Reading books

I haven't done it in a while. Magazines, sure. But I haven't had the time or attention span for books lately. Probably because I can't stand to read a book over the course of a month ... or a week, even. When I read, I don't fuck around. I like to blaze through books in a day or two.

I've always been a really fast reader. But and if I let a book sit for two long in between reads, it's hard for me to go back to it. It's one of my quirks. Whatever.

So it was cool, during my week-long vacation, to devour some books as I listened to ocean waves crash up on shore. Relaxing!

Here's what I read:

"The Unauthorized Biography of Tom Cruise" by Andrew Morton: Wow. A super interesting read about a famous, controlling guy with a raging case of little man's syndrome. But the stuff about Cruise was overshadowed by all the inside information about Scientology, based on tons of research and interviews with high-up people who eventually left the cult. To each their own, I guess. But I can't believe people really believe in this stuff.

"Secrets of a Shoe Addict" by Beth Harbison: This book came to me in a press release at work. It was OK. A bunch of PTA moms who barely know each other go on a school trip to Las Vegas and get into some financial trouble. So they come home and earn money as phone sex operators and become friends. It had its charming moments and it was an easy read, but overall is was ... meh.

"Shopaholic and Baby" by Sophie Kinsella: My friend Pam sent me this book months ago, and as much as I love SK, I never got around to reading it. (I blame the dogs and the television for this.) In the book, shopaholic Becky Bloomwood is back, and this time she's having a baby. It's a really cute read, and when you read it, this phrase will forever crack you up: "She's a red-headed bitch and I hate her."

"My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Picoult: An incredible work of fiction that is beautifully written and charming and touching and thought-provoking. A young girl who has spent her entire 13 years donating blood, bone marrow and other things to her sister, who has cancer, sues her parents for medical emancipation when they ask her to donate a kidney. It's a brilliant piece of work, and not as much of a tearjerker as it sounds like. The author's breezy writing propels you through.

So, any more suggestions?

Invisible cricket

Summary haikus:

Every morning, you're loud
as hell, outside the front door.
Yet, I can't find you.

During the storm, you
must have been freaked. I could hear
you over the monsoon.

I like your noises,
but it's weird we haven't met.
Please show yourself now.

Random music thoughts for Thursday

I've been thinking a lot about music during the past week.

First, my new friend JacQue and I have been talking about RZA's new single (and can I just add that she's the only woman I've ever met who loves Wu-Tang Clan as much as me? It's awesome!). Second, Javacia wrote a blog about Soulja Boy/Ice-T/hip-hop that made me think a little bit too.

So I've been listening a lot more carefully the past couple of days, really absorbing it instead of having it on as a backdrop while I drive around and talk to people on my cell phone. Here are some random words/phrases you never hear in music and make me smile when they pop up: Buffoonery (Jay-Z); Tally ho (Method Man); cerebral cortex (RZA); humdinger (Saigon); scallywag (J-Ro); jingle-jangle (Tash).

Also, in hip-hop, people are always debating their top five (or top 10) artists of all time. I've always found that impossible to do; my top lists have always been separated into categories because I like different artists for different reasons. As of today, my lists are as follows and are in no particular order.


Favorite lyricists:
Nas
Slick Rick
Jay-Z
Boots Riley (The Coup)
Biggie
Inspectah Deck
Redman
Tash
Method Man
Talib Kweli
Mad Skillz
Andre 3000
Lupe Fiasco


My favorite voices:
Method Man
RZA
Snoop Dogg
Lyrics Born
Chali 2na
Snaggapuss
Slick Rick
Andre 3000
Q-Tip
U-God
Ghostface Killah


Dopest flow:
Slick Rick
Mr. Cheeks
Method Man
Busta Rhymes
Ghostface Killah
Mos Def
Chali 2na
Del
Bahamadia
Freddie Foxxx
Ludacris

Unleash the word police

So, today I pulled up behind a truck bearing the following bumper sticker: "If you can read this, your TOO DAMN CLOSE."

I know grammar and spelling aren't everyone's bag, and that's fine. (See my previous post on this topic.) I'm not a real big fan of math, for that matter.

But don't we learn the difference between your/you're; their/there/they're; and to/too/two in, oh, I don't know, third to fifth grade? I mean, it's not like someone misspelled "antidisestablishmentarism" on the bumper decal -- a faux pas that would be perfectly reasonable. Expected, even.

It's amazing to me that a company spent the time and money to create a fucked up sticker, presumably to be sold to many people. Clearly, though, some people don't notice the error and stick it to the tailgate of their Dodge Ram anyway. But still, don't companies have proof readers?

I'm not saying I'm perfect. All people make mistakes, typos, etc. It just seems like businesses would make the effort to double check stuff that's on display to the public.

I'll close my rant with my favorite example, which was written in enormous capital letters on a dry erase board at Dooley's Bagels. "TRUKEY SANDWICHES: SPECIAL OF THE MONTH." And it read like that for the entire month -- again, on a dry erase board, which could be fixed in about two seconds. I went in there for coffee and bagels about 8 times that month, and I cringed every time.

Oh well. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm currently watching "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?" for the first time and it's really sad. I'm beginning to realize that tons and tons and tons of people are dumber than rocks.

Oh well. One more day until the weekend! Yippee!

"If it has shoes the cover, I know you'll read it."

Summary haiku:
Am I really that
shallow, or does my husband
just pay attention?





Yesterday, Kyle was on his way out the door, on his way to a library clearance sale where they were getting rid of extra books: Everything you can fit in one (giant) box for $10.

He said he'd try and find some stuff for me, too, but he wasn't entirely sure what I'd like to read. Then, after a pause, he said, "I'll just look for anything with a shoe on the cover. If it's got that, I know you'll read it."

I laughed really hard at his joke -- but mostly because it's true. I guess that's what happens when you're with someone for more that 7 years. Two of my favorite reads are "In Her Shoes" by Jennifer Weiner and the (somewhat horrifying) fairy tale, "The Red Shoes" by Hans Christian Andersen.

So Kyle called me after he was done and said he'd scored about 15 books.

"Did you get any that weren't about sports or being a black man in America?," I asked. And he starting cracking up. Because you know what? I know his reading habits, too.

In the end, he also knows my passion for fiction and true crime novels, so he did pick me up a few offerings -- none with footwear on the front. But if they're no good, well, they were only $1.25 a piece.

I'm baaack

When I promised myself I'd be religious about flexing my writerly muscle on this blog, I fully expected to follow through. However, weird and long hours at work, playing tug-of-war with the pets and watching crap like "I Love New York 2" and "America's Next Top Model" easily distracted me.

Besides, only a few people know about this blog, so there aren't many people to hold me accountable.

Anyway, I'm trying it again. And hopefully, it goes better than my repeated attempts at establishing a regular workout routine, which also seem to ebb and flow despite the daily glimpses of flab I see each time I pass by the mirror.

Unfortunately, I'm too fried to post anything of substance at the moment. A 6 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. shift will do that to a girl. But tomorrow is a brand new day... and I have plenty of random thoughts about house hunting, The Dog Incident and what I will wear with my new pewter boots.

For now, off to bed to dream about giant goblets of expensive red wine and when we will finally get a king sized bed that comfortably accomodates me, Kyle and the pets.

The Onion makes me cry ... from laughing.

SUMMARY HAIKU:
No words can really
do The Onion justice. I
strive to write that well.


It's hard to say how I got sidetracked from visiting The Onion's website.

But suddenly, I returned to the fictional news website week and I'm hooked again. It helps take the edge off work stress and real-life depressing news. But the real draw is the sharp wit with which every story and column are written.

Take this commentary on fashion: This Gap Sweater is Fucking Awesome

Or this story: Future of Genteel Town In Jeopardy After Doily Factory Goes Out of Business

And of course, the always-entertaining columns by Herbert Kornfield, the gangsta accounts receivable supervisor at Midstate Office Supply, who hooked me 10 years ago with his column, Keep Your Fucking Shit Off My Desk.

Man, I love the Onion.