Reading (or not) as of late

I couldn't do it.  I just. couldn't. finish. this. book.

And I chose it for our book club meeting!  For shame.

Heller's stream of consciousness, war-time, trite attempts at being clever were just too disorganized and sporadic and I couldn't take more than 200 pages without feeling like I was punishing myself.

So, friends, if you enjoyed this read, snaps to you!  Because I thought it sucked and can't believe it's been heralded as a best seller of our time!

New York state of mind?

Tom Wolfe's describes some interesting northeastern religious tension...which is almost exactly the opposite of the southern experience (Catholic, Protestant and Jewish balances):

The Mayor shook his head some more.  He found the Christian churches baffling.  When he was growing up, the goyim were all Catholics, unless you counted the shvartzer, which nobody did.  They didn't even rate being called goyim.  The Catholics were two types, the Irish and the Italians.  The Irish were stupid and liked to fight and inflict pain.  The Italians were stupid and slob-like.  Both were unpleasant, but the lineup was easy enough to comprehend.  He was in college before he realized there was this whole other set of goyim, the Protestants.  He never saw any.  There were only Jews, Irishmen, and Italians in college, but he heard about them, and he learned that some of the most famous people in New York were this type of goyim, the Protestants, people like the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, the Roosevelts, the Astors, the Morgans.  The term Wasp was invented much later.  The Protestants were split up into such a crazy bunch of sects nobody could even keep track of them all.  It was all very pagan and spooky, when it wasn't ridiculous.  They were all worshipping some obscure Jew from halfway around the world.  The Rockefellers were!  The Roosevelts even!  Very spooky it was, and yet these Protestants ran the biggest law firms, the banks, the investment houses, the big corporations.  He never saw such people in the flesh, except at ceremonies.  Otherwise they didn't exist in New York.  They barely even showed up in the voting surveys.  In sheer numbers they were a nullity - and yet there they were.  And now one of these sects, the Episcopalians, had a black bishop.  You could joke about the Wasps, and he often did so with his friends, and yet they weren't so much funny as creepy.

Post-labor day blues? Probably not.

Happy fall y'all!  I must admit that I preempted the season by giving myself a mani last night with Lancome's lovely dark purple shade from fall 2009.  One of my favorite things about fall (aside from college football of course) is dark nail polish- such a UK classic touch and it always reminds me of my lovely Scottish friend Lucy who introduced me to edgy manis- and I'm really excited to have just nailed down a weekend to visit her in Manhattan.  First weekend in December, I'm big apple-bound to see the only woman I know who can drink more champagne than I can.  I'll drink to that!

Speaking of Lucy and running, here we are at last year's New York Marathon cheering on her sweet husband Stewart and friends (homemade signs and all)- such a fun day and I would love to run this race myself next year!

More great news:  Biscuit and I both finished our half mary in under two hours!  I would post pics of us at the finish but I'd just been at elevated (try 10 out of 10), complete physical exertion for nearly two hours and let's just say I look the part.  Biscuit smoked me by 3 minutes, which is typical for her speedy little self.  While thrilled with my personal record ("PR" in runner lingo), the run was not my best and the entire two hours were a true struggle.  I'm afraid despite its dormant years, I haven't fully outgrown my exercise-induced asthma (was diagnosed in high school but haven't had problems since mid-college) and I'm making an appointment with a doc to get back on the inhaler train.  From mile 1 my chest was so tight I could barely breath- not the greatest conditions for 13.1 miles in the summer heat.  Makes me even more proud of the accomplishment because it was such a struggle.  Onto this weekend's race:  Parks Half Marathon in Bethesda, MD.  I'm allowed to shoot the breeze this time, given my goal was met in Daytona...err...Virginia Beach.

Hope y'all had a lovely Labor Day and are enjoying your four day work week! x

New season, new style.

Happy Wednesday, lovelies.  At 6pm tomorrow, I officially start a 4-day weekend, which will be a much-needed sanctuary from all of the secretarial shiz my boss has been tasking me with lately.  Thank God I have my own intellectual and professional curiosity; otherwise my brain would rust over and I'd have dropped three reading levels by now.

But on to lighter topics, such as my utter and complete lack of style.  I have been wearing the same crap since high school- literally.  I've never been a serious shopper, and my sister somehow managed to usurp all of the trendy genes from the pool.  I need to ditch my gap jeans and polos and get some fall basics that will give me a little more of an edge and, most importantly, won't make me look older than I already am for pete's sake.

First stop:  haircut.  I'm getting bangs at 3pm on Friday.  As much as I'd like to emulate Charlotte York, the reality is that having my locks one length results in me looking like Ozzy Osbourne by the end of the evening (not to mention with my recent eating issues, I am more likely than ever to rip the head off a live bird with my teeth).  So here's what I'm thinking...

No doubt Jennifer's first reaction will be to laugh her face off when I hand her a picture of Mischa Barton and say "make me look like this."  But hopefully she can take me to a place where I accomplish two things:  (1) I no longer look like the Prince of Darkness; and (2) I have a style that would encourage me to wear my hair down more often and more naturally (as in not board straight after 45+ minutes of styling).

Second attempt at stepping up my game:  I finally gave in and bought leggings.  Like a really nice pair.  I know you may be wondering how (and perhaps why) I could fit my ass into a pair of equestrian-style leggings.  I'm wondering the same thing, as I ordered them online today and don't yet have the answer to those questions.  But I love the look, paired with a great sweater and some boots and given the fact that I refuse to wear anything but boots when the temperature drops below 50 degrees, I may as well let them enjoy the chill out from under my jeans- better them than me.

Remaining pieces on my list:  cowgirl boots, shortie suede boots, a pair of designer skinny jeans and an obnoxiously busy-looking oversized clutch.  I figure with all of these items, I'll look 5 years younger, 10 pounds lighter, and Mischa Barton will be taking pictures of me to her stylist.

xo