Books I didn't finish, May 2010

Emily of Deep Valley by Maud Hart Lovelace (yes, the Betsy-Tacy lady). Took out b/c Mitali Perkins writes the forward to the new edition. But I couldn't get past the first half of the book where Emily is just so depressed that she isn't going to college with all her friends. Sorry, I don't do books where folks are depressed when I'm barely holding on myself. (Sorry Mitali! The second half looks great, but I can't do it right now.)

Which takes me right into Ranganathan's Library Bill of rights.

Dr. Shiyali Ramamrita Ranganathan (1892–1972) of India was an inventor, educator, librarian, and a philosopher.

These laws are:

1. Books are for use.
2. Every reader his [or her] book.
3. Every book its reader.
4. Save the time of the reader.
5. The library is a growing organism.

(from Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_laws_of_library_science, viewed 5/6/10)

So, while someone may LOVE a book, it's perfectly okay that someone else doesn't. I know this, as Babelbabe and I have completely different likes--I cannot read dystopias, for instance. I had a conversation about this with LA, one of my new library friends, who admonished me after I told her I couldn't finish

Living Oprah by Robyn Okrant. Robyn set out to do everything Oprah said to do for one year. At the end of the year, she got a book contract, I guess, because the blog is now a book. When I saw how much money this woman spent each month (it was listed at the start of each chapter) I balked. I don't have that much money to spend on a side project, and I think she was in school when she wrote the book as a blog and her husband was finishing a novel...after a chapter, I ditched it.

All I did was ask by Terry Gross. This one is just really overdue. I hope to procure my own copy, that's how much I loved this book. I read it during the three months (yes, see, overdue!) that I was in the Artist's Way group, and it really educated me on how artists think. One of my favorite quotes from the book is from Sonny Rollins.

Terry Gross: You're a virtuoso performer, but you're known for practicing every day.

Sonny Rollins: Monk said to me one time that if it wasn't for music, life wouldn't be worth living. You know, if I don't play my horn for a while, I actually begin to get sick. I wonder, "well, gee. What's the matter with me?" Then I realize I haven't played my horn for a few days.

WOW. That hit me. As one who has been struggling with all kinds of infections on and off this fall/winter/spring, and as a very blocked writer, I thought, that is something I can take to the bank. That is something that comes to me when I sit down and think, doing my morning pages is so silly. [Morning pages are Julia Cameron's answer to getting the junk out. Artists that are not writers find them very helpful. Artists that are writers find them frustrating. Why do I need to just write, with no purpose in mind?]

the last time i saw you by Elizabeth Berg. GAG ME WITH A SPOON, this book is horrible. It's about a quartet of octogenarians getting ready for their fortieth high school reunion. I remember, this morning, as I sat doing my M.P.s, that I don't trust a writer that doesn't have one bad book, it means they are not trusting to explore. And I love most of what Eliz. Berg writes. But not this one.

Jane's Fame by Claire Harman. I thought maybe this would be about the effect Jane has had on us all, even now, in the year 2010. I haven't actually read any Austen bios, so this was moderately interesting. But not enough to keep me listening for 9.5 hrs. I think I listened to disc 1.

And the audio book I would consider purchasing as audio AND in hardcover: When you reach me, the Newbery Award winning novel by Rebecca Stead.

At first blush, this book seemed too creepy for me, told in first person to an unknown "you." So I couldn't get into the book, even though Marian the Librarian had said I would like it, and the at least 9 librarians on the Newbery committee liked it, and Sara Zarr liked it...so I got the audio. Which is wonderfully read by Cynthia Holloway. This book is written in an experimental style, reminding me of Slumdog Millionaire, A Wrinkle in Time (which is mentioned in the book many times) and The Time Traveler's Wife. The book is not told in chronological time, the chapter headings are "things that..." and the writing is amazing, the timing wonderful. As I listened to the first disc, I thought, how could I have not wanted to read this book? But as things got a little scary (I am, above all, a reading wimp) I wrote a note to one of my Twitter friends, merely plaintively asking, "but does it end well?" She assured me that it did, and that got me through the hard times, kept me listening. I listened to most of it for a second time. Which is helpful to do, and I recommend, as some things become clearer after you know the ending. You note I say most of it I listened to a second time, not all, and here is why: my car CD-player has this horrible quality of gumming up when the heat/humidity changes. In the winter, I can fix it by restarting the car. In the summer, I have to wait for the car to cool down, so I can listen to audio books on the way to work, (in the morning, when it is cool) maybe. On the way home, maybe. When I'm a little more solvent financially, I'll get a new radio/CD player installed.

What books are you reading/not reading this month?

What Sunday is for, n'at

So I woke up at 8:30, turned off the TV which had been broadcasting SATC-TM all night, via my DVD player.

I rolled over, had a dream about being in retail, only I had my current boss, and it was 10:30. Yikes! I so rarely sleep in.

I didn't really have breakfast in the house, so I hemmed and hawed and finally decided to go to Whole Foods, where they make omelets on Sundays. As I pulled up to the light right before WF, the crowd was too much, so I decided to head West? towards Negley. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to Gullifties...and as I crossed over the East Busway, I decided to turn left on Ellesworth. The Elbow Room, but of course!

I would write more, but I must off to the movies. Doubt is playing at 2:20. If I went to see 7 pounds, I'd be late for church tonight, so it will have to wait.

More to come...I went shopping. Pictures, maybe...

My Sunday morning...

So, it's your favorite (or not so favorite) thirty-something moderately depressed blogger.

tap, tap, is this thing on?

I wake up, knowing it must be light outside because the covers are over my head and it's bright, even under the covers.

Knowing it's not the best route to better mental health, I come to check my email. Ah, Facebook has Valentine's Cards. You know, I knew that already. Oh, and my Verizon bill is online. Thanks. Isn't that more of a "Monday morning" email? This electronic life takes away "days of the week, time of day."

And that was over 2 hours ago.

Since then, I have visited Babs, who is still blogging with a bun in the oven (she's still the mother of 3+1), Daysgoby (who won an award, twice!), and Badger, whose daughter talks mile-a-minute when she's happy. I wasn't able to be chipper about this, since it reminded me of what I'm like when I'm manic. (I'm not saying she's manic.) (I am WAY too in my head these days. It creates problems.) I posted a comment in response to someone's comment and browsed old posts on my other blog and went over to Newlywifed, who promises this will be the last post about breastfeeding. I don't comment.

I decide it's about time to eat something, so I have a breakfast drink, and decide to find a movie to watch this afternoon. We're having a "community meeting about covenant membership" at the OD at 4, so I have to go an early show. Sis has been trying to get to Atonement and I thought, yes, that's what I'll go see. Until I read the review on Yahoo! Movies and a few user reviews. Plus, the movie is 2 hours long...so I moved on. There will be Blood, no. First Sunday, no. I must have gone through all the movies that are on tap at my favorite movie house (I've seen 3, 1 is horror, 1 is Rambo, No!, two are the ones I just vetoed...) So I move on.

Persepolis catches my eye. So I click on it, read the review, read some user reviews (wowsa, there are some angry folks!), go to CT Movies, go to Rotten Tomatoes. So At 12:35 I'll be at the Manor on Murray Ave. It's 32 degrees Fahrenheit, so I'll have to get there early enough to spend ten minutes getting my key out of the ignition since Squirrel Hill isn't too far away but too far to walk and Sunday buses are notoriously slow and infrequent. Hmm, maybe I'll get lunch at Gullifties and maybe I'll go to Fox Books...

So at 10:44, I think, hmm, I could take a shower and give myself a book budget and go browse in a bookstore. When was the last time I did THAT? (For a librarian, it's a bit of a busman's holiday.) And I could have lunch at Brueggers, which would be cheaper than Gullifties. Oooh, and I could go get Winter White Chocolate at 31 Flavas...

It's been awhile since I've gone on a date with me and my city. (Hopefully I'll do better than Carrie in Anchor's Away) Yesterday as we walked out of work (we all walk out together when the library closes at 5 on Saturdays), someone said, Spring is coming and I said, "there's no rush..." and so someone and I had a conversation about how I have no family ties in Pittsburgh, if I didn't like the weather, I could get a job somewhere warmer.

Because the weather is one of the things I like about this crazy town. I know. (I'm a winter girl--which makes me miss Max, who is too. He likes how you can see further in the winter because the leaves are gone.) (Um, Max is a winter boy.)

Lent starts on Wednesday--I can hardly believe it! Which means Easter is egad! In March! So I better start planning my trip to South Carolina...

And since now my brain is about to explode and the movie is about an hour and a half away, I think I'll go take that shower.

Thanks for tuning in. (Or not.)

Books I'm reading:

• Blink by Malcolm Gladwell--for the library's book group Tuesday. It's a re-read for me. (It's NOT self help, even though the subtitle makes it sound like it is.)
• 3 Weddings and a Giggle (finished the first novella last night.) (Also a re-read)
• Prayer: does it make any difference? by Phillip Yancey. Phil is always so DOWN TO EARTH. I like that he's also a little grumpy.
  
• Getting Dumped...and getting over it. (this was a discard at our library and it caught my eye in the recycling bin. I read through it before bed and it was quite insightful. I underlined it like crazy, took quizzes and realized I'm NOT ready to talk to Max yet. I'll be re-reading this.)

Well, off to wash hair n'at.

Insomnia, thy name is...

Would you believe for the SECOND day in a row I screwed up my meds? You better believe I have them set out correctly and in their holder already for tomorrow morning. I even (gasp!) have clothes set out--I honestly cannot remember the last time I did that.

My mom may or may not call me at 7am--either way, my alarm is set, and I warned her that I'd call her if she didn't call me (my dad is still in NYC, no word on how the trial went.)

I started at dinner and finished just now a book called These Boots Weren't Made For Walking. Which was a fun romp and actually my only bone to pick is why in all the Christian romance novels the guys who start out as Christian are geeky, or cheaters, or boring, and the girl always ends up with the scruffy guy who wasn't a Christian at the beginning of the book, but is now? And the end was a little too over the edge, but romantic, yes.

Is it any wonder those of us Christian gals that are still single risk the risk of dating non-Christians? (Not that I base my life on Christian romance novels, but...I've been reading Grace Livingston Hill since high school.)

What happened to the robust Christian man? I still haven't finished Why men hate going to church, but the fact that such a book (which is full of well backed research and was written by a layman, not an author looking for a cute idea.)

WSJ is not easy to find online, but here's an excerpt from an article my dad emailed me (WEEKEND JOURNAL; Taste -- de gustibus -- Elaine and Puddy: A MatchMade on Earth by Naomi Schaefer Riley, Wall Street Journal: September 14, 2007):

For evangelicals who want to pair up with others of the same faith butdon't
manage to do so in their early 20s, trouble lies ahead,particularly for women.
Evangelical churches now typically have a 60-40 split between women and men,
which means that there are many moresingle evangelical women out there than
their male counterparts. AsMs. Cockrel explains, "I have friends who wanted to
marry a Christianguy, are still single, and are more and more open to dating
non-Christians as they get older. They're tired of waiting."

Oh anyways. I'm going to put in some M*A*S*H and hope it lulls me to sleep. Or maybe something less engaging. Anyways, I need sleep. I hope to find SOMETHING that will get me there.

I have an appointment with a lawyer on Monday to see if I can get somewhere with the car fiasco.

It's raining here. Before that, it was windy windy windy.

My bosses both were boosts in the arm today, M with her wisdom concerning "call the lawyer--don't bother calling the dealership again!" and E with my year end review--I was pleased to see where I got 3's (Exceeds Standards). M also passed on a nugget that someone else might have passed on but I didn't catch until today: Max's decision to break up with me the day of his surgery might have had more to do with the fact that he realized things would come up that he couldn't protect me from, and/or things would come up that I couldn't protect him from. So he pulled away to protect us both. Which makes sense. And since I doubt highly Mr. First Floor will ever speak to me again (oh, yes, the drama queen emerges), this seems the most beautiful way of putting it, and it makes sense, based on the information I know about us and about me and about how him and how we both acted in the relationship.

*sigh*

and there was much rejoicing...

No, I didn't get a car. I just got the news that the most recent one I heard about is about $2-3K out of my range. (But it was nice of my friend to ask his dad about it for me...)

The rejoicing is about my new (not just new to me, but actually new) VCR/DVD player combo that works! I had to get a RF modulator at Radio Shack and then I had to CALL Radio Shack for instructions on how to make it work, but hey, it works now!

I'm ready for a nap, dinner, or something...

Oh, and NH Sally and I looked at my budget. Tight times are here. It's not pretty, but I have to cut out stuff so that I can squeeze in a car payment. (Meanwhile, I need to find TIME to look for one...)

I think it must be time for Veggie Taa-a-aa-a-aa-a-aa-a-ales! (NH Sally lent me the one with Esther.)

*************

Am watching Monsters Inc. How I adore that movie!!

Type C?

Bellezza is a blogger that I met because I posted about my favorite book about friendship, A Bargain for Frances. I had a few extra copies that I had gotten at the Fox Books Bargain Bin and so I (after many months, so imperfect am I!) sent her one. She sent me the audio version of Jacob have I loved. Blog love--it's the best!

So I borrow from her for today's post.

So this post is based on her post on perfection (Impossibly Perfect):

An earlier commenter answered with this,

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.
-2 Corinthians 11:30 (I have linked the Message translation. The verse is ACTUALLY 2 Cor 12:9, but Grace's mistake got me to searching around in Biblegateway.com and actually pulling out my own tattered Bible.)

and then I chimed in.

I love that verse. It (and your post) reminds me of a verse from a song "our weaknesses become his opportunities."

I want to do it (whatever "it" is) perfect too. Few people know that about me because I give off the "Type B" aura--but my one boss has seen it in me, and I am forever grateful.

(Type B'ers are often Type A's that have seen so much imperfection in themselves that they've pretended that they've given up trying.) Maybe we should try to be Christ's Type, since HE is the Alpha and the Omega.

Working these things out alongside you,

Sarah Louise

It has taken me until this, my 35th year, to realize what my "thorn" is. (No, it's not bipolar disorder, more on THAT below.) I HAVE asked for both of these to be taken away, but...(see above.)

So a few more: "I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight." (Isaiah 45:2)

And my favorite favorite song:

Okay, in searching for it, I found this. Which is a good detour on the way to where I'm trying to go.

[from my post about the PA Library Association Conference last fall] Yesterday it was very interesting riding the bus back to the hotel (the Rachel Simon talk was at Heinz Field--y'know, where the Stillers play!!). You could tell which women (we're librarians--we're 95% women) understood Rachel's message and which women hadn't had a situation where they were faced with a disability in someone they loved.

Bipolar isn't labeled a disability, it's a disorder. And I pretty much function like anyone else. I have an exuberent loud laugh, I enjoy life, and sometimes I get deep into the pit of the muck of my life. On the surface, I'm fine. And yet, those that know me, know that my life is hard. Harder because I have to take meds four times a day. Harder because I need to see my therapist every week. Harder because I have to deal with these inner mood swings. Harder because when I see someone who is hurting, I want to help them so badly because I know what it's like.

Rachel (Simon, author of Riding the bus with my sister) talked about "curism" and how a lot of folks in the disabled world hated Christopher Reeves before his death because he was so hooked on getting a cure. (They didn't so much hate him after he died.) But how his relentless search for a cure--well, some of us know that we are better people for the broken places. We are more sensitive to others with disabilities or disorders. We understand the human condition just a little differently than someone who doesn't have a disability or disorder. If someone could cure me of bipolar disorder, I'm not sure I'd take that cure. I have developed a social network because I am one of those lucky people that need people. When I hit my hard roads when the future is bleak, I have to look at my life and see where the patchwork has unravelled. I don't know that I would work that hard at my life if I didn't have the mood swings to manage. Rachel shared a wonderful phrase that I'll share with you: she is a woman who happens to have...as if it was one of a myriad of qualities. Which it is. I am a woman who happens to love pink. I am a woman who happens to love country music. I am a woman who happens to love the city of Pittsburgh. I am also a woman who happens to have bipolar disorder.

Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

(Rascal Flatts, God Bless the Broken Road) [end of post on PALA]

I've been thinking about broken roads.

Pittsburgh sidewalks are a bit like that. Broken, they trip you up. Okay, I don't know where I'm going with that. For another time....

"Thank you for making this occasion necessary" (Yogi Bera)

Happy Father's Day! Google has done up one of their doodles again. It's early -- well, not really, but I've only been awake for a half hour and so my voice had frogs in it when I wished Pa a happy day.

Father's Day grew out of some lady hearing a Mother's Day sermon. So she worked to get a day for Dads. Father's Day is also the highest netting "retail holiday" besides Christmas. It makes sense -- for Valentine's, most folks buy chocolate, for Mother's Day you can get away with a dishtowel, but dear old dad invariably gets golf clubs* or at least a coffee table book on Augusta.* (And those go for like $40 a pop) (pop, get it...) Also, Dads aren't as good at that thing Moms always do, "pshaw, I don't need a thing." Erin over at Biscotti Brain has a great idea if you're shopping for "the man who has everything and then some" or you just want to make your gift more meaningful.

Speaking of golf*, Pittsburgh is (I speak on behalf of the city) pleased as punch to be hosting the US Open at Oakmont.*

*This is the one and probably only time you'll EVER hear me talk about golf more than once in a post or in a post EVER, so I had to cram it all in.

(About the quote: my dad is forever quoting Yogi Bera--yours too? This year he has amended his usual, "You were the one that made me a Daddy" to something like "I wouldn't have been a Daddy so soon if it weren't for you." I think the first one is more literary, but real people resist editing, and surely he has his reasons for changing his tagline -- maybe that he has two other lovely children... I love you Daddy!)

signed,

His #1.