An ode to the bookless book club, with a dab of giveaway.
March 30, 2010
Last Friday, I spent a large part of the evening manically cleaning the house. Adam followed me around, shaking his head in wonderment at my efforts. “Do you really think you need to wipe the mouldings?” he asked. “I doubt they’ll notice the dust, anyway.”
I shook my own head, swiping at my sweaty brow with the clean (I think) end of the dustcloth. “Notice?” I hissed. “Adam, this is a BOOK club. These people read BOOKS. They know about mouldings.” I paused for breath. “THEY ARE READERS.” Then I brought him the stepstool and instructed him to dust the blades of the ceiling fan.
The cleanest moulding ever.
Truth be told, this was my first time hosting the group and it had to Go Well, lest I somehow be kicked out of what I have decided is the best book club ever. When it was formed last year, the founding members declared that we would read only enjoyable books, not the depressing tomes of social woe so beloved by previous book clubs. Besides one ill-fated misstep involving a Liberian memoir, we have remained true to the mission, indulging in the fluffier New York Times bestsellers and the random hey-the-cover-just-LOOKED-good selection. We shrink from pretension. We avoid any plots revolving around inherited disease or rapid descents into poverty. We positively shudder at book reviews that mention “literary irony.” Or ”heartbreakingly devastating.” That one’s the worst.
Truth be told again, we don’t actually talk about books all that much. Those of us with husbands complain about them. Those of us with children then complain about them. And then the single women in the group regale us with dating stories and we all wish we were single again. Well, except for the single women. But you get my drift.
The best meeting ever took place this past fall. In October, lubricated with wine and fresh off a rousing conversation about eyebrow waxing, we discovered we all shared a common if completely age-inappropriate love of the Twilight series. Then someone suggested that we forgo a book in November and instead meet at the movie theater for a viewing of New Moon. There was a moment of silence while we considered if this was too lighthearted a move to make, even for the World’s Most Lightheartedest Book Club.
“Well, New Moon was a book,” one member said.
“Yes! With complete sentences and everything,” someone else chimed in.
“Don’t forget the plot,” another cried. “It had one!”
Another moment of silence. Then someone whipped out the big guns.
“Yes, it definitely had an interesting plot,” she said softly. “In fact, some might call it devastating.”
That pretty much sealed the deal. We met, we bought popcorn, we catcalled. When Jacob/Taylor Lautner took off his shirt, we made comments so unsuitable that my ears burn to recall them.
IT WAS GREAT.
And so, in the spirit of book clubs and the books they may or may not read, I offer this giveaway: Leave a comment by next Tuesday night (4/6) and automatically be in the running for a $20 Amazon gift card. You could buy a book! A movie! A VAMPIRE!
Actually, I just learned vampires cost $29.99. Eh, you can scrape up that extra $10 on your own. I have werewolves to save for, myself.
Three stupid things, and one really good giveaway
February 8, 2010
Since it’s Monday, let’s get the stupid out of the way, okay? Okay. (If you’re one of those annoyingly sunny Monday people, feel free to skip to the bottom. But then you’re a bottom-feeder. Get it? Bottom-fee….oh, forget it.)
Three Stupid Things That Came to My Attention This Weekend
Stupid Thing#1: My Chocolate Boycott
So, this giving up chocolate thing. It was just about as smart as swearing off turkey in November, or deciding to really, really hate bunnies right around Easter. Maybe next time I could NOT give it up immediately before Valentine’s Day. You know, the holiday when every single thing you see is made of chocolate. While running errands this weekend, I witnessed chocolate lollipops, chocolate roses, chocolate puppies. I tell you, if I see one more piece of chocolate, I’m going to eat a real puppy. But first I’ll squirt some chocolate sauce on him.
Stupid Thing #2: Unnecessary Instructions
The warnings and useless instructions that many manufacturers put on their products to cover their butts often kill me. For example, a couple of months ago, Adam noticed the following boldface sentence in our new car seat’s instruction manual: “This child-restraint system is to be installed by adults ONLY.“
I wonder. Do you think there are families out there who send their three-year-old down to the garage with a 40-pound car seat and a brief lecture on the LATCH system, only to stumble upon this warning while their child is at work? “Hell’s bells, Martha! Get down there! WE’RE supposed to be installing that sucker, not Junior!”
Here’s another one, from this weekend. My dry-hands situation only continues to worsen, so I finally consulted a dermatologist, who prescribed the following steroid ointment.
I really can’t imagine looking at that tube, applying some steroid cream to my hands, and then thinking, “My eyes! I should inject this into my eyes! It will make them so STRONG and MOIST and NON-DRY.” But apparently someone did. Someone stupid.
Stupid Thing #3: The English Language
Lately, Aura has begun expressing more of an interest in learning to read and spell. As I try to help her weave her way through the thorny world of phonics, I am beginning to realize just how much of the English language is imbecilic. How am I supposed to justify the existence of irregular verbs, never mind the fact that yes, the Moon in Goodnight Moon makes a long double-consonant sound, while book itself has a short double-consonant sound? Or cough versus enough? Diphthongs? IT GOES ON AND ON.
You know the English language had to be invented by a man. Some German tribal guy, back in the fifth century, freshly arrived on the continent that would become Britain. He was probably looking for Plaque Street, got lost, and being too stubborn to ask for directions, made up a new road and called it Plague Street, changing the vowel sound for good measure. And so it began, all because the GPS industry took about fifteen centuries too many to get with it.
The Giveaway!
Remember that cute hair clip Aura was wearing a few blog posts ago? Well, how would your favorite little girl like three of her own—or, alternatively, how would you like a key wristlet? Jen of Linaloos.com has generously offered you all those very options. All you have to do to enter is go to her site, find three clips or one wristlet you would like, and list them in a comment here on my blog. The winner will be chosen at random next Tuesday, February 16.
Really, you should do it. Jen makes a great product, repurposing vintage sweaters to make her felted creations. Her designs are superb (cupcake pigtail clips, anyone?) and she gives back ten percent of every purchase to various, well-deserving charities.
So, DO IT.
Thank you, and have a very non-stupid day.
Hey, it’s Friday! It’s also Giveaway Winner Announcement Day.
Before I name the winner, allow me to observe how many of you have failed to appreciate the giveaway concept. With a giveaway, you get something FREE. Like, I have something, then I give it. Away. To you. For FREE. I am flummoxed by how many people viewed the post, yet did not comment. My only hypothesis is that most people are not as cheap as I am. You could have a, a…tractor giveaway and I’d comment. I have absolutely no desire whatsoever for a tractor, but a free tractor? I NEED IT. GIVE ME THE FREE TRACTOR.
Anyway, I really am grateful to all readers, even those who do not fully appreciate getting something for nothing. And perhaps next time I won’t even ask you to say something witty or makes guesses about movie stars. I’ll just ask you to offer up your middle name or favorite color. And when it becomes the Lamest Giveaway Ever, we will all know who to blame.
Yes. So. The winner, as determined by the ever-so-helpful True Random Number Generator, is #15, Cavalier, who shrewdly named Mel Gibson as a probable Golden Globe drunk. Excellent guess, Cavalier, and congrats.
Shall we take a moment to consider who Cavalier will soon be welcoming into his/her home, as soon as I get that DVD out the door?
None other than the delectable Stanley Tucci, one of Julie & Julia‘s brightest selling points. I find the diminutive Stanley very compelling. Not in a dirty-dreams kind of way, necessarily, but more the talent-and-skill kind of way. He’s like Napoleon, without all that hand-tucked-in-jacket, island-exile crap.
That about sums up this giveaway Friday. As we head into the three-day weekend, with its chance of more freakin’ snow, let me educate those of you unfamiliar with the wilds of Greater Boston on how we like our snowmen:
That’s right. We like ‘em made out shaving cream. We also eschew snowmen with wide-set eyes, much preferring them to have twoeyessquishedtogetherreallytightly. Arms, eh. As long as they have two of them, somewhere in the general vicinity of their enormous rectangular nose, we’re good.
Finally, snowpersons with rosebud mouths or pouty lips have zero chance for survival. You want to make it in metro Boston, you stick out your pipecleaner tongue. It’s like the middle finger you would have if the preschool teacher didn’t frown upon things like that.
