Title This! (or, yes, I am a complete and total nerd)

Today I went in search of “happy” news after a friend shared a number of news stories about kids dying or killing themselves. (And, honestly, who wouldn’t need a pick-me-up after that? There is a reason I don’t watch the nightly news.) During this quest, I stumbled across the following article about the winner of the “Oddest Book Title” contest. I love the fact that such a contest exists; it amuses me almost as much as the titles that won (my favorite came in fifth: Governing Lethal Behavior in Autonomous Robots). It reminds me of the time that my friend and former college roommate and I created a faux anthology of “stories” that was really just a list of the fun and crazy titles, because we never got around to writing the stories. As a writer I have always loved titles. I won’t judge a book by its cover, but I will judge it by its title. And I hate when a title is more intriguing than the book itself. A few years ago I was disappointed to learn that marketing departments often title books rather than writers…and I stopped picking up interestingly titled novels without in-depth perusals. It also saddened me because I've always titled my stories before writing them. I can't work on a story if it doesn't have a title. It might change, but I have to title it. When I was in school, I titled just about anything I wrote on note paper. After all, there's that huge space at the top of each page that practically screams "Title Me!" One of my biggest pet peeves with art and poetry is when someone calls a piece "Untitled." Why should I spend time looking at something and trying to figure it out if you couldn't even be bothered to title the damn thing in the first place?


The lesson: Titles rock. And if it's odd enough, you could win a prize!

Jaxx Recommends...a funny movie with a unique ending

::::SPOILER ALERT::::

Finally, a movie in which the girl does not change herself to get the guy: All About Steve. This movie surprised me on many fronts.

First, the crossword puzzle theme. I love crossword puzzles, though I will never be as good at them as my mother. Mary is a crucioverbalist (crossword puzzle creator) and it infiltrates every aspect of her life. I will admit that towards the beginning I almost wanted to mute the movie at times because she really would not shut up. Which was exactly what the other characters in the movie felt, too. So it worked. In very small doses.

"If life is like a crossword puzzle, then its worth, its greatness should be judged in the same way. Is it solvable? Is it entertaining? Does it sparkle?"

Second, that it is not actually a romcom because it doesn't culminate in a relationship (I was wondering in the beginning how these two would become reconciled). It was hard to tell from the previews, and I wondered briefly if Mary might not end up with the TV reporter Hughes who was encouraging her to stalk Steve (his cameraman), but in the end I thought it was better they didn't. Though, it would also have been nice to see a girl not change herself and still get the guy.

Mary Horowitz wisdom:
"If you love someone, set him free. If you have to stalk him, he probably wasn't yours in the first place."

The final surprise was my favorite, Mary Horowitz does not change herself. She does not: get a makeover; stop talking too much; or give up wearing her screaming red fashion faux pas boots. Instead she realizes that it's okay to be unique and that she doesn't need to have a boyfriend to be complete. And though she may not get the guy, she gets friends and finds somewhere she belongs and I think it's high time that was celebrated.

"New York Times crossword editor Will Shortz says we have a natural compulsion to fill empty spaces. I like to think he means not just crosswords, but the empty spaces inside of us that come from making your way in a world that doesn't always embrace unique. I tried to fill my empty spaces with words, and puzzles, and Steve. But that's wasn't the answer. Now I know. On the journey of life, just find someone as normal as you. If not a whole bunch."

All quotes are spoken by Sandra Bullock as Mary Horowitz in All About Steve.

For Shame!

Between the hectic chaos of application deadlines and the holidays, I've been remiss in posting. I'm going to try and be better about that and about working on my novels now that I've entered waiting room limbo. As deadlines pass, I'm struck with paranoia that I've somehow forgotten some vital part of my applications and none of them will be considered. But I've double and triple checked, so this is patently false (I hope!).

Super Short Sum-Up:

My team let me down in the Big 12 Championship, but coming within 1 point and 1 second of beating the 3rd ranked team when you're only ranked 21 is pretty damn good in my opinion. Plus, everyone who scoffed at me for wanting to see Colt McCoy face Ndamukong Suh had to eat their words. And Suh kept McCoy from winning the Heisman, which made me perversely happy, especially with the incredibly rude and smug behavior of the Texas fans after the game.

The pinnacle of the night was the elevator ride after the game. We piled in with all Husker fans and who should get on at the next floor but TOM OSBORNE. TOM OSBORNE and his wife stood RIGHT NEXT to me in the elevator. I wanted to pull out my phone and snap a picture, but he looked heartbroken and I didn't want to be that fan. So instead I stood perfectly still and silent, while inside I was jumping up and down, shrieking in glee and cartwheeling (because the only place I can cartwheel without killing myself is in my mind): "I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!
I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!"
If you don't know who Tom Osborne is (and shame on anyone who doesn't), he is the GOD of Nebraska football. He lead us to three National Championships in the 90s and retired two years before I went to college at UNL. And I rode in an elevator with him!

Christmas was spent in Lincoln. Snowed in. Visiting my grama in the hospital every day. Possibly my least favorite way of spending the holiday. Though better than the last time we had to as my grama was merely recovering from surgery, not battling against cancer like my grampa. The good news: I still remember how to drive in over a foot of snow. The bad news: hospital food instead of a homemade Christmas dinner.

I picked up a cold just in time for my ten-hour drive home, which turned into a 12 hour drive home thanks to a traffic slowdown that caused me to spend an hour crossing the Oklahoma/Kansas border, which put me in OK City during rush hour.

New Year's was great. A vast improvement on last year's Bridget Jones-esque celebration. Friends, food, fun and exploding bottles of champagne.

It was followed by cold recovery, shopping and Sherlock Holmes (FAB-U-LOUS--except for that evil cliffhanger ending!).

In the midst of which God decided that as the rains this fall didn't succeed in washing Dallas off the map and the snow at Christmas didn't bury us, that he would FREEZE us out of existence. Last weekend saw the coldest temperatures Dallas has experienced in twenty years. A good 25-30 degrees below normal. So I stayed inside all weekend because temperatures in the single digits are only acceptable in Nebraska or other northern parts. I didn't move south so that I could continue to freeze my ass off. Apparently I'll have to move to Tahiti to return warmth to my hands and other extremities.

And that brings us to the present day. And a weekend that promises going out with friends and marathons of Psych and How I Met Your Mother (as I just got the most recent seasons in the mail from Amazon this week).

I hope your holidays were warmer and merrier than mine. One thing I do know: It won't take much for 2010 to be a better year than 2009. I just wish it was April already.

Today's Migraine is Brought to You by the Following Sponsors

The 700-page Manuscript accompanying the 300-page book-to-be. A beast of a proofreading project that landed on my desk this morning only an hour before I found out that I'd be filling in for one of my co-workers who was out sick (about 15 minutes before the meeting I had to run in her stead took place). So instead of buckling down and getting a jumpstart on the project, I had a day filled with delays and interruptions (and the only slightly dissipated paint fumes from yesterday). Part of me is hoping for a snow day tomorrow so that I can work on it from home instead. And I found out that I have to complete the 69 hours of proofreading on before next Wednesday (which is complicated by the fact that our office Christmas party is Tuesday afternoon).

And the 75-minute, three-plus accident obstacle course (otherwise known as my usually 25-minute commute home). First, the major street I take to the interstate is down to one northbound lane because of what seemed to be a party of cops and firetrucks and one injured car. After I clear that hurdle, an idiot decides to change lanes while driving next to me and nearly knocks me off the road. Then, 635 was literally a parking lot. It look me twenty minutes to go one mile to the first exit ramp on my side of town. I get off the interstate to find that someone has apparently knocked out the signal (flashing lights and four-way stops are never a good combination) on the north side of the bridge. So I have to go back west on the frontage road to the last major road that goes north, which of course does not connect to the eastbound road I had planned on taking home, so I have to go an extra mile north before I can finally get back east again. All of this appears to have been caused by the fact that the meteorologists predicted that there MIGHT be a slight CHANCE of snow TOMORROW. Which is only scary to me because apparently nobody in Texas can drive when there's not a bloody cloud in the whole freaking sky. (And the sun hadn't even gone down yet, either.)

The one ray of sun in my day: I turned on my blinker to move to the far right lane on the interstate, fully expecting it would be at least a mile before I'd be able to actually get over, and the guy next to me signals for me to roll down my window. Curious, I do. [[It is important to note here that I recently acquired a Nebraska Alumni license plate frame and decal for my car. And the following song is stuck in my head: "All I wanna do is to thank you, even though I don't know who you are. You let me change lanes while I was driving in my car."]] The guy tells me that he was an '87 Husker and that he'll gladly let me go in front of him. I respond that he's "awesome" and quickly move over. I look forward to sharing that particular story with my Texas-loving grandad who predicted that if I put pro-Nebraska stuff on my car down here, it would end up vandalized. So in preparation for Saturday:

HUSKERS UNITE!

Follow-up Note: I've decided that Thai food is by far the best cure for a migraine. Though caffeine comes in a close second.

My Favorite Time of Year

The past four days have been quintessentially perfect fall days. Brilliant blue skies. No clouds. A light breeze. It feels crisp outside. Like the first time you crack open a brand-new book. There's something special about it. So cheering. Like maybe there's something right with the world. I have to open my moonroof and roll down the windows on my commute home. The perfect weather for a bowl of chili, a beer and a good game of football. Yesterday I got two out of three. My beloved team is breaking my heart. This is not unusual. I grew up during the era of amazing Nebraska football and it was so difficult to watch them play under Solich and Callahan while I was in school there. But I've stood by them through all of that. And I continue to stand by them; I am a husker through and through. But that doesn't mean I like them very much right now. They've let me down yet again. Whenever I start to think, "Hey we're good again!" They have a game like yesterday. And I want to shake them. And I ask myself why do I care? Why do I let myself care so much? Why can't I stop watching and caring about college football? Possibly for the same reason I can't completely right off my attempts to find a boyfriend. Despite the mountain of evidence from my past experiences that boys are unreliable and just cause trouble, I continue to search for "the one." In the past few months, my single friends have been increasingly getting boyfriends and it's making me feel more and more like a crazy old spinster. Except that I don't even have a cat (Allergic!) or dog for companionship.
In the meantime, I'm hoping for more beautiful fall days; I've had enough rain to last me for quite awhile.

Another Book List for Shits and Giggles

A friend sent me a link to NPR'S "Audience Picks: 100 Best Beach Books" and I wanted to see how many I've already read. (And remind myself of books to which I still need to get.) There are quite a number that I want to read or already have in my "To Read" stack (which takes up a couple of bookshelves in my apartment, sadly).
(color guide: read, own, want to read)

1. The Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling
2. To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
3. The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
4. Bridget Jones's Diary, by Helen Fielding
5. Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
6. Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, by Rebecca Wells
7. The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
8. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams
9. Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, by Fannie Flagg
10. The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver

11. The Time Traveler's Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger
12. Life of Pi, by Yann Martel
13. The Joy Luck Club, by Amy Tan
14. The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
15. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
16. Gone with the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell
17. Bel Canto, by Ann Patchett
18. The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien
19. Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides
20. Water for Elephants, by Sara Gruen
21. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
22. The Bean Trees, by Barbara Kingsolver
23. The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, by Alexander McCall Smith
24. The World According to Garp, by John Irving
25. Catch-22, by Joseph Heller
26. The Prince of Tides, by Pat Conroy
27. Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel
28. The Princess Bride, by William Goldman
29. The Accidental Tourist, by Anne Tyler
30. Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer
31. A Confederacy of Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole
32. East of Eden, by John Steinbeck
33. The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant
34. Beach Music, by Pat Conroy
35. One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
36. Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier
37. Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card
38. Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry
39. The Thorn Birds, by Colleen McCullough
40. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, by Michael Chabon

41. Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett
42. Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
43. Interview with the Vampire, by Anne Rice
44. Cold Mountain, by Charles Frazier
45. Empire Falls, by Richard Russo
46. Under the Tuscan Sun, by Frances Mayes
47. The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas
48. Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, by Tom Robbins
49. I Know This Much Is True, by Wally Lamb
50. Murder on the Orient Express, by Agatha Christie
51. Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
52. The Stand, by Stephen King
53. She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb
54. Dune, by Frank Herbert
55. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Barrows
56. Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
57. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll
58. Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov
59. The Godfather, by Mario Puzo
60. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith
61. Animal Dreams, by Barbara Kingsolver
62. Jaws, by Peter Benchley
63. Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner
64. Angle of Repose, by Wallace Stegner
65. Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson
66. The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway
67. The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand
68. Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut
69. Cat's Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
70. The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler
71. The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway
72. The Hunt for Red October, by Tom Clancy
73. Cold Sassy Tree, by Olive Ann Burns
74. The Lord of the Flies, by William Golding
74. Bonfire of the Vanities, by Tom Wolfe [tie]
76. Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte
77. Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon
78. The Shell Seekers, by Rosamunde Pilcher
79. Prodigal Summer, by Barbara Kingsolver
80. Eye of the Needle, by Ken Follett
81. Cannery Row, by John Steinbeck
81. The Pilot's Wife, by Anita Shreve [tie]
83. All the Pretty Horses, by Cormac McCarthy
84. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson
85. The Little Prince, by Antoine De Saint-Exupery
86. The Road, by Cormac McCarthy
87. One for the Money, by Janet Evanovich
88. Shogun, by James Clavell
89. Dracula, by Bram Stoker
90. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, by Milan Kundera
91. Presumed Innocent, by Scott Turow
92. Franny and Zooey, by J.D. Salinger
93. The Secret History, by Donna Tartt
94. Dead Until Dark, by Charlaine Harris
95. Summer Sisters, by Judy Blume
96. The Shining, by Stephen King
97. How Stella Got Her Groove Back, by Terry McMillan
98. Lamb, by Christopher Moore
99. Sick Puppy, by Carl Hiaasen
100. Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson

Apparently, My Friend Is God (or, biblical history repeats itself)

My friend and I were discussing (some might say arguing) the other day about links she threatened to send me. It all goes back a few years ago when she sent me a link to some comics and said, "By the way, don't read the first one on that page. It is the most disturbing thing I've ever read." Well, of course, I immediately wanted to know what would could possibly be that bad. So I read it. And, quite predictably, I responded with, "GAH!!!! How could you possibly send me that?!?!?" To which my friend said, "I told you not to read that." Which, I was forced to concede, was true.
Anyways, so when my friend says the other day that she found another link in the same forum that that link had come from, I automatically responded with "NO! Don't EVEN send me anything like that again." And she tried to convince me that a) it wasn't anything that bad and b) it was my fault for looking at it the first time. So I brought up the story of Eve from Genesis to explain why it was HER fault because she told me not to read it, so of course I had to read it. I was all like, see, you are like the serpent tempting me with this apple that I'm not supposed to eat by telling me all the reasons I shouldn't. And she pointed out that actually God was the one who told Eve she shouldn't eat the apple from the Tree of Knowledge. Which of course lead to her conclusion: "I'm like f***ing God in that story." (A dangerous concept all on it's own and the whole reason that I had to write this post. Because I had to use that as a title.) And I am unable to resist my curiousity. But I learned my lesson. If my friend says something is disturbing, I now trust her on it. Never again will I question what could possibly be that bad. So history may repeat itself, but hopefully we learn something at least from our own.

Nash Always Makes Me Smile

My mom's favorite poet is Ogden Nash and so it is no surprise that he was one of the first poets I remember reading (along with Edgar Allen Poe). Sylvia Plath said, "There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." I think the same is true of poetry. At least for me. So tonight I have been skimming my poetry books and reading Ogden Nash and Dorothy Parker and I had to share.

from Laments for a Dying Language by Odgen Nash
(It seemed to appropriate after my last post.)

V
Coin brassy words at will, debase the coinage;
We're in an if-you-cannot-lick-them-join age,
A slovenliness-provides-its-own-excuse age,
Where usage overnight condones misusage.
Farewell, farewell to my beloved language,
Once English, now a vile orangutanguage.

I love the fact that this next poem is written by a man, about men. Ha!
The Trouble with Women is Men

A husband is a man who two minutes after his head touches the pillow is snoring like an overloaded omnibus,
Particularly on those occasions when between the humidity and the mosquitoes your own bed is no longer a bed but an insomnibus,
And if you turn on the light for a little reading he is sensitive to the faintest gleam,
But if by chance you are asleep and he wakeful, he is not slow to rouse you with the complaint that he can't close his eyes, what about slipping downstairs and freezing him a cooling dish of pistachio ice cream.
His touch with a bottle opener is sure,
But he cannot help you get a tight dress over your head without catching three hooks and a button in your coiffure.
Nor can he so much as wash his ears without leaving an inch of water on the bathroom linoleum,
But if you mention it you evoke not a promise to splash no more but a mood of deep melancholium.
Indeed, each time he transgresses your chance of correcting his faults grows lesser,
Because he produces either a maddeningly logical explanation or a look of martyrdom which leaves you instead of him feeling the remorse of the transgressor.
Such are husbandly foibles, but there are moments when a foible ceases to be a foible.
Next time you ask for a glass of water and when he brings it you have a needle almost threaded and instead of setting it down he stands there holding it out to you, just kick him fairly hard in the stomach, you will find it thoroughly enjoible.

And I'll go out with one of my favorite Dorothy Parker verses:
Resume

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

I'd always pondered the meaning of the title. I've now decided that it's because after nine months of sending out resumes to everyone and anyone, one has to be reminded of why not to commit suicide.

Shame on You, Kanye West

I came across a blog post talking about Kanye West's pride at being a non-reader and had to look up the article for myself, despite the fact that I knew it would only make me unhappy. I was reminiscing just a week ago with Citizen B on how Reading Rainbow was one of our favorite TV shows growing up. I think it is horrible that kids now have nothing like that and instead the people who do influence them say things like the following: "Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed. I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book's autograph." (Kanye West, Reuters.com) He also said that being a non-reader and a college drop-out gave his writing (he just published a "book", by the by, but make sure you don't read it because he wouldn't approve--not that it's a real book, though it may have a cover and pages bound together) a "child-like purity." I would like to point out that sounding like an illiterate idiot is not "purity." It's just flaunting your ignorance and trying to paint it in a positive light. How could any respectable publishing company publish a book by someone who tells people they shouldn't read books? And, Kanye, books can't give autographs and even if they could, I'm sure none would be fans of you either. As a writer, it astounds me the crap that not only gets published, but that people actually pay good money for. And it saddens me because it only serves to lower the value our society places on the ability to read and write well. It is an important tool, no matter what some "celebrities" may say. And I've always believed that if one is too lazy to say something properly, it shows a complete and total disrespect for the person to whom you are talking or writing. It says that you don't give a damn if they can understand you properly. Writing is an ART. And you canNOT write if you don't READ. Reading is the key to success of every kind. If you cannot read, then you cannot manage a corporation; you cannot sign contracts; you cannot communicate effectively with anyone. A world in which people are encouraged to be ignorant and illiterate is not a world in which I wish to live. My favorite bookstore growing up had the best slogan on their bags: "One reader is worth a thousand boneheads." Congratulations, Kanye, you're officially one of the boneheads.

Wedding Bell Blues and the Limbo Life

The problem with weddings is that they remind me of how chronically single I am. I don't much care for casual dating (and my go at it last August definitely didn't make me want change my mind) and I've found that while I like going to bars and can't imagine dating a guy who didn't like them as well, I don't like the guys I meet there. I'm not saying I'm not happy for my friend. Her wedding was beautiful; her husband was charming and everything one could want. Actually it wasn't so much the wedding as being there with my parents, my sister and her boyfriend. I felt like a fifth wheel, especially as the only other people I knew were the bride's family. We knew each other growing up, but our families moved so we didn't go to high school together. It also makes me feel more and more like I'm doomed to be an old maid as I go to weddings of friends who are younger than me. I'm just glad that my younger sister isn't ready for that yet. Not that it really matters as she and her boyfriend have been together forever. And so I'm stuck wondering what I'm doing wrong that I seem to be the only one who isn't coupling off as if ordained by some godlike force. It's not like I'm against marriage. But where is one supposed to meet anyone worth dating? And it's hard to even contemplate dealing with that when I don't even know where or how I'm going to be living at the end of the summer. Part of me thinks perhaps leaving Dallas is the right thing to do. But then I remember how long it took me to find friends and how much I love the friends I have here. I've never had a hometown. And I hated having to leave my friends behind when I moved from Kansas to Iowa between 7th and 8th grade. If I could take them all with me, then I would move anywhere. But that's not possible. And it makes me wish even more that I had a husband. Because then it doesn't matter where you move as long as you move together. You always know at least one person, no matter where you go. Although my friend who got married last week is going to spend the next six months on her own while her husband finishes his army training, which just goes to show that life is never easy for anyone. We all have challenges that we must face. And we have to be strong enough to face them even if it's on our own. Which sounds so trite and stupid. Just like everybody keeps telling me "Everything happens for a reason." And that when it's the right job and what I'm meant to be doing, it'll all work out. But with more rejection piling up on me each week, and emails informing me that more qualified candidates were chosen for jobs that I was amply qualified for, I despair of anything working itself out. Because I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm simply competing with people who I should never have to compete with in a normal economy for near-entry-level jobs that I shouldn't have any problems getting. I'd feel bad for the new college grads if my life didn't suck so much that I can't spare any pity for anyone else. At least none of them have been unemployed for 9 months. I don't know what I'm supposed to do until I manage to get into grad school (even if I apply this fall and by some miracle get accepted, I still have to find a way to live for the next 16 months or so and there's no way I can work as a retail slut for that long; I'll lose my mind). I'm living in limbo and I'm not talking a fun game to play at parties. I can't get a job; I can't get a guy; and I can't make any plans with anyone. I had to miss my favorite cousin's graduation this weekend to boot. It is the icing on top of a cake of life sucks. Black licorice-flavored icing on a cake in which the sugar was replaced with salt, the outer ring is dry and the inside isn't baked all the way through.

Entitlement and Epiphany

Yesterday, my younger sister told me she was proud of me and how I'm handling all the shit life's been throwing at me. That meant more to me than I could even explain, especially since I've been feeling like the worst failure ever. She also said that she'd finally realized the value of how our parents raised us and I agreed with her completely. Growing up, we never got rewards for good grades or good behavior. It was a standard that was simply expected of us. As a result, she and I have never felt like we should be entitled to things. We've known that if you want something, you have to work for it. When I wanted to get special toys, I had to save my allowance for months to buy them. But I don't mind that because they meant more that way. My sister was complaining about someone she knows who doesn't have a job because she "doesn't want to work" and yet goes out and buys expensive cars and eats out every night because she feels like the world owes her that lifestyle. And she expects for other people (family and friends) to bail her out when she winds up in debt. It pissed my sister off to no end and I was in complete agreement with her. It's that sense of entitlement that brought about the economic depression we're in right now. And part of what is so annoying (to both of us) is that we're suffering from it, my sister will graduate in less than a year, possibly six months and have to compete with mid-level career job seekers for entry-level positions, and yet, we didn't participate in the problems that brought this about. My mom passed along an article from the SF Gate today that tied right into this. It explains so well why my employers have always been impressed with my work ethic. I didn't understand at the time, because I just did what was asked and expected of me: I showed up on time; I worked whatever hours necessary; and I did what I was told to do. Like I said, that's how I was raised. A couple of years ago, one of my co-workers ran across a survey of college students about to graduate. The majority of them said they expected to be earning over $100K/year at their first job. And I laughed and said, well the real world will come as a slap to the face for them. But I'm learning that whether or not they're paid that, people are living as if that's what they make. It's especially prevalent in the area of Dallas that I live in. People drive expensive cars and rent expensive apartments that I just don't understand how they can possibly afford. Especially since I see them out in the middle of the day, walking their pedigree dogs in the park. What sucks the most is that despite the fact that I am not like those people, I can't get anyone to give me a chance. I can't get anyone to let me learn on the job. Today I had an interviewer reject me before even meeting me. And it hurts even more than the rejections that come without offering me a chance at all. Because they held out the candy to me and then just as I was reaching out for it, pulled it back and said, wait a minute, we don't want to share with you after all. I just want to SCREAM at the top of my lungs because I actually WANT to work my ass off (and I'm almost back to entry-level salary) but nobody will let me!

More Quotables from "Wild Words from Wild Women"

I got caught up on my daily calendar this week. Which always results in a plethora of quotes I feel obligated to share or at least document for my own future reference.

"My mother always said that a rose is the perfect symbol of romance. It dies after a few days, its pretty petals fall off, and all you're left with is the ugly prickly thing." - Maureen Murphy

"It is better to light just one candle than to clean the whole apartment." - Eileen Courtney

(Amen, sister. I definitely felt like this as I cleaned the kitchen today. It is the world's most futile task. As soon as I finish, it's time to eat again and all my work was for nothing.)

"Sex is more fun than cars, but cars refuel quicker than men." - Germaine Greer

"I have always wanted to be a man, if only for the reason that I would like to have gauged the value of my intellect." - Margot Asquith

"Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me." - Alice Walker

"You should always believe all you read in newspapers, as this makes them more interesting." - Rose Macaulay

(This made me think of Citizen B and her fabulous blog.)

"I don't buy temporary insanity as a murder defence. Breaking into someone's home and ironing all their clothes is temporary insanity." - Sue Kolinsky

"I feel not need for any other faith than my faith in human beings." - Pearl S. Buck

"Being a child is horrible. It is slightly better than being a tree or a piece of heavy machinery but not half as good as being a domestic cat." - Julie Burchill

(Personally, I think it's being a teenager that is horrible. I would have happily fast-forwarded through high school.)

"If men liked shopping, they'd call it research." - Cynthia Neims

Picturing Our Debt

This comes courtesy of my dad and with all the bailout, budget, deficit and bonus amounts getting tossed about in the news, I felt it was apropos and worth sharing.

What does a trillion dollars look like? Using Google Sketchup, here's an idea of what exactly that amounts to.

Let's start with a $100 dollar bill, currently the largest U.S. denomination in general circulation. Most everyone has seen one, slightly fewer have owned one. Guaranteed to make friends wherever it goes.

A packet of one hundred $100 bills is less than 1/2" thick and contains $10,000. It fits in your pocket easily and is more than enough for a week or two of shamefully decadent fun.

Believe it or not, this next little pile is $1 million dollars (100 packets of $10,000). You could stuff that into a grocery bag and walk around with it.

While a measly $1 million looks a little unimpressive, $100 million is a little more respectable. It fits neatly on a standard pallet.

And $1 BILLION dollars. Now we're really getting somewhere.

Next we'll look at ONE TRILLION dollars. This is that number you've been hearing so much about. What is a trillion dollars? Well, it's a million million. It's a thousand billion. It's a one followed by 12 zeros.

Notice those pallets are double stacked and remember those are $100 bills.

So the next time you hear someone toss around the phrase "trillion dollars," that's what they're talking about.

Something else to think about. On The Daily Show the other night, Jon Stewart and his guest economist, Peter Orszag, were discussing the projected deficit for the country. It was around $15 trillion over the next 10 years if we make cuts. So you have to take that last image and multiple it by 15. And you thought it was a horrifying sight by itself? Thank God my personal debt is still below the single pack of $10,000. Which is helped the fact that I have not had any fast food, bought any books, purchased alcohol or spent money going out more than one night a week since February 23rd. Unfortunately, while my friends who gave up things for lent get to start enjoying them again after Sunday, I have to keep up my budget crackdown because I need to limit how much I'm borrowing from my parents.

Happy April Fool's Day! (I love Pandas, too!)

The thing about April Fool's Day is that it's not nearly as much fun when you're grown up and living alone. My sister and I used to get a kick out of pulling pranks on our mom (for some reason, I don't recall us ever playing tricks on one another). There was the year we put a rubber band around the kitchen sink sprayer so that it sprayed her in the face when she switched the faucet on. Then there were the times I set my mom's alarm clock and watch backwards or forwards to confuse her in the morning. We also never pulled tricks on Dad. Mom was always the target. I think there was also an episode with an exchange of salt and sugar. And then, in college, I called her and told her I was eloping to vegas with a boy I met at the coffee shop that afternoon. Now that I'm living alone, there's no one to prank. Nothing to watch out for either. Anyways, because of this I especially enjoy Google's yearly jokes. It must be so much fun to work with such a creative group of people. If you haven't read about CADIE yet, you should. It's hilarious.

I encountered this quote the other day and it's exactly how writing is for me. Yet I'm compelled to keep at it.
"A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." - Thomas Mann

Greenville St. Patty's Parade

Yeah, I know I missed the day, but I had trouble getting the pictures to upload on my blog yesterday. So here they are, my fave pics from Saturday's parade. It was a definitely an experience. Though I learned that St. Patty's Celebrations are decidedly less fun when one is sober.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

My mother sent me a card (from mooning duck) with the following "prayer" and I just had to share it.

Our lager,
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink,
Thy kegdom come,
I fill thee mug,
At home, as in the tavern.
Give us this day, our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill upon us,
And lead us not into inebriation,
But deliver us from hangovers.
Barmen.

WE Makes Women Everywhere Look Bad

Saturday was a day of experiences. I'm going to save the St. Patty's Parade fun and pics for tomorrow (it seems more appropriate). Today I'm more interested in analyzing the so bad it's almost funny TV my friends and I got sucked into on Saturday night. WE has a new reality show, called Surprise Wedding. Its premise? Desperate women trick their boyfriends into coming on the show and then propose to them on TV and they're given an hour or so to decide whether or not they want to commit. That in and of itself is enough to send me screaming from the room. Add to it that these women are a) wearing some of the most HIDEOUS, TACKY gowns ever seen and b) spouting cliched cutesy crap like "Let's dive into the next chapter of our life together." (Not the exact quote, but one girl talked about diving, another talked about new chapters. It was all cringe-worthy.) But it's one of those shows that screams train wreck and you just can't help yourself. You must watch. (The America's Next Top Model marathons on Oxygen do this to me. I don't want to watch them, but they suck me in and the next thing I know, I'm hooked and I can't turn it off.) So we're watching the five women propose to their boyfriends (three of whom look decidedly frightened and one I thought would have certainly run from the stage if they hadn't had someone standing there to stop him) and betting which ones would say no. Because we were sure that someone would. Then we learn that none of these women (whose woe is me stories of their boyfriends' inabilities to commit were played earlier) have been with these men for more than two years. And suddenly, I'm all, WHOA, hold on. You cannot possibly be THAT desperate THAT soon. Seriously, I would think that being with a guy for less than two years before a proposal ought to be viewed as a NORMAL time period in which you get to know one another. And this show makes it out to be this incredibly long period of time. After a year and three months (the shortest of the relationships), you should NOT be so desperate to get married that you have to trick your boyfriend into getting married on TV in Vegas wearing a cheap, tacky dress that doesn't fit. And then, just when we thought this show couldn't possibly get any worse, they brought the men out and ALL OF THEM SAID YES. Seriously, what the fuck? Even the guy, who we're not sure, but it's quite possible he's gay and hasn't realized it yet, said yes (he was also the one who looked like he wanted to flee from the stage at the beginning). It totally ruined the show. I mean, we figured going in that at least one would have to say yes, but we also figured at least one would say no. And honestly, we (four girls) were rooting for the guys on this one. As one of my friends pointed out, this is a horrible example for girls out there. It says it's okay to lie and trick your boyfriend. It says that you should be desperate to get married before you really know someone very well. It says that this is an acceptable way to start out your life together. And it's not. Now, I'm waiting for a follow-up show, called Surprise Divorce, where the men bring the women back and announce they're leaving them. This is why I don't like WE. It's almost as bad as Lifetime. Now, if the show had been on Oxygen, the women would have all been with the guys for at least 5 years. The men would all be horrid commitment-phobes like Mr. Big from Sex and the City. Also, all of the men would say hell no. And then the women would throw hissy fits and tantrums, but if you checked up on them six months later, half of them would be back with the guys. Now that would be a show worth watching. As for Surprise Wedding, I won't be watching it again because it's only so bad it's funny if at least one guy says no. Otherwise, it's just a step backwards for women everywhere.

What's Your Book Number?

I'm bored at work today, so I decided to figure out my book number. I started by searching for lists of top 100 novels. The first I found was by the Modern Library. It is not listed here, nor will it ever be as it had only 10 novels written by women, of which there were only 5 or so different authors, and it did not have a single one of Jane Austen's books. So not only is it anti-women authors, but the people determining it obviously have no taste. Though I must admit, it probably shouldn't be so surprising that people who like 4 of Joseph Conrad's novels (including Heart of Darkness, which still tops my list of worst books ever written) cannot appreciate the genius and wit of Jane Austen. [Post Note: It has been brought to my attention that their list is limited to 20th century authors, a fact not mentioned on the page with the list I would like to point out. I still cannot agree with anyone who thinks Heart of Darkness is worth reading. And there are DEFINITELY more than 5 women authors worth mentioning from the 20th century. Many of the women authors I read in my modern literature classes were omitted.] Continued searching unearthed BBC's The Big Read which is much more to my liking. (I also found another list that is a bit more high brow, but I'll save that for later.) For now, my Book Number is 33/100. Not too shabby, considering I'm a bad English major (I love me some genre fiction, oh yes I do) and have an incredible dislike for much of the highly lauded literary canon. Anyway, so here's the interactive part of today's post: What's your book number?

Books I have read: 33
Books I have started to read: 4
Books I own but haven't read: 6
Books I have yet to read or buy: 54
Books I refuse to ever read: 3

1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck (I read The Red Pony and I refuse to ever read another book by Steinbeck. It was the most pointless book I've ever read.)
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie

Jaxx Recommends...Movies to Pick You Up When You're Feeling Down

You know those days. When nothing goes right and you just feel like nothing's worth it anymore or the whole world is stacked against you? Whether it's the mean reds or the blues, there's nothing like a good movie to make you feel better. At least, that's my philosophy. So here are my favorite movies when I feel in need of an emotional facelift (it's much less expensive and less painful than a physical one).

3. Pride and Prejudice: The A&E/BBC version with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. Not to be confused with the Keira Knightly version that simply cannot compare. I love this movie almost as much as I love the book and have it nearly memorized. If only life worked out as perfectly and justly as an Austen novel.

Favorite Quotes: "And to all this [traits that make a woman accomplished], she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading." - Mr. Darcy
"An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day, you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins. And I will never see you again if you do." - Mr. Bennett

2. Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium: This one is relatively new to my list, but since I picked it up for $5 the day I got laid off, it's become a staple in the Bad Day Movie Library. Before you scoff at me for picking what appears to be a kid's movie, check it out. Yes, the narrator is a kid and the story is set in a magic toy store, but the real main character of the story is Molly Mahoney, a twenty-something girl who is searching for herself and her destiny. See? In the midst of a kid's movie, they've stuck in the story of a girl going through a quarter-life crisis. Granted, there is a fair amount of magic involved in the resolution, but I find it inspiring and it always makes me feel better about myself. Plus, it's incredibly well-written and features Dustin Hoffman and Natalie Portman.

Favorite Quote: "What are we going to do without you?" "Run the store." "Sir, I don't know how." "That's why I gave you the Congreve Cube." "But it just sits there." "What have you done with it?" "I don't know what to do with it. It's a block of wood." "Can you think of nothing?" "Well, I'm sure I could think of a million things to do with it." "There are a million things one might do with a block of wood, but, Mahoney, what do you think might happen if someone just once...believed in it." "Sir, I don't understand." - Molly Mahoney and Mr. Magorium

1. Breakfast at Tiffany's: This is my all-time favorite go-to bad day movie. There's nothing in this world that a little dose of Audrey Hepburn (as Holly Golightly) can't cure. I want to live in a world where I can stand in the rain crying and still have perfect make-up.

Favorite Quote: I don't even want to own anything until I can find a place where me and things go together. I'm not sure where that is, but I know what it's like. It's like Tiffany's...I'm crazy about Tiffany's. Listen. You know those days when you get the mean reds? ... The blues are because you're getting fat or it's been raining too long. You're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible; suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of...Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump into a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it. Nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real life place that made me feel like that, well, then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name.
- Holly Golightly

IT Hates Me

It's official. Technology and I will never be friends. My computer has eaten my camera's flash card. Transfering pics from camera to computer on my old Sony Vaio (may it rest in peace) was a piece of cake. When I bought my camera last summer, I discovered that the weird little door on the side of the computer labeled "MagicGate" was for camera flash cards! (I'd always wondered why in the world my computer had a "Magic Gate.") So I was disappointed when I got a new laptop that wasn't a Sony (to match my camera) because I figured that meant I'd have to find the usb cord that came with it. But a friend said her computer could read several different types of flash cards so I decided to take a closer look at mine and low and behold, there was a little slot with three logos under it, one of which matched the one on mine. So I lined it up slid it in and went "Wait, that doesn't seem right." I tried to take it out but it was too late, it was too far in. Now it's at the back of the slot and nothing I've tried works to get it out. Which means I get to make a trip to Best Buy tomorrow. Yippee. The funny thing? Even though I've obviously put it in the wrong way, I wasn't completely off-base because the computer did read the card and import the pictures, but I'd like to have it back in my camera again. What's the point of a card reader that doesn't give you the card back? Stupid bloody electronics. Seriously, it all fucking hates me.