Recommended reads

I love to read, and have been doing it less each year, until recently. I've found over the last few years that the amount of pleasure reading I'm doing see-saws with blogging. Blogging nonstop? Not reading. Blogging break? Nose firmly implanted in a book. In a perfect world I could do both, but I suspect that world does not involve earning a paycheck.

Here are some of my favorites from the last few months, and I think it's fair to say that these books are not for everyone. No chick lit (obvs). I like my books a little bitter, a little bruised, and a lot of beautiful. See below:

The Middlesteins, by Jami Attenberg

What a heartbreak, this book. But not in an emotionally wrought, painful-to-read kind of way. Heartbreak arrives here through wryness, through observations, through humanity. I keep wanting to describe The Middlesteins as "The Corrections with a heart," but it's more than that. Food addiction has never been so... tender.

Arcadia, by Lauren Groff Oh goodness, the beauty in this prose. We begin in an idyllic commune, watch the commune's growth and eventual (inevitable) destruction, then follow the trail of that destruction through the lives of its former members. This novel is its own world, one that for most of us is just a brief visit. It would be easy to tell this story in a more contrived, condescending way, but Groff treats her characters with reality and respect.


Telegraph Avenue, by Michael Chabon
If Arcadia is its own world, Telegraph Avenue is its own universe. Chabon takes us to a subset of Oakland obsessing over obscure vinyl, battling gentrification, stressing out midwives, breaking up and making up, dredging up old memories, and complicating the lives of adolescents. This is probably the hardest book for some people to enjoy in this grouping, but I personally couldn't get enough of this crew.

Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, by Hilary Mantel
I'm totally on board the Thomas Cromwell train. If you love historical fiction that's more textbook than bodice-ripper, these novels are for you. I'm fascinated by this period of time all over again, and terrified to read #3 for our hero's sake. Protect your neck, TC!

The Casual Vacancy, by J. K. Rowling
I think many Potter fans were disappointed by Rowling's first non-Potter novel, but this is exactly the sort of plot that I adore. Small-town politics, private lives open for public consumption, human weakness in all forms. Some of the best themes there are, running rampant here amidst City Council meetings, quaint storefronts, and dinner tables. How could I not love this one?

Just Kids, by Patti Smith
Let's end on a gorgeous note. Patti Smith's memoir of discovering herself in New York City with Robert Mapplethorpe is the literary equipvalent of a gorgeous, seeping scar, one we should be so thankful made it onto print and into our worlds. Their youth, their passion, their dedication, their love... It's the most tender thing I've ever read. What a marvel, this one.


There are many more I could have added, so jump onto Goodreads for a thorough round-up. Tell me... what should I read next?

Soothe me.

I'm under (several) doctors' orders to decrease my stress level. Nothing decreases stress like being told you must decrease your stress level, right?

This summer I've made a concerted effort to unclutter my calendar and eliminate travel, which I know has historically been one of my biggest stress-inducers, one that I bring completely onto myself. ("yes I would looooove to come and visit you! yes let's please go out twice next week! yes I will do that huge thing for you! yesyesyesyes!") In other words, I'm trying to get better about saying no.

So far this August, I've only spent one night outside of DC. That's improvement. I cancelled my annual trip to New Mexico, and my lovely girlfriends out there decided they'll come visit me over Labor Day instead. More improvement. I've never tried harder to do as little as possible. It doesn't feel like me, though, all this saying no. (I am my mother's daughter in this respect... hi Mom!)

There are overarching stress factors in my life, I know. There's time: not feeling like I have enough of it, even as I try desperately to empty my calendar. There's work: working too much for my own good, and dealing with work drama that requires more of my involvement than I'd like. There's also money: ummmm, yeah. But isn't it funny how the same things that can de-stress us can also backfire in our heads? For example:

• Animals. I love animals and instantly feel better when I'm around them. We've been trying to adopt a dog for ages (long story). But wait, when is the exact right time to adopt a dog and how should that be coordinated with life-planning and what about the costs of dog-walking and doggie daycare etc? I'd like to volunteer at the Washington Animal Rescue League, too, but wait, what about the time and can I really take on a new commitment?
• Reading. Books soothe me. (Read this and this, by the way, not this.) You know what I hate lately, though? Magazines. Unread magazines are piled up all over my home and do nothing but advertise to me the fact that I don't have enough leisure time to flip through their pages. Oh great, the third issue of Coastal Living to add to the pile of magazines still wrapped in plastic? Yet another Food & Wine? Awesome.
• Food. I love cooking. But not when I don't have time to care about it. See unread issues of Food & Wine, above.
• Friends and Family. My loved ones make me happy, but I'm less happy about my travel lockdown that hampers my ability to visit them. This is a biggie for me, a constant guilt cycle.
• Facials/Massages/etc. Traditionally my favorite indulgence has been a Triple Oxygen Facial at Bliss. T keeps trying to book me massages to relax. But no on both counts. I imagine myself lying there doing nothing but counting the dollars that could've been spent on, say, embryo freezing, and getting even more worked up than I was when I arrived. Sigh.
• Exercise. Like many of you, I love the high of exercise once I'm in the zone, and let's be honest - I could use the endorphins. Getting in the zone, though, is like pulling teeth. And only being allowed to engage in high-impact activities one week of the month? Not helpful. Not enough time to get in the zone.
• Water. Specifically, the ocean. My perennial happy place and the best way to clear my head. But there is no ocean in DC, and fertility clinic scheduling means I can't travel anyway. So.
• Writing. If only I had the time/energy to do it right.

Here's my question: how do you relax? Can we lose our ability to relax over time? Should I just be buying lottery tickets to try to eliminate my work/financial concerns and shut up already? Without said lottery winnings, do I even have a shot?

And let's agree that I'll never again write a post as whiny as this one, okay? Pinkie swear.

Friday I'm in Love

Oh, Olympic fatigue. For two weeks, you ruin us with your late nights and your heart-stopping moments and your tears. Yet I wouldn't have it any other way. (GABBBBBBBBBY!!!!!!!) So while I'm bidding adieu to swimming and waving hello to track this weekend, I hope to also recharge my energy tank and maintain a happy-sleepy vibe all weekend long. No big plans, no big projects, just my guy and my cats, on the couch and in our neighborhood. Sounds perfectly mellow right about now. On to my picks for the week!

Dieter Braun Olympic Print

So much yes on this beauty. And wouldn't you know it'd look perfect in my upstairs hallway?

Sombrilla Sun Shade

Having just returned from a beach weekend myself, I'm loving the idea of these Sombrilla Sun Shades (hat tip to Remodelista), especially for families with kiddos in tow. Beach umbrellas are so bulky, and beach tents are such a pain to set up on a windy beach (my sister and I embarked on that comedy of errors last year, only to have poor Liam scraped by a blowing pole). These lovely sun shades, though, are simple, gorgeous, portable, and practical... what more do you need?

Sacre Bleu: A Comedy d'Art

I recently enjoyed the hell out of this book, and if you like abusdist comedic premises, you might, too. Christopher Moore has a bit of Tom Robbins to him, for those of you looking for a comparable author. He brings art legends (Renoir, Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, Monet, so many more) to life and ties them together in the most improbable of ways. Part mystery, part thriller, part romance, part science fiction, part historical fiction... this book has everything except for a satisfying ending. (Although I think I might be alone on that note? Read it so we can discuss the ending. And cast the fantasy movie.) Ready yourself for awkward laughing-out-loud moments on trains and such. (Or from underneath your Sombrilla sun shade?) Note to DCers - this one's available in the library.

PSA: free books!

I have to tell you guys about this awesome place I found. It's bursting with books inside, and they are free. And you can take them whenever you want, and bring them back when you're finished reading! And then the books aren't cluttering up your already-exploding bookshelves or gathering dust on every surface in your house! And if you don't have time to peruse the shelves of this magical place, you can surf their catalog online and place holds on any book you like, and they'll e-mail you when it's ready to be picked up via a short stroll from your home! And did I mention all the books are free?

I know, right? I am blowing your minds right now. This magical place? It's called the library.

Revolutionary!

I can't even describe how much retro-awesomeness I feel in my heart when I step into our adorable neighborhood library. I mean seriously. First of all, it looks like this:

Adorable! And second, there are always these hilarious neighborhood characters hanging out on the steps or inside at the computers. And there's that smell of books that doesn't recall your favorite bookstore but instead recalls something utilitarian and civic, like high school research before the internet was invented (not that that makes my heart sing in the nerdiest of ways or anything). I love the signage inside advertising the book groups that have adopted this library, and the childrens' section full of DC-themed books, and the feel-good small-town-ness of it all. My library rocks.

When I got my DC library card last fall, it was the first one I'd had since I was a kid in my hometown. How is that possible? I'm not counting defacto cards in university settings, but the old school applying-for-a-library-card moment at the main desk. That moment rocks. It's not quite the cue-heartstrings moment that voting is, but it's up there. So why did I wait so long as an adult to join this free-book revolution?

Don't be as lame as I was. Go support your public library!


PS: Highly recommended recent reads: The Art of Fielding and The Leftovers

PPS: You can find me on Goodreads if you want to chat about books.

Family Fourth, beach-style

Despite US Air's best efforts, we made it to Holden Beach last week to meet my nephew Max and enjoy the fam for the 4th. I didn't even bring my work Blackberry. I did, however, bring my puffy, bruised, needle-poked body - the ideal time to wear swimwear, really. But enough of that! A great book, an urgent desire to float in the pool and bop around in waves, and my favorite people all in one place. On to the photos!

Such a sweet guy, this new nephew of mine!

Fourth of July festivities (my family still has approximately 10,000 pieces of our wedding props on hand)

My dad representing the 'hood

My sister-in-law, aka the best-looking "just gave birth nine days ago" woman of all time

HEART EXPLOSIONS.

Pretty.

Game of Thrones set made of sand?

My sis found this enormous dead beetle on the beach, which my nephew Liam named "Shakin' Bacon 48,000," or just "Bacon," if you prefer. He was gorgeous, really. My sis is framing him.

And one more time for those heartstrings.

We had a family portrait session while we were there with the fabulous (and amazingly sweet) Megan of Genie Leigh Photography (see her fab work from my brother's wedding here). Fingers crossed we get some good ones... we can be a motley crew sometimes, after all. And also, there was a diarrhea explosion involved. Gotta love it!

Ramen obsession

My current excuse regarding near-constant cravings for Toki Underground is that ramen is good for my cold. But really, I don't need to justify my obsession with this stuff.

The kimchi hakata is pretty much all I want to eat these days. Look at that stuff... can you blame me?

While we're on the subject of ramen, if you didn't get a chance to read the debut issue of Lucky Peach when it launched this summer, try to find yourself a copy. The issue is entirely focused on ramen, and is as hunger-inducing as it is giggle-inducing. Good writing through and through, especially if you find boys' clubs more charming than obnoxious. (Personally, I waver... but this boys' club pulls it off.)

Mmmmm... ramen.

"Why are you so far away?" (she said)

I'm reading South of Broad right now, and loving it despite its initial chapters of overwrought, floral prose. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get past the insufferably long, overwritten sentences at the beginning of this book, although they did serve as excellent fodder to entertain T with dramatic readings. (Note to all writers: if a reader has to stop and gasp for air while trying to read one of your sentences aloud, it's probably too long.) Fortunately, Pat Conroy settled down the rhetoric once he introduced additional characters and stopped simply expounding All Things Charleston, and now I'm hooked.

I was thinking last night about the tight group of friends who comprise the heart of the novel, and how so many of my favorite books, movies, and even television shows involve a central group of friends who grew up together over the years. I'm absolutely guilty of romanticizing that sort of camaraderie. We romanticize what we don't have, after all, and my life couldn't be more different than the hometown experience. I'm lucky enough to have friends all over the place, from all sorts of chapters in my life, and many of these friends are as different as could be. I love that about them. If I hadn't gone north for college, I would never have met my fantastic Boston Girls. If I hadn't gone west for graduate school, I would never have met my amazing ABQ crew (or my husband, for that matter). If I hadn't followed T out to Dallas, I would never have met the Champagne Thursday girls. And now that we're in DC, we love the new friends we've made and the new life we're creating. We are constantly evolving.

Despite the knowledge that I wouldn't trade any of what I have for staying in the same town with the same people forever, I still adore wondering what that would feel like. I'll never have kids who'll go to high school with the kids of my high school crew. Most of my high school crew left town like I did anyway. I won't see my college friends at weekend football games or alumni events. Most of us live too far away, and besides, we don't even have a football team anymore. I'm not able to walk over to my graduate school pals' house anymore for breakfast, hashing out the previous night and planning how we'll take over the world tomorrow (oh, how I could use those breakfasts these days!). Heck, my pals don't even live together any more... marriage and babies and all. Time marches on and moves us farther apart geographically. We all visit and stay in touch regularly, but still.

I understand the logic of distance, but my heart can't help but pine for one endless "Big Chill"-style reunion, minus the suicide (although the drama of one person's husband impregnating someone else in the group with his wife's permission would be... exciting?). And while my choices mean I do and always will fly around a lot to see my favorite people and their offspring, how much would I love for them to all be here with me, living in my neighborhood?

Here's a song for today from my friend Ann, who is part of my "Nightswimming" memory, and in comments notes that she feels the same way I do about that song and about that long-ago weekend. Ann left the Triangle like I did and now calls Nashville home. She sent me this clip over the weekend, which immediately  prompted me to tell T to develop some Nashville clients so it'd be easier to get out there regularly. That's exactly how my world keeps getting bigger, by the way. Is it crazy that I sometimes wish it was small?

Thanks, Ann, for knowing this song would make me as happy today as it would have in 1996, sitting in your living room drinking boxed wine. I raise a glass of Franzia White Zin in your honor, and send you a long-lost hug across the airwaves.

Friday I'm in Love

Oh weekend, you tricky mistress, you. I've managed to schedule a Saturday so full of activities that I really only have a one-day weekend ahead of me. That, plus the chance of SNOW on Sunday (#$%&E^@^!!!), means I'm already looking forward to next weekend. At any rate, here are three finds that tickled my fancy this week. Enjoy, and try to have a more restful weekend than I will!

Guys and Doll

 People are fascinating and weird and wonderful, you know? I read this piece about "The Digbys" and couldn't quite believe it. A couple "adopted" a doll twenty years and have been raising them as their "son" ever since... and oh, the places he's gone and the outfits he's worn! Please tell me there's film footage that someone's been recording all these years... this stuff is begging for a documentary.

Coralie Bickford-Smith

It's pretty easy for me to get swept away by great book cover design, and no one is doing that better these days than Coralie Bickford-Smith. Her designs for the Penguin clothbound classics series are renowned... and happen to be utter perfection in hardcover form. Her latest project takes us into the kitchen with Penguin's 'Great Food' series, which presents a dilemma... isn't it blasphemy to rip the covers off books, even if you're framing them in the kitchen as a large art piece?

"You Should Date an Illiterate Girl"

Via Her Name Was Lola, full text here.

Brain candy

Some of the diversions that have recently made my days:

Arcade Fire's The Suburbs

So much has been written about this album that adding my own two cents feels extraneous. Yet since its release, it's all I've listened to, all I've wanted to hear. While I marvel at the construction and layering of the songs, it's the content that seals the deal for me. Whether I approach it from an academic perspective (valiant fighter of sprawl and protector of community identity that I like to think I am) or from a personal one (child of the suburbs who grew up to get hives from strip malls and low-density subdivisions), this is a complete and utter winner for me, an instant classic. These are songs I'll be listening to for years to come. (And you've seen the brilliant interactive video for 'The Wilderness Downtown' by now, yes?)

The Town

'The Town' was a much-welcomed bridge into Serious Movie Season for me, living somewhere in between plodding drama and action flick. As a vehicle of things to come, I'm happy to have this movie chauffeur me into a more highbrow cinematic season. I'm also happy that it promises much more from Ben Affleck, whose talent as a director and a writer is no longer something to wonder about, but something to get excited about. And c'mon, this is Boston. One of my places. It's also a fantastic cast doing good things. And it's a climactic scene in that "cathedral of Boston" I know and love, Fenway Park. It's a damn good flick that came to us at just the right time.

Special Topics in Calamity Physics

Sometimes I feel like books wait for you until just the right moment. This one had been on my to-read list for a year before I found it in a $5 clearance bin, at which point I forgot about it for two more years. But last week, there it was in wait, with the kind of protagonist I adore (wunderkind with a head for academia and a heart full of growing pains), intellectual discourse that's only funny if you get it (and then it's hilarious), a cast of well-developed characters, a crash-course through revolutionary action and a study in dissent, and a big, fat, stay-up-all-night mystery. Go read it.

City Island

 Kate told me ages ago I'd enjoy this flick, and sure enough, the girl knows my taste. Add this movie to your Netflix queue now. Just do it. It's hilarious and awkward and poignant and all those things that can happen when the loudest scenes are family fights at the dinner table. Find out what "botero" is. See Andy Garcia in his first role I've EVER enjoyed. Marvel at the final scene on the street, which is an absolutely brilliant five minutes of comedy.

What's on your to-hear, to-read, to-see list these days?

Random.

Here we go, folks. There is no rhyme or reason right now - just a lot of meandering:

Flowers and Books
I've been obsessing over this big arrangement of bright lilies all week, and this morning when I was watering, I spotted a very similar arrangement over in our neighbor's living room (no I wasn't spying - the rather awkward layout of our building means that their living room looks directly onto our patio, and vice versa). 3/$12 at Whole Foods this week: get 'em while they're hot!

Remember a week ago today, when I was beating myself up for being a bad reader? True to form, I've read three books since that post. The first .... meh. But the second! Has anyone else out there read the Josephine Bonaparte series by Sandra Gulland? I borrowed the first book last weekend in Connecticut on the trail of my mother-in-law, who borrowed it from my sister-in-law, both of whom raved about it. Sure enough, I found myself furtively reading it all weekend and finishing it on the train, and am now absolutely antsy for M to bring me #2. Composed entirely of diary entries and letters, this work of "historical fiction" is insanely readable, and makes me hungry to fact-check everything when I'm done with the whole series.

The second book pictured here was borrowed from my friend Allie, who proudly has her grandmother's copy of the novel. Sure enough, there's her signature right inside the cover of "A Woman of Independent Means," the "splendid national bestseller" published in 1978. This novel was immensely enjoyable, particularly on the heels of Josephine B., as it's comprised entirely of letters and telegrams. (What I've learned the last week is that any novel composed in short letter form is crack to my brain that I can't put down until three in the morning.) The heroine Bess Steed is a turn-of-the-century woman who is in turns bossy, full of presumption, and privileged. Yet she is also remarkably self-sufficient, adventurous, headstrong, and surprising. I would have liked to be her friend. Bonus points for being set largely in Dallas - I always love seeing familiar street names and the like. I also loved coming across the many gems from Bess included in her letters to friends and family. Had this been my copy of the book, I would have underlined this sentence from her 1932 letter to her daughter: "The best dowry a woman can bring to a marriage is a set of memories she acquired alone." Now... to Netflix the 1995 television miniseries starring Sally Field!

Paper Love
Check out my kick-ass blog calling cards designed by pixelimpress. I highly recommend her if you're in the market for fun, reasonably priced paper goodness.

I have a couple of blogging-oriented events coming up, and it occurred to me that calling cards would be helpful. I like these so much I'm getting standard calling cards made, too - phone number and real e-mail address and the like. You know, for the many and varied networking events I attend outside of working from home all day. Ummm...

Girlfight
I'm in a fight with one of our cats right now. Switters is our needy and emotional gentlecat of leisure, while Fanny is our hell-kitten in need of Ritalin who makes "A Woman of Independent Needs" look like a charity case. The cat is obsessed with being outside, obsessed with jumping onto precarious landings, and obsessed with doing things that increase the likelihood of her scrawny, fluffy self flying over the rail and splattering onto 14th St. All week when I've been watering, I've had to repeatedly yell at her to get off the places she knows she's not allowed to be outside. Here's the thing: do I really want to be the crazy cat lady watering her plants at 7:30 in the morning, pre-coffee, bleary-eyed, and wearing some sort of outfit I threw together in the dark, loudly yelling "FANNY!" I think not.

So dammit, why does she have to be so cute when takes a nap on a fresh pile of laundry? I mean, her tiny tongue sticking out? Not fair, Fanny. Not fair at all.

Local Politics
I'm seriously stressed out about who to vote for in the DC mayoral election. That is all.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig...
So I'm heading back to NC this evening for a long weekend of Preggo Police activity. My sister is due October 19, but her little one has decided that we're way too cool for him to wait another seven weeks to meet (or is it just his 14-month-old big brother he wants to hang out with? no, probably us.). I mean, I can't really blame him, except that it's really so much better for him if he takes the next seven weeks to chill out and get strong, ya know? So with my sister about a second away from doctor-ordered bedrest and my parents leaving for vacation Saturday, it's up to a rag-tag bunch of volunteers like me to make sure that A) Little Liam has someone to run after him, B) Stubborn Lisa stays in timeout when we're forcing her to get off her feet, and C) The doc has no chance to tell her game over, it's bedrest time. T's joining me this weekend and I'm looking forward to a lot of chilling out and laughing, while one person in the group just happens to be seated the whole time. Depending on Hurricane Earl, we might have a houseful of OBXers with us, too (which I selfishly wouldn't mind one bit).

Happy holiday weekend, folks. So excited for some crispness in the air. I mean really, any time now.

Women on the page

I've been a terrible reader the past several months. I have several nonfiction books beside the bed, all half-plowed through. I have a stack of untouched magazines that I've carried with me on no less than three separate weekend getaways in hopes of reading, to no avail. I just recycled a huge pile of newspapers that went unread last week. Sure, last week was nuts, but still - enough is enough. The harsh truth of it is, as busy or as scatter-brained as I may be from time to time, nothing is as bad for my reading habits as the Internet. I have the power and ability to be a better reader than I've been the last six months, I fully acknowledge that. I am my own worst reading enemy, and I vow here and now to turn over a new leaf in September.

On that note, here are two books I did manage to finish recently. They're both breezy and engaging, and they both recount the lives of two fantastic women.

First up, the famously reclusive Harper Lee, in Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee by Charles Shields.

I received this book as a gift years ago, and forgot it was on the shelf until I read about a remarkable letter that Ms. Lee wrote to author Alice Randall regarding the legal dispute surrounding Randall's The Wind Done Gone, as featured in Garden & Gun.

The book is not so much a revelation of Ms. Lee as it is an overview of her life thus far, much of which I didn't know. I read this book picturing Catherine Keener in her Truman performance, wry and warm and handsome. Not a rigorous biography by any means, Shields gives us a gentle look into the places she lived and the people she knew - many of whom were told by Ms. Lee herself not to cooperate. I learned the frame of her life, got to know the stage, but I'm still wondering much about the woman herself. It seems incomprehensible at times to connect the social awkwardness and often rude sensibilities of the younger Lee with the woman who went on to charm a small Kansas town and publish a masterpiece, then again to withdraw and give up on ever writing again. Harper Lee is a mystery. This book, while delightfully written, only adds to that mystery. That said, spending time with Ms. Lee's sense of humor, Southern sensibilities, and earnest justice was time well spent.

Next up, the infamous "Insatiable Critic" herself, Gael Greene. I've already waxed poetic about Gael's status as one of my favorite Tweeters, so I knew I'd enjoy this book, which my pal H kindly loaned me. In a way, one could consider Gael's "more is more" approach the antithesis of Harper Lee's "less is more" life lesson. What can I say... I tend to favor more myself. Here's what I wrote about Insatiable on Goodreads* last night, where I couldn't help but make another comparison:

I'm sure it's easy to dislike Gael Greene. Too visceral, too confessional, too... much. Me, though? I can't help but like her. I like her breeze and her boldness and, well, her balls. She resides on the opposite side of my heart from Ruth Reichl. She's less a cook and more a show-woman than Ruth. She's less about where the rest of us eat, and more about where we should eat. Ruth is my everywoman, but I have some Gael in there, too ... no question about it. We shouldn't have to choose between Rut ...more I'm sure it's easy to dislike Gael Greene. Too visceral, too confessional, too... much. Me, though? I can't help but like her. I like her breeze and her boldness and, well, her balls. She resides on the opposite side of my heart from Ruth Reichl. She's less a cook and more a show-woman than Ruth. She's less about where the rest of us eat, and more about where we should eat. Ruth is my everywoman, but I have some Gael in there, too ... no question about it. We shouldn't have to choose between Ruth or Gael. That we can have both women on our bookshelves, our televisions, and our twitter feeds is in itself a modern miracle. "Insatiable" is too long a book, and the quick-hit reports of restaurant happenings over a decade are unnecessary - there are other and better books for that. This book is at its best when Gael tells her story the way that only she can, with that unmistakable voice, that gorgeous sentence structure, and that openness that is shockingly rare these days, and incredibly alluring to follow. She is a class act, and to this woman whose most quoted line is "the two greatest discoveries of the 20th century were the Cuisinart and the clitoris" ... well, I will forever salute that.

I'm stocking my Goodreads "To Read" folder with goodies this afternoon. Tell me, what else should I add?

*By the way, are you on Goodreads? Find me!

I could get used to this

It's so much fun avoiding reality. Two days ago, I spent my day doing this:

Yesterday, my "lunch break" was spent at the pool reading about the endlessly fascinating Harper Lee.

Last night, another Stage Cuz evening (new videos here, including full versions of Z's songs!).

And then late last night, Z and her pal stole my heart forever by choreographing The Double Rainbow Song. I mean really, does it get any better than this? I think my sides still kinda hurt from laughing so hard. If your afternoon calls for something goofy and awesome to cheer you up, look no further.

Today's "lunch break" consisted of shopping in Duck with my cousins and then taking them to lunch. How many times have I been in those same stores since I was their age, I wondered? It made me smile pretty big. Of course, back in the day I was the one buying super-short summer dresses, not the one putting them back on the rack wishing they were a tad longer. 

My cousin S2, though, to me: "Skirts and dresses don't have to go down to your knees, you know." Now that's a girl after T's own heart right there. And yes, I do know that, S!

I love these girls. Can I just stay here and live this life concurrently with my own back in DC?

Good places for us all

My favorite anything - book, movie, memory, story told over drinks - revolves around the search for oneself through a place-based journey. Give me a vista of open road on the screen, and you have me. Begin your narrative with a quest for home, in all its definitions, and I am yours. I believe in the power of places, the thread of history that channels us into what's next, and the kind of roots that grow because of our choices rather than where we were born. Some of this is why I stumbled into the field of planning the way that I did. I was writing about the power of place and feeling increasingly powerless in how such places are shaped. The fact that I now help shape places and miss simply writing about them is something you can take or leave in this discussion.

One of my favorite books about the quest for oneself on the open road is Blue Highways, one man's rambling journey over state highways that begins as a search for answers on the day he loses his job and is left by his wife. Traveling these small roads, our hero sees America on the cusp of change, in the moment before far too many of the diners, Main Streets, fishing docks, and farms he visits are ravaged by Wal-Marts and condominiums. The trajectory of one man's life turning itself over along with the American landscape is poignant, achingly funny, and true.

The Cornbread Nation series takes up my love for place-based narrative, and does so through the stomach. We accept rival brothers and their competing barbecue sauce brands as a metaphor for modern race relations in the South. We marvel at poetry that cuts to the heart of ancestral traditions through smoke and fire. We see direct linkages to Africa through the humblest and proudest pots of greens. In these essays, food is elevated to the common language and living history that it should always be.

I'm thinking about Blue Highways and Cornbread Nation today because two friends are going through their own placed-based journeys, and they're doing so in ways that allow us to tag along.

First, my friend Jessie has written a beautiful post about leaving New Mexico in two months and moving back to Asheville, NC, after a decade away from the mountains and hills and streams of her youth. As you know, I left New Mexico, too. As you know, I still carry it around with me everywhere, and always will. Knowing Jessie, I know how the eastern mountains have called her home, even as she's made an indelible mark on the high desert mountains of the West. I know what a big move this is for her, and I'm as thrilled for her as I am full of support for what will be a truly bittersweet departure. Is there anything tougher than leaving a place you love, even if it's to go to a place your heart knows you need to be? I'm not sure, but I'm so happy for her that she's following her heart across I-40.

With Jessie in Albuquerque, 2006

The second journey that's speaking to me these days comes from T's stepbrother Joe, whom you've met in my tales of Prague. (I wasn't lying when I told you I'd be recounting our trip sporadically, as you've noticed... the rest - the beer! - will come in time. Maybe soon-ish, now that I think about it.) Upon his stateside return after the family wedding, Joe took off on a meandering American tour to figure out, among other trivial matters, what he wants to do next with his life, and where he wants to do it. This sort of journey naturally puts everything he's doing right now at the top of my personal Stepbrother Gold highlight reel, it's so my kinda thing. Joe's been writing letters from his travels, and I think you should all read them. They're funny and perceptive and smart and they make me hungry. Go savor Barbecued Love Letters... you won't be sorry.

Under Prague's Spell with T and J, May 2010

Speaking of places and occasions (in the roundabout way I'm feeling this morning), this blog turns a year old next week. Last July, I started this little journal to have a place of my own on the Web, one where I could be silly, serious, saccharine, and sarcastic in turn. It's been good for me, and a week from today, I'm hosting a little birthday giveaway to mark the occasion. Stay tuned for the chance to win a gift that's pretty and place-based in turn. (Hint: you might want to start thinking about your favorite places if you want a chance at winning.)

Off I go... back to work shaping places. Or wishing I was just writing them, as it were.

Friday I'm in Love

So our $10 Christmas is a fine idea and all, but after shipping? $60. And that's using $15 of coupons, too. Oh well. But in all seriousness, I'm thrilled about how the gifts have turned out and will reveal all after the holidays. I was thinking after handing over my debit card with a sigh, though, that one day I would so love to be able to pack the car full of prettily packaged gifts and simply drive over to Mimi and Jambo's for Christmas. (Mimi and Jambo are the names the first grandchild bestowed on my parents, so they now wear them proudly.) I say this with a huge amount of trepidation and fear of jinxing, but I can't contain it: we got a glimmer of hope yesterday that such a feat might one day be possible! Like, Christmas 2010 possible. A girl can dream, can't she?

In honor of Project: Next Big Step shaping up nicely, I offer a Friday I'm in Love bonanza, a slew of items that amused me this week while waiting for the H-word to get back into town. We're doing an ittybitty Christmas for each other this year, by the way, in honor of what we most want wrapped under the proverbial tree: a big, shiny job. So there's lots of time to play around on the Web and hand-craft "$10" gifts.

Ahhh... one week 'til Christmas Day! Mimi and Jambo and the Nug and Nugget and oh yeah, my crazy-awesome sibs and their SOs, too. It's going to be a good one, folks... Now it's your turn to smile at these gems:

The Best Worst Sandra Lee Recipe Reviews

As you can see from my tweet last night, I had quite a bit of fun with "The Best Worst Sandra Lee Recipe Reviews." Seriously, you must check it out. It contains reviews such as "It was like there was a party in my mouth and everyone was throwing up" and "I must admit I would never have thought of serving fish with allspice and taco seasoning and salsa and cole slaw and peaches. But there’s a good reason for that: this is disgusting." So good! I love the Food Network Humor blog, by the way. If you're a food-tv cynic like me, go check them out. And don't even get me started on Sandra Lee, whom the always-crushworthy Anthony Bourdain terms the "frightening Hell Spawn of Kathie Lee and Betty Crocker." The woman even ruined Andrew Cuomo for me.

Smell of Books spray

So as you either already know or likely suspect, I am hopelessly old-school when it comes to paper. I read a paper newspaper every day. I love stationery and use snail mail. But most of all, I love books. I fear the day someone tries to gift me with a Kindle and my head explodes. At any rate, for you new-fangled folks who embrace technology but miss that smell of paper, even if your cold heartless hands prefer to hold electronics, this spray is for you! From Incredible Things.

City Sage Christmas Card

THIS is how you send out a photo card pre-adorable kids, folks. Blogger crush Anne Sage and her husband's fantastic tacky sweater/cat people parody is etched into my Not Taking Yourself Too Seriously Hall of Fame. Amazing!

Brussels Sprouts Christmas Tree

My favorite vegetable, all decorated for the holidays. Genius!

Kathleen Turner as Molly Ivins

One of my all-time favorite women, the late, great Molly Ivins, is being brought back to us in the form of Kathleen Turner, who's channeling Ivins in a one-woman show in Philadelphia this spring. My love for Molly runs deep and blue, and I'd see this show in a heartbeat. Philadelphia is a town that makes our household smile: T was born there and I spent a summer there as a teenager studying at Penn, meeting lifelong friends and getting into all sorts of trouble. I think a trip is in order in a few months, when all these Next Big Thing details are ironed out. Sending you love, Molly, as always.


One week 'till lounging in pajamas with the fam all day, woo hoo!

Friday I'm in Love

Live from Boston, my three picks for the week:

The Known World

I'm obsessed with this book. You know that feeling you get sometimes when you're so immersed in a novel that during the day, you jealously think of it sitting at home on your bedside table, and fantasize about leaving everything behind and running back home to it? (Wait, am I talking about a book?) Anyway, that's the feeling this book is giving me. If you're looking for an amazing story, give The Known World by Edward P. Jones a try.

Aphro Chic Business Card by Studio on Fire

Behold, some of the coolest business cards I've ever seen, from my perennial paper crush Studio on Fire. I've been thinking that if I went back to school or did freelance work, that'd be an excellent excuse to have some to-die-for letterpress calling cards made. Can you imagine carrying these beauties around every day? Can you imagine parting with them, though, as you give them away? Speaking of excuses... talk about a reason to love an afro. I mean seriously, isn't the logo just to die for? The silhouette? The typefaces? And then the print on the back? The edges in yellow? There's corresponding stationery, too, as if this wasn't enough. So given how amazing this design is, I had to go and check out the Aphro Chic Shop for myself. Is it possible that this woman is even cuter in person, jumping on a bed with her personalized shirt and handmade pillows, than in her glorious letterpressed silhouette? It is. Not Fair.


Gael Greene's Tweets

Many of you probably first got to know Gael Greene as "crazy hat judge" on Top Chef: Masters, but she's actually something of a legend, starting when she became the New York Magazine restaurant critic in 1968 and wore outrageous hats as disguises. Here's how David Kamp describes her in The United States of Arugula (a fantastic read, by the way): "Having gotten her start writing sex-and-the-single-gal pieces for Cosmopolitan and Ladies' Home Journal, Greene ... was inspired by the conversational style of Tom Wolfe and invented her own choppy, unhinged, status-obsessed style. Flaunting a saucy "food = sex" ethos , Greene ladeled on the suggestiveness, christening herself 'The Insatiable Gourmet' and turning even a trip to the lavish but unglamourous Jewish grocery Zabar's into an orgiastic reverie." There's much more, but you should really go read that book (and go read Greene's book too, by the way, where she describes a steamy night with Elvis - seriously!). At any rate, Gael Greene has a Twitter account, and she is endlessly amusing to me. See the above tweet, and also this little nugget to see why.