Die For You

Book flaps lie. While I am not quite sure who decides what will be revealed on the flap of a book, I would imagine that it's someone in marketing whose missive is to sell, sell, sell!
So, Lisa Unger's Die For You is described as:

When successful novelist Isabel Raines learns that everyone that her husband
worked with is dead--and that her missing husband has been legally dead for some time--she will not rest until she finds the truth about him. Who he was, where
he's gone, and how he was able to deceive her so completely.

After reading lots of YA, picture books and Alexander Mccall Smith's No 1 Ladies Detective series I was ready for something a bit meatier. I was suckered into Unger's Die For You. Unger's main character, Isabel Connolly Raines is a writer, NOT a cop, detective or any of the like. Yet she treks all over the world to discover the truth about her husband. Ignores the authorities, puts her family in danger and goes up against a bunch of thugs.
Blech!
I should (or could) do a better review but this book was so unbelievable that I won't even bother.
What a stinker!
-r

Soundtrack for mourning: The King is dead, the Queen* is through

Michael Jackson died last week.

Typing that sentence felt weird. While I will not proclaim to be the avid MJ fan, Michael Jackson was a part of my growing up. The Jackson 5 cartoon Saturday mornings; Buffy, Leaky and I making up dances to his songs. That concert in the rain; the Pepsi commercial when his hair caught fire. Watching him moonwalk on Motown 25. The ish used to come to a stop when MJ premiered a new video. It wasn't just a video; it was an event!

Sigh!

Here is a soundtrack of MJ jams that I jam to.

Wanna Be Startin Something? Buffy and I used to do our "having a fit dances" to this one and of course you've gotta scream at the "Woo!"

Butterflies: When I first started wearing my hair natural my stylist Christine hipped me to this song. While twisting we would listen to this thing on repeat. After I hated it (non-stop listening) I heard it again and thought it was pretty sweet.

PYT: The Bee sings the chorus as such, "I want to love you! itta dotta dih!" Sing it out loud. You'll see what I mean

Beat It (Which cannot be talked about without Eat It): When MJ was at his prime. Although would you really be afraid of the, um gangs?

Bad: Wesley Snipes was in this video! Before he became such a douche. And again, are you scared of these gangs? Especially dude on the skates. Just saying.

Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough: Another crank it up and jam. One of my favorite wog tunes.

I Just Can't Stop Lovin' You: I originally wanted this for a song when I was to be married. I still like it.

Got To Be There: I like young MJ. His voice was so clear and innocent.

I Want You Back: Young MJ again.

Thriller: Do I even need to talk about this? The zombie chick in white kicks it!

Black or White: I like this song and the video (except for the feeling himself up part which goes to all of the videos when MJ bops. Double yuck!) When I am shelving, shelf reading or some other tedious task and this comes on I do a little head roll a la Michael

We Are the World: I remember Live Aid. My parents video recorded it and we watched it for weeks.

Scream: The Bee listens to this song during our ride to school.

Dancing Machine: How slick; all the Jacksons looked moving as one...in silver jumpsuits

She's Out of My Life: As tender and beautiful as this song is I always associate this song with Eddie Murphy and his comedy act: "Tito, get me a tissue; Jermaine, Stop teasing"

My mom sobbed like a baby (Hence the title. My sister calls my mom Queenie and MJ was, nay is the King of Pop). I blogged and crocheted a small Grim Reaper. I know I am a heartless skank. Anyhoodle, say what you will about MJ, freak, weirdo, eccentric, genius. This man was phenomenal and there will be no other.

Moonwalking,
-r

Soundtrack for a wog after not feeling well

Does a workout count if during every step of it you are thinking, "Dear God! Please let this be over soon?" That was my thoughts as I struggled through my morning workout. It wasn't hard to get out of bed; I found myself waking every hour on the hour beginning at 3ish and at 6ish decided that my lack of sleep was a sign from above and my need to train and I dragged myself out of bed. Let me back up. One of my co-workers gave me a cold. She swears and claims its allergies but I swear listening to her sniff and sneeze all day Friday and today I truly believe it was more of a coughing, aching, stuffy head, sorta feverish symptoms so I can't rest that I caused a lost weekend. (Aside: Why don't people stay their sick asses home? Really! Infect the whole office why don't you instead of taking care of yourself and letting the rest of the office stay healthy. But hey, what do I know?)

Anywhosit, after taking the weekend off from the track (well, Sunday I bagged on my wog partner by oversleeping; sorry Bookwoman!), I made myself go today. When I plugged in my iPod for my workout, these songs played.

No kidding and NO interference from me.

Sinead O'Connor: The Last Day of Our Acquaintance
-Because every step felt as if it would be the last
Colin Hays: Overkill
-The thoughts I was having was a bit too DQ* even for me
Tina Turner: What's Love Got To DO with it?
-This workout was not done for fun or like. It just needed to be done...
Elliott Yamin: Movin' On
-No bunnies at the track today. I had to find my own inspiration. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.
Mystakil: Shake Ya A**
-When I felt like I could no longer take another step, I caught sight of my silhouette. (shiver)
Skinnysongs: Incredible Shrinking Woman
-don't ask
4 Non Blondes: What's Going On
-Yay! I'm done!

Tomorrow will be better. I've boned up on my Vitamin C, water and rest. My favorite shorts are clean and I found my ear buds (was using The Bee's and boy did I hear about it!).

Ready to wog,
-r

*DQ: Drama Queen

Let the Sunshine In!

The last few days have been like a scene straight out of Forrest Gump: Rain came from the side, from the ground, it rains at night, during the day, and so forth and so on. I am trying to remain positive. The rain is lovely and needed for the garden, my plants will look great once the sun shines; but I can't run.

Let me change that: I don't WANT to run in the rain.

It's cold, wet, dreary, dull and I just can't and don't want to be bothered.

Yet.

I say yet because come November 22nd I am not sure WHAT the weather will bring. My wog partner and I have agreed that we should get used to the weather. My heart says Un hun but the wuss part of me says na uhn!

Waiting to dry out,
-r

Tomorrow (June 15th) is...

...Smile Power Day!

Since my library's Summer Reading Program officially starts today (sweating and blinking profusely) and I have to appear in court (now I am shaking) I am going to have to go to my happy place and fake it til I make it.

Woosahing,
-r

A Saturday *NOT* Wasted

So.

My original plans for Saturday were revamped without my permission. I don't want to go into details but I will say that I was not a happy camper and feeling all kinds of sorry for myself. Before I would have thrown a pity party with special guests Peanut and Chocolate M&Ms, a pint (or two) of Vanilla Haagan Daaz, a can of whipped cream and some hot fudge followed by a pepperoni pizza chaser. These days I am more conscious of what actions I take and how I should think BEFORE I act. Instead of being bummed out and spending the day moping, I went exploring.

Clark Park on 43rd and Baltimore was having a flea market. It seems that there is a Farmer's Market there every week but the Uhuru Flea is an event for the benefit of black community-led programs for justice, sustainability and liberation. As I wandered through the vendors I marveled at University City. When my uncle lived in the area, it was a crime ridden and full of folk. He lived in a haunted house that was always under construction. Now the area is thriving with yuppies, hippies, bohemian types and all in between. As I walked I chuckled. Despite being in the progressive UC there were representation from all: the families with toddlers; some of the kids were well behaved but there were a few that made me glad that The Bee is a tween (!). There was the crunchy granola types, all natural herbs and vegan wares. There was the white guy with dreadlocs strumming a guitar. The Black woman yelling at a knitter for using wool in her hats. (I was unwittingly a part of the drama when I was called on to give my opinion about types of yarn that should be used for Black Women.) And of course, dogs.

Why, oh why do folk insist on bringing their dogs to these open air market type places? Really! I counted a total of seven dogs. One enthusiastically barking at anything near him, two drinking from a water bottle (WTH?) and others in various states of activity.
Some dogs are cute but for the most part, blech! Can't stand 'em! They always want to jump on you, lick you, pant near you or some other disgusting dog behavior.

Anyhoodledoodle, despite the presence of canines (rolling my eyes) I am excited for the next one. There is a park for me to get my wog on, lots and lots of crap, quality crap and Good Fabulous Junk (thanks Bookwoman!) for me to pick though.

Getting my stroll on,
-r

Confessions of a Facebook addict.

It's 9:52. AM, PM; it doesn't really matter. Either way I am guiltily glancing over my shoulder as I type, softly hunting and pecking, hoping that I can find the correct keys to express these words: Rachée is confessing.

I press share and quickly alt + tab to the task at hand. My Internet hobby is nothing really tawdry or salacious though I wish it were. It's not tantalizing nor is it fodder for gossip. Alas, it is me feeding my ever growing Facebook Addiction.

I've gotten better. I have been consciously limiting my time to a quick check in the AM, one mid day and another evenings but in the beginning, and admittedly even now, I was, and am a fiend.

A family member turned me on to the stuff (as they always do). Buffy called me one day and cried, "Guess who asked me to be a friend on Facebook? K_______ C_______!" At the time I was blissfully ignorant; FB was not a part of my daily life and my paranoid nature kept me away. Who wanted to get to know me? Was that really so and so or somebody pretending to be her? Is that guy the real deal or some weirdo? After I got more comfortable I was in.


I have connected with a few friends that I met at a conference, high school and a few college friends that I have not seen in ages, people from work (coworkers and the like) as well as a few random folk that I have collected along the way. At first it was like a test... do I even know anyone, besides my sis, on FB? When I joined the friend requests came a a good clip and like a kid I was excited. Yes I would accept my cousin's friend request. Pop? Sho' nuff. The lady from work that I chatted with? But of course. Then they dribbled and drabbled but t he excitement of the people I knew and who knew or wanted to get to KNOW ME (!?!) was exciting! "You are such a friend slut!" My sister would say as I announced my newest friend. I didn't care. There were people to meet, chat and befriend (I have a friend from Australia with the same last name!)

As with everything in life, there are few connections that I regret; some people that I really don't want in my business (only because it truly illustrates how sad and sorry my life is, can be) but the good outweighs the bad and there I am, commenting on the colors of someone's new living room (an enthusiastic "Great!"), an announcement of a new job ("Way to go!), someone's outrage at their job ("People suck!").


Yet, it wasn't as bad as some people's horror stories. A few people (OK, one article!) confessed that FB has ruined their lives, that they spend more time online than face to face with actual friends and family. Not I scoffs arrogant Rachée yet I grab my comp and log on, getting lost in hours of status updates, Scramble games, Hippy Names (mine is Earth Karma) and other causes and nonsense that both makes me shake my head in wonder and embarrassment when I slide my eyes to the bottom of the screen and see that not just the fifteen minutes that I have allotted myself have passed, but an actual hour or so has gone!


These days I limit myself, and at times it feels as if I am missing something. The world needs to know my escapades! (Rachée is being a sucky mom! I'm on FB and my kid is asking to read!) But best believe that as soon as I can, I log on and update the FB worked with my latest doings (Rachée has wogged and wogged good!; Rachée is spending time with The Bee, er not!, Rachée is reading the most addictive book!)


After weeks of chaining myself to my inbox (Blah Blah Blah commented on your post or my favorite So and So sent you a message) I realize that like everything else, moderation is the key. As I tear myself away (yes, the drama!) I realize that it's OK not to FB like its a job. I get more done, The Bee appreciates it and really, it is better to hang in person than to try and come up with a cool status (Rachée is updating her blog! Read it, comment!). So, as I sign off (Rachée has left the building!) I bid thee farewell. Until we meet online.

Rachée is NOT on Facebook,
-r

P.S. When one of my mom's friends got online, I knew the end was near. Do I really want to be friends with Miss _________? Yes. cause now I am up to 232 friends.
Yay me!