The 48-hour Reading Challenge!

...or, well, not exactly 48 hours...more like...I dunno, eight to twelve? A bit more?

So I'm going to do this thing over. With rules this time.

I went into it sort of half-assedly. I read the page with the announcement and guidelines, and talked to Elise about her experience doing the same thing on her own, and stocked up with Smart Ones, Lean Cuisines, and 100-calorie packs so I wouldn't have to cook at all during the weekend. I selected ten or so way overdue library books (bad me. BAD LIBRARIAN!)--perhaps a little optimistic, but I wanted backups in case I didn't like the one I was reading, and I didn't want to waste time rifling through my collection deciding on another, because I would most likely take gobs of time doing that...and I wanted to spend my time reading, goldurnit! (Almanzo Wilder said that in Farmer Boy, and he was so ashamed of himself. *sigh*...I need a Little House reading weekend...and a Judy Blume...and a Beverly Cleary...and an L.M. Montgomery...and a Maeve Binchy...)

So I had my little stack, and my foodstuffs, and Neil was all kinds of supportive of it. I was planning on starting Friday night after dinner, maybe 8:00 or so.

This was my first mistake. Next time, I am STARTING AT A CONCRETE HOUR. None of this "whenever I get settled in" crap.

Because, you see, my sister came over to work with Neil on her website. And I thought I could just go in our bedroom, lay on my tummy on the bed, put a pillow at the foot to rest my arms in and put the book in front of the pillow (I have a definite system for reading in bed) while she was there. But did I retreat? Oh, no. Lily is much too fun! I stayed up with her and Neil until we were all yawning and fighting sleep...we chatted and looked through catalogs and laughed at recent familial hilarity and so on. And it was a great Friday night! I regret none of it.

But, it didn't start my 48-Hour Weekend Reading Challenge off well. I tried to read a bit after she left, though I was dog-tired...but instead I fell asleep on the couch for two hours. I stumbled into the bedroom (teeth unbrushed and unflossed), contacts clinging to my eyeballs voraciously, and set the alarm for 7:30.

Saturday included a necessary errand--taking my car into All-Star Automotive for alignment and to get a re-issue of my inspection, which had failed miserably last Saturday due to the huge crack in the windshield that was TOTALLY STARTED when I bought the car but I didn't notice because it was right on the windshield-wiper line, and when I called Toyota a month later, they refused to believe me so I had to pay out of pocket for the whole replacement. But I'm not at all bitter or ANYTHING. Anyway...we dropped off the car, then stopped in Barnes & Noble where I accidentally purchased the last issue of Simple Scrapbooks (it is a Collector's Item, people! how could I not?) and a British scrapbooking magazine encased in plastic which was apparently enough to warrant its $11.95 price tag. I know from experience that the Brits SUCK at scrapbooking, but when I see everyday British magazines on sale at B&N I often cannot help myself. Because despite not having the very, very best of times there, I do miss an awful lot about England. (And NOT just Harry Potter's wang, I swear. I also miss living on the same street that Rent was playing.)

Okay, so we go back home, and putter around a bit, and I shriek "I am going to start reading at 10! If I don't make a time, I'll *never start*!" I set up my station in the bedroom, all windows open to let in the RIDICULOUS 73-degree July air, and cracked open Alphabet Weekends.

I like books with multiple perspectives, a la Maeve Binchy, and this promised to be such a book.

And I was liking it all right. But not loving it, you know? And I wanted to love something, especially if I was committing to this read-all-day thing. I hadn't had that in awhile. I was also reading Inkheart at work, a chapter a day during lunch because it mostly sucks but I want to give it a chance, listening to The Host on audiobook in the car on the way to work, and was about seventy pages into Then We Came to the End (cool cover, look!)

...but I hadn't been as happy with it as I thought I would. I'm not giving up on it, yet, but it's just not a super-fun read.

So I put aside Alphabet Weekends for the time being, and took up an epistolary....because I loooooooove epistolaries!! This one, Which Brings Me to You, was the ticket:

Couldn't put this sucka down. Billed as "a novel in confessions," it tells what amounts to a backwards love story. But instead of flashbacks, the hero & heroine tell their backstories to each other through letters, just after they've met for the first time--both hoping to meet again. Almond and Baggott are co-authors, and [I assume] Almond wrote the guy's letters, and Baggott the gal's. I read this through the rest of Saturday, finishing right before 2:00 Sunday morning.

Okay, but it wasn't like I read solidly through Saturday, as I'd wanted to. No, there were plenty of Bejeweled breaks, WordTwist pauses, Guitar Hero moments, Google Reader, e-mail, Facebook, and Twitter checks (yes, I rejoined...I'm probably following you if you're on there, so follow me back so we can dish!)...I think I watched some TV, and I *know* the Golden Girls made an appearance for an hour or so. Or an hour and a half, or perhaps two. (Between Blanche's sass and Sophia's constant need for independence despite the handicap of old age, I really can't control them.)

Sunday was much like Saturday, except I was reading a different book: Pretty Little Mistakes.

I was kind of wary about it, but mostly excited. A "do-over novel," with "one beginning, 150 endings: the choice is yours." And, at 504 pages, this isn't one of those dog-eared slim Bantam books of yore:

(Not that this is, either...I just liked the photoshopped cover.)

What I soon discovered was that this adult version of the old Choose Your Own Adventure-style books was depressing. Each of the 150 endings (well, I'm assuming "each" since I'm not done yet--I'm probably halfway through but I have NO IDEA how many pages I've read and this is EXACTLY why the kid versions drove me crazy because my neurotic self MUST read EVERY SINGLE page, every option, before I can consider the book "done") tells how you die, and while some are, I guess, *meant* to be nice (i.e. You live to the very old age of 102, surrounded by family and friends, and heaven is a opalescent meadow filled with all the loved ones who preceded you in death), some are terrible, like being randomly stabbed in the street by a schizophrenic. No matter how pleasant the book makes death sound, I still hate hate hate reading about it. Someone just died in The Host, and after sobbing through pretty much most of the last half of HP7 in the car, I am SO DONE with sad or depressing things in books. DONE. (Of course, I cry All The Time while reading L.M. Montgomery, but somehow it's different.)

And? The crap you get yourself into (yeah, it's second person...another mark against it, as far as I'm concerned) is insane. In-SANE. Bordering on ridiculous, in many cases (practicing voodoo in Iceland? Running across a football field at halftime nude with meat strapped to your chest?). I soooo almost put this book down, several times. It's to the point now where I'm interested enough to keep reading, far enough along where I might as well just finish off the damned thing already, and somehow, begrudgingly, liking it.

Okay, so final tally from the weekend: About one and a half books. Not terrible, but definitely not what I'd hoped from it. So I've decided, I'm doing this again...because I really didn't make it a challenge at all. I stopped often to pursue other leisure activities, and it ended up just being a weekend where I read a lot.

Next time: No internet. No TV. No video games. No phone (not that I'm a phone talker...but it's the principle of the thing, people). Start at a pre-arranged time Friday night, and don't deviate. And maybe put some shorter, YA-level books in the mix, like the copy of I Love You, Beth Cooper that just arrived from PaperbackSwap, or really do have a whole weekend dedicated to a single author. Log hours more thoroughly, as well as pages read.

Maybe in the next few weeks, I'll be able to. The report is forthcoming...and let's hope it encompasses more than a book and a half.

Ideas are rampant...

...but free time is not. I have a list in my planner (I am SORT OF REGULARLY keeping up with a planner, you guys!! Can you believe it? It's only taken 32 years!) of 'things I want to blog about,' (y'all, I still need to recap our NKOTB concert! I started it, but life got in the way) but until I choose to make time to cover those topics, it'll be more of this:

Ten things about the last 24 hours that didn't suck

1. Kicked some ACE last night drumming, with Neil on guitar, on Guitar Hero World Tour. I love that it's a game about collaborating to get through the level, rather than competing against each other! (And I'm totally competitive, so this is a coup for me.)

2. Made a delicious, filling, and VERY WW-friendly dinner last night: soft tacos with seasoned ground turkey, fat-free refried beans (with chiles & lime), reduced fat sour cream, WW shredded cheese, taco sauce, and fresh salsa. I should make this a staple--I love it every time. And I have no desire for *anything else* all evening when I make it!

3. Neil got up with me this morning, which is always so darling. I love having his impossibly smiley face around before I leave for work!

4. I found Chris Harrison's Twitterfeed, Jillian's blog, and Chris' EW blog this morning. Yay for juicy Bachelorette inside scoops! (Sorry to see Reid go, but at least the Men Tell All is next week!)

5. I've been slogging away at this miserable cart of materials at work...a cart that I thought would take me maybe half a day, escalated into almost a full week. Ugh ugh ugh. But this morning, I finished it with a flourish, and strolled it over for processing.

6. Another work-related pleasantry: I'd been putting off my boss' suggestion to e-mail this cataloging list-serv for advice on a quandary we're having on Dewey numbers, because I was afraid I'd get back negative or condescending responses from some of the more pompous catalogers. I finally bit the bullet and posted this morning, and within half an hour, received five very nice and helpful pieces of advice (and only one slightly douchey e-mail). I forwarded the best idea to my boss, she loved it, and something I was dreading for weeks has suddenly been resolved.

7. I fully and completely updated my planner today. I mentioned above I only *sorta* keep up with it, so when I get my act together and update everything, it feels good.

8. Fake WW is going awesome--I'm not hungry, I'm not yearning for anything horrible for me, and I've made a resolution to stick with this every day until our StL/Chicago trip next month, when I'll take a couple days off (there ain't nothing at Portillo's you can get and stay within points allowance).

9. It's Bastille Day, which always reminds me of the Place de la Bastille, where my hostel was in Paris. Which was actually a shitty, rainy little trip, but it did have its moments. Pere Lachaise was my favorite.

10. My car needs its plates renewed at the end of this month, which has turned into a big dumb hassle since there's a big crack in my windshield, and during the inspection, the people reported that my alignment was all off--which I could totally feel on the highway every day. Because of this, my tire treads were rubbed slick, 20,000 miles before they were really supposed to be replaced. SO, this month we'll need to have all four tires replaced, my alignment fixed, my windshield replaced, the car inspected, and the plates renewed. I made an appointment today for the windshield replacement, and everything else is almost ready to be taken into the DMV...so this source of irritation is *almost* over.

*bonus* 11. Facilities finally visited my cubicle area to check on the vent, and indeed, it was 'up a little high.' So maybe I won't get so warm each afternoon, yay!



Hm...my desk is pretty dusty. Time to get out the can of air! (LOVE those things!)

I've skipped June entirely!

....but it was SO crazy. So it's okay.

A virtual (and perhaps soon, IRL) friend, Mel, posts a weekly "Randoms" entry on her blog...which is basically what I do ALL the time, but I like that she makes it a habit. So even though *this* entry is a tiny bit linear, I want to make the "Randoms" entries more of a feature, instead of just saying "Um....I don't really have a point here, so here's a bunch of stuff on my mind/what's been going on."

1. June 2-4 was spent in a GORGEOUS, three-room hotel suite at Tan-Tar-A in Osage Beach. Our room was three flights up (no elevator!) but the view, and the swank, was totally worth it. oh, and it was free, so that was DOUBLE worth it. :) The conference was absolutely wonderful, the weather mild, and the outlet mall pleasing. The first night, Brandy and I went out after the keynote speaker (he completely rocked), buying a box of wine (i.e., a box containing 6 bottles of wine, not a boxed wine) from Hy-Vee. We used their cold water wine-cooler thing, and it was way nifty! I chose my favorite white wine from Summit Lake Winery, plus a cute pink polka-dot-bottle Riesling, and, to keep things classy, a $4 metal bottle of Beaujolais with a dot that changes color when it gets cold. That's right--like Coors. We drove through some decidedly unhealthy places to bring dinner back, met Neil in the lobby, and ate in front of the glass walls, amazed at the utter deluge of rain that suddenly came upon the region. Then we trooped up to Brandy's room in the maze that was her hotel wing, Cindy joining us, to partake of the wine.

The next day was the full conference day--normally the kind of thing where I'd be plagued with social anxiety and wondering who I'd sit with and afraid I'd have to eat lunch alone and feeling out of place wandering about alone. But with all of my FABULOUS co-workers joining us for the entire day, I needn't have worried! I've never been surrounded by so many folks who make me feel so comfortable in a work environment. We hung out all day, various folks splitting off into their sessions, reuniting for lunch and breaks, and generally having a great time. The sessions themselves were surprisingly informative, but I'm not sure how much you want to hear about how much I learned about Authority Control or What's New In Cataloging.

That evening, everyone took off, but I was staying one more day for post-conference training. Neil and I visited the outlet mall, grabbed some snacks from Wal-Mart, and ate some nasty, congealed hotel-Sbarro's pizza for dinner.

2. The next event was the day after we returned to Columbia--my 32nd birthday! We had a leisurely morning, then set off for StL at around 2:30 for the weekend. We grabbed Taco Bell for an early dinner and took it in with us at the hotel--a $67-a-night Marriott in Westport Plaza--what a deal! After a little while (and a nap!), we got dressed and headed to the Fox for a night I'd been looking forward to for a YEAR. I was so, so, so excited! Just seeing the familiar weird pyramid-ish structure of junk metal and bicycle tires and mannequin heads onstage was enough to make my heart beat faster. Neil had never seen Rent, and I was so hoping he'd like it...I've *never* taken anyone who hasn't. It was the signed performance, which could have been really interesting....except my eyes were only for Adam and Anthony. This was the Broadway Tour, which meant the cast was pretty much the same cast as the one that had closed the show on Broadway last fall (except Mark and Roger, of course)...in other words--AMAZING. By far, the best cast I'd ever seen together. Angel was astoundingly energetic, and added in little things here and there I'd never seen before. Andy Senor, London's Angel, returned here for a lesser chorale role. No one can compare to Jesse L. Martin or Taye Diggs, but Collins and Benny weren't at all bad. (Oh, and I learned something--I overheard someone saying weekend matinees were when understudies usually step in for shows like this. Duly noted, stranger-girl behind me in the bathroom line!)

...Whoa, sorry for geeking out there. It was a great, great night.

The next day, we went first to Panera for breakfast (egg and cheese souffle, whoo), and then stopped at a Trader Joe's. Then was the Galleria, after which Neil dropped me off at Emily's for some girl-and-Noah time. He spent a few hours in Vintage Vinyl at the Delmar Loop, while I enjoyed myself catching up with the Southerlands and taking a sun-dappled walk over to The Cupcakery for Indulgence Time (also, I could watch Noah play in the fountain for HOURS). And they had the cookies. Oh, Frosted Sugar Cookies, why must you be so perfect? I refrained from eating anything then, because our next plans required an empty stomach--meeting Neil at the Loop for dinner at Fitz's. Fried pickle slices...fresh grape soda...and the Chili Frito Burger. You can't even eat that thing with your hands. For real. And forget eating any of the fries. The only way your tummy can have room for those is if you sample them first. And you know me, I'm a one-thing-at-a-time eater.

Next, Neil and I said our goodbyes and headed to Star Clipper for a short stop to get us some Kasoogi Uglydolls, and were glad to lurch into our hotel room shortly thereafter to recover from the day.

Sunday was another gorgeous day (the weather is always perfect on my birthday, without fail), and we slept in a bit, then packed up, checked out, and spent a little while at our favorite side-by-side stores: R.E.I. for Neil, The Container Store for me. One last stop at the Galleria for California Pizza Kitchen (we both got pepperoni--you may say that's against the rules, but I'm telling you, their pepperoni is AWESOME), and we headed home to Columbia.

3. The next five days were spent working and preparing--for the big trip, a week in Oak Island, North Carolina with the Dazets. We left Saturday morning, traveling to Knoxville the first night and the rest of the way on Sunday.


Actually, you know what? I'm saving this one. Because I actually have pictures for it.

So, to be continued...hopefully sometime during the upcoming awesome 3-day weekend! And STEVE is gonna be here! Yay for brothers!

A sprinkling of et cetera, a dash of romance

1. I'm very picky about strawberries, but I LOVE them. And I'm not a big fan of fruit in general, so when I find one I like, I try to have it as much as possible when it's at its best; i.e. strawberries RIGHT NOW. But I can't stand a single imperfect patch on them...and I don't mean just those nasty white fuzzy areas that everyone cuts off. Even the slightly darker-colored soft spots that they get simply by resting against the plastic in the container or another strawberry, means I have to perform Berry Surgery. Whenever anyone serves cut-up strawberries, for shortcake or whatever, it throws me off because I can't do my usual inspection without looking rude.

2. I'm on my second-to-last weekend at Stephens, and it is d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g. This May has five weekends in it, and with the finish line so close, everything feels slow. Days at MOSL don't usually pass this sluggishly (unless it's Friday afternoon). It may have something to do with the fact that my Stephens office has huge windows overlooking this unspeakably cute bricked courtyard below with sun streaming through the trees arching above everything, whereas at MOSL we aren't really near windows at all so I have no idea what spring weather I'm missing. Which would normally be depressing, but my co-workers are such joys that it matters not.

3. Lily's dance recital was last night (and will be tonight). Sarah went with me, Dad, and Gilbert last night, and it was two and a half hours of Lily looking gorgeous, Lily looking adorable, and Lily taking my breath away. There were also the usual round-up of tiny, tiny 5-year-old girls and boys performing VERY cursory 'dance moves' to 1950s songs (i.e., "Book of Love") in their fluffy, tulle-ey sequined dance outfits (sequined vests and black shiny pants for the boys--

oh I just need to tell you one thing...in the aforementioned "Book of Love," during the "Chapter" verses, the little boy was, contrary to usual little boys in these types of dances, REALLY good. He went down the line of his four tiny girl co-dancers at each 'Chapter'--

Chapter One says to love her
You love her with all your heart
[tiny boy bows to first tiny girl, tiny boy moves on]
Chapter Two you tell her you're
Never, never, never, never, never gonna part
[tiny boy and second tiny girl vehemently shake their heads at each other like 'no no no no no no no no no', tiny boy moves on]
In Chapter Three remember the meaning of romance
[tiny boy links arms with third tiny girl and turns a circle with her, tiny boy moves on]
In Chapter Four you break up
But you give her just one more chance
[tiny boy spins fourth tiny girl]

I mean, at this age group, the most these dance teachers can hope for is a boy who will just stay in the line, much less one who Does The Actual Dance Steps. He was awesome. TOTAL player.

Once upon a time, I would have never loved this performance, as cute as it was, because my 8th grade boyfriend broke up with me in a note quoting the lyrics. It was, in my little world, devastating);

Paul Pepper and Uncle James creepily looking on from the audience (okay, I'm projecting the creepiness--and yeah, when Dad told me last night that 'Pepper & Friends' was being yanked from the air, I was a TEENSY bit sorry for them); at least one song I couldn't help dancing and singing along to (this year's pick: RuPaul's "Supermodel." YOU BETTER WORK); one instance of Lily bringing me to tears (happens every time, pretty much); and last but infinitely not least, several very unflattering dance costumes. I do love to dance, but I'm glad I don't have to stand in front of hundreds of people in velvet stretchy pants and a tight halter top every May.

4. I started pseudo-Weight Watchers on Thursday, and I think it's going well. I feel like I'm forever looking for a short-cut solution to weight loss, but I always come back to the WW philosophy. Yep, it sucks to be hungry...it sucks to have to leave the cheese off everything and be astounded at how small a serving really is, and to select the blander-tasting snack food (fat-free pretzels, yuck!) knowing you'd just eat the whole damned box of White Cheddar Cheez-Its within two days if you bought THAT one. And I'd completely planned on joining back in January, before our finances became really tight. Now, I've just done some research to find what points I should be at, how much activity I should be doing, and found an online calculator so I always know where I am at for my points totals during the day. And it's working fine. Boom, saved $20 a month!

5. I've been kind of half-ass following this blog, Starting Over at 24, written by this dude who broke up with his girlfriend after six years and has to start over in the dating world. I like cute little romance novels, so I'm always on the look-out for blogs that follow real-life adventures as a singleton because it's so cool to see where they end up (so let me know if you follow any, too!). And sure enough, SO@24 got a visit from an internet correspondent (and blog-follower), Beth, not long ago, and they apparently had a ridiculous weekend together...both are completely giggly and excited for what may happen next and planning for MANY future visits (they're on opposite coasts--and they've already spent like three weekends together in the course of a month and a half or so) and it's just...so, so cute.

Anyway, this satisfying finale (and he's said he's ending the blog since he's pretty sure this is the ONE, so it really is a finale) made me regret so bad that I'd not had a blog (or done things the old-fashioned way with a pen and lined journal) around the time I met Neil. The way Beth writes about their first meeting makes me wish I'd captured those days in my life...not because I yearn for them, but because I was so giddy and out-of-my-head happy that I really *don't* completely remember every bit of how I was feeling, and I'd like to. I have little notes written down about what we did around town, what movies we saw, etc...but there's nothing like describing an event when the emotions are fresh and raw. Through the bad times this past year, and also when Mom was sick (and even junior year of high school, when she had brain surgery), I wrote things--blog/journal entries, e-mails to friends, etc., that I can't yet reread. When I have in the past, I break down. But I love that I *have* them.

And I wish I could re-visit how I felt that Friday afternoon (November 17, 2006), watching the clock at work, hightailing it out of Special Collections exactly at five and racing downstairs to release a few minutes of tension with Sarah, who was working at the Ref Desk, before heading home to shower and gussy myself up...a couple hours later, laying on the couch as the minute hand inched to the '12,' knowing he was due any minute. I mean...I remember the facts. I just wish I'd recorded my exact feelings, then and during the weekend, and the Sunday night after he'd left and I'd spent three hours gushing to some friends at the winery about the visit. And, like these two (Beth and SO@24) say over and over, I knew it may have sounded crazy to everyone else...but I knew it about Neil. I knew that if he'd have me, he was my One. After three days! I mean, I'd hoped for it, so bad, as had he, but we also both realized we couldn't know for sure until we had really met. And Beth's post about her feelings before the meet-up brought back so many memories of those doubts and fears and excitement and, finally, relief and unbelievable happiness.



I'm happy with the memories I have...I just wish I'd captured more in black and white.

Regulation Minutiae

1. Last night was AWESOME.

a. Neil picked us up Subway sandwiches. Tuscan Chicken: yum.

b. Idol finale from 7-8. Adam began the show by being HYDRAULICALLY LIFTED ONTO THE STAGE STAIRCASE in a long, totally sexy coat and big boots, backlit with dry-ice mist being pumped onto the stage like crazy, and dived into "Mad World" again. Even yummier than the sandwich.

c. GLEE from 8-9. Oh MAN it got me pumped. And Stephen Tobolowsky is ge-ni-US. I can't wait for the season!

d. And THEN, I switched it to the Cardinals game. We'd not been doing great lately, so when I saw we were playing the Cubs I didn't have my hopes up. But there we were....3-0, top of the 9th, and we watched long enough to see Piniero pitch an entire-game shut-out. He looked so fiercely happy about it!





2. Other things:


-I'd purchased a regular Pepsi and a Throwback Pepsi from Gerbes the other day, because someone else had done it at work and given us a blind taste test. I wanted to do the same for Neil, so I poured some of each into different glasses and told him to guess which was which. He tasted one...then the other...then the other...then the other and the other. His verdict:


"Well, they both taste the same now."








We are planning our trips this summer, and I'm having fun! Yesterday, I booked our so-close-to Busch-you-could-catch-an-out-of-the-park-home-run-ball hotel, and I'm taking Lily's advice and waiting until just before the game to get tickets from someone with good seats who can't use them. It's risky, and I don't generally do risky when it comes to planning, but NO seats on eBay or the official ticket site look good (and in our general price range) and dammit, I am GOING to see Eckstein up close. (We're seeing StL vs. Padres in August...it'll be sad not to see David in Cardinals-red, but I'm still hoping they walk him so I can see him run really fast to first even though he doesn't have to. Thurston does it too, but it's not really equivalent because he doesn't look like a little ball of flying cuteness in the same way. He's plenty attractive, but not at the Eckstein level.)



That one will be a whirlwind weekend: Friday night in StL for the game, leave Sat AM for Chicago, go see the Harry Potter exhibit, stay Sat night, see Neil's friends Sunday, then head home.



I've been reading my latest manuscript installments at about 100 pages a day, which seems, finally, to be a pattern I can work with. Even after seven years of it, I never seem to manage my reading time properly, so I'm always scrambling during the last couple days before they're due to be sent back plowing through hundreds of pages, tiredly writing B.S. reports, and rushing to the UPS store at the last possible moment. But even with bad manuscripts (which 9/10 of them are), 100 pages a day is never terrible. I use half my lunch hour and a few minutes at home, and it's done.



So: life's going pretty good. Lily dances this weekend (yay!), I'm off Monday, and then June begins with a bang a week later.

Aaaaaargh!!

It's not really a bad 'argh'...just an "Aw, man!" argh.

I just read about this awesome awesome thing from MotherReader...the Fourth Annual 48 Hour Book Challenge, where everyone who signs up reads constantly for that weekend (taking whatever breaks they want, but mainly focusing on the reading) and posting short blurbs/reviews about every book they read. The only requirements are that the books read be at or above a 5th grade reading level.

It sounds FABULOUS.

Only, it's June 5-7th, a weekend I already have mega-plans for...and even if I didn't have mega-plans for it, it's totally my birthday weekend and I'm not going to spend my birthday weekend holed up reading because there is Art in the Park and lovely family time and I could use that to make people play board games or Celebrity with me and take me out to Sophia's three times, at least. And a cookie cake from Hot Box Cookies, which did you know MAKES YOUR COOKIES WHILE YOU WAIT? Oh my freaking god. And it makes me sad that there will be no Art in the Park for me this year, because that is always Dad's present, to buy me something I pick out there, and I love it. But I have never had a getaway weekend for my birthday, and we did it for Neil a couple years ago--went to Chicago for IKEA and chocolate cake shakes at Portillo's and to see USA vs. Brazil play soccer and Ronaldinho was there (it's confusing because on the same team was Ronaldo, who is not as good but whose name is easier to pronounce, especially for a novice such as myself). And it was a FANTASIC trip. Except I made Neil miss the US's like, only goal because I was thirsty and he went to get me a bottle of water and himself a t-shirt and we scored. Did you know they won't give you the bottle tops to the water? Because people throw them onto the field too much? That's the stupidest thing ever. Like we don't have a billion other stuff in our purses we could throw down? I'd rather have a plastic bottlecap thrown at me than a mascara wand or some girl's used kleenex. Or fingernail clippings. GAG ME, I don't think there are many things grosser than fingernail clippings. But I am grossed out easily, so it's all pretty bad.

I have only had a little caffeine today, but I kind of feel like it has been more.

I am eating baby carrots and dip, and crunching the carrots always makes me feel tough and bad to the bone, like I am going to KICK your ASS with my TEETH so you better watch it. Except the name 'baby carrots' pretty much wimps it down.

So anyway, I wish I could do this fun challenge. I've never really participated in anything like it, but I've always wanted to...like read HP the weekend it comes out (never have, I always wait like a month), or go to the Crossword Puzzle Tournament or some kind of Set/Cross Sums/PathWords mash-up weekend somewhere (it doesn't exist, though) or a scrapbook crop or convention...just....something that I could devote an entire weekend to, and it would be awesome and I'd meet other total geeks such as myself who enjoy it, and we'd talk about it the whole weekend because come on, no one's husband wants to listen to their wife discuss the merits of chipboard letters vs. foam and how come the sticky backs never stay on the page like other adhesive letters do. That's one of the reasons I loved so much the weekend Emily and I spent almost *exclusively* scrapbook-shopping around St. Louis...we couldn't get sick of it, and we went crazy, and talked and talked and talked about what we liked and didn't like and wanted and hated and used, and spent far too much money (but not REALLY, because the WHOLE STORE WAS 75% OFF EVEN BASICGREY!), and it was exhilarating.

And I'm not saying an entire weekend devoted to 'pleasure reading' would be exhilarating. But I'd most definitely look forward to it, and I'd get everything all set up, like buy single-serving juices and finger sandwiches and pre-fill all the bottles of water I would need and mark off a space where I would be reading and blog about the things I read and see if anyone else would do it too, or if not, no big deal, and pick out the array of books I could choose from, being careful to include multiple genres and MOODS within genres (like, sassy chicklit, sassy sensual chicklit, sassy YA, naive YA, humorous fiction, celebrity memoir, clutter self-help, scrapbook idea books, etc) and turn off my phone and LOVE IT. And even though it would be tempting, I would not read anything I'd read before. Maybe that could be another weekend--Beverly Cleary weekend, or Judy Blume or LM Montgomery or Maeve Binchy or Nick Hornby or Lemony Snicket weekend.

It's weird, because although the idea of doing a single type of thing all weekend appeals to me, one of those 'TV Marathons' does NOT. It sounds depressing. And I am a huge fan of the TV! I just know I'd get so sick of it...even my Golden or Gilmore Girls, I fear, and that is a risk I shall not take. Also, I think I'd get too hung up on the 'not-being-at-ALL-productive' thing, and come to work Monday being ashamed to answer when people ask how my weekend went. "Awesome! I ate 5 bags of Baked Lays, an entire pan of brownies, and watched 100 episodes of Frasier straight through!" I mean, at least with reading, even if it's trashy, your mind works a bit. And that's more books I can put on my "Books Read" list (yes, I have a list. It is 66 pages long) and return to the library or put on Paperback Swap. And I might just come across a book that changes something about me, or how I think, in a good way, which happens once in a blue moon but is the most awesome feeling.


So maybe I'll just do it. My next free weekend is not for awhile, but it IS coming... (after May, I'm not working weekends anymore, and in June, we're traveling every weekend except the last one, when Steve will probably be here and he is TOO FUN FOR READING!) It'll be tough to resist the 'oh, no, things need to get done around the house or whatever' urges, but I think if I set aside a weekend ahead of time, and let myself look forward to it and prepare for it, it'll be a grand old time.





[statement at end of entry to give some dramatic space in between REAL last statement of entry and the time stamp/comments link.]

Happy Mother's Day!

PostSecret's Sunday Secrets were all about moms today....some were hilarious, some touching, some downright CRABBY! It made me think on why girls' relationships with their mothers are always so volatile...hot and cold...passionate, pissy, precious.

Is it because females are pretty much always a little catty around each other? I don't mean every second of every day, I just mean that I've certainly never had a relationship with another female where it's 100% happy and sunshiney every time we're around one another. Why are we inherently so...competitive? So embittered? And then the next minute/day/week, feel like that very same woman is the most fantastic creature to walk the face of the Earth?

As much as I'd love to think my mother and I got along our entire lives together when I look at the moon and wish her good-night, that simply wasn't the case. Here's a highlight:

When I was in...I don't know, 5th grade? I was living downstairs in what became Joe's room, and is now Gilbert's staging area. I was a SLOB. A slobby slobby slob. My room was a freakin' WRECK. I was probably officially supposed to clean it once a week or so, but I never did, and at that point, my parents didn't have a system in place for chores. One day, probably disgusted by the mess COMPLETELY COVERING my carpet, Mom and Dad gave me the bad news: I had until a certain time to completely clean my room, or Mom would come in with a garbage bag and throw out everything left on the floor. They gave me plenty of time; probably 2-3 hours to get everything done.

Did I mention that, along with the slobbiness, I was also an INSANE procrastinator, even then? I swear, my last name should have been "Dawdle" instead of "Dawson."

Anyway, so that day, I took a gander around the mess....decided it wouldn't take more than a few minutes, and commenced dilly-dallying. Read some Sweet Valley Twins...listened to Huey Lewis and the News' "Fore!" on my bitchin' record player...probably called Alena to ask what we should wear on Monday...you know, your basic 10-year-old Dream Afternoon. Then, with about seven minutes left in my Window of Clean-Up Time, I figured it was about time to start.

After five minutes, I realized I might not have left myself enough time.

I raced around the room, throwing things haphazardly onto my shelf system, shoving acid-washed denim into drawers, etc.

At exactly the deadline, Mom came in, armed with a black garbage bag. Without a word, she started tossing things left on the floor into the bag. My 3-D plastic red apple plastic puzzle I got at the last Children's House garage sale (it was a totally hard puzzle, believe me)...NUMBER TEN in the Sweet Valley Twins series...how would I LIVE without these things?!!

I could NOT believe she would DO THIS TO ME! They actually kept their threatening promise?!! They'd never been this harsh before! I figured...what did I figure? That they'd forget to follow through? That if I cried and begged enough, she would stop? Maybe so, because I cried and begged and grabbed stuff right out of her hands and tugged at the bag, etc., etc., generally being very obnoxious and bratty. She demanded I leave the room, but I stayed rooted to the spot, yelling and crying....eventually she somehow got me out the door, but I pushed the door open and would NOT let her complete the job. She finally shut the door, not seeing that my fingers were clinging to the jamb, and I HOWLED. I needed to make her feel TERRIBLE! And it totally didn't even hurt...she didn't slam the door, she just shut it, and it only pushed my fingers out of the way. But I figured if she *thought* she'd just slammed my fingers in the door, I could rescue my things. My precious, valuable things.

It didn't work. I vowed I would not speak to either of my parents, but especially Mom, for the Rest Of My Life. They would Completely regret this.


I'm not sure my vow lasted much longer than dinner that night.

That was kind of silly...other, later stories are a little more serious and squirm-inducing, and I look pretty crappy in them, (even more than in this one...but that's excused, cuz I was ten) so I won't relay them now. But I do wonder if daughters *always* have such a stormy relationship with their moms, or if most other women live a "Gilmore-Girls"-like existence, where, when asked to name their best friend, they smile and say "My mother. Truly." Or, is that really just fiction?

I don't mean to say Mom and I always butted heads, at all. We had wonderful chats almost every day I lived in New York...her packages and calls brought me to tears (happy ones, I-miss-home ones) throughout my semester in London...I always felt special and loved whenever she'd make an effort to visit me at Grinnell, or in the public library, or call to have lunch together at Main Squeeze. And I like to think that if she were here for all the wedding stuff, we'd be perfectly lovely together and stress-free, popping into a coffee shop in between trying on dresses downtown, then laughing as we dashed through the rain to My Secret Garden, taking a mosey through the gardens to decide on a perfect place for the ceremony, having a girly lunch with Lily after our Dawson-Women mani-pedis, etc.

But I bet be would have driven each other a little crazy, too. :)


I love you, my sweet mama! We'll be toasting you tonight. You take care...