The Books! Oh, The Books! May 17, 2008

My husband has long since decided that my most annoying habit as a person-to-live-with is my CHARMING habit of leaving books lying around the house. All careless and willy-nilly. Because usually? I’m reading three or four at once. I LOVE to read. It is like breathing; natural and automatic, and I start to get dizzy and turn funny colors if I’m not doing it constantly.

While wandering around the Internet today (because that was so much more productive than cleaning my house or, I don’t know, working on the Huge Looming Reports that I need to be writing. But shut up, because I was all tired out from that late movie.) I found the Goodreads website. And so I signed up for it, because it was pretty and shiny and full of books! There is this lurvley function that lets you amass a list of the books you have read, are reading, and will read, forever and ever, amen.

I? Have read a lot of books in my lifetime. I had to make some soup to eat while working on the Have Read list, just to keep my strength up. And I barely got a tenth of the books I have read on there yet. I have a serious problem.

What was strange, though, was looking at the list after I got tired of working on it. Aside from the fact that I have read every single  Nora Roberts book ever written, my Have Read list looks snobby and pretentious. Like I made it up so I could feel smart. But I really did read all the classics! I just didn’t read them recently. 

Until I went to college, I was homeschooled. Shut up. But my mamma, she wasn’t so much for the “put on your pinafore and I’ll teach you to knit” homeschooling, or even the “no fun until you finish cloning that fruitfly and studying for the spelling bee” homeschooling. Her personal philosophy was to buy every ‘classic’ book in the tri-state area (preferably those written before 1970), put them in massive, room-dominating bookshelves, and leave me to my own devices. So I read them, and didn’t think twice about it. With a few memorable exceptions (reading Animal Farm when you are nine? Because you think it will be like Charlotte’s Web? Not an experience I would recommend.) I think her system worked. Although, after discovering chick lit when I was in college, I think I got a little stupider. Uh-huh, see? Stupider. Because I don’t think I really learned to read if not for pleasure. No one was forcing me to read all those books, they were just there and so was I. In college I barely opened my textbooks after my first semester. I hadn’t had much experience with textbooks, and when I found that they do not sweep you away from your troubles in a narrative tide, I did not really care about them so much. I have never learned to be a disciplined reader, just a serendipitous one, reading what I am drawn to, when and if I am drawn to it.

The Library Dragon says: “Read something other than Nora Roberts, for the love of Pete!”

Obviously, This Is About Prince Caspian May 16, 2008

I have firmly sealed my fate as a big nerdy nerd by going to a midnight showing of Prince Caspain last night. This morning. Whatever. And I still had the gall to mock the nerds who chanted “Nar-ni-uh. Nar-ni-uh.” As the previews ended and the movie started. Because I, at least, am a quiet nerd.

I spent all day yesterday feeling sad that I wouldn’t be going to see this movie at midnight, and poor me, have never been to see a movie at midnight before it was really out. Because Joey had a test at eight o’clock in the morning, and he was all “My perfect grades! How will I get another 103 % if you drag me out at all hours of the night, you crazy wench??”

But Then! I mentioned my sad, resigned plight to a friend at work, and SHE wanted to go see the movie at midnight! So we went together! After I kindly cooked her dinner, in which the main dish was the ONLY FOOD she is allergic to, in the whole world. Oops! And also, after we spent quite a while trying to figure out how to get her keys out of her locked Jeep. We even Googled “how to break into a Jeep”, but Google was all, “Here are fifty bazillion articles on how to keep your Jeep safe from brigands and thieves.” But we got it all sorted out in the end.

And the movie? Was awesome. I was a little concerned, since I had read an article about how they couldn’t “stick to” the book as strictly as they did in Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe. Because I have been reading these books since I learned how to read, and part of the fun of watching TLWW was being able to go, “Oooh, the dead fly on the window of the room that has the wardrobe in it, the first time she sees it! Just like he wrote!” Because again, Nerd.

But I can see that the movie didn’t have as much depth as it could have, because it was following so closely to the book. And Caspian is a much, much better movie because it isn’t word for word. It still tells the story, and the spiritual symbolism is even clearer, and the characters are well-developed. Sooooo, I loved it, and will be going to see it AGAIN. TODAY. Because the nerdyness is OVERPOWERING! Also, because I may have missed some of the finer points last night, what with being freezing cold, exhausted, and having the pee like a racehorse.

PS, A Spoiler.

The Telmarines being so Spaniard/Conquistador-y = perfection.

Caspian and Susan trying to flirt with each other = cheesy lameness.

Leaps of Faith May 15, 2008

To start things off on a light note:

Lucy and her Fabulous Employer: *having a tolerably serious conversation*

Joey: *pops his head in* “Honey? Can I use you?”

Lucy (who has no shame): *winks at Employer* “So many different jokes, so little time.”

It’s a good thing my Fabulous Employer thinks I’m funny!

Also! I got my Brie cheese tonight! Am now in an unpasturized coma of bliss!

I didn’t have to cook tonight, which was perfect, because I had a rough rough day. I realized that this makes THREE weeks in a row where Joey has surprised me with dinner out. Maybe I should stop being surprised? Wednesdays really suck, for some unknown reason. But it does not suck at all to have a husband who recognizes when I have had a rough day, and insists on giving me a little break.

We were joking at said dinner tonight, about how I was a “mail-order bride” (a story for another day) and how in a way, moving here and getting married was a real leap of faith for me. I listened to some undeniable conviction deep inside, and made a decision that didn’t make a lot of conventional sense. And boy, are we glad I did! I mentioned, later in the conversation, that our wanting to try and have a baby is a similar leap of faith. Logically, there are plenty of reasons for us to NOT try to get pregnant in the near future. Plenty! But we both have the same conviction that this is what we want, this is the right decision. And I have a feeling that when the time comes to look back on it, we will be glad we did!

Later, I was reading Maybe Baby some more, and came across this: “Like marriage, only more so, having children is an irrational act, a total leap of faith for all who attempt it.”

Clearly I am incapable of having an original thought. Hmph. Also, clearly I was making clever, literature-worthy conversation over dinner today. So, woot!

She Writes About Cool Things, Like…Cheese May 14, 2008

I? Am a diva-brat. And my husband? Is stuck being married to a diva-brat FOR ALL OF ETERNITY. I tried to warn him about what he was getting into, but all of my “I’m so high-strung.” warnings went unheeded. Like ‘high-strung’ doesn’t equal ‘if we are having a fight late at night, and I flounce dramatically out of the bedroom, I will also turn on every light in the house just because it irritates you, and will keep you from going to sleep. And if you turn the lights off? I will get up and do the whole thing a second time, all mature-like.’ or something.  Hypothetically. If you deserved it, by being a big meanie-head and causing me to flounce dramatically in the first place.

Ahem.

That was a while ago, though! I really have  grown up a little since then! My diva-brat story for TODAY is not nearly as, um, adorable? Lets go ahead and call me acting like a five year old adorable.

After work, I cooked us dinner tonight! I try to do that, since we spend all of our paychecks at Taco Bell. Or did, before the Nachos BelGrande That Smelled Like Fish Incident. And this makes us poor. And chunky. So I cook dinner; which, to date, only smells like fish when it IS fish, which I consider to be a good thing. Anyway. I made dinner, and it was just shrimp primavera out of a bag from my freezer a la Bertolli. And some cheesy garlic bread, because we? Like the cheese. I may have added some to the pasta, too, for good measure.

And then, no lie, I even did the dishes afterwards.

And then took a bath, and lolled about our apartment, and waited and waited and waitedfor Joey to get off the computer so I could have a turn. The downside of this squeaky-clean beautiful office of ours is that now we BOTH want to spend time in it. We may have been reduced to bickering jokingly about whose ‘turn’ it was to use the Internet. What is a more valuable way to waste time? Reading eleventy-gazillion blogs, or making eleventy-gazillion fantasy baseball trades? The world may never know.

So I, like the patient, sweet, self-sacrificing little wife I am, let my husband click-click away for several hours, and I laid on the futon and read more of Maybe Baby, just basking in his nearness.

And employing all of my feminine wiles to entice him to go and fetch me some Brie Cheese. Even though he had already left the house once to get us drinks from the gas station, and since he didn’t know which flavor of Fuze tea to get me, he brought home threedifferent flavors. Which was great! But now I reallyreallyreally wanted some Brie! I love it! I wasn’t full from that pasta primavera! I needed something NOW! He almost caved at my high-pitched squeaky noises, which he cannot generally resist, but then toughened up and called my “Its okay, don’t go.” bluff. He is turning into a wily old married man!

So I ate carrot sticks and Ranch instead, and pretended it was because I am so health conscious and always try to make good decisions. Except I forgot to buy the low-fat Ranch, so that was probably the Ranch dressing equivalent to drinking whole milk.

And this very fascinating and dairy-related post must now come to an end, because FOR THE THIRD TIME I am getting kicked off the computer. So someone can check to see if his trade proposals have been accepted. But I won’t whine too much, since I have already met my diva-brat quota for the day.

Don’t Hate Me Because I Get Three -Day Weekends May 11, 2008

My weekend has been dominated by some serious nesting. Not that kind of nesting, just semi-new apartment nesting.

Joey and I shoveled out the neglected ‘office’ room this weekend. We were so happy to get this pretty apartment. With an extra bedroom! We could have a nice little office! Only for the past three or so months, we have just had a nice little Room Full Of Random Crap. In a brilliant team effort, we spent three-ish days transforming this:

To this:

Yeah. The entire room underwent a similar transformation, but that would be entirely too many disgusting before and after pictures for me.

My fantabulous husband also made the valuable discovery that we could trade our $12 IKEA desk chair (which is tiny and uncomfortable for me to sit on, so I can’t imagine how he feels about it) for our $30 IKEA armchair (which is infinitly more comfy) as a place to sit at the massive twin-sized bed of a desk. This may possibly change our lives! We spent several hours sitting there (his lap, it is comfortable) downloading music from the newly-discovered FrostWire.

FrostWire: Is It Legal? Will It Give Our Pretty Computer Viruses? Oooh, Search For That One Song I Like!

I let Joey play with all that stuff yesterday, but I got up earlier than him this morning, and dowloaded about seventy-gazillion songs, most of which he will probably despise. To save him pain, I put them all in a playlist marked “mellow girl music” and will try to only listen to it when he’s not around. That is such a lie! If I have to listen to him reliving Jr. High via the musical stylings of T-Bone, then he can suffer some Alanis Morissette.  And B*Witched! Remember B*Witched? Am rocking out to “Mr. Postman” right this minute! Still remember all the words!

In other news, I bought three baby-related books this weekend, because I like to be informed. Very, very informed. Reviews of these books? Okay!

The Girlfriend’s Guide To Pregnancy: This was the book I made the Half Priced Books run for, because I read on a blog I like that it was good. Much better than What To Expect. But I really didn’t like it at all! I mean, I liked the secret-girls-club vibe, yes. But I didn’t like the blatant making fun of *natural childbirth people*. Mostly because it made me wonder if I am silly to have that as a goal, and if so, should I stop researching birthing centers where epidurals aren’t even offered? The self doubt! But then, I kept reading snippets and asides that struck me as kind of anti-husband. Like how husbands aren’t going to be interested in picking out baby names and going to appointments with you and such. Which, maybe I have unrealistic newylwed expectations, but my man is already engaging in baby name conversations. And lists. And he has been known to talk to my uterus. Maybe he is just extra special. But it completely lost me with this jewel:

” Once the two of you have children together, however, you are in each other’s life in a very real way for decades, whether you want to be or not. They are a joint, ongoing project that you will have in common no matter who else you may fall in love with or how much un-in-love the two of you may someday grow to be. the good news is, children keep you so busy and distracted that you may not even notice if your marriage has gone to pot.”

Call me starry-eyed and idealistic, but I don’t think so.  So I have missed the rest of what I am sure is valuable and practical insights into childbearing, because I don’t want to stumble across any more of that nonsense.

Maybe Baby: This is a cool book, because it is a collection of essays about to reproduce or not, from a lot of different viewpoints.  I got about halfway through before getting distracted by something else, but I’ll finish it! I’m always reading three or four books simultaneously!

Baby Catcher: Chronicles of a Modern Midwife: As my current Favorite Book, it merits a cover picture

This book is by a practicing midwife, who writes about different births she was present for, and her own births and pregnancies as well. It has already restored my faith in my ‘I Want A Midwife’ decision, and made me cry. Twice. And I’m only on page 141.

Ack. I just leaned too hard on the arm of this comfy chair, and there was a suspicious cracking sound. Nothing looks broken, and it isn’t wobbling around, so I’m just going to pretend that there was no correlation between my leaning and that noise, okay?

A Tale As Old As Time May 10, 2008

The washine machine came! It works! Is shiny! I have done four loads of laundry already, and while folding the third load I realized why I am so disproportionately happy about this piece of household machinery. It is because the last time I lived somewhere that I could do laundry without carrying the laundry somewhere else? That would be before I went to college. So yeah, a while. Look! No desperate scrounging for quarters! No carrying heavy laundry baskets! Whee.

Fascinating, I know.

 

Joey took me to see Beauty And The Beast last night, at a local performing arts school. Poor Joey, who hates musical theater with a lively passion! And happy me, who loves Beauty And The Beast with a slightly livelier passion! It went a little something like this:

Joey: Seats. Too. Small. For. My. Massive. Manly. Shoulders.

Lucy: How am I so short? Cannot see half of the stage!

Person in Front of Lucy: I have a strangely large head, and will taunt you by leaning it in many different directions, just when you think you have found a good angle at which to see half of the stage.

Person next to Joey: Stranger! In my bubble! Help! My personal space is being invaded!

Lucy: I know this can’t be right, but whatever that is up there with the lights? Looks so much like a duck.

Joey: That IS a duck

Lucy: Really? I’m not just crazy?

Joey: I didn’t say that.

Lucy: But WHY is it a duck? This will bother me all night! Is it some theater superstition? Like, its a lucky duck?

Joey: Do they hunt in this play at all, maybe?

Lucy: Yes! Okay! Gaston shoots a duck right at the beginning! Life makes sense!

Joey: Bask in my smartness a little now.

Duck: *hangs there happlessly*

Lucy: Finally! Play is starting! Happiness at all the people singing their songs!

Belle: I am adorable! And have good voice! Except for that note. Pretend you didn’t hear that, and I will look extra adorable!

Gaston: I am a great actor! So much charisma! But cannot sing these manly barritone songs properly. You forgive me, because I am so good  at being so bad.

Maurice: *Frightens Lucy a little*

Beast: I have a beautiful voice! I make you cry a little! But am very cheesy actor, with my flailing about dramatically and all.

Lumiere: I am so funny! How is my voice so fabulously French and gay, whilst I chase after females? I do not know!

Mrs. Potts: My voice is better than anyone elses!

Chip: I am a girl playing a boy’s role! Whoops! I will be a very cute little disembodied head who says cute squeaky things.

Lucy: I am so happy! Oh the bliss! If only I could see without getting this blinding headache from stretching like so.

Joey: MORE singing? How is this possible? Am so proving my undying love to this woman right now.

Play: *ends*

Lucy and Joey: Clapping! Clap, Clap, Clap! Woot! Let us go now to IHOP.

LATER, AT HOME:

Lucy: *Sings melifluously* Look there he goes, Isn’t he dreamy? Monsieur Gaston, Oh he’s so cute! Be still my heart, I’m hardly breathing! He’s such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute!

Joey: *looks pained*

Lucy: Fine, I will stop with the singing now.

Joey: Oh, thank you babe.

Lucy: So the completely wrong answer, you silly man.

Joey: I mean, I LOVE your beautiful VOICE honey. No, I really do! Ack.

Lucy: *pouts* I can see that we will share all that love implies! We will be a perfect pair, rather like my thighs! Okay, I’m really done now.

Our cat, Maya: You were gone too long, people! To exact my revenge, I have POOPED! Mere inches away from the semi-clean litter box! That will teach you to ever leave me, ever again!

Joey: I will smoosh your face in the poo a little now, you cat, you.

Maya: Poop. Got. In. My. Mouth. A. Little. Can’t. Be. Good. Blech.

THE END

Except: How come when I did a Google image search for “beauty and the beast” I found multiple pictures of very, very large naked women riding motorcycles? MY EYES! MY EYES!

Where I Refer To Everyone As Fictional Characters Whom They Remind Me Of May 9, 2008

I started a blog today because my mother told me to. Am most obedient 23 year old ever! Also, because it is very boring to wait for the washing machine delivery people to get here and deliver my washing machine already. I could be doing laundry right now, if they would just hurry up! Also, because I want to be famous on the Internet. But alter-ego famous, so as to keep my lovely job and all.

 *Shhhhhh….Lucy isn’t my real name…*

BUT. My mom says I must blog now, because soon I will start trying to concieve a baby. Not all by myself, though. With my husband! Who has requested to be known as Joey! Like from Friends. Awww, now my little blog has its first theme! I should change the tagline to “Where I Refer To Everyone As Fictional Characters Whom They Remind Me Of”. Also, that would be a better title for this post than the dauntingly cheesy “Hello World!” automated title.

Where was I? Oh, the future-baby. The unlucky love-child of Joey from Friends and Lucy from The Chronicles of Narnia. The grown-up Lucy, obviously. And shut up, I have loved Narnia since I was three years old, and continue to find untold amounts of significance in those books. And am total nerd for the movies.

I have a “preconception counseling” appointment scheduled for this month, and have begun reading some fertility/baby books. And have made job-related arrangements. Joey and I are just really, really feeling like this is the time to start trying. Well, in a few months it will be. So hopefully I will have interesting things to write about. 

And now, the washing machine people are on their way! And now, you have to start a blog, mamma! Is your turn!

ps. How lame is it that I did copy that as my title? Lame, I know! But I couldn’t think of a title, and I feel panicked. A lame title! Nooooooo! Can’t stop using the word ‘lame’!