We saw Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle last night.
It freaking ruled.
I don’t care that it had a thin plot. I don’t care that it defied the laws of physics every five minutes. I loved that movie. It freaking ruled.
Nosy Personal Question #10
Jennifer C. wants to know:
Can you give us an update on your book, i.e. what stage are you at in the process, when is it going to be published, a general idea of the theme, etc.
I’m in line behind other books, waiting for the editor to start editing in September. This means my book might not be ready until the following September, I guess.
The book is a collection of short stories and creative non-fiction called To the Last Man I Slept with and All the Jerks Just Like Him. The publisher picked the title — it’s also the name of one of the pieces. If I had to identify one story arc for the book’s episodes, I’d say it’s: “This is how you groom a little girl to grow up and make the wrong choices, and then this is how that little girl becomes an international superstar licking Cristal from hot sailors’ navels.”
Next September’s far away, isn’t it? At first I was all sad about that, but now I’m biting the bullet by the horns and working on another project. I’m doing a chapbook, which will probably go on sale at this reading I’m reading at on July 25, the concept of which I designed myself. The name of the reading — no, literary event — is “The Quinceanera You Were Too Poor to Have”. (A quinceanera is kind of like a bat mitzvah for 15-year-old Latinas.) Y’all are cordially invited to attend. It’s gonna be cool. You can wear a costume and everything. If you’d like more details, let me know and I’ll send you the press release.
Guest Blog Entry #9
Aimee O. writes:
Everything I run up against lately is all about marriage. I’m invited to two weddings this year (which is odd, as most of my friends, given enough beer and time, will wax profound on marriage and its evils), one of my friends is angling (there is no other word, and I’m sorry) for a proposal probably as I bang out these lines, and even L.M. Boyd had a very DISCONCERTING snippet in the trivia column last week–something about a university study saying basically that the younger a person weds, the better-looking that person is. Well, shit. I am thirty-two and have never been married. Does this mean that not only have I failed to grab that all-American brass ring of marriage and security, but also that I am hideously ugly? I never thought L.M. Boyd–the person who gives me Chinese proverbs to paste on my office door–would erode my self-esteem so. I never thought marriage mattered so much to me.
It never did before. I cohabited with my daughter’s father for seven tumultuous years, and cracked wise about my single status later with anyone who’d listen: “I’m not the bitter divorcee, ’cause I never got married!” I didn’t used to screw up my face in disdain when friends or acquaintances would flash their engagement rings. Nor did I used to resent forking over $35 for wedding presents, or resenting the wedding presents themselves. Frankly, I don’t want a husband–well, on certain days of the month I do, and when I have to take out the garbage, deal with telephone solicitors, or investigate noises in the middle of the night, I sometimes wistfully imagine a burly Mr. Aimee: “Don’t you worry! Go back to sleep! I’ll take care of it! By the way, you are so NOT hideously ugly!”
