Author: JennyTrout

The other day, I live-tweeted Mary Poppins While I prepare the next 50 Shades Freed recap, you should watch Mary Poppins with me.

[View the story “Jenny Watches Mary Poppins” on Storify]

You’ll have to click the link to actually see the tweets. Apparently, embedding content from other sites is one of those WordPress privileges you have to pay for, then jump through plug-in hoops to use.

I CANNOT BELIEVE IT’S ACTUALLY READY, GUYS.

But it’s here. The Boss is available in paperback. I got the first copy today. After agonizing over format (“Is this too hard to read? Is the print too big now? Why is there practically no spacing?! Why is there too much spacing? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME I AM A GOOD PERSON?!”), it’s ready to go!

The only thing I’m not happy with is the price I have to offer it for. I’d wanted to price it at fifteen bucks, but I would have had to spend money per copy sold to do that. So, it’s coming off the line as a $20.00 USD purchase. I felt all guilty about that for a second, and then I was like, “Uh… this is actually just sitting around for free on the internet, so…” So, if you’re unhappy with the price of it, keep in mind that I am, as well, and I’m going to see what I can do to change that when it’s time for The Girlfriend to hit shelves. But also that you can still read it for free if you don’t want to shell out.

In the meantime, here’s the buy link for the paperback:

The Boss

Abigail Barnette

$20.00

And then check out these amazing running shoes I received as a birthday present from a wonderful friend who wants to remain nameless to avoid the wrath of her husband, but who I think we pretty much all know who she is, right? Having only run barefoot – until that caught up with me in the form of an achilles tendon injury last year – I had never shopped for running shoes before. Cut to me running up and down an alley in 91 degree heat while a very earnest sales person watches me and considers whether the shoes are working for me or not. Pro-tip, the pair that fly off the moment you take a single step are just a tad too big.

Thanks, nameless cousin-friend! I can’t wait to go running! Oh shit, yes I can, because it’s like NINETY FUCKING DEGREES OUT.

I better just stay in and stroke the fuck out of this paperback I wrote, formatted, covered, and crafted without the help of a big six publisher SO NOW I FEEL LIKE A FUCKING GOD.

It’s become a bit of a tradition, since about the time that I could pick out my own birthday cake, that I celebrate another year without dying with a big, gooey slab of my grandma Z’s German chocolate cake. This year, however, that didn’t work out, because my poor grandma is super sick with shingles and some other nasty stuff. Poor grandma!

Left to my own devices, I considered how to make this birthday just as good without German chocolate cake and rockin’ amazing goulash. I meditated carefully over the dilemma before me. At first, I settled on making my own German chocolate cake, but then I realized that if I did that, maybe German chocolate cake would cease being special. I should leave that to the professionals. I thought about making a Texas sheet cake, but I do that for my husband’s birthday in August, as it is his favorite cake.

What would make a cake special for me? Perhaps one that reflects my interests? I’ve made my kids a Lego Jack Sparrow cake, a Dora cake, a Tangled cake… what could I do for me? What do I love just as much as my kids love all that crap?

OF COURSE! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Using one of the many Kit Kat cakes as a template for greatness. This is the end result:

But I noticed that the recipes for most of those Kit Kat cakes call for you to use a chocolate cake and chocolate frosting. And here’s the thing… I love chocolate. But that sounds a little bit over the top. Like, waaaaay too much chocolate. Also, when you cut into a pile of joy like the one pictured above, the inside should be as beautiful as the outside. Like this:

You wanna make a cake like this? It’s ridiculously easy. Here’s what I used:

I do make the occasional cake from scratch. Things like caramel cake or yellow cake or my sacred chunk of moist and yummy joy, red velvet cake. But this was my fucking birthday and I didn’t feel like making a huge production of it. So, I used:

• 1 box white cake mix and the oil, eggs and water to bring it into being.
• 2 cans Duncan Hines Frosting Creations starter
• 2 packets Duncan Hines Frosting Creations flavoring in White Chocolate Raspberry
• 1 big bag of M&Ms
• 9 Kit Kats (and the cashier is totally going to give you side eye when you’re grabbing them from beside the register)

You’re going to prepare 2 9″ round pans. If you use a larger or different sized pan, you’re going to need a different number of Kit Kats, and you’re on your own. Prepare your batter and color it like I did for my rainbow cupcakes, but this time, you’re going to put the batter into the two 9″ round pans. It should look something like this:

The best technique for this, I’ve found, is to spread a thin layer of the first color with a spatula across the bottom of the pan. Then pour on the next color and roll the pan around. If you use a spatula on the next layer, you’ll accidentally mix the colors and it will all be gray-brown and disappointing. It helps when you’re pouring it on to do it in a sort of wide circle. If that makes sense.

When your cake is baked and cool, whip up the frosting. My general rule for all canned frosting is that you should take it out of the can and put it in your mixing bowl and hit it with the electric mixer for a while, to fluff it up. Unfortunately, halfway through the making of this cake, my power went out. So I had to mix the frosting and the flavor packets by hand.

Quick review of Duncan Hines Frosting Creations: Just put a teaspoon of Jell-O powder into regular frosting, it’s the same damn thing.

Once the frosting was mixed up, I frosted the cake. By the by, if you do try out the Frosting Creations racket, the color of the white chocolate raspberry flavor is Grurple:

The lack of electric lighting is really doing the color a favor there.

When that’s all done, you just break apart all the Kit Kats and start pushing them into the frosting around the cake. I didn’t get a photo of this stage, because I was working quickly in an un-air conditioned house. If this happens to do you, do what I did and just stick the cake in the freezer for a few minutes so the Kit Kats don’t slide everywhere. Then pour in the M&M’s, stick on your candles, and serve it.

Getting the blog transferred and The Boss ready for publication has really taken a bite out of my regular blogging, but I’ll be back with another 50 Shades recap at the end of this week!

I am turning 29 + 4 today, and I thought, “Well, you know you’re switching your blog around… why not start off with a bang?” Or, many bangs, that is, because today The Boss goes live in its official ebook version, available at jennytrout.com!

Sophie Scaife almost ran away once, trading her ticket to college for a ticket to Tokyo. But a delayed flight and a hot one-night stand with a stranger changed her mind, putting her firmly on track to a coveted position at a New York fashion magazine.

When the irresistible stranger from that one incredible night turns out to be her new boss – billionaire and publishing magnate Neil Elwood – Sophie can’t resist the chance to rekindle the spark between them, and the opportunity to explore her submissive side with the most Dominant man she’s ever known.

Neil is the only man who has ever understood Sophie’s need to submit in the bedroom, and the only man who has ever satisfied those desires. When their scorching, no-strings-attached sexual relationship becomes something more, Sophie must choose between her career and heart, or risk losing them both.

Now, I know a lot of you were looking forward to ordering the print-on-demand paperback of The Boss today, but unfortunately, it’s slightly delayed. This is because I want to make sure that you get a good quality paperback, so I’m not going to release it until I’m absolutely satisfied that it’s right. I’m hoping that’ll be as soon as next week, but stay tuned.

But in the meantime, enjoy the final version of The Boss, and the one chapter preview of The Girlfriend stuck on the end of it!

Also, enjoy the fuck out of this new WordPress blog, which is a freaking dream to use and I should have just switched earlier this year. Now, I’m going to celebrate turning twenty-nine for the fourth time with this Doctor Who Waldorf baby doll my friend Bronwyn Green made me!

It’s freakin’ adorable!

In the links department, today we’ve got two from Thea K. The first is an entry from her own blog, The Editor’s Notes, highlighting 44 Reasons Twilight is Better Than 50 Shades.

“That’s understandable. Now that he’s awake, I want to get him moved to Seattle. Then we can go home, and my mom can keep an eye on him.”

“I’m not sure he’s well enough to be moved.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Sluder. Get her opinion.”

“You miss home?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

I’m sorry, did my phrasing mislead you guys? I should have been clearer. What I meant to say was, “To Ana’s credit, she doesn’t just roll over this time. It’s more like a barrel roll as she spirals toward the ground, possibly slamming through a barn or a windmill or a fireworks factory. Anything flammable, really.” Damn what Ray wants, Christian wants to go home! That means Ray is going to be moved, even if it’s medically unsafe.

Oh, you’re right, he’s going to talk to the doctor first. You know, the doctor he’s paying, the one who’s chummy with his mom. He’ll talk to Dr. Sluder and tell her what her opinion is, and then Charlie Ray will get moved.

Ana and Christian go back to the Heathman, where she immediately forgets about her father, who has just come out of a coma that she was super duper worried about:

“Shall we celebrate?” he asks as we enter the foyer.

“Celebrate?”

“Your dad.”

I giggle. “Oh, him.”

I just… what? Your father just woke up from a coma and you forgot on the drive back to the hotel? I… what? Or is it just that you don’t feel it’s something worth celebrating?

They do celebrate, in the creepiest way someone possibly can celebrate the emergence of their father from a medically induced coma. They have sex.

But first they have dinner, and I have to pointlessly snipe about this:

“That was delicious,” I murmur with satisfaction as I push my plate away, replete for the first time in ages. “They sure know how to make a fine tarte tatin here.”

I read that line and suddenly had an image of Laura Prepon’s character from How I Met Your Mother in my mind. Also, I have a theory that tarte tatin was invented on the spot by a cook who dropped an apple tart on the floor.

“That’s the most I’ve seen you eat the entire time we’ve been here,” he says.

Her father has been in the fucking hospital in a fucking coma, remember? I mean, I know she doesn’t remember, but you surely must? That shit affects your appetite.

“I was hungry.”

He leans back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk and takes a sip of his white wine.

Why is he self-satisfied? Was he in the coma? Did he put Charlie Ray in a coma to make Ana want to eat for the first time in three goddamn books? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s eating so we won’t have to continually hear about how alarmingly thin she is from not wanting to eat as some kind of last grasp at anorexia as an escape from your overwhelming need for control, but seriously, how are you taking credit for this shit?

Unless he’s read the last page of this chapter, and he knows what’s up.

The plot thickens.

So now it’s kind of a watery broth.

Christian asks Ana what she wants to do now that she’s stuffed herself with fancy dessert:

Reaching across the table, I grasp his hand, turn it over, and skim my index finger over his palm. “I’d like you to touch me with this.”

Keep that line in mind as we continue.

Christian pulls Ana into his lap and says:

“I like having unfettered access to you.”

Unfettered is a weird word choice, considering he ties her up all the time. He ties her up in this scene, too, which makes it even stranger.

“Don’t bite your lip,” he whispers, then rises suddenly with me in his arms. I gasp and grab his biceps, fearful that he’ll drop me.

That would be hilariously extreme BDSM right there. But why is he still telling her not to bite her lip? I’m starting to believe she has Lesch-Nyhan syndrome, and he’s seriously concerned about it.

Christian uses belts from the hotel bathrobes to tie Ana’s legs to the sofa, so she’s sitting up and spread-eagle.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now,” he murmurs and rubs his nose against mine.

I feel like I should write E.L. James a thank you note for improving my writing. I’m sure I’ve had a hero tell a heroine that she has no idea how hot she looks before, and after these books, I’ll never do it again. Because every time Chedward says that to Ana, I think, “How do you know what she knows, bitch?”

Christian changes the music:

Immediately, a sweet, almost childlike female voice starts to sing about watching me.

Oh, I like this song.

Just in case you missed the author’s habit of infantilizing Ana, now Ana is doing it herself during sex scenes. “Oooh, we’re going to listen to a child-like voice while fucking! That’s so hot, because I’m a fucking child myself!” But I looked up E.L.’s YouTube playlist, and this song… it doesn’t really match the description. If you want to listen to it, it’s here. And it’s pretty good. But the chick has a voice like Amy Winehouse at 7:30 in the morning. It’s not child-like at all. Which kind of makes the description of the song against the context of the scene more disturbing.

Remember when Ana asked Christian to touch her? Now that he’s got her legs all tied open, he wants her to touch herself. I’m torn on this scene. On the one hand, it’s not all that unusual for a Dom to tell a sub to do it her/himself, especially if the Dom is making the sub wait as part of the game. But this just seems like another instance in which Ana wants something, sexually, and Christian doesn’t deliver because his ideas are better.

On top of that, we have to remember that Ana has never masturbated before. When she first has sex with Christian, she’s never done anything sexual, ever, including getting herself off. She touches herself with his body wash in the shower once, but she doesn’t come. I can’t remember a single scene of her just getting off without his help or command in any part of these books so far. So it bugs me that when she finally does touch herself, she makes like, two circles around her clit with her fingers, then this happens:

Grabbing my hands, he bends down, running his nose and then his tongue back and forth at the apex of my thighs.

and when she tries to touch him, he says:

“I’ll restrain these, too. Keep still.”

And then he makes her come by fingering her and telling her “surrender,” which obviously she does, because with no orgasm training at all, she comes at his command. The “child-like” song, Ana’s reluctance to masturbate in front of him or at all, ever, and the fact that when she does finally touch herself down there, he restrains her hands and makes her come on command, makes this entire scene just… it’s fucking gross.

After Christian does her doggy-style over the couch, this conversation happens:

“I think we should go again. No clothes for you this time.”

“Christ, Ana. Give a man a chance.”

I giggle and he chuckles. “I’m glad Ray’s conscious. Seems all your appetites are back,” he says, not disguising the smile in his voice.

Swoon. Amirite or amirite, ladies?

Then they talk about stupid bullshit I don’t care about:

“And I think there’s a lot that’s sweet about you,” I murmur, referring to the song still playing on repeat. His smile fades.

Oh no.

“You are,” I whisper.

“I am going to fuck you with my mouth.”

And then after the section break, she’s all:

“Good morning,” I murmur shyly from the doorway.

How do we get from “I am going to fuck you with my mouth” to “shyly?” Timidity born of shame over one’s sexuality is NOT ATTRACTIVE. I don’t care how many copies of these books sold to women who believe that. They are fucking WRONG. It’s not cute and adorable. It’s gross.

Christian tells Ana that a detective wants to come to talk to her about Jack Hyde. Then there’s a section break, and Ana is visiting Ray in the hospital:

“Dad, you’ve been in a major car accident. It will take time to heal. Christian and I want to move you to Seattle.”

No, Christian wanted to move him to Seattle, Ana. You didn’t.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering with me. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

So, Charlie Ray doesn’t want to move to a different hospital. Glad that’s settled.

Charlie wants coffee and donuts, so after a break, Ana tells Christian they need to go get coffee and donuts.

This chapter is gripping, y’all.

Christian tells Ana that detective Clark will be in Portland at four to talk to her, and to take Taylor on the donut run. Ana rolls her eyes, so you know what that means:

“There’s no one here.” His voice is deliciously low, and I know he’s threatening to spank me.

In the ICU waiting room. Which is, of course, the perfect venue for D/s spanking games. Way to know when shit is appropriate, you two.

The spanking doesn’t go down, though, because:

I am about to dare him, when a young couple enters the room. She is weeping softly.

She, singular, is a couple, two people, and both of them are weeping from their giant, fused eye.

“Anything you wish to say to my wife, you can say in front of me.” Christian’s voice is cool and businesslike. Detective Clark turns to me.

“Are you sure you’d like your husband to be present?”

I frown at him. “Of course. I have nothing to hide. You are just interviewing me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’d like my husband to stay.”

Christian sits beside me, radiating tension.

All that’s missing is the detective asking if anyone “helped” her walk into the door.

Detective Clark tells Ana that Hyde is alleging she made “lewd advances” toward him while she worked for him at SIP.

Oh! I almost burst out laughing, but put my hand on Christian’s thigh to restrain him as he shifts forward in his seat.

I really, really want Christian Grey to punch a cop.

Well, not really. Because he would just buy the police force and fire the cop for letting his face get in the way of Christian’s golden fists. I should rephrase: I want Christian Grey to punch a cop in the real world. And then I want real world consequences to ensue.

Shit, he could just buy his way out of that, too.

Jack told the police that Ana sexually harassed him and was after his job. And Christian responds to this news in the guiltiest-sounding way possible:

“Detective, please don’t tell me you have driven all this way to harass my wife with these ridiculous accusations.”

That sounds like something the murderer would say on Midsommer Murders.

Detective Clark tells them that they’ve spoken to some of Jack Hyde’s past personal assistants, but they only had good things to say about him.

“We’ve had that problem, too,” Christian murmurs.

Oh? I gape at Christian, as does Detective Clark.

“My security chief. He’s interviewed Hyde’s past five PAs.”

“And why’s that?”

Christian gives him a steely glare. “Because my wife worked for him, and I run security checks on anyone my wife works with.”

She wasn’t your wife at the time, Captain Fucko. You ran security checks on your girlfriend’s new boss and then bought the company because you couldn’t stand the thought of not being in completely control of yet another aspect of her life. But I’m sure the police are totally cool with you having an investigation of your own going on. Especially when you’re acting all suspicious and weird toward the cops when they’re just doing their job.

Christian wants to know why Jack hasn’t been charged with attempted murder in the helicopter sabotage. Ana thinks:

What?

But I thought she already knew that Jack was suspected in the Charlie Tango crash. I’m pretty sure they talked about it before.

“We’re hoping to find more evidence in regard to the sabotage of your aircraft, Mr. Grey. We need more than a partial print, and while he’s in custody, we can build a case.”

“Is this all you came down here for?”

 Clark bristles. “Yes, Mr. Grey, it is, unless you’ve had any further thoughts about the note?”

Note? What note?

“No. I told you. It means nothing to me.” Christian cannot hide his irritation. “And I don’t see why we couldn’t have done this over the phone.”

You know, so Ana wouldn’t overhear any other details she didn’t know about the case against the guy who broke into her home to try and kidnap and rape her. If I were detective Clark, I would be suspecting that Christian hired Jack to murder Ana. He’s acting like a total lunatic and hiding a lot of shit from her.

After Clark leaves, Christian suggests they go see her father and arrange the move to Seattle for the next day. Yup. Two days out of a coma after internal bleeding, brain swelling, and cardiac arrest, still in the ICU, let’s move this patient for convenience.

“He was adamant that he wanted to stay in Portland and not be a bother.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Section break.

The follow day Ray is examining his new surroundings- an airy, light room in the rehabilitation center of Northwest Hospital in Seattle. It’s noon, and he looks sleepy. The journey, via helicopter no less, has exhausted him.

NO SHIT. YOU THINK MOVING A GUY WHO HAS JUST HAD MASSIVE INJURIES FOR WHICH HE HAD TO BE PUT INTO A MEDICATED COMA MIGHT BE WORN OUT BY AN UNNECESSARY TRANSFER VIA AIRLIFT? WHO COULD HAVE POSSIBLY GUESSED THIS?

But it all works out, because Charlie Ray has seen the way, the truth, and the light of the Gospel of 50 Shades, which is that Christian Grey is always right about everything, all the time:

“Tell Christian I appreciate this,” he says quietly.

“Hey, Christian, I really appreciate you forcing me to switch hospitals against my wishes after my nearly fatal traumatic injuries.”

Ana tells her dad she’s going back to work, and she leaves him some newspapers to read. So, “Hey, dad, we’re moving you to a totally different city so we can be close to you. Now that you’re here, I’m leaving! See ya!”

As she leaves the hospital, she runs into Dr. Greene, her gynecologist.

“Mrs. Grey, how are you? Did you get my message? I called earlier.”

“No.” My scalp prickles.

“Well, I was wondering why you’d canceled four appointments.”

Four appointments? I gape at her. I’ve missed four appointments! How?

Because you keep canceling all of your appointments. Forget visiting the doctor, how are you even doing your job?

Dr. Greene is going to give Ana her birth control shot, but first Ana has to take a pregnancy test.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

In case you didn’t get it the first four times, shit.

How could I have let this happen… again?

WHOA. HOLD THE FUCK UP.

What does she mean, AGAIN? Did they get pregnant before and we just skipped over it? What the hell does this mean?

And then Ana finds out she’s pregnant, and the chapter is over.

Roadhouse is back! And we’ve got a show for you: dumb stuff from movies and tv shows that we believed as children… and also how I believed that Bob Hoskins was American until about three years ago…

Last night, I was birthday party ambushed.

In hindsight, I should have put two and two together and realized that I was going to be birthday party ambushed. My friend Cristin had called me up to see if she and our friends Adele and Jill could come out to my house and visit, and the visit was planned the night before Cristin’s birthday on July 6th. In the past, because so many of my friends have July birthdays, I’ve held a group birthday party, but my health lately has been not so great, so I haven’t done that in a few years. I’m off my birthday game considerably. So I didn’t even make the connection that this might be a birthday thing, even though my birthday is on July 15th, and Cristin asked me what kind of cake I liked.

Obviously, I should not have been surprised when it turned into a birthday party ambush.

They came bearing a beautiful cake, and gifts.

Adele brought me this t-shirt:

Which matched the beautiful flower lei that Cristin brought me. Being a Fannibal, I knew just what to do with it:

See, isn’t that much more festive?

Said Cristin of buying me a plastic pineapple and a barrel of dollar store monkeys for my birthday: “Usually, if I bought that for someone, they would just look at it and go, ‘that’s funny,’ but I know Jen is actually going to use the items.”

Jill is also giving me a present, a human finger bone she nicked from a biology skeleton. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to own that, by law. But it was from a skeleton, so… you know, it’s for science. It’ll go well with my collection of non-human bones, and it’ll creep the hell out of visitors I show it to.

Then, because we’re nerds, we cracked out my copies of Weird Michigan, Weird Pennsylvania, Weird U.S.A., and The Dictionary of Hauntings, sat around the dining room table, and red quietly to ourselves.

Because we’re party animals.

But it was a really amazing night. I’d spent the whole day in a really bad Fibromyalgia flare-up (you can probably tell from the picture that I was definitely not feeling my best), but my friends came over and gave me the best birthday I could have hoped for, that was exactly my speed. My friends are awesome.

In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will ignore the “Do Not Consume Raw” warning on the side of the pre-made cookie dough. She will also recap every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with an eye to the following themes:

1. Sex is the real villain of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe.
2. Giles is totally in love with Buffy.
3. Joyce is a fucking terrible parent.
4. Willow’s magic is utterly useless (this one won’t be an issue until season 2, when she gets a chance to become a witch)
5. Xander is a textbook Nice Guy.
6. The show isn’t as feminist as people claim.
7. All the monsters look like wieners.
8. If ambivalence to possible danger were an Olympic sport, Team Sunnydale would take the gold.
9. Angel is a dick.
10. Harmony is the strongest female character on the show.
11. Team sports are portrayed in an extremely negative light.
12. Some of this shit is racist as fuck.
13. Science and technology are not to be trusted.

WARNING: Some people have mentioned they’re watching along with me, and that’s awesome, but I’ve seen the entire series already and I’ll probably mention things that happen in later seasons. So… you know, take that under consideration, if you’re a person who can’t enjoy something if you know future details about it.

Ah, season two. Season two starts out with a “Last season, on Buffy the Vampire Slayer” intro that sums up everything a viewer needs to know to jump on board, and then…

Hold up, does that say “Cray?” It might say “Gray,” but I think it could also say “Cray.” Which is what will no doubt be on my tombstone. That, or my last words, “I can probably climb that.”

Willow and Xander are strolling past one of Sunnydale’s dozen cemeteries. Even though it’s night, and even though they are fully aware of the existence of vampires, witches, and demons who hang out in these places. #8, right off the bat. They’re rattling off movie quotes to each other and guessing which movies the quotes are from, a game they abandon when Willow says it’s dumb:

Xander: “What else do you wanna do? We already played Rock/Paper/Scissors, my hands cramped up.”

Willow: “Well yes, if you’re always scissors, of course your tendons are going to stretch.”

Xander declares the summer the most boring summer ever. There has apparently been a lack of monsters around, as well as a lack of Buffy. Awfully convenient, I think, that nothing supernatural happens on the Hellmouth while the Slayer isn’t there to stop it. Willow accuses Xander of looking forward to the end of summer break because Buffy will be coming back, and Xander insists he’s completely over Buffy. And then he asks when she’s going to be coming back. Because he’s so over her. He boops Willow’s nose with his ice cream cone to act out a scene from Witness, and then they almost kiss, until this dumb vampire totally c-blocks Willow:

Willow: “Giles buried the bones, and we poured holy water and we got to wear robes.”

Xander: “Very intense. You should have been.” 

Willow: “Have you seen Giles?”

Buffy: “Why would I do that? I’ll see him at school.”

Remember, in the last episode of the first season, Buffy is willing to go to the Master and die to stop Giles from… going to the Master and dying, there’s no real good way to keep that sentence from word repping. So, right away, the viewer who watched the first season will know that something isn’t right with Buffy. She’s not this callous toward her friends.

Meanwhile, in Buffy’s room, Joyce and Manly are unpacking Buffy’s suitcases. When I was a kid and I went somewhere, my mom never did that for me. This is some BULLSHIT, mom. Joyce makes a lighthearted but slightly admonishing comment on the number of clothes Almanzo bought Buffy over the summer, and he says he was trying to help with back-to-school shopping. They discuss Buffy’s behavior over the break, and her father says that he noticed she was distant. This is a really awesome scene, because it’s showing two divorced people parenting their child together without animosity. That’s far more realistic, I think, than some of the depictions of divorced parents we’ve seen in media; Buffy’s father admits to “overcompensating” by buying Buffy a lot of stuff, and he doesn’t bristle when Joyce accuses him of doing it. These are people who are actually committed to raising their child together, and who are despairing at being unable to do so effectively.

On the first day of school for Sunnydale High, Cordelia is telling her friends about her many troubles and hardships over the summer:

Cordelia: “It was a nightmare, a total nightmare. I mean, they promised me they’d take me to St. Croix, and then they just decide to go to Tuscany. Art and buildings? I was totally beachless for a month and a half. No one has suffered like I have suffered.”

I’m pretty sure those are lyrics from Kanye’s new album.

Snyder and Giles are strolling through campus while Snyder waxes poetic about how awesome the school is when the kids aren’t there. He also compares the students to locusts, so we’re right on track for the first day. Snyder makes a comment about boys turning into idiots when a pretty girl walks by, and then Giles sees Jenny Calendar and turns into an idiot who can’t get a sentence out. They leave Snyder talking to himself, and Giles asks Jenny how her summer was:

Jenny: “I did Burning Man in Black Rock. Oh, such a great festival. You should have been there. They had drum rituals, mobile sculptures, raves, naked mud dances, you would have just… hated it with a fiery passion.”

Giles: “I can’t imagine finding any redeeming, uh, naked?”

Oooh, librarian gonna get some. Until the kids appear at the top of the stairs and are all super excited to see him. Well, all except Buffy, who hangs back. She gives a pithy answer to Giles’s “how are you?” and then Willow loudly announces that Buffy killed a vampire the night before. Jenny is confused, because she thought the Hellmouth was closed:

Giles: “Well, it’s closed, but not gone. The mystical energy that emanates from it is still concentrated in this area.”

Okay. So… where were they all summer, Mr. Smarty Exposition Pants?

Giles says he needs to consult his books to figure out if there is any reason the vampires are back in Sunnydale, and Xander wins a bet he and Willow had over how long it would take Giles to consult his books. It’s under ten minutes. Giles suggests Buffy could wait a few days to get back into training, but she insists she’s ready. So ready, in fact, that we cut to this:

Buffy: “Is that it? Is that everything? You know, ’cause you woke me up from a really good dream.”

I know, right? I wish I would have dreams about Giles choking me. Or The Master. He’s got that creepy, evil vampire hotness about him, even if he does look kind of like a wiener.

Or maybe because he looks kind of like a wiener. *Scribbles note for therapist*

Angel tells Buffy he missed her, and when Buffy decides to return the sentiment, an Allison Krause song starts playing, and Angel is gone. He must really, really not like country.

In the car, Joyce asks Buffy how her classes are going, and then asks Buffy to tell her what’s wrong. People all around Buffy are noticing that something is wrong with her, but they can’t do anything about it.

As Xander invites Buffy and Willow to a Cibo Matto concert at the Bronze (OMG CIBO MATTO!), Cordelia comes up and says:

Cordelia: “Oh look, it’s the Three Musketeers.”

Buffy: “Was that an insult?”

Xander: “Kind of a light punch.”

Willow: “The Three Musketeers were cool.”

Cordelia: “I see your point.” 

Xander: “I would have gone with Stooges.”

But Cordelia wasn’t trying to insult them, just making an observation. She’s genuinely excited to hear about their demon fighting adventures, and she’s not quite understanding that there is a secrecy component to the whole Slayer thing. Luckily, Cordelia hasn’t been talking about demons and vampires to everyone, because she doesn’t want anyone to know that she was hanging out with them in the first place. She tells Buffy that she’ll keep her secret, and Buffy snipes at her. Even Cordelia can see that something bad is going on with Buffy.

At the Bronze, ungrateful bastard children Willow and Xander are not fully appreciating the awesomeness of Cibo Matto and how fucking rad it was to be a teenager in the 90’s. They’re discussing how weird Buffy has been lately, and then Willow tries to force another near-kiss moment.

1. Vampires are bad at prepping for yard work, and
2. a council-trained Watcher’s best plan can be defeated with shovels.

Buffy: “Xander… did I ever thank you for saving my life?”

Xander: “No.”

Buffy: “Don’t you wish I would?” 

And then she’s just gone.

This scene sticks out to me (like Xander’s erection, ZING!) on two levels. One, I’m glad that Buffy doesn’t overtly promise sex to Xander as a reward for saving her life. In fact, she’s kind of addressing the whole Nice Guy issue we had in the first season by pointing out, “I know you think I should fuck you because you saved my life.” But I dislike seeing Buffy trying to make Angel jealous by making Xander an object, I hate the cocktease element, and I hate that her betrayal of Willow is just kind of a side note to the scene. It’s clear that we’re supposed to think of her effect on the two male characters before we even consider what she’s done to Willow, when really, all Buffy has done to Angel and Xander is make it clear that she’s not a bone to fight over. #6.

Buffy leaves the Bronze and a wake of hurt friends behind her, and Cordelia follows her into the alley.

Cordelia: “You’re really campaigning for bitch of the year, aren’t you?”

Buffy: “As defending champion, you nervous?

Cordelia: “I can hold my own. You know, we’ve never really been close, which is nice ’cause I don’t really like you that much, but… you have, on occasion, saved the world and stuff, so I’m gonna do you a favor.”

Buffy: “And this great favor is?”

Cordelia: “I’m gonna give you some advice. Get over it.”

Buffy: “Excuse me?”

Cordelia: “Whatever is causing the Joan Collins ‘tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever. But get over it. ‘Cause pretty soon you’re not gonna even have the loser friends you’ve got now.”

Charisma Carpenter had some kind of awful cold when they filmed this episode. My nose is stuffy just from listening to her.

But back on topic, Cordelia is telling Buffy that she’s too mean to her friends. Buffy tells Cordy to mind her own business and walks off in a huff, and Cordelia tries one last ditch attempt to make Buffy get mad and confront her demons by saying she’s going to ask Angel to dance, but Buffy doesn’t give her a backward glance. Which is super inconvenient for Cordy, as she is immediately carried off by vampires as if to punctuate her sentence.

After a fade out and back in from commercial, we rejoin Cordelia in some kind of abandoned industrial room, where she finds Jenny Calendar unconscious on the floor.

As Buffy walks through the cemetery, she finds The Master’s bones have been dug up. Look how fucking shallow that hole is:

Willow: “I mean, why else would she be acting like such a B-I-T-C-H?”

Giles: “Willow, I think we’re a little too old to be spelling things out.”

Xander: “A bitka?”

Giles tries to explain to Willow and Xander that Buffy is probably just not coping with the whole “Hey, you were dead for a few minutes” thing, and that she’s not handling it well. But as he’s explaining it, Buffy walks up behind him, and he’s totally clueless as Willow and Xander try to warn him. Buffy, pissed at being talked about behind her back, casually tells them that The Master’s bones are gone, which is basically the biggest conversational mic drop that has ever happened in Sunnydale. She lays into Giles about what a shitty job he did burying The Master and tells him to crack open his wallet and rent a fucking backhoe next time. No, not really. But she does lay into him about not warning her that The Master could possibly be raised from the dead. When Willow tries to smooth things over, Buffy snaps at her that this is private Slayer business, sub-heading: none of yours, and Xander says he’s had enough. So has Snyder, who drops by the table to tell the kids to get to class. He makes a comment about Buffy being a troublemaker, re-establishing that Snyder is taking a personal interest in the Scoobies. In a bad way.

In the library, Giles tells the kids that whoever wants to raise The Master has to also have the blood of a person who was close to The Master, and Buffy is pretty sure that means her, since they killed each other. A rock flies through the library window, with Cordelia’s bracelet and a note wrapped around it. The note says that Buffy has to come to the Bronze, or Cordelia will get eaten. Buffy decides she’s going to go to the Bronze, and it’s like someone rang a bell to signal the beginning of the next round:

Buffy: “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t look after the three of you guys while I’m fighting.”

Willow: “Well, what about the rest of the note?”

Buffy: “The rest of the note?”

Willow: “The part that says ‘P.S. This is a trap!'”

Giles: “You’ll be playing straight into their hands.”

Buffy: “I can handle this.”

Willow: “Stop saying that! God, what’s wrong with you?”

Buffy storms out of the library to go fight and save the day all on her own.

On her way to the Bronze, Angel walks up behind her, and Buffy delivers this zinger:

Xander: “Vampires. The ones you could handle yourself.”

Buffy: “Where are the others?”

Xander: “I don’t know. I don’t know what your problem is, what your issues are. But as of now, I officially don’t care. If you’d worked with us for five seconds, you could have stopped this.”

Oh snap. Xander also threatens to kill Buffy if the vampires hurt Willow, a line I’ve never been comfortable with. You’ll kill her? Really? The girl you were supposedly in love with? You’re going to literally kill her if she doesn’t deliver and save the girl you keep throwing under the wheels of the heartbreak truck? Because you don’t like the way she handled a situation you have absolutely no experience with or right to criticize? Also, um, SLAYER MUCH? There goes Xander again, thinking he’s so strong and brave and shit when Buffy has proven time and again that she would be able to rip him in half like Marshall ripped the phone book in half after he drank all that Tantrum.

That is a bad line, and Joss Whedon should feel bad about it.

I have to note here that most of the episodes I find really, intensely problematic wind up being the ones written by Joss himself. And that makes me feel awful for everyone else who wrote on the show. Except Marti Noxon, because Spuffy was a fucking train derailment. But for the most part, the episodes that refreshingly turn tropes on their heads aren’t written by the Sci-Fi/Fantasy Feminism Messiah. Yet he gets all the credit, while writing episodes that go like this. That makes me surious, which is sad and furious at the same time.

Back at the Bronze, Buffy tortures the lady vamp. Lezzbehonest here. Violence as sex has already been set up in the scene with Angel, and now Buffy is beating on this vamp who purrs and moans through the whole thing like goddamned Julie Newmar. This is more violence-against-women = sex here. Did I mention that Joss Whedon also directed this episode? Just in case it wasn’t clear. #6

Here’s the thing: A lot of people made that connection when the vampire genre exploded back in the day. I know I had a lot of sexually-charged violence toward women in my first series of vampire books (mea culpa). Somehow, it became a convention of the genre: Buffy, Anita Blake, Sookie Stackhouse, it seemed like every heroine who was written to appeal to a female audience was in constant danger of violence, sex, and violent sex from these alpha male vamps who made readers swoon. I wish that back then, I would have thought a little more deeply about why this appealed to readers, and what kind of a world we’re living in that it ever would. It’s almost like some weird, back door (lol) way of getting BDSM into the stories without admitting that was what was going on. Which meant that we were all fully comfortable with violence against women, so long as she wasn’t meant to get off on it.

But I digress.

Back at The Anointed One’s world headquarters, Jenny, Cordelia, Giles, and Willow are all hanging out with The Master.

Buffy, Angel, and Xander creep in. Buffy tells Angel and Xander to rescue the others while she murders the vampire cult. Like you do. Angel and Xander accomplish this by reeling them in on their chains at the most painfully slow pace possible, but the vampires are all so busy getting their asses kicked that none of them can interfere too much. Well, except for one, so Angel can put on his vamp face and kick some ass.

At the end of the fight, when all the vamps are dead, Buffy has an emotional breakdown moment. She tearfully smashes The Master’s bones with a hammer, while her friends watch, stunned. Then Angel comes over to put his hand on her shoulder and give her emotional support.

Giles: “Buffy, you acted wrongly, I admit that, but believe me, that was hardly the worst mistake you’ll ever make. That wasn’t quite as comforting as it was meant to be.” 

Buffy goes to class, where Xander and Willow pretend nothing ever happened, and they make plans to go to the Bronze.

Xander: “Well, we could grind our enemies into talcum powder with a sledge hammer, but gosh, we did that last night.”

The intro music to a commercial for your local credit union starts, and the scene ends with an unnecessarily long shot of the three making conversation and healing their relationship, before cutting to The Anointed One, who has apparently just come back from the bathroom to find everyone dead.

Overall, this is a pretty good episode, in that it tries to show us the mental toll of Buffy’s sacred duties. It’s a really bad episode, however, in that it uses only the tired, anti-feminist cliches of the bitch, the tease, the sexually aggressive bad girl and the helpless, not-as-strong-as-I-thought-I-was emotional wreck to display it.

Another issue I have with this episode is the title. When She Was Bad. Not When She Was Different, or When She Wasn’t Really Herself. Are her actions in the episode really bad? She tells Angel to stop stalking her and becomes annoyed when he enters her room uninvited in the middle of the night to watch her sleep. She dances with Xander and doesn’t have sex with him even though she knows he wants to have sex with her. Yes, these actions are all committed while actively trying to push her friends away and be mean to them, but are they bad? Buffy is definitely not being a nice person in this storyline, but there’s a pretty wide range of adjectives between “nice” and “bad.” The title tries to subtly steer us toward our idea of Buffy in this episode as a “bad girl,” a trope that was overdone long before 1997.

I’ve always found this episode a bit of a missed opportunity. Imagine if Buffy really was possessed, and her friends had to save her from it. That would prove to the audience that no Slayer is an island, especially if the possession is revealed gradually, the way her emotional stress was revealed in this script. Or, if there wasn’t any possession at all, and Buffy acted just fine, but her friends noticed something was up and stepped in to help her without all the bad-girl acting-out bullshit.

Just sayin’.

Man, vacation was awesome! I can’t wait to share it all with you.

Just, you know. One thing… I lost my camera. Which means that all the gorgeous photos of Lake Superior and the Keweenaw Peninsula are with someone else now. Heads up, if you were in Gay/Laurium/Calumet on Saturday and you found a blue Canon with fat lady nudes on it, that’s mine. I’d like it back.

Since I don’t have pictures, I’ll just have to recreate them. I’m a pretty good artist, so you probably won’t be able to tell the difference.

Day 1:

On the first day of our trip, our merry band of adventurers had to travel from Grand Rapids, MI, to Gay, MI. That’s a really long drive. Eleven hours in two cars, with six writers making the journey. It was me, Bronwyn Green, Mia Watts, Kelsey St. James, Kris Norris, and Emily Love. The gruelling drive was marked by many potty breaks, but the most exciting part was the halfway point, the crossing of Michigan’s majestic Mackinac (pronounced Mack-i-naw) Bridge. Look at this beautiful lady of the crossing, rising from her pylons in the great white shark infested waters where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron meet:

Day 3:

We basically just spent day three writing our butts off in our lovely cabin.

“For what it’s worth, if you had proposed tonight, I would have said no.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you have?”

I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin, careful not to smudge my lipstick. I couldn’t lie to him. “No.”

Day 6:

On our sixth day of vacation, we struck out for the very tippiest top of Michigan, Copper Harbor. It’s tiny, it’s foggy, and there are lots of rocks, and also Lake Superior. There were also Orthodox Christian monks living up there who make baked goods:

Day 7:

This was the last day we could possibly get any work done, and get work done, I did. Do you want to see more of it? Okay!

“Maybe I did, in the past, but… I don’t know. I’ve always felt like you were… not resentful of me, but perhaps slightly inconvenienced by my existence. I got the feeling that you didn’t like me around.” She paused. “I feel like I made you uncomfortable somehow.”

“You made me uncomfortable?” That absolutely flabbergasted me. “No, Emma. I felt like I was making you uncomfortable. Because your dad was dating me, and we’re the same age, and the way we first met- “

“In hindsight, that’s quite funny.” She shook her head. “Or at least, Michael tells me it is.”

And then on Day 8, we all left. Except for my camera, who I hope is having a really nice time, wherever it is.

Here are some links! They were sent to me by people! I didn’t keep track of who! I’m a maverick!

• 50 Shades of Bonus Bullshit – Bonus Stalker Boyfriend Meme Contest
• Essay on misogyny in fandom Which I will post with absolutely no hint of hubris, even though I spend most of my blog time hating on one particular female character. I have like seven chapters to go, guys.
• Another breakdown of 50 Shades of Grey that goes into some different stuff! This one, I actually remember who sent it to me. It was Thea Karan, and I remembered because I still had the email. So ha, I can do something right! Also, that link takes you to chapter eight, but I suspect you’ll want to read all the chapters.
• An article on romanticizing psychos in fiction, also from Thea Karan. The Fannibal in me whistles and wanders away, looking nonchalant with my arm around a feathered stag.

“Shit! Daddy!” I gasp out loud, recalling with a gut-wrenching surge of apprehension that twists my heart and starts it pounding why I’m in Portland.

Man. I write some unwieldy sentences, but daaaaamn.

Christian wasn’t wrapped around Ana like vines or ivy or a steel wool hair shirt, so where could he possibly be? If you guessed “creepily watching her sleep,” you’d be tragically right:

“Hey.” Christian is sitting on the edge of the bed. He strokes my cheek with his knuckles, instantly calming me. “I called the ICU this morning. Ray had a good night. It’s all good,” he says reassuringly.

Hey, you know what I just had the weirdest thought about? HIPAA and patient confidentiality. While I understand that Ana is Ray’s next of kin, and Ana would be totally okay with Christian having access to his medical information, and Christian’s mom is apparently Ray’s doctor now or something, you know who hasn’t had a say in this? RAY. And it’s up to him who has access.

Just saying.

Then something happens that we haven’t seen for a few chapters, but we really weren’t missing. That’s right, the “we have to say hi to each other shyly in the morning” scene:

“Hi,” I mutter. He’s up and dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

“Hi,” he replies, his eyes soft and warm. “I want to wish you happy birthday. Is that okay?”

Oh, this he asks. “Can I have access to your bank account and college transcripts?” Not on the table. “May I make a secret list of people you aren’t allowed to speak to?” Apparently, that’s just a given. But he asks if he can wish her a happy birthday. Because manners.

From any other husband, I probably wouldn’t bat an eye, but from Christian Grey, I think, “Jesus Christ, it’s not all about you.”

See, Karen knows what’s up with Ana’s birthday.

Christian is celebrating Ana’s birthday as a kind of rebirth. She’s transitioning from Ana Steele to Christian Grey’s wife, and the gift reflects this:

Unwrapping the paper carefully so it doesn’t tear, I find a beautiful red leather box. Cartier. It’s familiar, thanks to my second-chance earrings and my watch. Cautiously, I open the box to discover a delicate charm bracelet of silver or platinum or white gold- I don’t know, but it’s absolutely enchanting. Attached to it are several charms: the Eiffel Tower; a London black cab; a helicopter- Charlie Tango; a glider- the soaring, a catamaran- The Grace; a bed; an ice cream cone? I look up at him, bemused. 

I just want to point out that she got “second chance earrings” before she got a birthday present.

Every charm on the bracelet is something that ties her to him. There isn’t a single charm that’s just like, “Hey, I remembered you like cats, so that’s what the kitty is for,” or some shit. This isn’t just Christian trying to mind-wipe Ana’s past and make her life all about him; it’s a really shocking reminder that without Christian Grey, Ana Steele is a character who has no discernable personality.

I’m sorry, Jack, I just don’t believe in love anymore. Not after these books.

The ice cream, by the way, is a reference to “vanilla.”

“Christian this is beautiful. Thank you. It’s yar.”

Your guess is as good as mine.

One of the charms is a locket so she can put Christian’s picture in it, a C (for Christian, obviously) and another is a key to Christian’s heart and soul, so that explains the key necklaces I’ve been seeing everywhere, I guess.

Oh, he smells so good- clean, of fresh linen, body wash, and Christian.

 Jesus Christ, E.L., WE KNOW WHAT HE SMELLS LIKE. BY THIS POINT AND THE NUMBER OF TIMES YOU HAVE USED THAT EXACT DESCRIPTION, WE FUCKING KNOW THAT THIS BASTARD SMELLS LIKE BODY WASH.

Oh, by the way, Ana cries in this chapter more than the vampires cried in my entire first series. And that was a lot, because I was apparently going through some things. Ana starts crying on page 374, then there’s a section break and they have breakfast:

“Thank you for ordering my favorite breakfast.”

“It’s your birthday,” Christian says softly. “And you have to stop thanking me.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation, but fondly, I think.

“I just want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“Anastasia, it’s what I do.” His expression is serious- of course, Christian in command and in control. How could I forget… Would I want him any other way?

Probably not, but you wouldn’t have Stockholm Syndrome, either.

Ana says she’s going to go brush her teeth, and Christian smirks, and Ana can’t figure out why, until:

A memory springs unbidden to my mind. I used his toothbrush after I first spent the night with him. I smirk and grab his toothbrush in homage to that first time.

I KNOW, SO GROSS, RIGHT?!

The last time I was here I was single, and now I’m married at twenty-two! I’m getting old.

They leave for the hospital, but first, they have to take the “fuck the paperwork” elevator. You know, where he kissed her or whatever back in the first book that I don’t care about:

“Someday, I’ll rent this elevator for a whole afternoon.”

And then they’ll sanitize it for the entire evening, night, and morning.

Then they start making out in the elevator, blah blah. They go outside to where Taylor pulls up in a new car:

He’s bought me a fucking Audi R8! Holy shit! Just like I asked!

Just like she asked! In the last book! When he didn’t buy it for her because reasons! Reasons that had nothing to do with being a control freak!

Ana interprets the gift of the car as this tender, caring thing, but it’s really just a reward for being docile and doing what he wanted her to do. Let’s be real here. She’s submitted in enough other ways that he decided he would give her a treat.

“Anything for you, Mrs. Grey.” He grins down at me. Oh my. What a very public display of affection. He bends and kisses me. “Come. Let’s go see your dad.”

“Yes. And I get to drive?”

He grins down at me. “Of course. It’s yours.”

Um, so was the other car you bought her, and then refused to let her drive, because you’re a freak.

But of course, when Ana does drive, it’s way too fast for Christian, and he repeatedly warns her to slow down:

“I don’t want you in the ICU beside your father. Slow down,” he growls, not to be argued with. I ease off the accelerator and grin at him.

I can understand someone saying, “Hey, don’t drive like a jackass when I’m in the car with you, because I don’t want to die,” but let’s remember, Christian is okay with taking some pretty big risks when Ana is along for the ride. Gliders aren’t exactly the safest pastime. He zipped her around on a jet ski and dumped her off into the Mediterranean. He’s okay with being the guy in the driver’s seat doing something dangerous, but Ana can’t drive slightly over the speed limit for her own good.

At the hospital, we check in with Ray, who is more interesting than his daughter even when he’s in a coma:

Ray’s condition is the same. Seeing him grounds me after the heady road trip here. I really should drive more carefully. You can’t legislate for every drunk driver in this world.

But notice how Christian tells her she should drive more carefully, and suddenly she thinks it’s all her idea? She already knew her dad was in the hospital from a car accident, but it didn’t occur to her when she was driving before. Once Christian plants the seed in her head, though, it’s suddenly there and her own idea.

So, achievement unlocked, Grey. You’ve got your wife completely brainwashed.

I wander into the thankfully empty waiting room where Christian is talking on the phone, pacing. As he speaks, he gazes out the window at the panoramic view of Portland. He turns to me when I shut the door, and he looks angry.

“How far above the limit?… I see… All charges, everything. Ana’s father is in the ICU- I want you to throw the fucking book at him, Dad… Good. Keep me informed.” He hangs up.

Okay. Uh… Christian? You don’t decide how drunk drivers are charged. If you’re in a state that uses a grand jury in DUI cases, they’ll throw the book at the drunk driver, or if you’re in a state that doesn’t use the grand jury, the judge will throw the book at them.  While I’m sure Christian has power and influence due to his wealth, let’s not pretend he runs the court system or can somehow order this guy to get a harsher punishment because he just wants it to be so. This dude can only be charged within the laws that already exist to handle DUI.

Ana updates him on Charlie (Ray, actually, but I’m leaving Charlie because I legit typed that name first because in my head, this book is Twilight), and Christian says:

“This is not how I envisaged spending today,” Christian murmurs into my hair.

Who says that? “Envisaged?” Really? Not, “This isn’t how I envisioned?” Because that’s how most Americans would say it. I’m sure the phrase started out “envisaged” because that’s correct, but Americans, even self-made billionaire Americans, don’t usually speak correctly.

“I should call my mom. Tell her about Ray,” I murmur and Christian stiffens. “I’m surprised she hasn’t called me.” I frown in a moment of realization. In fact, I feel hurt. It’s my birthday after all, and she was there when I was born. Why hasn’t she called?

Maybe she’s been kidnapped by Jack!

No, no! Different Jack. Settle down.

Ana checks her phone and finds texts from all these other people, but nothing from her mom, and when she tries to call her, she’s not home. Ana figures her mother forgot her birthday. Then Christian gets a call from Andrea:

“Good… ETA is what time?… And the other, um… packages?” Christian glances at his watch. “Does the Heathman have all the details?… Good… Yes. It can hold until Monday morning, but e-mail it just in case- I’ll print, sign, and scan it back to you… They can wait. Go home, Andrea… No, we’re good, thank you.”

I’m torn about this next section, guys. Let me tell you why. Ana asks Christian if his call was about the “Taiwan thing,” and he says yes, but it’s a cover for the fact that he’s throwing Ana this big surprise birthday party later that night. So, when this conversation happens:

“It is. The shipyard here depends on it. There are lots of jobs at stake.”

Oh!

“We just have to sell it to the unions. That’s Sam and Ros’s job. But the way the economy’s heading, none of us have a lot of choice.”

it makes me wonder if he’s just throwing out jargon to try and confuse her, so she doesn’t suspect about the party, or if E.L. James just doesn’t understand on an authorial level what Christian Grey does. Because none of that stuff seems to follow with getting packages at the Heathman. And if there are lots of jobs at stake and this is a huge, tense time… why can his assistant go home? Why can he take time off right now?

I’m going to be generous and say he was just snowballing so she wouldn’t suspect that he’s throwing her a party, but it’s not entirely necessary, is it? Ana just stumbles around in this constant state of awestruck stupidity when it comes to Christian. He could be planning a second wedding to Mrs. Robinson and she wouldn’t notice, so long as he held Ana in his lap and snuggled her and told her she was amazing while he did it.

Speaking of which, how does Ana spend her birthday in the hospital with her comatose father? BY MAKING IT ALL ABOUT CHRISTIAN, OF COURSE!

“I love philanthropic Christian,” I murmur.

“Just him?”

“Oh, I love megalomaniac Christian, too, and control freak Christian, sexpertise Christian, kinky Christian, romantic Christian, shy Christian… the list is endless.”

“That’s a whole lot of Christians.”

“I’d say at least fifty.”

He laughs. “Fifty shades,” he murmurs into my hair.

“My fifty shades.”

He shifts, tipping my head back, and kisses me. “Well, Mrs. Shades, let’s see how your dad is doing.”

If they start calling each other Mr. and Mrs. Shades, I don’t care that I’ve got two-hundred pages left, I will jam this fucking book in a paper shredder.

There’s a totally unnecessary section where they go for a drive in Ana’s new car, and then later they go to lunch. Which is also an entirely unnecessary scene; they only go so that Christian can mention the fact he took her home from a Portland bar drunk, and he can get jealous about the waiter who served them at Le Picotin in the last book. The plot doesn’t further in any way. Just, “Hey! Remember when all this stuff happened before? And I’m like, “No. Because I was way too drunk to remember any of this shit, thankfully.”

Then there’s a scene where Ana goes to her father’s hospital room to sit with him. We learn that Ray still wears his wedding ring, even though he and Ana’s mother have been divorced for a long time, and then Christian is all, “‘I want to feed you,'” and takes Ana back to the Heathman, where he’s bought her a dress and shoes and sexy underthings:

Unzipping the bag, I find a navy satin dress and ease it out. It’s gorgeous- fitted, with thin straps. It looks small.

“It’s lovely. Thank you. I hope it fits.”

That’s a good question. I mean, we haven’t heard over and over in this book, at least, not as much as we heard about it in the last two books, that Ana is practically blowing away in a faint breeze due to her extremely frail and waifish physique. Oh my god, maybe the dress won’t fit!

Ana takes a bath, and then this happens:

“Come,” he says, regarding me intently. I know that expression, and I know better than to disobey.

He just wanted to dry her hair. But how fucking ominous is that? “I know better than to disobey?” Why am I still surprised when this creepy shit pops up in these books?

There’s a section break, and:

When we step into the elevator on our way to dinner, we are not alone. Christian looks delicious in his signature white linen shirt, black jeans and jacket. No tie. The two women inside shoot admiring glances at him and less generous ones at me. I hide my smile. Yes, ladies, he’s mine.

Good. Keep him.

 Preach, Karen.

How many more times are we going to have to read about random bitches and skanks trying to steal Ana’s man? They’re only getting more and more boring. These particular bitches and skanks weren’t even described. How do we know if they were blonde or not? Or is that just a given?

The dress hugs me, skimming over my curves and holding everything in place.

How does that work? It’s either tight or not, and skimming sounds like it’s not. How is it holding everything in place if it’s skimming? NONE OF THESE WORDS WORK TOGETHER.

I have to say, I feel… attractive wearing it. I know Christian approves.

That statement would be a lot less sad if we knew those were two independent ideas, not that Ana feels attractive because Christian approves. But here we are. 

At first, I think we’re heading for the private dining room where we first discussed the contract, but he leads me past that doorway and on to the far end, where he opens the door to another wood-panelled room.

“Surprise!”

Oh my. Kate and Elliot, Mia and Ethan, Carrick and Grace, Mr. Rodriguez and José, and my mother and Bob are all there raising their glasses.

Is this an intervention to save Ana from her abusive relationship?!

Damnit, no. It’s just a surprise party. The reason her mom didn’t answer the phone or call her was because she was on the way to Portland in Christian’s plane. So, happy birthday, honey, I made you momentarily think your mother doesn’t love you while your other parent is on life support in the ICU! My timing is amazing! (Also, dear readers, remember that this shit is going down when Ana’s biological father DIED THE DAY AFTER HER BIRTHDAY… I know it’s easy to forget; the author obviously did.)

Christian’s brother has exactly the same kind of sensitivity to Ana’s situation:

“S’up babe? Your old man will be fine.” Elliot enfolds me in his arms. “Happy birthday.”

Seriously? HER FATHER IS IN THE ICU.

I gaze at Mom. She’s in her element, charming, witty, and warm. I love her so much. I must remember to tell her. Life is so precious, I realize that now.

But not when you were attacked by your boss, held at gunpoint by your husband’s ex, chased down a busy freeway by an unidentified assailant, stumbled upon a violent home invasion/foiled kidnapping attempt, and  your husband was in a helicopter crash? It takes a lot for Ana to get the fucking point, doesn’t it?

Ana and Kate discuss how sexy it is that Christian can fly a helicopter, and then:

Kate spits her wine rather unattractively down her chin, making us both laugh some more.

That’s the best present Ana could have gotten. Happy birthday, your friend did something that made her look unattractive.

They bring out Ana’s cake:

“Make a wish,” Christian whispers to me. In one breath I blow out all the candles, fervently willing my father better. Daddy, get well. Please get well. I love you so.

And it works! Because Ana is magic!

Okay, there are some scenes between the birthday wish the actual recovery, including one with Mr. Rodriguez where, apropos of nothing, he tells Ana that he thought José would have married her. Because there isn’t a single man in this series who doesn’t want to climb all over Ana. But I’m making it a point to skip scenes that are meaningless in the context of the narrative, so I’m skipping that one for sure.

After a section break, we’re back at the Heathman:

Christian closes the door to our suite.

“Alone at last,” he murmurs, leaning back against the door, watching me.

I step toward him and run my fingers over the lapels of his jacket. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday. You really are the most thoughtful, considerate, generous husband.”

In the morning, they all have breakfast together, give Ana presents- because this is apparently a fucking wedding or something- and then Ana goes to the hospital with her mother to visit Ray. It’s actually a pretty good scene, or would be, if it went anywhere important to the story or character development. Ana’s mom talks about how she still loves Ray, but they just changed as people, and it’s all very good, until we realize that the entire reason we’re reading this scene is for the conversation to turn back to Christian and how much he and Ana are in love:

“We are, I think. Getting there, anyway. I love him. He’s the center of my world. The sun rises and sets with him for me, too.”

“He obviously adores you, darling.”

“And I adore him.”

“Make sure you tell him. Men need to hear that stuff just like we do.”

Here’s why this doesn’t sit right with me. Ana is constantly telling Christian how much she loves him, how she cherishes him and he’s amazing. It’s not like this is something Christian is lacking in his life. And the scene is delivered as though there is some underlying trouble with Christian and Ana’s relationship. There is, don’t get me wrong, but it hasn’t been a major source of conflict in this book. Honestly, I would have preferred it if there had been some conflict, any conflict (that didn’t have to do with incredibly outlandish, mustache-twirling villains who drive cars that don’t even exist). So, putting this scene here is just a big, red flag that something is going to go wrong within the next two chapters, and obviously it’s going to be all Ana’s fault because she’s not loving enough or something.

Christian and Ana drive Bob and Renee (it’s Renee, right? In this book?) to the airport, and then they go back to the hospital, where Ray is off the ventilator in preparation for eventually waking up from his medicated coma. Ana reads Ray the sports page. I know I’ve complained before about the improbability of a hunting, fishing, good-ole boy Amurican like Ray loving soccer, but I’m sorry, I have to do it again. Especially considering it is now September 11, so the Mariners would still be playing. And in the previous scene, Renee or whoever the fuck Ana’s mom is specifically referenced the Mariners.

“And the final score, Sounders one, Real Salt Lake two.”

“Hey, Annie, we lost? No!” Ray rasps, and he squeezes my hand.

Daddy!

So, that happened.

I’ll be on vacation next week, so recaps will resume in July!