Despereaux is done

The view from my bedroom window this morning. :)

Well, I finished Despereaux's tale. No more depression. The book ended happily...I guess. Let me quote a little of it. Here are some excerpts from the last chapter:

But the question you want answered. I know, is did they happily ever after?
Yes...and no. (what is that supposed to mean. PCKU.)
What of Roscuro? Did he live happily ever after? Well...The Princess Pea gave him free access to the upstairs of the castle. And he was allowed to go back and forth from the darkness of the dungeon to the light of the upstairs. But, alas, he never really belonged in either place, the sad fate.

What is that for an end for a poor little rat? Man, I am glad my life was not written by DiCamillo. The good part is, other things were fine. I will read her other books. I think she writes well and can tell a story, I just think this was depressing for a kids book. But, alas, we all must learn about life and this book might be a good tool to teach kids about life, death and good and evil. So, as far as the book goes overall...I am glad to have read it, once again. I think, no matter the book, I am going to be grateful for reading it because I will have learned something. Even if this book was tortuous for me, it still taught me that even kids (pre-teen) can be pretty sad.

After I finished my book, I went out to the beach to take some pictures. Apparently, South Carolina got 8.5 inches of snow last night. This made me want to take a walk outside and look at all of the snow and ice outside of my apartment. The beach is still a lunar landscape. I love the contours of the snow as the wind has blown through it. Some of the waves have been stopped in time, as well, which offers a fantastic sight. The terrain is completely different, but I love it. My favorite part of looking at what water is available to see is the "lily pad" like sheets of ice; they are independent circular chunks of ice floating around!

I also learned on the beach that I want a dog. Everyone has a dog in Rogers Park. They were everywhere playing. Too bad I have no time.

I just got off the phone with Stephanie and of course, our conversation was demented. I told her I scraped a little ice off of my heart to ask her to be my Valentine. She said yes. I was shunned by another person this week when I asked to by my Valentine. LOL. Earlier today (see how random my thoughts are!), I was having a conversation with my friend Jonathan about Valentine's Day. Please take note everyone...it is Valentine, not Valentime's. There is no "M" in Valentine, only "N." Do not tell me to have a Happy Valentime's Day.

Have a great day!!!!

Give me a vicodin, two shots of vodka and heavy machinery

Holy crap, Despereaux, I would be sorry if I lived, too...except it is not Despereaux, it is everyone else. All I can say is that I am digging for Lexapro in my bathroom medicine cabinet right now. Man, this book is SCHADENFREUDE. I am not sure what or whom to feel bad for in this book. I am not sure if I should be happy for anyone or just hoping they make it to Heaven safely. Before I go into my explanation of the almost-wrap-up of this book, I need to acknowledge a few things. Kate DiCamillo, I like you and your hair. I respect you for you being an author. It is amazing that you have a Newbery and have written very successful books. But damn. Really? So here is the disclaimer I am going to make: I know I am not a Newbery Medal winner. I know I have not written several successful kids books. I know I have not even published so much as a poem or a paragraph. But please tell me what gave you the idea to include SO MUCH PAIN in this book? I feel so bad for the characters. Why don't they just all kill themselves?

So, Reader (as DiCamillo states on every page), I would like you to ponder the above paragraph. Do you know the definition of ponder? If you do not, I advise you look it up in the dictionary (and these are specific instructions given in the book I shit you not). As the book as unfolded, many events have occurred. I am on page 237 of 267ish pages.

Event to the first since last night: We are introduced to a rat named Chiaroscuro (translates to arrangement of darkness and light together). He is brainwashed by Boticelli, a rat, and told to torture prisoners in the dungeon of the castle. He convinces Roscuro to take the possessions of a new prisoner. We find out the prisoner has a red tablecloth with him (this tablecloth was earned in an exchange along with a hen and cigarettes for his daughter). So, the tablecloth is a keepsake. He explains to Roscuro how he didn't even look back as his daughter was crying for him when he sold her. Lexapro

We then meet Miggory Sow, named after a pig. Paxil. Her mother died telling her she was worth nothing cimbalta. We find out her father sells her for a tablecloth, hen and cigarettes. vicodin. SHUN. Mig has to live with this man that purchased her morphine drip that she calls uncle. Uncle boxes her in the ears and hits her in the face thus making her lose her olfactory senses and hearing vodka shots.

Back to Roscuro. He discovers he loves light which is impossible b/c rats love darkness and live in it. So, he leaves the dungeon and stumbles upon a banquet. He climbs to the chandelier of the banquet hall. Princess Pea notices him and says something about a rat, but no one pays attention. He realizes the word rat sounds so bad when she says it and feels bad. Sorry. Well, he falls off of the chandelier into the Queen's soup. She sees him, has a heart attack and dies. SHUN PAXIL. Well the Princess gives the rat a dirty look and he decides he will get revenge. Ok...let's stop here. Did DiCamillo go to the ghetto to get that dirty look thing? OMG. That is hilarious that he is going to get revenge for a dirty look. "I know you didn't look at me that way." Oh please.

So back to Mig. Oh poor girl. The royalty bans soup and collects all pots, spoons and bowls from the nation. The knights run across Mig and her "uncle" and find out she is sold. They claim the deaf girl and take her to the castle. She becomes a good for nothing maid/servant, etc and gets fat and everyone hates her except the Princess and say she is good for nothing and she should just kill herself. Well, Mig wants to be a Princess. Everyone laughs at her in her face. Sad, sad, sad. One day, she is sent to the dungeon to take food to the prisoners. She meets Roscuro and he tells her his plan for revenge on the Princess for looking at him the wrong way and that he has a plan to make Mig princess. Well, Mig goes with his plan.

Back up. As he is telling the plan, Despereaux hears. He has escaped the dungeon and ends up in the kitchen. The cook sees him and tells Mig to kill him. She tries and cuts off his tail. Oh good God. Blood, missing appendages. Well, Despereaux hurts and cries and has bad dreams. Reader, do you feel depressed? My hands are trying to kill themselves so I don't type anymore of this depression. He is determined to save the Princess.

Back to Mig. She and Roscuro hold Pea as hostage in the dungeons.

Back to Despereaux. He falls in oil and flour, runs across mouse council. They think he is a ghost.

Despereaux tells the King what has happened. King says he is a liar because all rodents lie (my chinchilla does not lie).

This is where I am and I am done talking about this book. I know it will end well. You should read it.


SOOOOOOOOO...my day today.

The bus dumped patients off at Barnes and Noble. Oh dear God what a day.

Woman #1: She asks CKG and me "You ain't got no pens up in here?" Enough said. Get the Hell out of Barnes dumbass.

Woman #2: She says to CKG "I have been sitting over here trying to read and this music is too loud. It is distracting me from reading." CKG says "Ma'am this is not a library. This is a book and music store, we cannot control the fact that in store plays are what they are and we cannot control the volume at the Service Desk." She says to CKG "Well I feel like I am in a bar and grill." CKG: "This is not a library. We don't ask people to be quiet unless they are yelling. If you need somewhere that is quiet, I suggest you go find another place in the store, there are plenty of spots." Dumbass says: "This feels like a bar and grill." CKG says under her breath "You smell like one."

Oh what a day.

Finally, tonight, I went out. I don't normally go out, but I was invited out by my friend Dexter. He invited me as his guest to a Divorce Party. Well, I have never been to a Divorce Party because in the South, we bite our tongues and live with each other even if the love is not there anymore (unless you are Jenny Sanford where you right a bestseller or Mark Sanford where you profess your soulmate comment to the nation). Well, here in Chicago, we celebrate the ending of long, drawn out divorce processes. So this is what the party was celebrating. I have to say, I had a blast. It was an intimate party with about 25-30 guests. They were all a hoot! The party came with a bartender/server as well. The drink of the night was a French Screw; I indulged in two. I met a lot of great people and had a lot of great conversations.

But, there is one quick story to indulge from the fun. As I walked in, a guy pointed at me and said "You just came from Bally! I was on the eliptical next to you!" He, I think is 46 from what he said (btw...this is hilarious!). "I looked over and you were on your phone, then you were reading, then you were listening to music and you never touched the bars! How do you do that? I was waiting to see what the Hell else you were going to pull out! You had the whole damn works right there with you!" I laughed and told him about all of my reading and the blog thing. He said "Well I could never do that. And for God's sake, you pull out a tiny-ass waterbottle and I have a gallon of lifesaver Gatorade." How do you do it? You weren't breaking a sweat!" And then he found out I was reading the book and listening to music. "OMG. You were not listening to a book on CD and reading along? HOLY CRAP. I thought you were reading along. You were listening to music and reading? I need to work out with you. You are so in shape. If I read a book and got on the eliptical would I look like you?" He had me rolling!! He was great! He told everyone and the more "blood in his alcohol," the more people he told. I think he and I will be great gym friends!!!! :)

Well, here is my goodnight! Sleep well and dream well, unless Despereaux makes you depressed. Then, just take an Ambien and hope for the best.

An Iranian marries a Frenchman in Southern California and a French mouse is born

Well, Funny in Farsi proved to be heart-warming if anything can be said. I am glad I was able to read the book. The stories are very inspiring. What I learned most from the book is that the smallest actions can wield the biggest heart. I think Firoozeh Dumas has one of the biggest hearts of any autobiographical/biographical authors I have read. She loves her family and that is something to be said. Not many people can recount stories of their ENTIRE family with such warmth. She has the best things to say even about her mother's brother's son's cousin's aunt's daughter's babysitter's mom. It is unbelievable the love this woman has for everyone and the love her family extends. I would like to adopt an Iranian family, preferably hers, for the times I cannot be around my own family. I think one of my goals in life is going to be meeting Dumas and having a chat with her to hear more stories...even though I could read Laughing Without an Accent...but it is almost time to move on to "E" and I am just now starting my Newbery Medal in the "D" week.

Her afterward is great. It is basically a summation of thank yous to her family and friends for their stories and love. She speaks of her family's reaction to her publishing the book. My favorite part is her father's reaction to her sales rank on "Amahzone." He sees her at 1.5 million and thinks that is how many copies she has sold prior to the book being released. So many moments of beauty find their way to the surface in this story. She says her father often searches the internet to find articles/stories/biographies on her. I hope he finds my thoughts on her and realizes, even more, what a wonderful person he raised.

The most heart-warming component of the final part I read was about an earthquake she experienced in San Francisco. While looking for a phone with a dial tone, she found a scared elderly neighbor and comforted her. Each year after that, the Eastern European woman would show up at her apartment with a chocolate bundt cake to thank her between sobs for saving her life. Life throws so many obstacles at us and we never realize who we touch.

Please read Funny in Farsi if anything just for a good laugh, but there is much more to be found buried within the meanings of each word.

As I move from an Iranian married to a Frenchman in Southern California, I have found a mouse named Despereaux. Kate DiCamillo won the 2003 Newbery Medal for her book The Tale of Despereaux, also known as The Tale of Desperaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup, and a Spool of Thread. She is the author of many award-winning chidren's books; Because of Winn-Dixie (2000), The Tiger Rising (2001), The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (2006) and The Magician's Elephant (2009) are her other books. She has also written the Mercy Watson series for younger readers. DiCamillo (an Italian) was born March 25, 1964 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She moved to Florida at the age of five to recover from pneumonia. In 1986, she obtained a degree in English from the University of Florida. She moved to Minneapolis and started working for a book warehouse. This was the inspiration for her writing. She met a representative from Candlewick Press and now we know her as Kate DiCamillo, author.

The Tale of Despereaux is about a mouse born to a French mouse mother and a father of British mouse lineage. The story was inspired by DiCamillo's best friend's son, Luke, who wanted her to write a story about an unlikely hero. We then ended up with Despereaux. Now, I will have to say, I made it through 83 pages of the book in about 30 minutes (and this was not from treadmill dancing which I did with Funny earlier today burning about 400 calories). I was sitting on my bed reading, texting and Facebook messaging. But trust me, I did concentrate on the book. I have read through it and I am legitimately at page 83 with a full comprehension of what I read (my brain is clear tonight thanks to my friend Justin and the fact that I scored a free entry to Mister 312 spa downtown and got a paraffin hand wax, hand massage and haircut clean-up...and btw...the girl massaging my hands LOVES Myrtle Beach, SC and says she LOVES sweet tea and anything Southern and Southern people. She rocked.). Ok, back from the parenthetical expressions. Despereaux is not a story one should read after a really fun day or after feeling really good. This is the type of story that requires anti-depressants.
From the beginning, we learn of a self-centered pair of mice, Antoinette and Lester, that being a mouse apparently comes with standards. Despereaux Tilling is the only mouse to survive out of Antoinette's last litter. She is sure he is going to die. She is such a schadenfreude mess. So she names him a name representing many despairs. Despereaux does indeed survive (no shit or we wouldn't have the book) but has many "flaws" for a mouse. He is too small, his ears are too big, he doesn't look for crumbs, he doesn't like to eat paper, blah, blah, blah. I feel like Goldilocks is about to take him for a ride to find the most suitable mouse. Well, his family treats him like garbage. His brother Furlough and his sister Merlot degrade him. Despereaux is told he is a nothing and such a waste. Even his parents are so degrading and tell him what a failure he is as a mouse (remember, do not read if you are feeling good. In fact, do not read if you are feeling bad). The pictures of him are really cute and you hurt for him while reading. Well, to make a long story short, Despereaux loves the things we take for granted. He loves stained glass colored light, he loves reading, especially Once Upon a Time stories.

One day, he hears King Philip playing music on his guitar for Princess Pea. He is enchanted and ends up coming out of the wall and sits right in front of them. Startled, the Princess looks at him and opens her heart to him. She asks the near-sighted King to play a song for him. The king says it would be too "topsy-turvy" to play a song for "bug," but he does anyway. Then Despereaux gets pet on the head by Pea. And THEN...the NO NO. He talks. The king tells him to get off and stomps at him. The Princess is sad about this. As Despereaux runs off, he tells her his name and how he will honor her. He is in love with Pea. Unfortunately, his brother Furlough is witness to this non-mouse behaviour. Furlough tells their parents and Lester holds a meeting with the Mouse Council. They decide they will have a hearing for Despereaux for his crimes of being touched and talking to a human. When they meet with him, they decide to send him to the dungeon to be killed by the rats. Furlough is one of the "executioners" assigned to him. Antoinette is sad and simply wishes him adieu. *PS...I love the occasional code-switch from English to French. Despereaux is thrown into the darkness of the dungeon and is discovered and saved by a prisoner Gregory (a human). The human recognizes he was sent down to die because of red thread tied around his neck. Gregory says he will have Despereaux tell him a story in order to save his life...this is where I left off at the end of Book 1: A Mouse is Born.

I do see how this is a Newbery. It has the elements of emotion and real-life dealings that are major topics for kids. I am enjoying DiCamillo's attention to Despereaux's detailed environment. I just wish people were nicer to him!!!

The Tale of Despereaux was released as an animated film in 2008. Click on Despereaux for the preview. I am not sure how close the book and movie are related. The movie looks too happy. BUTTTTTTT...Emma Watson, aka Hermione and her hot self, is a voice in the movie! ;)
Today was a great day. I got a lot accomplished. I feel good about life. I had a great hang-out session and ran many errands. I have a pic to share of the beauty of Rogers Park right outside my bedroom window during the Fall. It is a vastly different scene from the snowy one right now.
Have a lovely night!!! :)

Funny that we think alike

Well, one more day of reading to go before finishing Farsi. Today, after a very slow day of reading (I feel like I am doing badly at this), I managed to get to page 140. Now, for a lot of people, this is incredibly fast reading, to me, this is slow (as molasses as a true Southern gentleman would say). The book is only 198 pages long, so the last 50 should not take too long for me to read. I have been tired a lot lately and I really don't know why; the tiredness has come with general aches, as well (for about 4 weeks now). My friend Rob, a nurse practitioner, thinks I should get a mono test tomorrow. I am thinking that is a good idea.

A couple of highlights came about in the book for me today. (This probably won't be a long blog because I am tired, so you MUST read this book to see the elaboration on them.) The first was in a chapter titled Treasure Island. The chapter offers a very introspective look on life; it helps define what is "treasure" in life to each person. Some people value wealth, others value experience. I think I fall under the experience, even though a little money does not hurt. Dumas reflects on her father's obsession with the 1934 film, Treasure Island. He had always wanted to find a treasure in his life and he did: the Fullbright Scholarship. Her father reveled in this dream and actually accomplished it despite people's negativity (don't you love how people bash you when they are jealous and try to tell you something is not going to work out? Mine would be when I moved to Chicago...people tried pushing every excuse on me as to why I should not go...and of course this was not everyone...I have a very supportive family). When he got over here, he went to Texas A&M. On Easter Break, he was taken to New Jersey by a couple of professors. They were going to meet up with an old professor of theirs and thought Dumas' father, Kazem, should meet him. This professor was Albert Einstein. The ultimate treasure for her father was meeting Einstein. This makes me think of how I would react. I don't care about meeting celebrities at all. I care about meeting the artists, intellectuals, musicians and authors. Yes, I did meet Ozzy Osborne two weeks ago, but it did not phase me even though it was an awesome experience. My most AWESOME meeting of a celebrity lasted for about 2 minutes. I was fortunate enough to meet (and most people would just roll their eyes at me) Audrey Niffenegger. Now, for any of you who do not know, she is probably my most favorite author; she wrote The Time Traveler's Wife and Her Fearful Symmetry. I have ALWAYS wanted to meet her since reading The Time Traveler's Wife. Well, fortunately, she shops in my Barnes and Noble. Part of the reason: I work with her sister. Her sister is one of the kindest women I have ever met and I love talking to her and engaging in conversation with her. She is so down to earth and I feel like I can talk about anything interesting with her (even though we have only known each other since October and see each other only when we are scheduled together). One day, I walked into work and saw her sister, B. I wanted to start talking to her, but she immediately said "She's over there, go talk to her." I was like "What?" B said "My sister, Audrey, she's over there. Talk to her." Well, my heart sank as I turned and saw Audrey Niffenegger standing right next to me. Now as you all know, I am NEVER short of words. NEVER. My store manager at Barnes probably wouldn't believe me at this part of the story. I could not think of what to say to this towering woman and her cranberry colored hair! I was just too overwhelmed. I wanted to say so many things to her. I recommend The Time Traveler's Wife to everyone. All I could muster was "Your book was amazing, as I know you hear all the time. I read it a couple of years ago before anyone was highly publicizing it and fell in love with it. I recommended it to everyone I know. Your book made me want to read more and encouraged me to read a lot (which it really did)." She amazed me at her humbleness. I just had to go away because I was actually shaky. I met the one person I always wanted to meet. I hope one day I can actually have a REAL conversation with her like I can with her sister. If they are anything alike, I know it will be meaningful.

The next funny moment in Farsi today was reading the Girls just wanna have funds chapter. Dumas described all of her various part-time jobs she has had. I think she and I could be in a competition to see who has had more. Currently, I win. Barnes, Gap and Lyric Opera. HAHA. Actually, she was doing a lot of babysitting and house sitting for psychos...so she probably wins. All I ever did was cat sit and water plants for my wonderful neighbors in South Carolina. My parents are now professional cat sitters since I am in Illinois.

The most meaningful moments in the book were reflections of Iranian family, holidays (Nowruz) and cultural ideals. She has such a splendid storytelling method.

Well nothing much to report from the real life...except, today we had an earthquake here in Chicago and yesterday we had 14 inches of snow. Go figure. Bienvenido a Chicago. What an intriguing place. Gotta love it and I do. :) The first pic below is of half of my windshield still under a thick layer of snow...just have to show some of the depth.
This pic is of my car next to Mt. Everest in the parking lot at work. Although the pile does not look high, it is over twice the height of my car and well over the length.
So this is the time of the week where I announce next week. I can barely keep my eyes open right now so this is going to be quick. For my E week:

What is the What? by Dave Eggers will be my choice for adult fiction.
My children's book will be a Newbery Honor:
The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes.

Eggers can be bought for $15.95 from Barnes. He is shelved in the Fiction/Literature section. Estes can be bought for $7.00. She is shelved in Juvie Fiction. Estes is the name of the street I live on...ok, the crossroad. Originally, I was going to read a different "E" book, not to be confused with an e-book, but we had to be buttholes and zone everything before inventory at Barnes and of COURSE the book I wanted to read for "E" was due-out. UGH. Oh well, I will catch another of its genre.

Well folks, it is time for me to slumber: ie. watch Netflix until I crash.

A demain (Dumas speaks of being fluent in French and has a story about a summer in France because of Alliance Francaise, a scholarship in which I had. I figured I would give a French tribute to you as you sleep.).

Bons reves mes amis.

The "R Word"

Currently, I am nearing page 100 of my Iranian treasure. The vignettes are priceless in Farsi. Although I am not as far into the book as I had hoped by this evening, I am enjoying savoring the time I have spent with it. Once again, as I stated yesterday, Dumas' words are delicious. She is the epitome of schadenfreude meets Sykes, Griffin and Lampanelli. I would have to say Jeanette Walls' The Glass Castle and Dumas' Funny in Farsi rank as the best autobiographical sketches I have read. Now there is a big reason for this: neither write about life altering experiences (which reminds me I have had so many of those according to my friend Justin b/c of the ling lings and chili I was served and the Thai restaurant I ate at last week). The topics they write about stem from the everyday human experience. I am beginning to believe that it is no longer about what you have experienced in terms of greatness that matters in writing, it is your ability to write extremely well about the small things that have happened that complete the bigger picture.

Out of all of my reading today, one vignette stands out in particular. I laugh because it applies to my family name. Dumas describes her experiences growing up and having to tolerate no one knowing how to pronounce her name. Her first was impossible so people would not even attempt her last. She was called things like Frizzy and Froozy, Fritzy and Fiorucci, but never Firoozeh. So, she decided at the age of 10 to change her name to the Americanized Julie. Julie was easy to remember and she never had to correct anyone on the pronunciation. Now, my last name has wielded things such as Rodent, Rodin (this is where my name descends...Hyacinth Bucket would love being the descendant of a great sculptor...but not the French), Roodeen, Rotten, Roland, Rodney, Rodman (I told you we were related), Rodham (she is my mom) and a plethora of others. Many of these names have come from the tele-marketing bullshitters, but some have also come from my students.

Probably my favorite last name story comes from teaching Company Show Choir last year. One of my students walked up to me and said "Hey, P-Rod, I have a question." Everyone immediately shut their mouths (hard to do for a choir of 40 adolescent girls) and looked up. The girl caught what she said and did one of those suck air in quickly/startled breaths and looked at me like a deer in headlights. The rest of the choir, in unison, said "EEEEWWWWWWWW." They all caught on that my name sounds like a porn star when said like that. But ya know what? It stayed. Students, faculty, staff and administrators all called me that for the rest of the year.

Maybe that is not as exciting as Firoozeh's name change, but it is still good. An introspective moment does follow afterward, though. She speaks of how people never questioned her about being Iranian when she changed her name to Julie. In fact, they never even thought of her as being Iranian. Problems started to rise when people would openly bash Iranians around her because they never suspected her of being Iranian (she described her skin color as being "porcelain"). She decided she was only lying to herself and went back to Firoozeh for school in Berkeley where she met her husband Francois and realized how easy he had it being French versus her Iranian self.

The funniest comment made from the whole name text was how a mom at her elementary school gave up on learning her name. She was simply referred to as the "F Word" from then out.

My two cents: I am pissed that no one learns names or has the patience. This is where xenophobia comes in. Let's Americanize everything because we are afraid of names, too. Last year, I taught students of every nationality. One class alone had 11 nationalities mixed in alone (Pakistan, Ireland, England, Poland, El Salvador, Spain, Japan, Zimbabwe, Argentina, India and Taiwan). Although some of their names were so hard to pronounce (especially the Polish), I managed to do it. A name is something sacred. It is who we are. If someone doesn't have the patience to learn your name, then they don't have the patience to respect you. We are tied to our names. They are just as much of a part of us as our body, mind and spirit.

I also love Dumas' description of her father cheating time share opportunities. He would attend "seminars" just to receive free stuff. HAHA. She also talked about frequent vacations to Las Vegas as a child. There was also a vignette on learning how to swim and how she milked not being able to for everything it was worth.

This is such a good read.

Today, after the gym, my friend Brian (friend and workout partner from time to time) and I took the bus home. Mind you, this is the 147 bus. Begins in Rogers Park. One simple word: characters. From the beginning of the bus ride (right at the Bosworth stop...Bosworth is right next to the Rogers/Howard/Greenleaf intersection) a man stepped on the bus. You know how you have a moment where you think "OH GOD...please don't let him sit next to me" moments? Well, I had one of those and told Brian to start talking to me. I was sitting in an area that made it easy for him to sit next to me if he wanted. The man was so FRICKIN obnoxious and loud. Now, I know I am loud and obnoxious at times, well a lot of times, but this is PT for the love. He got on and started flirting with every woman on the bus and was LOUD as HELL. Well, finally, he did what I prayed for to NOT happen. He sat next to me. As I was engaged in conversation with Brian, I could hear the man talking/flirting/being obnoxious to this beautiful young girl. When he finished talking to her, he turned to me and said "Where you from? You Russian or somethin? I hear and accent." Point 1) Was this man Sarah Palin secretly disguised as a Chicago citizen? 2) Is he deaf? 3) Why Russian? 4) Do I look foreign...Does Brian look foreign (I guess you have to see a pic of Brian to know). Answers: 1) Probably, you never know what that dumbass is up to and she can apparently sense them from miles away. 2) Probably. He talked so damned loud it probably blew his eardrums out at some time and everyone else's on the bus (including mine). 3) Maybe it is the skin/eye color. 4) We do look European, yes, but a lot of us light-skinned-no summer tan people yet look like that...and we have good haircuts and dress nicely (even though we were in gym clothes). Well, he was startled when I said no. He said "Where you stay?" Ok. Stay. Really? How about live? Where do you live? I said "I LIVE in Rogers Park." "Well where you from?" I said "I am from South Carolina and live in Chicago now." Brian said "I am originally from Texas and live up here now, too." The man said "Well I thought you was Russian or somethin. Are you sure you weren't speakin in no accent." Did we have to clear it up again? Wasn't the fact that we said no ONCE enough? No. "Wellden I must have been blinded by this young woman's beauty and thought I heard you speakin in some differnt (yes, differnt) language." What a tool. He was dressed like one, too. Sorry to that girl, too. Wherever you are, I hope you had a peaceful ride home, although I doubt it. Like I said, pretty sure he was not Sarah Palin, although Chicago weather conditions today probably looked like those of Alaska.

This morning, I woke to SNOW. It is still snowing even as I write right now. I think by the time it is over we are supposed to have a foot. We finally got our big snow this year. I walked to the gym...a mile in it...to show my dedication. Now I can share stories of walking a mile in the snow to get somewhere with elderly. Oh and btw...if you are a resolutioner, stop going to the gym, I want my equipment back...and if you invent exercises, you need to stop b/c it takes up too much room. AND, if you are not doing my prescribed amount of weight, then you need to move on.

This is a picture from early this morning. The lake is behind the trees. Good luck finding it because it has been an ice sheet the past few days.
One last bit of info that made me really excited!! Costa Rica just voted their first ever female president: Laura Chinchilla!!!!!!! LOVE IT. This is me congratulating her.
Have a wonderful night! :)

I ran. Some business. A music note. And goodbye.

So, as you know, the book I have begun for my "D" week is Funny in Farsi by Firoozeh Dumas. Dumas was born in Abadan, Iran in 1965. Her family moved to the United States for 2 years in 1972 as her father was working with an American petroleum company. Her father spent his time entertaining the family with stories of his time in America when he was a Fulbright Scholar. After the two years in America, her family moved back to Iran only to return two years later. Dumas attended UC Berkeley and married a Frenchman. Funny in Farsi has received much acclaim since its publishing date in 2003. Dumas was the first Middle Eastern woman to be recognized as an honor for the Thurber Prize for American Humor; she lost to Jon Stewart. The book is on Recommended Reading Lists for many schools across the country. Dumas has three children and has been married since 1989. Funny in Farsi is on the bestselling lists in Iran. She has a website: Firoozeh Dumas. And btw...ABC is doing a pilot episode of Funny in Farsi.
Today, I managed to read up to about page 40 of Funny in Farsi. I had many laugh out loud moments whilst doing my thing on the eliptical at Bally. I am sure someone has video of me (probably a treadmill dancer). Dumas is someone I can compare my writing style to: witty, sarcastic...some schadenfreude mixed in, as well. I feel like I could be her friend. The opening of the book begins with her talking briefly about her brother coming to America: I, too, had been sad at Farid's departure, but my sorrow soon faded-not coincidentally, with the receipt of a package from him. Suddenly, having my brother on a different continent seemed like a small price to pay for owning a Barbie complete with a carrying case and four outfits, including the rain gear and mini umbrella. Reading this one little excerpt made me realize I am in love with her. From there, it just gets funnier and funnier. I feel like she describes life the way I describe life and probably looks at life with a mouth full of running commentary.

She describes how her father and mother see things in America and how the language barrier for them is pretty funny for her to watch. The book unfolds as the reader gets to watch how an Iranian family transforms into an "American" and becomes part of the culture. She takes you on a journey through product fads, fast food, American ignorance (Where is Iran? We have never heard of that? I have seen Lawrence of Arabia), school and of course, Disneyland. Disneyland serves as a Mecca for her family. She speaks of having gone 15 times in the first two years she was in the United States. The last time she talks about it, she speaks of getting lost and how she got to milk her father for whatever she wanted after that occurrence (Stephanie H...if you are reading...you might take note of this).

The book has been a quick read. I have not invested much time in reading it at all and I am zipping through. Once I am finished with my 26 week span of books, I will have to read the next book, Laughing Without an Accent. I feel as though I need to present this book to my graduate class during our Methods of Teaching ESL classes. I am sure some of the children we are learning to teach will have some of the same life adventures as Firoozeh.

Now...down to some business and I am sorry to be bitchy. But this is where it needs to go. NO. I am NOT Julie Powell. This blog is not Julie and Julia. If I were Julie Powell, I would have boobs...some people would say I do, but those are called pectorals. I would also be cooking a two recipes a day from Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. I would also be rich, have a movie and not working for Barnes and Noble (even though I probably would). Now, if you would like to fund me on this blog, go right ahead. If you would like to "discover" me or have me "discovered" be sure to tell your friends about me. But, I AM NOT JULIE POWELL. If you want her, here is her website...go on...click on it...you know you want to: Julie/Julia Project. I would also have a donations button on the side of my page. Now, some people have simply mentioned Julie/Julia to me in jest. There was nothing catty meant about it...others had bitchmonster written all over the tone of their voices.
Let me break it down. I am reading 26 books. ONLY 26. The blog would begin with 17 million books, 26 weeks, 26 authors if I were to read EVERY book like Julie cooked EVERY recipe. No. I am reading 26. 26 weeks. If I were Julie, I would be doing 52 WEEKS. Her premises was all recipes over one year. 26 authors. There are more than 26 authors out there. Now the only thing SLIGHTLY reminiscent about Julie/Julia is that I am trying to read my fair share of award winning kids books off to the side of my regulars.

So, for all of you accusers, I am sorry you are jealous. I am just trying to do something fun that will make me smarter. I am not trying to rip Julie Powell. :(

Today at work, music was given to me that I had signed up for...the whole in-store play thing. I ended up with Michael Buble's Crazy Love album and Michael James Battle's Chopin After Midnight. As I was driving home from B&N, I decided to listen to the Battle CD. There are things that I cannot describe that made me so happy whilst listening to his CD. People are trained to hear music. Instruments, voices, whatever. No one ever listens for the music that lies in between the notes; this is my favorite part. Sometimes you hear the conductor/performers breathe. The whole orchestra turns a page at once. The sound of fingers coming off of piano keys. Sax valves sticking ever so slightly after being pressed down. The sounds we make as performers make recordings so real. I love it. It becomes one of those moments when you realize the performer is human. Take an opportunity to listen to Glenn Gould play Bach's Goldberg Variations...or any music for that matter. You will get more than you bargain for with a recording by Gould.

Last but not least, I would like to say a little goodbye. This is not a goodbye forever by any means...it is just a goodbye. Dena, one of our wonderful Merch Managers, is transferring to State/Elm B&N next week. She will be missed so much in the store. I told the GM today that I was losing my singing partner. Oh well...it is now up to Susan and me to entertain. Dena, I know you will read this! Thank you for making everything so much fun at double O squared! Here is a pic of Dena and me at Halloween (to the side...and yes...I am naked again. Whatevs.

Oh...and one side note...hahaha. I told my GM I would go to State/Elm to entertain Dena and hope the store would not find out I worked at Old Orchard. Well, she told me that Evanston B&N manager called her the other week to say that I was talking to one of his employees, my friend John. Now mind you 1) John was working hard. 2) It was not hours of convo. 3) We were just catching up quickly and 4) I always get in trouble for talking (this is the fourth time it has been brought to my attention at B&N and my Gap managers say I talk too much). She asked if she needed to describe me to figure out if it was me or not and she did to a tee and he said it was me. She thinks he has a crush. HA. She told him that he could ask me to leave if I was getting in the way, but I WAS NOT. I know John was doing his work. Well...hopefully he won't connect me with the PI that works there...cause we are friends, too. Sorry, John, if you got in trouble.

Bedtime. It's snowing. Tomorrow.

One door closes, another opens...leaving Grand Rapids and heading to Southern California

Tonight, I finished reading Bud, Not Buddy. I am not even going to give away anything other than the fact that Bud made it to Grand Rapids, Michigan to meet up with his "father" Herman E. Calloway. Such a wonderful story follows shortly thereafter (although the whole book is wonderful).

I have been truly impressed by this Newbery Award winner. You must read it. I think it took about a total of three hours of combined reading to finish it. If you are a fast reader, then it might take even less time to read.

Tomorrow, I am heading to Southern California (in a book) to join up with Firoozeh Dumas in Funny in Farsi. I am looking forward to reading her autobiography. Tomorrow night, I will have a little biographical sketch and beginning review of the book posted.

Today, the Saints won the Superbowl. Nice job. I was at work dealing with the fact that people called off and I was not able to go to the Superbowl party I wanted to go to, but that is ok. I got my hangout time afterwards!

Have a wonderful evening. Time to write a graduate paper.

OH P.S. and BTW!!! There is a parody about Sarah Palin's Going Rogue book titled Going Rouge. I have been contemplating on reading Going Rogue for sometime just to see what the ditz has to say about Russia. Now, I am thinking I MUST read it and then read Going Rouge. It is like Meyers' Twilight...full of crap, but a parody has been written about it titled Nightlight.