April 7, 2003

Riveting Reading

Since finishing Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets a few weeks ago, I've had nothing to read at night or on the train. It hasn't been so bad, since I've mostly been driving to work lately and using the between-book interval to catch up on all the TV shows TiVo had recorded for me.

After watching And the Band Played On on HBO and The Last of the Mohicans (for the first time, all the way through; I've seen bits and pieces before) on DVD this weekend, I added these two titles to my reading list (which already contained Seabiscuit: An American Legend, on Meg's recommendation). With an active interest in starting a new book and the prospect of at least two train commutes looming this week, I proposed a trip to Tower Books, which is within walking distance of our house and open until midnight 365 days a year.

On the "featured" table near the entrance I found the Seabiscuit book in trade paperback (feels like a hardback, but convenient for toting around) for 30% off, and immediately picked it up. Above it was another title for 30% off, one that was also heralded as a New York Times bestseller: Nickel and Dimed. It looked like fairly easy and interesting reading, so I bought that too.

I opted to read Nickel and Dimed first, and devoured about 70 pages between the end of Law & Order: Criminal Intent and falling asleep. I read several passages out loud to Al along the way, and got into a hysterical laughing fit over the phrase "citrus fart". I brought the book with me on the train this morning, and read from the time I reached the platform from the time I... well, I was going to say, "set foot in my office building," but to be honest, I've been sneakily reading while mail downloads and the product builds. Fascinating stuff.

I took a detour on the walk from the train to stop at the Starbucks in San Carlos, and the guy who took my order noticed the book in my hand. "Great book," he said. "Yeah, I'm finding it really interesting," I replied. "What's that?" asked the girl (yay!) behind the espresso machine. "Nickel and Dimed," the guy informed her. "Yeah, I read that," said the girl. I turned back to the guy. "You know, I was reading passages out loud to my husband last night, and his question was, 'why didn't she ever apply at Starbucks?'" "She still would have needed two jobs," he said.

I called Al to relate the conversation, and his point wasn't that Starbucks would pay better, but that the working conditions would be better, or at least less menial and depressing than working at Denny's or Merry Maids. Maybe I'll stop at the Starbucks again tomorrow and continue the conversation with the chap who took my order. Or perhaps Al and I can find out for ourselves someday: We keep talking about chucking it all and going to work at Starbucks...

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April 15, 2003

Why the Silence?

Why have I been quiet for a few days? Mainly because I've been busy with other things, mulling over ideas that I'm not yet ready to write about, and because I'm not a fan of "I have nothing to say" posts. I've written them before, and invariably, they're the entries I enjoy least when I go back and review sections of my personal history. So I've opted to focus on work (which could use some focusing on) and reading rather than writing.

Speaking of reading, I spent most of the weekend devouring Seabiscuit: An American Legend. Too many extraneous details for my taste, and unlike most reviewers, I didn't find the histories of the owners, trainers, and jockeys who had come in contact with Seabiscuit as interesting as the horse himself, but the stories about Seabiscuit's training and the play-by-play accounts of his races were incredibly absorbing. The snapshot of racing in general was also interesting, but (perhaps because I was a racing fan as a kid and was already familiar with the sport) more in a "hm, I didn't know that" kind of way rather than in a "WOW, I didn't know that!" way. Whatever flaws I found in the the human story, however, are made up for by Seabiscuit's charisma (and Marcela's—she's the one human I wanted to know more about) and the thrilling accounts of his physical feats. (I was reminded more than once of the Black Stallion series I'd read and loved as a pre-teen.) The Seabiscuit story is one that's worth knowing about. If you don't have the patience or time for the book, American Experience is airing a special on Seabiscuit on April 21.

Posted by Lori at 11:42 AM
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April 18, 2003

Just Like Me

I was noodling around Amazon.com this morning, looking for interesting books to add to my Wish List and presents to buy for family members, when I stumbled across a link that said, "Just Like You" in a place called Lori's Store. I was dying to see what someone Just Like Me would look like, so I followed the link. "Crushing disappointment" is about the best thing I can say about it; in fact, I might sue for libel.

The page was arranged in three columns: the left contained items that the person Just Like Me (only from Texas) and I had both bought and/or rated; the middle column contained recommendations based on what the other person also liked; and the right contained items that only I had bought or rated (in other words, things I didn't have in common with the person Just Like Me in Texas). If the column on the right had been on the left, I would have said, "wow, this person is just like me!" Instead, the column on the left could have belonged to any Harry Potter-reading, Soprano-watching average Jane... and thus, the middle column was wildly off-base, containing as it did the following:

  1. In Love and War ~ I like Sandra Bullock just fine, but I didn't just not make it to the theater for this one; I actively avoided it.
  2. Drumline ~ Never heard of this one. All the reviews seem to rave about it, though.
  3. The Santa Clause 2 - The Mrs. Clause ~ SO not interested.
  4. A Chorus Line ~ Loved the stage play. Hated the film.
  5. Two Weeks Notice ~ Again with the Sandra Bullock!
  6. The X-Files - The Complete Seventh Season ~ And again with the sequels! Seeing as how I didn't buy seasons 1-6 of this program, and how I watched maybe 3 episodes when it was actually on the air, it's not a perfect fit.
  7. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir ~ This could be the one hit on the list.
  8. Joe Versus the Volcano ~ OK, I admit, I'm a sucker for cult films, so this one might be on target, too. I'll check it out on TBS or TNT first, though.
  9. Star Trek - Nemesis ~ That's my husband, not me.
  10. Steps to the Altar ~ Quilting mysteries aren't really my thing.
  11. Carl Hiassen's South Florida Three-Book Set ~ No comment.
  12. Absolute Rage ~ Hope the book is easier to follow than the synopsis.
  13. The Associate ~ OK, I read mysteries occasionally. Usually ones with some kind of hook, though—a sleuthing Jane Austen, genX noir—not just Grisham-type legal thrillers.
  14. Star Trek - Insurrection ~ Again, you're thinking of my husband.
  15. The Summons ~ See 13, above.

Ok, maybe I don't have a case for libel. But really, is there no one out there with whom I have 10 of the following items in common?

Of course, Amazon doesn't know about the books I've bought at Tower Books, or Books Inc., or Book Buyers, or any number of other bookstores I seem to be inexorably drawn to. Perhaps if I rate a few of the titles I've bought elsewhere on Amazon, it will find someone more like me. Somehow, I doubt she'll be from Texas.

Posted by Lori at 2:03 PM
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April 23, 2003

Seabiscuit in Motion

I watched the American Experience episode on Seabiscuit last night (we Tivo'ed it, which accounts for the 1 day lag). For me, the book was a bit too long, but the TV program left me wanting more (perhaps another 30 minutes or so?). I'm glad they left out some of the (what I thought were) extraneous details, such as Charles Howard's beginnings in San Francisco and the shitpile and brothel in Tijuana, but I wanted more on how Seabiscuit was trained, ridden, and raced. I think for Al it was perfect, because he filled in some of the gaps with info he remembered me reading/paraphrasing to him from the book (for example, when he watched the footage of the match race with War Admiral, he said, "Oh, is that the homemade bell you were telling me about?") without having to have slogged through all the book's deep background.

Having said that, the broadcast was a great companion to the book, and is worth watching for the commentary by Norah Christianson (daughter of jockey Red Pollard) and for the still photos and film footage of Seabiscuit and his entourage. As to the former, I have no idea why Christianson was so compelling, but she's what stuck with me after the fact. Perhaps it was the emotion with which she related her parts of the story. Regarding the visuals, for all the extra info that the book had, what I missed most was more photos, and the documentary (of course) serves them up. I remembered Meg using the phrase "such a Seabiscuit look!" in one of her blog entries, but what struck me wasn't so much the expressions of the horse as the expressions of the jockey. You can tell Red Pollard has a stretchy, twinkle-in-the-eye face from the few photos in the book, but you really get a sense of the guy when you see him moving.

As a side note, in between reading the book and watching American Experience, Al and I went to the track this weekend. I spent an entire spring at Golden Gate Fields during a personal depression a few years back, but I'd only been to Bay Meadows once, for a company picnic in the infield. The place took on more significance when we realized how long it had been around, and that Seabiscuit had raced there many years ago. I had suspected that Tanforan had once been a racetrack based on the racehorses on its signage, but I didn't know for sure until I read Seabiscuit. Neither of us would have guessed that Bay Meadows and Tanforan both existed at the same time and had such illustrious histories. This connection to the past made spending a Sunday at Bay Meadows very appealing, no depression required.

Anyway, we had a lovely day watching the horses run and attempting to pick the winners. I tend to go for the exotic bets, so while I occasionally guessed right (getting two out of three horses for a Trifecta in one race, and one half of a Quinella in a couple others), I didn't win any money. Al, being a hedger, won a few times by betting on a horse to place or show. The nice thing about betting on horses is that you don't get that icky feeling you do when you lose money in a casino. The horses are so beautiful and powerful and cool, and the outdoor track is so completely the opposite of the cavelike, smoke-choked casinos that you can't but feel happy—even when you've left $50 behind.

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April 23, 2003

Connections and Coincidences

I just noticed, after posting Seabiscuit in Motion, that the grandson of Red Pollard commented on my original Seabiscuit post yesterday. Wild. Oh, and then I Googled Norah Christianson (to make sure that I'd spelled her name correctly), and I came across this review of the American Experience episode on Seabiscuit. It mentions that the footage of the workouts was actually shot for the movie The Black Stallion (based on the book I'd loved as a pre-teen, and which I'd been reminded of when I read Seabiscuit). Circular.

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May 19, 2003

And The Band Played On

I finished reading And the Band Played On on the plane back from Baltimore yesterday. Truly an amazing, powerful book—part medical mystery, part political thriller, part history of the evolution of the gay community—it was difficult to put down. I highly recommend the paperback version, since you'll want to carry this 672-page monster with you wherever you might find a few minutes to read.

There were many revelations in the book (at least for me); it was interesting to learn, for example, that while San Francisco was considered the "AIDS capital," New York City had three times as many cases. San Francisco was not AIDS central because everyone was infected, as most Americans seemed to think, but rather because it was the only city that was implementing any kind of coordinated AIDS policy.

I also didn't realize until I checked the copyright date, pages before finishing the book, that it was published in 1987. I'd heard of the book before, but I hadn't realized that it had been out for so long. That made it even more remarkable that so much of the information in the book was news to me; apparently, the biggest revelation of all was how ill-informed about the unfolding of the AIDS epidemic I'd been.

There were many read-out-loud-to-Al-in-amazement moments, but it's hard to think of them all now. As I said to Al when I finished the book, I can't imagine starting the book again at the beginning, trying to go back to when I didn't know what I know now. For me, this book has become the dividing line between my Before and my After.

Posted by Lori at 12:59 PM
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September 16, 2003

From Austen to Disco

I've been on a bit of a Jane Austen binge lately. I re-read my three favorites, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Emma, and now I've moved on to the never-before-read Northanger Abbey. I probably should have re-read Persuasion or picked up a new Jane Austen mystery instead; either would have been a bit less dull. Northanger Abbey is short, however, and probably easily finished. And today I've been watching the movie versions of Emma and Pride and Prejudice (and I'm considering renting Sense and Sensibility) while I pack to cheer me.

The book I most want to read next is a huge departure from the world of Jane Austen: Disco Bloodbath, by James St. James. After searching book stores in vain and being told that it was out of print, I learned today that it's been re-published under the title Party Monster, to coincide with the release of the film of the same name (which itself is based on Disco Bloodbath). Whew! I knew that the media conglomerates wouldn't let such a golden co-marketing opportunity escape them, which is why it was so puzzling that Disco Bloodbath could be out of print.

So why do I want to read this book? Because I saw the movie last week with my friend Kristin, and I want to know more about the people involved. We saw the film at the fabulous Castro theater in San Francisco; knowing very little about the movie ahead of time—only that it was about NY club kids in the late 80s, and that it was Macaulay Culkin's first film in years—Kristin and I were amused to find that we seemed to be out on Date Night in the Castro. About 10 minutes in, we realized that we couldn't have seen the movie in a more perfect setting, with a more perfect crowd: It was as much about drag queens, gender-bending, and elaborate costumes as it was about parties and drugs.

Macaulay Culkin's performance, as Kristin put it, "was so 10th-grade play", but Seth Green, as the aforementioned St. James, was hysterical and wonderful. He's so often cast as a wise-cracking geek (Enemy of the State, The Italian Job, the Austen Powers series) that you don't really get to appreciate his range—but believe me, he's got one, and it's on display here. According to the New York Times the movie will get wider release in October, but I imagine it'll still only be in small theaters. See it surrounded by drag queens, if you can.

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March 21, 2004

Bookweek

This has been a week of books for me. I hadn't read much since my Austen binge back in the fall; after zipping through Party Monster, I was stymied by a rather boring biography of Ben Franklin. What snapped me out of the reading lull was our vacation in February, which prompted me to grab a bought-years-ago-but-never-read title off the shelf in our guest room: Soul of a New Machine, by Tracy Kidder. I then decided to tackle The Da Vinci Code, which I'd wanted to read for over a year; my mom got to it first, and she lent me her copy. I read it in about two days, and I found myself wanting to write a capsule review immediately after finishing it.

This led me to finally convert my previously-static book reviews into a mySql database and add some new reviews... which in turn has made me want to read more.

Lucky for me, Al and I decided to spend most of the day today weeding through our combined book collections. We pulled out old paystubs, airline tickets, grocery lists, and drugstore receipts that originally served as bookmarks but that now serve as lifemarks and separated the volumes into Keep, Sell, and Toss piles. I also started a fourth, unlabeled pile, which I referred to as "Books I Want to Read (or Finally Get Rid Of) Soon". I have a habit of buying books off the New Releases or bargain tables three or four at a time, and then only reading one of them. I forget that I have a backlog of interesting books—or I switch from non-fiction to fiction or vice versa—and I go out and buy three or four more. Al must do something similar, because he had quite a few books that he'd never read, either.

So the reason the sorting turned out to be lucky for me is that I'm trying to be more frugal—and with a stack of books I can read now, and another stack I can trade at a used bookstore for other titles later, I may not have to buy a new book for a good long while.

Among the books I bought for myself months or years ago and forgot about:

Camberwell Beauty, by Jenny Eclaire (purchased, I think, on my last trip to London in 2001)
In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner, by Elizabeth George
an underachiever's diary, by benjamin anastas
Revenge of the Cootie Girls, by Sparkle Hayter
The Last Manly Man, by Sparkle Hayter
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, by Gregory Maguire
The Secret Diary of Anne Boleyn, by Robin Maxwell (ordered from Amazon four years ago)
Jack, Knave and Fool, by Bruce Alexander (picked up at a Girls' Brunch book swap a couple years ago)
Strawberry Tatoo, by Lauren Henderson (ditto)
Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner
Blue Highways, by William Least Heat-Moon (purchased on Amazon in 2001 on somebody's recommendation, I can't remember whose)

From Al's collection, I added to the pile:

Next, by Michael Lewis
J.K. Lasser's Real Estate Investing, by Michael C. Thomsett
Power Plays: Shakespeare's Lessons in Leadership and Management, by John O. Whitney and Tina Packer
The New No-Nonsense Landlord, by Richard H. Jorgensen
Founding Brothers, by Joseph J. Ellis

I'm not sure where to start... but first I have to finish a book I'm not particularly enjoying, but which I want to get through so I can move it to the Sell pile (Secret Celebrity, by Carol Wolper, whose The Cigarette Girl I read a couple years ago and liked). Who needs a job when there are books to be read?

Posted by Lori at 9:40 PM
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August 26, 2004

9/11 Revisited

I have a bunch of things I wanted to write about (and probably will at some point over the next couple days), but the thing that's jumped to the top of the list with a bullet (or a boxcutter, as the case may be), is the 9/11 Commission Report.

I finished a rather innocuous Jane Austen mystery the night before last, so I picked up the next book in my pile, which happened to be the 9/11 report. I was riveted from the first page; it's the little details about the hijackers, the hijackings, and the various responses at all levels, from airport ticket counter personnel to security screeners to air traffic control, the FAA, and NORAD, that completely and utterly fascinated me.

I started reading huge passages out loud to Al, but after about five or six of these, he asked me to stop. He found it too unnerving and sad, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to sleep. For me, sadness didn't really come into play. There were things I found a bit shocking, but for the most part I was riveted in a forensic sense (in the same way I can look at the truly gruesome photos in Practical Homicide Investigation and say to myself, "ah, so that's what a .45 caliber handgun does to a skull when fired at close range").

I read a bit more after Al's request that I stop reading aloud, but as I was tired (and a little concerned that Al might be right about the details disturbing my sleep—at this point, just about everything else, from a sore belly to leg cramps to hellacious heartburn to a hungry cat, is making it impossible to sleep well, and adding another reason for sleeplessness didn't seem like a good idea), I turned out the light in the middle of the section on NORAD and the FAA.

As it happened, I fell asleep right away and slept better than I have in days (except for one incident in the middle of the night where Al apparently tried to comfort me—I must have been whimpering—and accidentally woke me up instead). I didn't dream about hijackers or desperate passengers trying to break down the door to the cockpit on Flight 93 or the NORAD chain of command. Instead I dreamed about joining Al on a 160-mile walk in Montana that was somehow related to his fantasy football draft (which is tonight), about forgetting to pack my thyroid medication for the trip, and about Jonah sharing our accommodations there (and taking too long in the shower). I slept straight through until 8:30am without having to get up to pee or walk around to relieve the pressure on my sore hips, without Annie waking me up by trying to pry open her food bowl down in the living room, and without stomach acids trying to burn a hole in my esophagus. I can't wait to read more of this amazing report tonight.

Posted by Lori at 10:34 AM | TrackBack (0) | Permalink
October 21, 2004

Return of the Reviews

A while back I decided to revive my book reviews by moving the existing reviews to a mySQL database and adding new ones. The database was on the fritz for a few months, which put a damper on reviewing books as I read them, but now that it's back up and working again, I've decided to link my "Additional Reading" titles to the reviews rather than to Amazon.com.

Here's how it will work: The heading, "Additional Reading", will always be linked to the main review page. The book I'm currently reading (and therefore haven't reviewed yet), will link to Amazon.com, so you can see what it's about. The remaining books in the list (usually the last five or so that I've read) will be linked to their individual reviews. Hope you find the reviews somewhat useful, and that they lead you to some worthwhile titles. If you think you can discern my taste from them, feel free to make recommendations by e-mailing me (given that I own this domain, and you know my name, you can probably guess my e-mail address :).

Posted by Lori at 3:43 PM | TrackBack (0) | Permalink
October 26, 2004

Miscellany

A few random items:

  • dj blurb opened up comments on his endorsement post, and I loved reading all most of the different points of view. (Most—but not all—commenters support Kerry, but whom each person supports not as interesting as why.)
  • Al and I start childbirth classes tonight. This week's pregnancy newsletter from ParentsPlace.com seemed to suggest that I'd be nervous about the birth by now, but for some reason I'm not.
  • I am loving The Price of Loyalty: George W. Bush, the White House, and the Education of Paul O'Neill. Fascinating book that is helping me make the distinction between Bush and his inner circle and other, honest Republicans whose views simply differ from mine (or don't, actually). I've been reading huge sections of it out loud to Al, a sure sign that it's a life-changing read (similar to And the Band Played On and Nickel and Dimed).
  • I am not a designer. So sue me.
  • As promised, I converted the all hallows eve blog (and its archives) to Movable Type last night. I can't wait until Sunday!
  • I'm making headway (literally) on my Patrick costume; I got his eyes, eyebrows, and mouth done last night, and I'm looking less like a klansman. This afternoon's project: painting purple flowers on his bermuda shorts (actually a pair of green Gap Body sweatpants, pinned up a few inches).
  • Warning: There will be another post about Annie later today. With photographs.
  • Today is my 36th birthday. And I feel fine.
Posted by Lori at 3:31 PM
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February 18, 2005

Friday Miscellany

Herewith, some random observations that have been on my mind for a while and which I have not managed to blog about before now:

Reading Material
I don't know what I was thinking when I stopped at the library the other day; I'm still not done with Founding Brothers, I haven't finished the February issue of Martha Stewart Living (although like all good porn, MSL is pretty timeless), and I'm drowning in Wall Street Journals (I find those crazy pro-business conservatives so amusing!). Luckily both of the books I wanted, Chain of Command and It's My Party Too, were checked out. Of course, yesterday I added another title to my list after the TiVo refused to cooperate and changed to CNN's interview with the author instead of Your Weather Today on the Weather Channel: Honeymoon With My Brother, by Franz Wisner . Sounds like my kind of book (note to self: mention it to brothers Eric & Matt, who've also traveled the world together).

And Marijuana is Still Illegal?
In the WTF department: A new beer from Budweiser with caffeine, guarana, and ginseng. Rather than "beer with something extra", call it "Red Bull with alcohol".

WTF Part II
Last evening Al took Austen out for a walk so I could get some work done, and the plastic cover he put on the stroller to keep Austen warm & cozy blew off. A woman helped Al retrieve it and then exclaimed over the cuteness of the baby. "I wonder if he'll grow up to run a dry cleaners or a restaurant?" she said. When Al related the story, it took me a minute to realize why she identified those two particular possibilities. Weird that both Al and I would experience racial prejudice in the same week (the same week we happened to see Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, which identifies—and pokes fun at—so many racial stereotypes).

What is Life Teaching These People?
Speaking of weird things people have said to us about Austen, in the first two weeks of his life no less than three women—at different times and places—remarked on his cuteness and then followed up with, "who would ever want to harm a baby?" Uh, yeah. Luckily these comments stopped (for a while there every woman I met on a street corner asked instead, "are you breastfeeding?"), but then something weird happened in the La Colombe coffee store the other day: An old homeless gentleman was trying to engage the baristas in conversation, and in so doing he was blocking my access to the bar where the baristas set up everyone's coffee. The female barista brought this to his attention, and the homeless man turned to me and said, "You know, I would never hurt your baby." When he saw the startled look on my face, he followed up with, "you know why? Because then I would die." "Yes," I replied. "At my hands."

Posted by Lori at 12:49 PM
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March 27, 2005

Vignettes of Enjoyment

Things I'm enjoying but don't have time to write individual posts about:

John Adams, by David McCullough
Honeymoon With My Brother hadn't come in yet at the library, and I was in the mood for more Revolutionary generation reading anyway after finishing Founding Brothers, so I picked this up at the branch library off Rittenhouse Square (called the Philadelphia City Institute branch, not Rittenhouse, strangely enough) last week. I was a bit worried by its size, and that it might be as dry as the Benjamin Franklin biography I tried to read for six months in 2003-2004, but it's so wonderful that I can't wait to get in bed every night to read. It got me on the first page, and it's been just as absorbing since.

Fage Total 2% Yogurt
Man, this stuff is fabulous, especially with a spoonful of strawberry jam. At $1.69 (a whole $1 more than regular yogurt), it's more of a weekly treat than a daily indulgence, though I'd consider trading a Starbucks coffee for the smooth texture and incredibly fresh taste of this yogurt.

Iron Chef America
All the drama (and most of the kitsch) of the original, plus incredible food facts and breathless foodie enthusiasm from host Alton Brown. This second try at an American version of Iron Chef really hits the mark, managing to impress, inspire, and inform while whetting the appetite. (And thankfully, William Shatner is nowhere to be found.)

MT-Moderate
I've pretty much vanquished comment spam on all my blogs with a combination of moderation and MT-Blacklist... which means that the spammers have turned to trackbacks to propagate their filthy casino, porn, and pill URLs. I went to Jay Allen's blog to see if there was any news on the trackback spam front, and I found a post where he mentioned MT-Moderate. It overlaps with the built-in MT comment moderation, but since it's possible to remove the comment moderation module and only use the trackback moderation module, it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. And it plays nicely with MT-Blacklist. There's probably some unneeded rebuilding of entries (since the trackbacks that MT-Blacklist would normally remove from an entry never made it there), but all in all, a good, easy-to-use solution for managing trackback spam.

Posted by Lori at 1:01 PM | TrackBack (0) | Permalink
August 1, 2005

Harry, Ron, and Hermione...

I just had to give a post here that title, since Al and I have taken to saying it to each other all the time now. (It was Al who pointed out to me that an amazing number of sentences in the Harry Potter series start with, "Harry, Ron, and Hermione", but J.K. Rowling also acknowledges it in her recent TIME Magazine article.) We've been listening to the books on the iPod (with a Y-adapter to accommodate two sets of headphones) at night, and I've been listening to the Half-Blood Prince on CD in the car when I run errands (I finished the actual hardcopy of the book a couple days after its release). I'm so glad that I've finally gotten Al hooked on Harry Potter—even if the allure for him has more to do with Jim Dale's voice characterizations than with the stories themselves.

Anyway, the reason I'm posting about this is that there's a wonderful editorial in yesterday's New York Times about growing up with Harry. Read it before it gets archived.

Posted by Lori at 2:04 PM | TrackBack (0) | Permalink
August 12, 2005

Return of the Book Reviews

It's been so long since I moaned about the rm -r debacle—and so many things have returned in the past six months—that you might have forgotten it happened. I haven't, and I've been waiting for an opportunity to reconstruct a few parts of the site that have remained missing. That opportunity has come, and one of the parts I'm working on is the book reviews, most of which I've been able to salvage from archive.org and Google's cache.

I've moved them back to avocado8 (they were briefly at lori-and-al) and changed the database structure a bit, so if you have any old links to reviews, you'll need to update them. I'm also still in the process of adding back as many reviews as I can find, so not everything is there yet... but hopefully, it will be soon.

As I add new reviews in, I'll resume the practice of linking the book titles under "Additional Reading" on this blog's homepage to the reviews. (If I haven't written a review yet, the title will still link to the Amazon.com page for the book.) In the meantime, let me know if you find any broken links or other weirdness in the reviews. Thanks!

Posted by Lori at 10:57 AM
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November 2, 2005

Leaf Peeping

It's important to know that when I say "leaf peeping", I say it the way Al would—in a sort of high-pitched, introducing-His-Majesty-the-King fanfare style. LlllLeaf PppPeeping! OK, now that the correct pronounciation of "leaf peeping" has been established, here's what we did today:

Austen and I drove from Philadelphia to Danbury, CT, leaf peeping all the way. Well, I was, anyway. Austen SLEPT the entire way—all 3+ hours—only waking as we entered Connecticut. Most of the areas we passed through were past peak, colorwise, but there were some pockets of vibrant color nonetheless. The clumps of yellows, browns, oranges, and greens in southern New Jersey and western Connecticut brought to mind spray-painted model train trees, while the deep reds and oranges mixed with leafless dark brown branches at the northern end of the Garden State Parkway reminded me of a dying fire.

I made a game of scanning for the most vibrantly colored trees that still had a full complement of leaves (like the amazing yellow-orange one that I admired—but forgot to photograph—in Schyulkill River Park yesterday), which made the drive more interesting. Also making the drive interesting were a discussion of Abraham Lincoln with his latest biographer, Doris Kearns Goodwin, on WHYY's Radio Times, and an audio CD of Joseph J. Ellis' His Excellency, George Washington. So far I'm enjoying learning about George Washington's pre-Revolutionary adventures, though after reading/listening to David McCullough's John Adams and 1776, I think I prefer McCullough's measured revelation of colorful details to Ellis' ya-ta-da-ta-da-da, nudge-nudge, wink-wink style. Still, I learned a lot about Washington in about 90 minutes today; the most surprising detail for me was the pattern of others' deaths making room for Washington to advance. I do love a good history story, and I'm finding that listening to these epic histories on audiobook is very satisfying. (I only wish my car stereo had a 3-second jump back button like Tivo does so I could review what I missed when I was scanning my Triptik, reading road signs, or zoning out for a bit. Alas, the only option is to move forward or back an entire track at a time, and the tracks are each about 45-60 minutes long.)

In addtion to the audiobook, I also brought two hardbacks with me: The Search, which I'd forgotten to add to my Additional Reading list in the sidebar, and The Great Unraveling, which I picked up after hearing Paul Krugman on Fresh Air a couple weeks ago. I love business/technology histories as much as I do the more traditional kind, so I'm enjoying The Search. Battelle's writing style grated on me a bit at first, but I'm used to it now, and the narrative and details are interesting enough to keep me reading. The Great Unraveling I will start as soon as I'm done with The Search; I can tell already that I'm not going to finish it before its Nov. 9 due date (at the library). I've long enjoyed Krugman's editorials in the New York Times, but it really wasn't until I heard him (and another economist) discussing the Bush Administration's plans for dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina that I really got interested in reading any of his books. Anyway, I hope to have that started soon (and reviews of the last few books I've read posted to my book reviews area soon, too).

I don't think I'll get much reading done tonight, unless I step into the bathroom; the Boopster went down an hour ago, and I don't want to risk waking him up by turning on the light next to the bed. I'm crossing my fingers that he'll stay down until at least 5am, since I don't have Al here to take him in the morning, and if he keeps me awake all night I'll be useless for driving tomorrow. With that in mind, I think I'll probably go to sleep myself in a few minutes. It's only 8pm, but with the sleep deficit I've been running for the past 13 months or so, I should have no trouble conking out right away.

Posted by Lori at 8:02 PM | TrackBack (0) | Permalink
November 14, 2006

Next Up: Refactoring, by Martin Fowler

I am running on a ridiculous sleep deficit brought on, not by NaBloPoMo—which I've actually been keeping up with rather well, don't you think?—but by The Blind Side, which I've stayed up late (past 1:30am several nights in the last week) reading. If you've read Moneyball (and if you haven't, click on that link and buy it right now!), you know something not only about baseball, but about how Michael Lewis can suck you into a sports story and make you want to know MORE. If you've read Moneyball, you're probably a bigger fan of baseball, certainly a better fan of baseball, and possibly even a fan of the Oakland As, whether you live in the Bay Area or not. I'd say it's a good bet you're also a fan of Scott Hatteberg, even though he's with the Reds now.

In The Blind Side, Michael Lewis does for the NFL offensive lineman (and more specifically, the Left Tackle), football in general, and Michael Oher in particular what he did for the Oakland As, baseball, and Scott Hatteberg in Moneyball. Namely, he makes you stay up all night reading. He makes you poke the person next to you to say, "did you know linemen only made $90K a year in the late 80s? I didn't know that" and "oh my god HE KNEW THE MATERIAL" and a bunch of other random things, some coherent, some not. He's made football announcers and sports analysts everywhere talk about the blind side the way baseball announcers now talk about plate discipline and on-base percentage. I've been catching most of my football on the radio lately due to Sunday hockey games, but I bet when I watch on TV this weekend, some on-air analyst will circle the pass rusher and the left tackle and make a point about how a block made that pass possible, or how a missed block resulted in that ferocious sack.

At the same time he's raising the profile of offensive linemen and left tackles everywhere, in The Blind Side Michael Lewis is also telling the story of Michael Oher, a poor kid from the wrong side of Memphis with incredible natural ability but no future—until he ends up at a Christian high school and finds himself adopted by a rich, white, evangelical family who give him the love and support (and the advantages of being part of the upper class) that had been utterly absent in his life. You'll shake your head in wonder a few times, you might cry through some of it, and certainly you will laugh your ass off in the section about the Mumford-Briarcrest high school football game. And you'll probably be checking to see whether Ole Miss will be on TV this Saturday.

I feel like a much more educated football fan for having read The Blind Side, and I'm glad I met Michael Oher through its pages. I'm also more than happy to be finished with it because dammit, I need some sleep!

Posted by Lori at 11:46 PM
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August 16, 2007

Rollergirl Review

Rollergirl: Totally True Tales From the TrackI read Rollergirl: Totally True Tales From the Track forever ago, and I've been procrastinating about writing about it ever since. I wanted to do it justice, and the words just weren't coming to me. I'm not sure they'll come to me now, but I'm writing about it anyway because saying SOMETHING is better than saying nothing if I want anyone to ready this book—and I definitely do. (I've already passed my copy on to a friend, with instructions to pass it on to another friend when she's through.)

I've never met the book's author, Melissa Joulwan, but she's married to my friend Dave, whom I've known since he joined the Dreamweaver advisory council back in 1997 or 1998, when we were working on the way early versions of the product. Dave and Melissa moved to Austin, Texas around the time I was learning to play ice hockey, and Dave and I have been comparing my experiences on the ice with Melissa's on the track off and on ever since. When Dave told me Mel had written a book about those experiences, I went straight to Amazon to order it.

The cover of the book is incredibly sassy, and it's been reviewed in Penthouse, so you might get the idea that it's "all icing an no cake" (as my 12th grade Sociology teacher said of my oral report on Sex in Sweden). While there's definitely plenty of icing, in the form of the sex-kitten-meets-Rosie-the-Riveter personas of the skaters, there's also a fascinating history of the sport and spectacle of roller derby and its latest resurgence as a flat-track phenomenon.

I'd known that Mel was a founding member of the Texas Rollergirls, but I'd had no idea how close roller derby had come to being a flash-in-the-pan spectacle again. The drama! The intrigue! (The cool rockabilly fans that could only have come out of Texas!) If it weren't for the true grit of some tough, organized, inspriring women who issued a rallying cry of "by the skaters, for the skaters!", the sport never would have spread across the country the way it has. (That's right, in case you hadn't heard: Roller derby isn't just in Texas anymore. Philadelphia has a league, so does Baltimore—check out epmd's cool photos of the bouts on Flickr—and, in a weird coincidence, our friend and former nanny Hannah ended up writing about Portland, Maine's fledgling league during her stint at the Salt Institute for Documentary Studies. There's probably one in your area, too.)

I was so inspired by this book and attracted to the derby fun that I gave serious thought to trying it myself when I finished reading. I finally decided that for me, ice hockey is the perfect sport. In many ways it's similar to roller derby, except that instead of putting on a persona, I put on a lot of pads. The transformative power is the same, though: I feel *different* in my gear. Stronger, tougher, more assertive... and yep, even sexy, despite all the curves being bundled up. Now, if we could just get the kind of beer-drinking, fun-loving, you-go-girl-spouting fans that roller derby enjoys, we'd be all set!

Posted by Lori at 9:43 PM
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January 2, 2008

Books for Beaners

It seems like we've been on a book-buying binge for a year or more—and that doesn't even include the books we've been getting at the library. I *love* being surrounded by books, and we seem to be doing our best to bury the Beaner in them, too. One of my favorite things to do is share the books we love by giving copies as gifts to other children, but I can only spread the love so far. That's why I thought I'd share some of our favorites here, too, with two goals in mind: to let anyone reading this in on some great books, and also to elicit your favorites in the comments. This entry is obviously about children's books; I'll say a few words about the grown-up books I've been reading (one of the delights of this holiday season has been TIME TO READ) in another entry.

The Wheels on the BusThe Wheels on the Bus by Paul O. Zelinsky
The perfect gift for a two year-old, this book is still a hit with the Beaner at age 3. It's an amazing pop-up book that you can sing instead of read, which gives the child a chance to participate instead of being a passive listener.

Zin! Zin! Zin! A ViolinZin! Zin! Zin! A Violin by Lloyd Moss
Another long-standing favorite. Hannah picked this one out at the library when the Beaner was about 18 months old, I think; I discovered it on the day it was due, and immediately put in an order for our own copy on Amazon. I usually give the hardback version as a gift, but I highly recommend the Stories to Go paperback version. This is the kind of book you'll want to slip into your bag to bring on trips. It's also relatively easy to memorize, so you can shout out sections of it when your kid is in the tub or any other time you want to surprise and entertain a child. The meter is mesmerizing.

Chicka Chicka Boom BoomChicka Chicka Boom Boom by Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault
Hannah got this book for the Beaner for Christmas last year, if I remember correctly, and it was an instant hit. Like Zin! Zin!, it's easy to memorize and therefore to recite anytime, anyplace. The appeal has lingered, I think, because of the catchy meter and "chicka chicka BOOM BOOM!" refrain, but also because as the letters become more recognizable to the Beaner, some of the jokes become clearer, too.

Leonardo, The Terrible MonsterKnuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken IdentityLeonardo, The Terrible Monster by Mo Willems
This year's Christmas present from Hannah (she really knows how to pick 'em!). Although I am not a giant fan of Willems' Pigeon books, I can't resist this story (or Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity, which might even be more appealing to parents than kids, though the Beaner loves it, too). The Beaner's favorite parts are when Leonardo vows to "scare the tuna salad out of someone" (there's something just plain hilarious about that phrase, I must admit), and when I yell "Boo!" at the end. He usually asks me to read it twice, and sometimes three times. It's definitely his absolute favorite at the moment.

Grumpy BirdGrumpy Bird
I love reading this book to the Beaner, even though he's rarely grumpy (sad sometimes, yes, and occasionally hysterical, but grumpy not so much); I think I see myself in Grumpy Bird, if truth be told. Our copy was a birthday gift from the Beaner's friend SPL in California (to whom we have given Zin! Zin! and The Wheels on the Bus :).

Good Night, Blue! Good Night, Blue
The perfect bedtime book, as there's an opportunity for a song and a firm good night at the end. I whip this one out if the Beaner asks for a third story, and I pack it in his suitcase whenever we go on a trip. Blue's nighttime ritual is slightly different from ours, but it's close enough that the Beaner recognizes it as the bedtime routine.

Paddington Paddington, Paddington Bear in the Garden, and Paddington Bear at the Circus

I actually bought our original Paddington book before the Beaner was born—I wanted to photocopy some of the illustrations and frame them as part of his travel-themed room—and then stuck it in the bookshelf with the rest of the classics that he wouldn't be able to appreciate for a while.

I pulled it out on a whim a few months ago and was delighted to find that his attention span had lengthened to the point where he would not only sit still for the entire story, but also ask that I read it again. (He can also get through Make Way for Ducklings now.) As soon as that happened, I went in search of more Paddington picture books. It turns out that the original Paddington stories were for the 8-12 set, but I was able to locate two more picture books illustrated by R.W. Alley that are aimed at the 3 or 4 to 8s. All three are now in heavy rotation.

Posted by Lori at 7:46 PM
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January 3, 2008

Books I've Been Reading, Part I: Dreaming in Code

I started reading Dreaming in Code before Thanksgiving, and to be honest, I haven't finished it yet. I originally checked it out from the library, but a few chapters in I began to regret that I didn't have my own copy. I was dying to scribble in the margins. When the desire to scribble became unbearable, over Thanksgiving weekend, I finally hit on the idea of putting my scribblings on Post-It notes and pasting them to the pages. I knew I'd never be able to finish by the time the book was due at the library, and when I bought my own copy, I could just transfer the notes over. (I was thinking I'd actually copy the notes onto the pages of the book, but moving them as-is proved just as satisfying, and simpler.)

Dreaming in CodeSo, why did I want to scribble? A couple reasons. One, I was fascinated by the history of software development as outlined in this book. I've worked on a software development team for 10 years, but since I came from a web, writing, and self-taught programming background rather than a formal computer science arena, the only way I know to develop software is The Dreamweaver Way... and I don't even know what that way would be called in general software development terms. (I realized this when I was in a meeting a few months ago and a couple of my colleagues started talking about Waterfall vs. Iterative/Agile methods; I'd heard of these terms, obviously, but I couldn't have explained the differences or benefits of the different approaches.) So learning about things like The Mythical Man-Month and how modern approaches to software development came to be was totally fascinating. I can see now WHY we do things the way we do on our team, and make some guesses about why our process works for us.

The other reason I wanted to scribble is that I'm familiar with the project that the book is about. Al was one of the original hires at the Open Source Applications Foundation (OSAF), and if I'm not mistaken, he was also the first to leave. (He's mentioned briefly—and identified somewhat incorrectly—in the book, but since he opted not to talk to the author while the book was being written, his role on the project isn't discussed in depth, and his departure isn't mentioned at all.) I knew virtually nothing about the project's fate after he left aside from the early public announcements about Chandler, so it was interesting to get the inside scoop on how slow and laborious the development process was. I obviously still don't know how it ends, but from what I've read so far, it doesn't look good: I have lots of Post-Its stuck to my book that say things like "SAME MEETING *AGAIN*!!!"

I don't feel equipped to give much of a review of Dreaming in Code, partly because I haven't finished it yet, and partly because of my personal, if tangential, connection to the story. One thing I will say is that I think a better title for the book would have been Coding a Dream. I also think it's likely that I'll return to this book as a reference—or a bibliography—over time.

Posted by Lori at 10:45 PM
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January 27, 2008

Books I've Been Reading, Part II

I'm trying to (a) read more this year, and (b) pay attention to what I'm reading. I seem to be getting to a point in my life that I actually can't remember whether I've read something or not—a day I never thought would come. For years I've wondered why my mom penciled notes into the front of books in her bookcase that said, "Read 4/89" or "Read 7/03". NOW I KNOW.

I used to keep detailed records of what I read; it's how I ended up starting the Lori's Book Reviews section of my site back in 1997 or 1998, before Amazon had its own reviews. Somewhere around 2000, however, I got so busy with hockey and meeting and dating Al and being somewhat social (I know!) that I sort of let the book reviews languish. I've been half-heartedly adding reviews to the database that I set up after the great rm -r debacle, but I haven't been keeping good records at all.

One of the few New Year's resolutions I made this year was to keep better track of what I've read, when I read it, and what I thought of it. To that end I've returned to my 1998 method of entering book titles, dates finished, and numerical ratings into my Palm Pilot (now iPhone). I'm still not sure if I'll stick to the tried-and-true method of waiting 6-12 months before writing reviews in an effort to keep them brief (I find that the more time passes between when I finish the book and when I write about it, the more likely I am to remember just the highlights), nor whether I'll just write the reviews here and paste them into the book review database, vice versa, or something else.

So far I've got reviews to write for The Other Boleyn Girl, The United States of Arugula, and The Boleyn Inheritance, but before I do that, I want to encourage you to go out and buy the book I just finished: The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl by Shauna Reid. (The link goes to Amazon.ca because the book isn't available in the U.S. yet; if you live in the UK or Australia, you should be able to get it from Amazon.co.uk or by walking into your local bookseller and asking for it.)

It's an easy, absorbing, and memorable read; I keep thinking over bits of it, and have read passages out loud to Al. (The story about the Nutella both cracked me up and embarrassed me; while I have no love for Nutella in particular, the scenario of sneaking bits of my husband's treats until I've eaten them all, then replacing them to make amends, and then exploding when he JUST LEAVES THEM THERE IN THE CUPBOARD while they taunt me... well, let's just say it's familiar.) It's not a diet book, but a memoir about dieting, food issues, finding love (of both oneself and another), and getting support that isn't the least bit sappy or self-helpish. It's just wonderfully funny and insightful and fun to read—so go read it. I couldn't think of a single reason not to give it a 10.

Posted by Lori at 7:40 PM
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May 27, 2008

Taking a Page

Thanks to Al's superior parenting skills (and longer attention span when it comes to playing Car Dealership), I got to spend a lot of time reading this holiday weekend, and I finished Friday Night Lights last night. On Saturday night I came across a section that discussed the conservatism of West Texas in general and the 1988 presidential election in particular, and I was struck by its relevance to the current campaign.

I don't claim that the issues are exactly the same, or that Obama has much in common with Michael Dukakis in general, but the following section was enough to make me dog-ear the page.

Dukakis forces in Texas had thought they could win the state on the basis of the economy. They thought that the issues of gun control and the Pledge of Allegiance were emotional fads that would quickly die out. They never thought that Bush's rhetoric, a kinder, gentler vision of the "Morton Downey Show," would have much lasting effect. They patiently waited for the campaign to get back to the greater good of forging practical solutions to massive problems, but that shift never took place.

Perhaps just once Dukakis should have left the rarefied atmosphere of Boston and Harvard that seemed to entrap him no matter where he was, hopped in a car by himself, and taken a drive down one of those lonely, flat-as-a-pancake roads to the gleaming lights of a Friday night football game. As in ancient Rome, any road he chose would have gotten him there. He could have pulled down his tie and unbuttoned his collar. He could have gone to the concession stand to eat a frito pie and a chili dog and then wash it all down with one of those dill pickles that came carefully wrapped in silver foil. Instead of keeping track of the score, he could have sat in a corner of the stands to listen to the conversations around him as well as take note of what people were wearing, observed how they interacted with their children, listened to the songs the bands were playing, watched those balloons float into the air like doves of peace, and let the perfume of the Pepettes and the Golden Girls flow sweetly into his nostrils. He could have counted how many blacks were there, and how many Hispanics.

There was a heartbeat in those stands that dotted the Friday nights of Texas and Oklahoma and Ohio and Pennsylvania and Florida and all of America like a galaxy of stars, a giant, lurking heartbeat.

Michael Dukakis never heard that sound, and even if he had he probably would have dismissed it as some silly tribal rite practiced in the American boondocks by people who made no difference. But his opponent didn't make the same mistake. He had been down the lonely road to those games, where the heartbeat had resonated more spectacularly than in the healthiest newborn. He knew it was still as strong as ever. He knew what kind of values these people had.

Posted by Lori at 1:11 PM | Permalink
July 7, 2008

Reading the Last Page First

[I started a post about bing cherries and pear martinis in an effort to stay within the NaBloPoMo food theme, but I deleted it. While I love cherries, and I think there's room to improve my pear martini recipe, it felt forced. Instead, today I will post a tiny book-related rant.]

What the heck is UP with non-fiction books that provide a teaser chapter up front and then go back to the beginning (or worse, jump back halfway for a few chapters, then all the way later)? Al says this is normal documentary behavior; I say that I don't mind a Frontline-like summary up front, but then I want the story to just START AT THE BEGINNING, GODDAMMIT.

I'm looking at you, Feeding the Monster and Skunkworks.

Posted by Lori at 8:35 PM | Permalink
October 10, 2008

In the Five Minutes Before I Turn Out the Light, and the Forty It Now Takes Me to Fall Asleep

What I'm reading right now:

  1. Code Complete by Steve McConnell
    This is surprisingly absorbing so far. I carried a copy of the first edition—which I got through work—around with me through 3 or 4 cube (and two house) moves, always intending to read it but never getting around to it. Apparently I finally gave it away, because when I looked for it a few weeks ago, I couldn't find that copy. I ended up buying the second edition for $45 or so (!), and so far I haven't regretted it. It's relevant to current projects and future endeavors.
  2. Dealing With Difficult People, by Dr. Rick Brinkman and Dr. Rick Kirschner
    Shawna got this for me from the library this afternoon, and I bet I'll be able to finish it in one sitting; it's pretty slim. I got it confused with the somewhat more substantial Coping With Difficult People, which a friend gave me years ago and I never got around to reading.
  3. A Few Seconds of Panic by Stefan Fatsis
    I started this back in August, when I was still going to the gym regularly and had a routine of reading non-fiction at the gym and fiction at home. I stopped going to the gym when I started working late with the new job, and this book languished. I need to fit it back in somewhere, because it's great. (So great that Fatsis' other recent book, Word Freak, is already waiting on my nightstand.)
  4. David Copperfield (audiobook) by Charles Dickens
    I had to abandon this audiobook last night—I hope temporarily—in favor of the more cheerful Sense and Sensibility. I haven't read David Copperfield since 10th grade (and even then I only skimmed and didn't finish it), but already I was starting to feel sorry for the little chap, and if I remember correctly, it gets worse by the time he gets to London. It's just too sad for me right now.
Posted by Lori at 7:25 PM
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November 13, 2008

Just Because You Can Shop Online Doesn't Mean You're a Geek

Thanks to Molly for getting me all steamed about this via Twitter: No Starch Press, a subsidiary of famed technical book publisher O'Reilly, has just published How to Be a Geek Goddess.

Is it a book about how to hone your hacker skills? How to leverage your already-hefty technical knowledge and computer science training to become a respected leader in the tech community? Not if the book's description is anything to go by.

In How to Be a Geek Goddess, author Christina Tynan-Wood shares the expertise she gained while writing for magazines like PC World and PC Magazine but keeps the book light and conversational. Like advice from the geek girlfriends you always wished you had, the book explains topics in a way you'll understand: No patronizing guy bluster, unnecessary jargon, or information you aren't interested in, just the stuff you need to know to get the job done. You'll learn how to use your computer to get more done in less time, shop for gear, fit an ugly computer into a lovely living room, hang out in online communities, and keep yourself and your family safe online. Tynan-Wood covers basic and not-so-basic topics, like how to use VoIP to make inexpensive telephone calls over the Internet and set up a wireless network in your home.

This is not a book about how to become a geek goddess, because being able to shop online or match a laptop to your living room's decor do not make you a geek. They make you a 21st century human or an interior decorator, respectively. You don't need to be an expert in technology to reboot your computer, but you do need to be expert in and passionate about something—preferably something technical—in order to be considered a geek.

Seems to me that the title of the book should have been The Goddess' Guide to Using and Talking Tech, because it's aimed at women who already think of themselves as goddesses. To be a *Geek* Goddess, you have to be a geek first.

Posted by Lori at 12:49 PM
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November 14, 2008

Buy This Book

Back in January I ordered Shauna Reid's book The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl from Amazon UK on the recommendation of a Flickr acquaintance whose blog I've also been reading for years.

Here's what I said about it back then:

It's an easy, absorbing, and memorable read; I keep thinking over bits of it, and have read passages out loud to Al. (The story about the Nutella both cracked me up and embarrassed me; while I have no love for Nutella in particular, the scenario of sneaking bits of my husband's treats until I've eaten them all, then replacing them to make amends, and then exploding when he JUST LEAVES THEM THERE IN THE CUPBOARD while they taunt me... well, let's just say it's familiar.) It's not a diet book, but a memoir about dieting, food issues, finding love (of both oneself and another), and getting support that isn't the least bit sappy or self-helpish. It's just wonderfully funny and insightful and fun to read—so go read it. I couldn't think of a single reason not to give it a 10.

So why mention it again now? Because Dietgirl is finally scheduled for a U.S. release! No need to order from the UK anymore; you can now pre-order your copy on Amazon.com, and it'll come as a nice little post-Christmas/post-Hanukkah surprise.

Please, do it for me. Read this book.

dietgirl.jpg

Posted by Lori at 11:57 AM | Permalink
February 24, 2009

Skimpole on Responsibility

After a brief interlude in contemporary non-fiction (I highly recommend The Post-American World —the audiobook is read by the author, who has both a compelling argument and a compelling voice), I've returned to the classics on my Audible wishlist. I've been listening to Dickens' Bleak House, and a passage from it that I heard today struck me as particularly apropos to our times.

As they were to remain with us that day, and had taken their places to return by the coach next morning, I sought an opportunity of speaking to Mr. Skimpole. Our out-of-door life easily threw one in my way; and I delicately said, that there was a responsibility in encouraging Richard.

"Responsibility, my dear Miss Summerson?" he repeated, catching at the word with the pleasantest smile, "I am the last man in the world for such a thing. I never was responsible in my life —I can't be."

"I am afraid everybody is obliged to be," said I, timidly enough: he being so much older and more clever than I.

"No, really?" said Mr. Skimpole, receiving this new light with a most agreeable jocularity of surprise. "But every man's not obliged to be solvent ? I am not. I never was. See, my dear Miss Summerson," he took a handful of loose silver and halfpence from his pocket, "there's so much money. I have not an idea how much. I have not the power of counting. Call it four and ninepence — call it four pound nine. They tell me I owe more than that. I dare say I do. I dare say I owe as much as good-natured people will let me owe. If they don't stop, why should I? There you have Harold Skimpole in little. If that's responsibility, I am responsible."

The perfect ease of manner with which he put the money up again, and looked at me with a smile on his refined face, as if he had been mentioning a curious little fact about somebody else, almost made me feel as if he really had nothing to do with it.

Posted by Lori at 10:53 AM | Permalink
September 14, 2009

Save the Free Library

To be honest, I've sort of been ignoring the budget impasse that's been plaguing our Pennsylvania state government. I've been through several of these before in other states (and I remember well a couple federal ones), and everything always turns out OK in the end. There's partisan bickering, a few services that don't affect me shut down temporarily, and every public television and radio station in the state starts freaking out. It's annoying, but the effects are usually limited, and eventually a budget passes.

This time, apparently, it's worse than all that. This budget bickering has gone on so long that services that DO affect me are starting to shut down. I wasn't *too* worried when the PBS station to which I gave a substantial portion of a windfall I received earlier this year called last night to ask for more money; as mentioned above, public tv and radio are usually the first ones to cry out in pain. (Sometimes they cry so often it's hard to tell whether the pain is real.)

This morning, however, I discovered this: All Free Library of Philadelphia Branch, Regional and Central Libraries Closed Effective Close of Business October 2, 2009

At first glance, it might sound like the usual public television "they're going to take away Big Bird!" hyperbole. Our nanny thought it was a joke. It's not. Yes, the closure won't take place until October 2, and yes, it will only happen if the legislators in Harrisburg continue to fail to pass a state budget, but the effects will be felt sooner than that—and given how long the budget negotiations have already dragged on, the threat of Philadelphia's Free Public Library closing is absolutely real.

If you live in Pennsylvania, please contact your state senator and state representative and ask them to act with all possible speed to pass a state budget. Here's the letter I sent to my senator, Larry Farnese, and (with slight modifications) my representative, Babette Josephs.

PLEASE PLEASE do whatever you can to get a state budget passed ASAP. My four-and-a-half year-old son is an early reader and an avid consumer of Free Library books and services. His twice-weekly visits to the library have fostered his independence and confidence in addition to his reading skills. We want him out and about and interacting with the community, not just sitting in his room at home. We can afford to buy him books if the library closes, but honestly, we'd rather pay more taxes to keep the libraries open than use that same money to buy books for our child's exclusive use. Libraries do so much more for our community than an endless supply of books could do for a single child.

Please be a voice for our kid, our libraries, and our district. Please act in the spirit of cooperation and compromise, and encourage your fellow Senators and House colleagues to do the same.

Sincerely,
Lori Hylan-Cho

Posted by Lori at 1:50 PM | Permalink
January 17, 2010

The Moral of the Story

At breakfast the other morning, the Beaner held up a book with an orange cover (yes, we allow books and magazines at the table, though I sweep them away if I notice he's not eating) and announced, "Mom, it just occurred to me what Green Eggs and Ham is about."

"What's that, boo?"

"It's about no-thank-you helpings."

"That's exactly right, boo. It *is* about no-thank-you helpings."

I was impressed with his rudimentary literary analysis, but this conversation also got me thinking. A "no-thank-you helping" is something I was forced to eat as a child: one serving spoon's worth of whatever it was I'd just declined (politely or not). I'm assuming my mother learned the term from her mother or grandmother (though she might have coined it herself, and obviously the Beaner got it from both of us), but the Beaner is right that the concept has been around at least as long as Green Eggs and Ham—and probably longer.

Did you have to eat no-thank-you helpings as a kid? If so, did your mom or grandmom call them that, or something else?

Posted by Lori at 10:18 AM
Comments (3) | Permalink
January 12, 2015

Resolution Reading

I don't spend as much time as I used to browsing for myself at bookstores anymore—when we do go, I often look for something more substantial than Captain Underpants that the Beaner might like—but it is my habit to buy three or four books at a time when I do. Not sure why; I usually just find a bunch of things that look interesting and can't decide among them, so I get them all. The next thing that usually happens is I read one of them, and the rest stay in a pile on or under my nightstand, gathering dust, until I eventually put them on the bookshelf.

We went to the Penn Bookstore after dinner a few days before Christmas, and I again picked out four books that looked interesting. I knew that we were going away for our "just us" family vacation for a couple days after Christmas, and I knew that what I most wanted out of that vacation was to just sit quietly and read, so I resolved to take all four books with me and spend as much time reading them as possible.

I ended up reading the first book, Where'd You Go, Bernadette, in the 36 hours or so after I bought it. It was a wacky, charming, fun read in a modern format (it's mostly told via e-mail exchanges, notes, receipts, magazine articles, and other hand-written and digital detritus, with occasional commentary from Bernadette's teenage daughter). It had been in the normal adult fiction section, but it reminded me of Counting by 7s, which I picked up in the kids' section a few months ago while looking for books for the Beaner and ended up buying for myself after reading the first chapter. Might have been the young, brainy narrators that connected the two books in my mind. Both are entertaining and worth reading; Counting is the more heartwarming of the two books (mostly because it's almost ALL heartwarming), but I think I appreciated Bernadette's quirks more, as well as its detours into art and architecture. I'd have to think a bit about which had more to say about getting along (or not) with one's fellow human beings.

Books I bought on Saturday to read over the holiday break. Not shown: Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, which I finished on Sunday. Very entertaining. (This photo inspired by megan brooks )

Next up was The Bat, which I picked up because of its designation as "The First Inspector Harry Hole Novel." I can't remember exactly when I bought The Snowman—it's one of the books gathering dust under my nightstand at the moment—but I remember that I did because I recognized the author (he wrote Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder, which I bought for the Beaner one day in hopes of earning extra Awesome Mom stars, which I did), and because I love a good detective novel. Also because I'm a sucker for Scandinavians. Anyway! Seeing The Bat made me realize that I'd bought The Snowman somewhat randomly, without checking its order in the series. Better start at the beginning, I figured.

So, what to say about The Bat. Hm. Well, I didn't love it. On the plus side, I learned a bit about Australian and Aboriginal culture and history. On the minus side, it was so masculine that I couldn't really relate to the hero, and it wandered in a way that I didn't find particularly compelling. (Compare anything by Tana French, whose works wander all over the damn place and yet always make you feel like you are getting somewhere. I highly recommend listening to the audiobook versions of her novels, which is how I consumed them.) In the end I was glad to get through it and move on to the next book. I left it on a bookshelf in one of the awesome reading rooms in the place we stayed over the holidays and was delighted to find that it was gone the next day. Hope whoever picked it up enjoys it more than I did.

The very night I finished The Bat, I started on Reconstructing Amelia, which I'd bought because Entertainment Weekly was quoted on its cover comparing it to Gone Girl, which I really enjoyed when I read it a couple years ago. (I saw the movie with my sister over Thanksgiving and I realized I'd forgotten just enough to make re-reading the book interesting, so I plan to do that again soon.)

Now that I think of it, Reconstructing Amelia was an interesting amalgam of the first two books, considering that Bernadette was about reconstructing the events that led to a disappearance, and The Bat was about solving a murder. Reconstructing Amelia is about determining whether a suicide was really a suicide or something very different, and it also mines emails, texts, handwritten notes, and other records to solve the mystery. I read it much more avidly than The Bat, and finished it within a couple days. It was modern not just in form but in subject, giving a glimpse into 21st century mean-girl culture (in the parts about the daughter)... while at the same giving me a sort of Wall Street-ish throwback feeling (in the parts about the mother). It was played completely straight, which made for a few "yeah, right" moments and uncomfortable coincidences—it was easier to suspend belief in the nuttily hyperbolic Bernadette—but on the whole was worth buying and reading well into the wee hours.

Finally, there's A Tale for the Time Being, by Ruth Ozeki, which I... yeah, I loved it. I really loved My Year of Meats, which I picked up at the Denver airport back in 1999 and recommended to my friend Josie, who wrote to say you are so Jane Takagi-Little! after she read it. I think it was Emily Bazelon who recommended A Tale for the Time Being during the cocktail chatter segment of The Political Gabfest a few weeks ago, and I made a note of it because OMG! Ruth Ozeki wrote another book! Even though I didn't love Ozeki's second book, All Over Creation, the way I loved My Year of Meats (which is not to say I didn't enjoy it and wouldn't recommend it), I was alert for the mention of Ozeki's name and willing to read whatever she wrote next.

I almost don't want to describe this book at all and just say go read it. I will say that in writing this post, it occurs to me that Time Being has elements in common with both Bernadette and Amelia, and yet it is so completely different and novel. Imagine mixing in the mean-girl hazing of Amelia with the wacky neighbors of Bernadette, and even the cross-cultural exploration of The Bat—with the element of mystery common in all three—and you still don't have Time Being. You need a mix of youth and real, actual maturity (not just age); a large dose of Zen philosophy and practice; and a notion that time is flexible (or some appreciation of quantum mechanics), too. It's really a wonder of a novel, and one that obviously stuck with me. Maybe it will stick with you, too. (Go read it!)

Posted by Lori at 8:37 PM | Permalink
February 8, 2020

Recent Adventures in Audio

I know the sidebar is meant to capture recent books I’ve read, but I keep thinking that I need to make this blog more mobile-friendly and ditch the sidebar entirely—if I can even remember how to CSS anymore—so I’m going to post a few links here.

All of these are Audible links because that’s mainly how I consume books these days—listening while cleaning the house, doing laundry, running errands, baking, biking, and puzzling. I did recently read a paper book (if I can remember what it was by the end of this post, I’ll include it in the list), and it felt decadent to spend time just sitting and reading. I think sometimes I kid myself that binge-watching The Great British Bake Off or Downton Abbey isn’t decadent only because I’m also doing a puzzle or (ostensibly) chopping vegetables at the same time. In the case of the baking show, I'm doing a lot more standing in front of the iPad than I am chopping.

In reverse order of listening:

Uncanny Valley by Anna Wiener
I particularly enjoyed how she referred to companies and apps descriptively rather than by name (e.g., "the social network everyone hated"). I'm betting I can convince Austen to read this just for the satisfaction of being able to identify all of them.

The Ride of a Lifetime by Bob Iger
Simultaneously a chronicle of a career, a meditation on management, a justification of acquisition, and a love letter to Steve Jobs. I enjoyed all of it, but I wish Iger had read the whole thing himself instead of just the introduction.

Disappearing Earth by Julia Phillips
This is probably the most inventive novel I've read since Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad (which I started as a paper book and finished as an audiobook and preferred the latter, as the narrator was excellent), though it's completely different. I love that its focus and point of view is on and about women, and it made a remote part of Russia feel completely contemporary and relevant.

I won't bother to list all the political and current events books I've listened to in the past few months, though She Said was good, and I recommend The Fifth Risk by Michael Lewis.

As promised, one more link: Stir by Jessica Fechtor is, I think, the last paper book I read (over Thanksgiving). I thought maybe there was another since then, but if so, I can't bring it to mind.

Posted by Lori at 6:44 PM | Permalink
December 21, 2020

Barry Smooth

Of course I have a list of things I want to write about, but rather than waiting to write about them in order, I'm going to spew this one out right now: The audiobook version of Barack Obama's book The Promised Land is so good.

I was excited to read it until I heard a commentator—was it Jason Johnson?—on MSNBC say it was only ok, not really great, and totally skippable. After that I wasn't sure I wanted to invest 29+ hours and one of my two precious monthly credits (I'm at the point where I'm waiting for the 15th to roll around every month for the new credits to arrive) in this book. After 13 hours of listening over the past 36 hours or so, I am so glad I did. Actually, I was sold after the first 10 minutes. All I can think of is that Jason skimmed the print copy rather than listening to Obama read his own words.

Obama's voice is captivating. I could did listen to him all day. I can't say for sure that the wry humor, exasperation, or frustration wouldn't be obvious on the page, but it's definitely present in the audiobook, and it's delightful. It's also so interesting to see his political career, and his early days in the White House, from his perspective. (I'm up to about the summer of 2009 at this point.) It's not like any of the information in the book (so far) is completely new, but the point of view definitely is. While pundits might be skeptical of Obama's take on his own presidency, I find his perspective as valuable—and perhaps more so—than any other. So interesting.

I thought about throwing the timer on and letting him read me to sleep last night, but in the end I decided against it because I didn't want to miss anything. It's really that good.

Posted by Lori at 10:08 PM | Permalink