Reading Habits: Book Meme

Darla has tagged me with a book meme.

So, without further ado:

Do you remember how you developed a love for reading?
No. I remember when I developed a love for my husband and a love for Cohen brothers movies. Aside from that, I don't remember when or how I developed a love for reading, eating, cinema or anything else in my life that makes me happy, for that matter. ... I do have fond memories of going to the library a lot as a kid. Particularly for the brief period we lived in Kansas when I was a tot. Mom didn't have a job, so she stayed at home with me. We went to the library and the park every day. Rifling through storybooks and then rumbling through the playground. I also remember spending a lot of my grade school youth reading whatever newspapers and news magazines were lying around the house. We usually had 2 or 3 subscriptions at a time. As a result, my classmates thought I was a huge nerd. Nothing more confounding to her peers than a wonkish 8-year-old.

What are some books you read as a child?
Man, my memory sucks. I remember, as a small child, the Little Golden Books. Tawny, Scrawny Lion and the sort. I am a child of the 80s, and cross-marketing, so I remember having and enjoying several Sesame Street books. When I could read for myself, 2nd or 3rd grade, I remember reading almost all of Beverly Cleary's books - at least all I could get my hands on. I remember liking Skinnybones, Judy Blume's books and books written to compete with her. Though, they seemed to fall short of her talent. In about 5th or 6th grade, I went through a "real mysteries" and paranormal phase. I read a lot of books about UFOs and the Loch Ness monster, Amelia Earhart's disappearance and the like. I was lured by the fright and thrill of the possible but unproven.

What is your favorite genre?
Don't think I have one.

Do you have a favorite novel?
As with movies or music, my favorite of anything shifts with periods in my life. Novels that have really spoken to me in the last few years are Lamb and The Handmaid's Tale (both on my blogger profile). I haven't really found any novel that I've read in the last 2 or 3 years that's really struck me. With the exception of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, which I read earlier this year. That book keeps harping my memory. I liked its voice.

Where do you usually read?
In bed. On weekends, when I'm not running errands from the week or doing laundry, if it's not already occupied by Honey or Babydog, the fainting couch in our living room.

When do you usually read?
Before I fall asleep. On weekends.

Do you usually have more than one book you are reading at a time?
Rarely. I'm a slow reader and am easily distracted, so I usually just focus on one at a time. I find if I pick up another book while I'm reading one, it's a death knell for whichever one I began. How much of that is a testament to my short attention span and how much is a testament to the lameness of the first book, I don't know.

Do you read nonfiction in a different way or place than you read fiction?
No.

Do you buy most of the books you read, or borrow them, or check them out of the library?
It's a mix. Right now, I'm challenging myself to read books in my own library that I've accrued but not yet read, or have begun reading, but got distracted and didn't finish. So, I haven't checked out a book for a while. I think my favorite thing is to borrow books, though. Not only because I don't have to turn it in in 2 weeks or face a fine, but because it usually comes with a recommendation and an affection from the lender. When people share their music, movies or books or other media and culture with you, it brings you closer to them.

Do you keep most of the books you buy? If not, what do you do with them?
Yes. Did you not just read the previous paragraph? I do like lending my books out or giving them away.

If you have children, what are some of the favorite books you have shared with them? Were they some of the same ones you read as a child?
I don't have children. Though, I did read Dogzilla to Babydog one night.

What are you reading now?
Paula, by Isabel Allende. Not deep enough into yet to cry ... a lot.

Do you keep a TBR (to be read) list?
I have one on my computer somewhere. Anymore, I keep the list on our Amazon wishlist. Or ... I just go to my own bookshelves, as I'm trying to satisfy my self-styled challenge.

What’s next?
Not sure. I tried, for the umpteenth time, earlier this year to read Little Women, but I still can't get into that book. It's still on my bedstand. Mocking me. Maybe that one. Or Living Buddha, Living Christ, by Thich Nat Hahn, lent me by a dear friend last year. Though, I think I'll go for something fiction after two non-fiction in a row. We'll see.

What books would you like to reread?
The full Hitchhiker series. I've re-read the first book several times, but not the whole series. That, I've done only once.

Who are your favorite authors?
Douglas Adams. Though I wasn't that impressed with him when I read Mother Tongue, after a Brief History of Nearly Everything, I have a new appreciation for Bill Bryson. Kurt Vonnegut. It's been a few years since I've been on a KV wave, but I do really like him.

So that's that. I guess I'm supposed to tag people. How about the frequent readers? Pearl, Joe, Mommanator and Sonnjea. Happy Friday!

Mnemonic Music Memorial Day

I know I skipped last Monday. And I know I said I'd be focusing on regional music, but what can I say? I'm a flip-flopping backslider. Anyway, the only theme I could think of this week was that of songs that have been stuck in my head lately. I figured that's a pretty good topic for Memorial Day: songs that burn into your memory. If you're one who is easy to pick up on an earworm, you're welcome!

1. Hey Mama - Black Eyed Peas. One of my coworkers has taken to greeting me with the phrase, "hey mama." I'm not sure why. Regardless, every time she does, I hear this song. La la la la la!

2. On the Radio - Regina Spektor. I blame Pearl for this. She began a post with the lyrics to this song the other day. Ever since then, I can't shake it. Friday night I began humming it to myself as Honey and I prepped dough for the next day's bread. Not missing a beat, he chimed in with "uh-oh!" at the right times.

3. Daughters of the Soho Riots - The National. I just love this guy's voice. The tune is sad and simple. And I'm hung not only the line with the title lyrics, but the phrase, "break my arms around the one I love."

4. With Arms Outstretched - Rilo Kiley. Just in love with the driving rythm. I swear to goodness, I feel the breeze of the plains blowing through open car windows when I hear this song. Not hung up on the lyrics so much as just the happy strumming. Can't shake it.

5. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart - Wilco. The lyrics, "I wanna hold you in the Bible black pre-dawn" have been scrolling through my brain for over a month, now. Big earworm for me, lately. Plus I love the tinkling of the top of the piano keyboard; it's like music that comes at you from a 43 degree angle or something.

6. Shot in the Arm - Wilco. Yeah, two in a row. First of all, I love "we fell in love in the key of C ... followed me down the neck to D." I can totally see a couple of high school band or orchestra standmates who make googly eyes at eachother during rests in the music. But how great is the chorus, "something in my veins, bloodier than blood?" Hooked. Hooked, I tell you!! Plus the repetition just makes it easier for me to be this song's crack whore.

7. All These Things I've Done - The Killers. I've always liked how this song starts off and then builds and builds. Plus, again with the repetition. Easy way to get me hooked.

8. Stronger - Kanye West with Daft Punk. It seems lately that everyone around me has been speaking in multipliers of emphasis. The correct grammatical term escapes me right now. But I mean "more" words, "-er" words. And they don't just say, "let's do this better;" they speak in series: "we'll make it better, faster, stronger, bigger." And I can't help myself. This tune creeps in and I bob my head. Sometimes I even gesture with my fake "daft hands," but no one knows what I'm talking about. Well ... one did once, but in case you don't know what I'm talking about, a version (though clearly not a single-take at all) is below:



Anyway, we're on vacation, so I should probably put this puppy down and clean up for dinner with our friends. Have a great Memorial Day!

Rain, Rain go away

Chispas! This has been a rainy (and chilly) spring! And for all the wetness, I'm still sneezing and the roof of my mouth still itching. What gives? I thought rain tamped down pollen? No matter. It's rainy (uh-gain) this morning and I'm not feeling particularly inspired to go to work. Rainy days make me want to do puzzles, play Scattergories or read the paper. That said, I thought you might enjoy doing a puzzle yourself. Don't worry, it's a simple 12-piecer:



I don't have any neato function that allows you to play Scattergories directly on my blog, but if you click here, you can go to their online game site. It literally takes a minute. Their timer is pretty strict. Or if you feel like reading the paper - one other than yours - search for one here. I've never used this site before, I usually use another paper search site, but what the hay?

I've been obsessed with Flickr lately. (Welcome to 2005, Molly!) For about a year, I've been bugging Honey to add more photos to his account, so I finally just started my own. I've been adding new pictures every day and seeking out groups with pretty pictures that interest me. I've got a few "contacts" and I'm slowly stealing contacts off of them. Anyway, in the spirit of Flickr - taking pictures of my life and finding beauty in the banal, I thought I'd include this little snapshot:

I bought these this weekend from 10,000 Villages. I like the repurposing of "waste." When we visited South Africa, local artisans commonly transformed aluminum cans, plastic bags and other items most of us would consider refuse, into truly cool works of art.

With no clear exit strategy for this post, I'm including a portion of a quizzy-meme that Pearl - who discovered the tasty tragedy of high fructose corn syrup while visiting America - did a few weeks ago. It seems like a rainy day activity. The original is long, so I'll just do a few. Feel free to tag yourself.

What would you do if you opened up your front door to a dead person?
I'd freak out that a dead person was able to ring my door bell. Then, I'd call Devinoni, because he'd help me prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse.

What were you doing at 8:00 this morning?
It's 7:45, now. I'd best be in the shower by 8, if I want to get to work on time.

When did you last throw up?
May 3: morning. As I didn't have much to blow, I'd call it the slightly-less-than dry heaves, but Honey insists that even thin watery spew counts as vomit. All due - I suspect - to me scarfing down the gourmet pizza the night before with fresho-licious garlic, to which I am woefully allergic. Why do I throw caution to the wind?

Do you want to get married & have children one day?
Checked one. .. and yeah, I'd like to get as many experiences out of this life as possible.

Do you like ice cream?
Why is this a question? Do I like air? What mental case wrote this?

Would you ever consider moving to another country to be with the one you love?
Well ... I moved to Oklahoma to be with Honey. So, yes. Another country wouldn't be much of a stretch.

Do you have strange dreams?
Clearly you've never clicked on my "dreams" tag. Which reminds me: two nights ago, I dreamt that Javier Bardem put me on this massive monster truck. When I started driving it, I lost all control of the vehicle and accidentally drove over other people's cars in a parking lot - in reverse. They were all angry and threatening to sue. And then Justin Long (the Mac kid) offered to represent me. Last night I dreamt of shoddy cruise ships, I think.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Before I get into this, I wanted to fulfill the meme that lovely Mommanator tagged me for a few weeks ago.

Here are the rules:
Pick up the nearest book
(of at least 123 pages).

Open the book to page 123.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post the next three sentences.

The nearest book is what I'm reading, Orson Scott Card's Enchantment. Actually, I just passed page 123 last night.

"His was the only face the water could have shown her, for what other living person was linked to her by blood and love? My Itzak, my Vanya, what is happening to you?
He was dressed in the robe of a medieval monk, and behind him loomed the figure of an old man in priest's garb."

I'll tag, to do the meme next, Darla, Devinoni and if they're still reading my lazy posting-self, Koji's Kitchen, Pearl and Joe. And Virginia Gal, because I'm sure she's onto like her 6th book since reaching Denmark.

I'm still holding out hope that 2008 will be my year. It started out great, but I faced an upsetting hurdle Tuesday afternoon.

I had a minor day surgery scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. It was to last roughly half an hour. In and out, minimal invasion; I can resume my life tomorrow morning with no effects. HA! After I had been under for 45 minutes, Honey began to get suspicious. When the med student who introduced himself to us as the observer came out to retrieve Honey closer to the operation room, he knew something was wrong. Honey met with the doctor. Oops! Clearly, I'm conscious and fine now, but basically, the knock on wood, 2% chance that something would go wrong in this simple day surgery did. And the doctor ended up having to re-open the incision in my belly from my emergency surgery in December. I'm all sewn up and healing now. And my energy level is better than it was two days after my last surgery - maybe because it was just different, even though it's the same incision.

But, boy am I mad. I don't really fault the doctor. I understand what happened and why this had to get invasive. But the one thing that I've been looking forward to most has now been delayed from me for a while. When I came to, I remember asking the nurses like three or four times if it was Tuesday. They told me it was. Then one, making sure I knew when I was said, "And George Bush is still president." I groaned. "Can I go back to sleep? Can you just wake me up in January?" The laughed. I give myself mad props for being able to make coherent jokes mere moments out of anesthesia, while still groggy and confused as hell. Then the doctor then entered my line of sight. "Molly, I'm sorry, you're going to have to stay overnight. And you're not going to get to go to rehearsal tomorrow night." I immediately started bawling. The nurses were worried that I was in pain and surrounded me checking on me, asking if I wanted drugs. I didn't care about the pain. Heck, it only felt like world's worst ab workout. I couldn't go to rehearsal!!

When the doctor's office told me when they wanted to schedule this - the day before rehearsals for my show began again - I checked with him that I should be able to go to rehearsal the next night. Like each time I talked to him, I checked. As long as it's not too strenuous - major dancing, etc - I should be fine. And so long as this was a 1/2 hour day surgery, that would've been the case. Luckily, he felt completely awful about it. I think he knows I'm more traumatized by that than by the need for and execution of the surgery itself. So, I missed last night's rehearsal and will probably have to miss the first show next week; maybe also the second. It kind of depends on my doctor's orders and how well and quickly I'm healing.

If possible, I'm going to sit in on next week's rehearsals, and be in the audience for opening night. I'm emailing work to have them send me phone numbers for calls I've been needing to make, but for which work keeps getting in the way. Don't worry, though. I won't spend more than an hour on it. And if it requires me getting out of bed, I probably won't do it at all! This week, I'm basically not going to leave the house, cook, do laundry or anything. I want as full a recovery as I can have in 7 days. I want to win over my body this year. I'm tired of losing!

Ooh! A Meme!

Rules: Once tagged, you’re supposed to link to the person who tagged you. Then, post the rules before your list and list 8 random things about yourself. At the end of the post, tag and link to 8 other people and then leave them a comment telling them they’ve been tagged.

I have to admit, I'm not exactly sure how to link back to someone, but this was from Pearl, so if you click on her name, you can visit her blog, which is very interesting and, I think, inspiring. So, before I begin my 8 random facts, I'd like to tag: Devinoni, Darla D, Mommanator, Sonnjea (who has probably long since stopped reading this), VirginiaGal, NubianTemptress and JoeinVegas. I've pared down some of my blog-reading in the last few months, so if I haven't included you and you're reading this, just please forgive me as I'm trying to get back on the horse. (Seven is almost 8, right?)

1. Unlike most people I know, I never went through a phase when I disliked my middle name. I have always loved the fact that is unusual and evocative. To this day, I love seeing people cock their heads to the side in amusement when I tell them what it is.

2. When I was a little girl, sometimes I'd be very disoriented when waking up. It wasn't the disorientation you feel like when you wake up in another room and you've forgotten that you went to sleep there. Nor that you're coming out of a dream. I would lie in bed, hear the voices of my family throughout the house and intellectually understand they were my family, but feel emotionally unattached. Almost like I was a character in a play, aware that I was in a play. I would hear my parents in the hallway and think: "They are not really my parents," and I could feel in my bones that I had been somehow dropped into this realm accidentally. Like something out of Quantum Leap - but these episodes predated Quantum Leap, so the idea was my own. I knew, for those nano-seconds, that those voices did not belong to my real family. Because my real family lived in outerspace and we were all fuzzy Sesame Street-style monsters. And if I closed my eyes and opened them again, I'd see my blue familiar parents hovering over me. It would take me a few seconds to shake out of it and sometimes I'd have a little twingey head pain. I outgrew this by about the time I was 9 or 10.

3. Also as a child, I had recurring dreams of Mahatma Ghandi falling into infinite blackness against a neon spiral. I was worried for him and it scared me.

4. I tend to dislike things that people like, or that are expected of me to like, just to be contrary. Not that my dislike isn't genuine, it's just if it's expected of me to feel positively about something, I'm going to approach it with a dim view first. The same is true about things that are expected of me to dislike. I'll probably like it at the outset, just to be contrary; but I'm not going to dislike it just because everyone else feels strongly about it.

5. Despite my mother's best efforts to fight it, I really do like Willie Nelson. And Johnny Cash. And any country music that tells a heartbreaking story; not dolled up for the slick Nashville types. (see number 4.)

6. Even in my ugliest cynicism, I can't deny that I still believe the sun'll come out tomorrow.

7. In 1995, I had a random, unsolicited metaphysical experience with the color yellow.

8. I think one should know when her life is a movie. It's important to recognize certain plot points and recurring elements in your life. You should always be aware of visual motifs and musical themes as well as cheesy dialogue. It's becoming increasingly clear to me that sometimes my life is a movie. Oh, look, there's that irritating tertiary character from act one emerging in act three to save the day. She's going to try to pull off what? Well, in the real world, she'd get away with it, but this is a movie and karma has a way of making sure she won't. ... and I don't. I'm learning to listen for the swelling music and look for the visual motifs.

... and a bonus. For all of these above random things about myself, I am stunned that there is a person willing (and I hope happy) to spend the rest of his life with me.

Mimicking a Meme

I'm stealing this meme from from Sonnjea, because I liked it. I already left a message on her comment saying as much, so I hope she approves.
(Oh, please approve, SonnjeaB!!)


You can only type one word; no explanations.

1. Yourself: achey
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): geekasexy
3. Your hair: ponytail
4. Your mother: conniption
5. Your father: laughing
6. Your favorite item: computer
7. Your dream last night: frayed
8. Your favorite drink: wine
9. Your dream car: efficientinormous
10. The room you are in: dark
11. Your ex: long-gone
12. Your fear: terrortalitatarianism
13. What you want to be in 10 years: momartisterrific
14. Who you hung out with last night: friends
15. What you’re not: starving
16. Muffins: belt-top
17: One of your wish list items: hybrid
18: Time: 7PM
19: The last thing you did: Eat
20. What you are wearing: pajamas
21. Your favorite weather: sunny
22. Your favorite book: Lamb
23. The last thing you ate: bread
24. Your life: wonderful
25. Your mood: content
26. Your best friend(s): Honey
27. What are you thinking about right now: movies
28. Your car: expiring
29. What are you doing at the moment: movie-watching
30. Your summer: desirous
31. Your relationship status: latched
32. What is on your tv: absent
33. What is the weather like: snowy!!! (FINALLY!)
34. When is the last time you laughed: dinner

What is this tagging business?

I visited Virginia Gal's blog the other day and she had some brief survey of herself which she then said she had "tagged" me with. However, she never sent me a note saying as much so I probably wouldn't have known it had I not visited her blog. So, I suppose it's really she who has a tag and it is up to me to visit her tag to see if my name is on it. Oh, well so here goes, I suppose:

FIVE RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

1. If, when walking along a sidewalk, I feel like one foot has led stepping over cracks too much, I'll change my stride so that the other foot gets the chance to lead.

2. Sausage pizza grosses me out.

3. I love the non-elastic skin and tawny liver spots on old peoples' hands - especially my mother's and grandmother's.

4. I wish I had a singular passion in life - other than loving my family - that people could look at and say, "oh yeah, Molly loves to do this more than anything." Y'know, something that identifies me in a way; separates me from the background noise of all the other boring, middle class white folks in America.

5. I worry everyone I know and/or love secretly believes I'm incompetent, a dullard and just generally uninteresting and overrated.

I don't know if I'm supposed to "tag" others. I don't think many people read this. But I'll just list some folks whom I think might respond or about whom I'd be interested in reading 5 random things. Nubiantemptres43, VegasJoe, Fotographic Overlord, churchgal and any reader named Niamh: you're it!