The World According to Nancy

2011 Book #14: "Little Bee" by Chris Cleave

2011-08-24T15:40:00.000-04:00

Well, here we are 32 weeks into 2011 and I'm only on book 14. Oh crap. This is going to be a very book-heavy fall. Fear not, though. Last year, I started the month of December with only 40 books completed and by New Year's Eve, I was closing the cover on book 52 so I have full confidence in myself. Why are you doubting me?! It's irritating me.

Book 14 for 2011 was Little Bee by Chris Cleave. Another beautiful cover too. See?

I. Loved. This. Book. So much so that I followed each individual word with it's own period so you would know how serious I am about loving this book. The story was great, the characters were rich and complex, and the writing was so freaking brilliant. I was halfway through page two when I turned to my husband and said, "I. Love. This. Book." Seriously, you can ask him.

Here's the tough part: I can't tell you anything about it. I mean, I'd like to, but I really can't. I went into this story completely blind having absolutely no idea what the plot was about and I realized that's the way it was intended to be. Don't believe me? Then I'll leave you with this direct quote off the back of the book:

We don't want to tell you what happens in this book. It is a truly special story and we don't want to ruin it. Nevertheless, you need to know enough to buy it so we'll just say this:

This is the story of two women. Their lives collide one fateful day, and one of them has to make a terrible choice, the kind of choice we hope you never have to face. Two years later, they meet again--the story starts there...

Once you read it, you'll want to tell your friends about it. When you do, please don't tell them what happens. The magic is in how the story unfolds.

2011 Books #11, 12 & 13: Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich

2011-08-17T15:39:00.000-04:00

The next three books of 2011 were enjoyed by yours truly way back in June (so it took me two months to blog about them...deal with it!) and they were Lean Mean Thirteen, Fearless Fourteen, and Finger Lickin' Fifteen by Janet Evanovich (clever titles, no?). All three books are part of the Stephanie Plum series and, given that they fall later in the series--books 13, 14, & 15 to be exact (seriously, clever with the titles, no?)--I'm not going to offer specific summaries of each, because you'll be confused. And I'll probably ruin major plot points. And you'll get bored. So I'll just say this...

The Stephanie Plum series is like cotton candy for your brain: magically delicious, lacking any real nutritional value, and slightly embarrassing to admit that you still enjoy as an adult. In any case, I do like these books which explains why I've read somewhere in the ballpark of 5,000+ pages dedicated to these characters in the past 18 months.

A good friend suggested I give ol' Stephanie Plum a try last year during my first quest to read 52 books in a year and given my commitment to reading books that were out of my comfort zone and/or came recommended by friends, I decided to take her up on it. She was then kind enough to loan me the first 14 books in the series, making it really easy to keep devouring these books one after another. Here's the basic premise:

Stephanie Plum is an early-30's divorcee hailing from a hilarious, albeit dysfunctional, family in Trenton, New Jersey. When she loses her job as a clothing buyer, she does what any college-educated, recently divorced, slightly neurotic woman in need of quick cash would do: she becomes a bounty hunter. Hey, I prefaced this summary by likening these stories to cotton candy. I never said they were believable. Anyways, the books follow her suspenseful and outlandish adventures chasing down baddies and dealing with a slew of eccentric characters. I'd gladly recommend these books to anyone in need of some comical mindless entertainment, but I have a disclaimer. (See below)

Disclaimer: The true Stephanie Plum series is easily identified by the numbers in their title which corresponds with the order of the series (One for the Money, Two for the Dough, Three to Get Deadly, etc). A few years ago, Janet Evanovich decided to supplement her income (because apparently 17 bestselling novels isn't quite enough) by writing filler books with the word Plum in the title (Plum Spooky, Visions of Sugar Plums, etc). I've only read one of the "Plum" books and, if it's any indication of that quality of the rest of them, they're terrible! So read the numbered ones but skip the Plum ones, capiche?

Disclaimer 1a: The first book in the series is a little dark and pretty violent. The rest of the books in the series are far more light-hearted, but consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer 1b: These books are being made into a movie starring Katherine Heigl. If/when you see the movie, you will probably despise Stephanie Plum since, well, she'll be played by Katherine Heigl. No one consulted me on the casting of this film. I cannot be held responsible.

2011 Book #10: "The Postmistress" by Sarah Blake

2011-06-12T08:00:00.001-04:00

Book #10 this year is yet another New York Times bestseller: The Postmistress by Sarah Blake. I remember reading some good reviews about this book last year when it was released, but I didn't really think much of it. I mostly decided to read it because it just so happened to be available on the New Releases shelf at the library and the cover was really pretty. See?

Ooooh, ahhhhh. Pretty purple flower.

The book, set in the early years of World War II, follows the lives of three women: Iris James, the single 40's-something postmistress in the small Cape Cod town of Franklin, Massachusetts; Emma Trask, the young bride of the town's doctor; and Frankie Bard, a female American reporter stationed in London during the Blitz. Emma awaits the return of her husband from England where he's volunteering to care for bomb victims, Iris struggles with an ethical dilemma of which letters should and shouldn't be delivered, and Frankie fights to bring authentic war coverage back to the United States, where the nation seems indifferent about the tragedy happening across the Atlantic. The lives of these three women become loosely entwined as the war progresses.

First things first: this book made me cry. Essentially, that statement means nothing. I've been known to cry during particularly heartfelt commercials and episodes of Overhaulin', a car makeover show that my husband is obsessed with. That may seem absurd but there is something incredibly moving about watching an old car find new life. Also, seeing butch men get weepy about a vehicle does me in every time. What I'm trying to say is this book was sad, but more importantly, it was beautifully written.

Blake managed to take the massive tragedy of World War II and personalize it, highlighting the horrific consequences of war on an intimate level. It taught me a lot about WWII that I simply didn't know, either because I wasn't taught it or because I focused too much brainpower in sophomore History trying to understand Mr. Verdi's decision to repeatedly wear white jeans. While I really enjoyed the history lesson (particularly the fascinating details about the Blitz), I thought the theme of this book was really thought-provoking. Essentially, this book is about news, on both a large and small scale: what we do with it, how we handle it, how we share it, how we ingest it. That examination is what I really enjoyed about this book. Well, that and the pretty cover.

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2011 Book #9: "A Discovery of Witches" by Deborah Harkness

2011-06-04T15:31:00.000-04:00

Vampires and witches and daemons...oh my!

Book #9 this year was A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness, which I finished about 6 weeks ago but just now got around to blogging about. I suck at blogging. Deal with it. My reasons for wanting to read this book were trifold:

1. It has gotten stellar reviews from pretty much every major publication. It seemed like every time I opened a magazine or checked out a blog, I was reading something about how incredible this book was. Since I'm trying to branch out of my normal book preferences and read more books that are "critically acclaimed," this seemed like a good option. The critics literally acclaimed it. So much so that the book made the New York Times bestseller list before it was even released. How is that possible?!

2. I received this book as a gift from a super awesome friend and I began reading it on my super awesome birthday trip to Portland, Oregon. This alone made me determined to like it (even if I didn't, in fact, like it).

3. I repeatedly heard it referred to as the Twilight for adults. Since I loved the Twilight for teens, I thought there was a strong possibility I'd like the version for adults. Especially since the aforementioned birthday was actually the big 3-0, and not the big 1-4 as some of you would believe based on my taste in movies and books.

Despite having three solid reasons for wanting to read this book, I'm sad to say that I didn't love it. Parts of it were really enjoyable. Other parts were just dumb. Here is why...

The plot of the story itself was really interesting. Essentially the book is about a witch (and Yale historian) named Diana Bishop who, for personal reasons, has vowed not to use her magic or powers in any way. While working at the Bodlein Library at Oxford, Diana accidentally unlocks an enchanted manuscript that may or may not contain the historical origins of three supernatural species (vampires, witches, and daemons...oh my). A super hot, centuries-old vampire comes along, a bunch of baddies are in hot pursuit, and a lot of jet-setting ensues. Diana relies on her academic background in alchemy and history to uncover a lot of secrets about the manuscript, the origin of the three species, and the mystery surrounding her involvement with the enchanted book. The historical elements of the book were fascinating. And all in all, the story was really well-written. But...

Certain parts of the story, that were intended to be serious, came across comical (i.e. Diana trying to learn how to use her fancy witch powers). Also, the book felt a little dark at times. But the thing that bothered me the most was that this story is apparently the first in a series. This was something I didn't realize until the very last page (page 592, mind you) when the book ended and not a single loose end was tied up!! Everything was open-ended. I have no idea what happened to the characters, what the manuscript really means, what the future holds for Diana, why her powers were locked, etc. Beyond frustrating! Worse yet, A Discovery of Witches was just released a few months ago and as far as I can tell, the author hasn't even written the follow-up yet. So we're basically looking at a couple years before a sequel is released.

It's quite possible that when the other book(s) are released, I might think the overall story is phenomenal. At this point, my curiosity is piqued enough that I will probably read the sequel, but I just can't recommend this book at the present time. Unless you love being frustrated in which case you should run, not walk, to the bookstore. And grab a box of saran wrap while you're at it and spend your afternoon trying to keep it from clinging together, cause that's not frustrating at all.

2011 Book #8: "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen

2011-04-16T21:52:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit behind lately on the reading and the blogging and to those of you who have done nothing for the past month besides continually refresh my blog in hopes of a new post, I apologize. Without further ado, I bring you book #8 of my 2011 reading list: Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.

Even if you hadn't heard of this novel in the past couple years, you've probably heard about it lately because it's about to released as a movie next weekend. (I'm really on a roll this year with books-turned-movie selections). In any case, Water for Elephants is being released on April 22nd and it stars none other than Reese Witherspoon and Robert Pattinson. Imagine that....my imaginary BFF and my imaginary boyfriend starring in a film together. What are the odds? Um yeah, there's definitely no way I'm not seeing this movie.

I digress. This isn't a blog about movies. It's a blog about books. It just so happens that most of those books end up being movies. But I'm here to talk about Water for Elepants, the novel. I was actually a bit torn about whether or not I wanted to bother with this book. I heard about it from four different people, all of whom I really trust. Two people raved about it, two people told me it wasn't worth my time. Ultimately, my curiosity (and an impending library due date) won out and I dove in. I felt an enormous amount of excitement to read this book, due largely in part to the welcome addition of my brand new, super cool, "Keep Calm & Carry On" bookmark. War propaganda at its finest.

Thanks for the reminder, Mr. Bookmark, that these are fictional characters & events and have no real bearing on my life. Panic attack over.

When I finally started focusing on the book, I discovered that I liked it. A lot. It has everything you want in a good book: an interesting setting, complex characters, wicked villains, orphans, action, romance, midgets, human-animal relationships, human-midget relationships, midget-animal relationships, trains, murder, old people, and elephants. What's not to love? For those of you clueless about the plot, here's an overview...

Jacob Jankowski is days away from graduating college with a degree in veterinary science (or whatever they call your major when you're about to become a veterinarian) when his parents are killed in a car accident. He soon learns that not only are his parents dead, he now has absolutely nothing to his name. What does he do? The most rational thing possible: walks out of class during his finals, wanders around in the woods all day, and then jumps aboard a moving train only to realize later he's inadvertently joined a circus. During the Depression, no less. Midgets, animals, drunkards, performers, and strippers turn up and hilarious (and tragic) hijinks ensue.

All in all, I did really enjoy this book. It starts with an intense, and somewhat confusing, prologue that makes you want to read through the book in one day (as I did, which as it turned out, was a major bummer since I barely got to use the aforementioned bookmark). It's a fairly easy read too. Maybe a tad too easy--the writing was a bit juvenile at moments--but if you're looking for an entertaining read that won't require you to use too many brain cells at one time, this is it. The one thing I didn't care for (and I haven't mentioned yet) is that the story bounces back and forth between Depression-era 20-something Jacob, and modern-day 90-something Jacob (who is living in a nursing home). I thought the portrayal of modern-day Jacob was really intriguing, humorous, and a bit sad, but the back-and-forth really killed the pacing of the story and made it feel a bit stop-and-go.

One of the most interesting aspects of this book, in my opinion, wasn't even part of the story. At the end, in the author's note, Gruen offers insight into her research for the book, including a number of true stories that she actually incorporated into the plot. In hindsight, it made the book even more compelling to know that some of the story's more outlandish plot points were actually based on real-life events. Plus, it made me want to read some nonfiction books about the history of circuses. Not that I've done that or anything, but perhaps I will before the year is done.

Your turn to speak, minions. Who has read the book? Who loved it? Who hated it? Who is interested to see RPattz interact with an elephant? Comment below.

2011 Book #7: "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer

2011-03-07T16:59:00.002-05:00

In keeping with the tradition of reading books being turned into movies, my 7th selection this year was Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. Also known as Sobfest 2011. My sister recommended this book to me last year and, after putting it off for awhile in hopes of sparing my heart from sadness, I finally read it. (The movie version--starring Sandra Bullock & Tom Freakin' Hanks--is being filmed right now! Tom Hanks & Sandra Bullock starring together in a movie based on a book I've read?? Yes please.)

Here's a basic overview of the story for those who haven't heard of it: the narrator is a precocious 9-year old boy named Oskar Schell whose father died in the World Trade Center. A year after his dad's death, Oskar finds a key in his dad's closet inside an envelope with the name Black on it. Desperate to stay close to his father and hopefully learn more about him, Oskar decides to track down everyone in New York City with the last name Black in hopes of finding the key's owner.

For all intents and purposes, I should not have liked this book. However, I'm happy to report that I absolutely loved it. Here are the top three reasons why I should've (but didn't) hate it:

1. It's sad. This point was particularly evidenced my final night of reading when, at 1am, I laid in bed crying uncontrollably. I tend to shy away from overly emotional books/movies these days because, in a way, I feel like there's so much sadness in real life that I don't want to put myself through unnecessary emotional trauma. Especially when it's emotional trauma about people who DON'T EXIST! This is precisely why I no longer watch the ending of Titanic and why I refuse to watch Marley & Me a second time, even though I really think my husband would love it. I came home from that movie, laid on the floor hugging my dog, and cried into his fur for about an hour. I think I speak for Gus, as well as myself, when I say that was a little too intense. In any case, this book is sad. It's a heartbreaking tale about one of the most horrific moments in U.S. history. With that said, it's also strangely uplifting. It also personalized the 9/11 attacks for me in a way that nothing else ever has. This is just one (fictional) account of one victim's life. When you see the way his death impacted so many others, it puts things into perspective about the immensity of the tragedy and its far-reaching impact.

2. It doesn't tie up every loose end. I don't need every book to have a perfect, happy ending (although I don't complain when they do). I do, however, typically like for all the loose ends to be tied up and explained. I'm a stickler for details when reading and I desperately want every question to be answered, every bit of foreshadowing to be resolved, every unusual glance to have meaning. Don't read this book if you have those expectations. There are a lot of things left open-ended which, typically, would drive me crazy. In this book, it just makes sense. It's an accurate depiction of life and death. Nobody ever gets complete closure after tragedy, especially in an instance of senseless violence like the 9/11 attacks. When someone dies unexpectedly, there are always unanswered questions that never get resolved. In Oskar's quest to answer questions about his father, he ends up being confronted with even more questions, but he also manages to gain a certain amount of clarity along the way about the nature of life and death.

3. It's about death. I don't know about you but I'm not a big fan of death. As far as book topics go, it's a bit of a downer. Regardless, Foer has managed to confront death from a whimsical, hopeful, and inspiring perspective. The fact that the narrator is a 9-year old boy is, at times, incredibly heartbreaking, but it also adds a sweet naivete, curiosity, and hopefulness to the story.

For me, one of the truest tests of how good a particular book was is whether or not it stays with me. I read a lot (if you couldn't tell) and oftentimes, I forget about a book almost as soon as I finish the last page. Really good/honest/inspiring/moving stories have a way of staying with me for awhile. This is definitely one of those books. To end, here's a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer explaining the title of the book and, in a way, the book itself:

"The future is loud and close. Love is loud and close. And many things are silent and far away. There are mute characters, and characters who can't hear. Characters who travel halfway around the world to be distant from those they love, and characters who endlessly wander the city in an attempt to get home. And then there are the things — like Oskar's relationship with his father — that are simultaneously loud and silent, and close and far away..."

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Books vs. TV & Movies: The Best & the Worst

2011-02-24T08:00:00.005-05:00

I realized that, so far, all six books I've read this year are either currently being adapted or already have been adapted for TV or film. Looking over my reading list from 2010, I discovered that about 20% of those books were or are being adapted as well. Which brings me to this post: how do movies/TV shows based on books compare to their written counterparts?

This awesome t-shirt from Threadless pretty much sums it up.

The easy answer is that they don't compare at all. The books are always going to be better, regardless of how well the movie is made. And for the most part, I agree with that statement. For starters, a director is never going to create the exact same world that you envisioned in your mind. Chances are that your dream actors/actresses won't be cast for the part, either, and there's no way every single detail is going to be included. And then there's the tiny issue of not being able to know every one of the protagonist's thoughts throughout the story (unless, of course, the movie is fully narrated). So all in all, it's tough for a film/TV adaptation to be as good as the book. However, I thought it might be fun to rank the all-time Hits & Misses of books turned movies (in my opinion, of course).

HITS (in no particular order):

Pride & Prejudice: This will come as a real shocker if you've read any of my previous posts since I think I've found a way to work Mr. Darcy into pretty much every one of them. And yet, here he is again. The book's brilliant, the movie's brilliant. Jane Austen is my hero. The end.

Charlie/Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory: This only pertains to the original Gene Wilder version. I have no comments on the Johnny Depp version. I loved both this book and movie as a kid. And although the director took some strong liberties in making Willy Wonka a bit more whacked-out in the movie, I thought overall, it was a great adaptation, capturing the fun, magic, and wonder of the book. And who didn't want to explore that edible room?! Interestingly enough, I heard that Roald Dahl was so upset by the script changes that he refused to ever watch the film. Once, he supposedly flipped to it on a hotel TV and watched for a few minutes until he realized what it was, then promptly turned it off.

Casting of Noah & Allie in The Notebook: The movie version definitely had some changes (most notably the end, although I was a bit grateful for that. No one needs to see elderly-on-elderly action. Yuck!), but all in all, it stayed pretty true to the story. And regardless of that, I don't think there could've been anyone more perfect for those two roles than Rachel McAdams & Ryan Gosling. Loved it!

Vampire Diaries: I alluded to this in my most recent post, but I really feel like this is one case where the TV version is actually better than the books.

Anne of Green Gables: Just as charming and sweet as the stories, except for when they decided to make the third film and Gilbert was going bald. That was a real bummer.

Ramona & Beezus: I loved, loved, loved the Ramona books as a kid. I, like every other 8-year old who read them, wanted to be Ramona Quimby. In 2010, they finally got around to making a movie about her and, despite the fact that it was most certainly a kids movie, I was stoked to see it. I found a loophole, in the form of my 7-year old niece, Gabby, and had a movie night together to watch it. And let me just say, it was adorable! Perfectly cast (John Corbett as Mr. Quimby! Ginnifer Goodwin as Aunt Bea!) and brilliantly executed. And I may or may not have cried, like, 8 different times throughout it.

Privileged/How to Teach Filthy Rich Girls: The book was, er, questionable, to say the least. The TV show was adorable. Is there a cuter girl on the planet than Joanna Garcia? Methinks not. Sadly, the show got cancelled after one season, leaving us all to wonder if Megan ended up with cute best friend, Charlie, or hottie neighbor, Will. The agony!

MISSES:

Confessions of a Shopaholic: I think Isla Fisher is adorable, I really do, but she's American!! And Becky Bloomwood, star of Sophie Kinsella's Shopaholic series, is most definitely British. All of her charm, wit, and quirks stem from her Britishness, so it was totally disappointing to see her transformed into a New Yorker. I will say, however, that the adorable Mr. Hugh Dancy turned out to be a great Luke Brandon.

Twilight Cast Makeup: In the books, the Cullen clan is basically supposed to be the most attractive group of individuals you've ever laid eyes on. In real life, the actors and actresses that play the Cullen clan are pretty much the most attractive group of individuals you've ever laid eyes on (hi there, RPattz!). Unfortunately, in their effort to portray the vamps' pale skin, the makeup artists got a little crazy and somehow the gang ended up looking like they met at a Make-a-Wish Foundation mixer for fatally ill kids. And don't even get me started on Alice's hair...

Pretty Much Any Other Nicholas Sparks' Novel: Yes, I've read them all. I hold my mother-in-law solely responsible for that. And as cheesy as the man is, he writes a way better story than the scriptwriters who are responsible for his movies. Nights in Rodanthe, A Walk to Remember, Last Song, Dear John. No thank you. A Walk to Remember had to be one of the worst. Of course, they had to make the main character, who was a Christian, a total dork with zero social skills and terrible acting abilities (although, come to think of it, the bad acting might not have actually been the producers' intention). And enough with the thrift store cardigans already!!

Lovely Bones: After I finished reading this book last year, I was dying to see the movie. I mean, it had Marky Mark in it so I knew it had to be awesome. Right? Wrong. Not only was the story dramatically different, there were way too many trippy "heaven scenes" that I definitely could've done without.

I'm looking forward to several of the books-turned-movies being released this year including One Day, The Help, Breaking Dawn, and The Hunger Games, but I'm also worried about how well they'll actually be adapted.

Now it's your turn. What were your favorite or least favorite adaptations? What should've made the Hit list and what was definitely a miss? Leave comments. They make me feel loved.

2011 Books #5-6: Vampire Diaries by LJ Smith

2011-02-20T08:00:00.005-05:00

I don't know what I'm more embarrassed to admit: the fact that I've read a couple of the Vampire Diaries novels or that the reason I chose to read them is because I'm obsessed with the CW show by the same name. It seems like a toss-up of humiliating info.

In any case, I do watch the show (which I'm only mildly mortified to admit that I LOVE) so I decided to give the books a try. And my verdict is......one thumb down and one thumb sideways. Typically, movie or TV adaptations of books don't even come close to the original. I'll be the first to admit that when you've seen the movie/TV version prior to reading the book, it can definitely affect the way you view the story or characters. When I finally got around to reading Pride and Prejudice last year, I couldn't stop picturing Matthew Macfadyen whenever I read scenes featuring the dashing Mr. Darcy. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Case in point: see below. Dreamy.

I have bewitched you body & soul and you love, love, love me.

But typically, even after seeing a filmed adaptation of a book, when reading it, I'm still engaged. Not so much with Vampire Diaries. First of all, it is drastically different than the show. All the TV producers seemed to take from Smith's stories were the names of the characters. And to be honest, I like where the show went with the story much more than the books. And yes, I realize that I'm defending a show about teenage vampires. It's pretty much been established that deep down, I'm nothing more than a 14-year old girl. But this show is more than just hunky vampires taking their shirts off (although, let's be real, that would probably still be enough to get me to tune in). It actually has some moderately interesting historical plotlines. And when those are boring, there's the hunky vampires.

Hello Salvatore brothers!!

One thing I will say about LJ Smith's Vampire Diaries books is that they're not simply about jumping on the vampire bandwagon. Since the show just debuted last year, I assumed these books were nothing more than Twilight wannabes, which I'm ok with. If you're going to win the young adult crowd, there are worse ways to go about it than trying to mimic the Cullen clan's adventures. In any case, I was intrigued to find out that the Vampire Diaries books actually came out in the 1990's. So you know what that means? I could've read them when I was actually a teenage girl. Ah well. I guess I'm just making up for lost time now.

2011 Books #2-4: The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins

2011-02-14T08:00:00.007-05:00

Just when you think you'll never find a series as fascinating or exciting as one dedicated to the adolescent love triangle of a werewolf, vampire, and human, along comes Suzanne Collins' un-freaking-believable Hunger Games trilogy. Before all you vampire haters abandon this post, let me assure you that none of the main characters in these books are fantastical creatures. I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of any adolescent love triangles, however.

The Hunger Games was recommended to me in 2010 by a few different people, but given it's popularity, it took me a few months to get my hands on a copy, pushing it onto 2011's list. All I can say is: I wish I had read it a long time ago and I wish I could read it for the first time again.

Here's the premise of book 1 (The Hunger Games): in a futuristic, dystopian society known as Panem, 12 districts are ruled (read: controlled) by a sadistic government known simply as the Capitol. Every year, two kids between the ages of 12 and 18 from each district are chosen to participate in the Hunger Games, a nationally televised fight-to-the-death competition. When 16-year-old Katniss Everdeen's little sister's name is chosen in the lottery, Katniss steps up to take her place.

It's going to take a lot for any other series, or book for that matter, to surpass the Hunger Games trilogy as one of my favorites this year. Although the content is a bit difficult to swallow at times, the stories were incredible. I don't typically gravitate towards fantasy/sci-fi/futuristic novels in the least, but I couldn't put these down. I think I read all three novels in as many days. They're compelling, entertaining, and really thought-provoking. There's definitely a strong thematic message about war, violence, and desensitization, and like I mentioned earlier, absolutely no vampires.

In other exciting news, these books are going to be made into movies as well, giving me yet another film to see at midnight amid a sea of tweens and teens. Given the graphic nature of the books and the world Collins' created (in the districts, the Capitol, and HG arena), I'm very eager to see how this film is adapted. And, I'm not gonna lie, I'm looking forward to see who plays Peeta & Gayle. I'm guessing Robert Pattinson is out. Darn.

2011 Book #1: "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett

2011-02-10T08:00:00.005-05:00

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past two years, chances are you've probably heard rumblings about Kathryn Stockett's wildly successful, New York Times bestselling, soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture, debut novel, The Help. In case you are, in fact, living encased in rock, I'll explain the plot, but first I'd like to know how you get Internet access inside your cave dwelling.

The book is set in the early 1960's in Mississippi and focuses on the relationship between African-American domestic servants (otherwise known as "The Help," get it?) and their white employers. The story is told from three different perspectives: two black maids known as Abilene & Minny and a 23-year old white college grad named Skeeter who decides to anonymously write a book about the experiences of the black servants in the area. That's the gist. If you want more details, read the description on Amazon.

I actually planned to read this novel in 2010, but it took the library about 4 months to actually reserve a copy for me. A little testament to how popular the book is. I finally got my hands on a copy on December 30th, but given its 450+ pages, I decided to add it to my 2011 reading list instead, for fear that I wouldn't finish it in time for the 2010 list and would be a complete and total failure. It turns out it wouldn't have been an issue...I started the book on January 1st and finished on January 2nd. I couldn't put it down. And here's why I loved it...

1. Incredibly well-developed characters that evoke strong emotional responses. I found myself rooting for many of them, crying for others, and desiring to punch some in the face (you know who you are, Hilly Holbrook). I really loved these women (well, most of them anyway), and I was terrified at the thought of some evil befalling them.

2. Fascinating insight into the atmosphere and mindset of the South in the pre-Civil Rights era. This was particularly of interest to me since a) I was not alive during this time in history (shocking, I know), and b) I didn't grow up in the South.

3. Inspiring backstory. It took Kathryn Stockett five years to write this novel. She then got rejected by 45+ literary agents before finding one to take on the book. Did I mention that it's been on the NY Times Bestseller List for 96 weeks?!

4. Coming to a theater near you. Despite the fact that I have yet to see one movie that actually lives up to its written counterpart, I'm a sucker for movies based on books. Especially when I've actually read the book. And not only is The Help being turned into a movie, Emma Stone is playing the role of Skeeter. After seeing Easy A (yes, I have the maturity level and tastes of a 15-year old girl), I'm totally in love with Emma Stone. More Emma Stone, that's what I say. (If it gives me more cred, I also thoroughly enjoyed her stint as host of SNL).

5. I didn't want it to end. Here are the facts: I like to read. I will read the back of a cereal box, including the entire list of ingredients, if it's sitting in front of me. What separates good reading from bad reading is my desire for it to keep going. As fascinating as it is to know that Frosted Flakes contain thiamin hydrochloride, I could pretty much take it or leave it. With The Help, I was beyond disappointed when the book ended. I wanted to read 400 more pages about these three incredible women and their respective lives.

One book down, 51 to go. What did you think of The Help?? What book should I read next?

2011: The Year of the Book

2011-02-07T23:25:00.009-05:00

I love books. Seriously, I do. If civil unions between humans and novels were sanctioned by the U.S. government, I would totally be Mrs. To Kill a Mockingbird. Or Mrs. Twilight, at least. In 2010, I set a goal to read 52 books in the year. Not only was it one of the first New Year's resolutions I ever successfully fulfilled; it also turned out to be one of the most rewarding. So rewarding, in fact, that I've decided to do it again in 2011.

Shortly after concluding the year's reading, I posted a list of some of the more noteworthy books I read in 2010. I've been incredibly surprised and extremely excited to hear from all of you, my loyal subjects, about how the list inspired you to read more books. I've also been thrilled to see how many of you actually took my suggestions to heart. I mean, I completely understand why. I'm nothing if not a really good recommender of books.

In any case, I decided that instead of waiting until the end of 2011 to post my reading recommendations for this year, I'd blog about them as I go. This will actually kill two birds with one stone (not that I recommend violence against birds in any way): First of all, it will hopefully encourage lively discussion about one of my favorite topics ever: books. And secondly, it will actually give me something to blog about. Despite the fact that I'm a writer by trade, when it comes to blogging on my own site, I kinda suck (in case you haven't noticed).

This is me & my husband, although I would definitely pick something better than the Children's Missal. Lame.

So here's my plan: I'm going to blog about the books that I read, as I read them, and give you my honest feedback and opinions on them. I'm not sure if I'll definitely blog about every single book since some of them are sure to be duds. Then again, I'm probably the most entertaining when railing against something I don't like and being sarcastic about other people's attempts at art, so maybe I will include posts about the books I hate.

I know what you're thinking: how can we trust you, Nancy? We've faithfully visited this blog every single day since it launched and you've left us hanging for months at a time. Good point. I have no response, except to say that there will be blog posts about the first six books at least. I can guarantee it because as I write this post I've already read six books this year. And I'm writing the blog posts about those six books tonight. I'll schedule them to post periodically over the next couple of weeks (don't want to give you too much of a good thing all at once) so there will definitely be new content for awhile. After that, I'll make the best attempts to continue blogging about my reading choices. I will certainly be motivated to continue blogging if you are faithful to comment on the posts, sharing your personal opinions and recommendations. With that said, what book should I definitely read in 2011? Start the suggestions, people.

2010 Reading Recommendations

2011-02-07T23:22:00.012-05:00

One of my many resolutions in 2010 was to read 52 books in the year. That's one book a week for all you calendarly-challenged folks out there. I'm happy to say that, for once in my life, I actually fulfilled a resolution. On December 30th, I read my 52nd book this year. And no, there are no Dr. Seuss books in the mix. Amelia Bedelia didn't make the cut either. The shortest book I read all year was "The Pearl" by John Steinback (96 pages), so what it lacked in pages, it made up for in depth and meaning. The longest were "The Lonely Polygamist" by Brady Udall (602 pages) and "The Host" by Stephanie Meyer (619 pages). Those should count as two books each, at least, methinks.

In addition to reading 52 books, I wanted to broaden my reading horizons and seek novels that were either classics I had never read or in different genres than I would typically gravitate towards. I chose the 52 books based on three criterion: 1. Books that looked interesting to me. 2. Books that were strongly recommended by friends. 3. Books that received a lot of coverage or great reviews this year. I'm not going to list all 52 books because, quite frankly, some of them were total duds and others are slightly embarrassing to admit having read. So I decided to rank and judge the ones that really stood out to me this year, in case you're interested in picking any of them up. Without further ado, here they are...

Best Book of the Year: One Day by David Nicholls. Dexter & Emma meet on the day of their college graduation (July 15, 1988). The book then follows their lives for the next 20 years, each chapter showing only the events of July 15th of each year. I found it to be smartly written, witty, and incredibly moving. As an added bonus, it's set in London. As another bonus, they're making it into a movie starring Anne Hathaway. If you like Nick Hornby, you'll like this book.

Most Inspiring: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Find your destiny in life and go after it. 'Nuff said.

Most Intense: The aptly-titled Intensity by Dean Koontz. You're staying with a friend, a psychopathic serial killer murders the whole family but doesn't know you're there, so naturally, you decide to sneak aboard his RV and follow him home. It makes perfect sense. I read this book in one sitting. I literally couldn't put it down. I also dove off the couch at one point near the end when someone in my neighborhood set off a firecracker. I was 100% convinced that I was being shot at.

The I-Can't-Believe-I'm-Just-Now-Getting-Around-To-Reading-This Book: Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen. Believe it or not, Mr. Darcy is even more swoonworthy on the written page. He has bewitched me body and soul and I love, I love, I love him.

Best New Series: Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich. Bounty hunter in New Jersey with a dysfunctional family and miserable love life. What more could you want?

Most Disturbing: Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk. Drag queens, disfigured supermodels, drug addictions, and a whole lot of self-hate. Not sure why I expected anything different from the guy who wrote Fight Club. As twisted as the whole story was, I did find his writing style to be really unique and interesting. Not for the faint of heart.

Most Unsettling (see also: Worst Argument for Mormonism): The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall. One man, four wives, and 28 children. I actually really enjoyed this book and thought it was worthy of all the critical praise it's received. However, the content was a bit hard to swallow and I'm definitely not interested in adding any more wives to our family dynamic.

Most Prophetic: The Last Jihad by Joel Rosenberg. Written pre-September 11th, the novel opens with a terrorist attack on a major US city involving hijacked planes and America's subsequent response to go into Iraq searching for weapons of mass destruction.

Most Embarrassed to Admit Reading: Parties & Potions by Sarah Mlynowski. Yes, this book is the fourth in a series called Magic in Manhattan (which begins with a book called Bras & Broomsticks). And yes, it's written for teenage girls. But Sarah Mlynowski is seriously funny so I admit that not only did I read all of these books, I laughed out loud (a lot) during them.

Most Proud to Admit Reading: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. It's sort of like Anne of Green Gables meets Pride & Prejudice meets something much darker. I thoroughly enjoyed it and I'm not just saying that because it makes me look smart. (It does make me look smart though, doesn't it?)

Author I'm Most Obsessed With After 2010: Dean Koontz. Three words: Master. Of. Suspense.

Can't Wait for the Movie: The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman, about a fledgling English-language newspaper in Rome and the "imperfect" people that work there. Alternating chapters tell the origins of the paper in the 1950s. Brad Pitt bought the rights to the movie & I'm interested to see how it will be adapted. (This book also wins for my favorite book cover of the year. How great is it?!)

Could've Done Without the Movie: The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Dark, yes, but also wildly fascinating. The movie was horrendous though and a far cry from the story in the book.

Can't Wait for the Sequel: Mini Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella. I thoughtShopaholic & Baby was the final book in this series, so I was very pleasantly surprised this year when Mini Shopaholic was released. Even more pleased when the ending set up yet another forthcoming book. I love Sophie Kinsella. If you're looking for lighthearted, yet hilarious, chick lit, read everything she's ever written. I have.

Could've Done Without the Sequel: The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner by Stephanie Meyer. It was entertaining, but it didn't really do justice to the Twilight franchise. And yes, I feel as though the Twilightfranchise is good enough to deserve justice. In reality, there just wasn't nearly enough Edward.

Random Letters

2009-11-09T15:56:00.004-05:00

Dear Aspiring Pop Princesses of the World,

Want to be unique and really stand out from the competition? How about you try NOT being a whore? Just a thought. Also, it might help if you could actually sing.

Dear Facebook,

Stop suggesting that I "reconnect" with someone and write on their wall or send them a message. There's a reason I haven't written on their wall. I've been avoiding them. Because I probably don't like them. Because I probably just felt bad denying their friend request in the first place. Quit telling me what to do. You're not the boss of me.

Dear Major TV Networks,

How about you let a show stay on the air more than 10 minutes before you cancel it? This is precisely why no one watches new shows and instead wait until 2 or 3 seasons are out on DVD before they tune in. I still haven't forgiven you for canceling Pushing Daisies or Kings. I miss the Piemaker!! In other news, we don't need a new version of CSI set in Boise, Idaho, ok? 28 editions is plenty.

Dear Arizona Department of Motor Vehicles,

Thank you for not making my driver's license expire until 2046. Even though I'm quite certain that at the age of 65 I will look nothing like I did when I was 21 & got my license photo taken, I appreciate never having to go to the DMV. Even though I now live in another state and have lived in said state for 4 years. Which brings me to my next letter...

Dear Indiana Department of Motor Vehicles,

A written test?? Really!? After having my license for 12 years? Seriously!? This is precisely why I still have my Arizona license. Also, I'm not a fan of your new "no showing your teeth while smiling" and "your hair must be pushed behind your ears" rules for license photos. Is it your goal in life to get me to look as uncute as possible? How about you make it mandatory for everyone to wear an oversized t-shirt they bought at a kiosk in the mall and no makeup? Just an idea.

Dear Technology,

I love you. But I hate you. You were created to make my life more convenient but when you stop working and take all of my data with you, it's inconvenient. When you allow people to reach me at all hours of the day and night regardless of where I am or what I'm doing, this is inconvenient. When I intend to send a personal and somewhat embarrassing email to a friend and you send it to everyone in my address book, this is inconvenient. When you stop working and forget to record new episodes of Gossip Girl, this is seriously inconvenient. Work on that, will ya?

Dear Parking Lots,

I'm sure that someday when I'm a mother, I'll appreciate the fact that you designate special spots close to the door just for me. But right now, when I'm a childless person who just wants to get into the grocery store quickly without being drenched by a monsoon, you kinda just tick me off. And make me hate children.

Dear Robert Pattinson,

How YOU doin'?!?

Eight Strikes You're Out

2009-10-01T09:16:00.003-04:00

Let me start off by saying this blog is being written out of pure frustration, fueled by my own irritation and anger. It's only 9:15am and I'm inching dangerously close to the line where annoyance turns into violent rage. Don't worry, you have no reason to fear. I have not yet discovered a way to cause any physical harm to you through the computer as you sit in the safety of your own home reading this. Apparently, Apple hasn't created an app for that yet.

What is the cause of this frustration, you ask? Three letters: I. R. S.

I needed to get a simple question answered this morning. (Calm down...Kyle & I aren't battling charges of tax evasion or anything like that. We're helping with the upstart of a non-profit and I had a basic question about tax exemption.) Exhausting all other options, I realized I needed to go straight to the source to get the answers I needed. In this case, the source is the Internal Revenue Service.

Strike One: Actually being the Internal Revenue Service. No offense, IRS, but you've gotten a bad rap over the years. I'm beginning to understand why.

The answer I needed should've probably been Google-able, but since the IRS has apparently decided to write all of their forms in the official language of the planet of Melmac, there are no answers to be found. Strike Two, IRS: Making an already complicated process exponentially more complex by failing to communicate anything in a way that is understandable to the average (or in this case, extremely brilliant) American citizen.

So what did I do next? I called the 1-800 number foolishly believing I might be able to speak to a live human being. Heck, at this point, I would've taken an intelligent alien life form. Or even a well-versed robot. But no. Instead, I had to go through roughly 2,483,812 electronic prompts before ever having a hope of talking to a real person. And those 2,483,812 prompts? Oh yeah, all in the Melmacian tongue. Strike Three: Having prompts that say things like, "If you're calling to find more information out about forms 3175b, 4471x, 317-g, 5535, 1819m, 312a, 7689-qe, 1414z, 1224, or 647xyzabe, please press 4."

At this point, I basically just started jabbing numbers into my phone in a desperate attempt to reach a human, or at the very least cause a serious malfunction that shut down all electronic prompt operations for the next 24 hours. I finally got through the prompts (totally clueless by the way about what department I might end up in) and was met with this recording: "The next available operator will be right with you. Your estimated wait time is 10 to 15 minutes." Oh no you didn't, IRS. Strike four.

So 15 minutes later when someone finally answered the phone, you know what I was told after about 2.4 seconds (which, by the way, is the total length of time it took me to ask my simple question)? "Um, I'm going to need to transfer you to another office. I have no idea what to tell you." Fantastic. Strike five.

New lady at new department picks up after only a few seconds and I'm thinking, "Gee whiz, this is going to be great. Finally, the answers I need." Can I get through an entire question without her interrupting me? No, I can't. When I let out an audible sigh of frustration, do you know what her response is? "You need to calm down. It's ok. You're going to be ok. I'm trying to help you. Stop getting so worked up." Strike six. And then when I responded to her little pep talk by telling her that I've already been on the phone for approximately 20 minutes trying to get one simple answer, do you know what her response was? "Well, lucky you. That's a short wait." STRIKE. SEVEN.

So FINALLY, she gives me the answer I need: "Yes, ma'am, we can just issue you a simple letter that you can use to exempt you from taxes on all of your purchases." YES! HALLELUJAH!! The skies have parted and the angels are singing in unison. The guy at the Apple store who is waiting for me to send in my form to complete the purchase I made this morning will finally have the paperwork he needs. Praise ye Almighty God! And then IRS lady goes on..."You should have it sometime in the next 3 weeks." Say what?! "Can you email or fa---?" "NO, ma'am!"

Strike.

Eight.

I'm done.

Satisfaction Guaranteed

2009-09-28T09:31:00.004-04:00

Dear New York City (aka New York, New York; The Big Apple; Manhattan; The City that Never Sleeps; The City; The Melting Pot; Gotham, and the list goes on...)

First of all, you have more aliases than Puff Daddy. You might want to tone that down a bit. For the record, I will never agree to calling you N. Yorkie no matter how hard you plead. Let's just make that clear.

I recently paid a visit to your booming metropolis and on most fronts, you did not disappoint. Your food was delicious, your shopping was superb, and the crazies were in rare form. Overall, I had a delightful time. But there were a few minor things that did not meet my expectations. Given the cost of a weekend spent in your city, I felt it was my duty to report these things to management. I hope we can reach a satisfying resolution moving forward.

1. Your residents are kinda jerkfaces. Seriously, all 14 billion of them. They don't smile, they don't exchange pleasantries on the street, and often when you're petting their dogs and trying to make conversation about how wonderful dogs are in general and how God really knew what He was doing when He created dogs (as opposed to cats), they sorta grunt in response instead of excitedly agreeing with you on how a dog should probably be our next President. Also, they can be a little forceful when getting in and out of trains which can cause a bit of trouble for a person who hypothetically might be carrying 8-10 shopping bags while drinking coffee and eating a cupcake. I'm just saying.

2. Your streets are kind of dirty and they often smell strongly of human excrement. Are people walking around with poop in their pants? If that is true, that would actually offer a good explanation for my first complaint.

3. You're a little pricey. I know that people are constantly saying that you're the greatest city on earth, the most exciting place on the planet, the hub of fashion, finance, entertainment, and shopping, but I think some of those compliments may have gone to your head. Should it really cost me $20 for pancakes and a cup of crappy coffee? Is it necessary to charge $2 per ride on a crowded train that smells a bit like urine? Must I be tempted by $4 cupcakes at every turn? I think not.

4. You're really close to New Jersey. Being in such close proximity to that much hairspray and stonewashed denim is probably not safe for anyone.

Thank you for your time and consideration in reviewing these complaints. I trust that you will look into these matters immediately and begin making strides to improve upon your great city. I do appreciate all that you've done for me in the past. You're the only place on the planet where a person can find a store dedicated solely to selling various types of creampuffs and for that, I say thank you. The world is in dire need of more creampuffs (the kind you eat, not the kind that say things like "Heyyy girlfriend!" while snapping their fingers in zig-zag patterns in front of their chests. The world has plenty of those. Just watch Project Runway.).

I look forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Nancy

Music to My (Virgin) Ears

2009-09-10T10:56:00.002-04:00

Last week, Kyle & I were in Atlanta hanging with his family and one night, we started going through my brother-in-law's ipod and listening to old songs. As I sang along, never missing a lyric, to songs about humping, sex, big butts, and funky cold medina, I was hit with a realization: I knew the lyrics to a lot of wildly inappropriate songs as a child.

I mean, seriously. Who let me listen to that stuff?! I'll tell you who. It's the same people who thought it was a good idea to take a 7-year old to a Poison concert. Yeah, Poison. The band fronted by that creepy Rock of Love guy. And the same people who thought it was not an issue for a second-grader to have a life-sized poster of Bon Jovi in her bedroom (which is no small feat I might add; his hair alone just barely fit on the back of my door). And don't even get me started about our family movie selections (Faces of Death, anyone?). Needless to say, I've pretty much been scarred for life. But I've decided to compile a list, for your reading pleasure, of the most inappropriate songs I could sing every lyric to on the playground.

In no particular order...

1. "I Want To Sex You Up" by Color Me Badd: Tick tock, you don't stop. But really, Color Me Badd, you should stop. Stop corrupting the minds of innocent children everywhere, that is.

2. "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mixx-a-Lot: I spent a great deal of my childhood wondering what an anaconda was. When I find out, it's safe to say I was thoroughly disgusted with Sir Mixx-a-Lot and his pervy ways. Who knighted this guy, anyways?

3. "Wild Thing" by Tone Loc: If you're unsure how inappropriate this song is, google the lyrics. Then wash your mouth out with soap.

4. "Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt-n-Pepa: Um, how about we not?

5. "Talk Dirty to Me" by Poison: Do these titles give away nothing? Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure "talking dirty" doesn't necessarily sound like a kid-friendly concept.

6. "I'll Make Love to You" by Boyz II Men: Again, the titles aren't hiding anything here, folks.

7. "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground: Hate to break it to you, but this song has absolutely nothing to do with an egg falling off a wall.

8. "Bump 'n Grind" by R. Kelly: I actually do see something wrong with a little bump 'n grind, R.

9. "Do Me" by Bell Biv Devoe: You kiss your mother with that mouth?!

10. "Nuthin' but a G Thang" by Dr. Dre & Snoop Dogg: There's a lot wrong with this song. Not the least of which is the ruthless promotion of improper spelling of some really basic words. What kind of example does that set for the youth of America?

Back By Popular Demand

2009-09-08T17:39:00.006-04:00

To quote the immortal words of some famous movie villain who I totally can't recall right now and couldn't find anywhere on the internet (what are you good for, Wikipedia?): I'm baaaack!! And to be quite honest, I'm better than ever. Really, I am.

So it's been awhile. I know. Stop telling me. Stop whining about it. I haven't blogged in forever. 328 days to be exact (which coincidentally are the numbers of my birthday....March 28....it's never too early to start buying me presents). According to my calculations, had I waited one more day, a mutinous uprising would've most certainly occurred bringing utter and total annihilation to the earth as we know it. And honestly, I didn't want to be responsible for the end of civilization. And I most certainly didn't want to miss out on the premieres of Gossip Girl, The Office, and the new Vampire Diaries (which surely wouldn't have aired if the whole earth was destroyed). So here I am to rescue you from the vast emptiness that has been surrounding you for 11 months. Your days in the wilderness are over, my friend. I'm here to guide you as any good and fearless leader should.

What I really want to know is this: how have you survived this long without me? I have the great luxury of getting to bask in my brilliance daily and sometimes not even that is enough. How you've made it this long without my wisdom and insight is beyond me.

Since it's been so long, I feel the need to sum up the past 11 months or so. A lot has happened. A lot of great CHANGE has taken place in this nation. CHANGE that we all HOPED for. Our HOPE prevailed and CHANGE took place. CHANGE. HOPE. HOPE. CHANGE. That's right, folks. You know what I'm talking about. Last November, for the first time EVER in the history of the world, ABC selected a single dad to be the Bachelor! Shocking, I know. Sadly, he turned out to be a total toolbox and although in previous posts I rooted for him mercilessly, he's now dead to me.

I want to sum up the rest of the year quickly so here's what you've missed:

1. I'm obsessed with Twilight now. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever met me. Teenagers. Vampires. Werewolves. Love triangles. Ginormous books that take me longer than 24 hours to read. Robert Pattinson. What's not to love?!

2. I get paid to blog now (though sadly not from any of you). This is primarily why this particular blog has been so neglected. I thought I was too big-time for you guys. But the people have spoken. And I have listened to your humble cries for help. So I'm back. However, please don't let that stop you from paying me if you feel so obliged. I will happily forward my PayPal info along to anyone.

3. Gus is 2 now and supremely mature. Just yesterday I walked in on him wearing a robe & ascot, sipping on Scotch while he smoked a pipe and read the Wall Street Journal. They grow up so fast (sniff, sniff).

4. Some exciting news among my friends: Pam & Jim are engaged (and expecting a baby!). George is dead. Izzie's got cancer, although I have every confidence she's going to make a full recovery. Blair is going to NYU and is going to be forced to be roommates with that evil Georgina Sparks (gasp!). Dan and Serena broke up (why, God, why?). Annie ran over some guy with her car (kinda wishing someone would've run Annie over instead). Jeannine is America's new favorite dancer (although not for long). And Bret & Jermaine have yet to secure a record deal...what does Murray do all day long?

5. I am awesome. Oh wait, actually this is a fact that has remained unchanged since the dawn of time. Just thought I'd remind you.

It's nice to be back. I'll post again soon. And by soon I mean sometime between 1 and 328 days. Peace.

The Fresh Maker

2008-10-15T10:27:00.002-04:00

Am I the only person who gets really paranoid when someone offers me a breath mint? I mean, logic tells me that when someone is partaking of something, the polite thing to do is offer to share with everyone around them. (Have our kindergarten teachers taught us nothing?) And I would most certainly be offended if someone was eating some peanut butter M&M's and didn't bother to offer me a handful (or twelve handfuls). So, 9 times out of 10, when someone eats a mint in my presence and offers me one, they're probably just being polite. But I can't help but wonder if pulling out a mint to eat it in my presence is all a ruse in order to offer me one so that my rank nasty breath would stop assaulting them. Therefore, when someone offers me a mint, I feel absolutely compelled to take it even if I don't want it because I'm terrified that if I turn it down, the Mint Offerer might be thinking, "Dang it. That plan didn't work. Must move on to Plan B." And for all I know, Plan B might include banging me over the head with a lead pipe and tossing me in their trunk just to keep my bad breath from harming anyone else.

It's just something to think about.

Statuesque beauty

2008-09-29T15:17:00.008-04:00

In the booming metropolis that is Carmel, Indiana, where I reside, there has been some major overhauling of Main Street in the past few years in an effort to create a quaint, small-town charm with overpriced boutiques, locally owned restaurants and...statues?? Yep. For some reason, the city thought adding realistic human statues would add a certain flair to the city. Don't believe me? Take a look.

The first statue I recall seeing was of this father helping his daughter ride her bike. That seems sweet, doesn't it? Yeah, except that it's located right next to the street and looks as though the father is preparing to push his young, unsuspecting daughter into oncoming traffic. I cannot tell you how many times I've driven past that spot, felt my heart race and slammed on the brakes, certain I was about to collide with a young girl on a bike.

Next there's this man playing the violin for donations. I've almost tossed a few bucks in his case while passing. The first time I saw him, I felt bad for the poor guy. What self-respecting man, in chinos no less, stands on the streets of Carmel, Indiana and plays violin for cash? These are hardly the streets of New York, people. Has the economy really gotten that bad?

Then there's this old lady with her groceries standing in the middle of the sidewalk. From far away she seems friendly enough, but up close, there is an intense hatred in those eyes. Perhaps it's because there are no decent young men to offer to carry the groceries to her car. All the decent young men in this town have resorted to pandhandling and shoving their unwitting daughters in front of moving vehicles.

There are more statues but I'll spare you the photos. There's the man standing right next to the curb carrying a squirming young boy on his shoulders who looks as though he's about to squirm his way right onto the top of your passing car. And then there's the old man taking up half of the only decent bench on Main Street reading his paper.

It seems every time I drive down Main Street, I'm greeted by some new, creepy statue staring back at me. I think my concerns are obvious. First, is it possible that these are not statues at all? Have our peaceful streets been infiltrated by some heartless, Medusa-esque villain who is sucking the very life out of innocent passers-by and turning them into hardened bronze versions of themselves? And secondly, with the increasing number of statues, is is possible that we may soon reach a day when the streets of downtown Carmel are so overrun by these statues, that there is no longer walking room for us living folks? Something to think about. Something to think about indeed.

Why Dogs are Better Than Kids

2008-09-18T10:21:00.006-04:00

Don't get me wrong, I love kids. I plan to have a few of my own someday and I'm sure they'll be some of the most fantastic human beings to ever grace planet Earth and I'm sure I'll make it a point to consistently tell you of their amazing awesomeness. But for now, I'm kind of in that weird transitionary phase of life where my friends all fit into one of four categories: Single, Married w/no dependents of any type, Married with a pet (specifically a dog because I wouldn't really be friends with anyone that chose a cat as a pet), and Married with children. I actually have some friends that are single with a dog but for the sake of ease, I'm choosing to overlook them at the present time.

Clearly, having absolutely no dependents or responsibility is the easiest way to go, but assuming you like the sense of power you get from knowing another living creature's fate rests in your hands, I have to say that having a dog absolutely trumps having kids. And this is why:

One word: kennel. My husband and I can be gone for hours on end without the slightest concern for our dog's well-being because he's resting safely in his kennel. We never have to pay for a sitter or take him with us somewhere if we don't want to. Not so with kids. I mean, what is a crib if not a giant, open-roofed kennel? But you try to leave your baby in there, even for 20 minutes or so while you run to the grocery store and people get all weird and start calling social services on you. What is that about?

Dogs eat twice a day and both of those times are determined by YOU, the owner. If we want to feed Gus at 6pm or 11pm, its entirely up to us. And if we forget to feed him one day? Oh well. He'll survive. But babies....goodness gracious. For as tiny as they are, they sure do seem to be a bit demanding about their food intake. And it's not even as though they're capable of eating it themselves. You have to actually feed them. Again I ask you, what is that about?

When we got Gus (or Sir Augustus as he prefers to be called by strangers and mere acquaintances), he was six weeks old (and basically one tiny ball of cuteness which is irrelevant to my point, but important for you to note nonetheless). He was, by all means, a baby, yet his neediness was kept to a bare minimum. At six weeks old, he knew how to walk around by himself, he slept through the night without crying, screaming, yelping, howling or whimpering, and his bodily functions required no changing or clean-up (save for the few incidents when he pooped in the dining room, but let's be honest, who among us hasn't pooped on the dining room floor once or twice, right?). For all intents and purposes, he was self-sufficient. How many six-week old human babies do you know that are as autonomous? I'm guessing none.

Before I start getting a bunch of angry hate mail from all you parents out there who think I can't possibly understand the joy and satisfaction of having a child of my own, let me ask you this: has your child ever greeted you at the door the second you got home, so overcome with excitement that it started a chain reaction from their butt region through their entire body that caused uncontrollable shaking and wiggling as they tried to jump into your arms, bloodying your legs with their razor-sharp nails in the process, all the while attempting to cover your face, hands and any other inch of bare skin with their own saliva? I didn't think so.

Zap!!

2008-09-12T10:59:00.000-04:00

I can't get this little ditty out of my head. I bet you can't either!

Return of a friend

2008-09-02T10:15:00.003-04:00

This weekend, my husband and I were able to spend some much-needed quality time with an old friend that we haven't seen in well over a year. What amazes me most is that regardless of how much time passes, whenever we see this person it feels like we were never apart. Every hour stretches on as if in slow motion and I always feel as though I'm aware of every passing minute.

I was so grateful to see this guy because it was such a good reminder that there are great people in the world who are so willing to set aside their personal agendas to serve others. People who refuse to let difficult circumstances from their past dictate their future. People who are genuinely more concerned with the well-being of others than themselves. I can't help but be inspired when I see all that this friend has had to endure in his lifetime and yet how willing he is to lay down his life for others. I marvel at his strength, conviction and discipline and I just wanted to take a moment to honor and thank him.

Thank you, Jack Bauer, for all that you do. Thank you for thwarting multiple assassination attempts, uncovering major political conspiracies, disarming nuclear bombs and helping put an end to terrorist acts on American soil. And thank you for doing it all without ever taking a break to use the bathroom, eat a sandwich or even take a sip of water. I know it must have been very difficult for you to have to bite out that guy's jugular just minutes after returning from spending twenty months being tortured in a Chinese prison but we, the American citizens, greatly appreciate all you've sacrificed for this great nation. And I'm so grateful to have you back in our lives. I look forward to seeing much more of you in January. Can't wait, my old friend!

The Comeback Kids

2008-08-29T10:11:00.004-04:00

This summer's surprise hit on ABC Family is "The Secret Life of the American Teenager." Not that I watch it, of course, because I'm way too mature for shows targeting 12-year old viewers, but I did happen to notice that the woman playing the pregnant teen's mom is none other than 80's teen queen and hero to red-headed, pasty-skin girls everywhere, Molly Ringwald! Don't believe me? Take a look. Molly then and Molly now (posing with a man who looks nothing like Jake Ryan...oh, Molly, what went wrong?)

Since seeing Molly pop up on "The Secret Life..." which, to reiterate, is a show I totally do not watch, I've started seeing quite the resurgence of dearly loved stars from the 80's and early-90's thrust back in the spotlight. I suppose all of this started a couple years ago when Ducky popped up on "Two and a Half Men," which I most certainly have never watched because I refuse to see anything starring Charlie Sheen with the exception of Major League because it's a) about the Cleveland Indians and b) one of the greatest movies of our day. Ducky doesn't really look all that different, now does he?

There is yet another shocking casting decision of the aforementioned "The Secret Life..." which, seriously, I really don't watch. Get off my back about it already. But I may have at one point been quickly flipping by the station and saw none of than Melrose Place's Jane Mancini (Josie Bissett) and Bo freakin' Duke from Dukes of Hazzard. Amazing!

Perhaps the two comebacks I'm most excited about have yet to hit your TV screen. First up, on the highly anticipated 90210, (which I have absolutely no intention of watching because as I mentioned earlier I am way too mature and could care less about what's going to happen when guidance counselor, Kelly Taylor and West Beverly's guest musical director, Brenda Walsh finally face off after years of estrangement due mostly to the Dylan McKay love triangle debacle), Aunt Becky is back!! That's right, kids. This generation's Cindy Walsh will be played by none other than Lori Loughlin who looks as hot as ever. Uncle Jesse, eat your heart out!

And last but not least, I saw a preview last night for a new show on TNT (yeah, I didn't know TNT put out their own shows either...I thought they just showed Shawshank Redemption marathons all day, too) called Raising the Bar starring--ladies, take a moment to prepare yourself--Mark-Paul Gosselaar. Oh Zack Morris, I have missed you so! I hope now that you're a big fancy lawyer you can afford a cell phone smaller than a boombox.

That's all I have in the world of TV comebacks but there are still a few lost stars out there I'd like to see return. Could someone please track down Steve Urkel, Blossom, Punky Brewster, Kelly Kapowski and ALF?

Fortune telling

2008-08-28T20:13:00.000-04:00

I just ate Chinese for dinner and naturally couldn't complete my meal without a fortune cookie. I cracked it open and this is what my fortune said:

Smile if you like this fortune cookie.

I'm not sure that classifies as a "fortune" per se, but it worked.

America's Got What??

2008-08-25T17:14:00.005-04:00

Can someone please explain America's Got Talent to me? Not the concept of the show. I get that. Just explain why it's on TV in the first place and how the heck it manages to get viewers. As far as I can tell, it's a "talent" show (and I use the term talent loosely here) for singers not good enough to make American Idol, dancers who can't hack it on So You Think You Can Dance, comedians not funny enough to last on Last Comic Standing, and obnoxious kids (and even more obnoxious stage moms) desperately in need of this generation's Star Search.

And don't even get me started on the judges. For starters, two of them aren't even American. And one of them is David Hasselhoff. You've got one judge famous for being married to a bat-eating, drugged-out, has-been rocker, another judge famous for arguing with Omarosa on Celebrity Apprentice and one judge most famous for talking to a car and running in slow motion in swim trunks. Oh, and I think he performed on top of the Berlin wall at one point in his life but if I'm not mistaken, so did Alvin & the Chipmunks so apparently the Berlin wall is not so picky about performers.

Why are these people responsible for judging America's talent? And why am I supposed to care? Seriously. These are the questions I want answered.

Nancy Floyd, Winningest Olympian of All Time

2008-08-19T09:32:00.001-04:00

Watching the Olympics has gotten me thinking about my own capabilities and what I'm truly good at in life. Sure there are people in the world who can do back handsprings on a balance beam, swim the length of a pool in record time or hit a badminton shuttlecock (dirty) at speeds upwards of 200 mph, but are any of those skills really useful? Will you ever be forced to tumble across a four-inch platform without losing your balance? Are you ever going to be in such a hurry to get somewhere that you decide to swim there? Will you ever need to pummel someone in the face with a shuttlecock (dirty) to keep them from causing you harm? Doubtful. So why are these Olympic events then? Sure I couldn't take a gold in any of the things that the Olympic Committee deems worthy, but there are a few things I'm quite sure I could find victory in, if only the powers-that-be would acknowledge their significance. Here are a list of the activities I could take a gold in, if only given the opportunity:

1. Eating my weight in cupcakes. I'm quite certain I could set a record in both the number of cupcakes consumed and the time in which they were eaten. A useful, tasty event that brings smiles to people everywhere.

2. Handheld Yahtzee. In my mind I've come up with guidelines and rules for tournament play and sometimes when I'm playing, I imagine the voices of commentators dissecting my every turn and talking with wonder about what a Yahtzee prodigy I am (and at such a young age with no formal training). Don't tell anyone that though. It's kind of embarrassing.

3. Texting. Bonus points for using proper grammar, spelling and capitalization. Deductions for using abbreviations such as 2 for to, 4 for for, b4 for before or any teenage-derived acronyms such as TTYL, OMG or LOL. I loathe people that do any of those. Seriously. If you send me a text, write the whole word or don't bother texting me at all.

4. Flat-ironing. Although I'm sure I probably couldn't set a record for fastest time, I am confident in my abilities to secure a place on the podium for straightest outcome. For those of you who have ever seen my hair after it dries naturally, you can attest that my abilities to straighten are awe-inspiring.

5. All-around. They have a gymnastics all-around competition. Why not just a person all-around? Because I'm pretty sure I would win. Because I'm pretty sure I'm the most awesome person you've ever met. Am I right?

What events could you take a gold in?

Team USA

2008-08-18T09:22:00.002-04:00

Hi friends. Sorry I've been a little MIA from the blogosphere lately. I've been a bit preoccupied with a little thing I like to call the Olympics. Have you heard of it? I know what you're thinking: the Olympics didn't start until 08.08.08 and I stopped blogging well before that. But I was also a bit preoccupied with a little thing I like to call my life. Have you heard of it?

I would be remiss to talk about the Olympics without mentioning Michael freaking Phelps, most winningest Olympian of all time! (PS. Why is winningest a word??) Eight gold medals in one Olympics. Wow. Can I just say that I'm glad it's all over? A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that he's finally done it. It's a lot of pressure to be a fan and it takes a lot of work. You have to stay up until ungodly hours of the night in order to see events live so that certain websites don't ruin the results for you by posting them where they can't be ignored (you know you who are, Yahoo homepage). You have to be willing to yell at your television set unabashedly as though your screams might give those athletes the extra oomph they need to succeed. And you have to pay close enough attention to whatever Bob Costas says so that you can carry on an intelligent conversation about those athletes as though you've been following them for years and not just figuring out who they are because NBC won't run anything except short video montages about them every ten minutes.

Speaking of, did you know that Michael Phelps consumes 12,000 calories a day? I'm not sure why this is news. I consume roughly 12,000 calories a day myself and the Associated Press has not offered to run a story on me once. Apparently, you have to be half-dolphin for anything you do to be noteworthy.

Am I the only person who watches the Olympics and thinks, I could probably do that? It doesn't look that hard? Check back tomorrow when I post about the Olympic events I'm certain I could take home a gold in. Maybe even eight golds.

Wisdom of my Mothers, pt. 4

2008-08-01T09:05:00.000-04:00

As you can tell from my recent posts, I've been influenced by a lot of women. And there are a whole lot more women that shared their wisdom with me than the three I highlighted. I wish I could write a blog dedicated to each of the women that have shaped and challenged my life, but I figured that no one would be interested in a 200-part series on that. So I'm wrapping it up today. I chose, this week, to write about the three women who have probably influenced me the most as a child. As I've grown into a woman (this is starting to sound like an awkward after-school special, huh?), so many other women have played a role in influencing my life. Perhaps I will dedicate another week of blogs to them in the future. Other aunts, friends, cousins, sisters and in-laws. All of whom have impacted me tremendously.

But enough about me already. What's the greatest piece of advice or wisdom you received from your mother? If you don't answer, I swear to God I'll pull this car over...

Wisdom of my Mothers, pt. 3

2008-07-31T09:46:00.003-04:00

An aunt by any other name would still be as sweet. Or would she? Today, I'll be talking about my aunt Rosie, who incidentally happens to be one of the sweetest people I've ever met. And I'm not just saying that because we're related. Most of my family is crazy and I have absolutely no issue telling the world, but Rosie really is genuinely great (and relatively normal).

As a kid, I spent a lot of long weekends at my aunt Rosie's house because she lived a few hours away but she was always so happy to have me. (Or at least it seemed like she was.) It's tough to identify just one lesson I've learned from her, but if I had to (and I guess for the purposes of this blog, I'm forcing myself to), I'd say it was to Put others first and support them in any way you can.

If I had to pick just one word to describe Rosie (and I guess for the purposes of this blog, I'm forcing myself to), it would have to be supportive. She has always gone well out of her way to support and encourage those around her, including yours truly. Whatever my current dream or obsession was, she always found a way to get behind me in it. When I wanted to be a ninja turtle, she offered to make the colored face masks. When I wanted to be a professional Christian music groupie, she supplied the snacks for the road trips. When I showed her the first book I ever wrote at age 7 (a riveting tale about a cow and a mouse, aptly titled "The Cow and the Mouse"), she practically submitted it for Pulitzer consideration.

And it wasn't just me.

She supports everyone, always ready with a word of encouragement and the most excited response you'd ever hope to receive. Whether it's in relationships, career choices, creative endeavors or ventures towards becoming a nunchucks-wielding mutant reptile, Rosie will find a way to support you, which, let's be honest, is something we all desperately need in our lives. It's scary to step out into unknown territory, going after a dream or taking a risk, and having someone like her cheer you on makes it seem a whole lot less intimidating.

It's no secret to those who know me that I have a lot of big dreams I'd like to fulfill in this lifetime. What I've discovered about having big dreams is that there are a whole lot of people who will tell you that it's never going to happen and that you're stupid or crazy for trying. That's why I'm so thankful for the aunt Rosies in my life, who keep cheering me on and genuinely believe that I can do it, even when I lack the faith myself. And as important as those people are in my life, I try as often as possible to be that in the lives of others.

We all need an aunt Rosie in our life. And if you'd ever like to borrow mine, she's available for lease on weekends and major holidays.

Wisdom of my Mothers, pt. 2

2008-07-30T19:32:00.004-04:00

If you read yesterday's blog, you'll probably find it easy to understand why as a kid I needed to get out of the house once in awhile and how desperately I craved a place of sanity every so often. That came in the form of my aunt Eileen's house. It's probably the single place I spent the most time as a kid and teenager (due largely in part to the fact that her daughter was my closest friend in the world).

Eileen taught me a great deal of valuable life lessons and helped shape my personal faith, but the piece of wisdom that stands out the most whenever I think of her is that You're never too old to act silly and have fun. Eileen was a lot of things but boring was not one of them. Whenever we were hanging out, it was easy to forget she was an adult (which anyone who has ever been a kid knows is the greatest compliment that can be paid to a grown-up).

She slid across the kitchen floor in her socks with us, taught us a secret language and helped us make cookie dough with no real intention of ever baking cookies (and she never once told us we would die from salmonella after eating the raw dough). When we put on choreographed dance performances in the living room, she served to be a great audience (when she wasn't dancing with us, of course). When we were bored out of our minds, she'd be the one to come into the living room with an armful of board games (she still does this by the way...every time I'm home). Most importantly, she found a reason to laugh at pretty much anything in life (unless of course one of her kids was getting run over by a tractor, but even that is funny now that the injuries that were sustained have long since healed). She was fun! And a grown-up! It seems an impossible combination, no?

The strangest thing I've observed about getting older is that you don't feel any different on the inside. Sure, the circumstances change. You trade softball practice for paying bills, sleepovers for dinner parties, passing notes for exchanging email. But you don't feel any different. There can be a certain social pressure to grow up, act your age or start being an adult (whatever that means). I've seen a lot of adults lose a great deal of their youthful joy and silliness for the sake of being a "responsible, respectable adult." Not Eileen though. She was the picture of responsibility and integrity, but she managed to have a whole lot of fun as well. Hang out with her for twenty minutes and you'll have a really good idea of what she must have been like at age fourteen even though these days she's, um...let's just say she's past fourteen.

She's taught me how to be a mature, responsible adult without losing the fun-loving, childish joy within. She taught me that regardless of your age or season of life, there's always some reason to break into song, dance across the kitchen, eat raw cookie dough or laugh with your friends over nothing at all. In a nutshell, she taught me to have fun and it's something I really appreciate because honestly, who wants to be a boring old adult anyway?

Wisdom of my Mothers, pt. 1

2008-07-29T10:09:00.010-04:00

I couldn't write a blog about the "mothers" who have influenced me without writing about my aunt Theresa. She's the one who physically cared for and raised my brother, sister and I when she took us in 20 years ago. (For those of you not great at math, I was 7 when we moved in.)

Eccentric. Unique. Different. Crazy. Out of her mind. There are a lot of ways to describe Theresa but insecure wouldn't be one of them. Without question, the number one lesson I learned from her was Don't worry what other people think about you. She usually added a few expletives when sharing this wisdom with others (including me as a 7-year old child), but it's a mantra she's lived by as long as I've known her. She genuinely doesn't care what other people think about her. She doesn't care if people make fun of her clothes (98% of which are slogan tees that say something about the fact that she is a bus driver, a grandmother or some combination of the two of those things). She doesn't care if people make fun of her habits (garage "sale-ing" every Thursday morning, or anytime she drives by a sign for one even if one of her adopted daughters is in the front seat crying with what might turn out to be a broken arm...and it was broken, by the way). She doesn't care if people make fun of her home (filled with random junk from said garage sales, including an impressive collection of taxidermied animal heads, none of which my uncle Eddie actually hunted and killed himself). She just doesn't care.

And she taught me not to care.

She didn't always share her "wisdom" on the matter with me in the most delicate way. Usually I'd be crying/angry/frustrated/upset/whining/ whimpering in the corner as a child because some mean girl had said something at school or my fourth grade crush didn't share my feelings and Theresa, tactful as always, would demand to know why I was crying and then promptly tell me to get over it; that I couldn't spend my life worrying about what other people said about me or did to me. As an 8-year old I didn't fully grasp the concept, given that life solely revolved around whose best friend you were that week and what boy did or didn't like you. But as I got older, it started to make sense.

In some ways, I was forced to learn this lesson because the aforementioned house full of junk and random taxidermied animals? Yeah, I lived there. I also should mention the fact that the collection of "valuable antiques" (read: fancy words for junk) wasn't limited to the interior of the house. The lawn was littered with a rather unique collection of items, most notably half of a boat positioned to look as though it was sinking into our front yard. In the small town of Columbia Station, Ohio where I was raised, our house was a well-known landmark. Seriously. People gave directions based on "the house with the half-sunken boat in the front yard." Whenever I told people I lived on Snell Road, their first question would be "Where do you live as opposed to the house with all the crap in the yard?" Hang a left right there. That'd be the one. And yes, I had to stand at the end of the driveway every morning and get on the bus there, despite how badly I wanted to walk down the street three houses to get on the bus with my cousins at their normal, non-half-sunken-boat-filled front yard.

Regardless of her unorthodox methods, Theresa taught me what is probably the most valuable lesson I've ever learned: to be confident in who I am and what I'm doing, regardless of what people have to say about it. I'm certain it's the only reason I made it through high school unscathed and uninfluenced, why I had the courage to move 8 hours away from home at age 17, why I've never been afraid to stand up for what I believe in and how I have the strength to look people in the eye these days and tell them I'm trying to be a writer. It also probably explains why 90% of the time I have absolutely no qualms acting like a total moron.

So here's to you, Mother Theresa! Thanks for embarrassing me just the right amount (or maybe a bit more than necessary) to help me develop the kind of confidence and security you walk with every day of your life. Despite the fact that I still think you're absolutely insane, I know you could care less. And that's what I love most about you!

My Many Mothers

2008-07-28T11:13:00.002-04:00

For those of you that don't me or my story, my mom died when I was really young. I don't remember much about her and I still miss her terribly, but as I've gotten older I've started to realize how fortunate I've been. Where most people only have one mom (maybe two if your parents are divorced and got remarried) to guide, instruct, support, encourage and shape them, I've known the privilege of having about 10 moms. I've always been surrounded by incredible (and slightly crazy) women who have mothered me in a number of ways. I've had the luxury of learning valuable life lessons from a vast array of women, all of whom have played a different motherly role in my life.

So this week I'm writing a series of blogs dedicated to them, my many mothers. The women who have shaped, challenged, inspired, and encouraged me. The women who have made me the person I am today. A really awesome person at that. So this week's blogs are going to be about the greatest lessons I've learned from my many mothers. Hope you enjoy!

My week...

2008-07-26T13:17:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted all week. I suck. I know. But, in case you were curious, here are a list of some highlights from my week.

1. Hearing Sufjan Stevens in the grocery store: I'm floored, Marsh! I didn't know you had such good taste in indie rock. Consider me impressed.

2. Being told I look like Hannah Montana: A friend of mine allegedly glanced at a Tiger Beat magazine in the check-out line (or perhaps his own mailbox, who knows?) and saw Hannah Montana on the cover and thought---what else?---Nancy. Really!?!? It's not everyday that I'm compared to a 15-year old, or a world famous one at that, so I'm choosing to take this as a compliment. If nothing else, I'm hoping it scores me some major cool points with my niece.

3. Seeing Comfort get the boot on SYTYCD: Comfort has been eliminated. Again. Finally.

4. Getting a pair of super cool pants at Anthropologie for 9 bucks: OK, this technically happened a couple of weeks ago, but this week was the first time I wore the nine-dollar pants so it counts. I love a good deal! Especially when it's on something that makes me look super cute (as if I need any help. Apparently, I look like Hannah Montana.).

5. Dollar Ice Cream Cone Day at Handel's: Today is dollar ice cream day at Handel's, arguably the greatest ice cream parlor in the entire universe (although ice cream parlors on the dwarf planet of Makemake have not been sampled yet at the time this blog was written). Apparently, it's a celebration all day today at Handel's. A celebration of what, I'm not sure, but who am I to argue with the ice cream gods when they choose to bestow tasty treats on me for the low, low price of one hundred pennies?

Want to have a highlight in your upcoming week? Stop by the Cheesecake Factory on Wednesday, July 30 to observe National Cheesecake Appreciation Day and get a slice of cheesecake for only $1.50! One slice per guest. Dine-in guests only. I'm thinking about camping out in the parking lot. Anyone wanna join me?

Little Planet, Big Universe

2008-07-21T23:14:00.003-04:00

There's been a new discovery in our solar system. That's right, folks. A new midget planet--I'm sorry, I meant to use the more politically correct term--a dwarf planet has been discovered just beyond Neptune. For those of you keeping track, this is the fourth dwarf planet to be discovered in recent years. Three more to go until we'll finally become Mother Earth and the Seven Dwarfs (planets).

According to the article, the dwarf planet was discovered by the International Astronomical Union. You may remember the IAU as the planetary powers-that-be that made the unpopular decision to demote Pluto from its status as planet a few years ago, a decision that still grieves me greatly. How do kids remember the names and order of the planets these days? Every time I need to list the planets of the Solar System in order (which is all the time, trust me) I rely on the simple sentence I learned as a child: My Very Eager Mother Just Sold Uncle Ned's Pants. But now, since there's no Pluto, my sentence becomes: My Very Eager Mother Just Sold Uncle Ned's. Uncle Ned's what!? What did my mother sell that belonged to uncle Ned?? Oh, the agony of not knowing! It's awful! I think someone has given the IAU just a little too much authority. You don't just go around demoting planets from being planets. What did Pluto ever do to you? Everyone always picks on the little guy. Back to the topic at hand...

The IAU has also selected a name for the fourth dwarf planet. Sleepy? No. Sneezy? Not so much. Dopey? I wish. Doc? Nada. They named it Makemake. This name alone should prove to the world that the members of the IAU are in no position to make decisions of any kind ever again. That's just my personal opinion. The man behind the name, we'll call him "Mike Brown" (because that's his name) was quoted as saying, "We consider the naming of objects in the Solar System very seriously." Really, Mike? Do you? And "Makemake" was the best you could come up with? This coming from a guy whose previous name selection for this dwarf planet was "Easterbunny." I think Mr. Brown might be a 4 year old girl. I'm just saying.

In any case, welcome Makemake (or the dwarf planet formerly known as Easterbunny) to our planetary family! We welcome you with open arms and promise to treat you with the utmost respect. And don't believe a word Jupiter says; size really doesn't matter.

Let us...

2008-07-18T14:20:00.000-04:00

Summer Lovin'

2008-07-17T09:56:00.005-04:00

I'm not really a summer person. Typically I view summer as the three to four months between season finales and season premieres where I avoid direct sunlight at all costs and try to get from one air conditioned place to the next air conditioned place in the least amount of time possible. As far as I'm concerned, since I'm no longer in school thus receiving three months vacation, the only thing summer really has to offer is a valid excuse to eat ice cream every day but let's be honest, I've never been one to shy away from hitting up the DQ in the dead of winter. So summer doesn't have a whole lot going for it. Until now.

Not since the days when Zack Morris and the gang left Bayside to work for Mr. Carosi at that fancy Malibu beach club have I been so excited about television in the summer. But 2008 might just go down in history as one fantastic summer of televisiony goodness. First, there was The Bachelorette and although it didn't end well (DeAnna, I'm coming for you), it provided nonstop entertainment for the first half of summer. As if that wasn't enough (and no, it wasn't enough), So You Think You Can Dance, now in its 4th season is better than ever! The dancers are better, Cat's dresses are better, even Mary's crazy rants are better (she told a dancer this season that he belonged "in the tra-la-la phase of her heart"). It's just flat out good! And as if that wasn't enough (and no, it wasn't enough), the surprise hit for the summer (for me anyways) is Wipeout, where as far as I can tell, the only premise is to make people fall down and look like morons in the funniest way possible. Like this girl...

Or this guy...

And as if all of that wasn't enough (and no, it wasn't enough), last night brought the greatest summer gift of all: a new season of Project Runway. This is Project Runway's last season on Bravo. Have you heard? Next season, they're moving to the Lifetime Network so I'm pretty sure that means the show will feature an unwed teenage mother on the run from her abusive boyfriend, a murderous seductress suffering from amnesia after getting hit by a car and Tori Spelling. So tune in now before they bring on the soft focus and dim lighting.

I'm proud to say that I'm officially beginning to like summer. Now if only we could do something about this whole sunshine thing.

Tales from the Crib

2008-07-15T12:38:00.004-04:00

The great philosopher Bill Cosby once said, "Kids say the darndest things," and I have to agree. After spending five days with my brother's five kids (pictured below) I learned some valuable lessons on life. I'm beginning to think kids have it all together and we adults are the ones that are screwed up. If only we could live life according to their example. Here are the top three lessons I learned this week from the brilliant kiddos...

(Pictured from left: Jordan, 11, Owen, 6 months, Caleb, 2, Gabby, 5, Dylan, 4)

Lesson #1: The first priority in life is to play.

Every morning I was greeted by the same question, Aunt Nancy, what are we gonna do today? There were several variations of this question: Aunt Nancy, will you play with me? Aunt Nancy, where are we going to play today? Aunt Nancy, when does the playing start? Aunt Nancy, how long until the playing takes place? You get the point. The kids had one focus and one focus only: to have fun. They weren't worried about a to-do list, preparing for their future or doing any work. Their work was to play. Brilliant! Lately, I've taken this philosophy on in my own life. Obviously as adults we need to work to make a viable income unless we're independently wealthy. I have been yet unsuccessful in figuring out exactly how one becomes independently wealthy so I realize work is a necessary evil and takes up a giant chunk of our time. The average American works a minimum of 40 hours a week which is about 1/4th of our lives. Do you really want to spend that time in a job that makes you miserable or doing something you hate? I don't. I don't want my work to feel like work. I want it to feel like one giant day at the park, minus the blazing temperatures and pesky mosquitos. There's obviously something in life that makes you remotely happy (at least I hope there is) so find out what it is and figure out a way to make money at it. That's what I'm trying to do. Now if only I could get paid to eat ice cream....

Lesson #2: Speak what's on your mind.

Kids have absolutely no problem telling you exactly what they're thinking. Within minutes of arriving at our house, my nephew Jordan commented on how dusty one of our windows was. When I cooked stuffed shells for dinner and asked Gabby how she liked them, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "They're ok." When I had to spank Dylan for disobeying, he looked me in the eyes and said "Me not cry when you spank me." Kids have zero filter which, ok, isn't always the best thing, particularly when sharing negative feelings about someone's cleaning abilities, cooking abilities, or spanking abilities, but all in all, we could use a little more open honesty in our lives. Most of our relational issues come as a result of being unable or unwilling to tell others how we're really feeling. But if we could get past our own insecurity and fear and open up about how we're truly feeling, we could eliminate serious conflict in our lives and even make somebody's day in the process. One night as we were sitting around having dinner, Gabby looked up at me and said, "Every time I look at you, you're so pretty." Truer words have never been spoken.

Lesson #3: Napping should be mandatory.

Look, contrary to what you may believe, no one wants to deal with Captain Crankypants, ok? It's a proven fact that napping makes you happy. When you're happy, you're friendlier to be around and when you're friendly, people like you. Ergo, napping makes people like you. So stop fighting it. Take a nap once in awhile. It does a body good.

The end is near...

2008-07-14T10:12:00.004-04:00

Again I apologize for my unexplained absence. I have spent the past week in seclusion mourning the departure of single dad, Jason from the final episode of the Bachelorette! DeAnna, what were you thinking!? How could you do this to me? I put a lot of trust in you, DeAnna and I was willing to overlook the obnoxious blinking (which I'm beginning to think is a serious medical condition) and your lack of personality, but forget it now. You and I are through. You do not get my final rose. Instead I ask you, will you accept my punch in the face and kick in the shin?

Talking about the Bachelorette season finale got me thinking about something deeper though: I really don't like endings. In fact, I think I have a real problem with them. I mean, not the ending of reality shows (although I'm not a big fan of those either) but endings in life. Ask my friends. I'm the last one to leave a party (unless my husband drags me begrudgingly out the door before then), I'm the teary-eyed girl driving away from the airport after dropping off a friend and I'm filled with a bit of sadness as I read the final pages of a book. Seriously. I really have a problem with things ending. It's kind of weird but it penetrates every area of my life. When I wash the dishes, I usually leave one unclean thing in the sink. When the shampoo bottle is nearly empty, I move onto the new bottle rather than finishing off the original. When I walk out of a movie theater, I feel a great deal of disappointment that I've seen the whole movie and will never watch it afresh again. All of this comes as a great deal of frustration to my husband whose obsession with things being done, empty and completed is nearly as strong as my aversion to those things. He loves nothing more than checking something off his list, throwing away an empty bottle or carton and seeing the end of something. I, on the other hand: not so much.

Even as I'm wrapping up my thoughts in this blog, I find myself growing a bit misty-eyed. I just don't think I can bring myself to end it. So I won't. I will just keep writing my thoughts and in the middle of one of those brilliant gems of wisdom I'll just stop writing and won't allow you to know what was going to....

Tennis and Emmys and Bachelorettes, oh my!

2008-07-07T09:07:00.004-04:00

Woah...I've been totally MIA from the blogosphere lately and for that, I apologize. I know how so many of you wait in eager anticipation for a little sprinkling of Nancy wisdom in your life and how gravely disappointed you are when I leave you hanging. There's nothing more rewarding than coming to the blog and seeing a fresh posting awaiting your review. I understand the feeling. I'm filled with the same joy every time I drive by a Krispy Kreme and the "Hot Now" light is shining in the window, beckoning me in. A lot has happened in the world in the past week or so and I figured I'd give you an update.

Nadal Won Wimbledon! I don't even watch or pay attention to tennis but I know enough to know this was shocking! And apparently it was quite a game. Or match. Or set. Or whatever it is they call it in tennis. While we're on the subject, how confusing is the scoring in tennis? The points system is totally random (0, 15, 30, 40, win....who came up with that crap?) and then you have to win a certain number of games to win a set, and then a certain number of sets to win a match and so on. Do they really have to make it that difficult to follow? Are they trying to get people to not be fans of the sport? How about this, tennis gods? First one to 100 wins. Sounds easy enough to me. You can even make it 200 for Wimbledon. I hereby grant you permission to use the official Nancy Floyd method of tennis scoring.

So You Think You Can Dance rocked my face off! Seriously. I am faceless. It's a little weird but people are getting used to it. But this week's show was amazing which makes it perfectly fine. Twice the dancing meant half of the judges incoherent ramblings about hot tamale trains, kick-ball-changes or the history of every style of dance known to man (thank you, Nigel). Here is my assessment: Mia Michaels is a freak of nature (and I mean that in the nicest way possible). Like Helen Hunt made Jack Nicholson want to be a better man, Mia Michaels makes me want to be a better dancer. Or a dancer at all, since I highly doubt the spastic way I flail my body about to music would ever be considered dancing. Josh & Katee are amazing (as are Twithington & Chelsea and Mark, the boy who still strongly reminds me of a flying monkey from Oz, but in a really good way!). I have one question though: Where in the world are Shane Sparks & Wade Robson!?! Perhaps we need to piece together some clues to find them. I tracked down Carmen Sandiego in the 5th grade....surely I can find Shane & Wade.

Britney got snubbed for an Emmy nomination! Not sure why this is news. Apparently everyone is up in arms about this "oversight" but I have a very complex, logical and well thought-out conclusion as to why this happened: she sucks as an actress! Not a talented bone in her body, in fact, and yet we're all still wasting valuable time and breath discussing this. Not sure why. Even Doogie Howser didn't have pleasant things to say about her after she was a guest star and if you can't get a kind word out of Doogie, that speaks volumes.

Hannah got married! My friend, Hannah got married this weekend and had a make-your-own-burrito bar for dinner (compliments of Baja Burrito in Nashville), which leads me to my new favorite wedding idea: serving original food at the reception! You can only eat so many plates of baked chicken, vegetable medley and rice pilaf before wanting to stab yourself in the eye and pray that your friends run off and elope. So I applaud you, Hannah!

The Bachelorette is down to the top two men! In an upset nearly as shocking as Wimbledon, DeAnna sent home Jeremy last Monday night, leaving single dad, Jason and pro snowboarder, Jesse. Jeremy was the only viable threat I saw to DeAnna picking Jason so I'm happy to see him go, although he did look really, really heartbroken. Don't worry, Jeremy. I know about 10 single girls (and even a few married ones) who will happily take your mind of DeAnna. The big finale is tonight so set your DVR's!! And if, in a horrible lapse of judgement, DeAnna decides not to pick Jason, plan to meet at my place immediately following the finale to plan an elaborate house-egging, car-keying, yard-forking revenge plot against her.

That's the week in news, as far as I'm concerned. I'm sure some important things happened in the Middle East or on the campaign trail, but let's be honest, you don't care about that nearly as much as reality TV.

America the Moderately Attractive

2008-07-04T06:00:00.002-04:00

Happy 4th of July fellow Americans! Today is our nation's 232nd birthday! America, you don't look a day over 225. Seriously. I mean that. You can't celebrate the 4th of July without reflecting on what it means for our country. Today is our Independence Day. The anniversary of 2 days after our founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence (they actually signed it on the 2nd, not the 4th. I just learned that this week, thank you, Yahoo News!). The day that we declared our freedom and broke away from England's formidable rule and I just have one question...

WHAT WERE WE THINKING!?! England is freaking awesome! Why wouldn't we want them to govern us? I hate to say it but we may have made a terrible mistake. Think about it. Think of all the things that England has added to the world in the past 232 years and all the things America has added. England gave the world the Beatles and Coldplay. America crapped on everyone by turning out stellar acts like O-Town and 98 Degrees. England brought us the Land Rover and Jaguar. America dished up a nice Ford Taurus and Chevy Malibu. England can boast such fine actors as Sir Michael Caine, Sir Ian McKellen and smokin' hot Jude Law. America puts out films with scintillating stars like Jessica Simpson, Lindsay Lohan and Shia LaBeouf. The Brits are responsible for the faux-hawk, while all America can really claim is the mullet. And the British have somehow made that cool!!!

So I say, England come rule us! We want you back. It's not you, it's us. We made a big mistake. Please forgive us. We promise to be submissive and obedient. And we won't even make fun of your powdered wigs or the way you spell words like color (colour). We love you, England and we want--no, we need--you back in our lives! Please hurry! And bring some Cadbury chocolates with you.

The dawning of a new day...

2008-06-30T20:01:00.006-04:00

Quiet yourself down and listen closely. Do you hear that sound? It's the sound of angels singing and coffee brewing. The heavenlies are rejoicing because a brand new Dunkin' Donuts opened today less than a mile from my house! It is a glorious land flowing with iced coffee and boston cream. Kyle took the day off work today (not technically because of the new DD, although I think that weighed heavily on his decision) so we rode our bikes up to scope out the new place. Please note: this blog does not condone a lifestyle habit of daily donut consumption, but rather a healthy, responsible balance of exercise and gluttony. As always, the double D did not disappoint. The iced coffee was made to perfection, the donut selection was divine and there was a teenage boy dressed in a giant Dunkin' Donut Coffee Cup costume. Brilliant. We actually had quite a nice conversation with him, although it's a bit difficult to take someone seriously when they are a walking, talking giant cup o' joe.

My only dilemma with this new Dunkin' Donuts location is that it resides in the same parking lot as my beloved ice cream shop, Handel's. I'm no fortune-teller but I foresee a summer filled with various donut/ice cream concoctions. No one has a problem when you drink a cup of coffee with your donut, so why shouldn't I be able to have a coffee-chocolate-chip ice cream cone with my eclair? I really see no difference. Here's to a summer of sweet, sweet memories!

In the year 2000...

2008-06-27T09:24:00.002-04:00

Is anyone else a little disappointed that we're 8 years into the new millennium and there are no flying cars, vacations to the moon or machines that completely get you dressed and ready for the day in less than a minute? I mean, where are the robotic maids and the communication systems that project the caller's face onto your wall while you speak? Why don't we have aliens as pets and houses that resemble the Space Needle? Why can't everything be done for us by the push of a button? Apparently, all of my ideas about life in the future stem from various episodes of the Jetsons. But still. What's a sister gotta do to get a decent flying suit, ultra-sonic shower or a boss named Mr. Spacely?

Three men have won my heart...

2008-06-26T09:47:00.007-04:00

...And they are, in no particular order, Jason, Jeremy & Jesse from the Bachelorette!

I know you must be shocked to learn that someone as intelligent, serious and political as myself would every find a frivolous show like the Bachelorette entertaining. Especially since most of my television viewing time is spent focused on shows that are thought-provoking, meaningful and dedicated to the real issues, like American Gladiators, Gossip Girl, the Hills, and Gilmore Girls (may they rest in peace). I actually got tricked into watching the Bachelorette when ABC aired the premiere episode immediately after another, less embarrassing show that I was watching--The Bachelor: London Calling. Despite the fact that bachelorette, DeAnna is a compulsive blinker and seems to have misplaced her personality, I find myself totally rooting for her to marry one of these guys! And I'm legitimately going to be sad for the two of them she rejects.

This is what sets apart the Bachelorette from the Bachelor. On the Bachelor, when the man is in charge of picking the ladies, he seems to have three concerns: 1. Who's the hottest? 2. Who's the easiest? and 3. Who could make me the most famous? So when it comes down to the final rose ceremony, you're basically just hoping that the girl you hate the most gets sent home, while the girl you hate the second most gets her chance at a happily ever after or a two-week relationship, whichever comes first. But on the Bachelorette, when the women are in charge, they actually pick guys based on stuff that matters, like personality and character, so you find yourself caught up in it all, hoping she doesn't break some wonderful guy's heart and secretly planning to egg her house or key her car if she does. Do you want to know why I think this is? Of course you do. It's because women are smarter than men. It's a proven fact. This show does nothing if supports my claim. In all the seasons of this show, only one relationship has ended in marriage: Bachelorette Trista & her pick, Ryan. And they have a baby now so you know they're in it for the long haul. Therefore, 100% of the show's successful relationships came when a woman was responsible for the choosing. You can't argue with statistics like that.

At this point, I'm rooting for single dad, Jason to win. And if he doesn't, I might make it my personal mission in life to find him a wife. Maybe we can search far and wide and find 20 or 25 single women who are looking to get married, then have them all move into a mansion, while we arrange for Jason to take them out on completely unrealistic dates, sometimes individually, sometimes in groups. And then every week, he can keep around the women that he's the most interested in. We'll think of something really clever for him to give them as a symbol that he wants them to stay. Maybe a rose. That's romantic. We'll be sure to surround them in candles and flower petals every chance we get because that's what real life is like when you're in love, isn't it? And then, by the end of our experiment, he'll have found his one true love. Wait...this is starting to sound a bit too familiar.

Pet Peeves

2008-06-24T11:01:00.003-04:00

On any given day I'm annoyed by a number of things. Here are just a few of the most annoying...

1. Public restrooms without hooks: As if it's not hard enough for those of us with minimal calf muscles to balance ourselves over public toilets, do we really need to do it while carrying our purse/shopping bag/tote bag/computer bag? And what is it with stalls that clearly have a place where a hook once hung but the hook is nowhere to be found? Are there actually people in the world who have a bathroom stall hook collection? Consider them my personal arch-nemeses.

2. Cops who pull you over when you clearly have somewhere to be: I'm sorry, officer, but perhaps you failed to notice that I was speeding. Clearly I'm late for something really important. Can't you just pull me over at a more opportune time? Thanks!

3. Bugs: Just bugs in general. I know they serve some greater purpose in the world, but when they're hanging around my bathroom or kitchen or back patio, it seems their only purpose is to scare the crap out of me and strategically escape my frantic swings of various shoes, rolled-up newspaper or wadded paper towels. I do not see the greater good in bugs.

Gus the Avenger

2008-06-20T14:35:00.006-04:00

We recently discovered that some birds had set up shop inside our dryer vent. Not an easy task given the narrow entrance to said dryer vent, but somehow they managed to sneak in. The other day, Kyle set out to fix the problem. I mean, how hard could it be to clear out a few little sticks? The answer: insanely hard. Apparently, the birds have made our dryer vent their summer home for at least the past few years. Kyle kept extracting nesting materials by the handful and yet there was still more to remove. It would appear that the birds were not very fond of the hot air pumping through the vent so they set out to build a nearly impenetrable wall of sticks and hay. That would certainly explain why our clothes haven't gotten dry in nearly a month.

After carefully extracting a nest with several eggs in it, Kyle delicately placed it on our patio table and to my amazement I witnessed the miracle of birth. One of those creepy, featherless baby birds hatched out of his shell and proceeded to squirm across the table. Sadly, he didn't last too long. It could have had something to do with the fact that he no longer had a home or a mama bird to care for him. This is where the story takes a dramatic twist.

The next morning, I was sitting on our patio doing a little reading when a bird flew past me, peculiarly close to my face. Mere inches from me, it was as though he was stretching his wings to their furthest reach in an effort to slap me across the face! And then, I kid you not, he looked directly into my eyes and squawked. This was not a normal, friendly bird calling, nor a pleasant morning song. This was a vindictive cry of a birdie scorned. It was as if he were saying, "My name is Birdigo Montoya. You killed my baby. Prepare to die." I have been cowering in fear the past few days, as I'm certain the birds are out there, watching us, planning their gruesome assault. I have taken extra precaution to cover my head whenever outdoors.

But there is one thing I didn't consider. My faithful pup, Gus witnessed the whole account. Loyal 'til the end, Gus decided to fight back and last night he took matters into his own hands. Or paws, rather. After an evening in the yard, Gus deposited an unmistakable gift on our doorstep: a dead bird carcass. I can't be certain but I think Gus is walking a little taller today and seems to have a bit of a twinkle in his eye. So birds of the world (and assorted woodland creatures): beware! Vengeance belongs to Gus.

No animals were harmed in the creation of this blog. Except that one bird, of course.

It's complicated, guys. Seriously. Really Complicated.

2008-06-19T09:03:00.003-04:00

Denise Richards has a new reality show on E! called "Denise Richards: It's Complicated." I've watched an episode or two (I'm entitled to an afternoon of guilty pleasures from time to time) and I have to say, Denise, I hate to break this to you but it's really not that complicated. In fact, I think I can sum it up quite nicely. You're a B-list actress (or maybe C-list if we're being honest) who has made some really bad relationship choices (seriously, Richie Sambora should never, ever enter the picture. Ever.) and now live with your dad and your two children (who are adorable, by the way. The kids, not the dad.). The most complicated thing about your life is that you own, like, 15 dogs and a bunch of pigs (which I'm still trying to figure out by the way). So I think a more appropriate title for the show would be "Denise Richards: It's pretty much exactly how it should be."

Since we're talking about 80's rockers with really bad hair, People magazine's list of the Sexiest Bachelors of 2008 came out this week and check out who made the cut:

Bret Michaels!?!?! Seriously!??! How is it possible that this hunky slice of man-pie is still on the market? Especially after VH1 went through all that trouble to search far and wide to find such quality bachelorettes on Rock of Love (seasons 1 and 2). Oh Bret, you know what they say, every rose has its thorn.

Real Life: The New Video Game

2008-06-18T09:38:00.001-04:00

My brother-in-law got a Nintendo Wii for Christmas and on a recent trip to Georgia, we were introduced to the latest technological advancement in the world of video games. As everyone was gathered around for a cookout, my brother-in-law proudly asked the room, "Wanna play with my Wii?" which, first of all, seemed like a bit of an inappropriate question to ask in front of the children. When I realized he was talking about a video game console, I grabbed a seat on the couch and awaited the controller. Then he told me I had to stand up and physically act out the movements.

What!?

Call me crazy but that sounds an awful lot like actual activity. It turns out it's exactly like actual activity. You've got to swing the racket in tennis, roll the ball in bowling and throw real punches in boxing. So while it turned out that evidently I'm a Nintendo Wii prodigy, I was sore after a day of playing video games. Seriously. I know this isn't the most shocking news coming from an exercise-phobe like myself, but still.

The most bizarre part is that kids love this stuff. I thought the whole point of video games was to keep kids from having to exercise. If video games keep advancing like this, we'll soon get to the place where kids will actually start playing real sports again. I can see it now. "Hey Billy! Guess what I just saw? A giant, real-life video game down the street! There's this huge paved court with real baskets and lines painted on the ground and everything. And you actually get to hold the ball and throw it towards the hoop. How cool is that!?"

Nintendo Wii, what exactly is your hidden agenda here? Are you trying to manipulate our kids into getting off their lazy butts and physically exerting themselves? And what if the day comes when they no longer want to swing a make-believe racket in tennis or pretend bat in baseball? Have you heard of a little thing Al Gore likes to call "global warming?" If you keep pushing kids towards playing real sports again, soon they'll be playing them outside, exposed to potentially harmful UV rays and probably get skin cancer and die. Is that what you want, Nintendo? You should be ashamed of yourself.

A note on abstinence...

2008-06-17T09:17:00.001-04:00

Would you be comforted if your child came home wearing this?

In other news, this is just funny.

Things I'm Obsessing Over...

2008-06-16T10:06:00.007-04:00

I have somewhat of an addictive personality. When I find something I like I can't enjoy it from a distance like a normal person. Instead, I get totally hooked and completely obsess over it until some new fascination comes along that momentarily distracts me. While I realize this is not always a good thing, I've come to terms with it. Especially since most of my addictions are to television shows, games or food, and rarely to illegal or harmful substances. In any case, here's a look at my current obsessions...

1. Word Games on Facebook

Whether it's Scramble (basically a giant game of Boggle) or Scrabulous (based on, you guessed it, Scrabble) or Word Twist (which is a game that twists words?), I cannot stop playing word games on Facebook. Not only do I compulsively sign on to see if my friends have taken their turns, but I go through life as if I'm in one of these games. The other day while waiting at a stop sign, I came to the conclusion that there are at least 11 words* you can make out of the word "stop." Fascinating, no?

2. So You Think You Can Dance

Like "American Idol" for dancers but oh so much better. It's got the best of Idol (mean British judge, weekly eliminations, blond unnaturally tan host) with so, so much more. For starters, the crazy drunken judge on SYTYCD actually knows what she's talking about (that is, if you can understand her between all the screaming). And the talent is out of control this year. I have begun to seriously question if some of them have had their bones removed because it doesn't make sense to my mind how they can move their bodies that way. But it's entertaining nonetheless and if you haven't been watching, you need to! Wednesdays & Thursdays on Fox. You won't be disappointed! I'm giving you a Nancy Floyd guarantee.

3. Coke Zero

The same refreshing taste as Coca-Cola but with zero calories. Need I say more?

4. "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay

In less than 24 hours, Coldplay's fourth album is hitting stores and I might wet my pants with excitement. If their first single is any indication as to how amazing this album is going to be, I'm going to be listening to it nonstop for the next six months (My apologies to The Weepies...you may be demoted from album obsession as of tomorrow). And on a somewhat related note, I love that Chris Marten is married to Gwyneth Paltrow. How cute are they!?!

5. Gus (aka Sir Augustus Liam Floydingshire III, Gussypup, Gussaford)

As always, I'm obsessed with my amazing beagle, Gus. Just last night he crawled under the bed and laid there with only his nose sticking out from under the bed skirt. What's not to love?!

What about you? What are you currently obsessed with? Tell me so I can get hooked as well!

*Other words that can be formed from STOP: spot, pot, pots, post, top, tops, opt, opts, stop, sop, & sot

If I was a Superhero

2008-06-13T09:37:00.002-04:00

If I was a superhero, I would let everyone know it. I wouldn't carry on in my unremarkable, geeky existence letting my Lois Lane or Mary Jane Watson fall for every other non-superpower endowed mere mortal around. I would flaunt my superpowers, watch others marvel at my skills and regularly perform freakish demonstrations of strength at every get-together. Whenever I was at a wedding and the inevitable dance circle formed, causing floods of men, women and children to show off their latest and greatest hip hop moves, I would jump into the middle of the crowd and set a table on fire with the supersonic laser beam that shoots out of my eye.

If I was a superhero, I wouldn't wait until disaster strikes to rush off to a phone booth or closet to change into my superhero tights. I would wear them always, proudly, showing the world who I am and how prepared I am to fight evil. Besides, it takes me a really long time to change and get ready for anything, so if I wasn't already wearing my evil-fighting gear, I'd probably miss the disaster altogether, sacrificing innocent lives in the process. Unless of course the villains gave me ample warning which I think is unlikely. Evil villains are like those friends who never commit to plans but call you about ten minutes before they're heading out to some fun event and want to know if you'd like to tag along. As if you have nothing better to do. Oh yeah, you don't. But who can get ready in ten minutes anyway?

If I was a superhero, I would never fly commercial and have to deal with long security lines at the airport. I would fly myself and get close enough to the plane to wave at some lonely kid staring out the window, bored out of his mind, and totally freak him out. But I would never fly close enough to the plane that I could risk getting sucked into that wing engine and chopped into tiny pieces. Unless, of course, one of my superpowers was that I was indestructible when going through plane engines.

If I was a superhero, I'd be able to shoot whipped cream from my fingertips, which would never aid me in fighting evildoers, but would be convenient anytime my ice cream needed a quick fix. Because if I was a superhero, every time I saved the world from impending doom, I would reward myself with an ice cream sundae. I should also mention that if I was a superhero, I would be invincible to calories.

It's probably a good thing that I'm not a superhero because after awhile, I probably wouldn't have any friends. They'd constantly be comparing themselves to me and wondering if their normal, human eyes that don't do anything but see were as good as my superhero eyes that can shoot laser beams and see through walls. And they'd probably stop inviting me out to nice places because my cape and tights wouldn't meet the enforced dress code requirements. And sometimes when I hugged people, if I wasn't concentrating, I might shoot whipped cream out of my fingertips at them and ruin their new blouse or mess up their hair. And no one wants to be friends with someone like that. So for now, I will stay my normal, non-superhero self. And don't worry. If I ever do become a superhero, you'll definitely be the first to know. And if I forget to tell you, my cape and tights will probably give me away.

A Dog Blog

2008-06-11T16:36:00.000-04:00

It's official: I've become a weird dog person. And before you ask, no I don't dress my beloved pup in a tutu or carry him around in my purse, but that's only because my husband won't let me and my purse is too small. I know what you're thinking. I should get a bigger purse. And a new husband. But my purse is already huge as it is and I really like Kyle. Besides, if I were going to dress Gus up (not that I've thought about it), I see him as more of a vest guy. He is a hunting dog after all (and a male at that) so I'm pretty sure the tutu would lead to some pretty difficult questions. Nevertheless, I'm still a weird dog person. I used to make fun of people that obsessed over their pets, referring to them as their "babies" or, even worse, their "children." But I'm there. I mean, I don't call Gus my baby (not in front of people anyways), and I have yet to actually refer to him as my child (although, should I meet an untimely death, he is listed in my will as my sole heir), but I've realized that the feelings I have for him are rather strong. And I've come to terms with it. I love my dog. I think he's awesome. And if you have a problem with it, I don't think I like you that much. At the end of the day, I think my feelings are totally natural. I mean, have you seen Gus? There actually has never been a cuter dog in the history of the world. So it's only logical that I would think so highly of him. What do you people expect from me? So let us take a moment to ponder the greatness of Sir Augustus Liam Floydingshire III and marvel at his cuteness.

So what about you? Are you obsessed with your pets? Are you bothered by others that are? And answer this question honestly for me: have you ever seen a dog as cute as Gus? Seriously.

Welcome to my world

2008-06-11T15:01:00.000-04:00

Hey there, Bloggy McBloggerson! Thanks for joining me. I hope you enjoy my random musings on life.