The one where my book club still exists

So perhaps you may recall that early last year I formed a book club. My original intent was to make it this whole interactive thing where my long-distance pals could read along with my book club and we could talk about it online and such. But then, as I’m wont to do, I dropped the ball/got lazy/gave it up/what have you. The online part of book club never got off the ground, but OH! the real-life book club made it. In fact, we made it to well over a year and, as far as I know, we’re still going strong.

Sure, we’ve changed a little over the last year. We lost a lovely kitten who moved to Colorado (she was a ghost writer for some secret authors, and we never found out who they were, so there’s still mystery there). We gained a dear sweet gal I know from work, and we have the enthusiastic readers along with the somewhat rebellious readers who argue month after month about the book we’ll read and who will read it. (Keep up, dolls; there’s one who doesn’t like our format and wants to read something different from everyone else each month and there are several who can’t stand ideas other than the traditional format of a traditional book club. I’m in the last camp.)

Anyway, this summer has been eventful for our No-Name book club, because – and get this because we are W-I-L-D and you could NEVER beat our wildness – we took a girls’ trip to the beach! And we drank drinks and we laid out in the sun under hats and lolled about in the water and wore pretty dresses to seafood dinners. And in August we are planning the ultimate book club field trip to the movies to see The Help. COULD NOT BE MORE EXCITED IF WE TRIED!

Lolling about the pool as any good book club does

Looking apres-sun gorgeous as any book club does

(In honor of The Help, I’ve just this second decided to do some posts about growing up in the South with help. If I remember and honor my plans, I’ll do them this week and will try not to be condescending or sugary or stereotype-y.)

(This is turning out to be quite the parenthetical post, and I’d forgotten how much fun parentheses can be. I told you: I AM WILD!)

As best I can remember, here’s the rundown of what we’ve read over the last year or so. I would love to know if you’ve read any of these and/or what you thought and/or what your recommendations are for the coming months.

  1. The Help by Kathryn Stockett This is the one that became the “book club sensation!” and has been made into a movie. Rightfully so, y’all, because it’s incredible. There are generally two reactions to it: “it tells the story of my life” or “it tells the story of a place I didn’t know existed.”
  2. South of Broad by Pat Conroy Right up there with the most terrible, if not the worst. Disappointing, cheesy and all the things Pat Conroy shouldn’t be known for.
  3. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows Charming and delightful, to sound like a little old lady book critic. It’s a feel-good book written in letters between characters. Highly recommend.
  4. The Privileges by Jonathan Dee Most people hated it; I did not. The ending will surprise.
  5. The Hangman’s Daughter by Oliver Pötzsch and Lee Chadeayne This was too gory for several of us, but I really enjoyed it. If you liked The Tudors, this will remind you of it in a weird, different way.
  6. Bossypants by Tina Fey Really, this needs no statement except it deserves umpteen stars.
  7. Emily and Einstein by Linda Francis Lee I didn’t finish it. On purpose.
  8. Mystery: An Alex Delaware Novel by Jonathan Kellerman This is one in a loooong series of psychological thrillers, and I just wanted an official excuse to buy the book. I love all of these, but they’re not for everyone.
  9. Room by Emma Donoghue Eerie. Very similar to the Jaycee Dugard story, prior to her book coming out. Heartwrenching.
  10. The Outer Banks House by Diann Ducharme*

*We were supposed to read this prior to the beach trip but only one person did. We’ve postponed this one until next month because August, after all, is still summer.

Incidentally, these are all Kindle e-books because I received a Kindle about halfway through last year. It honestly changed my life as much as the Keurig did. FOR THE BETTER, obvs. Are you in a book club? What’s it like? Do dish!

Lodge and in charge

I made a sudden decision tonight to replace all our ceilings with bead board, or at least some tobacco barn slats that I feel sure we have leftover from the farm project. I figure it’s super easy: sand that popcorny shit, slap a few boards up, have fun with the nail gun and BAM! Ceiling city. Maybe I can do that when I’m off on Friday.

I also made a sudden discovery tonight: I LIKE CAMPING. I’m not sure that roughing it can be defined in only one way, so I’m going to define it MY way: camping is, not sleeping in your own bed, it’s being able to see stars/moon/sun/streetlights from your bed, and it’s taking enough food into that sleeping area, wherever it may be, that you don’t rely on trail mix and melted snow if you get lost. BURGERS, lost people, PORK CHOPS. As some of us may recall from childhood, camping was a fort in the backyard. As adults, I say we bring back the Living Room Fort. We bring it back with pillows, blankets, those old refrigerator boxes, laundry baskets, step stools, THE WHOLE SHEBANG.

As if these weren’t already good enough ideas, I bombarded my mind with extra ideas it needs. (It always needs extra ideas.) My ideas are as follows:

  1. Make a new friend everyday. Now admittedly, some of us don’t run into a lot of people throughout the day and that can make this task seem daunting. A new friend can be the Canada goose who poos on your sidewalk. Your new friend can be the multi-pierced fellow at the grocery store who wants to touch your produce. It doesn’t matter, y’all. You’re just looking to make ONE new friend. Pick an interesting one.
  2. Be glad for one thing everyday. Today, I am glad that the people who live behind us in the weird house with the sketchy brown fence didn’t get hurt during what appeared to be, at the time, an electrical fire. Although, she’s a former art teacher, so BB and I concocted some fun, what-if stories that we’ll just share at a later date. (What if she was burning some kind of giant plastic bleach jug for an “art” project and then her family got home and was all “MOM! That’s bleach and FIRE!” And she’s all “No, kids. This is art.”)
  3. Oh, my other idea. This one rocks so steady, I can’t even stand it. Here it is, are you ready?

That’s right, y’all. THROWBACK VINTAGE ’60s style MOTOR-FUCKING-LODGE! My SIL stayed for a night this weekend and absolutely fell in love with it. The little guy at the front desk flips open the book to see if there are rooms available. And if there are rooms, he will hand you a real key with a giant plastic number as he pencils in your reservation. WITH A PENCIL. And dogs are allowed and even encouraged. And I just can’t say with any certainty that it will be the finest place I ever stay in, BUT! I think we might try it Brady style. Load up the wagon, stock the kitchenette, bring our beach towels and get the sheets sandy. I mean, hello…it’s the ATLANTIS LODGE.

Bitches.

Papa’s got a brand new bag

I’ve been avoiding the blog for a little while because there’s been so much going on I haven’t known where to start. Maybe I’ll start by making a list, as I do love a list better than just about anything.

1.       Brian got laid off.

2.       Brian was home for a really, really long time.

3.       I was the world’s greatest cheerleader, resume-writer and job coach. For free.

4.       I was the world’s greatest church-goer, two whole weeks in a row.

5.       Brian got hired!

6.       Brian’s first day at work was yesterday!

So week before last Brian was running around dropping his resume off anywhere that had an open door, and he decided to take one by his pre-Pepsi company just for the hell of it. Before he could get halfway home, the vice-president called him in for an interview! Can you believe it! Neither can I! Neither can he!

Last Wednesday he interviewed for a similar position as to what he did for Pepsi and they hired him ON THE SPOT. On the spot! For a job! And the sweetest deal of all is that this job is Monday through Friday. Not once in the 7 years we’ve been married has he had the same schedule as I have. We’ve been ships passing through the night, running into each other in the kitchen and occasionally one of us sees the other by sifting through laundry, searching for familiar clothes.

The last few weeks have been the best of our married lives. It’s no secret to our friends that we’ve gone through a bit of a…rough patch over the past few months. In fact, it was super rough. Like, SANDPAPER rough. And yet – YET! – he loses his job and we become blissfully happy. It’s like all the negativity of the world, all the things that beat us down over and over and over had magically disappeared. Brian’s face softened and he slept better. We laughed at stuff and marveled because we forgot what laughing sounds like.

And so this past weekend I surprised him with an overnight trip to the beach. It was amazing timing because North Carolina had its first 70-degree weather of the year and we honest-to-goodness took our beach chairs out on the sand. We snuggled in with books and short-sleeved shirts, and we walked for a little while with our toes in the water. (Which was frigid. We are obviously stupid.) We had a nice peaceful dinner, walked on the beach at night under a weird orangey moon and we slept in. We took naps and we laughed some more, because it kind of sounded good.

Now I realize all of this might come off as a little, I don’t know, cheesy maybe. And that’s true. But I’ve found myself in a new quandary, Internet, and here’s where I need your help.

For the last few years, Brian has been the primary housekeeper because he was home ALL THE TIME. He had like, a gajillion days off and so the cleaning fell on him. Now that we’re back on the same schedule, we have to rework our chore chart a little. I want there to be less clutter, obviously, but for right now I just feel like we need to spring clean for a fresh start.

I’m doing one room at the time, starting tonight with our bathroom. I’ll tackle the other stuff later. What are your best cleaning tips? What makes the whole job easier for you? I might just sweeten the comment pot with a little prize for the one cleaning tip that saves my life. YOU NEVER KNOW.

While sitting idly by

One of my friends on Twitter this week said that she was thinking of starting a petition to keep me from going MIA. Don’t do it, Ashley; you will disappoint your signers. If my fucking HTC Eris Android phone ever starts to work again (VERIZON: Fucking get Apple to fucking let you sell the fucking iPhone al-fucking-ready, wouldya?) I could set an alarm on my calendar for blogging days and not get behind. Really I blame this all on the Droid. Who names a phone “Droid” anyway? Nerds need to get new lingo.

A few thoughts and observations, in no particular order, about no particular or singularly fascinating thing:

My friend called me tonight to tell me that he ran into the woman he THOUGHT he was dating, except she was having dinner with another man – her steady boyfriend. The “other man” was wearing a blue wife-beater, a camouflage hat and a gold rope chain. My friend wears tweed sport coats and those leather driving moccasins with the buckles. The irony was not lost on us.

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I went to the beach this week and it was absolutely beautiful. Fall is my favorite season anyway, and anywhere, but the beach this time of year is perfect. The crowds are gone, the air is crisp and salty and the seafood is extra fresh and comes quickly. Days are warm, nights are cool, and any time of day you can watch huge white yachts cruise by on their way to warmer climates. You really can’t beat it with a stick. True story: some giant rusty barge slammed into the side of a really shiny yacht from the British Virgin Islands while we were having lunch on a dock. It was kind of awesome. (I’m not evil; no one got hurt, except the side of the shiny expensive gigantically huge rich people’s yacht.)

I went to the beach this week because we’re on fall break and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I always lust for vacations from work because, let’s face it, I don’t like to work. I don’t like to do much of anything, really. But what always happens has happened again: I got home from my trip, have had a few days to myself and I’ve wound up couch-potato-ing the days away because I am out of my routine. I’m like a three year-old who missed a nap. When I’m out of my routine, I don’t take my crazy meds on time, I sleep too late, I take too many naps and I have chronically dirty hair. Not to mention the fact that the pantry mysteriously gets emptier and emptier. Remind me of all this two weeks from now when I’m counting the days until Thanksgiving.

What I need to do is grade papers, calculate percentage points, pay my business taxes before I get sent to jail and finish up invitation orders already. Someone tell me how YOU get motivated when there’s all this free time ahead of you, because frankly I’m stumped.

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In other news, the famed Power-Tool Pumpkin Carving Party is next weekend and as usual, we don’t have a pumpkin yet. Also as usual, I’m worried about what to wear around the 20-somethings. If I wear clogs, they’re in boots. If I wear jeans, they’re in cords. If I wear a sweater, they wear t-shirts and those infinity scarf things. If I didn’t actually care whether or not a 20-something looked my way, I’d drink more pumpkin ale.

Also in other, scarier, news…there is an arsonist loose in our neighborhood. I’m not even remotely kidding and I get terrified every time I leave the house that I’ll come back to fire trucks. Two houses that were recently vacated have burned in the last 6 weeks, and that’s just on the next street over from us. There have been other fires nearby and the police have resorted to fliers asking for leads in exchange for reward money. This is quite unsettling, and yes, we’ve checked the smoke alarm batteries.

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The Seven Year Itch. Yeah, Internet, we’re gonna talk about it. Not right now, of course, because that’s a whole other casserole in the oven. But it’s there. IT’S THERE. I’m referring of course to relationships and not a condition that requires vagina cream, if you were wondering.

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Finally, I miss – like, in my bones and my heart and my soul – my co-workers, specifically my shiny light, C. This new job is fantastic, wears me out, makes me feel challenged and yadda yadda but I don’t see her every day anymore. I actually don’t see her at all and our phone conversations are short and somewhat stilted. I love her more than life and I miss her deeply. Don’t let people fool you: your co-workers are closer to your heart than you think, whether you love them or hate them. When you leave them or vice versa, you will miss them. Mark my words.

I’m going to bed, y’all. I’m going to sleep well because the windows are open and it’s 40 something degrees out – YES, BITCHES, THE HEAT IS GONE! I AM NOT SWEATING! HALLEFLAPPINGLUJAH! – but I will dream about this blog and wonder if you’re still out there reading.

I sincerely hope you are.

It’s time for summer to end

All my friends that have children are so funny about August. Half of them are sending kids off to kindergarten and so they have broken hearts and empty houses during the day. The other half are counting the days until school starts back and their favorite commercial is the office supply store one with the dad dancing around to “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

We returned from our week-long family beach trip yesterday and we are happy, slightly tan and rested but exhausted, if that makes sense. We’re exhausted from visiting, from finding things to talk about with people who can’t count conversation as their strong suit, and from filling our bellies with shrimp, crab and fish. (And maybe some cheese dip and margaritas and cookies and lemon meringue pie and tomato sandwiches with real mayonnaise and ice cream…)

We are rested though, because we basically did nothing. The most exercise we got was from hauling our crap down to the beach and back up to the house, and really BB did that. We swam – a lot – and we lolled about in the sand until we got rashy and bumpy, which is an okay trade off. We played shark and pulled our nieces around in innertubes. We people-watched and criticized bathing suits and tattoos (we already know we’re hypocrites, don’t worry). We read books, had deep discussions and tried to avoid olive appetizers and bourbon slushies. (Eww and eww.)

In short, we had a really good time.

Now, though, the real world faces us, as it does everyone who returns from vacation, and for me, school will begin in a week. I will be teaching a class of 75 students (in an auditorium!) once a week, after my regular job. We will register new students, encourage the old ones and smile the smile of this-summer-wasn’t-nearly-long-enough.

I’m kind of with the kindergarten mothers: I’m not ready to let go, even though it’s time this weather cooled the hell off already. I’m also ready for football and for daylight to go away before bedtime. When you live here though, the seasons don’t change quickly, or on time.

Some days I’m really surprised that I’m not in charge of the world. I really am.