Lotta ground to cover here today, so prepare yourself.
OK, here we go.
RECOMMENDED READING
First, you people want book recommendations? You got 'em. Here's everything I've finished in the last month:
Queen of the Road is basically what would happen if you took me, gave me a modicum of maturity and a better education, and then tricked me into living on a (very nice) bus with my husband and pets for a year. I loved this book and I love this author. If you want a taste of what I'm talking about, check out Doreen Orion's website; it's probably the best author's site I've ever seen. Lots of multimedia stuff and you can read parts of the book!
A hidden bonus of going on book tour is meeting bookstore owners and employees. Such was the case at Good Great Place for Books in Oakland. (BTW, all of you who warned me about how murder-y Oakland is? Yeah, my biggest fear in this 'hood was being run over by a Range Rover.) Anyway, the owner picked out The Book of Joe by Jonathan Tropper and promised I'd enjoy it. She was so right. It's a story about an author who wrote a novel trashing the town where he grew up and what happens when he finally returns to that town years later.
Whacked by Jules Asner frustrates me, but only because as soon as I finished it I wanted to send Jules a big, squealing fangirl note and there's pretty much no way to contact her. No website, no MySpace, no Facebook, no nothing. (My guess it's because she's married to director Steven Soderberg and probably doesn't need ten billion aspiring screenwriters and actors using her book as an excuse to get to him.) Regardless, Whacked is kind of dark chick lit where the heroine is a stalker, but you root for her anyway. And love you, Jules Asner! Call me! Don't make me continue to stalk YOU.
Allison Winn Scotch recommended Confessions of a Contractor by Richard Murphy. (Do you read Allison's blog? I buy everything she recommends and I've yet to be anything less than delighted.) What's nice is this book actually explains why the fuck it took eight weeks to finish my bathroom, but more importantly, tells a solidly-crafted story about a contractor getting too involved with the lives of his clients.
The Opposite of Love by Julie Buxbaum is another AWS suggestion. I picked it up about a month ago and didn't put it down until I was done. It's a great novel about loss and love and finally figuring out who you are. Spellbinding, seriously.
And now, for what I'm about to read:
Alison Pace is one of my favorite authors, so her new novel City Dog is at the top of my stack. She excels at creating well-defined, witty characters. City Dog is about a serious novelist who takes a segue into writing bestselling children's books -it's sure to be a treat! Check out her Amazon blog and you can read the beginning!
Joanne Rendell is one of my MySpace buddies and her new book The Professors' Wives' Club just came out. It's being billed as Sex and the City for the academic set, and how can that not be interesting?
I bought Sheer Abandon by Penny Vincenzi because I opened it to a random page in the middle of the book and totally wanted to read more. (That's my litmus test for any book, BTW.) From what I understand it's about a baby born and abandoned in Heathrow airport and what happens when the kid grows up and wants to know who her mom is. I totally got a Lace vibe from it and, naturally, that spoke to my 80's-Phoebe-Cates-loving heart. ("Which one of you bitches is my mother?)
Twilight by Stephenie Meyer - this is my reward for finishing my own book. NO ONE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS. I figure anything that's inspired that much Facebook flair has to be addictive.
Sometimes I buy a book just for the cover. Check out Assisted Loving: True Tales of Double Dating with My Dad by Bob Morris. Because 80 is the new 70.
WHAT I'M WATCHING
First, Gossip Girl. Duh. But I've also been totally and completely obsessed with the CBS show Swingtown.
You guys, this is SO GOOD.
The story takes place in a wealthy Chicago suburb in 1976. It's about a nice nuclear family on its way up the social ladder. They move from their bucolic middle class neighborhood to a big house by the lake, across the street from a couple with an open marriage who suck them in to a swinger lifestyle.
Yes, all of the above sounds really cheesy and tawdry, but the writers have done an amazing job making every character complex, like the head of the swingers who secretly wishes to be a regular housewife and the old neighbor who has trouble coming to terms with her friend's family's success. Essentially the show is a bold look at the fallout from the sexual revolution of the 60's. And it's available on iTunes if you're interested and you may be able to see full episodes on CBS.com, free. Watch it for no reason other than to see the role Grant Show was born to play.
WEBSITES I OBSESSIVELY CHECK
If you all aren't already reading Jenny at the Blogess then do so immediately. Four words for you: Angry Transvestite Lego Army.
Senior editor Josh Wolk of EW has a blog and his take on pop culture is no less than brilliant. Enjoy! (And the next time I hit the bookstore, I'm getting his memoir Cabin Pressure.)
BATHROOM BEFORE AND AFTERS
Here's what my house looked like for eight weeks.
This was actually taken after some of the stuff was moved to the basement. Please note how I cannot get to my side of the bed, as well as the inch-thick drywall dust.
This is our dressing area. Do you know how many times I worried Fletch would get up in the dark and just whiz in the available toilet?
Why I couldn't get to my treadmill for eight weeks.
The tiling that took weeks. Multiple weeks.
Was it worth it?
The new ceiling in the powder room (that also took this bath out of the mix for eight weeks.)
My magnificent shower. You can't really see the detail but the little tiles are onyx and are a million different shades of beach-glass green.
You also can't see the sink detail but it's a slab of quartz with tiny slashes of sage green and brown marbling. You also can't see where Fletch had to shove the bucket because he just discovered that the sink is leaking. HA, HA, HA, FUCK.
FINALLY, WHAT PASSES FOR HUMOR AROUND HERE
Fletch was shaving off his goatee but insisted I get shots of him with just a mustache first. He laughed so hard he almost wet his pants when he saw this. I was all, "You look like a Chicago cop, what of it?"
"I haz a butt." "I haz a butt, too."
And finally, what I like to call Nature's Own Post-It Notes
Alrighty, I'll be back when the book is done!
(If you guys have any suggestions for good books, shows, or websites in the interim, put them in the comments.)
My mom was diagnosed with cancer when I was a little girl. And since we belonged to a close knit church and community, any time she was hospitalized, we were overwhelmed with casseroles. And she was hospitalized A LOT. Over the course of several year. These friends automatically sought to please the three kids in the home, so most of the casseroles involved cheese, potato chips, cheese, mayo, and more cheese. Mmmm. I never noticed my weight because my brothers and I were involved in a lot of activities to "distract us." But the problems started when I hit puberty at 9. Suddenly, while my older brothers were trying to gain weight for wrestling, mine was sticking, even with sports and dance. Still, I don't think anyone was worried, and seriously, who is going to stop a little girl who has a dying mom from having a bowl of ice cream after dinner?
My mom died when I was 11, and if I thought we had a "friends bringing food by" problem before, this event multiplied it by 100. Friends and neighbors filled both our fridges, and implemented a plan to keep us fed for 2 months, making sure the widower with little cooking experience could keep his kids alive.
At this time, I also became a latchkey eater...I mean kid. With no one home to supervise my snacking, I'd pour a bowl of doritos, eat them all, pour another and hide it behind a pillow on my bed (those grease stains never came out by the way) so I could munch in secret while I did homework. Occasionally I'd mix it up with a bowl of ice cream, or a large candy bar. I'd decided to take a break from activities for awhile because I wasn't into it. Obviously, I realize now that was eating to mask my grief.
One day, about 4 months after my mom died, my dad looked at me and saw an eleven year old who was already wearing a B (almost C) cup, and whose pudge couldn't be explained by baby fat anymore. Since I was the youngest and the only girl, he didn't know much about raising a girl through through puberty. But he knew enough that he wanted me to be healthy and happy and he had to do something. Although people are kind of appalled at what he did now, I still am grateful for it.
He asked me to weigh myself. And when I told him how much I weighed, he told me he thought I was getting too heavy for my body type and height, and offered me $2 for every pound I lost. And in 1990 when my only income was very sporadic babysitting, that was a huge motivator. (To be honest, when he put the stakes out, my first thought was, "that's a lot of Sweet Valley High books!").
I discovered my bike again, started eating carrot sticks, and switched out my two regular sodas for one diet one. I skipped desserts, and took long post dinner walks with my dad. And it worked! I slimmed down to a weight that was appropriate. And I got to forge a much closer relationship with my dad...one that I still rely on today. I helped him lose weight too, encouraging him to cut out the sugar in his coffee and those big candy bars I used to steal from him.
My weight still fluctuates, but I attribute the healthier lifestyle that I lead to what happened in that difficult time. I give props to my dad, who although he could never fathom taking me shopping for a bra or other "girl" stuff, made a decision about/for me that helped change my life.
In fact, he still makes weight loss bets with my brothers and I. He won big for his own wedding, and we're now setting new stakes. It's $5 a pound now, but the losers have to pay the winner. I'm aiming to get at least $50 from him this time...18 years later.