50 Books in 2011: Eyes Like Stars

Book #36 of 2011: Eyes Like Stars (Theatre Illuminata, Act I) by Lisa Mantchev.

A friend recommended this to me and when it came in at the library and I judged it by its cover, I was a little worried, but it turned out to be pretty cool: the main character, Beatrice, lives in a theatre, surrounded by characters. And by characters I mean characters from plays--Hamlet, Macbeth, Midsummer Night's Dream, Peter Pan, the Little Mermaid...

I enjoyed the premise and where she went with it quite a bit. Even after I've started another book, I keep thinking back on it and/or wishing I were still reading it. Unfortunately, the ending didn't wrap things up as nicely as I would have liked, but that's because like every teen lit book I end up reading, it has become a series of at least 3. Unsurprisingly, the second one is on hold at the library for me.

50 Books in 2011: Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows

Book #35 of 2011: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. Rowling, by the way, is pronounced like rolling, which I know mostly due to a friend whose last name rhymes with the improper pronunciation used by most people. You'd think people would have learned this after 7 books and soon-to-be 8 movies, but, no.


Reading this was a lot like reading it for the first time (I have a lousy memory unless I've read something more than once or very recently) and I definitely was hooked on it. I'd been a little worried that it'd be hard to get through, since I remembered some of the more depressing bits, but I often had trouble putting it down.

It works pretty well as a finale; I have no major complaints with it. Obviously, I'd rather some deaths hadn't occurred, but it would be a bit, yes, "unrealistic", if everyone had made it.

Random thoughts:

I wanted Harry to kill Bellatrix while invisible, but Molly getting to kick some ass is cool, too.

Love the maturation of Neville Longbottom.

Still miss Sirius.

Love you, Snape. You too, Alan Rickman.

Stick-Figure Story Time: the Work Bathroom

Generally, the bathroom at work is not too bad--most of the "public" only end up on the floor below mine, so it's not a super high-traffic area and it's cleaned frequently and whatnot. The first time I used it, however, I noticed the signs on each stall door saying not to dispose of...feminine hygiene products...in the toilets and I thought, "Why would anyone do that?" / "Who would do that?"

Unfortunately, apparently someone or someones definitely does that. I still don't know who or why.

Aside from wondering why anyone would think that that's a reasonable thing to do, I'm also just surprised to see anything floating in the toilet. Because, you see, our toilets automatically flush. And, uh, let's just say that, from what I've seen, they do a pretty good job at it.

Not only do they automatically flush, but I have had them automatically flush before I've even started using them, while I am in the midst of using them, and after I've already finished and started to walk away.

So, in addition to not understanding the who or why, I also don't understand how.

Aaaanyway, even more baffling was this:

I go into the bathroom and head for a stall. This is what I see:

If not for the splashes on top, I'd have gone ahead and used it anyway, buuuuut I didn't feel like dealing with that, so, I headed to a second stall, and saw THIS:

And then my head exploded. Okay, not really, I just used that one anyway, but still, what the hell?!?

How did one person manage to pee in the first toilet and get it NOT to flush and also apparently NOT use any toilet paper. Meanwhile, another person managed to fill the second toilet with toilet paper but NOT any urine? Or, was it ONE person who somehow managed to pee in one toilet, scuttle to the other to wipe, and then, miraculously somehow set off NEITHER toilet's flushing sensor?!?

I call alien(s).

Or ninja(s).

Or dude(s) with long stream(s).

50 Books in 2011: Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

Book #34 of 2011: Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami.

I picked up this book because I appreciate Murakami and felt I should read more of his work. Then, I was reluctant to start it because I knew it would be more work than some of the other things I've been reading--when I first opened the book, I noticed that the opening pages contained a map. My reaction (on Twitter, of course): "Uh-oh. There's a map at the beginning. Books w/ maps ain't nothin' to fuck with."

While reading this book on the train, I was tapped on the shoulder by someone sitting in the seat behind me, who rather excitedly asked if it was, indeed, Murakami. He said he saw the "end of the world" at the top of the page and thought it had to be. So, in addition to having a friend who loves the book, apparently this stranger on the train loves it so much that he decided to interact with me pretty much just to say how good it is.

More than once, also while reading it on the train, I ran into acquaintances, who then asked what I was reading and "what it's about". The first time, I didn't even try to explain the plot. The second time, I tried, but felt as though I fell quite short of any sort of satisfactory or sensible explanation. Then again, a sensible explanation may not be possible.

But, this is one thing that I particularly appreciate about Murakami (I have read 4 of this other books--Kafka on the Shore, After Dark, Sputnik Sweetheart, and What I Talk About When I Talk About Running). His books always have an extraordinary amount of creativity that, yes, makes them difficult or impossible to explain, but also makes for interesting and exciting stories. Even when I don't fully understand what is going on, I tend not to mind because there is a feeling that somehow it just all works.

So, yes, my brain had to do more work than it had to do with, say, Michael Showalter, but, it was totally worth it.

Filming in the Gaps: Fast Times at Ridgemont High

Since I was roughly 0 years old when this film came out, I suppose it's not a surprise that I'd never seen it. However, I felt it was about time. Especially since Heckerling's other films include perpetual favorites (for me) Look Who's Talking and Clueless.

Though I think this would have been better if it were closer to my own generation (like Clueless, I suppose), I still enjoyed it. I already knew a fair bit about the Sean Penn portion of the plot due to pop culture references, but somehow never heard much about the fairly casual

[SPOILER ALERT]

abortion thing where the main downside to having an abortion is that the a-hole you slept with won't pay for half of it or drive you to the clinic. Granted, the fact that he wouldn't pay for half and ditched her as her ride to the clinic DOES totally suck, but I'm surprised she wasn't more upset by the rest of the ordeal.

My high school life was definitely not like that of any of the characters in this movie, but that's definitely okay, both for my life and the film.

50 Books in 2011: Mr. Funny Pants

Book #33 of 2011: Mr. Funny Pants by Michael Showalter.

It's never really clear what this book is supposed to be, aside from amusing. Maybe I should not have expected anything else from Michael Showalter, but, I think I wanted it to be essays or life stories or...something. It was not those things, but I will give it that it was, in fact, amusing. Well, parts of it, anyway.

I think that some humor is more easily carried out in a stand-up or sketch scenario because even if it is slightly predictable, your brain can't do that predicting fast enough to really care when someone is in the middle of a joke. When I'm reading a predictable joke, however, I have plenty of time to ruminate on a) the punchline that I think is coming and then b) how I totally saw that punchline coming. "Oh, I bet he's going to...Yep. He's doing that...Okaaaaay."

And, if that sort of thing is happening, and there's no greater structure to the book, then you've just read a flat joke and have nothing else to fall back on. (Same for long/draggy jokes, etc.)

I think this is the main problem with the book. I had similar issues with This is a Book by Demetri Martin.

That being said, however, I did legitimately laugh several times while reading it.

And was only mildly miffed that two-ish chapters were taken from his stand-up album.

Dear Casey Anthony

I've seen a few Today Show segments about your trial and my main question is this: How do you expect me to believe anything you say when you used to claim that your child was taken by your nanny..."Zanny"?

Didn't you get the memo that you're supposed to make things up by looking at your surroundings and piecing words together from what you see in the room, not by changing ONE letter from the thing you're supposed to be naming?

Wow. Just wow.

It almost makes me believe you're dumb enough to have decided not to tell anyone after your child accidentally drowned and think it'd just work out somehow.

Almost.

50 Books in 2011: the Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

Book #32: the Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender.

This was a nice, quick read. Much less tear-inducing than my last few reads, though I'll admit I still teared up a time or two. But, it's me, so that's no surprise. It's narrated by Rose, who we join from age 9 to early adulthood. On her ninth birthday, Rose discovers a new "talent": she can taste the emotions of whoever has made her food. Unfortunately, there are a lot of negative emotions in much of her food: neediness, loneliness, desperation. Though Rose turns to the emotional blandness of factory-made food as much as possible, she can't completely escape her mother's cooking, which is full of complicated things that young Rose should not have to think about.

As often happens, I would have liked a few relationships in the story to turn out differently, but, that does not mean that that would have made a better story.

I won't say I couldn't put it down, but when I did, I was always eager to pick it back up.

50 Books in 2011: the Art of Racing in the Rain

Book #31 of 2011: the Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein.

I really did not know what I was getting into here. I heard "it's narrated by a dog" and did not imagine that that would lead to so much sadness. I feel as though at least half of the chapters made me either tear up or actually cry for one reason or another. Plus, it picked up where the Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks left off in the making-me-even-more-scared-of-cancer vein, this time with additional fear of evil in-laws!

Despite my failure to appreciate all the allusions to auto racing and the fairly constant sadness I felt while reading it, it was worth the read. Some of the plot points were predictable, and some were just plain spelled out ahead of time by our canine narrator, but somehow that didn't matter much, because I was still emotionally invested.

50 Books in 2011: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

Book #30 of 2011: the Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot.

I've been hearing about this book pretty much everywhere--my friend Chris suggested it to me; NPR has discussed it; and my workplace is having a discussion about it sometime this month. And honestly, if I hadn't heard so much buzz about it, I never would have picked it up--science is the one subject that I could never really get or get into.

Luckily, the scientific aspect is somewhat overshadowed by the human interest aspect--basically, a few decades ago, Henrietta Lacks had a tough life ended by cervical cancer at a young age, doctors took samples of her cells, and those cells kept on growing and reproducing through today. At this point, no other cells had ever been able to do this, so tons and tons of research was done using the cells--among many other things, they were helpful in mapping human DNA.