Clean

I returned “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” today. I knew it was time when I thought about going to the library to get four! new! books! and got disproportionately excited while simultaneously glaring at Michael Pollan’s masterpiece with the fisheye. It is the first book I’ve given up on in YEARS. YEARS. IF EVER. It’s been abandoned in favor of a glorious selection including Margaret Atwood, Jane Hamilton, Marian Keyes and Curtis Sittenfeld. It’s taking everything I have in me right now not to run upstairs and gobble them all up like ice cream, because I’ve missed reading, and it goes to show what a colossal, gigantic dork I am that I don’t feel WHOLE if I’m not actively reading something. It also means that I am great fun at parties and ALSO pity people who aren’t Readers. Which brings me to … is anyone here not a reader? And if not, what do you do instead? AND HOW DO YOU SURVIVE?

Randomly, Lawyerish has the corner on All Things Little House On The Prairie, but it is perhaps lesser known that I, too, had an overwhelming desire to be some sort of pioneer girl after reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s iconic series, but what is perhaps most important is that I had a crush on Laura’s husband, Almanzo Wilder — who was better known as Farmer Boy from the eponymous novel — and even more importantly, I recently discovered he was hot, which means that my embarrassing habit of cultivating crushes on fictional characters (which Almanzo was, kind of, for me) is not entirely misguided. For reference, crushes I have harbored over the years include: Henry from the “Time Traveler’s Wife” (the only reason I liked the book, really. I LOVE Henry), Lawrence Selden from “The House of Mirth” and — perhaps most notably — Greg, from Scooby Doo. I used to um, kiss my pillow pretending it was Greg (Edited: FRED. FRED. HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO WRONG? FREEEEDDDD.). Before I even knew what kissing was.

Speaking of Lawyerish, I booked my ticket for a certain upcoming event involving presents and an impending arrival of a BABY, and I am BESIDE MYSELF. (Hint: THERE WILL BE CUPCAKES.) This is sort of symbolic for a few reasons, not the least of which is that I’m getting on a flight that will be, like, AN HOUR instead of four, and I’m going to see her, one of my very favorite people in the whole world. Ah, Florida. You have rekindled my appreciation for short-distance flights.

In fact, until yesterday, I’d planned to drive, if for no other reason than I COULD, And then — HA HA — I thought about driving through Manhattan and ending up in Teaneck, NJ, which is PRECISELY what happened the last time I attempted to drive to New York City. I ended up lost and disoriented sporting a bladder so full that I actually thought it was going to explode. It wasn’t until YONKERS that I finally found relief, in the form of a double-park in front of a Hilton and the kindness of a bellhop who took pity on my whimpering face. Also, yes, I totally ended up in Yonkers when I was heading for Manhattan. Yes. Hello, Orbitz, thank you for helping me avoid disaster.

Also, before I forget: ha ha HA HA! People think Rachael Ray was wearing some kind of TERRORIST SYMBOL. HA HA HA. IN A DUNKIN DONUTS AD. Dear Extreme Right Wing Nutters: SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP.

And with that, I’m off to scour more toilets. My parents are coming on Thursday, after several days of “Will they or won’t they? And when?” and, like all good children, I go OUT OF MY MIND with the cleaning, like they’re going to be eating sushi off of our toilets with a chaser of sake off of the shower head. This also means that posting may be light this week, although Thursday I will be conducting a guest stint at one of the lovely blogs on my sidebar, but not here.

Have an awesome week.

*Depeche Mode, from Violator, which, I’m sorry, is their best album ever.

46 comments May 27th, 2008