Ten years, really?

Aw, shit.  This weekend is my ten year class reunion.  And I keep getting shit for it.  Mostly, people just saying condescendingly "Oh, I didn't go to mine.  I didn't even go.  I'm much cooler than such things and I don't even believe in going.  I don't even know when it was.  I don't even know math."  (Possibly a paraphrase.  Remember kids, only about 65% of shit I say is true.)  Anyway, here's what I can say about that.  Ahem.  I'm going.  I'm going because there are a handful of people I would like to catch up with, a handful of people I like to hang out with anyway, and a handful of people I haven't even met yet, since they can barely hold up their heads.  Barring a legitimate scheduling excuse, I think perhaps not going would indicate an insecurity about where you are in your life (I should be MARRIED by now; I should be living in NEW YORK CITY by now; I should've gone on THE PRICE IS RIGHT by now).  Me, I got an eye on the bright side:  Not quite there yet, but on the cusp of something.  So I'm going.  But guess what I didn't go to?  Senior Skip Day.  I skipped it.  So go on trying to be badass about skipping your reunion because of your bacne/false sense of superiority/fat ass/disappointment in yourself.  Remember, I skipped Senior Skip Day.  And I'm going to my motherfucking class reunion.  Boom.  Lawyered.

I met a 22 year old recently.  Dear Age of 22:  You sucked.  Big time.  I just heard Anne Hathaway (pay attention, this is gonna turn into a helluva segue) on Chelsea Lately (because I am like two weeks behind) talk about how much the early 20s suck, and part of the reason that the early 20s suck is because everyone is talking about how awesome the early 20s are, and you're like fuck, what am I doing wrong??  All I could think (besides, nice shoes/hair/lipstick/face, Anne Hathaway!) was how right she is.  And on that note, here's your weekly (oh, let's not be too ambitious here) book rec:  One Day by David Nicholls.  I'm making it easy on you two weeks in a row, because this one is also a film, starring Anne Hathaway no less.  (Have I gone on my diatribe about how I think movies and books are different animals created in different mediums in order to accomplish different things and can therefore not really be compared?  I didn't think so.  Enjoy that.)  I've heard bad things about the film:  how it portrays Dexter, the main male character, as a lout who can only be transformed into a decent human being through the love of a woman.  And some shit about Emma (main female) only becoming lovable after she (late bloomer) makes herself over.  That aside (and if I see some passive-aggressive facebook post linking to the Jezebel article that discusses the movie, I will be passive-aggressively annoyed and will continue to provoke you, just so you know), the book meets up with Dexter and Emma on the same day every year.  Each chapter is one day in the life of Emma and/or Dexter, beginning with their graduation day from college.  They both take interesting paths that intersect from time to time in curious and sometimes obvious ways.  Eventually they'll fall in love, and then something terrible will happen, and you'll say to yourself "Self, you should not be reading this book out in the open, with your gapey mouth and wet eyes!  Fool!"  Read it because I said so.  (Noticing a theme, here?) 

Also put on your list:  the Dugard (A Stolen Life, Jaycee Dugard) and its fictional counterpart Room by Emma Donoghue.  The Dugard is Jaycee's account of her kidnapping, with her reflections looking back on her experiences.  It's horrifying because it's true.  Reading it takes about two minutes, and for fuck's sake, don't we owe it to her for leaving her kidnapped for so long?  Go buy it.  Room is a work of fiction, but is equally compelling.  In Room, the kidnapping victim is raped by her captor, resulting in her pregnancy, and her son narrates the book.  Room is where they stay.  The first-person narration by a small child lends an immediacy to the book that is terrifying and suspenseful.  I might elaborate on this more later, but for now, read it because I said so. 

(You like how I just figuratively shove the book at you and say "Read this!"?  Reasons I'm not good at my job for $1000. . .)

(I am dropping the mic here, a la Beyonce, but no belly rubbing.  You hear me?  NO BELLY RUBBING!)

S. . .

Can't Read Too Gud.

Oh hey.

So, a few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of sitting around with a bunch of smart women, talking about books.  We sat around the living room, with a charming view of corn fields right outside the back deck (NOT patio).  Talking about books is nothing new for me; at work, I often get asked for book recommendations, usually right after I'm asked whether we're going out of business (no, that's Borders, google it and stop calling me) or where the bathroom is (beneath the blue Catch 22 sign . . . And yes, I'm aware that there must be a pun there somewhere but I haven't found it yet.)  Truth is, I HAVE read some good stuff lately.  I've also seen some damn good tv, lest you think I'm one of those elitist snobs who gave up tv and only reads books.  (As if.)  So without further ado, I give you one (maybe two) book recommendations.  The best thing about my book recommendations is that sometimes I forget things and sometimes I misplace memories, so I could be completely wrong about some of the details.  All recommendations come with a disclaimer:  I may or may not be lying.  About all of it.  This ain't Wikipedia, people.  Another caveat:  I'm not cool.  If you think I have some indie rec for some book you haven't heard of, well, you might get lucky on occasion, but most likely I'm going to tell you about something that was released 2+ years ago.  Deal. 

The Help

Everyone has read this book.  If you can't read gud, this is a good starting place for you.  This is a great book to recommend, because the movie, starring my personal favorite Emma Stone, as well as the inimitable Viola Davis, just came out this month.  Which means, if you get halfway through the book and decide I'm full of, ahem, shit pie, I just saved you 12 bucks at the movie theater!  You're welcome!  I haven't actually seen the movie yet (I'm too pretty broke to sit in the dark that long), but I have heard good things.

So what's it all about?  Well, it's set in the mid-20th century in Mississippi and is loosely based on some of the white author's real-life experiences with her black maid.  Skeeter is a wealthy white woman who has come home from university with (gasp!) no husband.  Stuck under her mother's thumb, and with aspirations to be a writer.  She takes the only job she can find, working as a columnist at the local newspaper writing a cleaning Q & A.  Big problem:  she doesn't know how to clean anything.  Enter Aibileen, another family's maid, who has raised nearly 20 white babies.  Aibileen helps Skeeter answer cleaning problems, and eventually they decide to write a book about the secret lives of the maids, aka, the help.  This book has come under some criticism for being just another tale of white folk savin' black folk, a la The Blind Side.  I think it's much more than that.  For starters, Kathryn Stockett is a fantastic storyteller.  Her characters are well-developed and three-dimensional.  I can think of one in particular (Hilly, a snobby debutante with a nasty attitude) who plays a bit like a caricature, but for the most part, these characters are real.  Ultimately, it's a book about a group of women trying to provoke change in a changing world, despite their stagnant little town.  It's a good, quick read, and you're totally missing out if you don't read it.

Okay, I think that's all I can muster for now.  I mean, it's been 5 months since I've blogged and I don't want to pull my brain or something.  But read The Help, and enjoy.  And after you've done it, tell me what you think.  

Someday I'll learn to do fancy sigs like b.cheniful, but for now,

S...