Hello...This is ALL About the Books

So today is New Year's Eve. There are many things that I look forward to in the new year. Although I think it is sort of funny the way we act as though a date on a calendar marks a start of something totally different. It is not totally different, right? It's just another new day. But I always feel something new when January 1 rolls around, and this year is no different. I have a good feeling about this one. Of course I have many many goals and such, and I am not going to list them all here. But...this is a blog about books...or it is supposed to be, primarily, and once I am all finished with this writing every day thing, I am going to focus on books and books and then more books. And today I am going to write a list of books that I cannot wait to read in 2012.

1. Saving Francesca and Froi of the Exiles by Melina Marchetta. I put these together because of Marchetta. She's fantastic, and I love her writing...in fact, she is probably my favorite YA author (along with E. Lockhart, of course). Moreover, I respect her novels because she respects teenagers and their intelligence. She creates stories that speak to the human condition in a very honest/real way. Unfortunately, I don't think that enough YA authors give that sort of thought/effort to their target audience. So I'm putting her at the top of my list this year.

2. Middlemarch by George Eliot. I've been putting this off for far too long, and I haven't had enough of the classics in my literary diet, so this is high priority. I've been sort of missing something in my reading, and I really do think it's more of the more classical variety. Especially work by the Brits. I love the Brits!

3. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. I adored the movie version. Oh that BBC!!! How I love those folks over across the pond. Another classic.

4. Angus, Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging by Louise Rennison. I know how it sounds, but it comes highly recommended by a friend that I completely trust. We have very similar taste in books. That and she says it is hi.lar.i.ous. And heaven knows I could use some hilarity.

5. Bossy Pants by Tina Fey. I have got to get my hands on this. I love Tina Fey.

6. Uncle Silas by Joseph Sheridan le Fanu. It's another classic, but I've done a little research, and I'm saving this for my October fright fix...that yearly urge that comes around every fall that tells me I need to get a bit scared. Please, oh please, I hope this one does the trick!

7. Okay for now by Gary D. Schmidt. Since I fell in love...IN LOVE...with The Wednesday Wars, I've been dying for another gem from Mr. Schmidt, and I hear some good things about this one.

8. The House at Riverton by Kate Morton. I'm hoping that she'll be one of those writers that I just can't stop reading. Two books in, and so far it's a go. Her fourth book should come out this year, too. Good stuff.

9. The Twelve by Justin Cronin. I'm probably more excited about this book than any other. I loved The Passage. It was a creeeeeeeepy book, and so when I say loved, I probably mean intrigued/enthralled/engrossed/couldn't put it down. So I'm pretty excited about this next one in the series. It's supposed to release this year, and I hope it comes sooner rather than later.

10. Six Impossible Things by Fiona Wood. I'm not going to lie to you and call me ridiculous if you must, but I picked this book based solely on its title. Why? Don't people mostly just choose based on a cover? Why yes they do...including me. I'll admit that the YA genre is filled with mediocrity disguised in a fabulous cover. But this title...recalling a favorite line from the new Alice in Wonderland movie...has me intrigued. And I absolutely fell in love with that movie and its message...to do the impossible...oh, I'm really hoping for an emotional pay off.

So that is my list of top ten to reads in 2012. Happy Reading in the new year!

In Cold Blood

So here is my review, as promised.

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I'm giving this five stars, but that does not mean that I think people should run out and read it. It was really dark, and I found myself having some pretty hopeless, dark thoughts about my own life while I was reading it, so I say go forward with caution.

The story, as probably almost everyone is aware, centers on two men who, in mid-November of 1959, headed out to a farm near Garden City, Kansas, and killed the Clutter family: a farmer, Herbert, his wife, Bonnie, and their two teenage children, Nancy and Kenyon. The crime, discovered by Nancy's friends the next morning, seemed entirely senseless. And it was.

While the book focuses heavily on the criminals who committed the crime, Capote sets the stage by introducing the reader to the victims and the community around them. The Clutter family was loved and respected, and so I am certain that their friends and neighbors were all the more horrified and frightened by what happened.

And then, as the reader, you don't find out why these two men did what they did until you are well into the story. I won't say too much about their motives, but I will say that it makes the tale all the more tragic to find out what happened the night they went to the Clutter's farm.

So what disturbed me most? Capote goes into both the history and the psychoses of these guys, and it is not a pretty picture; in fact, it is both sad and very pathetic. But what makes it worse is knowing that it's true. These men were real. What they did was real. The lives they lived were real.

Dick Hickock was the man who hatched the plot, and of the two criminals, this guy was more horrible. I'm not a psychiatrist or a psychologist, but I think he was a sociopath with no real sense of conscience. I don't think he felt any remorse for what he had done, only regret that he had been caught when he was so certain that he would get away with it. He was willing to do anything at all to get what he thought was his due. And he was so arrogant that even after fleeing Kansas for Mexico, he decided that they would return, continuing their crime spree across several states before finally being caught in Nevada.

Perry Smith was a little bit more sympathetic. I don't think he was a sociopath so much as he was scarred and angry because of his horrible childhood. Not that I think that is any excuse because lots of people have horrible childhoods, and they don't commit murder as a result. I do think, however, that his particular psychosis was a rage born of both extreme neediness and extreme neglect. He snapped, and unfortunately the Clutter family had to pay the price. Don't get me wrong. He was still disturbing, but I just had more sympathy for him than for Hickock.

Capote is both skilled as a writer and thorough as a researcher. The end result? It reads like a novel, up until the end, anyway, when he delves into the legal battle surrounding the case and the death penalty in Kansas, which I actually found very interesting. I really really like the way Capote's prose reads. And then I don't know how many people he interviewed, but it was a lot. A lot. The amount of detail he was able to go to was very impressive.

Still, I don't know if I'm recommending it. I think, in the end, it wasn't the motive that bothered me so much as it was the pure psychopathy of these men. I kept wondering to myself if I could be anything like them. Not that I would do what they did, of course, but that we as humans in general could be capable of killing in cold blood. I suppose that is what makes it such a good book. Capote is able to take the reader into the minds of these two men, and what you see isn't pretty, but you know that somehow they were able to do it. I suppose, now that I've read it, that I am just not sure that all reality needs to be represented. And that is why I say proceed with caution.

And now please excuse me while I go read something completely light, funny and innocent so I can get the taste of this particular book out of my mouth.

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Representing Reality

I'm reading Truman Capote's In Cold Blood. It isn't a book to be taken lightly. Review tomorrow.

But I have something to say about it today. It's dark. Obviously, since it's based on true events, and Capote doesn't going to extremes to make it worse than it is. These guys were just really messed up, and that is what makes the book both fascinating and horrifying.

So today I've been finishing it. There I was, lying in my bed, taking it all in, and I realized that it was having an effect on me. My own thoughts were quite dark...the thoughts I was having about my own life, that is, and I felt a sense of hopelessness. I felt like I was a bad person, that maybe I had more in common with these men who coldly killed a family than I thought.

I had yet to finish the story, but I put the book down for a while. And then something inside me said it's not you, but it is the book. The book was having an impact on how I felt because these men were so bad and what they did and how they did it was so horrible. I still finished it (I only had about fifty pages or less to go at that point). But now I feel more aware of what I want to read and why I want to read it, and I think that I should be more careful in the future of what I do choose to put into my mind.

Don't get me wrong. The book is well written, and I don't think Capote was trying to be either sensationalistic or opportunistic when he wrote it. He was very objective, in my opinion, anyway. But it doesn't change the fact that it is a story about a very cold blooded twosome, and now I need to read something uplifting to get the taste out of my mouth. And maybe, even if a story is true, and maybe, even it that same story is compelling and interesting, maybe not all reality needs to be represented. I'm not sure. In any case, I'm much more aware of the impact such stories have on my own psyche, and I'm going to be careful what I read in the future.

Good Eats

Oh but I do remember one of the great things about this lovely place I live in, and that is...good eats everywhere you go. Did you know that about Utah County? We sure do have our share of the chains, of course, and some of those I'm alright with...like Texas Roadhouse. Say it like you are a true Texan and you'll know what I mean. It's not too shabby. But you know, Applebees? Meh. I suppose it will do in a pinch, but I'm not really into that scene.

But boy oh boy do I like the good eats around these parts. Here are a few places, both old and new, that I love.

1. You know what has to come first...Cafe Rio. And it is, now, a chain, but I love it. I hope it doesn't suffer a downhill slide now that it's getting all national and famous. The salads, of course, are my fave, but I have yet to eat anything from their menu I did not enjoy.

2. Tried a new place tonight. Malawis. MMMMMM. Unique pizzas with very thin crust. Yummy salad. I'll be going back.

3. The Chocolate...a dessert cafe. Dessert decadence...deeeeelightful. Just reminds me of the big city bakeries, like Magnolia. Which is decent enough, I guess. But I like this better.

4. Gandolfo's is home to one of my favorite subs. The Holland Tunnel. Its sauce is the boss! Now here I am fully willing to admit that Capriati's is superior, what with the Capistrami and the Bobby. But alas we do not have a Capriati's so I'll have to content myself with Gandolfo's...still love it.

5. Okay, so it's gone now...at least in Provo...which is sad but the Training Table. Not for their burgers. Give me Five Guys or Red Robin any old day of the week and I'll be a happy girl. No, it's for their cheese fries and special sauce that I long. Heavenly.

6. Los Hermanos. I wouldn't call this the best Mexican restaurant. I've had some good Mexican food in my day. I'm thinking Villa Grande in Aubrey, Texas and there was this one restaurant in Vegas that I can't remember the name of or even where it's located, but it was delightful. The refried beans were the best I've ever had and you know you are getting go Mexican when the beans are done right. Still, I like I love Los Hermanos because of the good memories. I'm actually sort of sad that they moved locations on Center Street in Provo.

7. Speaking of memories, Brick Oven for their salad bar/green ranch. I worked their for soooooo long that I can't really say that I love their food, but that ranch dressing is awesome. Oh, and the chocolate mousse pie is the best mousse pie EVER. I can't forget the homemade root beer, either, which I also quite enjoy.

8. BYU's Creamery on 9th. Take it from a girl who worked at a fast food restaurant that was connected to a dairy...a real and honest to goodness working dairy. We had some homemade ice cream that was so so so good. And so I know good ice cream, and BYU's Creamery serves up the best.

9. The Trolley in Springville. They have some of the best salads. Good stuff, I tell you, good stuff.

10. Hickory Kist deli. The bread is so soft and (oh I'm going to use that word) moist. There, I said it, and well, it is true. And they also have this chicken and dumpling soup. I wonder if they still make that?

So there is my list of places I like in this here Utah County. I'm always looking for new places to try, however. Like Pizzeria 712 and JDawgs. And any others that people may have to suggest.

Listening

I've been impressed, of late, with the importance of a special talent. I think it's a rare gift. The gift is that of really listening.

Think about the last conversation you had and then ask yourself if you were listening to what the other person was saying or whether you were trying to think of the next thing you were going to say in the conversation.

I think at times I am a good listener, but I am pretty sure that much of the time I am not. I'm guilty of trying to think of what to say next rather than really hearing what my fellow in chit-chat has to say. It's distressing to admit it. Mostly because I think that it's a pretty self-centered habit...thinking of what important thing you will spout off next, especially if you are listening to someone who really needs a friend.

I also think I do it when I want to be heard but I don't want to hear. You know those times when you might feel the need to vindicate or justify yourself. Or when you feel the need to be right about something. I find I'm not listening really well at those times but rather I am think mostly about myself and making sure that everyone around me gets my perspective, and that's pretty selfish and stupid.

And then I must admit that I am always so very grateful when I do have that friend who really listens to me when I need it. Or I think about those people who don't feel like they need to be right or to vindicate themselves. And I realize that listening to others really is a gift, and it is a gift that I want to cultivate better. I don't have to be heard all the time. In fact, probably most of the time...I actually need to do some listening.

Anne...

People often ask me what I'm reading and what I recommend they read. This is a list of favorite books. But not just favorite books. These are books that had a very important impact on my reading habits and on my life. In no particular order...here you go:

1. Jane Eyre. This is probably my favorite book of all time. I loved to read before I ever picked this up. And to be honest it took me three starts to get into it, but I don't think I've ever been as enthralled or in love with any story the way I am with this one.

2. Little House on the Prairie. My love for reading probably started with this series. I read it four or five times, often over Christmas break. I couldn't get enough of it.

3. The Little Princess. I didn't know the name of this book when I read it and I can't tell you why. I don't know if the cover/cover pages were missing??? I just picked it up and started reading and later I found out it was the Little Princess.

4. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. If Jane Eyre is my favorite novel, this comes in a very close second. I've read it four or five times...just like Little House on the Prairie, and I will probably read it again. Love it for the prose and the story. So good.

5. Life of Pi. I honestly was fascinated by this book. Fascinated.

6. Night. I taught this for several years. Depressing, of course, but fascinating. It lead to a real interest in Holocaust literature. I read Man's Search for Meaning and The Sunflower because I wanted to understand how people survived. So interesting and life affirming.

7. The Great Gatsby. This is in my top five. Fitzgerald's prose is perfection, and the story breaks my heart.

8. Huckleberry Finn. When I read it as a teen, I liked it. But when I read it as an adult, I understood the satire and I laughed hard at Twain's genius. He's brilliant.

9. To Kill a Mockingbird. This book reaffirms my love for reading every time I've read it.

10. Gone With the Wind. You have to be kidding me, this is sooooo good. I've read it twice and I loved it more the second time around.

11. The Book Thief. A modern masterpiece. If I were still teaching, I would teach this.

12. The Passage. This book is beyond creepy, and I cannot wait to read the next in the series.

13. Harry Potter. How can you not love this? I don't know why people don't eat this stuff up. It's sooooo good. And Harry Potter is probably my favorite character in all of literature. I want to be bffs with Jo Rowling!!!

13. Lord of the Rings. Of course, I would have to include this, and I plan on rereading it this new year.

14. The Wednesday Wars. I would be teaching this little gem as well. I love love loved the voice.

15. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. I think this is probably on my top three reads of the year. I love E. Lockhart's style.

16. Romancing Miss Bronte. The story of Charlotte Bronte - fictional but very close to her real life. She was interesting, smart, kind, good...genius.

17. These is My Words. It really took me back to Little House and I loved it. I'm certain I will reread it in the future.

18. The Help. Many people have called this commercial fiction and some have said it fails to recognize the seriousness that was the civil rights movement. I don't know about that. I loved it. I couldn't put it down.

19. I Capture the Castle. Adorable.

20. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I'm pretty sure this was a favorite for book clubs last year. I can see why, too. Great story.

21. Empire Falls. I read this about seven years ago. I still think about it.

22. Dandelion Wine. Honestly one of the most unique books I've ever read. In my top ten.

23. The Poisonwood Bible. Another that I read several years ago that I still think about.

24. Pride and Prejudice. So I've never been able to finish a Jane Austen novel before. I'm going to try this year. BUT...I did finish this and I loved it!

25. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Again, people called this commercial, but I loved it.

26. The Chosen. Fascinating...another one that I plan to reread.

27. The Joy Luck Club. I'd never read a story that shifted between the central characters the way this did, and I think I fell in love with it for that reason alone.

28. Cold Sassy Tree. Laugh out loud funny. Endearing. Best narrator ever!

29. A Separate Peace. I know a lot of people hate this book, but I thought it was haunting.

30. 1984. Probably the first really grown-up book I read. I pulled it off the shelf in AP English, and I was hooked. It was horribly frightening and bleak, but I couldn't put it down.

31. The Scarlet Pimpernel. An ode to camp in all its fine fine glory.

32. Anna Karenina. I admit it. It's sad and somewhat bleak. But it's also hopeful. It's on my top five list.

33. The Picture of Dorian Gray. These last few stories are depressing, but this one...man, I don't know of any story that has stayed with me like this did.

34. The Kite Runner. Sooooooooooooooooo good. Brutal and sad. On my top ten list.

35. Mere Christianity. Probably one of the best defenses of belief in Jesus Christ. No one explains faith better than Lewis.

36. The Count of Monte Cristo. Entertaining as all get out.

37. The Princes Bride. Hilarious. As funny as the movie.

38. The Hunger Games. At least the first two books in the series. Original. Page turners.

39. On the Jellicoe Road. Melina Marchetta is probably my fave young adult author these days. I love her work.

40. Unbroken. I admit that I don't read a lot of nonfiction, but this was well worth it. One of my top three this year. I couldn't put it down.

41. Anne of Green Gables. My inspiration for this list. I was thinking about Miss Anne today. She was bold and bright and I wanted to be her...or at least just like her. And this is also number one on my list. Because I can't choose between Anne and Jane. Both such great great stories.

So there you have it. My list of favorite books. There are lots more...that I will save for another day.

So This is Christmas...

I miss childhood Christmases. Don't you? I miss that excited feeling in my little round tummy (I was pretty chubby as a kid, you guys). I miss the way I believed in Santa...long after I'd been told there was no Santa. I miss the excitement we had when Thanksgiving came around and my parents would bust out all of the ornaments and decorations, and we would hang lights on the tree and string popcorn and we had all of that dusty, tacky old silver tinsel that we would spread out over the tree.

But this year was so quiet, and I miss that excitement and loudness and all the fun of watching the living room fill up with wrapping paper. I miss seeing what my siblings got, and freaking out over a new outfit or a pair of skis. Not because I want my mom and dad to spend lots of money or anything at all like that. I just love seeing how excited people get and feeling excited myself.

Still I can't complain at all. It was a good year. Peyton and I put together his new Knight's Bus... a Harry Potter Lego set (!!! and you know how much I loved that). We sat down on the floor together and we busted those pieces out, and we built ourselves a little bus, complete with Stan Shunpike and Mr. Harry Potter himself. We ate yummy food...mmmm I love turkey and ham and potatoes and such. I love homemade cherry pie. I love homemade rolls.

Oh, and my dad, very very generously, got a gym membership just for me. And heaven knows I needed that membership, so I'm really really happy about it. I think it's my impetus for getting one of my Christmas wishes this year - the healthy wish. The wish that I get into those jeans and finally start feeling better about my body. I actually think it might be my favorite gift ever. I would not have purchased it for myself at this point, but I've wanted one for a long time. So bring on the work outs and the healthy eats...I'm ready!

All I Want for Christmas

Here is my wish list for Christmas this year:

1. I want to date...and I want to find a boyfriend who will then be my husband.

2. I want to get a job, but mostly I want to write a book and I want that to become my job.

3. I want to spend more time with friends and family. I want to connect more with people.

4. I want to get healthy in 2012. Really healthy. Run a marathon healthy. Fit into my new jeans healthy.

5. I want to find ways to help other people.

6. This sort of goes along with getting a job, but I want to be a contributing member of society. This may sound strange, but I want to be paying my taxes because that will mean that I am doing something with my life. I want to be able to sponsor a family in need for Christmas next year. I want to pay forward all the kind things people have done for me this past year and a half.

7. I want a really good kiss on New Year's Eve.

8. I want a car.

9. I want to take a road trip in that car to Las Vegas so that I can visit my friends there...and then maybe head on to SoCal to see Nate, my Aunt Mary Anne and Uncle Richard, and go to Disneyland.

10. I want to be more like Christ...to love more, to be grateful more often, to serve others.

The Distant Hours

I made a goal this year to read fifty-four books. I'm not sure I'm going to make it there, but I'm close, and if I get to fifty, I'll feel good about it. And this? This is number forty-nine. Forty-nine was goooooood! Loved it.

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Alright, so here goes. Edie Burchill finds herself at Milderhurst Castle unraveling the mystery of the Sisters Blythe and her mother's childhood after her mother receives a long lost letter fifty years after she was sheltered at Milderhurst during World War II. So that's enough of a summary...on with the fun!

I would probably give the ending of the book a four. BUT...it was so good in the middle, and I love books that are good in the middle. You know what I mean? When books are good in the middle, that means the author knows what she is doing to keep the pace of the plot going. Kate Morton means business when she tells a story, and I'm telling you what - she really knows how to keep you hanging on for the next piece of the mystery. In fact, I was up until three in the morning finishing it, so I'm giving it a five. It's my favorite to stay up late reading a book that I cannot put down...one of the real pleasures in life. So it deserves five stars even if I had a few issues with the ending.

Much like The Forgotten Garden, Morton takes the reader through two time periods, weaving the story of the younger Blythe sisters and their mysterious castle into the present story of Edie and her mother's mysterious childhood. The story includes typical Gothic elements: death by fire, ghostly visitors, characters driven mad through loss, overbearing/abusive parental figures, and mystery mystery mystery. This is what kept me up late reading it. When I picked it back up last night, I was only going to read a chapter or two, but I started in at a crucial moment...and then it got a little creepy, and oh how I LOVED that! It was two in the morning, and I was looking around a little and burrowing under the covers. Just a little spookiness is always a bonus. Anyway, by the time I got to the spookiness, I had to keep reading. I really wanted to know what was coming next.

Another reason I sort of adore it? It's vaguely reminiscent of several great novels, including Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Woman in White...you get the idea. It also reminded me of Atonement, although I admit that I've only seen the movie. In any case, I enjoy the way Morton is able to call up memories of past great novels without pillaging and plundering (read...plagiarizing) them and then calling it her own.

And I cannot say enough about her voice. It's just beautiful the way she can describe a moment, a thought, a sight, a sound. I would love to sit down with her and pick her brain and find out just how it is that she can write the way she does. Even if you are not into her stories, you cannot deny that she has a way with prose. Her writing is truly nothing short of impeccable.

So my issues came at the end. I loved the way the story started, and I've already told you that the middle was amazing. But the ending is a little too...I don't know? In parts it's very neat and clean, almost too neat and clean for my taste. And at times it was too twisting...too much "surprise...bet you didn't see that coming." Of the two, I would prefer less of the "surprise...gotcha!" moments. It feels kitchy, and in my humble opinion, as skilled a writer as Morton is, she really doesn't need to resort to gimmicky endings. She already has her reader.

But how can I complain about such a great story? I cannot...I say read it!


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Strange Answers

"One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves." (Elder L. Tom Perry)

So I had to check this out. Here's why. P Diddy (Sean Combs...aka Puff Daddy) tweeted this today, and of course Mormons everywhere are going nuts. Well, you guys, I don't take anything for granted because those Mormon myths have a way of spreading themselves around. Take, for example, the story about Snoop Dogg joining the church. Absolutely false but someone put up a fake CNN page and the story went viral among the faithful. Anyway, I did a little sleuthing, and I actually found the talk Elder Perry gave in which he said this. It's called "Be the Best of Whatever You Are" and was given in March of 1974 at a BYU devotional. You can read it here.

Surprising that P. Diddy would be quoting Elder Perry, a man he probably does not know. I also looked to see if he actually tweeted it, and he did. But that aside, I like the line after this, where Elder Perry went on to say: "One of our common failings is to depreciate our tremendous worth."

Ouch.

I see the worth in others so easily, but I know I am guilty of depreciating my own. Today I read an article about Oprah Winfrey. I like Oprah. I think she is a lot of things. Generous and kind hearted, of course. But she is human, too. The article pointed out her failings, but it did so in a way that made her benevolence seem all the greater. I knew she'd been abused as a young girl, but I didn't know the extent. It was worse than I thought, and I imagined Miss Winfrey as a girl, and then pondered her career is a public figure. The article lent a sense of vulnerability to the steely determination that was her rise to fame and fortune. And recognizing her vulnerability helped me to see how impressive her success is. She didn't allow those horrible things to depreciate her own value.

It is easy to forget that every person, even Oprah Winfrey, has a life filled with so much more than just success. There are also failures and there are also tragedies.

I am imperfect. Right now, it seems, my life is a wreck. A failure. But I see that I have gifts and potential, and I believe that those things were given to me by God. Elder Perry said something more, though. And I think that the key to his message was this: am I going to be among "the divine children of our Father in heaven who have enough faith in themselves to make the effort to do something important with their lives."?

Enough faith in myself to make the effort to do something important with my life...hmmmmmm. Now that is something to ponder. Right now I don't. And I'm not. And I know that faith is more than just saying something. It's more than a feeling you get. Faith has to be more. It has to be action.

A strange day, to be able to find such a good message through such an unexpected source...a message from an apostle of God. And to have read that article. I really don't believe that life is filled with random coincidences, and sometimes, I really think God is giving out the answer to the test because He sees you need it. That and you need to know that He hears you.

Camping

I like the idea of it. In the abstract, but then when it comes to camping in real life, well, then I start to think about my bed, and I do not want to lay on the hard ground, you know? So I don't know that I actually like camping. I like going to the mountains; I like enjoying a bonfire and making tinfoil dinners. I don't love s'mores because of the marshmallows and who likes those anyway, is what I want to know? They are seriously yucky. But I do like the chocolate and the graham crackers. Then it comes time to crawl in the tent and sleep in the bag and...that's just where I have to say that we are spoiled and lucky and we have beds, and that is where I want to sleep...warm and cozy in my bed. That and I want to be somewhere close to a bathroom where I can go to a clean place and brush my teeth, and if I wake up in the middle of the night, well, you know I can go in a warm place, and I'm not stumbling through an unfamiliar campsite where I might end up stumbling over a rock or getting smacked in the face by a random branch or some such nonsense and now it's official that this is a run-on. I needed to get that out of my system.

So anyway you guys, I have a story about camping, and I hope I haven't already shared it here, but my friends and I, well, we are silly silly girls. I was a sophomore at BYU and school had started, but Labor Day had rolled around, as is its habit. So at about seven o'clock of a Sunday night we decided we needed to go camping. Jamie and Dawn and Camille and I made a decision to go camping on Labor Day weekend at seven p.m. on Sunday night. Do you know how epically crazy that was? Um, pretty much I don't think a single one of us understood that you can't get a camping spot ANYWHERE on the planet on Sunday night over Labor Day weekend.

First we set out in Spanish Fork Canyon. I think we thought we would go to Diamond Fork. But on the way there, we were flagged down by some random men, and stupid girls that we were, we stopped. There were two men, and I'm pretty sure they were drunk, and the more that I think about it, the more that I am certain we should not have stopped. I can't remember what they asked us or why the stopped us, but I seem to remember that we thought they had a flat or some other emergency, and so we were trying to be good Samaritans and whatnot. We ended up leaving them at the side of the road really fast, probably because they seemed shady and we got scared. Anyway, at that point in time, we were well on our way to Diamond Fork when I just couldn't stay quiet. So I said, "I have a really creepy feeling ever since we ran into those guys." Everyone else agreed and we headed to another site and drove around and of course not one single camping site was open. Not a one. SURPRISE!!!

And did I mention how we brought some bread to eat? We didn't really think ahead about the food we would have so someone grabbed a bag of bread. I think we had some orange juice as well. So O.J. and bread. And then we drove to Spanish Fork's lovely Canyon View Park. And so we were literally about a mile or less from Dawn's parents' home, and we set out to camp on a little lawn/camp site. And I don't know why they get away with calling it a camp site when they have automated sprinklers...that went off in the middle of the night! This is no joke. Okay, to be fair, they probably had the sites set up for RVs and they weren't meant for "campers" like us who were going to spread our sleeping bags onto the grass and sleep out under the stars.

Oh but did I mention how when the sprinklers suddenly started up that Dawn and Camille were in the car and wouldn't let Jamie and me get in? I don't know when they got the bright idea to get into the car, but there we were, waiting for Dawn and Camille to let us and getting all wet and such. They finally found it in their hearts to let us in, and it was so cozy with four of us trying to sleep side by side, entirely cramped and uncomfortable, squished in the back of Dawn's station wagon. You guys, she drove an old station wagon, and I'm not lying when I say that it was awesome.

So then we got the bright idea to drive to my parents' house and just go and sleep in my old bedroom, but when we got there, at three in the morning, I realized my parents would probably freak out when we knocked on the door to come inside. And so we went back to camping site and spread ourselves out in the back of the car and at this point I doubt that there was so much sleeping going on, but whatever.

We woke up in the morning at around six a.m. and enjoyed some bread and some orange juice and laughed and then we swore ourselves to keep this little adventure a secret. But you know what? That is honestly one of my favorite memories and I love my friends. We laughed and laughed over our ridiculousness, and I'm so glad I have people like these gals in my life. They are amazing.

I Could Never

Now usually I refrain from saying "I could never" because, well, you guys, things happen when I do. I said that I could never live in Las Vegas and that I would never go to law school and that I would never go for a long stretch of time without a job and that I could never, ever make it into my thirties unmarried.

I'm dead serious about this. When my friend Lauren said she was moving back to Vegas, I said that it was great but that I could never live there. And then what happened? Oh right about six months later, I was her roommate in Vegas. And then I said that I would not go to law school, even though I thought I would be a lawyer when I was a teenager, because that would be horrid, going to law school. And guess what? I'm a lawyer now. I was in church one day and a woman was sharing this story about how her husband went without a job for two years before finally finding work. And I thought, ugh...glad I'll never go through that. And finally, at the ripe old age of eighteen, I found out my high school FBLA adviser, a wonderful Mrs. Boothe, was around thirty-one or thirty-two when she finally got married, and I thought to myself, good thing that won't be me!

So I'm learning not to say those words..."I could never." But today, and I am certain that this will never happen, but today I said that I could never be a doctor. Hospitals make me feel like passing out. Something about the smells of antiseptics and medication and people lying down in beds with those gowns on. Oh, there was that time I went to see my aunt, who had cancer, and the room got so hot, and I had to fight to stay on my feet. It wasn't seeing her so much as it was the sight of the IVs and all the smells that go along with medicating people and keeping the hospital clean and germ free. I just kept saying to myself, you must not pass out because this cannot be about you. The woman has cancer!!!

So but my mom, bless her heart, had to have surgery on Monday, and I went to the hospital last night and this afternoon to see her. I felt okay. I didn't get light headed or dizzy or weak kneed. But then she came home, and I could smell the hospital on her and I kept thinking about the surgery and oh bother, I started to feel a little woozy. I wasn't even in the hospital. By the way, I am so not making this up. So for once I think that I can safely say...I could never be a doctor, no not ever.

A Boy Named Sean

I've been thinking about something sooooo much lately. Teaching. I do not miss the bureaucracy, the gossip, the grading, the paper work. But I miss students. I miss the way they could make funny comments and then a bad day would turn into a good one. I miss the way they would pick up on a concept, and I could see the light suddenly turn on inside. It's a beautiful thing to see a student succeed. I miss the way that one or two of them would surprise me months and maybe years after I taught them - the way they would say thank you for helping them. I miss the planning sessions with fellow teachers and even by myself because I loved organizing my lessons and my calendar. I miss the creativity.

I've actually been thinking about teaching because of a boy named Sean. And I've been thinking about Sean because of Newt Gingrich. He's attempting to gain the republican presidential candidacy, in case you haven't heard while you were out living on the moon. I'm not a fan, especially after he suggested that kids who grow up in our "poorer" neighborhoods don't have any examples of how to work. Apparently the poor among us choose to be poor and don't care to work because they can get welfare. Are you seriously that blindly biased? Yes, indeed you are.

Because guess what? You don't know a boy named Sean. I taught Sean my first year out as a teacher. Sean wasn't the most fantastic student, and he wasn't the smartest student, although he was smart enough. But he was a good kid, a kind person, funny, lively. He had a lot of personality, and even when we didn't agree or even when I had to get after him for the millionth time, he always treated me well.

Sean was also on the football team, and his coach found him a job every summer so that he could work. The year that I taught him he was pretty excited about the summer landscaping job Coach Adams had helped him find. Sean's mother worked, probably two jobs, although I cannot say that for sure. They did not have a television. I doubt he had a computer. They were poor. They lived in a small apartment and money went to essentials and that was that.

I guess it's the Seans that I miss. I know he could have done better in my class, but he was a good person. He did have a work ethic. He did have a good example at home. I think if Mr. Gingrich knew Sean, he might have something different to say about kids who grow up in poor neighborhoods. Unfortunately I think this is one more example of the way that wealthy and powerful politicians are completely out of touch with real life for the poor and even the middle class in this country. Mr. Gingrich is so far removed from poverty that he's lost sight of what those who struggle to make a living are like.

Lazy is not a symptom of poverty. Some of the poorest among us work the hardest. And anyway, I would take a Sean any day over some of the spoiled students I taught...students who came from wealthy families...in Henderson, Nevada. I would take a Sean because that boy knew what it meant to care about other people.

What's a Long Time?

Some days, an hour feels like a long time, and then some days you turn around and suddenly the day is over and you don't know where it went to. And you know, the older I get, the faster the years sort of slip on by, and I can't believe that I'm thirty-six and I can't believe that I'm not a teenager running around with my friends and I can't believe I'm not writing a paper for and English class or cramming for a final at BYU. I can't believe I'm not packing up my car and moving far away for the first time, or I can't believe I'm not taking the metro into work at Finnegan Henderson.

And then I think if this has all gone by so fast, then how fast will the next thirty-six years fly by me.

I've been thinking about time and how long is a long time, anyway? Is one month or one year a long time? Is five years a long time? Is ten years or twenty? Or thirty? I'm beginning to wonder. This is because I feel like I've been waiting to get married for a long time. Ten or fifteen years now. I thought I'd be married in my early twenties, and then I thought it would happen by my mid twenties. I was thinking just a few days ago that it isn't going to happen, and that I'm the only one, I mean the only person ever, to have to wait for so long for something. I mean, I know people who have had to wait for things and who have struggled, but this seems like a looooooong time, you know?

And then we talked about Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, in Sunday School. So do the math and think about it. She was a "ripe old age" when she found out she was going to have John. She'd been waiting and waiting, and her husband was praying for her in the temple, as he had done for so long, that God would take away her reproach. So this is my summation of what I learned.

1. She had to have waited a really long time...perhaps thirty to forty years or more. If she was married somewhere in her teens and "ripe old age" meant something in her forties or fifties? She waited a long time.

2. Her husband continued to pray. He did not give up even if the time had passed. Even if certain facts of life would tell them that it was time to let it go. He continued to exercise faith that things could change.

3. Many many people have waited. Sarah and Rachel also waited for children for a long time. And Alma waited for his son to turn around. Over and over they prayed and still waited.

4. Miracles are not contingent upon just faith alone. The bible dictionary explains that miracles come through Christ's love. Faith precedes the miracle, but there is more than just faith involved. There is hope and there is meekness and there is charity, and those things, too, bring miracles. Most especially, I believe, the love of Jesus Christ is key and that, too, can bring the miracle.

And so yes, ten to fifteen years. Is it a long time? Is it too long to wait? Is there a reason for me to say let it go? Or is there another, better way? Fifteen years may not be so long and I am not the only one to wait and wait and wait, and I'm sure I'm not the first person who has thought to give up and let it go. And so I will continue to pray for marriage and the miracle, and I'll stop (or I will try really really hard to stop) worrying about "too late."

Feeling Ho-Hum!

Oh I started this blog with such high hopes for brilliant daily posts, and I have to admit that I've sort of lost my way with it because lately my thoughts are not brilliant or bright or even slightly shiny, and I just write something to write it and get it over with. Unless it is a book review. And there are a few posts that I'm pretty proud of because they are insightful and well written. Like the one about being my brother's keeper.

But most days, again most days...lately, I feel really uninspired, and I question carrying on with it because even I don't care what I'm writing about. I'm just writing anything at all to get the task over with.

And tonight I've been staring at a blank screen for over two hours trying to think about what I would write. I've surfed other blogs, even, trying to get some idea of what I should say. I feel like nothing ever happens in my life and so I do not know what to write or say, and besides, I am really the ONLY person who reads this. And then I feel like there are things I want to say but they are too personal, and I really don't want to share them here. Things deep down inside that I am feeling lately about the direction of my life because while I've said stuff about it, I haven't really said stuff about it. Not the things I think in the darkest of moments, and today I've been having one of those darkest of moments days, and it really is days like this that I do NOT want to write for feel I'll share things I do not want to share.

But on the other hand, I am getting close to two months left and then it will be a full year, and then it will be over. At least the every day part will be over, and then I think I will change it into a blog just about books and writing, and I'll stop forcing myself to blog daily. I'll just use it to post book critiques and maybe the occasional post about writing.

Anyway...I do want to say enough is enough because clearly I've created a habit out of this. I don't know. Maybe my grumpy mood hasn't quite abandoned me yet, and I'm feeling a little ho-hum about life, you guys. And do you ever feel a little ho-hum about life?

Sherlock Holmes and a Case of the Grumps

Don't you love Robert Downey, Jr. I just adore him. I think I first loved him in Only You..."Itly...What's my wife doin' in Itly???" Probably the cheesiest movie ever put to film. Well, maybe not the cheesiest, but, well. It's up there. Such good memories, what with watching freshman year at the Movies 8 with the roomies. I think we all sort of fell for Mr. Downey, Jr.

And then he hit that rough patch and who knows what was up with him, but he had a miraculous comeback, schew! So glad about it.

And today was one of those days. I'm fully willing to admit that I have issues with being sad. I wonder at the people who take all things in stride and can maintain an even emotional keel at almost all times. I have serious envy of such folks. I am not one of those folks. But anyway, I can admit to the sadness issues, but one thing I am not...grumpy. Not since my younger days, mostly in high school.

Oh but today I have been having a serious case of the grumps. And so I went to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie and sat in the dark and just enjoyed some entertainment and Robert and Jude and a little bit of Rachel (she wasn't around much this go round) and tried ever so hard to forget about my bad mood. And can I tell you that I love they way they do the action sequences in these movies? The slow motion, speeding up and slowing back down? It's different. I'm not a filmographer. I don't know much about the art, but I am almost certain that someone would probably point out that other, better film makers had done the same thing before Guy Ritchie came along, but I am not one of those people and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I actually think I might have to see it in the theater again, I liked it so much.

So that's what to do on a bad, grumpy, no good day. Go watch a movie and shut out the world.

How to Save a Life

I actually purchased this because I wanted something to read...something quick. And I don't have a library card. So anyway, I thought I might totally regret buying it, but I did not because it was so good. I can't wait to loan it out to friends and hear what they think.

How to Save a Life by Sara Zarr

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This was unexpectedly good, really really good. I have to admit that the premise of the story had me prepared for something closer to an original Lifetime Television for Women movie. The ones that I would rush home on a Sunday evening to watch. Yes, I shamelessly admit to a certain obsession with Lifetime and their original movies. And a roommate, who shall remain nameless, just happened to enjoy them with me. They were terrible and wonderful all at the same time.

But this, oh this was nothing at all like an original Lifetime Television for Women movie. This was just wonderful and not terrible. Nope, not terrible at all.

So the premise, which as I've said had me wondering and thinking that this read was a risky one, goes thusly. Teenager, Mandy, finds herself pregnant and unready for motherhood, especially not in her current situation. So she decides to find someone with whom to share an open adoption. And she finds Robin and her daughter Jill, both recently grieving over the loss of Mac, husband/father, respectively. Oh, and just as an FYI...the story shifts between two voices, Mandy and then Jill.

So you can see why I might believe that this could get ugly and sappy real real quick.

But as I've long preached, it's all in the characterization, and Mandy is tops. I fell in love with the poor girl. Something about her sad sad situation resonated with me. She told her story with a surprising amount of vulnerability and honesty. It was her vulnerability that really gutted me. She felt so believable that I cried and hated her mother and wanted to hug her and adopt her into my family all at the same time. All I can say is WOW Sarah Zarr, wow! I was kind of sure that she was going to be cheesy, and I was sure I was going to be rolling my eyes. But Mandy was too good for me to do anything but adore her.

Jill was pretty great, too. There were a few moments that I wanted to smack her, but she redeemed herself, and most of us were teenagers at one time, were we not? So then, we probably had people thinking thusly about us..."I want to smack the sass right out her/him." I suppose I can forgive her teenageryness. That and again, there could have been serious drama over the death of her father. There was drama, but her grieving/dealing was believable drama. Not trying too hard/emotive drama. There is a huge difference. Jill was also very believable and likable.

So now I have another YA author that has me pretty jazzed about the genre. I'm not sure yet whether Zarr is up there with Melina Marchetta or E. Lockhart. I'll have to check out a few more of her books before I can decide that. But I loved this, and so I highly recommend.


View all my reviews

Alone

Three years of living on my own was really heavenly, I won't lie. I loved my little apartment. I can still see myself the first time I saw it. It was a Monday, August 13, 2007. I mostly remember that date because it had been such a hectic and emotional weekend, what with flying out by myself, getting to Brooklyn, getting up super early on Sunday so that I could find my church building in Newark (and remember, I had noooo clue where I was when I got to Newark because I'd only ever been to the law school and a few of the surrounding blocks nearby), arranging for my moving pod (including finding help unloading it)...oh my goodness, it was stressful. I was stressed. But when I walked into that apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief. I signed a contract sight unseen, and I hoped for the best, and oh, it was clean and big and bright.

I loved how it was quiet...most of the time. A few loud parties, a few neighbors fighting. But that was rare, like fewer than half a dozen times that my neighbors kept me awake at night, so I cannot complain. It was adorable. I loved my green and red color scheme. I loved my comfy white couch, the Ikea shelving and my desk nook. I loved my spacious kitchen. I really loved the way it felt lofty and the widows were so so tall. I loved that the bathroom was not only clean but big. I loved that I could come home and be alone and decompress.

But this week, my parents are out of town, and I'm home with just my nephew and he's gone a lot because he's nineteen and what nineteen year old hangs out at home too much. So I'm here by myself quite a bit, and I'm not going to lie to you. I've gotten used to people being around, and while I enjoy some alone time...like I did in Texas...I am not sure I like the amount of alone time I've had this week.

Company, I am finding, is good, and maybe I want more of it in my life than I thought.

OCD???

I believe that almost every person has their own mental peccadilloes. Little, small, tiny flaws in the way we think. So I've told you how I absolutely cannot watch Hoarders because I find it tremendously depressing, right? All that garbage piled up and taking over your life...YUCK. I'm the anti-hoarder, and I have no problem chucking things out. Sometimes to the point where I do actually regret being so hasty about my "cleaning the closet" sprees. So that is me MOST of the time. And then today I was putting on my makeup, and holy cow, my makeup bag is a MESS! I might be a makeup hoarder because I have a hard time throwing any makeup away. If I think, for example, that I can get one or two more uses out of that stub of an eyeliner, I will keep it. I have old eye shadows that I haven't used in over a year, but I keep them. I have a blush product that is pretty much gone, but I might want it later, so I keep it, just in case.

I guess I am a hoarder in my own way. I probably do the same thing with office/school supplies. I stockpile paperclips and highlighters, pens and pencils, notebooks, binders, erasers.

And then there is my compulsion with food. I imagine that it is a type of OCD. So I decide I'm going on a diet, and it will start tomorrow or Monday or January 1. Whatever the date, I find myself obsessing about food and what I will eat up until the diet starts because, somehow, I imagine that after I start my healthy habits, I will NEVER EVER touch another ounce of junk food. I act as if those thing will never be allowed into my life again, so I have to get my fill now since I'm never going to eat it again. But I know that isn't true, right? I am going to have a shake or a cookie or some cake at some point in time. Almost no food is completely out forever and ever. Then I think if I could have a healthy frame of mind about this...if it wasn't sugar feast or sugar famine in my mind...then I could probably get a hold on both my weight and my relationship with those kinds of foods.

I think it stems from believing that sugar is the food of the devil. You know, I don't see other unhealthy foods that way. Take the simple chip. A potato chip, if you will, or a tortilla chip or whatever type you like. I like potato chips. But I never see them as forbidden because I eat them so rarely. I want them sometimes, and so I eat them sometimes. But if I have them on Friday with my sandwich, I don't feel like I have to have more and more and more. It probably will be a few more weeks and sometimes even months before I chow down on chips again.

Why, then, can't I control the need to down an entire bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups?

Then there is my need to clean/organize everything. My email in box, for example, had about four hundred messages in it, and so I HAD to go through it and clean it out, finally, and then I sighed and smiled and said to myself, "That's so much better." It was an actual mental relief for me to get rid of all the unwanted messages. And then there was the day I cleaned the bathroom a few weeks ago, and wow, once I got started...well, I was washing down doors and walls. I try to scrub and rescrub the shower doors but they are etched, and I know I can't get them completely perfect and it BUGS me to no end. But you can't reverse the etching, and oh, how I want the doors to be perfectly shiny, without spot. It isn't going to happen.

So there it is. I have my own little OCD/mental issues.

Love/Hate

I both love and hate FB. There are days I think..."I should just quit you facebook!" Mostly because of the countless hours that I want back! But it seems like the only way that people stay in touch now. Email...mostly just junk now. I get texts and phone calls, but much of my social life runs through FB. So I probably won't be quitting FB any time too soon.

Today, however, I read something funny and it became my inspiration for tonight's post. Here it is...a list of things I love and hate about FB.

LOVES:
1. Old friends find me. Or I find them. I love that.
2. Snippets from The Daily Show/The Colbert Report. I get to see the funniest bits without watching the entire show.
3. I find out about friends' pregnancies, marriages, graduations, etc.
4. My family members post pictures of my nieces and nephews.
5. My friends have a book club page just for us, and we can plan events together.
6. People share funny stuff...good music videos...great bargains. I sort of like hearing about that sort of stuff.

HATES:
A disclaimer. This is all about the update. Almost all of the things I do not like about FB have to do with the way people update their statuses. Any one of these particular offenses wouldn't be so offensive but people do one of them...or some of them...all the time. Gets kind of old.
1. Status updates that are really just fishing expeditions. "Didn't see that coming!" or..."I try and try and it's still the same. People never change." And then everyone says, "Oh, what happened? Are you okay? I'm here for you!!!" Ugh...just say what you want to say. Fishing expeditions say needy for attention. Period. Never ever ever do it! If you need to talk to someone, pick up the phone and vent. Otherwise, say it like it is.
2. On the other hand, I really detest the over share. It is entirely inappropriate to spill your guts about your personal troubles and tragedies. Detailing the fight your family had last night, including naming names and quoting your relatives, makes everyone who doesn't really know you uncomfortable. Even your closest friends probably should not be privy to certain information about your private life...or at least they shouldn't hear about it over facebook. We still have phones... and it might be a good idea to use them when sharing something private. Telling people you got a divorce...that is one thing. Calling your ex horrid names and explaining the reason for your split...probably not a good idea. And awkward for all of your ex-in-laws who are still your friends and still see your feed.
3. These new cheeseball "words of wisdom" posters are really starting to tick me off. I really don't need to hear about how forgiveness will lighten my burden and open my heart to love. Maybe it's true; maybe not...I really don't care either way. They are cliches and I'm not a fan and they don't enlighten me.
4. Are you seriously using FB as your personal political platform...airing every single opinion you have about every single word that comes out of any politician's mouth? Must you rant every time a political pundit opens his or her mouth? I think we all hear enough about politics...especially with an upcoming election. I'm over it! An opinion here or there? Fine, be my guest. If you are doing this twice, three times, twenty times a day...get a life!

The end.

More Random Ramblings

1. I am grateful for not starving. No really, I am very grateful for it. I've been thinking and thinking about Nectar in a Sieve. The family went through long periods of starvation, and they lost a child because of it. I know, I know...it is fiction. But it is not far from reality for so so so many people, in fact too many people. When I think about the industrial revolution and the advances we've made in both technology and farming, I feel really lucky to have been born in both a time and a place where going hungry is uncommon. In fact, perhaps the excess of food we have around here is something to be a bit embarrassed by because so many people have struggled and continue to struggle just to have enough to eat. That's really want it is. An embarrassment of riches.

2. Speaking of excess, the luxury I live in is not lost on me. I live in a large, beautiful home with running water that gets hot for me when I want to take a shower. Then, when I want to wash my clothing (another thing I have in excess), I go to a washing machine and throw my things in and they come out clean, but i didn't have to scrub anything. And when I want a warm meal, I can use any one of a number of devices to make a nice warm meal...the oven, the stove, the microwave. Oh and to sleep on mattresses and pillows with comfortable quilts and blankets and to kick back on the leather sofa and watch some movie or t.v. I seriously could go on and on about. I actually think my ancestors are probably shocked by the ease in which I live.

3. Well, as long as I am being grateful, I am grateful for my friend Dawn who let me borrow her car while she is gone for work. It allowed me to sleep in this morning. Otherwise, I would have had to get up early to drive my parents to the airport. This way, they could drive themselves, and then they have a car when they get back from Texas, and no one has to pick them up from the airport. Besides that, she filled it with gas before she left, which was ADORABLY sweet! What a good friend she is.

4. I am also really happy about and grateful for my last shopping trip. I love my new tops. It's surprising to me how much better I feel when I look put together. This not having a job thing has led to a few bad-ish habits, like spending a lot of time in pajamas. I noticed that last week, when I went to lunch with my sister, how I felt more confident and attractive. Today I wore a new top to church, and I really did feel pretty. I admit that it has been a long time since I've felt that way. Regardless of how I feel about my body, it does make a difference to put on my make-up and dress in nice clothing.

5. I'm okay if I don't have a job, and I'm okay if I don't know what I want to do with my life. This is the first time I think I can say that and really mean it. I've been calm all along...with moments of freaking out, but I've never felt okay okay about it, you know? Always it nagged me in the back of my mind that I wasn't working, and the student loans and the no car and the living with my family members. And then this week, as I've really had a good think think think about the man that I gave money to and how I felt after wards, I realized that I am okay. I still live in ease. I still have every one of my needs met and even some of my wants. Mostly, I think it comes from knowing that I am not lost to God. For that, more than anything else, I am grateful.

Nectar in a Sieve

So maybe, just maybe I will get through fifty-four books by the end of the year. I hope that a few more of them...whatever I end up reading...are as good as Nectar in a Sieve.

Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Beautiful and touching, Nectar in a Sieve follows a young Rukmani who is married to Nathan, a tenant farmer, when she is only twelve. The marriage, of course, is arranged. The story focuses on the growth of her family and the struggles a tenant farmer and his family must face in a developing India.

I had one minor issue with this book...that is that there wasn't more.

The story should be depressing because the family has to scrape by to survive. And I mean really scrape by...with very little extra ever coming their way. They lose children to death and circumstance. They live through monsoon and drought while they work the land for thirty years. But because the book is only around 180 pages, I felt like I did not get to know the characters as well as I would have liked. Their only daughter, for example, has a sad but fascinating story of her own, and I would have liked to see more of it. Several of her sons move away...far away and we don't hear anything more about them. Of course, neither did Rukmani, which was perhaps common for a woman in her situation, but I wanted to know how their lives turned out.

In any case, a story that should have been depressing was touching. They never really had a break, but I felt like they were happy in their own way. They learned to accept their hardships and never lost sight of their humanity in spite of those hardships. Mostly, they took joy in loving and forgiving each other.

The prose is beautiful. And that is probably what made this novel for me. Some writers are gifted with language in a way that sings to you. I wish I had half Markandaya's skill with words. And perhaps that is another reason I wanted more. I wanted to listen to her voice for just a little bit longer. As it is, this is going to stay with me for a long time.

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Makes Me Want to Vomit...

Do you want to know what is super annoying??? The Kay jewelry commercials. And here is why. They are tremendously sexist and condescending. For example, a storm is brewing outside. And it's super windy and the rain is coming down hard, and then of course, there are the thunder and lightening. Don't most of us just love storms like that? As long as we aren't three years old, of course. I remember one particular stormy night in Virginia when the wind was howling and the crash of thunder was so close to my window that it sounded as though someone was shaking an aluminum sheet next to the house. The room would light up, and I opened up the shades so I could watch the goings on.

And then the commercial comes along, and a helpless woman runs to the arms of her all powerful and so protective husband who will save her from that frightening storm. Can I name all the things that are wrong with this? First, how does a mere mortal protect another mere mortal from lightening strikes, really? Is he Thor? No...he's a mortal. Second, why does a grown woman feel fear when lightening strikes and winds rage? Every adult woman I know thinks a good storm is pretty awesome to watch. And finally, what does jewelry have to do with this little scenario? Nothing, that is what.

You want to know what I think? I think a six year old girl whose been watching too much Sleeping Beauty wrote this commercial. That or a delusional man. But the problem is that almost all of these "romantic" commercials include a man who is telling his wife/girlfriend how brave and strong he is and how she will be safe with him. Maybe this sounds like a bitter feminist rant from a woman who wants what these commercial portray.

That's not the case. I just want the women to have a backbone. That and I don't buy it. It isn't romantic. Women aren't weaklings waiting for men to save them. It's lame and condescending to watch a grown woman act like a little girl running to the arms of her daddy. And it makes me NOT want to purchase anything from Kay. No...the commercials do not inspire romance but rather nausea.

Sisters...

My sister and I have not always been bffs. Especially when we were little girls because I thought she hated me. I was annoying, I am certain, because I was her little sister, three years her junior, and well, I guess that is what little sisters are. I was messy, and that was a struggle. I think she really hated that my side of the closet was a certified disaster area. We fought about it. We had to share a bed, and I was not a still, quiet sleeper, so she got tired of my tossing and turning, and at times that caused serious drama. She even hit me once over it. Can you imagine? And I got in trouble.

But she had her moments of liking me alright, I guess anyway, because there is photographic evidence of her hugging and comforting me as I cried over some such thing.

And then we grew into teens, or she did, and I followed, and that was rough, too, because I wanted to wear her clothes and be like her, and she wanted me to stop copying her every move. Soon enough, though, I was both taller and bigger, so much of her wardrobe was forbidden unto me!!! It was quite devastating to be the taller, chubbier daughter when I was three years younger and such. And my sister was the pretty one. The adorable one. The every boy loved her one.

But then she would let me borrow a shirt or listen when I cried over my "growing pains." So I guess I wasn't horrid. And when she got married, everything changed. Maybe sisterly rivalry is a real thing, but when you are no longer living in the same space and one of you is married and having babies...well, stuff changes, that's all.

But we are all grown-up now. She took me to lunch for my birthday today. We went to Rumbi's, I bought some Mary Kay from her, and we talked about her kids and jobs, and all that normal life stuff. And I realized that my sister is my friend. I suppose I've known that for a long time, now, but it never really hit me the way it did today. It makes me glad to know that we are.

Lost

Or my life...not the show.

I think I thought I was lost. For the past year and a half, that is.

And now I am thinking I was not ever lost, and I am thinking that this was just part of the trip. I told you a month ago about the man I gave a couple dollars to because he was out in the cold on a dreary November day. I think about him and I wonder where he is and if he is warm and if he has food to eat.

Now you might think that I am now thinking that man is the definition of lost. But I do not think so. In fact, I don't think any one of us is lost at all.

(And by the way, haven't I been doing much thinking lately?)

It's just life, after all. But when people said that to me before, I would think what in the world do you mean, it's just life. I probably take life too seriously, and that is why I got confused. How can you say it's just life when people are suffering or hungry or homeless and cold and alone? How can you say it when people are losing jobs or can't even get jobs or have illnesses and die? What do you mean...it's just life? Because it seems unto me that this is serious stuff.

I suppose it is, but still, it's just life.

Whatever I am here and whatever problems I have now are small. I imagine the great big universe...or wait, I just go outside at night and look up at the stars and think about how many beautiful lights I see up there in the sky. I cannot number them. And one day I will not be here anymore, and some other poor schmuck will have her turn, and she will look up at the sky, and she will think that her problems are so big, and I will be there, watching her somehow. Then I will whisper to her on the wind that no, her problems are not so big. In the grand scheme of life and everything that will come later, when her body is no longer bound to the earth, then she will see life for the small thing that it is.

I know this. My life as I know it here will come to an end. I believe with all my heart that my spirit will go somewhere else, and I will have a new, clearer understanding of what my life was about. I won't be worried anymore about whatever it is I worried about...marriage, children, friends, church, jobs, houses, cars, clothes, food, weight, height, eye color, race, politics, the economy, and Coca-cola. You know, the serious stuff. I think then that I will be filled with love and light. I hope that I will see myself as God sees me - completely free and unfettered from any worldly trappings or labels or cravings.

Mostly I hope I will know that I was not lost, ever. I hope I will see the beautiful things that filled my life, like friends and family and love. I hope I will see a period of pain and doubt as a small little blip on the radar that gave me insight and compassion for other people. The truth is, none of us is lost to God. That is why I know I'm not lost.

It's Christmas, a time to celebrate Jesus Christ. And Jesus Christ left the ninety and nine to search for the one. To Him, I am always present. To the Father, I am never anywhere that He does not know. The same is true for all of us, and while I cannot comprehend how that is possible, I know it is how the God of heaven and earth works. He never loses sight of us.

Shopping!!!

I haven't had a good shop for, oh just ages and ages. I mean one where I blow threw my cash-o-la without a care in the world...not a care for the cash I am spending because I am not worried at all about that.

So basically, I haven't had a good shopping trip since I was teaching.

Today wasn't one of those shopping trips. I don't know if I'll ever go back to shopping that way again, really, because while I could afford it, I shouldn't have been doing it. It was irresponsible. Mostly it was irresponsible because I was always paying full price for clothing that was sub-par. And I'm just going to say two words to prove my point. Banana Republic. Buy their stuff on sale, if you must, but I can't say that anything I purchased from them for full price was worth it. Except maybe for two pairs of trousers. But mostly I've had troubles with their clothing.

Today, I got to spend my birthday money, though. I was going to wait a while and maybe buy practical items. Maybe. Maybe a bunch of new shirts and a really cute belt are practical. I'd like to think so, anyway. The nice thing? I got most of it on sale, and I didn't go after items that were too expensive. Fifty-percent off at Shade? Thanks, yes, I'll take it! Cute little boutique with moderately priced, trendy items. Thanks, yes, I'll take it!

So even if I didn't break the bank, I had fun. And I'm super excited about the new items to spruce up my wardrobe. Heaven knows that my wardrobe has needed some sprucing!

Finally...The Lost Hero

So I finally finished a book today. I have to read two to three more this week. I see a long run with an audio book in my future!

I've been curious about Rick Riordan and the Percy Jackson series for a while now, and I actually considered buying the first book a few years ago. I admit that I am glad I didn't. I liked The Lost Hero enough that I might consider reading more Riordan books, but I didn't love it, and so I would not go out and buy it.

And finally...a recent review!

The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Piper, Leo and Jason are demigods, the daughter and sons of Aphrodite, Hephaestus and Zeus, respectively. When they find themselves and a camp for other sons and daughters of the gods, they discover that Hera has called them there for a reason. They have a quest to complete, and they must complete it together in order to save Hera and the world as they know it. Throw in a flying mechanical dragon, a satyr, some more minor gods, wild weather, and encounters with cyclops, giants, Midas and Medea, and there you have it. A nice little adventure for the juvenile set.

I might be missing something. I'm not sure because I didn't read the Percy Jackson series first. I found this book in my parent's house and figured why not? In any case, I'm seeing a lot of really good reviews, and I am not sure I understand why.

I liked it (I did finish it, after all), but I didn't find it compelling. There are things that I really like about the story, but there are things I really didn't love, so three stars seemed like a good compromise.

This is what doesn't sit right with me. I'm really not into the writing style itself. It's simple and a little unpolished. I got tired of reading "But yeah..." over and over. Halfway through the book, though, something dawned on me. it is juvenile literature, and maybe I should imagine myself reading it to my nine-year-old nieces and nephews. It helped me to recognize the audience Riordan is writing for, and so it didn't grate on me as much. But that doesn't mean that it couldn't have been better. Still, I've read a few juvenile lit books over the past year or so, and I think that it's often the writing style that turns me off to these books.

On to the story itself. It had it's moments. I like the idea of demigods on quests to save the world from the evils that lurk beneath...or above...the earth. But then, I also like complexity and development. I most especially don't like it when things feel slap dash, put together because it's convenient. As usual, my beef is that the characters weren't developed enough. When characters are developed, their actions don't feel convenient but instead feel like what the person would do based on what we know about them.

The moments of conflict lacked complexity. They were over a bit too quickly and easily. I wanted to be actually worried for the characters' safety. Don't you find that when you fret and worry about a character you like them more? I wasn't fretting or worrying. Everything was always set up a little to perfectly so that I knew they would be fine. Defeating the cyclops or the giants or Midas or Medea was all to simple. Oh...and I wanted less exposition. There was a lot of back story...explaining things that happened in the past. It's the same thing I thought of Clockwork Angel. Don't tell me. Show me.

All that said, I know that this sounds like a one or two star review. However, after I started thinking about reading it to a kid, it grew on me. I am certain that I would have loved this story when I was a child. I would have had a crush on Jason, and I would have wished I was Piper. And I did like it enough that I might actually read the second novel in the series...or even try out the Percy Jackson series. Just probably not right away.


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Um...I Have an Eye Patch

Or should I say AARRRGH?!!!

So here is a lesson and a warning and aren't you glad you have me here to give you such snippets of wisdom to live by? I was taking off my makeup last night, using a cotton ball with a little Mary Kay remover to get the tough stuff off...because you know how mascara can be. I think my eye must have been just slightly open when I swiped the cotton ball across the lid because it felt like something was in my eye, and it was stinging, I tell you. STINGING! It watered and such, but I looked and looked and looked some more, with no luck. There was just nothing to be found. I thought to myself, "Welp...whatever it is, it will find it's way out in just a little while."

But every time I blinked my eye, it hurt. So then I thought maybe it wouldn't come out, but it was bedtime so whatever, right? I'll just close my eyes and in the morning it will be fine.

But no. It was not fine, and I hardly slept a wink. I tried, I did, but the most I got were some really strange dreams. And then I would wake up because my eye was bothering me. On the cycle went, all through the night. So when I came downstairs this morning, my mom took a good look and couldn't see a thing, and that led to a good flushing of the eye, some eye goo medicine (look, I don't know what the stuff is, but we put it on my eye anyway), and then came the patch.

I am wearing a patch.

I look ridiculous and now everyone is making pirate jokes, of course, because what else are you going to do when someone has a patch over her eye? You are going to make the joke.

But the thing is, it is ever so annoying to have one of your lovely eyes out of commission, and yes, I stayed home from church. I am vain...vain enough that I am NOT going out in public with a patch on my face.

So next time you are taking your makeup off, tread lightly my friends. Tread lightly.

Still No Book...

Ack! I didn't finish the book as I had planned to do today. I've been lax on a lot of things, but next week, this gets serious because I have four weeks to finish ten books! Oh my goodness, I want to finish this goal. In the mean time, I was rereading my review for Mockingjay. I absolutely loved the first two books, and I still think the stories are brilliant.

But I stand by my original review of Mockingjay. I liked it enough, and I gave it three stars. But I was disappointed because it fell flat.

War is a brutal, horrible thing. I actually think of all the absurd things that human beings do, war might be the embodiment...the quintessence...of all that is absurd. We disagree with one another, can't come to any other agreement, so we start killing each other? I know it's much more complicated than that, of course, but absurdity of the human condition that would lead to war...it makes my head nearly explode. I just cannot comprehend any circumstance that makes people bomb their neighbors.

So yes, war is absurd and brutal, and yet somehow heroes emerge out of the chaos. I think they emerge from their humanity...those soldiers who go in reluctantly and yet who find a way to fight ethically and to lead others. You hear about those soldiers who risk everything to save their fellow fighters and who treat their enemy with dignity. Real life is proof that something good can come out of something so horrible as war.

When I read Mockingjay I really wanted Katniss to be that character. I can't say that I loved her from the first two books, but I liked her a lot. Her actions indicated that she had not only spunk and spirit, they also demonstrated compassion and a respect for others that she loved. I thought that was the same for Peeta and Gale. They both personally sacrificed for the people they loved, too.

Now comes what I've really been thinking about. When it comes to stories, all stories are just recycled versions of old tales. For example? Every hero tale harks back to The Odyssey in some way. Almost any story I've ever read has some retelling aspect. But yet we read those stories over and over, and I wonder why that is. In particular I've been thinking about this as I write my own books. How is it that we can recycle these story archetypes and yet we still want to read?

I think it is because of characters. Good characters make good stories. I'm thinking of characters like Frodo from Lord of the Rings or Jane from Jane Eyre. And to me, characters have to be consistent, or at least their inconsistencies must be accounted for. I suppose if a character is supposed to be real, they will have inconsistencies. But they should be minor, in any case. In other words, Katniss, a once strong, smart, capable leader turns into a complete weakling. It isn't just that she can't seem to pull it together at all but instead runs and hides in a closet. She cannot do anything. It's a far greater inconsistency than I can actually believe. And I believe the same goes for Peeta and Gale.

Now I'm going to go there and make the dreaded Harry Potter comparison, but stick with me just for a minute. When Harry goes out to face Voldemort for what Harry believes will be the last time because Harry believes he will die, I fell in love with his heart. How did Rowling do that? Harry knew what he was doing, and he had to talk himself into it. He goes out, and he needs reinforcements. He cannot do it alone, so his mother, father, Sirius and Lupin are there. But even his reluctance and his need for help do not take away from his commitment to make the sacrifice. And there is nothing romantic about it, no opining about this choice being a far, far better thing. I wept like a baby when I read that passage. Brilliant.

The Hunger Games series is not Harry Potter. I don't want it to be. I don't want any other book to attempt to be that, either. I respect Suzanne Collins for her creativity and originality, and I do not think she was trying to that. But if not HP, then what, exactly, did I want? I hoped for a Harry or a Frodo or a Jane. I hoped for a character with weakness who stood up and got the job done anyway. Katniss didn't really do that, and so that is why Mockingjay disappointed.

Random Happenings

So here is a list of random stuff...

1. My stomach just won't get itself feeling quite right. I thought I was all better on Tuesday. But today, lots of churning. I sort of wish that if I'm going to be sick, I'd just get sick and throw up already so it would get out of my system. Ugh!

2. I ran five miles today. Even though my stomach was questionable this afternoon. Actually, I haven't run that far in several months, so I'm pretty happy and a little surprised that I didn't yack everywhere while on my route.

3. So I've heard all these things lately about gluten free diets, and so I was thinking that I would try it...in the new year. I looked it up, and, well, while I might want to cut back on carbs, I don't really think it's the way to go. I am pretty sure I don't have celiac disease, so...how is it that I got the impression that it was all about cutting out sugar? It's about cutting out wheat products, which might be fine if you have celiacs, of course, but whole wheat bread? Not sure I can give that up. Mostly I'm pretty sure that what I need to do is cut out sugar.

4. I am actually reading a book this week! The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan. Can you believe it. I've got some things to say about it, but I'll hold off until my review. Should be coming soon since it's a quick and easy read.

5. I love Coldplay. And this week, I really love them because they put their album on sale, and so I got it, and I honestly think it's their best yet! I've been listening to it while I run, and let me tell you, the first half...well, just WOW! Great running beats. I LOVE CHRIS MARTIN!!!

Alright, there you have it, five random thoughts. The end. (I've been saying that a lot these days.)

Speaking of Firsts

It's my birthday...I did not think of that yesterday when I was writing about firsts, but yay! I love firsts and I was born on December the first. I must say that I have always loved the idea of being born in December. Such a great month and the perfect time to be born because of all the holidays. Thanksgiving to Christmas is probably my favorite time of the year. I love turkey day and giving thanks. I love the decorations going up and then Christmas music and all the holiday cheer. I love pumpkin pies and hams and treats. I most especially love hearing the Merry Christmases and seeing folks finding delightsome presents for friends and family.

I also love the anticipation (and you know how I feel about anticipating stuff) of a new year, a fresh start. I know our calendar is only a human way of marking time, but January first (hah...another first) feels fresh and clean, like anything is possible. And right now that sounds like just what I need, a clean start, entirely new. I already have a list of goals forming in my mind, and I'm excited to perhaps add a new tradition...instead of just making goals (as in improving my life by ending bad habits or starting new, better habits), I want to make a list of things I want to learn or new hobbies I want to take up. If a new year is a time of excitement and anticipation, then why not have something fun to look forward to?

Oh and also..Happy Birthday to me! I ordered a new pair of running shoes...to be delivered soon! Can't wait to try them out on a long(ish) run...yay!