The Post About The Lena Dunham Book I finished 5 Minutes Ago.

I just finished Lena Dunham's book "Not That Kind Of Girl" and I thought it was wonderful. Here is a girl who used to do weird stuff as a kid and who thinks about dying on a regular basis. I feel like I know her. And honestly amidst on the sexual mishap stories (which I'm sure all of us have plenty of) and the feminist discovery of oneself (which is awesome) those are really the two things that I related to, doing really weird shit as an adolescent and thinking about death at inappropriate times. It's one of those things that hits you out of no where and leaves me with a cold sweat and a deep unshakeable dread. I had no idea that other people feel it in the same way I do.

Her book made me think of the incredibly odd things I used to do when I was a little kid.

I consider myself a collector of spunky funny female memoirs. I have a sickness. I can't stop myself from buying them. Whether it's the obscure writer of Community's memoir about how her boyfriend wrote a book about her or Miley Cyrus' riveting saga of life up to fifteen or Diane Keaton's book about her mother. I am obsessed with reading about other women. But I want them to be strong and self confident but also not self confident. The kind of woman that appear to have it together and kind of do but also really don't. Because that is who I see myself as. I eat it up. And Lena's book did not disappoint.

There were so many phrases that struck home with me that I am going to have to re-read it in the future but with sticky notes to capture all the amazing ways she turned my feelings into words.

My favorite line by far was number Fifteen on her list of "Fifteen Things my Mother Taught Me":

15. Family First. Work Second. Revenge Third.

Also for some inexplicable reason I am completely enamored with the fact that she wrote about her nine year old neighbor's newsletter. It oddly reminded me of a philosophy book called "The Elegance of a Hedgehog" which is one of my favorite books and if you haven't read it what are you waiting for?  Those few passages made me giddy and I can't really explain why. I can say I adored this book it was everything you would expect from Lena Dunham and I mean that as a huge compliment. 

The Post about Freddy's Fast and Tasty Chicken

   The only way I was ever getting out from under Freddy Malone's greasy fingers was the interview at Stanford State. I had been working at Freddy's Fast and Tasty Chicken for three years, ever since ma burned her hand ironing Mrs. Krinkle's delicates at 4 in the morning so she would have time for the two other jobs she was working. That's when I decided she needed me more than I needed school.

    Last year she got really sick and about six months ago she left for good. I tried to quit the Tasty Chicken the very next day but Malone insisted my good for nothin Pa owed him a hell of a debt and Ma had barely made a dent in it. She never said anything about it to me but she wasn't the type to really share and as hard as I tried to get her to lighten her burden she would just smile pat my cheek and say "the troubles of the old are not for the young". I looked at the clock for the eighth time in the last thirty seconds, two and a half hours until my shift is over. Two and a half hours until I go home, shower and take the A-train downtown. I look at the clock again I am staring it down. A standoff between me and this clock is happening in the middle of a hot sweaty kitchen. My cluck-cluck hat gets shoved into my eyes and I turn around flustered. 

"Alright Andrews, Cathy called in sick so I'm gonna need you to stay til close tonight ya hear." Malone breaths into my face the stench of cigar and mint overwhelming my senses. It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts. 

"No Mr. Malone you need to find someone else. I'm off tonight, I can't stay."

Mr. Malone sucks his teeth stops at the kitchens exit and slowly turns around. A shit eating grin spreads across his face. "Got a dame you gotta see? Well call her up tell her you are gonna be a little late. Be a good boy and close up shop for me and I'll knock double what you make off that large debt you owe me."

"No sir. Can't do it. I have an important meeting that I can't miss. That I won't miss."

The grin drops from his face and a mean glint flashes in his eye. "I was trying to be nice. But you will close the shop tonight. End of discussion. I own you boy, I will collect my debt one way or another." With that he slammed through the kitchen doors. 

My feet collapsed from under me, I started having trouble breathing thoughts of what Malone could have done to me racing through my head. All the mob classics made an appearance. But then my mother's face flashed through my mind. Her smile, her smell, the way her strength seemed to settle around her. I knew I couldn't miss this meeting, it was too important to me and I knew she would be upset if i had. I got to my feet. A fire burned inside my belly. A white hot rage overran all of my good sense. I picked up my abandoned dish towel and let the burner set it aflame. I calmly walked into the back and tossed it onto the mountains of cooking oil haphazardly stacked in the corner and calmly walk out of the building. Down second street to my apartment to take a shower and get ready for my interview. 

The Post that Got Held Up By the Snowpocalypse

Due to the unforeseen weather conditions and my southern state flipping it's shit. I haven't had a chance to make either mon or wed's posts this week. And unfortunately this will be a short one. But, worry not you will have a fully grown post tomorrow. For right now I'm just going to update you on this passed weeks events. I had the first meeting of my young adult book club on monday and 2 people have joined. The book they chose is:

Ready Player One

In the year 2044, reality is an ugly place. The only time teenage Wade Watts really feels alive is when he's jacked into the virtual utopia known as the OASIS. Wade's devoted his life to studying the puzzles hidden within this world's digital confines—puzzles that are based on their creator's obsession with the pop culture of decades past and that promise massive power and fortune to whoever can unlock them. 
   But when Wade stumbles upon the first clue, he finds himself beset by players willing to kill to take this ultimate prize. The race is on, and if Wade's going to survive, he'll have to win—and confront the real world he's always been so desperate to escape.



I will continue to update you all on the progress of the bookclub. I'm having a hard time coming up with a good name for it. I still have no ideas. So if anyone would like to make a suggestion the help would be very much so appreciated.

On a different note, I just finished the first Stephanie Plum book One for the Money by Janet Evanovich and now I am hooked. I have to read the other books. I really need to get myself an e-reader so I can download all of these and carry them around with me. I also started Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya sisterhood, the first Maximum Ride book and the first Monster High book. I work in the kids/ young adult section of a bookstore so I like to try to keep up to date with what my local regulars are interested in. Right now it is Monster High, Frozen and the I survived series. In any case I'll let all you know how those go so far so good but you never really know until you get to the end.

Leave your comments below to suggest a name for the book club or just to talk about what you've been reading lately. I'd love to hear from you.

The Post About An Unprofessional Sizest

prompt: POV - inanimate object / Police officer / unprofessional

I remember the first day with him. The feel of his stiff cotton shirt, his heart pounding. I could tell he was nervous but also excited. I felt the same way. I had been looking forward to this for several days. The anticipation was overwhelming. Preparing for him, making myself shiny and clean. I gleamed, proudly from his breast, as cheers erupted all around us. I saw all kinds of people, young old of all different colors, shapes, sizes but they all shared the same look of pride and joy. Maybe for Tim Vercaro, maybe for one of the others, but the pride was palpable in the small cramped auditorium. This was a big day for Tim, along with all the other men and women in the room who finally answered the call of the shield. That was me, a symbol of protection and justice. What a joke. But I was young, naive and ready to believe the good in Tim. I was ready to believe that we would take on the world together.... but that was before. 

The beginning of the end was a horrible day. It was raining, not a cool refreshing rain, but a hot muggy rain that gave everything a slight smell and made you feel like you had taken a sticky sweat bath. Tim and I were working our regular beat the south end of downtown Detroit. This was his neighborhood, he grew up on these streets. He checked in on Andy, the owner of one of the only family owned corner stores still left in the area. Time liked to check in make his presence know, so thugs wouldn't give Andy so much shit. Today wasn't a normal day, Andy was anxious. I could feel his heart racing underneath his dark navy uniform, but his voice and demeanor were calm. This was not his usual behavior. Normally his heart raced like this during an especially difficult interrogation or when he was chasing down a perp. Honestly, it was starting to worry me. 

We walked down a south east alley I had never seen before and Tim ducked into a low doorway. Tim was by no means a tall guy and he still very nearly missed slamming his head into the ceiling. 

"Jesus, Fuck" He shouted, "Why can't you assholes find a normal sized hovel for your secret butt fuck sessions."

A small man sitting on a stool glanced up from the paper he was reading. 

"Hey fuck you man. The rest of this world is made for large people it's your turn to duck and accommodate to our size. Sizest piece of shit." 

"Whatever." Tim's detest for Marvin was apparent in the disgusted way he sneered the term in his direction. Marvin rolled his gaze back to his paper. 

Tim entered a large clearing at the end of a hallway with doors along each wall. He slammed his fist on the desk "Alright asshole, I did what you wanted I joined the force. I'm officially a gun carrying decent member of society. Now where the fuck is my money?"

The back of a cracked leather chair faced off with Tim, whose heart rate increased at an alarming rate. Staggered breath was the only sound in the large room. Then there were hands, large thick sausage fingers wrapped around Tim's arms and pulled him back from the desk. A loud squeak pierced the sounds of a slight struggle as the chair and its occupant turned to face a very upset red faced cop who was struggling against the grip of two meat headed cronies. I could feel the fabric of his shirt stretch taunt as he pushed against their grip. The clasp at my back was feeling the pressure.

"Timmy my boy, you make me so proud." A very deep voice that did not match the mouth it was coming from echoed across the room. Smaller than the man in the hallway this guy looked like he should be painted orange singing "oompa loompa do-ba-dee-do". The deep heavy voice was extremely off putting from someone whose feet couldn't touch the floor. He scooted forward and put his elbows on the large desk. "Boys, boys calm down."

I felt the tension loosen and breathed a sigh at the relief of pressure. Tim was standing there clenching his fists angrily glaring. In the few months we had been together I had never seen him like this. Or gotten any indication that Tim knew a man like this. That's when I knew. The man who was my comrade, who made a vow "to protect and to serve" was nothing more than a thug. A pawn in the game of a man child. 

After that day Tim made evidence disappear, he let suspects slip through his fingers. He didn't even seem remorseful. It sickened me watching him put on the clean cut guy who wanted to protect people act. But I couldn't do anything. I was just a symbol, forced to live next to a heart filled with greed and hate. Now that I knew his true intentions it made me feel tarnished and wrong. As If I had four points instead of five. He was a phony and he forced me to be a phony every time he used me to commit a crime. Fortunately for me his double life didn't last forever. Someone smart and clever and worthy of a better shield than me caught on. 

That's how I ended up here. In a sealed box with traces of dried blood caked into my grooves.

The Post About MagiCath and My Love Of Fanfiction (*spoilers*)

First and foremost I would like to announce that I just finished Fangirl and I loved loved loved it. I love that Cath didn't give up her love of fantasy and her "fangirlness" to be all normal college student who goes to parties and finds a hot guy. I mean she does find a hot guy but it's a guy who likes her because of her quirky weirdness not in spite of it.

I do feel like the out come of the fiction-writing paper she was supposed to do was rushed but It was an amazing story. I felt a few times, especially in the beginning, that Rowell was writing about my experience as a nerdy recluse freshman. If you have fandoms or are new to the whole adult scene this book is incredible.

The romance is handled in such a good positive way. She takes her time with the boy she is incredibly attracted to but doesn't go to either extreme of  getting intimate too quickly or having nothing at all. She is skittish and nervous which is perfectly normal but she doesn't do anything before she isn't ready and I fell like that is an amazing aspect of average life that most authors don't really touch on. Sex was not a defining factor in this girls relationship and that was refreshing.

I honestly thought that this was going to be very different. There wasn't really a climax or a falling action in the standard sense but it was beautifully written in a real time sense. Yes her father had a bit of a breakdown and her sister was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning and her mother makes a reappearance but none of those issues really get resolved and that's because normally those things don't settle themselves in 300 pages or less. They are ongoing issues that sometimes don't every get neatly wrapped up. Her dad still has some issues he is working through and the whole mom issue is a work in progress, I also really like that Cath stuck to her convictions on how she felt about her mom and her mom leaving. Having a similar situation happen to me, I believe it isn't up to the child to right a parent's wrongs that even when it's hard and it hurts a parent should always try for the love of their child. Especially after just leaving, not returning any phone calls from your children and then popping back into their lives years later and still not wanting to be parental.

Cath being a famous fan fiction writer was the most refreshing storyline, coming from someone who blogs and follows a few fandoms in the weirdest, quirkiest possible way (superwholock). It was nice seeing a girl who was actually nerdy and interesting and not what the media thinks is nerdy and interesting. We didn't have a plain jane girl who simply isn't popular go to college and wow the general populous for no apparent reason. We had a girl who loved a fictional fantasy series, much like Harry Potter, and she didn't give up on it for a single second. She had custom made t-shirts and posters, even commemorative busts of her two favorite characters. Not to mention her otp was a gay crackship and very few people blinked an eye at the idea of an eighteen year old female writing homosexual slashfic. It brought something that most people view as a dirty little secret, whether you read slashfic or write it, into the light of the general public in the form of a bestselling young adult novel. In a way it's saying you like this thing other people like and that is ok. I think that is amazing, coming from someone who used to read a lot of fanfiction and would get made fun of for it, I like that it's becoming a social norm, that fanfiction writers are getting a following. It keeps worlds and stories alive in magical ways.

If you have read Fangirl or are interested in adding any comments to this post feel free to comment.

The Post That Gives You An Update and Two Lists.

This is the part where I explain my absence; a very lovely birthday weekend vacation and a B&B add up to no wireless connection, excuse number one. Excuse number two, is that I live in a part of the south that was entirely unprepared for the ice storm, we lost power for a few days, had some wonderful snowball fights and I read a lot, so THIS time the non blogging was not my fault. I do have UPDATES.

My first meeting of the young adult book club is next week and I have narrowed down my list of books I want to  have us possibly read. Of course anyone who comes can suggest whatever they may be interested in reading, however, I am trying really hard to stay away from the teen top twenty, although I love John Green and the Divergent series etc.. I have read them and I am sure most reading enthusiasts have read them too. I want to introduce new genres and concepts. If I'm not having fun they probably aren't having fun so I want all the books we read to be just as new to me as they are to them. Excited, is probably not a good enough word for my feels on this project.

So the list of books I have compiled, and let me be clear have NOT read, are (the age range in theory is going to be 13+ but if I have a number of 11/12 year olds interested I'm going to have to adjust my book criteria):

• OCD, The Dude, and Me  - Lauren Vaughn
• Red - Alison Cherry
• A Story Lately Told - Angelica Houston
• I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith
• The Death of Bees - Lisa O'Donnell
• Replay - Ken Grimwood
• The Secret History - Donna Tart
• The Girl in the Steel Corset - Kady Cross
• Grave Mercy - Robin LaFevers

I'm hoping to get a decent amount of teenagers on the older end of the age spectrum but the younger set would be super fun to read with too. So I'll compile a list for that age range as well. 

• When Audrey Met Alice - Rebecca Behrens
• The Mysterious Howling : The Incorrigible children of Aston Place #1
• Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynn Jones
• Dragon Rider - Cornelia Funke
• Candymakers - Wendy Mass
• Heck: Where the Bad Kids Go - Dale E Basye
• Saavvy - Ingrid Law

That is my list so far. The only other thing I have to do is come up with a name for this bookclub. I am not very good at that sort of thing. My list of possibilities is embarrassing so I'm not going to share that but as soon as I come up with it I will post it. 

For now I'm just amped at the idea of being able to discuss books with people who have read what I have and don't look at me with a glassy stare as I go on and on. I love discussing books and any chance to do so I take. Hence my sending these words and letters out into the void of the internet. This is my only chance to talk at people about what matters to me and routinely getting feedback off of it is going to be a new and interesting experience. 

If anyone has any book suggestions for the YA group or any club names leave a comment below. I'd love to hear some of your opinions.

The Post About A Drunkard and a Murder.

Prompt:  POV - third person (limited) / mystery / cooking

        An unknown man was wandering down a side street in the wee hours of the morning one sunday, in the restaurant district. He was wobbling along with no real destination. A hiccup escaped through his lips and he leaned against the side of a bakery to steady himself. That little hiccup and take quite a bit out of him and the world began to spin a bit. He righted himself and then continued on his way, wandering about.

 The people had yet began to stir, so though he was having trouble sorting through his muddled thoughts, the fact that three cars were sitting outside of the famous Cafe' La Roux drew his attention. He figured if they were open this early he might as well have a cup of tea and try to shake the drunken state he found himself in. He walked to the front and pulled on the door, it didn't give. He walked around to the back, still yet to be fully clearheaded he was dead set on that cup of tea. Walking around back hoping to find some sign of life he felt a sudden strange sensation, a little sobered by the feeling of unwelcomeness he made his way back towards the front of the building. Stumbling some, the portly man was shocked to see that only one car was left at the front of the building and the door which had previously been bolted shut was now gaping open. Curiosity got the best of him and he walked forward and peered into the dark room.

 Large and filled with tables and chairs he could see through the light of the morning that not a soul was in sight. A timid hello floated from his mouth and cautiously stepped around the front of the room. He cursed under his breath, upset at himself for feeling a bit coward. Deep breath in and another much louder Hello boomed from his chest and paraded around the room seeking every nook and cranny for an ear to catch. That large echoing hello found it's mark and a deep groan replied back to the empty room. The man stepped through the entrance, the bright light piercing the dim room was bothersome to his unsteady state. He went directly for, it bracing his eyes. Looking at the scene before him, dizziness swept through his body. A nauseous wave rose inside of him and he released his stomachs contents into the side sink next to the swinging doors of the kitchen.

Lying in a pool of blood was a young woman in a chef's uniform. The man knelt next to her, hoping against hope she was still alive. Slight movement of her head nearly catapulted the man out the door, but he held his place refusing to leave this woman on her own. He pulled out his mobile, hands shaking he called for an ambulance.

Once again he knelt next to the woman and tried to sooth her by telling her help was coming. After about the third mumbled reassurance she turned her head up towards him. That's when he got a full view of the slit across her throat. His stomach threatened to turn on him again, but instead of giving in to the impulse he leapt into action. Grabbing the nearest washcloth he pressed it firmly to her throat. The woman gargled a little and blood pooled out of her mouth. She gasped one last breath and her eyes fell closed. The man knew she was gone, but he pressed the cloth to her wound nevertheless. He didn't know what else to do. When the ambulance arrived they found the man weeping over the woman's body putting pressure on the wound. They gently removed him from the scene and took the body away. He seemed to not notice the tears or be aware of the fact he kept muttering who would do this? who would do something like this? 

That was the question running through detective Blaire Dockett's mind as she left the scene having gathered all the information on the victim and taken the only witnesses statement. Not that there was much to go on. Drunks didn't tend to give the most accurate testimonies. It was probably best he didn't see much, his testimony would do little in a court room anyway. But still, murders were uncommon in this area of town, who would want to harm a 26 year old soux chef at 4 o'clock on a sleepy sunday morning. Not a crime of passion. A slit throat was more like a job. A professional. She probably didn't even see it coming, poor thing.

Someone wanted this young woman dead, and Dockett was going to find out who. The youngest female on the police force she was smart, dedicated, married to the job. A little cliche' but it's what she loved. Solving puzzles and figuring people out. This was no exception.