There's a (Slight) Chance I Might Be Going to Hell - 11/29/2007

I put a hold on this book and got a call from our local (insert banjo music here) library that it was there. I go to pick it up....and it's a book on cd. Ooops. I did not realize I held the wrong one.

This was my first foray into audio books, can you believe it? Me, book psycho nut has never put a book in her cd player. WHY NOT?? A 35-40 minute drive to work whizzes by with a book to listen to (although I do miss my Mix Morning Update Time.)

BE BACK SOON. MY DAUGHTER WANTS TO PLAY CATCH AND HAS ASKED ME LIKE 10,000 TIMES IN A ROW.

I'm back. A day later.

This is Laurie's first novel. Her other books were compilations of her newspaper articles based on her life. This book SCREAMS Laurie Notaro. The main character and husband are basically her and her real husband, with a little bit of changes. It's fine. She's funny and congratulations to her on her first fiction foray.

Mae Roberts moves to a small town in Washington state where her husband has gotten an assistant professor's position at a local college. To say the town is quirky is an understatement. To say that Meg has bad luck is A REAL understatement. She tries SO hard to make friends, and fails miserably. Several times, I said "Oh PLEASE." at the things she did and the things that happened to her.

If you've never read Laurie Notaro's work, you may think her writing style is odd, sarcastic and sometimes trying too hard to be funny. She grows on you. The story is NOT a great work of literature by any means. It's cute, sometimes cringe-worthy, and sometimes laugh-aloud fun.

Hey, does this count as a book I've read, if I didn't read it?

Into the Woods - 11/26/2007

This book was sent to my with my Soap order from my friend Amy at The Foil Hat.

Written by Tana French, who reminds me of an angry elf and whose back cover photograph gave me the wiggins, is a mystery? Detective book? A Whodunnit set in Ireland. The main character is a man who at age 12, was found in the woods, terrified, covered in blood and with no memory as to what happened to his 2 best friends out there in the woods behind the housing development in Ireland where all 3 kids lived. Fast forward 20 or so years to this man, now a Murder detective (no one knows who he is; he is using his middle name as his first name now) who investigates another murder in the same woods.


For the first few chapters, I found the author's writing very...verbose. I vacillated between totally thinking she was a stuck-up word snob, and wishing I could write that way. I think it got better as I read, or I got more used to it.


The character, Ryan was very well-written and his partnership with Cassie, a female detective was great; something we all wish we had. Then towards the end, his character pretty much goes bonko after an incident with his partner Cassie and his actions are just so out of character, especially how their friendship was portrayed; I wanted to smack the snot out of him for how he treated her and was mad at him for it.


The case itself was weird and I did not guess who it was. I was hoping for closure, but then again, I don't want it. I want happy endings but then get mad if the story is too formulaic (Great Expectations) and I can predict what is going to happen, so I am usually fine with an ending that leaves things unresolved. (Joss Whedon hates happy endings and has destroyed me forever on them).


I liked the author's writing style when she was relating Ryan's flashbacks and memories; they were really alive with color and "senses". I also found that it was more "American" than Irish. I did not really get a European feel reading this, and that was a bit of a bummer, as I tend to really like European/British writing and movies.


I enjoyed most of the book. Even with creepy elf lady staring at me.

Great Expectations - 11/21/2007

I had to read this book in high school and remembered NOTHING about it other than there was a boy named Pip and something about a convict and an old lady, that's it. I can't remember ever having read any other Dickens novel either other than "A Christmas Carol", but that's not saying much, considering my memory, and so I don't know if this sort of writing is his...forte' or modus operandi or something. Meaning, I found the book to be very formulaic. Is it that I am a 21st century jaded person? Possibly. But when I can predict everything that happened (and no, not because I remembered, because I truly did not), then I consider it formulaic. This books give meaning to "It's a Small World After All."

Everyone knows everyone else. Pip's encounters, over and over and over, are with the same tight-knit group of people; lawyers, clerks, rich crazy old ladies, cold beautiful girls, annoying town folk, escaped convicts. Really, how small is the England of old I think my main problem with the story is that I found no sympathy for Pip. Yes, at first, you feel sorry for him with his over-the-top sister who treats him and her husband Joe like the bane of her existence. She is mean, she puts on airs and she was a nag. You feel his terror at having met a convict and being threatened with death if he does not feed the convict. Joe and Pip had my sympathy, but then I start to notice a change in him when, by request, he goes to visit Miss Havisham, a rich eccentric lady who has not changed her clothes or cleaned her room since she was left at the alter on her wedding day by a swindler who took her money and broke her heart. After visiting her dilapidated mansion and meeting her beautiful ward Estella, he hates his gruff hands, he's embarrassed by his small house, by his mean clothing and mostly by Joe, his brother-in-law and best friend who has been nothing but wonderful to him. When Pip receives his "windfall" and is to have "Great Expectations" from an anonymous benefactor, he just becomes this insufferable fool and snob. He looks down on his town, he looks down on Joe and their nursemaid Biddy, who takes care of his sister who has been incapacitated by an intruder.

Pip journeys to London thinking Miss Havisham is his benefactor and just.....spends money and becomes more of a snob. He, never having anything in his life, is in debt now. His spending is out of control. He is sent to Mr. Pocket, Miss Havisham's relative, to get educated and become a gentlemen. His scant visits home involve him completely ignoring Joe, Joe's wife (his sister), his good friend Biddy and being condescending to the town folk. In London, he meets a lovely character named Wemmick who is ALL BUSINESS at work with a lawyer, who happens to be Miss Havisham's lawyer, and at home is a wonderful, caring, eccentric man. Pip pines away for Estella who is just cold and calculating, having been brought up by the heart-broken Miss Havisham to BE cold and break men's hearts.

In the end, he finds out who his real benefactor is, and everyone ends up being acquainted to each other in some ridiculous form or another (this guy is her dad, and his partner broke the other woman's heart and this maid is really her mom and yada yada yada) and it's just a bit over the top.

Pip loses his fortune, has to go home with his tail between his legs and eventually gets a job with his best friend, who he secretly funded when he had money. He meets Estella again in the end, newly widowed, and you get the idea that maybe they will get together. This was not Dickens original ending. He wrote Estella remarried after being widowed and their having a chance meeting on the street. Pips remains alone. Critics and readers hated the ending and he was asked by his publishers to write a newer ending with a little bit of hope to it, which is what he wrote. I am sorry to the Dickens lovers out there, I did not like this one. One more off my Top 100 Classics to read.

Say it Ain't So, Joss! - 11/19/2007

I was Googling Joss (which sounds kind of pervy, but isn't) and came across this interview on MSN about Senor Whedon.

Main points: "Ripper" is STILL not a go. Fox needs to get off their butts and let the BBC use the Tony Head/Rupert Giles character already, before Tony....gets along in age. Oh, don't get me wrong, Tony is still the hottest 53 year old out there.

but eventually, even *he* won't be able to stand up to his moniker of 'Ripper'.

Also, no Serenity sequel. What?

To quote Spike, "Is everyone here very stoned?" Why NOT a sequel? When the DVD is released in December 20, 2005 and by January 15, 2006, you've made 9.1 MILLION dollars (in less than a month), you've got something there.

I have not had a Whedon fix in a while. No big-screen "Wonder Woman" now either. But wait, what's this I hear? Another Whedon series coming to tv, AND starring a Buffy Alum? Don't play with my emotions Joss. This had better be on the air and soon!

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Knees and Toes - 11/19/2007

The inventor of the annual female exam MUST have been a man. Who else could come up with this stuff? Men, just turn around. Click the "back" button. No need to go further. Women plumbing is not for you.

I call this my "annual overhaul." I work in a place where the all the equipment gets checked and serviced every time it goes out the door, but once a year, the motors must also have an "annual overhaul." On the calendar at work, it said "Kaaren in late; Annual Overhaul."

I have never been a fan of this exam, but have never really had any horror stories. I have been blessed with really great doctors. I have two actually that I use; my regular practitioner (who I call Egon)

and my OBGYN, who I will call Theresa, as she is a saint. They are in separate offices. Egon's staff are the ones who did Jake's toe. My OBGYN was booked through December, so I scheduled my appointment at my regular doctor's office and got the new nurse to do the job.

The new chair almost had me laughing aloud. It was a regular old chair and next thing I know, it's an inverted U and I'm all over the place. It was possibly the best annual exam, as far as these go. I felt not a darned thing. And the new nurse practitioner was SOOOOO NICE. She gets an A+.

Let's fast-forward to this morning. I have another exam to do. This one involved drinking 32 ounces of water before arriving. I did so, got to the office early, and sat in the waiting room. And waited. And Waited. And Waited. I would like for you to measure out 32 ounces of water, drink it in a half hour period and then not pee...for 2 & 1/2 hours. I was crying, really crying, in the waiting room. I felt like such a fool, but I have never had my bladder this full in my LIFE. I was hyperventilating. I was convincing my self to be calm, while also convincing myself to forget this crap, cancel the appointment and just go pee. It was the worst feeling I have ever had.

The receptionist saw me crying and said "We'll be right with you." Five minutes and I am in the exam room. Fifteen MORE torturous minutes and I am finally allowed to use the rest room.

Go, drink 32 ounces. Let me know how it goes for you. *gag*

Goodbye to You - 11/15/2007

We're sad. The cool neighbors moved one month early. They were leaving in December. These are the neighbors that gave us their lawn mower and whose daughter is Isabel's first *real* non-family friend. *sigh*

Mr Neighbor came over Saturday to say they moved up their move...to Thursday! WHAT? Huh? No!

I planned on making a scrap book of all the cool times Isabel and their daughter spent together; Isabel's birthday, her birthday, 4th of July, random days where we watched her or she came over to play, the football game her dad officiated and we went to see. I printed pictures, bought a mini-scrap book and went to town. I finished it last Friday. He told us they were moving the next day. Talk about timing. (and "chip-missing" David turns to me in front of him and says "Hey, did you finish that thing you were making for them?" My reply, "Yes, you moron." Anyone have a sensitivity-chip available?)

I invited them over to dinner on Wednesday. In the meantime, random things kept appearing in our garage. Three gallons of unused bleach. A bike. Car mats. Yesterday, they came over for dinner and asked to borrow Isabel's wagon. They emptied their fridge and freezer and brought it over. Holy cow. And all their cleaning supplies (the moving company won't transport chemicals). We had fajitas (steak, shrimp & chicken) with all the fixings, including rice and refried beans.

Mrs. Neighbor loved the scrapbook.

The moving van just left. Mr. Neighbor came by to bring more cleaning supplies, give me a hug, and drop off a $100 Visa gift card (he said for mowing their grass while their house stays on the market, but that was what the lawnmower was for). There they go.

Must....Choke....Phone - 11/15/2007

I hate cell phones. It is no secret. I hate that people assume that the if a cell phone rings that we MUST answer it. We are so self-important that this phone call MUST be the end-all and be-all call. I know one who answers the cell phone while using the bathroom! Really? Is it THAT important that you cannot wait 3 minutes and check your call record? Or people who are in a conversation with a live person in front of them, their cell rings and they cut the live person off to answer the phone. How rude!

Let me explain something about me: If I am tired, watching tv, bathing my daughter, taking a nap, talking to my son, cooking dinner, reading a book, etc. etc. I might not answer the phone. Sorry. LEAVE A MESSAGE. I will get back to you; you know how great I am at keeping in touch.

I have a couple of people both at work and in my personal life who will:

1) ..beep me on the two-way and immediately start talking. I AM ON THE PHONE WITH A CUSTOMER and all I hear is someone talking very loudly about something they need. Here's a tip: Give a "Courtesy Chirp." Beep someone....and WAIT. Don't assume that because you have free time, that the person you are beeping is free. I've been in the bathroom at work and heard my two-way chirp and the person start talking. I'm in the can....away from the phone - I can't hear you!

2).....beep me or call me on the cell while I am on the land-line talking to someone. When I don't immediately answer the beep or call, they immediately call my office land-line. HELLO???? I did not answer the cell phone or radio for a REASON. Why didn't you leave a message? Don't immediately call back on the land-line. I am busy with the many people calling me needing something.

There is no cell-phone courtesy and it kills me. I don't understand the rudeness of taking calls in a meeting, in a restaurant, while talking to someone in person. STOP IT ALREADY.

I am the WoMAN - 11/11/2007

My son tried to use his shower last night. Our tubs & showers only have one handle. They turn in an arc, the top of the arc being the hottest you can get. He got the handle mid-way....and it stuck. He called me, I tried, and could not get it to move. Afraid to yank too hard and break something, I had him use my shower and told myself I would check it out in the morning. I SO did not want to have to pay a plumber $90 an hour or so for something stupid.

This afternoon, I took a small led light and pulled off the handle. There's a....long metal stick? that is moved by the handle. It would not budge. There is also a black plastic piece, and behind it, I see white paper. Looks like the paper is stuck. I grab my tweezers and my hair-cutting scissors and I attempt to get at this piece of paper. As I am hacking away, I realize the plastic black piece comes out. I pull it out with the tweezers, remove the paper behind it (some plastic-coated paper with serial numbers and blah blah. I put the black plastic piece in and ...voila! I can turn the water al the way to hot! I take it off again, just to make sure this plastic paper is not vital to its inner workings, put the black piece in...and VOILA....It's STUCK AGAIN. What?

Turns out, the black piece is a guard of sorts. Depending on how you place it on the metal rod, you can get the knob to stop at certain points, thus ensuring your toddler won't accidentally turn the handle all the way to hot and scald themselves. I don't know how it got turned around, but I got it on correctly and we now have a working faucet.

I walk out of the bathroom and say loudly "Who's the man?!?!"

....which reminded me of my wedding and a funny back story.

My husband's uncle performed the ceremony. He gave a beautiful speech. At one point, he tells my husband "David...you're....THE MAN," and goes on to say how he will be the head of the household. Meanwhile, my sister the bridesmaid and one of my other bridesmaids are trying not to look at each other for fear of cracking up. Waaaaaay in the back of the courtyard, some of my co-worker friends who flew in from Boston, DC, Seattle & New Orleans are hanging out listening. The chick from Boston hears "David, you're the man," turns to the other girls and says "Has he MET Kaaren?"

Cry the Beloved Country - 11/07/2007

"Cry the Beloved Country" by Alan Paton was given to me as one of 9 books I received from a relative, David's Aunt Joan. It was one of the books that she said was one of her most "beloved."

I am going to try and write something, as my daughter runs around yelling for things. She's getting over a 24-hour bug of sorts and has not been pleasant, poor thing. I am afraid I won't do this review justice, but I keep forgetting to do it, and I finished the book 2 weeks ago.

The book tells the story of several people whose lives are intertwined by a murder in racially stunted South Africa. The murder is not really even the core of the book, so I don't want you to think it's what the novel is about. I wish I knew more of the history of South Africa and Apartheid. Separate but Equal does not really make sense to me.

The story is about a Zulu Pastor, Stephen Kumalo, a very humble, God-fearing, obedient, good natured man, going to the big city of Johannesburg to locate his sister and her son, and most importantly, his grown son, who has lost contact with Kumalo and his wife in their very small, very poor, very tight-knit community that is dying a slow death due to the over-tilling and over-planting of their drought-stricken land.

"And some cry for the cutting up of South Africa without delay into separate areas, where white can live without black and black without white..."

The writing style often reminded my of Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath and how Steinbeck would throw in small paragraphs of life of the people around the city or the area affected by the strife affecting our main characters. No one we know; just people in coffee houses, and picket lines and meetings. I liked that in Steinbecks' work and found out later that Paton was a fan of "Grapes of Wrath". There is a lot of the oppression and the racial divide that is present in South Africa in the book. A lot of ideas and no quick solutions. Nothing that will happen within a generation. So many oppressed, so few trying to help. One of those trying to help the natives, a white man named Arthur Jarvis, is killed in his home by Pastor Kumalo's son.

"Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. "

The book delves into Pastor Kumalo's shame. His hurt. His not understanding the people and the city of Johannesburg and how they can be so hurtful, thieving, lying. He is so sad. His small-town ideals and faith are slowly stripped away as he deals with the incarceration of his son and the finding of his sister (who ended up in prostitution). But it also shows him hope; the Pastor Msimangu and his devotion & generosity towards Kumalo. Father Vincent, Mrs. Lithebe - all shining places in dark Johannesburg.

The second part of the book deals with Mr. Jarvis, Arthus Jarvis' father. A man of wealth who never even shook the hand of a black man until his son's funeral, where the great outpouring of love, respect and support for his son Arthur got him curious. Who was this son who left their small town (coincidentally, the same town as Kumalo and Kumalo's son!) and came to Johannesburg to be a pioneer for change for the natives? Who was this person he raised , who is now being lauded for his strength and courage? He reads his son's letters and manuscripts and sees the work that his son is trying to accomplish - to educate, to empower, to aid the black man.

"I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they turn to loving they will find we are turned to hating."

Both Mr. Jarvis and Mr. Kumalo go back to their town. Kumalo to his church, wife and poor tribe, Jarvis to his estate. But you see a transformation in Jarvis. His son he hardly knew changed him. Jarvis sends milk to the church, sends aid to the village in the form of a farming teaching aid, he helps build dams. He understands that he alone cannot change things but someone, somewhere, somehow has to start. The man whose son is killed helps the father of the man who committed the murder. It's a bittersweet story. We end with Kumalo in the mountain, watching the sunrise on the death day of his son, and although those rays signify the death of his child, it also signifies the rebirth of his tribe; not in his life-time, but it's a start.

Business in the Front - 11/07/07

For the past few months, I've had odd encounters with some neighbors. I use the term loosely, because they don't live on my street. They live on one of the streets that my street intersects. This street is the "back" way to the Wal-Mart that's less than a mile away, hidden (for now) by trees. I use the "back way" only when I go to Wal-Mart. In going this way, I often pass by the Burnt Orange Hummer House. (The Hummer's orange, not the house). Often-times I pass the Hummer itself driving on the street. The driver, I can't tell if it's a he or a she, emphatically WAVES at me. Full-on spaztic "HEY THERE" waving. I have no idea who they are. We have never met, never spoken. *I* think they are confusing me with another Silver Jeep like mine whose owner lives somewhere in this neighborhood and I have seen a few times. I'll lamely wave and kind-of shrug. Sometimes, I'll drive by their house, and the lady of the house waves enthusiastically at me as I drive by. I smile and wave back. No clue who they are.

David and I are driving the back way from Wal-Mart one day and it reminds me to tell him about Hummer people. Right as I start to say "Oh, yea. There's these people in a Hummer...." the Hummer drives by and arms wave happily. I wave and finish my story with a "See?? See?? Who are they?" David doesn't know them either.

This Saturday, as I come back from buying something I am sure we needed, I pass by Hummer House. Never again shall it be called "Hummer House," because...as I drove by and waved back at the man riding the lawn mower, all I could think was...."Business in the Front, Party in the Back."



The man possessed the most perfect, most fantastic, most mulletastical mullet EVER. Pin straight LONG black hair, stopping right at his lower back. Oh, yes indeed there is a party in the back. Spikey short hair up front, for those board meetings.

Mullet Mansion man and I, waving emphatically back, will share that memory forever.