About a month ago, Brian Keene, apparently replying to several Twitter followers who’d pointed it out, said something about yes, he knew that Amazon was offering the Kindle edition of Darkness on the Edge of Town for free and that he wasn’t promoting it because he hadn’t authorized the deal and wasn’t making any money from it. Fair enough.
I started following Keene on Twitter this past summer after CONvergence announced him as one of the 2011 Guests of Honor. For that matter, I followed all the GoHs who had Twitter accounts, to “get to know them” a bit before next summer’s CON. So in the spirit of that aim – and being the opportunistic poor person I am – I took advantage of the offer (yay for free Android apps!) to download my first-ever e-book and read Darkness.
Having just finished the book (what? I’m busy and a slow-ish reader), I have to say that if Amazon was hoping offering one of Keene’s books for free would inspire me to buy more, they chose the wrong book. (Minor spoilers ahead.)
I love Netflix‘s “Watch Instantly” feature. At the touch of a few buttons, any number of films and television shows can zoom across the Interwebs, straight to my television. So on a whim, I can take a chance on a completely new film I’d somehow missed.
I just finished watching TiMER, an indie rom-com from earlier this year that examines a question I’ve often entertained, as a 31-year-old single woman. What if you had a countdown telling you exactly when you’d meet your soulmate?
The ever-delightful-but-would-someone-please-feed-her-a-dozen-burgers-so-I-can-no-longer-count-her-ribs Emma Caulfield stars as Oona, an orthodontist approaching 30 whose TiMER is blank, meaning her One hasn’t had his TiMER implanted yet. So she takes boyfriend after boyfriend into an eHarmony-dialed-to-11 shop in the hopes that his brand-new TiMER will chime with hers, indicating that they’re meant to spend the rest of their lives together. Of course, boyfriend after boyfriend’s new TiMERs end up showing countdowns, meaning their One is still out there and leaving Oona with the question whether to keep enjoying what they have until he meets Her, or walk away from him. Invariably, she walks. (I’m amused that Emma is Buffy the Vampire Slayer alumna Anya, the demon you could call upon to punish the partner who just broke your heart.)
This came up at Valentine’s Day weekend, during my mini-break at a hotel near the Mall of America (my “here, have some couple time” V-Day gift to HF and HM). I was lazy and decided to have pizza delivered. Both the huge chains had stores nearby, so decisions, decisions. Their allergen charts eventually broke the stalemate. Continue reading
M… S… G. Ugh. Those three letters (together and in that order) strike fear in my stomach.
In fact, all the women in my family are allergic to MSG, AKA monosodium glutamate. No, wait. Sorry. According to the FDA, there’s no such thing as an allergy to this insidious ingredient, so I’m supposed to say I’m “intolerant”. Whatever. All I know is, my night is going to be very unpleasant if I consume it.
We MSG-intolerants don’t get the same amount of press as those who must avoid, say, peanuts or gluten¹; and to be fair, I don’t recall ever reading that our intolerance is potentially life-threatening (though I’ve had glutamated nights where I wished I’d just die already). Continue reading