The good news today is that I figured out my linking problems on my new Mac and can offer exciting links to burning issues of great importance such as this and this. Keyboard shortcuts - who knew??? (My husband, fortunately. Thanks honey!)
The bad news is that I'm reading a memoir right now, and here in the middle of chapter two, I LOATHE it. Generally, I adore memoirs; even if someone is annoying or atrocious they're at least interesting enough to keep me turning the pages. I LOVED Devil In The Details, and Everything I'm Cracked Up To Be. I even liked Leaving The Saints because it is brilliantly written and fascinating, in a car-crash kind of way (although I'll go out on a limb and say that if this woman is making a million-dollar living as America's Life Coach after purposely blowing up all the connecting bridges to her own family, we Americans need to raise our hiring standards a bit).
Anyway, all that to say, if you take the time to write 250+ pages about your life, chances are I'll find a place for it on my bookshelf. This, however, is going back to the library immediately. (You all said you wanted the truth; here goes...) I'm not even sure what to say...it's just kind of sad. And graphic. The author (who I will freely admit I'm slightly afraid of - from other posts about her book, it's clear that she is a bit like the bully on the playground who will turn all her friends against you if you say your favorite color isn't green) can't possibly be as unlikeable in real life as she is in this book. I want to like her - we've been through some of the same things. But midway through chapter two, I'm not sure I can take anymore. There are funny moments, which are much appreciated in the midst of so much anger and grim determination. But for the most part, it's a manifesto of how she's going to get what she wants out of life even if she has to wrestle it (him) to the ground and sit on it until it cries "uncle." Thank God I didn't read this in my own post-divorce "I wonder if anyone will ever love me again" days, or I might have just hidden in a dark closet for the next 20 years convinced that life wasn't worth living.
So there you have it, my first bad review. Last week I wrestled over my love/hate relationship with the Dixie Chicks, but this week's dilemma will be over with a quick trip to the return bin at my local library.
In happier news, my sister and her family are coming to visit tomorrow. This will be the first visit to the big city for Glamour Girl and Yes We Do Eat Fig Newtons For Breakfast Boy, and it should be quite an adventure. We may just drive them through Boston's Big Dig and tell them it's an amusement park ride for kids who like construction :)
Happy Weekend Everyone!