Flight into Fantasy

Darlings,

I know you look forward eagerly to a new update on this blog, and will no doubt be gnashing your teeth and crying in abject sorrow because last week and this week are midterm weeks, which means that I haven’t had much brain power for anything not strictly school-related. This includes reading and, for that matter, scheduling reviews.

Luckily, the Internet provides us with content.

The other day, Marg wrote a post about the Book Blogger’s Hop. Here are the instructions.

Hey book bloggers! Every day I seem to find another book blog that I start following. In the spirit of the Friday Follow, I thought it would be cool to do a Book Blog Hop to give us all bookies a chance to connect and find new blogs that we may be missing out on!

I put my blog down on the list. Have you signed up? I’ve already found several blogs that look like ones I need to add to my feed reader promptly.

In other news, I have been swamped with review requests. (By which I mean, I have 3 that came to me unsolicited and I signed up to review two. I’ve decided to make spring break the week I spend reading these review books, because they all look awesome. More on all of them when the time comes.

Happy New Year!

I still haven’t gotten around to writing up any of the best-of lists for 2009 that I was planning, but since my resolution this year is to blog more, I figured I’d make a post anyway.

I spent New Year’s eve hanging out with friends, one of whom we picked up from the airport. As two of the three of us were blind, we decided it would be fun to visit one of the two theaters in the Kansas City metro area that offers descriptive video and see what was playing. Which meant we ended up flummoxing the poor theater staff who didn’t even know descriptive video was available. It also meant we missed about the first 20 minutes of Alvin and the Chipmunks: the Squeakuel. Somehow I had missed the fact that the chipmunks have made a comeback, and, in truth, that particular cultural phenomenon isn’t one I embrace with any kind of enthusiasm. My BFF’s 5-year-old, on the other hand, is an ardent fan of the Chipettes, the three girl chipmunks who, as it turns out, are quite besotted with the original chipmunk brothers.

I can tell you that I liked the movie–at least the part I sat through. I don’t think I would watch it over and over and over, but there were bits I loved. (Including, I must admit, a really nice moment between Theodore and Eleanor, the chipette of his dreams.) That being said, I continue to be gobsmacked by the idea of the chipmunks in high school. I really hope there will not be a third movie, featuring the chipmunks in college, possibly joining a loser fraternity which somehow needs to be saved from disbanding.

Anyway, after the movie, we spent the evening at a New Year’s party where several people we carol with were also in attendance. Instruments were produced, and a jam session broke out. It was a wonderful way to wring in the New Year.

Today, my friends and I hung around together, relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. We watched the Nanny Diaries , about which I find I have considerably less to say. It was entertaining, and I intend to read the book. I also ate my friend’s chicken curry salad, about which I would rhapsodize in great detail if I were any kind of food blogger. And now I’m home, hoping to curl up under my favorite quilt and finish a book which will become my first read of 2010.

I hope all of you were able to have a good time ringing in 2010. I look forward to finding out what the new year brings us!

Today, I’m delighted to get a chance to participate in the 2009 Virtual Advent tour. Please check out the other participants in this great tour, as there are some excellent holiday posts up by some amazing bloggers. Here is my small contribution!

I don’t have many Christmas traditions that other people out there in the world don’t also have. Oh, there are my little private rituals–I like to listen to David Sedaris read “The Santaland Diaries” every year, for example, which probably says something fairly unflattering about me. But other than that? On Christmas Eve I go to my parents’ house, we go to bed early, wake up to open gifts, spend the day being lazy, and then it’s over.

The one thing I do, though, that I think is really special every year is participate in a caroling group. My friend Echo, a retired teacher I met through the blind community, which is small and quite interconnected, has been organizing the caroling trip every year for well over 30 years. Off and on for the past fifteen years, I’ve been in attendance, missing only a couple of years when I was living out of state. (I like to think of those as the Christmases from Hell, but that’s a completely different post.) The number and makeup of the caroling group have changed a lot over the past few years, but I love doing it every year, because there’s something about being in a room with people and singing your hearts out that, despite the logistical nightmares of setting the whole thing up, is extremely magical.

For me, that magic has coincided with several milestones in my life. Firstly, if it hadn’t been for caroling, I wouldn’t have met and become close friends with Echo and her partner. They are both wonderful women who have taught me a lot, women whose grace and dignity I hope I can eventually possess in some small measure.

Secondly, it was at a caroling party that I first made out with my then-boyfriend. I won’t go into details or anything, because I don’t remember them, but I do remember feeling more deeply in love with him in those moments than I think I did the whole rest of the time we were together. In my more wistful moments, I sometimes daydream that someone else will show up at a caroling party, because a small part of me is convinced I will meet my soulmate while my voice joins with others in singing “Joy to the World” or “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Of course, this is not likely to ever happen, because I’ve known most of the people I carol with for years, and I’m sure if they ever thought they should set me up with someone who might be my soulmate, they’d have done so before now and not in such a chaotic setting.

And there is chaos. It all starts the Friday night before caroling, when those of us who live inconveniently far away from Echo converge on her house. The evening is usually spent in making sure we all have sack lunches to take with us, catching up on news and gossip, and eventually, the night is capped off by a rehearsal for those among us who, unlike me, play instruments more complicated than a kazoo. Echo, like me, enjoys surrounding herself with beautiful music, and consequently she knows a lot of musicians, so our carols have some complicated arrangements. (We sing Peter, Paul and Mary’s “A’Soalin’”, which, when you listen to the version Peter, Paul and Mary sing seems deceptively simple. Well, it’s not.) The musicians vary from year to year. This year, we will have two guitarists and a ukulele player. One of the guitarists, a brilliant woman who, in her day job, teaches math, also plays fiddle, flute and mandolin. (I always like to bask in her presence, in hopes that some musical talent beyond a strong and mostly on-pitch singing voice will magically rub off on me. This has yet to happen.) We also usually have someone willing to play keyboard, usually one of our blind musicians who inherited the stereotypical ability people think all blind people have to play music by ear. (I do not have this gift, much to my own dismay. I suppose I should have paid more attention and been more enthusiastic about the piano lessons I was forced into as a child, but I didn’t. *Sigh*.)

After the instrumental rehearsal, we all fall into bed to wake up bright and early on Saturday. Echo traditionally makes a breakfast casserole, which is loaded with more cholesterol and artery-clogging agents than you can shake a stick at. It’s extremely popular, and I have to confess that I don’t like it. (It should also be noted that, while I am not embarrassed to relate that my first makeout session happened at caroling, I admit to not liking the breakfast casserole with a sense of shame. After all, it’s one of those immutable traditions that people enjoy, and, despite what people may or may not think about me, I don’t always like being a killjoy.)

After breakfast and mingling with other carolers who have begun to arrive, we begin a three-hour rehearsal period. This usually doesn’t end up going very smoothly because inevitably someone is late, someone needs directions to where we’re going, and people are focused on catching up with people they haven’t seen since last year’s trip. But we sing through the hard pieces, giving our instrumentalists a chance to practice once more, only with a larger group.

I should say something about our caroling materials. Echo and our other guitarist, a mom and writer by day named Woody, have put together a diverse collection of songs. We have everything from the old chestnuts, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, “Jingle Bells”, “Up on the Housetop”, etc. to more religious fair–”O Come All Ye Faithful”, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, “Joy to the World”, etc. And then there are the other pieces, including the aforementioned “A-Soalin”, as well as “Light One Candle”, another Peter, Paul and Mary song. We also sing a version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” that was arranged by The Weavers, (another 60’s folk group), and a catchy African song called “A Ka Bway La”. (I’m fairly sure that is a phonetic spelling, since when I google that particular spelling in hopes of providing you a youtube link, I get nada.) The nontraditional carols are my favorites, because only at caroling do I get a chance to sing them. Also, as a folk music fan, I love that we’re doing our part to keep obscure songs in circulation.

The actual caroling part of the adventure is fairly standard. We usually hit at least one nursing home. Sometimes we sing for people in hospitals. We’ve sung for little kids, and we’ve sung for homebound friends who find it difficult to get out and join us. (Those types are my favorites because they are genuinely excited to have us sing for them, and are much more engaged with us. The home caroling also gives us a chance to call up people who live too far away to come so that we can sing for them. Thanks to the invention of cell phones, we’ve now found it possible to carol to more than one person at a time this way.)

After the singing, we all troop back to Echo’s house, where her long-suffering partner serves up vats full of chili. People usually bring snacks and side items to go with it, and it’s a grand potluck, which is a great way to cap off the day.

So that’s my holiday tradition, in far more detail than you ever wanted. What are some of yours? Do you have favorite Christmas carols, or odd Christmas songs you like that my caroling group should learn.

P.S. Here are youtube links to a few versions of the songs we sing.

• Light One Candle

• A-Soalin’

And here’s my contribution to our caroling experience. For the love of my bandwidth, I’d appreciate if you’d right click on this file,k hit Save As, and open it on your own system rather than streaming it from mine.

Christmas Morning

So it’s been a crazy week here in Chez Shannon.

Early this week, I resigned from my reviewing commitment at The Good, the Bad and the Unread. I love that I got to review over there, but I didn’t have the time to devote to writing for two blogs in addition to being a full-time student. In addition, I’ve been feeling really burned out on romances lately. I haven’t read one in a while that I thought was a keeper, and I slowly want to ease back into reading them. This happens to me a lot. I’m not meant to be a one-genre reader, and I don’t quite get people who can do that.

I also had a brief struggle to find a way to use Net Galley, which I thought would be a useful resource. But sadly, I was stymied by DRM it is illegal for me to strip which makes the books unreadable. This actually nearly caused me to write up a whiny blog post, before I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. My blog is small potatoes. I’m content with it remaining so, since this is largely something I do for my own enjoyment and I have enough homework. I’d much rather campaign for e-arcs I really want, which is a relatively small number, and read what I want the rest of the time, whether it was recently published or not.

As I posted a few days ago, I’m participating in the Women Unbound challenge. I have several of my books ready to go, and I am excited to participate. I also really love that there’s this whole community on twitter who is doing the challenge, which will make it more fun.

Anyway, there’s an opening meme for the challenge, so here are my answers below.

1. What does feminism mean to you? Does it have to do with the work sphere? The social sphere? How you dress? How you act?

I think it means all of those things. For me, feminism is all about finding our voices and using them, as often as possible and as bluntly as we can. It’s about not being ashamed of those things that make us female, and not participating in shame of others. It’s not about fucking the patriarchy, bringing the man down, or making it so that men can never ever have fun again, which is what people who oppose feminism seem to think it is. I believe there are issues feminists face in the work and social spheres, and I think they’re all important.

2. Do you consider yourself a feminist? Why or why not?

Absolutely I consider myself a feminist. I’ve always found the complications of gender fascinating. And the more I read about the feminist movement, how far it’s come and what still needs work, the more I identify with it. Also, I’m a left-leaning tree-hugging pinko commie liberal, so feminism naturally follows from that. LOL.

3. What do you consider the biggest obstacle women face in the world today? Has that obstacle changed over time, or does it basically remain the same?

Honestly, I think the biggest obstacle women face is dealing with our own issues. I ran across the term internalized oppression in my social work classes last year, and I think that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Statements like, “I don’t have any girl friends because they’re all such catty bitches.” are all too common. Assuming implicitly or explicitly that a woman’s worth is tied up in whether or not she has a man and can keep him still goes on today. In fact, if I can go off on a tangent, one of the things that’s turned me off about romance novels in particular has been the treatement of female characters. In a genre that is meant to be so women-centric, the number of authors who develop such fascinating, multi-faceted male characters and then pair them with women as interesting as drying paint is absolutely appalling. Also, if I never read a description along the lines of, “She wasn’t like all the other women he’d met, who all *insert awful stereotype here*.” it will be too soon. I’m not asking for every single woman to embrace sisterhood and solidarity, but not cutting each other down would be seriously awesome.

Yay for blog memes. I love them to distraction, and I always end up doing them, even if some seem too boring to post.

This one I got from Jen B.

1. What thing is nearest to you? An empty glass which used to contain Kool-aid.
2. What is your ringtone? It’s actually one of the presets on my phone. It sounds vaguely musical, but it’s not any particular tune.
3. What was the last message in your inbox? I think at the moment it’s an RP tag. (Yes, yes, I am a nerd. This should not surprise you.)
4. Who is your best friend? I think I’m going to copy Jen and confess I don’t really have one. I have several close friends, but I don’t want to rank them. That might make them sad.
5. What is the brand of your TV? I’m one of those people normal folks hate. I don’t own a TV. I don’t really miss its lack, except for when I want to glom a TV show, and that’s why God invented DVD’s, which I can play on my computer.
6. What schools did you attend? This question sort of skeeves me out. Why don’t I just say I’ve attended the school of hard knocks and be done with it?

7. Do you own a MP4? Um… Given that I don’t know what that is, I’m assuming that’s a no.

8. What song are you listening to now? I am so lame. I had a random Internet radio stream on in the background, but loaded my music just to see what would show up on shuffle. It turns out to be “I want a Man” by Nancy Moran, a folk singer/songwriter I adore.

9. Did you kiss anybody in the past 2 days? No. *sadface*

10. Have you ever kissed someone you met in the blogosphere? Actually… Yes. Though we didn’t really meet in what I think of as the blogosphere, since LJ is kind of its own microcosm. It’s a long story, though, and, while the person in question is still someone I very much like, I prefer not to dwell on the year that brought me in contact with him.
11. What would you want to call yourself if you didn’t have your current name? When I was growing up, I was disappointed that I wasn’t given a name that ended with an a. Now… Shannon is actually a fairly unique name.
12. Would you be happy if you had everything? Nope. I’d probably want more of everything.
13. Are you always thinking of someone special? Well, you know, I am pretty damn special, and I think about myself a lot during the course of a day.

14. Tell us of your most desperate dream? Desperate, huh? Well, apparently it involves sexy people with Scottish accents doing unspeakable things to my person.

15. When did you last laugh till you cried? I never laugh that hard, because it takes a lot to make me cry. But… probably last Saturday.

16. If you had a crush, would you tell them you love him/her now? Sadly, no crushes. Lately, all the ones I develop end in tragedy. (Either they’re married, they’re a creeper, or they’re a married creeper.) On the other hand, I have friends I adore to distraction who I would go live in sin with if only the idea of actually moving anywhere farther away than about three blocks away didn’t give me the heebie jeebies.

17. If you could be anywhere in the world now, where would you want to be? A beach somewhere. There would be cabana boys involved, and they would be serving me drinks and rubbing my back.

18. When was your heart last broken? If it counts… It was the end of a book I read recently, which should have featured one of the characters getting together with the man she fell in love with. But noooo. That’s not what happened. I sniffled.

19. Whose birthday(s) is/are coming up? My brother’s is in August. I’m thinking that’s the next birthday I have to remember.

20. How many email accounts do you have? Um… four. Five if you count the school email account, which gets forwarded to my main email address.

Dear Douchebag at the convenience store yesterday:

News flash. I guarantee you that I know for a fact that I am fat. Knowing this, I made a conscious decision to not subsist on salad and water and went to the convenience store to buy funions and those Snickers ice cream bars. I knew when I bought them that these things have no nutritional value whatsoever. That’s why I bought them. I am also a grown adult, and if I want to clog my arteries, who is going to stop me?

I did not appreciate you telling me your inspiring story of losing 100 pounds on Weight Watchers. Far from inspiring me–as you hoped given that you actually did use the word inspire when you told me this story–it made me want to punch you in the face. It also inspired me never to consider Weight Watchers as as a viable diet plan, lest I run into your douchey self there. Oddly enough, this is exactly how I feel about evangelical Christianity. I don’t like being prosseletized about my god, and I don’t like being prosseletized about my weight. Because you know what? It is absolutely none of your fucking business. I don’t care that you’re right. You’re not one of the people in my life who is allowed to make that kind of criticism of a complete stranger.

Also, at least I *walked* to the convenience store in order to get my arteries clogged. Your lazy ass drove.

No love,
Shannon

I’ve been noticing that many bloggers have been awarded the Zombie Chicken Award lately. Lest you wonder what the heck I’m clucking about, let me explain.

The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken – excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all…

You know what has me so fried? Not one of the brood of hens whose squawkings I read regularly thought to nominate me. I wonder what they were thinking? Did they think that, as soon as the Zombie Apocalypse hit, I would fly the coop, hoping for free range? Well, I cry foul! As soon as those zombies came swooping in, egged on by my hen-pecked friends and associates, I would fight those zombies until all of them were sufficiently yolked. After all, zombies weren’t meant to rule the roost!

But thanks to no one giving me this award themselves, I guess none of the rest of you will ever know that, will you? Why, even now, you probably think I’m just going to grab your leg and pullet. Well, I intend to be proactive about this. As soon as I hear the faintest hint of zombified creatures running around with their heads cut off, I’ll lay in wait. Because goddammit, I am a bad-ass, kick-ass zombie-fightin’ chick!

I know a lot of other bloggers do this, so… why not me?

I thought I’d read a lot more than I did in March. Maybe I’ve missed something, in which case I need to be a lot better about making notes on my book spreadsheet. Also, I sucked at writing reviews this month so I’m not going to link to any of them because I am teh lazy.

Books Read in March

• Bound by Steel by Kirsten Saell: It’s not my favorite entry in her series, but since she’s one of my favorite ebook authors that’s not saying a whole lot.

• Crux by Moira Rogers: I love the dynamic duo that is Moira Rogers, both as people and as writers. I really liked this book, and I’m excited about this series continuing. Very fun sexy urban fantasy!
• Pleasure Unbound by Larissa Ione: It’s cheesy as hell, but I was sucked in completely while I was reading it.
• Rapture Ready: Adventures in the Parallel Universe of Christian pop Culture by Daniel Raddosh: A fascinating bit of nonfiction about Christian pop culture. I’ve been kind of surprised at the fact that I have suddenly developed an interest in reading pop culture analysis, and I blame this book. (Yes. Some people develop real hobbies such as stamp collecting or selling Mary Kay. I, on the other hand, am a nerd.)
• Strega by Andrew Vachss: Loved this second entry into the Burke series. I think Vachss is going to be my go-to author for a definite sense of grit.
• Savage Love by Dan Savage: I love Dan Savage’s weekly syndicated sex advice columns, and I’ve loved the other books he’s written. This was interesting, but not so much remarkable.
• In the Night Garden by Kathrynne Valente: Part of her Orphan’s Tales series. I loved the sense of wonder involved in discovering these fairy tales.
• Gobsmacked by LB Gregg: A full review of this is in the works for TGTBTU, but I will say that I enjoyed this, despite the fact that the book’s main character was hard to like in spots in the same way I find heroines of het romances marketed as humor to be… He was all about the wacky hijinks and I didn’t connect with him well as a real person.
• Angels’ Blood by Nalini Singh: This one was just way overhyped. I liked it, I’ll probably read the next one, but it wasn’t teh most awesomest thing evar!!!11
• A Free Man of Color by Barbara Hambly: I read this shortly after reading some of the endless commentary on Racefail 09. I have no idea if she got the struggles of an educated black man in pre-Civil War New Orleans right, but it felt authentic to me and I loved it.
• Practice Makes Perfect by Julie James: I was expecting it to be way worse, so I was way happy that I liked this book. The thing I didn’t like? Both the hero and heroine had parents straight out of flagrant stereotype central casting. Seriously, every time the heroine’s hippie mom showed up, I had to restrain violent tendencies.
• Through Wolf’s Eyes by Jane Lindskold: Really liked this. Nice start to an epic fantasy series that shows promise.
• The Dazzle of Day by Molly Gloss: Review forthcoming. You know when a book starts out with an awesome premise and you read it and you’re absolutely blown away because it’s so much better than you thought it could ever be? Well… that did not happen with this book. At all. Also, it features surprise! buttsex, and I was just not all upons.

Overall, not a bad reading month. Only one real dud, which is awesome!

This month’s amusing search terms

• flipper boy freak picture: Um, sorry I couldn’t help you there?

• Valdemar Fanfiction: I don’t write it, but I know people who do. Or did.
• Fantasy Rants: Just give me time.
• Disabled Character Romance: I want to write a post about that in more detail, but the gist of my thoughts on the issue is that I don’t want to read them.
• Neil Gaiman wife: I’m sure she’s a nice person.
• japanese tv show mentioned in andrew vachss: Er, I don’t know! Now I’m curious!
• why should i read flowers from the storm: Because it sure beats robbing convenience stores!
• shannon life flight: Oh dear. I hope she’s OK.
• romance novels made into movies: The only ones I know about are those Nora Roberts Lifetime movies which, by all accounts, are horrible.

So… that’s been my month. Stay tuned next month for more flipper boy pictures! Or… possibly not.

For one of my classes–the requisite health class I need to complete in order to finish my associate’s degree at the community college I attend–we’ve started watching Super Size Me, the 2004 documentary in which the filmmaker, Morgan Spurlock, ate at McDonald’s for 30 days. I have not been enjoying this piece of cinematography, to put it mildly, not enjoying it so much so that I almost walked out of class today, something that, nerd that I am, I just don’t do.

I’m a big girl. I’ve always been a big girl. My family is composed of big people, and we make up part of Spurlock’s 60 percent of Americans who are either overweight or obese. And before we get any further, I would like to admit that, yes, my diet and exercise need improvement. I realize that spending the majority of my time sitting in front of a computer does not a healthy person make, and I really am trying to adopt better habits. But having said that, having a self-righteous, pompous asshole like Spurlock sit in judgment of me? Not going to help. In fact, my first impulse, after I got out of class, would have been to go out and eat a whole box of super sized fries just out of spite. If only I hadn’t had toi go directly to another class, and if only there had been an actual McDonald’s on my way to anywhere I had to go today, I would have done so.

The part of the movie that really killed me was when Spurlock interviewed one guy who basically said that now it’s become socially acceptable to hector smokers for their bad habits, so when, oh when, will pop culture embrace criticizing fat people for their habits? He seemed genuinely sad that he couldn’t just walk up to, say, me, and be all, “I notice that’s not a diet soda you’re drinking. Have you checked your cholesterol lately?” Because, yeah. Shame and humiliation are really going to solve that problem.

And that’s not even getting to the fact that I don’t know anyone who actually eats every single meal at McDonald’s every day. Maybe those people are out there. Maybe they are the same people who buy snuggies. I don’t know. I do know that the whole premise of the experiment is highly flawed and thus, I can’t take it seriously. It seems like the filmmakers keep trotting out these absolutely mind-bogglingly horrible statistics for the shock value. “Oh, noes, you fat cows. By following this diet, you will be consuming over 30 pounds of sugar and 12 pounds of icky, gross fat. Now don’t you want a salad?”

It doesn’t help that the overweight people he has talked to aren’t the kind of people I want on my side. We stopped the video after a teenager whined that she couldn’t follow Jared Fogle’s infamous Subway diet because she couldn’t afford to eat at Subway every day. Well, sweetheart, you can probably just make yourself your own turkey sub sandwich at home and pay much less to do it, so that isn’t an excuse.

I’m not sure, because I’m not a health expert, what needs to be done to get Americans to eat smarter. I am, however, fairly sure that, like smoking cigarettes and other perfectly legal but horrible things a person can do for their health, that grown-up fucking adults can decide for themselves what kind of stuff they want to put in their own bodies. People should eat right because it’s a healthy thing to do, because not eating right can lead to serious health complications, not because they got shocked and shamed into doing so by a fucking douchebag with a camera crew.

We have more of this video to watch on Thursday. I imagine Thursday night I’ll manage to squeeze in some more vitriol on this subject.

I haven’t owned a television in my entire adult life. I have lived in apartments where televisions also happened to be, but for myself, I’ve never seen the need, because I’m addicted to the Internet, which is a differently completely passive activity. Anyway, I’m mostly OK with this lack of TV, because I still absorb important pop culture through interacting with the rest of the human race.

Which is why, last night, I found myself embracing the latest kitchy thing to take America by storm. Oh, I’d heard about it. I mean, how could I follow Katiebabs on Twitter without knowing about this?

I am, of course, referring to the snuggie. Katiebabs recently blogged about the snuggie, and my reaction was a mildly amused “…OK?”

Then I actually watched the commercial. And a strange thing happened. For a brief moment, I found myself thinking, “Oh! My! God! It’s a blanket! With sleeves! I must have one!” I don’t even particularly care that one commenter on a blog somewhere described them as fugly choir robes. It’s a blanket! With sleeves! What’s not to love about that? Never mind the fact that the Snuggie is made in China, probably with sweatshop labor from people who, in their entire life, couldn’t make enough to *buy* a snuggie. Never mind the fact that it is almost April, and therefore too warm to even be thinking about buying a blanket. The utter cheese of this commercial makes me want to own one.

Well, I suppose, better the snuggie than the Shamwow!

So does anyone out there in bloglandia own a snuggie? Come on, you can admit to it! Meanwhile, I will be huddled, cold and without a blanket with sleeves, under my rock.

P.S. I intensely love this parody commercial.

I got this from C Squared, who is one of my favorite tweeple in the twitterverse.

Here’s my post from the lazy bloggers post generator.

OMG! I just opened mine eyes, and lo! I have not updated this since they invented sliced bread… You would not believe how hard it is being waited on hand and foot and generally lounging around. I prostrate myself in sorrow and beg thy forgiveness..

I am absolutely consumed with finding Jesus (after someone told me he was lost), watching the grass grow, just generally being of great concern to various lawyers I met recently, my day sprawls from the second I am woken by murderous Teletubbies to I run out of alcohol. I am so tired of my kids wanting me to give them attention and stuff. I wish you could be here to share it.

I swear on the bones of my ancestors if one more person emails me to ask why I haven’t posted today I will start posting pictures of toe fungus, or fecal murals. You wanna test me? The Piccaninnies say I have to!.

• 10. “I have the clap.”

• 9. “Modern 19th century women don’t need the vote!”
• 8. “I really think I should get an abortion.”
• 7. “Sex? I’ve always wanted to try that!”
• 6. “Of course I’d settle for a feckless rake. He’d get tired of me and then I could have affairs of my own.”
• 5. “My scoundrel of a father/brother who wiped out the family fortune can go to the devil! I’m not sacrificing myself just because the men in my life can’t manage their money.”
• 4. “My therapist says I have codependency issues.”
• 3. “You forgot the condom? No sex for you!”
• 2. “I don’t give a damn about the starving, the poor, and cute little children.”
• 1. “I really mean it. If you don’t stop with all this lifemate shit I am putting a restraining order out on your ass.”

I’d always heard that there was great fun to be had, as a blog owner, in looking up random statistics and finding out how people found your site. So I installed a plugin that does it for me right on my admin console page.

The major google hits so far have been people looking for “big, beautiful men”, which I still maintain will not be the next big thing in romancelandia. But that’s not my favorite google stat so far.

All I have to say to the poor hopeless schmuck looking up “reaction paper white privilege” who wound up here is… Honey, you have got the wrong blog. I have a hard enough time writing my own reaction papers without writing yours, too.

Put yourself in a Harlequin romance story

Here is mine:

Cowboy Jonathan grieved the loss of his wife and baby. Then he discovers his son is alive—and living with an adoptive mother—award-winning writer Shannon. Despite the secrets and lies, Jonathan can’t deny the truth: brainy Shannon loves the boy. Yet Jonathan grew up without a father and won’t do that to his own child.

When someone dangerous comes after them, cowboy Jonathan takes Shannon and his son into hiding in the unknown reaches of Mars. As he grows closer to them, he discovers much about family life. After his dark, troubled past, he’s finally found faith and family. And he’ll do anything to protect both.

Sadly, if I were reviewing this, I’d have to say that the heroine seems much less interesting than the hero. Which is a crime in my own damn book.

Today I upgraded Wordpress. No idea if this makes the site look any different, but I like some of the new features.

Later today, after I finish a few other things, I hope to have a review posted. But for now, mostly to test my twitter feed, have some linkage.

• Dear Author reports on Kindle 2.0. It has a text to speech engine now. Which still makes it useless for an actual, y’know, blind consumer. But, hey, whatev. It’s not like ebook companies actually want my money or anything.

• Dear Author also had a post about social DRM which was fascinating. Note that the two things these links have in common is the fact that I am in the comments, wanking on my soapbox.
• Not that I care overly much about book covers (the being totally blind thing sort of prevents this), but over in the fantasy blogosphere there’s been some wank about one. Me, I kind of want to read the book now. Because I like both epic fantasy and paranormal romance, and I love well-written strong female characters, and all of those tastes taste great together.
• And also via Andrew Wheeler, a hillarious review of a book I am never likely to read. And, hey, it’s from a Kansas City blog, and that’s… kind of local. I will let the author of the book in question speak for himself.
  

  “Killinger turned to face her. There was a definite interruption in the pattern of his white shorts.” (page 95)

  and

  “Killinger hung up quickly to cut off complaints and because Marja-Liisa had moved his hand to her golden grove and had begun quivering against his fingers and her sighs had become deep.”

  I’d have posted the bit about prunes, but, y’know, some things you just have to discover on your own.

It’s 2 AM and I have spent the last half hour hand-washing clothes. As fun nighttime activities go, this is not one of my better thought out plans, but I figured that as long as I was lying in bed, contemplating the ceiling, I might as well put my energy to good use. The roommate who is here won’t say anything if she notices I’m awake, and the one I share a bathroom with is the subject of a multi-level campaign of hostility from the rest of us in the apartment, the reasons for which I may post about in some future blog, so I figure that the bit of laundry detergent I spilled in the bathtub will remain an inconvenience until the morning, whether she likes it or not.

Anyway, as I was hand-washing my delicates, I found myself thinking about style. I’ve actively avoided that topic for several years, because I figured that clothes were something you put on to cover up, and since I couldn’t see their various colors and styles, it didn’t matter what they looked like.

It’s only been the last few months that I’ve found my mind changing about that. It all started when a gaming friend of mine mentioned that she buys a lot of her clothing from Holy Clothing. They sell hand-made gypsy, Gothic and Renaissance-style clothing, at reasonably affordable prices. And, after some reassurances from the gaming friend that, no, I wouldn’t have to buy hoop skirts and bustles, I thought, ‘OK, I can do this.’ So I placed an order.

Let me tell you, shopping for clothes online when you can’t see what you’re doing is complicated. I had to call in reinforcements, because I figured that if I were going to do this, I wanted to do it right. So I texted my brother’s girlfriend K., and I emailed my sister, and I looked on the site.

I ordered a couple of skirts and tops, and immediately realized that I loved their clothes. I’ve never really worn long skirts before, outside of costumes, and they’re the most comfortable things ever. I love the way the material swishes against my legs as I walk. Now, putting on jeans in case I run into a random boy that might be over, I feel kind of constricted.

But the thing that those skirts really did well for me was give me a sense of control over something I’ve never had control over. Clothing was always something I let other people pick out for me, and it was freeing to decide, ‘OK, I’m getting this top. In burgundy. So there.”

I’ll probably still remain largely a jeans and t-shirt girl, since the other thing about my skirts is that they require a delicate wash cycle, which means I feel more comfortable hand-washing them, and, being a lazy girl, I’d prefer not to do that every week. But I like that they’re there. I like that they make me feel sexy, in a hippie, gypsy sort of way, and I like the freedom of knowing that clothes shopping is something I really can handle, for the most part, by myself after all.

I realize this has nothing to do with anything I usually talk about over here, but it is an observation I am making.

I really enjoy the New Age channel on my XM radio. I’ve had it on today in the background, and it’s worked beautifully as background music. But occasionally, when they need a station ID, this woman with a slight British accent comes on and says something poetic. She seems to actually be reciting some poetry, though I haven’t paid attention to what she says.

It did, however, occur to me that it would be highly, highly amusing if the posh British lady said something completely out of the blue like, “There once… was a man… from Nantucket.” and then proceeded to recite the rest of the limmerick with the same intensity with which she recites everything else.

OK, possibly I may be the only one who would laugh, but there you have it, the strange workings of my mind. You should, by all rights, be terrified.

I’m behind in my blogging by quite a lot–I need to post something my blogging partner wrote because Wordpress hates her right now, I need to point y’all to some of my reviews posted over at The Good, the Bad and the Unread, and I had a few various and sundry other thoughts, but, dude.

KU BEAT MEMPHIS IN THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP NCAA GAME!

I am feeling really proud to be a Jayhawk right now. And let’s not talk about the fact that I didn’t actually watch the game or anything. Because that is not the point! I have no idea what the point actually is, but rock chock Jayhawk anyway!

In what universe is the following political argument even considered valid?

“Well, if we elect Hillary Clinton, and she gets on the rag, then what will happen?”

This got said in my Women’s Studies class last night. I think the phrase, “You’ve got to be shitting me” passed my lips, especially when my professor actually took the argument seriously and said, “Well, she’s menopausal, so it’s not like that’s ever going to happen.”

That’s not the fucking point. We would never ever *ever* say that about a male candidate. I mean, srsly! Did we invade Iraq because Dubya got morning wood one day and Laura didn’t do anything about it? Is that the real reason for most of the wars the U.S. has gotten involved in? Because that seems equally as likely as Hillary, if elected, getting on the rag and doing something to fuck up the nation because of that fact.

Contrary to popular belief, I have not died. Instead, I ate some awful Chinese food on Sunday night, which resulted in me being violently sick yesterday. So I spent most of yesterday in bed, and now it’s a new day and I think I’m going to try and eat something more substantial to see what happens.

In any event, I have an interview with Ann Aguirre to post later today, so stay tuned!

I’ve been considering posting reviews of music that most people haven’t heard of here on the blog as well. Unfortunately, I don’t even know how I would write such a review, because I know even less about music than I do about books, so if I decide y’all need my thoughts on music, I’ll have to make something up really quick.

But anyway, today I was listening to Mountain Stage on the XM Public Radio station and they had a segment on with Susan Werner who is a singer/songwriter I should clearly be listening to more often. Anyway, I’m not sure if it’s her latest CD, but she’s got a fairly recent album called The Gospel Truth It is described as the first ever agnostic gospel album, and I really loved the selections that she played on the show. In fact, I decided right away that I need to own this CD like right now, which goes to show you that I am not just an obsessive fangirl over books.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

My Godiva chocolate order got here yesterday so I have been nibbling on various truffles all day. I lurve me some truffles and I don’t get to eat them nearly as often as I’d like to.

Anyway, I hope your Valentine’s Day plans are more exotic than mine–here’s a hint, my plans involve doing homework and maybe getting a spot of writing done.

In the meantime, here’s this week’s Booking through Thursday.

Here’s something for Valentine’s Day.

Have you ever fallen out of love with a favorite author? Was the last book you read by the author so bad, you broke up with them and haven’t read their work since? Could they ever lure you back?

I have this relationship with Mercedes Lackey. As a teenager, I loved her books, and they are fun to revisit now and then, but I find some of her stuff pretty unreadable. (To wit, my most recent attempt to read her latest book in the Half-Blood Chronicles series.) Still, she does have some interesting ideas, and I do keep reading her, even though sometimes I get the impression she’s just churning the books out at this point.

Man, I am full of the off topic posts today.

I figured that it was time to start a semi-regular feature over here on teh blog called “Things Never to Say to a Blind Person” in the hopes that it will occasionally help someone out–or at least offend well-meaning people who will consider me ungrateful and mean-spirited.

The phrase that’s stuck in my craw today is, “Oh, you must be so brave.” I first heard this as a little girl. If I remember correctly, I was in a swimming pool, horsing around with my brother and sister and ended up getting roped into a conversation with some kid’s mother. “I think it’s so great that you’re out here,” she said. “You’re so brave, and you’re an inspiration to me.” I didn’t get it then. I still don’t get it. Why, exactly, must I be so `brave? Is it because I fight crime? Slay demons and vampires? Have super-powers?

No, I get the impression people think I’m brave because I get up in the morning and dress myself and then attempt to interact with the world around me. I know, it’s totally crazy, but I think some people think that just because my eyes don’t work, I obviously should be sitting at my parents’ house, letting them feed me, wearing Depends and reading the Bible. (A note of digression: If you should ever have a blind child, do not let the Christian Record Braille Foundation out of Lincoln, Nebraska get ahold of your child’s personal information. Your child will be receiving mailings from them until she turns 25, and nothing you can do short of threatening these people with nuclear bombs will get your child’s name off their mailing list. Well, of course, I never actually called their offices to inform them that I had joined a cult that worshipped Satan, although I was very tempted.)

I am not an especially brave person. In fact, I tend to think that if my average blog reader were to lose their sight tomorrow, after some whining and a huge pity party, most of you would figure out ways of adapting. Because you have to. If you don’t adapt to the shit life throws at you, you’re not really living.

My uncle is a great example of this. He’s diabetic, and has lost his vision rapidly. He’s got a lot of other health issues going on, too, but the last few times I’ve seen him, he’s been a shell of his former self. He just can’t do anything for himself, and it’s really hard to watch, particularly for me, because I could help. I have even offered my help, and nobody’s taken me up on it. I’m hoping my uncle will realize that eventually he’s got to learn to adapt to the vision loss. I know it’s hard, but trying to find ways to work around something like that is a way more productive use of one’s time than trying to draw disability… which, take it from me, is not the king’s ransom that certain conservative acquaintances seem to think that it is.

In summation, I’m not brave. I’m not an inspiration to anyone. Because were you in my shoes, I would like to think most of you would do exactly what I’m doing–trying to live a normal life.

Well, as of today I will be the proud owner of a new XM radio. I need one of these babies like I need a hole in my head. But hell, I ended up with more grant money than I needed when my financial aid came through, so I might as well spend it. This has nothing to do with books at all–I just think sattelite radio is pretty cool and I am going to forget my friend Jal’s nervous nellie warnings that my radio might not work in my apartment. As much as I am paying for the damn thing, it better fucking work, is all I’m saying.

In other news, I will be sticking to the grindstone today because I have homework out the yin yang due tomorrow. Three readings for International Relations, a buttload for Women’s Studies, and a short paper for English. Yeah, technically, I knew about all of these already, except for the English. I just want some cheese with my whine.

Sorry… I’m not spreading the man love today.

I saw that Marg nominated me for a You Make My Day award. If I were smart, I would paste a graphic illustrating this in my blog, but I’m not, so no graphics.

Anyway, I’m supposed to nominate ten people, too, right? So here goes.

• Lisabea is number one, because she made me feel welcome when I switched from LJ and started blogging over here, and I love that when she’s enthusiastic, she *really* gets into what she’s talking about.

• Teddy Pig introduces me to books I’d never read ordinarily, and though we don’t always agree, it’s nice to have a champion for the rights of blind ebook readers out there in romancelandia.
• Melissa, who is one of my best friends and a girl who’s always got my back. Er, not that she’ll ever see this, but she rocks hardcore.
• Holly, who is getting married which is way cool. I’d love to get to know her better, because she seems like an awesome chick.
• A. and K. because I love their animal stories, and I’m probably totally butchering that URL, but they’re still awesome, and plus they know my parents.
• Rosario, my reading twin, because we agree so much.
• Sybil, even though I owe her a review
• Tumperkin, who writes some lovely thoughtful posts in a style that I very much enjoy reading.
• Bev QB, because I like her blog, and even though we disagree in principle about what we like, her reviews are just a lot of fun to read.
• Dakota, who I thought would want to tar and feather me for her B- review, but she didn’t.
• Meredith, because I like her book reviews and she needs to post more regularly.

Wow, spreading the love has made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Too bad my next post is one where I get my hate on for a book.