COMING ATTRACTION

Arriving soon at We're All Strangers Here: the New Moon drinking game.

What else would I write a blog about?

Books read in September
55. The Plato Papers - Peter Ackroyd, novel 20C British
56. The Rose and the Beast - Francesca Lia Block, short stories 21 C American
57. Darkly Dreaming Dexter - Jeff Lindsay, novel 21C American
58. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad, novel 20C British
59. Beowulf - Anonymous, epic poem 6-8C British
60. Dreaming in Cuban - Cristina Garcia, novel 20C Cuban
61. The House on Mango Street - Sandra Cisneros, novel 20C American
62. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight - anonymous, early Anglo-Saxon

Books read in October

63. Whip It - Shauna Cross, novel 21C American
64. Embroideries - Marjane Satrapi, graphic novel 21C Iranian
65. Pop Salvation - Lance Reynald, novel 21C American
66. Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys, novel 20C Dominican
67. Undiscovered Gyrl - Allison Burnett, novel 21C American
68. Everyman - anonymous, play 15C British
69. Eating Animals - Jonathan Safran Foer, non-fiction 21C American

Books read (so far) in November

70. Prozac Nation - Elizabeth Wurtzel, non-fiction 20C American
71. Poems Retrieved - Frank O'Hara, poetry 20C American
72. Endgame - Samuel Beckett, drama 20C British

The numbers indicate my year-t0-date total of books read. I'm still working on Dexter, Eating Animals, and Prozac Nation. I'm very impressed with what I've read of Eating Animals so far. It's well researched, yet doesn't read like a research paper. Foer is one of my favorite authors and he hasn't let me down yet. If I wasn't already a vegetarian, I might become one after reading just the first 50 pages of this book. Dexter isn't too exciting because it basically follows the first season of the TV show to a T, so no surprises await me. I just started Prozac Nation, so not much to say about it yet.

In September, I read mostly for school. Beowulf was easier to read than I expected. Heart of Darkness was incredibly dense. Dreaming in Cuban was a fantastic look at three generations of a Cuban family and the different routes their lives took.

October was mostly frivolous reading. I enjoyed Embroideries immensely; it's definitely a book that can be read in one sitting and is extremely reminiscent of Satrapi's style in Persepolis. I also found myself incredibly surprised by Undiscovered Gyrl. The title itself threw me off, but I started it anyways and was actually shocked by it. It's an incredibly poignant look at a turbulent year in the life of a young woman who has decided to postpone college. The ending honestly blew me away. It's an easy read, but much deeper than it may appear to be. I read 90% of Pop Salvation while pooping because it just didn't deserve much attention.

why i never fall

The way you’d touch my hair
when you thought I wouldn’t notice.
And how I’d never say, “I love you, too,”
just, “I know.”

November 10, 2005

The Waste Land

Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

T. S. Eliot

Girly Nerdy Goodness: Episode 1

Attention: Girls are invading the internet! On our very first episode of Girly Nerdy Goodness, we take a trip into the wizarding world, learn how to moonwalk (or not), and discuss the possibility of a GNG intern. We also gave one clueless male a peek into the mysterious female psyche. Don’t forget to follow us on Twitter and become a fan on Facebook. And if you have any comments, concerns, or female-related questions, leave us a comment or send us an email at GNGshow@girlynerdygoodness.com.

Click here to listen to Episode 1: A New Show

Meditations in an Emergency

Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French?

Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth.

Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a change?

I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.

Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves.

However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of pastoral life, nor with nostalgia for an innocent past of perverted acts in pastures. No. One need never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes–I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless i know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regretlife. It is more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and even they continue to pass. Do they know what they’re missing? Uh huh.

My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time; they are indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and disloyal, so that no one trusts me. I am always looking away. Or again at something after it has given me up. It makes me restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them still. If only i had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I would stay at home and do something. It’s not that I’m curious. On the contrary, I am bored but it’s my duty to be attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above the earth. And lately, so great has their anxiety become, I can spare myself little sleep.

Now there is only one man I like to kiss when he is unshaven. Heterosexuality! you are inexorably approaching. (How best discourage her?)

St. Serapion, I wrap myself in the robes of your whiteness which is like midnight in Dostoevsky. How I am to become a legend, my dear? I’ve tried love, but that holds you in the bosom of another and I’m always springing forth from it like the lotus–the ecstasy of always bursting forth! (but one must not be distracted by it!) or like a hyacinth, “to keep the filth of life away,” yes, even in the heart, where the filth is pumped in and slanders and pollutes and determines. I will my will, though I may become famous for a mysterious vacancy in that department, that greenhouse.

Destroy yourself, if you don’t know!

It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I admire you, beloved, for the trap you’ve set. It’s like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.

“Fanny Brown is run away – scampered off with a Cornet of Horse; I do love that little Minx, & hope She may be happy, tho’ She has vexed me by this exploit a little too. – Poor silly Cecchina! or F: B: as we used to call her. –I wish She had a good Whipping and 10,000 pounds.” –Mrs. Thrale

I’ve got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest suntans. I’ll be back, I’ll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley; you don’t want me to go where you go, so I go where you don’t want me to. It’s only afternoon, there’s a lot ahead. There won’t be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in the lock and the knob turns.

Frank O’Hara (1957)

My Kind of Survey

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Well, besides J.K. Rowling...I own all of Jane Austen's novels (including two copies of Pride and Prejudice), so that's 7.

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
I have three copies of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (hardcover, paperback, French paperback).

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
A little, but sometimes it's just awkward to rework a sentence around prepositions.

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Mr. Darcy, Mr. Tilney, Henry DeTamble, Westley from The Princess Bride, Harry Potter, Leo Borlock, Robbie from Atonement. Wow, I'm in love with a lot of fictional characters.

4a) What fictional character would you most like to be?
Elizabeth Bennet.

4b) What fictional character do you think most resembles you?
I'm afraid that it's Esther Greenwood. Or Brod.

5) What book have you read the most times in your life?
I have no idea. Probably Maniac Magee because I read it so much as a kid and again a few times as an adult.

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
Maniac Magee, hands down.

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
All the Sad Young Literary Men by Keith Gessen.

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
I've read a lot of good books this year...The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly, The Brutal Language of Love by Alicia Erian, White Noise by Don DeLillo, etc.

9) If you could force everyone you know to read one book, what would it be?
The Bell Jar.

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?
I honestly couldn't answer that.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
I think The Book of Lost Things would be fantastic. The Brief History of the Dead might be interesting. I'm also interested in seeing the new Bell Jar adaptation.

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?
I don't really care...I'm not too picky about books being made into movies.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I remember dreaming about falling through the pages of a book when I was a kid. It was scary/awesome.

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?
Twilight...it's like a car crash.

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?
I'm struggling with The Canterbury Tales right now. Beowulf wasn't a walk in the park, but it wasn't as bad as I expected. I still hate The Turn of the Screw and Heart of Darkness is so dense that it hurts.

16) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you've seen?
I haven't seen any really obscure Shakespeare plays. I've seen A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Tempest, and As You Like It.

17) Do prefer French or Russian?
French, bien sur!

18) Roth or Updike?
Haven't read either.

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?
Probably Eggers, but I like both.

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Shakespeare, for sure. I'm a sucker for the bard. I like Chaucher's stories, but they're such a chore to read.

21) Austen or Eliot?
Austen.

22) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
I haven't done much 18th century reading. I feel like I have too many gaps to discuss...

23) What is your favorite novel?
The Bell Jar, Everything is Illuminated, The Trial, Pride and Prejudice, Frankenstein, The Handmaid's Tale

24a) Play?
The Importance of Being Earnest

24b) Musical?
Godspell, Wicked, Aida

25) Poem?
Invictus by William Ernest Henley

26) Essay?
"A Modest Proposal" by Jonathan Swift, "Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses" by Mark Twain

27) Short story?
"The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates, "The Anatomy of Desire" by John L'Heureux, "Cathedral" by Raymond Carver, "Harrison Bergeron" by Kurt Vonnegut

28) Work of non-fiction?
Discourse on the Method by Descartes, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby, Night by Elie Wiesel, A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints by Dito Montiel

29) Who is your favorite writer?
Sylvia Plath or Jonathan Safran Foer

30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Stephenie Meyer really needs to go back to Creative Writing 101.

31) What is your desert island book?
Everything is Illuminated.

32) And ... what are you reading right now?
Let's see...selections from The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer, Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys and Pop Salvation by Lance Reynald. I also need to finish Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, but that's currently on hold.

It's Hard Out Here for a Semi-Conservative Pimp

As a female in the month of October, I'm faced with an age-old question: slutty bumblebee or slutty nurse? Halloween is looming and I feel as though I've exhausted all of my creative costume ideas:
Vending Machine - X
Teen Girl Squad - X
Lamp - X
Quailman - X
Chewed Gum - X
A Picnic - X
My own myspace - X

Unfortunately, Halloween USA doesn't afford many options for a girl who DOESN'T want to scream, "fuck me" with her costume. A simple Google search for "women's Halloween costume," gave me the following:

I guess I have to give props to the costume industry; they've somehow made it possible for a girl to dress as a slutty anything: every character from the Wizard of Oz, a referee, a police officer, a mail carrier, any Disney princess, an insect. One can even show off the girls at Hogwarts in a low-cut Hermione Granger costume! But what about the girls like me, who'd rather show off their books than boobs? who prefer Star Wars to short skirts? I'm not saying that I'll be dressing up as a nun for Halloween, but I wish that I could strike a happy medium. Is funny and flirty possible? Or is my choice really between Officer Sexy and wearing a black garbage bag to parties? I don't foresee the costume company execs becoming feminists any time soon, but hopefully I'll have a few more options in the future. After all, dressing as a bee doesn't seem too practical...where would I put my stinger?

Back to teachers' dirty looks.

The Fall semester is well underway. This means a few things: my beginning of the semester motivation has worn off, more parking spots are opening up as fewer people are going to class, the sorority girls have stopped trying to recruit me into their cult, and Winter semester is looming closer. The class schedule went up last week and I pored over it obsessively until deciding on my schedule. My temporary Winter 2010 schedule goes as follows:

Monday
Engl 424 (18C Novel)
1:05 - 2:20

Tuesday
Ling 280 (Intro to Linguistics)
11:30 - 12:45

ESci 275 (Intro to Env. Sci)
1:05 - 2:20

Wednesday

Engl 424 (18C Novel)
1:05 - 2:20

Art 204 (Beginning Watercolor)
3:00 - 5:50

Engl 3901 (Shakespeare: from Stage to Screen)
6:10 - 9:00

Thursday

Ling 280 (Intro to Linguistics)
11:30 - 12:45

ESci 275 (Intro to Env. Sci)
1:05 - 2:20

I need a historical English class (18C novel), another random English class (Shakespeare), no-lab science, and two electives. I figured that Intro to Linguistics and Beginning Watercolor would be easy enough for my last semester...but I might replace Linguistics with an online class called "Issues in Cyberspace." So this is my last semester of college, then the "real world" begins. Or maybe more school. All I know is that I'm scared to death.

Borders had a sale...

I went into Borders a few days ago looking for a book for my dad. Of course, whenever I go to Borders I must consider the fact that I'll probably buy something. Just usually not 12 somethings. While perusing the bargain book section, I noticed The Best American Non-required Reading 2008 for just $4. It was one of those books that I'd always wanted to buy, but hadn't gotten around to. I snatched it up and continued browsing. Then I noticed boxes lining the wall next to bargain books. Boxes full of books for $4. I knew that it was meant to be; I immediately starting grabbing at paperbacks that I'd been meaning to read and others that I'd never heard of. It was euphoria...it was overwhelming...it was really started to hurt my arms. I was carrying so many books that I appealed to my mother. "I...I don't know what to do! I don't know what to put back!" I cried, bending forward to show her my load. "Well, I guess we have to buy them all," she said simply.

Two days later, I returned alone. I was less brave on my own, cautious while browsing the boxes and shelves. Will I really read this? I'd ask myself. Do I really need another copy of this just because I like the cover? I narrowed my stack to four "must-haves" and headed to the checkout.

The List (in no particular order)
Towelhead - Alicia Erian
Q&A - Vikas Swarup
Jane Austen Book Club - Karen Joy Fowler
Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict - Laurie Rigler (figured I'd stick with the Jane Austen Theme)
Best American Non-required Reading 2003 - ed. Dave Eggers
Best American Non-required Reading 2006 - ed. Dave Eggers
Best American Non-required Reading 2008 - ed. Dave Eggers
The Short Stories - Ernest Hemingway
The Beautiful Miscellaneous - Dominic Smith
Everything Bad is Good for You - Steven Johnson
Who the Hell is Pansy O'Hara? The Fascinating Stories Behind 50 of the World's Best-Loved Books - Jenny Bond and Chris Sheedy
Miracle at St. Anna - James McBride
God is Dead - Ron Currie, Jr.
Overheard in New York - S. Morgan Friedman and Michael Malice
The Life Before Her Eyes - Laura Kasischke
The Book of Lost Things - John Connelly

I never did find that book for my dad.

...It's Arrested Development

Over the past week or so, I re-watched the entire series of Arrested Development. My love for it has been renewed and now I find myself plugging the show to everyone I encounter. First I just talk it up, then I offer to lend out my own DVDs, then I contemplate a kidnapping and forced watching of the show. But what about this show is so good? Well, everything. So I've decided to use this blog to plug the show as well. Every week (or whenever I feel like it) I'm going to post a classic AD video clip, quote, photo, or just a picture of a frozen banana. Let the festivities begin.

Arrested Development Classic Guest Star #1
Zach Braff

Zach Braff appears in Season 2 as Phillip Litt, producer of the popular Girls With Low Self Esteem video series. His main ambition is to get girls with low self esteem to take off their clothing on camera. He comes off as a total jerk, prompting Lindsay to create a video called Men With Low Self Esteem. When Lindsay and Tobias confront Phillip and pull his pants down for their video, they discover...

Arrested Development Classic Moment #1

Phillip Litt suffers from the same rare condition as Tobias - he is a Never Nude (that's "exactly what it sounds like")!!!! Despite Tobias's claims throughout the series that "there are dozens of us," Phillip Litt is the only other Never Nude that we encounter. The two realize that they share a rare bond and converse in their always present cut-off jean shorts. It's a beautiful (and classic) moment.

Something About an Island

If you like the TV show LOST, or if you need a reason to make fun of obsessive LOST fans, you should check out the new blog Katelyn and Annie started. Now that Season 5 has come to a close, we've decided to take this summer to re-watch every episode of LOST. Katelyn and Annie are planning on blogging about each episode - reflections, new theories, insights, etc. I might just contribute here and there if inspiration strikes. You never know, a new LOST drinking game might pop up.

Books, books, books!

I hardly write anything here, but I figured I could spare some time to blog a few lists here and there. Specifically lists about books, since I spend a good chunk of my time reading.

Books read in May 2009:
1. I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith - novel, 20C British
2. Shopaholic Takes Manhattan - Sophie Kinsella - novel, 21C British
3. Notes on a Scandal - Zoe Heller - novel, 21C British
4. All the Sad Young Literary Men - Keith Gessen - novel, 21C American
5. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - J.K. Rowling - novel, 20C British*
6. Vita Nuova - Dante Alighieri - poetry/prose, 13C Italian
7. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - J.K. Rowling - novel, 20C British*
8. The Divine Comedy: Inferno - Dante Alighieri - epic poem, 14C Italian^
9. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - J.K. Rowling - novel, 21C British*
10. Little Children - Tom Perrotta - novel, 21C American

Also,
Selections from The Decameron - Giovanni Boccaccio, 14C Italian
Selections from The Book of the City of Ladies - Christine de Pizan, 15C French


The stars are re-reads, since I've obviously read the entire Harry Potter series. Several times. The ^ by Dante means I haven't finished it yet. We were only supposed to read a few Cantos for class, but I decided to keep going. Unfortunately, I got distracted by other readings for class (and fun) and having yet picked it up again.

Every time that I've re-read the Harry Potter series, I secretly fear that they'll lose some of their magic for me. I'm afraid that after 10 years and countless re-readings, I won't love them as much anymore, that they'll just become stories from my childhood. Luckily, these fears have never been realized. In fact, it seems as if every time I read the books, I discover something new, or rediscover something that I'd forgotten.

I Capture the Castle was cute, Shopaholic was cutely annoying, Notes on a Scandal was enthralling. I was disappointed with All the Sad Young Literary Men. Keith Gessen's prose is superb in that last-sentence-of-a-chapter-really-grabs-you-and-floats-around-your-head-for-a-few-minutes way, but the plot and character development were severely lacking. The characters were so underdeveloped that half the time I couldn't even distinguish between his three narrators (were there three? or four?). Each was a self-pitying, self-absorbed twenty-something struggling through love, life, and post-grad studies. Unfortunately, none were sympathetic, or even interesting, to the reader. Also, the infusions of Russian history were usually overwhelming and completely unnecessary. Yes, I understand that one of the characters (I don't remember which one) is attempting to writing his thesis on the Mensheviks or something, but his constant pontifcation is alienating to readers who most likely have no idea what he's talking about. I can only assume that Gessen himself is some sort of hybrid of his three narrators which should not be taken as a compliment.

Dante's Vita Nuova is an interesting mix of poetry and prose. Dante either prefaces or follows each poem with his specific reasons for writing it and sometimes a brief interpretation or explanation of passages. The Vita Nuova is comprised completely of poems about the love of Dante's life, Beatrice. The entire concept of the work, stemming from the title (Italian for New Life), is that Dante began a new life upon meeting Beatrice, symbolically starting anew after seeing her for the first time. While his obsessiveness and adherence to "courtly love" are hard to relate to, Dante's work is impeccable and surprisingly easy to read.

I would highly recommend Tom Perrotta's Little Children. His characters are so real, so relatable, that it was easy to forget I was reading a book. I saw the movie first, so I knew what to expect from the book, but was still plesantly surprised. However, the last few minutes of the movie were different than the book and I honestly think the movie's ending did more for the story. It's definitely still worth the read.

Manliness is next to Drunkenness

While visiting Michigan State last weekend, the only logical activity on a Friday night was to get drunk. At the movies. It may seem as if this is all I ever do...and that's basically true. But it had been a long day of lounging around watching Arrested Development and napping, so Abby and I figured that we should get out of the apartment long enough to spend a few more hours in front of a screen. While perusing the wine section at Meijer, we tried to choose the most interestingly titled wine available. Unfortunately, we couldn't buy a bottle of Joe Blow Red Wine because we had no corkscrew! We settled for The Prodigal Son, which conveniently had a screw on top, and headed to the theater to see the new Wolverine movie. Making up drinking games at the last minute is fun; there's a bit of a rush to it, a hurried anticipation of what's to come. This time, we decided to keep things simple. We only drank to:

• Hugh Jackman being shirtless (being in a tank top counts if his pecs are sufficiently visible)
• The introduction of new powers
• Overt displays of manliness (this mainly includes loud growling, the use of brute force to destroy indestructible objects, or manly power strugges)

Needless to say, the bottle was empty in 40 minutes. I had enough of a buzz going on to partially block out the cheesy dialogue and shield myself from the raw testosterone being emitted from the screen. Unfortunately, a wine buzz only lasts for so long. At least Hugh Jackman is hot.

Drunkness halfway through the movie (1-10): 4.5
Drunkness at the end of the movies (1-10): not nearly enough

A Lesson in Karaoke

I won't pretend to be an expert on bar culture. In fact, I really know nothing about going out on Saturday nights...I'm not even 21 yet. However, I do know a thing or two about the art of karaoke. Most people don't seem to realize that karaoke is a spectator sport, a drunken endeavor meant for the audience to laugh and enjoy as much as the singer. Being in the audience at Jake's last night was not enjoyable! I didn't laugh! I barely even felt secondhand embarrassment for the performers, instead I just felt a growing sense of apathy.

Obviously karaoke isn't about talent or sobriety, so I tried not to judge the inhuman screeches and slurs being emitted from the stage. But, c'mon people, at least pick a song that's entertaining to see performed! The songbook was bursting with karaoke classics just waiting to be butchered...but the book remained unappeased, as well as my own mind and spirit as we sat through 2 hours of sloppily chosen ballads. In the hopes that this blog becomes a manual for drunks everywhere, I've created the following karaoke guidelines to better serve bar patrons around the world.


Inappropriate Karaoke Songs:

• Tracy Chapman - Give Me One Reason - This song was done twice last night. TWICE. The crowd was small enough that I cannot understand how 2 out of 20 people both decided to sing this song within an hour of each other. It's not 1995. The end.
• Chuck Berry - My Ding-a-Ling - Don't get me wrong, Chuck Berry is awesome. This song is even pretty funny. It's just not funny when a small group of douche bags sing this, obviously under the impression that bar hopping girls will touch their ding-a-lings that night. It's even less funny that some trashy bleach blond girls sitting at the bar probably will touch their ding-a-lings.
• Jewel - Foolish Games - This song isn't bad, it's just annoyingly slow. Also, Jewel has a strange vocal range and listening to someone try to publicly replicate it is painful.
  
• Country - no explanation necessary. I have no specific examples of country songs because I, luckily, didn't recognize any that were sung last night.
  

Appropriate Karaoke Songs:

• The Animals - House of the Rising Sun - This may be the only appropriate song that was actually heard last night.
• The entire Queen collection - Unfortunately, no one sang Queen last night...and our names weren't called to do Bohemian Rhapsody before we left, so we couldn't show the crowd what was up.
• Journey - Don't Stop Believin' - Obviously.
• One hit wonders of years past - Obviously.
  

Borderline Songs:

• The Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the Devil - This song is really awesome, but it's also really long. If you're going to be on stage for 6 1/2 minutes, at least be willing to PERFORM. Please don't just mumble through the words; make Mick proud!
  

I usually try not to be such an elitist, but sometimes I just can't help but judge people by their drunken musical choices. Karaoke should be fun, not only for the singers, but for the audience as well. I hate (well really I don't mind) to break it to you, but Tracy Chapman and Jewel are NOT FUN.

One good thing did come out of our experience last night: Michelle and I decided that our scale of drunkness can no longer be as simple as 1 to 10. It now ranges from 1 to Don't Stop Believin', with more specific increments coming soon. Because you can only be sure that you're wasted with a microphone in hand and Steve Perry in your heart.

A History in Books

When I was in kindergarten, my next door neighbor was placed in front of a Hooked on Phonics tape. She bragged to me while we sat inside a large cardboard box on my front lawn, pretending to be frogs, "I know how to read. Do you?" I was five and I already knew shame; I wore it like a glove, buried it deep into my pockets and carried it with me.
"Ribbit," I responded and called it a day. I was embarrassed then, as I dragged my feet up the driveway and confronted my mother.

"Why don't I know how to read?" I pouted, on the brink of tears. Pre-school had already revealed the hardships of life to me, uncovered my true nature as a perfectionist. If Natalie could read, then surely I could! I was used to being the best in my class: the best at recognizing colors, the best at using crayons to put those colors onto paper, the best at counting to ten, the best at tying my shoes...This kindergartner would not be had for a fool!

"Well, If you want to learn..."

So I learned, I recited, I wrote, I sounded out, I recognized. And soon enough, I could say to Natalie and all the kids in my class, "I know how to read!" Of course, she needed to tell me that she read at a third grade reading level. So I read more and improved and discovered Dr. Seuss, The Berenstein Bears, Little Critter, Paddington Bear, Clifford, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, The Velventeen Rabbit. Eventually, it didn't matter what Natalie was reading, it only mattered that I had my hands on the goods - the books.

Over the next four years, I grew into the books my older sister read: The Babysitters Club, The Boxcar Children, and finally settled into the first story that would actually change my elementary school outlook on life.

Growing up in a predominately Caucasian suburb of Detroit doesn't provide a child with any notion of diversity. In fourth grade, I read Maniac Magee, the story of a runaway boy who finds himself staying with a black family in a completely segregated town. I was nine and I realized that race was something we created, and that if Maniac Magee could integrate a city, we could look past skin color too. Every once in a while, I still consider the scene in which Maniac Magee looked into the mirror and discovered that no part of his body was purely white, the same as no part of his host family's skin was truly black. I was changed.

In sixth grade, I helped out in the school library during lunch. Surprisingly, this was the cool thing to do that year, and reading was also cool in some ways. The entire sixth grade class fought tooth and nail when a new Goosebumps installment settled into the shelf. There were breathless races and thrown elbows until one student ultimately triumphed, holding the tome above their head and pumping their other fist. The rest of the class hurried to add their names to the wait-list and divided Night of the Living Dummy, Welcome to Dead House, and The Haunted Mask amongst themselves. The librarian beamed at all the excitement over books, an excitement which would probably not last for most of us young people. But the Goosebumps series captured our imaginations and was probably the forerunner to the reverence most of my high school classmates felt for Edgar Allen Poe.

Something else happened to shake up my small literary sphere in sixth grade. Sitting in the back of the class, I listened attentively as Mr. Decker mentioned a new series that had apparently gained popularity in Britain. Two friends and I went to the library that very day to check out copies, each choosing one of the three novels that had so far been released. I went home that day clutching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to my chest. Unfortunately, starting with the third book in a series isn't exactly the best route to take. A little confused by what was happening in the magical world, I decided to wait until my friend had finished the first book and then start anew. Starting Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was like setting my little sixth-grade life on fire. I was ten years old, going on eleven, just like Harry.

Contrary to appearances, the Harry Potter series is not about magic or spells or potions. The series encompasses the struggle between good and evil, morality, racism, choices and consequences, the power of friendship, and the ability of one to choose their own destiny. I see a reflection of the Muggle-world in Harry Potter: the results of corrupt government, the devastation of war, and the strength it takes to grieve profound losses.

While I haven't picked up a Goosebumps book since I was eleven, I've never stopped reading Harry Potter books. In fact, the years have only caused me to read with new fervor. I still cry when Dumbledore dies and cheer when Fred and George escape from Umbridge's tyrannical claws. My years with Harry will always leave him a special place on my shelf and in my heart.

*****

I think that some books just need to come to us at specific periods in our lives. I first picked up The Bell Jar when I was 15; it took me almost a month to read. It felt like something was missing, something was slow-moving in the pages. A year later, I tried again and found myself completely captivated, flying through it in two days. Somehow, Plath had spoken to me like none before. I found myself entwined in her words, copying down lines onto notebook paper, and wondering how someone could have put my own thoughts so perfectly into writing.

Upon graduating high school, I spent a summer feeling particularly disoriented in my own skin. I felt that I had no direction in life or even in reading. Wandering aimlessly down the aisles of the public library, I stumbled across a hardcover copy of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Intrigued by the cover - an orange handprint bearing the title in an interesting font - I checked it out and lost myself in it for a few days. Phrases like, "sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living" seemed to encapsulate my post-grad woes. I was on the brink of my entire life, yet in a state of non-living. The story was quite good, but it was the prose that Jonathan Safran Foer had written that was entirely new and completely heart-wrenching to me. I moved onto his previously written novel, Everything is Illuminated.

Of all the books I've read in recent years, Everything is Illuminated stands out the most. It was slightly more difficult to read than Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close; sometimes the story was slow-moving and the lack of indented dialogue could become tedious, but I was rewarded in the end. The novel played perfectly into my fascination with Nazi Germany as well as my desire to identify with Ukraine, the only country that I am certain my own family came from. I laughed out loud at Alex's letters, felt my heartstrings tighten when I read about the town of Trachimbrod and cried shamelessly over its devastating destruction. Recently, I've found myself flipping through the pages randomly and reading passages that jump out at me. It gives me a strange certainty about things.

Countless books I've read have given me something, taught me a lesson, strengthened my resolve, encouraged me to write, left a smile on my face, or made me feel things I thought I was incapable of.

Fahrenheit 451 and The Handmaid's Tale taught me the value of the written word and my own ability to interpret it. Bradbury captured my quiet ambition to "hold onto the world tight someday". So few words can carry such a large burden.

Nabokov proved that prose can be anything but prosaic and commonplace, that it can soar softly off of the page and burrow itself into our marrow, like a secret to each reader's soul.

In Frankenstein, I found a message about the power, and horrors, that can arise from human knowledge. I saw that naivety may save one from the harshness of reality and it may decrease pain, but knowledge is almost impossible to ignore.

The Trial presented me with an absurd, inescapable justice system, in which no normal rules apply. Kafka wanted to show us that the real world is just as absurd, leaving us with virtually nocontrol over our own lives.

While I didn't think much of it while reading, the memory of Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go strikes me every so often with its immense sadness.

*****

I wrote this because I was having a bad day. I picked up a book of Miranda July's short stories and read over passages I had previously noted. It was a slow tension that had built in me and held stagnant throughout the day and I felt it culminating as I stood there. I set down No one belongs here more than you and then flipped through The Journals of Sylvia Plath, intensely underlined. Then, I sat in front of my bookshelf and resolved to finish Babylon Revisited by F. Scott Fitzgerald that night.

Finally, I began to wonder why I always turn to books in times of need. Why are books my constant? Most importantly, why do I read at all?

At first, I thought that I could trace my answer out systematically, examine the books I've loved over the years and they would divulge their secrets to me. I learned how to read because I was embarrassed that I couldn't. I continued to read because I was proud of my own ability, then out of the simple rapture that books gave me. Certain books certainly changed me, but there must be more.

Upon examining aspects of my own life, I find that a lack of truly meaningful personal relationships leads me to find connections to humankind indirectly. To love a story, is to love what a writer painstakingly produced, and is to forge a path between reader and writer. This is how I see the world - through stories, through someone else's eyes. Unable to share a profound bond directly with another human being, I read about other people's lives in books. However, a strange desire to attach myself to authors via a string of well-chosen words is honestly not my only motivation to go to Barnes & Noble. I have too many reasons to read to count.

I read because Frank O'Hara paints the sky a different shade of blue. Because Jane Austen renders me temporarily romantic. Because I will only ever see war through the eyes of Kurt Vonnegut. Because to write is to live, to write is to make life real. And to read is to dive into the marrow of life and interpret what one finds there.

Vampires and Vodka (or Rum)

In the same vein as The Uninvited drinking game, Michelle and I created the Twilight drinking game last night. For some reason, Twilight is still playing at the dollar show, even though it's been out on DVD for weeks now. Having already laughed our way through a prior showing of the movie, we figured the best way to sit through it again would be to drink large amounts of alcohol. If you've somehow been lucky enough to avoid the hype surrounding Twilight over the past year or so, I'll give a brief summary of the movie/book plot. Hot, sparkly, obsessive and condescending vampire meets clumsy, awkward, anti-feminist teenaged girl. "Love." Creepy staring. Bad Vampire in a leather jacket. Horrible special effects. Fight scene. More "love" and obsessiveness. The end.

The rules are as follows:

- Bella telling someone not to call her Isabella, "it's Bella." - 1

- Stalker behavior, including but not limited to:

• Watching while asleep - 3
• Staring from afar - 1
• Staring up close - 2
• Trying to get rid of the competition a.k.a. Jacob - 1

- Awkward faces - 1

- Melodramatic endearments, including but not limited to:

• "You are my life now." - 5
• "I love you." - 1
• Stating that one would rather be dead than be without the other - 3
  
• References to being together forever - 1
• Bella becoming a complete psycho when Edward implies that they can't be together - 2

- Bella's clumsiness/references to her clumsiness - 1

- References to 1950s women behavior, i.e.:

• Bella cooking because she's a girl - 1
• Bella cleaning because she's a girl - 1
• Bella taking care of Charlie because she's a girl - 1

- Stereotypical dad behavior - 1

- Displays of super-human strength - 1

- Sparkling in the sunlight - at least 6

- References to inhuman beauty - 1

- References to Edward being "cold" or his chest resembling granite, marble, or stone - 1

- Ridiculous fashion choices - 1

- Bad cinematography, i.e.:

• Shaky camerawork in the woods intended for dramatic effect, but really just causing nausea - 1

- Edward carrying/dragging Bella around - 2

- Stephenie Meyer making a "cameo" (cameo in quotation marks because simply calling it a cameo would imply that she is famous) - 5

Amendments made during the movie:

• Awkward father/daughter moments - 1
• Wearing flannel - 1
• Any character looking constipated, or like they're having an orgasm - 2
• Horrible special effects, especially those involving strength, speed, seeming to glide rather than walk, and emerging from a cloud of fog - 1
• Ill-fitting baseball uniforms/hats - 1
• Overly dramatic lighting, especially in this lovely scene - 2
• Weird "indie" music that doesn't fit what's happening on screen - 1
• Unrealistic portrayal of high school interactions, as in the first minute of this scene - 1
• References to Forks being a small town - 1
  

- Setting up for a sequel - drink until death

Drunkness after the first hour (scale of 1-10): 5
Drunkess at the end of the movie: 4
How much I wanted to die by the time the credits rolled: 9.5

While I hope that I never see this movie again, I am interested in how many dramatic stares (either up close or from afar) occur in 2 hours. I would guess that around 85 stares take place, so if anyone is interested in testing this hypothesis, please let me know! On that note, I really wouldn't recommend drinking for every stare; you might have to enlist an usher to scrape you off of the floor after the credits.

I leave you with this sample scene: Bella and Edward's first encounter. It includes staring from afar, staring up close, awkward faces, a character looking constipated/like he's having an orgasm, ridiculous fashion, and weird "indie" music.

Mother! Dramatic Foreshadowing!

Last night, while making plans to go see The Uninvited at the Dollar Show, Michelle and I decided that the only way to get the most out of our $1.50 (yes, the Dollar Show costs more than a dollar) was to play a drinking game during the movie. Using the trailer and our vast knowledge of scary movies, we developed the following list, as well as the number of drinks attributed to each item:

Dramatic Imagery - including, but not limited to:
- close-up of feet running - 1
- heavy breathing in the darkness - 1
- close-up of a marble on the ground - 1
- birds, particularly crows - 2
- storm clouds/claps of thunder - 1
- silence when there should be noise - 1
- dead animal - 2
- dead bird - 3
- dramatic shadows - 1
- general foreshadowing - 1

Hands popping out, something jumping out, etc - 1
Something falling in slow-motion - 2
Something falling that shouldn't be hitting the floor - 1
Something falling in slow-motion that shouldn't be hitting the floor - 3
A dead bird falling in slow-motion - 6 or so

Use of the word "mom" - 1
Use of the word "mother" - 2

Nonverbal flirting from dad towards step-mom - 1

Use of the words "spirit"/"ghost"/"undead" - 1

Pot smoking - 2

Use of the word "crazy," specifically the main girl saying, "I'm not crazy!" - 1


Looking at old newspaper clippings/looking up on the internet/significant use of technology to solve the mystery - 0-2
Looking at old family photos - 1/photo
Discovering step-mom in an old family photo - 5
Developing photo in a dark room - 3
Developing an old family photo in a dark room and discovering the step-mom in the background of the photo - 9

Amendments to the list made during the movie:
Teen angst - 1
Use of the name "Mildred" - 2
Passive aggressiveness from step-mom - 1
Someone being seen only in a reflection - 1
Aloof father - 1
Something involving the love interest - 1
Twist ending - chug
Michelle guessing the end of the movie - still chugging

We recommend rum and coke, but wouldn't frown upon the alcohol of your choice!

If you're interested in wasting a few bucks...

I'd recommend investing in the Progressive International Microwavable S'Mores Maker. The PIMSM allows you to microwave TWO perfect s'mores in just thirty seconds! AND, the ingenious design allows graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows to heat evenly at the same time. This is perfect because usually the marshmallow manages to freeze itself while the graham cracker melts and the chocolate just spontaneously combusts. Without the PIMSM, I could never create an evenly heated s'more.

The real message of this product must be: why do for free what you can do for $9? Why would I throw graham crackers, chocolate, and a marshmallow onto a plate when I can secure them with two flimsy plastic arms? I feel as if I've been stumbling around in the dark all these years; only today has the Progressive International Microwavable S'Mores Maker opened my eyes.
Just look at how snugly this innovative tool fits into the microwave!

However, I'm forced to ask myself: why do I need to add water? I don't usually pour water onto my s'mores when I'm sitting at a bonfire. Are these some kind of newfangled wet s'mores? Should I shake and stir as well? Until Progressive answers this query, I'll waste my water AND my $9 elsewhere.

W.W.G.D.?

In this day and age, perhaps in every day and age, existential crises are commonplace. Who hasn't pondered life while reading tabloids in line at the grocery store? felt utterly alone while utilizing the Taco Bell restroom? questioned the afterlife (or lack thereof) with buddies during a poker game? Seems like we're all just trying to make sense out of this life in our own unique ways.

Some of us may opt for isolation, planting ourselves in the wilderness and hoping for enlightenment. Some of us take up a hobby to distract ourselves from the distressing uncertainties of life. Some of us find religion. I, on the other hand, found Google.

My personal relationship with Google came slowly and deliberately. I didn't experience a religious epiphany or witness an Internet miracle, but I did start noticing how often, "Google it!" came out of my mouth when faced with quotidian problems. Who was that guy that invented potato chips? I'll just Google it (George Crum). How long did the Hundred Years' War really last? Google it (116 years). What's a good recipe for a tofu smoothie? Google it (1 cup frozen strawberries, 1 cup ice, 1 cup ice water, 1/2 cup cream, 1/4 cup sugar substitute, 3 1/2 oz silken tofu, 1/2 tsp vanilla extract)!!! Finally, I started to realize the true capacity of this search engine. Google is everything that other gods claim to be.

Omniscient: It's pretty obvious that Google knows everything. But unlike other "gods," Google also provides its followers with instant gratification. If I were to seek guidance and pray to "God," who knows when I would actually see the results? I would probably have to sit around pondering my problem, then eventually go out and learn life lessons or something useless like that. You may have noticed that Google provides millions of search results within a second. No more waiting around for another god to solve my problems; Google answers me instantaneously!

Not only is Google omniscient, but it gives one options. Type, "What should I have for dinner?" into that handy search bar and you will be rewarded with 145,000,000 results. Feeling a bit more profound? A search for, "The meaning of life," yields 34,200,000 results. If you're unsatisfied with the first page, don't fret! There are 34,199,999 pages left, just waiting to answer all of life's mysteries.

Omnipresent: The Internet knows no bounds. Google knows no bounds.

Omnibenevolent: I'll just ask this question- what has Google ever done to you? That's right! Besides being an all-knowing and ever-present source of comfort, nothing!

When faced with a tough decision, I simply look to my left wrist and am inspired by the bracelet which reads, "W.W.G.D.?" Well, Google would probably sort through millions of web sites in less than a second. But how can a mere human, such as myself, emulate Google's good example? I can systematically sort through my options! It may take more than 0.23 seconds, but I can always work on my time. And if all else fails, I simply turn to The Good Site itself and appeal directly to the search bar.

Christmas? Easter? We Googlists observe whichever holidays appear on the site's logo. It's often serendipitous, heading over to do a few searches only to discover that today, of all days, is the anniversary of the first hot air balloon flight! I obviously must stay home from school to bake a commemorative cake.

Walter Gropius's 125th birthday? I'm not entirely sure who that is, but I surely can't do any work on a day like this.

Sure, we also celebrate those other holidays, but it's so much more exciting to be surprised, to learn that on this day, the first laser was invented!

Worshiping at the foot of Google has given me a sense of control in a world driven by randomness and chaos. I have a god who's always present, always good, and all knowing. If ever I feel as though I've strayed from the path of Googleness, I ask myself, "What Would Google Do?" And I know, with certainty and pride, that Google will always see me through.

And for those that consider themselves energy-conscious worshipers, there's always The Church of Blackle!

I.O.U. one blog

This blog has been alive for a few days, but I've yet to truly breathe life into it. I blame it on a lack of general insight into the world, lethargy, and a French Civilization paper that took way more time and energy than I had planned on sacrificing to it.

So, this pseud0-blog is an I.O.U. for a REAL blog (hopefully, many real blogs) to come.