Town

Since we're fun party animals, yesterday we went to town to hit the library book sale, Wal-Mart, the mall and the LoneStar for steaks, sans dancing. And also to pick up my truck from where I'd left it the night before when I'd had a seizure at work and Lori had to pick me up and take me home.

The library book sale is one of the mainstays of our year. They sell off roomfuls and roomfuls of books for $1 each for hardcover and $o.50 for paperbacks. Right off the bat, I found about 15 that I wanted. I asked the library ladies, who were stylishly arrayed in powder blue vests that matched their powder blue hair rinses, if there was some place I could stash them while I kept shopping. One of them gave me a box and a "sold" sign to set on my box. Okay...not my box, although that's sold too. But there's no reason the library ladies need to know that.

So I went back to my shopping, and Lori and I gathered up another dozen or so books that we wanted, then went to check out.

My box was gone.

AAAAAHHHH!!!! I said, in my most distraught voice, "What happened to my books?" And the library ladies looked at each other and said, "Oh. We probably gave them to that man. We thought they were his."

"That man" had already stolen my box of books and headed home. Bastard. Book-stealing bastard. I stood there, looking forlorn, and babbling about how excited I was to have found the new John Irving for $1, and how much I'd been looking forward to my new books. The library ladies kept exchanging glances, probably some kind of signal for "She's crazy. Call the police."

Finally, one of them remembered that the book-stealing bastard had paid with a check, and maybe his phone number was on the check. It was. One of them called, and Mrs. Book-Stealing Bastard apparently hemmed and hawed for a few moments on the phone, then agreed to send Mr. BSB back with MY stolen box of books.

The Library Lady closest to me, who was about 300 years old and desperately trying to stave off my near-meltdown, said to me, "If this were a romance novel, that man would bring back your books and you'd laugh about this with him and discover that he was your One True Love."

I shot the bitch where she stood.

No. Not really. Really I said, "That's my One True Love over there.", pointing at Lori. "I just want my books back."

Eventually he came back, with a somewhat depleted box of books. I pawed through them for a minute; there were a few less than I'd put in there, but the John Irving was there and a bunch of mysteries, so I thought it was probably good enough. We paid and left, another book sale crisis averted.

Next we went to the mall for haircuts. Mine is easy: #4 clippers all the way around and a little more than that on the top. I always ask the girl du jour if she's ever cut Asian hair, and she always looks at me warily and says, "yes?"

I'm not Asian, but for some reason, my hair is. It's black, thick, and absolutely, completely straight. It grows out of my skull exactly perpendicularly to the point of attachment, like a KooshBall. So there's always a danger that in the hands of a bad haircutter I'll either LOOK like a KooshBall, or if they cut it too short, like those oranges-studded-with-cloves that little children make in school for their moms every Fall. Either way, I will look like neither a Hot Butch Lesbian nor a Laboratory Professional.

So she did a good job on my hair and laughed at my jokes and I was pleased. But three feet away, unbeknownst to me, Lori was NOT pleased. Her hair girl was busy anxiously hacking the shit out of her hair, which moments before had been girl hair. Now it was gender-ambiguous hair, and in another 30 seconds it was going to become Marine Gunnery Sergeant hair.

Lori finally said, "Stop cutting!" And tried to direct her more specifically towards her hair goals.

Kid wasn't having any of it. She stood with the scissors in her hands and looked like she was headed for a panic attack, until Lori said, "That's good enough. I'll stick with this." and got out of the chair.

Eventually, we bought some undies, ate some meat, and headed home. Without the truck. See why we never go to town? We're not good at it.

The Book Meme

This is all so sudden and unexpected. I've never been memed before. I was unprepared! I don't have a thing to wear! We love CUSS, and we're terribly flattered to be tagged ...

Total number of books owned:

As Ev said, it's into the thousands. I should know, because I'm the one who packs the boxes when we move. The box count when we moved from Arizona was somewhere around 100 and we've bought a ton of new ones since then. We categorize our bookshelves by hard-bound, paperback, read it and haven't read it yet ... then we subdivide those into categories like reference, politics, lesbiana, biographies, mysteries, general fiction, hobbies and crafts, classics, antique books, sociology, comparative religions, humor ... etc. My books tend to be non-fiction and Ev's tend to be novels.

Last book bought:

"A Thousand Splendid Suns" - Khaled Hosseini. I bought this one two days ago because we both loved The Kite Runner and we've heard glowing reviews of this one.

Five Books that Mean a Lot to You:

1. "Through the Looking Glass - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" - probably the first book that completely belonged to me, and I still love it.

2. "Red Ranger Came Calling" - Berkeley Breathed. Absolutely, hands down, the best Christmas book ever written, with the best illustrations ever drawn. I have to read it every year, and it should really be read aloud to be truly appreciated ... if you can read the last page without choking up. If I had a million dollars, I'd buy a copy of this book for everyone I know.

3. "When God Was a Woman" - Merlin Stone. Prior to this book I was a struggling heterosexual and a backslid Christian. Now I'm a cynical agnostic and a happy, devout lesbian. I'd say it was an influential read.

4. A three book set containing "Soul Mates," "The Care of the Soul," and "The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life" - Thomas Moore. Three books I go back to over and over again and recommend frequently to other people. Moore is former Jesuit priest who writes about theology, spirituality, mythology, religion, the human soul and all of its relationships. Sounds a whole lot drier than it is.

5. "Winnie The Pooh" - A. A. Milne. There's nothing I don't love about this book. My favorite chapter is the one In Which Eeyore Loses A Tail and Pooh Finds One.

Best Five Books You Read in the Last Year:

1. "The Kite Runner" - Khaled Hosseini

2. "Pope Joan" - Donna Woolfolk Cross

3. "Dry" - Augusten Burroughs

4. "Running With Scissors" - Augusten Burroughs

5. "Schindler's List" - Thomas Keneally


I tag my pal, Cedarflame.

Kwach

Meming, the Verb

I've been sleeping a lot lately (don't ask), so I've fallen behind in my blog reading responsibilities as well as my blog writing responsibilities. However this, posted on CUSS inspired me:

The Book Meme
My beloved blog-friend Suebob tagged me for a meme on books. Hopefully, I will not be too boring.

Total number of books owned:
It's hard to tell. Between Husband and I, we have two overflowing bookcases. Books are also in piles on the floor and stacks on nightstands. Sometimes I think a book volcano erupted in my apartment and buried a small city. I also have two very tall book cases in my old room in my parents' house that are overflowing.

Last book bought:
For my Sept. 9th book club meeting, I bought San Remo Drive by Leslie Epstein on Sept. 6th. Nothing like the last minute, and I had to go to two Barnes & Nobles to find it.

Last book read:
See above. It was a very strange book about Hollywood in the 1950s, HUAC, adolescence, and race and religion based on the author's life. I partly recommend it. Overall, I think I liked it, but it was also kind of fucked up. I think our next book is going to be This Book Will Save Your Life by AM Homes. I'm pretty excited about it. Not that this relates to the question.

Five Books that Mean a Lot to You:
It by Stephen King - this book is a beautiful story about friendship, courage, and growing up when it is not scaring the fucking crap out of you, dear reader
Sport by Louise Fitzhugh - a hilarious tale about family and friendship that I often re-read when I am seeking solace from the world
Backlash by Susan Faludi - I read this when I was a sophomore in high school and it absolutely changed the way I looked at the world and re-affirmed my burgeoning feminist belief system
Take a Nap Harry by Mary Chalmers - a picture book my mom read to me that I loved because I hated naps and my mom read it in the greatest way (sadly it is out of print now)
Savage Inequalities by Jonathon Kozol - another book I read in high school that inspired me to take action to make the world a better place, I was devastated at how the US systemically cheats poor kids

Best Five Books You Read in the Last Year (I wish I can remember what the hell I read over the past 12 months, but I'll do my best):
Winner of the National Book Award by Jincy Willet
Sweet and Low by Rich Cohen
The Intuitionist by Colson Whitehead
Strivers Row by Kevin Baker
Random Family by Adrienne Nicole LeBlanc (OK, I didn't actually read the book yet, but I've been meaning to do so for ages...)

I tag:Major Bedhead
Valerie
Urban Pedestrian
Michelle
Ev and Kwatch

Besides the fact that I've completely fucked up the formatting (sorry Suzanne), I, of course, have opinions, comments, and answers. That's what it means to be me.

Books, quantity.
Millions. Billions. Actually, I'm not sure. We have several floor to ceiling bookcases in our house, and 70 more boxes of books in the shed that I would like to put in the house, but I can't imagine where. So when I want a specific book, I go out to the shed and spend a couple of hours crawling around the mountains of boxes until I get distracted by something else and just sit there and read that. It's all good.

Books, 5 Favorites, in no particular order:
I hate you, Suzanne. I just want you to know that in advance. I'm trying to scroll through my head and pick out five, but it's hard and I blame you.

1. To Kill a Mockingbird. by Harper Lee
My all time favorite, bar none. I've read it almost every year since I was a teenager. It's my comfort book; the book I go back to when I'm sick or stressed to the end of my endurance.

2. The Family Tree by Sheri Tepper
Tepper writes sci-fi with a feminist slant. This was about when plants become sentient, and BOY are the pissed off. RoundUp, anyone?

3. The Fresco by Sheri Tepper
Aliens come to earth and they'll only communicate with a working-class book store employee who's in the process of divorcing her alcoholic husband. The Pentagon is outraged that the aliens can't figure out who's important and who isn't.

4. Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende
I chose this one, but really they're all wonderful. She is the best ever at drawing you in. I'm always afraid to set them down before I finish because I'm so immersed in the characters, I'm afraid I'll talk like them. And 15th century Doña is not a good sound on me.

5. Mystery Novels by Everyone
I love 'em. Devour 'em like Combos. I hardly care who writes them (except a couple of writers who truly suck raw eggs. You know who you are, lousy writers.).

5 that I've Read This Year.

1. The Kite Runner
2. Running With Scissors.
3. Wicked & Son of a Witch
4.Saving Fish From Drowning
5. Stiff-The Curious Life of Human Cadavers

And now I've got to run or I'll be late for my neurology appointment. And that would be very bad.

However, I'll tag
Carrie,
Robin (you'll have to reply here, but I'll bump you up to Guest Blogger status),
Kwachie,
Aunt B.,
Ursula's Mom

I'll provide the links later, but I have to get into the shower NOW and get to the doctor, before my brain falls out my ear.

Attention!...(It's Not Just For Soldiers Anymore.)

Okay, this is what I've noticed about attention:

If the average person has X units of attention in their attention reservoir, the way they choose to divide it has a characteristic look to it at certain times of their life.

Say that we each have 100 units of attention. During the early parenting years, 95 of them are spent on kids, 5 spent on spouse, none spent on ourselves. Later, as the kids get older, 50 of them are spent on kids, 30 are spent on spouse, and 20 are tentatively spent on ourselves...but we feel guilty the whole time.

So finally the kids are grown. Suddenly your daily allotment of attention units are up for grabs, and it becomes a little mini-crisis to decide how to use them. Suddenly free will has come back into your life...and you freak out.

Which is why, in your mid '40s, you decide that you need to put in a half acre garden and become a combination of Bob Villa and a New York Times book reviewer. Because the precious commodity of attention units are languishing unused on your mental shelf, and you're afraid that if you don't take them down and exercise them, they'll go the way of all your other unexercised parts.

Balance. That's the objective. Write that down, Lori.

Even Saints Get the Day Off Occasionally

Yay! It's my day off! Again!

However, I did get up at the the ungodly hour of 7 am, so I have the rosy glow of moral rectitude with supplemental eye bags. Unfortunately, I have time-sensitive projects to attend to, mostly taking Lori's car in for it's pre-window replacement consultation with the convertible-top replacement specialist. I'm absolutely certain, by the way, that they make this convertible-top recovery project as intricate and solemn as possible, so you'll feel that the obscene costs associated with it are justified.

But we'll pay it. Like convenience store owners being shaken down by mob thugs for protection money, we can recognize the immorality of it, and pragmatically fork over the cash. After all, we need the car so we can continue to go to work to earn more money to pay for more things that will allow us to continue to go to work to earn more money...

So that's the "gotta" part of my day. And since I'm all about the carrot and stick, there is, of course, a reward in store. My reward for being a good car-repairing girlfriend is that I'm going to come home and find my box of unread books in the shed. I keep looking at our woefully uncrowded bookshelves, hoping that during the night the Book Fairies have replaced all the "done"books with new, virgin books. However, one of the sad realizations of life is that virginity can never be restored, either to books or to people. Not that Whoredom doesn't have it's own unique advantages...

Which reminds me...Lori and I figured out one of the great biblical mysteries. Remember the bible story about Jesus feeding all the hungry people with a loaf and a fish? In a flash of revelation, I realized the other day that that story is actually an exhortation from Jesus to loaf and fish!

That's right! Jesus wants us to take more days off and spend them fishing! There's no longer any need to feel guilty...we're in accordance with God's will. This will probably buy us back some points for the whole lesbian thing.

Anyway, that's enough bible study for one day. The important message here is...our Book Fairies suck, and I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands. I've got Son of a Witch in a box of hastily packed books, and I'm going to ferret it out (but with less ferrets...the cats are plenty, thank you). And then, Good Lord willing and the creeks don't rise, I plan to piddle away the afternoon reading in the backyard and grilling some dead animal product for my hardworking non-day-off sweetie.