1. Vintage 1988 Broad Street Run t-shirt
2. Brown GAP pants
3. Brown New Balance sneakers
As I checked myself in the mirror one more time before I left, I came to a sad realization: At 27, I still have the fashion sense of a high school tomboy.
How fitting, then, that I’d just started Spanking Shakespeare by Jake Wizner.
Spanking Shakespeare is about Shakespeare Shapiro, a high school senior who spends most of his time brooding about his status as unpopular, and a virgin. He spends most of the book, told in memoir form, pondering why he is unpopular and a virgin, and how he can remedy both situations.
I’m told by the PR materials that this book is for young readers. I’m not sure how I feel about that, and not only because of the NSFW content (and, near the end, drawing). I’m all for letting teenagers read books with cursing, sex and all kinds of adult themes. My issue with the young reader label is that Spanking Shakespeare has the potential to entertain grown ups.
Who doesn’t have awkward high school memories? I skipped over a […]
Let’s get this straight: I did not start reading this book because I just got dumped. I was assigned a Q&A with the author before that sucky Friday night. Because of that sucky Friday night, I wasn’t really in the mood to read a book about dating, so I waited until the morning of the interview (today — though it’s been rescheduled to Monday) to hunker down with The Four Man Plan: A Romantic Science.
I’m not a big fan of dating books. I’ve read a few, both for articles and because friends pushed them down my throat, and a lot of them are variations of the same thing: common sense. Lu’s book is of the same ilk, though with a lot of funny diagrams and a science-y twist. Still, the cornerstones are the same — date a lot, and don’t shag on the first date.
Here’s my beef with dating books: No matter what they tell you, or what your family and/or friends give you in the way of advice, you’re going to do what you want to do. I read He’s Just Not That Into You, then promptly dove into what was the most […]
A little while ago, I read My Life in France by Julia Child. I’m not a good cook, but I have a fondness for Julia. Not only was she great on camera, but I knew she’d led a fascinating life and, being recently dumped, I liked to remind myself that Julia didn’t find her ‘soul mate,’ Paul Child, until her late 30s.
As I read My Life in France, a loose thought jiggled in my brain. Something about someone cooking along to Julia to get out of a funk. I’d read about it in a book catalogue, but I couldn’t remember more than that. A quick google search got me the answer: Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen. Better yet, it had just come out in paperback. Better still, Borders was selling the hardback version for $4.99. And I had a $5 coupon. Sold.
Powell wasn’t trying to get over a break up by cooking her way through Child’s Master the Art of French Cooking, but a general life slump. She worked for a government agency, lived in a crappy apartment, and was stuck in marital ennui. So she started […]
I like to read. A lot. Whenever I move, my mom asks “do we have to move all your books? Again?” I have managed to turn books into a sliver of my freelance career — I review for a few newspapers and magazines, and write about books and authors, too, if not profiles, then using them as ‘experts’ in my magazine articles.
I can’t give you one reason why I like books. I think they offer an escape, and a much more textured and indulgent one than you’ll find on TV. Even the frothiest of novels demands more from you than watching TV, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
I know that reading a book a week is not a new idea, nor is it a new idea to do so and write about it. But why not give it a go? I find myself drifting when I don’t have a book to read, and I’m in need of an anchor.
Why? I was just dumped for the second time this year — for the third time in the last 12 months. Even aside from the dumping thing, it’s been a pretty crappy year: my grandfather died, my […]