Saturday, November 1, 2008


I'm sitting here at 2 AM with a glass of wine listening to the Dixie Chicks on repeat. It doesn't sound like a recipe for awesome, does it? Well, shit, I don't wanna talk about it, let's talk about something else.

1) Tinker, tinker. I've been tinkering around with this Manos I mentioned in my previous post. My So Called Scarf? I know I said I was anti. I lied, it's a really nice pattern.

2) On Thursday afternoon Brax and I arrived at my house, still smacking our wine lips from an evening at my parents' house. (We practiced some new songs with my mom, for our Andrews Sisters band. Those of you who find yourselves on the Thanksgiving drunk dial list get ready, we've got some excellent selections for you this year. Remember, let voice mail get it.) Also, woods-walking, naturally:

Anyway, we arrived at my house, and in the door was a big fat envelope, and in the envelope was:

The proof! The proof, the proof! The book proof, which Karida and I must look over very closely, and make any changes we want, because this is the last call for changes on the drunk knitting book. It has pictures in it and everything. There is even a picture of me and Karida in it, and we don't look stupid either. They put make up on us and stuff, so we look pretty stylish. Karida called me up and we dorked out over it for a while.

3) No Good Nick recently posted about the Book It! program from the 80's. Do you all remember this? You got pizza for reading books. PFFFFFFFFFFFT. I WOULD BE SO FREAKING FAT IF THIS WERE STILL TRUE.

My house, like Nick's, was always full of books, and my mom let me read whatever I wanted. The only book I remember my mom telling me not to read was Little Birds by Anias Nin, which I, of course, read the very second she left the room. I definitely read things that were over my head (I read the Catcher in the Rye when I was 11, and Possessing the Secret of Joy when I was 13. These were over my head.). It didn't do me any harm, and I'm a firm believer of letting kids read whatever they want.

I still read like a madwoman. When I went to Monticello last year I was all twitchy because I wanted to read Thomas Jefferson's books, which were, of course, behind glass. The tour guide was like, "Well, here's his books! That guy sure liked to read. Now if you'll all follow me into the bedroom..." So I didn't really even get to look at them very much. Dang, I like books.

This is why I can't get behind Kindle.

Things Kindle can't do
-have a book smell
-have old notations written in it
-sit on a shelf and tell you about the person who owns it
-be a time capsule (I stick things in books and joyfully rediscover them years later)
-have "Fannie Roberts on her Birthday, from Aunt Bev, March 12, 1946." written on the inside cover.
-get dog-eared and well loved.

Nick made a list of books he's read in the last 3 months, and I don't have that kind of time, but I figure I'll follow his lead. Here's a smattering of stuff I've read recently.

Wuthering Heights Emily Bronte Yeah, yeah. I'll never get sick of it. Over and over and over and over, I will read Wuthering Heights. I'll read it a million times and never totally get it, and I'll notice something new every time. I love this book.

The City of Dreaming Books Walter Moess This book was pretty freaking weird. The imagery was pretty brilliant, though, and I appreciate the creativity of a fellow bibliophile. The illustrations are completely charming.

The Mists of Avalon Marion Zimmer Bradley is vast and beautiful and cobwebby. Reminds one of one's feminist roots. Reminds one to deconstruct the framework of mythology, love, power, religion.

The Twilight Saga (Stephanie Meyer) Questionable in so many (many. many.) ways, and yet I read the entire series in 2 weeks. Reminds one that sometimes a story is a story and maybe you should stop thinking about it so much and just focus on wanting to bone the vampire.

Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka) Maybe Kafka is over my head? Exoskeleton.

The Portable Dorothy Parker I cannot stop with this book. I carry it around with me like I'm 16 and it's my goth girl journal. I love Dorothy Parker so much. If I could go back in time, I'd go straight to the Algonquin Round Table for a highball wearing a low-waisted dress and a fox fur scarf. Dottie and I would get drunk and be snarky to everyone and then we'd go out and act bad in high society. I'd explain that she should stop trying to kill herself because I'm from the future and know that she'll never actually manage it. It would be rad!

That was fun! Maybe I'll blog about books more.


1 comment:

Cabbage said...

Children should never be allowed to read anything except Little House on the Prairie and Nancy Drew.