Tuesday, March 30, 2010

It's not a bad addiction.

I love books. There. I said it. Not that it's a big surprise to, uh, anyone. Especially not my husband. He is well aware of my desire to collect books. And while he rolls his eyes at me and grumbles about having books stacked everywhere, (no, really. I have four in my kitchen because I read them while I cook) I know he would rather me spend our hard (kinda) earned money on books that shoes and purses and makeup. Oh wait.

Back to the point. My mother is the enabler behind my problem. From a young age she pushed books in my face and made me read them. Forced, really. And I suffered. How I suffered. It is because of her insistence that I read that so many imaginary friends popped up in my head. Who needed to go outside and play when I could open up a book and be taken to someplace better than Sunshine Drive. And, okay, it wasn't hard to find a place better than Sunshine Drive, but that's not the point.

All through school I was a bookworm. People doubted how many books I read. They argued that it wasn't possible for one person to spend that much time reading. I pointed out that I didn't watch much television and I rarely played video games. These concepts were foreign to some of my friends. Poor kids. My love for reading never faded, though my available time certainly did. Still, there is nothing to this day that I love more than a new book. The smell of it. The weight of it in my hands. Not knowing how it is going to end or what characters I'm going to fall in love with.

But, sadly, I've noticed that as people grow older, they read less. I know so many people who say that haven't read a book since they were in school. Some of those people mean high school. How is that possible? How is it possible to go ten years without reading a book? I can't even go ten days. Are we all so addicted to the television/internet/texting that we can't take twenty minutes a day to read a bit of a book? I've heard people say that books are interesting. How can they not be? Where do people think so many movies come from? And have we all stopped using our imagination to the point that we can't picture far away lands and magical creatures in our minds?

Then today I went to a book signing for Christopher Moore. If you don't know who he is, I strongly suggest you read him. Well, if you're not easily offended. Because he is offensive. He's also hysterical, witty, intelligent and one of my favorite authors. There were so many people there to listen to him and have the chance to meet him. And seeing that gave me a little bit of hope.

Please. Pick up a book. I don't care if it's a sparkly vampire novel (okay, I lied. I do. Please don't read those) or a piece of classic literature. But read. Read to your kids. Share books with your friends. Just don't let your imagination die because you're too busy or too bored to read.

Monday, March 15, 2010


I don't talk about religion very often. Well. I do. Just not in a public forum like this because I know it's a very touchy subject for a lot of people. But this weekend, I actually went to church. I adore my church. It is the only church I will ever feel at home at. My mother and I started attending about ten years ago after the death of my grandfather. When needed a home and we found a Swedish church only fifteen minutes from our house. It was meant to be.

But I'm getting off track.

I, sometimes, have trouble reconciling my brain with my faith. I have a hard time accepting what I believe when it contradicts with what I know. And I'm sure I'm not the only person who has experienced this. And so instead of going to church every week and trying my best to understand how my faith and intelligence can co-exist, I avoid it all together.

But then, this week, it occurred to me. I don't go to church to try to understand what the church believes. I don't attend services every week to find answers. If I had all of the answers in the world, what would there be to live for? Life is one long lesson. We make mistakes and we have questions. We're never going to figure it all out. And that is what I should have understood about church years ago. I don't walk into that building each week to be provided with the answer. There is no "42" in the Bible. I go to church to be a part of a group of people who all want to live the best lives they can and be good people.

And, luckily for me, I've met some pretty amazing people through church. People who treat me like family and people who feel comfortable enough with me to ask me to be in the bell choir even though they know I'm going to say no. People who I've known since I was 16 and have yet to grow up around. And people who send me cards at Christmas and my birthday, just because we share a pew.

I love that while looking for an answer, I found something bigger.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


We all have faults. One of my biggest faults is being a snob. I judge people. I know I'm not supposed to and I know it's wrong, but I do it all the time. I look down on neighbors, co-workers and strangers on the train. I mock people in my head all the time.

But it's not something I want to continue to do. I don't actually want to be a bitter, cynical and judgmental bitch. I'm not saying I want to be sweet, loving and happy as a new puppy either. Let's try for a happy medium between sunshine and evil, okay?

So why am I writing about this? If I don't like this part of me, why am I sitting here and explaining it all to you. I know that people might look at this blog and judge me in return for being a snob. Especially considering I haven't accomplished much with my life. I haven't done all of the things I expect out of other people. So what gives me the right to think I'm better than anyone?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

But that's exactly why I'm writing this. I need to remind myself that I don't have the right to look down my nose at anyone. I don't have the right to judge anyone. I don't have the right to believe myself to be better than the person sitting across the aisle from me.

We all have faults. Maybe admitting them to the world will give me a reason to really work at fixing mine.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

My obsession with Accessories.

This is going to come as a huge surprise to, uh, none of you.

I like purses. Shoes too, of course, but today we're going to focus on purses.

I adore them. I have an every growing collection of bags in my closet and I can't get enough of them. The saddest moment in my life was when my dog ate my Betsey Johnson bag. I cried. (Don't judge me, it was an awesome bag.)

But as much as I love bags, I very rarely allow myself to buy anything that's not 100% functional. I need to hold of a lot of crap in my bags. Like, a lot. On any given day I have my camera, phone, wallet, makeup bag (which really only carries powder and lipglosses because I cannot possibly bring all my makeup with me), a book, my calender, my glasses and so on.

So I always end up buying bags like this.

It's not a bad bag. In fact, I love it. It was less than ten bucks, holds everything I need it to hold and doesn't show the grit and grime of commuting .

And while I really do appreciate having a nice, sturdy and dependable bag that holds everything under the sun... sometimes I just want something pretty. Pretty and dainty and girly.

That is why I'm writing this post, after all. Because a very amazing woman makes very amazing bags and it is my goal to own one. In celebration of launching her blog for her etsy shop, Julie of Julie Vision Designs is offering a custom clutch giveaway.

Her bags are amazing. I've been drooling over this one for ages. I'm also planning on having her create a bag (or two) from the dress I wore in my mother's wedding. I'm sure as hell not going to fit into that dress again and lacy beaded dresses from the 90's should have a second life.

In conclusion, I'm begging Julie to ignore the rules of picking at random. Remember how much fun we had discussing dysfunctional families over coffee? Don't you want to give me my very own pretty bag to have and to hold and love when my family is too insane to love me back?!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Geekery Brings Love.

This weekend I was blessed to meet a friend of mine named Nicole. Whenever I remember I've only "known" her for a few months I feel as though I'm counting the days wrong. But, no, I've really only been talking to her for a few months.

After a weekend together though... I'm pretty sure I'm going to insist on knowing her for the rest of my life.

There was so much talk of geekery and laughing at silly moments. We mocked sculptures and found subtext is everything we came across.

Wandering around my city with someone who could make me laugh was amazing. Even when we stalked real life people or tried to understand some really bad art.

There was eating ice cream outside in the cold, wandering around shops and walking the streets of Chicago. Coffee with new friends, a pub with much laughing and a train ride home in which we both SOMEHOW managed to stay awake. We played with our food, spent far too much money on candy and saw a movie. We even listened to David Schwimmer tell us everything we never cared to know about Chicago.

Turns out, Nicole is scared of heights. Maybe that is why she got the free ticket to the top of the Hancock and I paid full price. (So much fail.)

I'm so blessed to have awesome friends. I've met so many of them through the internet and really through the Harry Potter community. Some people out there might find it geeky, but it's really a blessing. Without that community online I wouldn't have met Nicole or a dozen other amazing people who make up my life and support system.

And even if they are far away, sometimes it just takes a plane (and blown tired, shuttle and attempted kidnapping) to get some quality time with them.