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Monthly Archives: March 2017
I have a skewed system of favorite holidays. Thanksgiving has been my favorite for a few years, because it’s low maintenance. Oh, I cook. I cook my ass off. I cook for Johnny & I only, after some drama with his momma a few years back. In the interest of remaining Switzerland for him, I don’t visit my family, either. For the first couple of years running here, then rushing off to there definitely dampened my spirit-especially since I had two days of retail hell to look forward to immediately afterward. But now I stay in comfortable clothes, and the wine is open by eleven, music -just a little this side of loud- throughout the dining room and kitchen, and I’ve got the turkey in the oven. We may eat at two or we may eat at six. Last year, we had some friends stop in to help devour what I’d prepared and I felt like a normal adult, doing the thing. It’s the one time a year we eat at the table. My next favorite holiday is our anniversary (I get lilies delivered to work and dinner wherever I choose). Then my birthday (again, because I don’t have to cook), then…then… St. Patrick’s Day. Not Christmas. I love Christmas, I love the meaning and I love decorating for it but I don’t love how people tend to…
Buy it here I’m finished, I’m finished at last! Thank God Almighty, I’m finished at last. I can scarcely believe it’s true. Weeeeeeeks I have struggled with this book. Here was my first problem: I bought it on a whim, slightly intoxicated, while on vacation in Florida at an utterly charming and whimsical bookshop called Sundog Books. The proprietor was friendly, even though it was nearing closing time. I felt encouraged to stay, to linger, to peruse. I chatted with a local, thinking we were going to form a long distance book club, only to find out she was drunker than me when pressed to tell me her media handle. She had no Goodreads or Facebook account. So that ain’t gonna work. Anyway, the book is beautiful, the cover persuading me. I hadn’t given full price ($28.95!!!!!!!!) for a book in years, so I felt due. I was on vacation!!! Seize the moment and all that. I had it in my head this was a book about the military of days gone by, so I looked on here and Amazon for a synopsis. And opinions. Because the one star reviews are always honest. But I must have somehow skimmed over them, because I paid for the book and it rode in the backseat the duration of our vacation and journey home. It sat in my library, beautifully silver in tone, for months. I finally picked it up…
All Grown Up <<<your link to buy. Why can’t I DOOOOO this like everybody else??? Book of the Month finally got one right. So I loved this. It’s written in a conversational tone and you feel ~or I did, anyway~ like you’re having mimosas at brunch on Sunday with one of your single girlfriends. It’s refreshing in a way that it makes you feel okay to be in your thirties and not have your shit together. Usually chick lit is about girls in their twenties that don’t have their poop in a group and that’s okay~nobody expects them to. They only ask that you remain bright and opinionated and slightly slutty. In your thirties you get to be mad about it. “Her life is architected, elegant and angular, a beauty to behold, and mine is a stew, a juicy, sloppy mess of ingredients and feelings and emotions, too much salt and spice, too much anxiety, always a little dribbling down the front of my shirt. But have you tasted it? Have you tasted it. It’s delicious.” That’s me. That’s SO ME. {I changed my rating to five stars but wanted to include this. It deserved five, just because fours are seen as So. Much. Less. It’s not fair} It’s kinda written in short story form, which may have…
Jane Steele well, there’s supposed to be a picture there. That’s your link to buy, by the way. The book ends with these wise words (don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare spoil it for you!): “We tell stories to strangers to ingratiate ourselves, stories to lovers to better adhere us skin to skin, stories in our heads to banish the demons. When we tell the truth, often we are callous; when we tell lies, often we are kind.” That resonated with me, as I’ve always had a passion for the truth, and also why so many people can’t stomach me. Which is fine. I’m not gonna tell you I think your baby is cute (unless it really, really is. And they have to be something truly spectacular for me to remark upon it), or that you’ve a nice steed, or that you look good in that dress unless I really mean it. Naturally, this earns me more than a few enemies, as people are coddled and stroked and told all manner of lies all the livelong day. I went into this book thinking it was going to read like Jane Eyre had metamorphosized (WordPress doesn’t recognize that spelling, but I googled it to make sure I was correct) into Stephen King. Unfortunately, that is not the case. All of her are murders are SUPREMELY justified, if I do say so…
You may or may not have noticed I’ve taken a brief hiatus from this blogging thing for a few weeks. As some people post every day day, I may have taken liberty with the word brief. Well, whatever, I’m on here now. Here’s the thing: I dearly-as in truly, madly, deeply- love to write. But this blog sucks the enjoyment from it. I feel the need to have a topic, which was never an issue on Facebook, then the pressure of pictures-not just any ol’ snap-as-you-go shot, but a thoughtfully plotted and executed image that thoroughly summarized whatever the devil I’m waxing poetic about. Then the links. Dear Lord, the links. I’m an Amazon Affiliate, which means I get about half a cent from every dollar you spend on Amazon if you click via one of my oh-so-convenient links. You don’t have to buy what I’m advertising, but make your way to checkout from starting where I put you. I haven’t made one red cent yet, so y’all ain’t bought nothin’. And they’re firing me. Here’s the latest thing I want, in the event you feel sorry for me and want to buy me something to make me smile. http://amzn.to/2mfTTYp See, I don’t even know how to do it, it’s…
