Blog Book Tour: Mama Lama Ding Dong
When Ayun Halliday emailed me to ask if I might be interested in reading and reviewing the U.K. release of The Big Rumpus, renamed Mama Lama Ding Dong, I—like the gigantic dork that I am—mailed back “Ayun? Ayun Halliday? *pinching self*”
Despite this auspicious beginning to our correspondence, I was booked for the blog tour. (And even if you aren’t interested in the book, go to the end for some bonus material from Ayun.)
My shiny copy of Mama Lama Ding Dong arrived and I plowed through it, aware both of my preexisting admiration for Ayun’s writing and also of some random past comment that had stuck with me; something about how Ayun’s work is fine if you’re “of the bohemian persuasion” or somesuch. (Credible source? No. Just pointing out that this comment was lodged in a distant nook of my brain.) Being not terribly Bohemian, myself, I was curious to see if that mattered. read more…
T-shirt for hire
Yesterday I took the kids to the grocery store to buy some food. Because I’m crazy like that. As we pushed our cart past the customer service desk, a woman reached out and put her hand on my arm. Her eyes were glued to my chest.
(As has been established in previous posts, there is hardly anything hypnotic about my chest. But I WAS wearing my boob-enhancing Fussy shirt.)
“Are you a writer?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” I answered. For a split second it occurred to me that this would be one of those monumental moments of my life—I’d responded without a second thought, as I should—and I found myself thinking “must tell Karen about this.” Becoming creeps up on all of us, it seems.
It turned out she’s looking for a local writer; she took my card and we chatted a bit and then I went on my way. And because I’m me, I did my food shopping consumed by two thoughts:
1) I could just be some freak wearing a t-shirt (no need to point out that I AM a freak, thanks). This woman was either very brave or a little nuts.
2) Maybe I need to cultivate an entire Fussy-a-Day wardrobe, just to make sure I never miss a gig. You never know who’s gonna want to hire me at my next mammogram.
The money gods giveth, and then they taketh away
I was going to send an actual check to FEMA with my letter, you know, to just be done with it all, but several people pointed out that maybe I should just send a letter asking for instructions, first. To avoid having them take my money and then later arrest me for not paying them. (You wouldn’t think such a thing could happen, would you? Sounds ridiculous? Have you read this? Scary times, folks.)
So I wrote my letter and sent it off and now I await my instructions. I also mailed off my vehicle excise tax, today, chuckling to myself about how it’s sort of an expensive month. In the meantime, I just knew that somehow, somewhere, a less-than- benevolent force would spot that extra money in my bank account. And I was right. read more…
There was much rejoicing. Also, napping.
I was puttering around in my pajamas this morning, feeling a little… well… punky, I guess, and being glad that I had another half an hour to drag myself into the shower before the sitter arrived…
… when the sitter arrived. Nothing will make you feel your (old and decrepit) age faster than opening the door, braless, for a gorgeous 16-year-old. Who is so taken aback by your dishevelled appearance that she begins apologizing immediately.
Good morning! read more…
Take my money, please
As much fun as it was when the basement flooded, everything that went along with it, and the recovery afterwards, I think it’s fair to say that I’m pretty much ready to be all done with that chapter of my life, now. Really. I’d like to move on. But the government just won’t let me.
Why? After convincing me that FEMA had experienced a dramatic turnaround— resulting, at the very least, in a record-speed disaster relief grant for me—all their hard work was undone, yesterday. read more…
Blog Book Tour: The Ghost in the House
When I signed up to be part of the Mother Talk book tour, I was excited. I love reading books. I love reviewing books. I couldn’t imagine this undertaking being anything other than a bookworm-y good time where I got to metaphorically lounge in a bathtub full of novels.
Sometimes, I’m not very bright.
This month’s tour is for The Ghost in the House: Motherhood, Raising Children, and Struggling with Depression by Tracy Thompson. I cannot think of another book that has been so difficult for me to read. I cannot think of another book that has been so important for me to read.
I cannot think of another book that is so vital for every mother who has ever struggled with depression to read. read more…
You are all pretty
You people are lovely. Thank you for petting my hair and being kind even though I am a big dork. To reward you for being so nice, I thought I’d share that yesterday I actually managed a BATH. Thereby rendering myself CLEAN for the first time time since… Thursday. Why am I admitting this, I have no idea. Perhaps to say, I AM GROSS! No, wait. To say, I AM FEELING LESS DEATH-LIKE. I also ate FOOD tonight for the first time since Thursday. Woo!
Complete recovery is right around the corner. Or perhaps after another nap or twelve.
I have many thrilling things to tell you (not really, but let’s pretend). But they will have to wait! I am feverishly (get it??) working on a book review for you for tomorrow, which I agreed to do before I knew that I would be coming down with the Bubonic Plague in Boston. Funny, huh? So I am going to finish working on that, and drink some more ginger ale, and save the other stuff for another time.
Come back tomorrow for the review! And to find out if I graduated to showering!
Lights, sirens, failure
One of the (many) things I love about Otto is his calmness in crisis and his penchant for understatement. Given my bent towards hysteria, he’s a useful balance to have around.
However, here I am feeling like a gigantic loser, and he tells you:
She started feeling under the weather Friday afternoon and, after some talks with the medical staff, decided to head home last evening.
Which, okay, is TECHNICALLY true. But he sort of left out a few key details, like how some of those “talks with medical staff” happened in an ambulance and at the Emergency Room. It’s not as though we were all sitting around chatting and then I was like, “Hey, you know what? Screw you guys; I’m going home.” read more…
Mir update
Otto here –
Wanted to give you a Mir update … she’s okay, but she’s at home now and won’t finish the walk.
She started feeling under the weather Friday afternoon and, after some talks with the medical staff, decided to head home last evening. She’s essentially been asleep for the last 24 hours, with a fever and headache, but seems to be doing a little better this evening.
Keep her in your thoughts as her spirits are pretty down right now. Even though she didn’t make it to the end, she still did a heck of a job – raising $6,000 towards cancer research is no small feat for a single working mother of two. And she has a lot of you guys to thank for your continued support. I know you are all as proud of her as I am.
-Otto out
I can keep going for $100 per mile
Thanks mostly to the kind generosity of my readers (that would be YOU, people), I have exceeded my goal of raising $5,000 for the Susan G. Komen Foundation.
In fact, I’ve raised a cool $6,000 to fund further breast cancer research.
I cannot express how moved I am at how folks responded to the call to dig deep. Several of you (including the one who felt the need to push me up to $6k, saying “it’ll be easier for you to keep going, if you know that every single mile is $100!”) donated more than once. I know that even this is a drop in the bucket compared to what’s needed to TRULY make breast cancer history, but I am humbled to be even a small part of it all.
And a small part is what I am. A small part with a lot of gear. Where did all of this gear come from?? read more…