Finished Book #2 of 2006

I recommend this book.
Oh my goodness, honest. Go borrow it from the library. Or check out the used book store in your neighbourhood. Or buy a new copy and show some support. It's a true story that'll grab your guts til they gush. I don't know what that means. But I'm into alliteration these days. Assume that what I just wrote was an endorsement.

Do you know who Dooce is? She's only the most famous blogger in the whole entire world. The January issue of Glamour magazine has a multi-paged article on her and she's been the speaker at, erhhm, yes, mock me if you will, blogging conferences. (www.dooce.com) I check her site out daily without fail. I love her monthly letters to her daughter.



A n y w a y ... as I'm reading Martha's book, I keep thinking it's Dooce who is the author. Their punchy, sassy, intelligent writing styles and their mucked up backgrounds (ex-Mormons from Utah) and the names of their husbands (John) are eerily similar. I long to be able to string together words they way those chicks do.

In case you're interested, here's what it says on the back cover:
"John and Martha Beck had two Harvard degrees apiece when they conceieved their second child. Further graduate studies (they were both working on their doctrates), budding careers and a growing family meant major stress - not that they'd admit it to anyone. It was hard enough to admit it to themselves. As the pregnancy progressed, Martha battled extreme constant nausea and dehydration. And when she learned that her unborn son had Down syndrome, she battled nearly everyone over her decision to continue her pregnancy. She still cannot explain many of the things that happened to her while she was expecting Adam, but by the time he was born, Martha "had to unlearn virtually everything Harvard taught about what is precious and what is grabage."

When I went to Google to search for an image of the book to post here, I found out that Martha's writing career took off like stink after she wrote this memoir in 2000. I double checked to make sure it was true - and sure 'nuff...there she is - a monthly columnist in my favorite magazine. Not that one, the other one - Oprah.

Did you notice what I did? I snuck a double recommendation in. A two-fer so to speak.
Dooce and Beck. Check em out.

Just realized they both have single syllable names.
I'm thinking my 4 syllable last name with all those freakin vowels might be a hindrance in my quest for literary fame. Maybe I'll get my writing buddy Jenn to make up a name for me. She did it for herself. After she got divorced, she didn't want to keep his name, so she made up a very romantic yet wonderfully professional surname.

See that's the trick. Surround yourself with creative people. When they sneeze you might get showered with their germs.

I think I digressed.



Happens.

Deal.



(That "deal" is new slang, mon.
It's short for, "Suck it up buddy and deal with it." It is not a poker term. I do not have a gambling addiction. I only play for fun. Real money does not enter the equation. I just really liked the shiny aluminum case and those brightly coloured ceramic chips.)

Moving on...

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Checked 4 things off my To Do list today. Unfortunately, none of them had anything to do with those sigh Christmas decorations.
2. My truck repair bill was only $863. Not $1200 like last time. Of course, I only took it in for an oil and lube...so I was expecting to pay $29. Guess we won't be traveling anywhere warm during Spring Break.
3. Have I mentioned we're going to Harrison Hot Springs this weekend?


Shalom,