I hope the evening finds you well

Yella borrowed Bitter is the New Black, like she asked for, and today, we were discussing it. What was weird is that I know I had written a whole, big thing about the book because the author made me so fucking angry but repeated trips back through the page revealed nothing. Then, I thought to check the drafts only and bada bing. I found the entry, which is below. But before we get to that, I just continue to be amazed by the joy and laughter my friends bring to our house. It always amazes me. Spending a Sunday with them is the best thing ever.

Also, in a series of coincidences, Limmy happened to bring up the fact that he finally knew who sang the song in the Old Navy sweater commercial. I don't know why he mentioned it, since we weren't talking about it, but I was ecstatic, because I have been meaning to track that song down for days. Limmy told me it was by Ingrid Michaelson, who might be my new girlfriend. Then, when I burned it for Limmy and we played the song, Yella and Mike realized they wanted the song, too. It was so weird that a) we all liked the same song from the old navy commercial and b) that it managed to come up tonight at our carnival dinner. My contribution to the carnival dinner was popcorn balls. Yum! I intend to post some pictures from this weekend, including the final vegetable harvest (holy canteloupe) and my first foray into metal sculpture. Peace!

Here is the original post from 7/13/2006!

I’m all jacked up on strawberry soda and I can’t go to sleep. Which is bad, because just today, I turned over a new leaf and decided to be get-to-work-on-time girl and this new leaf only works if I get to bed early enough to wake up on time. Tomorrow, I may turn over another new leaf and become no-persistence-or-follow-through girl. Please, like I ever stopped being that person. I even made it to work on time, despite staying up well past my bedtime to finish Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I’m officially 15 years old again. I should have been reading it under the sheets of my bed, by flashlight. I even cried when Cedric Diggory died and Dumbledore gave his speech to the students at Hogwarts. *Most fascinating discovery, both Dumbledore and Hermione are recognized by the spell check. Even more fascinating is that a quick check of my custom.dic file does not reveal that I have added either word. Talk about a cultural phenomenon.

So, I finished Goblet of Fire and MFS had to bring me Order of the Phoenix and I don’t want to do any of my required reading for school, so I plucked a new book out of the bag of delights Villi and I picked up this weekend at Barnes and Noble. It is called “Bitter is the New Black” and although I am only five pages into it, I am disgusted with it. This woman is just, quite simply, a beast. She prefaces the book by including every letter she had been sent admonishing her outrageous and presumptuous behavior and writes so flatteringly about herself, I wonder if maybe I am missing some subtle and delicious satire and this is how a down to earth girl imagines a raging, materialistic psycho would behave. Alas, it is not fiction; it is a memoir and it is disgusting. Since this woman seems to think pushy behavior is not only appropriate, but also encouraged, I think I will write her and ask for my money back, rather than returning it to the store. She will understand that for the sake of the bottom line at Barnes and Noble that, regrettably, I cannot return the book knowing that it is not defective in manufacture, only in content. We’d see how funny she thinks honesty and cruelty are at that point. And as a side note, she rants on and on about being the only person she knows with any style, but the picture she chose for the cover clearly shows white flowers in her hair with a dark colored bridesmaid's dress. I will tell you right now, no one who is photographed in this outfit has anything even approaching natural style. I’m almost ashamed to carry a Coach purse after reading the first chapter of her book. If I had read her bio, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. She is sales; I am support. It is a fundamental difference between people, on par with cats vs. dogs. Sales people lack a certain tact and quiet dignity that I find necessary. This author (ha!) reaffirms that belief.

Well, I’m starting to feel tired. The ranting and furious typing have sapped my energy so I will post this and snuggle into my new and clean sheets and try to go to sleep.