Here ya go, Internets.

Read!

and please get some #!@$@#! sleep! (Awww, who’s been reading the mom bloggers?)

— wm

isn’t that great news? yeah.

did i mention, that in addition to bronchitis, the worst allergies I’ve ever had in my life, a growing sense of “can we please be done with this now please, already?” about my novel (man am i sick of looking for typos, continuity blah blah and misc. plot debris)…

where was I going with this? yes. I had some tumor/growth/alien life force removed from my leg.

that’s why you stop by, right? for the gnarly health news? this wasn’t even gnarly, as these things go. This very beautiful girl doctor and her sweet and also beautiful assistant shoved me backwards on the table, shot up my leg with local anesthetic, and then I don’t even want to know what they did next. But it’s a week later and it’s still sore. Not bad sore — it’s healing up and all, but damn. You just never know what they’re going to do to you, once you step into that strange vortex known as The Doctor’s.

This is me at the doctor’s office. (Thank you, Tom Petty, for the visuals.)

it was just something I didn’t want to deal with and I finally did, yay me. Then I cried because it hurt and the doctor said, If it is malignant, we would need to… and then we’d… and general anesthetic and you’re strong and healthy and would do just fine with that, yes?

my response to that was: “No.” (See? See? Proof on my own blog.)

seriously, Internets. Unlike the rest of my deranged, high-strung extended family, I have extremely low blood pressure. I mean, it’s 90/60 on a good day. When I get sick/stressed/have just had surgery/am losing blood/haven’t had enough milkshakes or sweet potato pie/you name it, it dips to like, 70/47. Then the buzzers and bells start going off, whoop-whoop-aoooooooga! and they all get really excited and things get lively and I think, I am so glad I’m lying down for all this.

Then Steve says, “Even when it’s normal, it’s like, 90/60. She’s a freak, she’s fine.” And then they all simmer down. I can say the same thing, but they don’t listen to Almost-Dead Girl. But they will listen to Steve. Whatever.

Also my lungs have a hard time remembering to breathe. They just… don’t cooperate sometimes.

So I would prefer to never go under general anesthetic for the rest of my life. Also? Veins are collapsing due to Having Too Much Blood Taken for Thyroid Issues and Whatever Else the Vampires Wanted It For.

Hmm.

GOOD NEWS. I called for the test results and the very nice man gave me my favorite letter and my favorite number: B9. Benign!!! Get it? Which is just great, because you know what my favorite movie was when I was a young girl? Sunshine. You know what my favorite book was? (Next to “Wifey,” “Princess Daisy” and any other good smutty trash I could find)… that’s right. Norma Klein’s “Sunshine.” What happens in that book? That’s right. A beautiful teenage mom finds out she has Leg Cancer and her only options are 1) have it cut off or 2) have it cut off or 3) take meds and puke her guts out and then die, anyway.

When you are a teenage girl, this is the sort of book you want to re-read 200 times. So I did. Oh, and “Go Ask Alice.” Yes. So I think this has sort of been a lifelong fear, perhaps. That I will get leg cancer and have to choose between puking/then dying or having my leg amputated. I would choose… neither. I just wouldn’t go to the doctor, that’s how I would solve that one. But I did go to the doc, and all is well. And I’m done with antibiotics for bronchitis and seem to be on the mend. Good! Right on!

Beautiful, happy Friday to you.

— wm

ps in unrelated news, I just filed my first book review for my girls at BlogHer. It’s on “Getting to Happy,” Terry McMillan’s sequel to “Waiting to Exhale.” The review will run sometime this month — I’ll link when it does. (Link!) Will you go check out their site, pretty please? Good stuff on there, and lots of interesting women writing about things that won’t make you wince like I do. Ta-ta for now!

I wanted to like Jennifer Egan’s “A Visit From the Goon Squad.” I really did. But it had too many characters, too many switch-ups, too much name dropping (hip bands, hip clubs, hip people at hip restaurants) and… I just wasn’t into it. I realize that it won the Pulitzer. And the National Book Critics Circle Award. Just not for me. The End.

Robert Whitaker is a genius, and I appreciate the work he is doing to expose all of messed-up stuff that the mentally ill have to face and deal with in our country. It’s too painful for me to write about this topic, especially because today is my late father’s birthday. (I love you, Dad. So very much. Happy birthday.) But I really recommend that everyone read the information that Whitaker has painstakingly gathered. Such a wake-up call.

Peace,

me

ps don’t forget… the door to hell is in your living room. (under the carpet.)

I was a big fan of E.B. White growing up, and read and re-read “Charlotte’s Web” and “Stuart Little” many times. I still have my original little paperbacks. My daughter and her father had re-read “Charlotte’s Web” approximately eight times by the time she turned seven. (We were gifted a big, gorgeous illustrated copy by my sister-in-law.) They bonded over it, it was extremely sweet.

My son is a Stuart Little fan, although I have to say, he likes the movies more than the book. (What??? Child of mine, what?) When I got older, I became a devotee of White’s work with Strunk, “The Elements of Style.” (“Omit unnecessary words.”) (OK, I never said I obeyed their edicts. But I always try.)

So how did we miss “Trumpet of the Swan”? I’ve been reading it with my son for the past couple of weeks, and we’re both enjoying it. It’s funny, it’s real, it’s fantasy, it makes me happy. It’s one of those bonding books, just like “Charlotte’s Web.” We have Louis, the white Trumpeter swan; his dad; his mom; his best friend Sam Beaver; Serena, the swan he longs for — all such good characters. This one is an excellent nighttime read-aloud. I love White for a lot of reasons, but the main reason? He doesn’t talk down to kids. We could all learn a little something here. (Scholastic, 210 pages.)

And now, a fast review of the new Nat’l. Geo. Kids 2012 Almanac, by our two in-house kid reviewers:

Wacky Boy: “OK, I get to do it all. From this book, I learned that there are a bunch of ways to be good to the environment. For instance, you can transform dog poop into energy.”

WG: “Ish.”

and… they’re done. (National Geo. Kids, $13.99, 351 pages.)

Wee little Buglette is a very messy sleeper. She is giving her mother fits. Sweet book for the littles, and the watercolors, all in purples, grays, greens and other light shades, are soothing and pretty. (Tricycle Press, $15.99, 32 pages.) You will find Bethanie’s website at aquapup.com, and her blog at bethaniemurguia.blogspot.com. Until May 21st, 2011, she’s giving away signed copies, so go leave her a note (U.S. only please, sorry, guys :(

She might even give away an original illustration, how’d ya like that?

Plus! Leave a note here on Wacky Mommy for a chance to win a signed copy of the book (two chances! here and over at Bethanie’s), stickers or a “do not disturb” door hanger. If you are interested, leave me a comment (I’m lonely! I love when you say “hey”) (also, something about contests! makes me break out the exclamation marks!), and then send me an e-mail with your request, plus your name and home address. I will see what I can do… (again, U.S. only, argh.)

No, I won’t sell your home address or e-mail, c’mon. This is just a fast fun one. I’m cutting ya off after… the fifth person enters, how’s that? (This is why I never do contests… who has the time?)

Have a great week, y’all.

— Wacky Mommy

(Disclaimer here, yes? Noted!)

Sun is out again today, it’s fantastic. A guy came by to look at our floors — hardwoods, here we come! (I miss the oak hardwoods from our old house, but that’s about all that I miss.) The carpets, the cats who shed about two pounds of fur per day — allergies, asthma. Enough. We’re getting the bids and I can’t wait until we get the project started. (Make that “finished.” heehee.)

We just got our new copy of the “National Geographic Kids Almanac 2012” in the mail, yay! (Free copy for review, so here’s my disclaimer. Again.) My kids really enjoy these almanacs, they’re jam-packed full of fun stuff.

And another disclaimer… now that I’m retired and working from home again (wait… I thought I was retired? OK, writing = not really retired, eh?), I’m going to check out the marketing sites a little more often, BzzAgent and Vocalpoint, for starters. So if I am reviewing products (that I’ve received gratis) I will let you know. I also highly recommend signing up for some of the marketing sites, if you like to check out new products, or if you (like I do) have kids at home who love getting freebies in the mail.

For example, I just wrote this, then went to check the mail. Voila! There’s a coffee cup (paper, wrapped in plastic) that says, “take a break from aftertaste.” OK. I open it up, and there we have… chocolate! No. Damn. Coupons! For Breve Creme — one free pint, on them. And a string of cents-off coupons. I would have rather had a free cup of coffee. It’s the middle of the afternoon and I could use a jolt. But this is all right, too. So there you have it. Breve Creme.

Just remember, I never promote something just for the hell of it, even though I know that sounded like it (Breve Creme… mmmm Breve Creme) and I’m going to continue to give you my honest opinions on stuff. (Even though you’ve never, you know, asked me for ’em.) Or I will, anyway, once I try out this creamer. Dammit, maybe I should stop by Starbucks after I get the kid from school. So no buy-offs here, got it? Got it. Good luck getting any book reviews out of me, though… so busy writing that I’m not able to read as much as I’d like lately. Ah, well.

Here’s a magical recipe from the Sweet Suzanne (go buy her book, too! She worked hard on it):

Baby Reds with a Sprinkle of Magic

Ingredients

2 pounds small red skin potatoes, halved or quartered
1 tablespoon, extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
Salt (if you want) and pepper (I used seasoned pepper)
2 tablespoons, 3 or 4 sprigs, fresh thyme, leaves stripped and
chopped

Directions

Fill a skillet 1/2 full of water and bring water to a boil. Add
potatoes, simmer 13 minutes until fork tender. Drain potatoes in a
colander. In the pan you cooked the potatoes in, heat over med-high
heat, the extra-virgin olive oil and butter. When butter melts add
potatoes. Season potatoes with salt, pepper and chopped thyme. Coat
and brown the potatoes, turning occasionally, 7 or 8 minutes.

QOTD
“What am I doing? Nothing. I am letting life rain upon me.” — Rahel Varnhagen

Here she is. All of us are a little possessive of Y, it’s funny. She is my Y, mine, nooooo mine! She takes amazing photos, go see if you can talk her into selling you one. I love the blogs because many talented women are now… visible. Who needs a book deal? A photo exhibit? We’re going renegade around here, and have been for awhile.

Speaking of books… Mine is going well. I’m at 305 pages now and 88,008 words (nice!). If you’re not impressed with that, then I’m asking you, What the hell is wrong with you? Cuz that’s a lot of words and pages and commas, all put together by moi. You’ll buy an e-copy when it’s done, yes? Yes! (I hope so, anyway.)

And speaking of books, part deux… Classics book group was last night — we read Aristophanes’s play, “The Frogs.” It is from 404 B.C. or something like that, which is apparently a verrrrrrrrrrrry long time ago. Ribbit. I liked it, it was hilarious. Just the fact that the text (different versions of it, who knows which one is the closest to “real”) has survived all these centuries is pretty cool.

Next we’re reading Graham Greene’s “The Quiet American.” I’m already in on the joke — Americans aren’t quiet. The only quiet American is a dead American.

Hmm. We’ll see if I can get through it, here’s hoping. After that we’re reading “Alice in Wonderland” and “Through the Looking Glass,” “Robinson Crusoe,” “Heart of Darkness” (which Steve already finished and I have almost finished — Norton’s edition is best, I’ve heard — I’m reading the Penguin Classics version. I’m finding the notes helpful and yes, I do understand where one of my favorite writers of all time, Chinua Achebe, is coming from, in regards to Conrad).

As Beth would say, That sentence is too long, I’ll start over.

We’re reading Joseph Conrad’s “The Secret Sharer,” too. We reading only books by dead white guys. (Typo that I refuse to correct. “We are reading…” make that, for you copy editors out there.) This fractures me, as I managed to avoid most of them in college. Dead white guys, not copy editors. I wrote for the student newspaper and edited the college literary magazine. You couldn’t move two feet without elbowing a copy editor or two, drinking all the coffee and bitching that they would have to return cans if they wanted some beer money.

But now I’m reading the dead white guys for fun — irony, see?

I was an English major. You learn all about irony and how to avoid work as an English major. OK, let’s just ponder that one for a moment and then have a good laugh. Seriously! Here is who I studied in college: Tillie Olsen, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Toni Morrison, Richard Wright, James Baldwin, Ntozake Shange, SHAKESPEARE!! (didn’t avoid all of ’em, see?), Chinua Achebe, Zora Neale Hurston… and a bunch of dead white guys. Dreiser, James, Fitzgerald… all good. So when I saw “Moby Dick” on our list… (“Mopey dick!” — Leon on “Curb Your Enthusiasm”) heehee I am looking forward to reading Mopey Dick for our September book. Cuz I would read Raymond Carver all day long, but keep Updike, Cheever, and Mopey Dick the hell away from me. I did enjoy Milton, and Wordsworth and… Donald Barthelme, of all people.

(“OK, now you’re just name-droppin’!” — anon. critic in my head)

No, I’m not! I would start reading Kerouac aloud at 11 at night with a friend and keep reading until we’d finished the book.

(“College is hard, but it ain’t work” — my friend Jim, who I read Kerouac with)

If you asked me, which writers have most influenced your writing, I would have to pick Toni Morrison, Stephen King and Donald Barthelme. And Raymond Carver. OK, that’s a little scary, eh?

I somehow ducked and wove and arranged my own deal, all through college, man my professors were something, y’know? They sized me up and said, It’s gonna take some work, with this one. And they let me go for it.

Thank you, English Department at Portland State University. I love them so much for what they gave me, I might just send them a check. Or maybe just copies of “The Bluest Eye,” “Song of Solomon” and “Beloved” to hand out to some deserving students.

Let’s. All. Read!

Except for me, I have to write for awhile, then clean the house. But tonight? I read. Right after we get the results from “American Idol,” make that. hahaha.