The Brattychick

Whenever I feel sad,  I remind myself that I live on a lake right now. At this moment in my life, I have this simple luxury of living on a body of water that the majority of people (even very rich people!) do not. I likely won't have it forever. I can see a huge expanse of lake from my kitchen window! Right now I am sitting on my lake facing patio, reading a book about a like minded girl, drinking a cup of coffee, holding my sleeping happy newborn baby,  with my doggy at my feet. Life is perfect in this moment.

On February 21, 2011, I was in a terrible spot. I had been separated a little over half a year. I was impoverished with no end in sight. I was working two jobs and exhausted. It didn't matter how much I worked, I would not be able to make my rent. It was just a matter of how slowly I wanted to drown. My children had the day off of school and I wanted to do something with them. I told them we were taking a "poor man's trip to Baltimore." We drove to the Inner Harbor. I couldn't afford to buy tickets to anything so we visited the gift shops to Hard Rock Cafe, Port Discovery Children's Museum, and the Baltimore Aquarium. I told them someday we would have more money and be able to go in. Then I bought them hot chocolates and we came home. Today we went to Baltimore again. I have enough money for parking, gas, lunch, Ripley's Believe It Or Not, an overpriced sushi dinner at a restaurant on the water, and cookies for dessert. It was a great day. It was a poign...

I'm depressed again. Maybe it's the weather. I'm finding myself dragging through days. I'm having to pep talk myself out of a nap and hurl internal abuse at myself for the stupid procrastination that keeps happening. My oldest son just turned 16. If he leaves for college when he is 18, I have less than 2 years to finish training him to be a functional adult and a thoughtful roommate. I want my children to feel empowered and capable. I spent the weekend refining their adult skills: cooking, baking, buying textbooks online, organizing a closet, using bleach. I wanted to provide a nice life for them. I'm still in college and by the time I am able to provide a better life for them, they will be gone. That makes me so sad. I feel like I'm 19 again. I'm living just the way I did then, except this time there are 3 children in my tiny apartment, stretching my tiny budget. I wanted them to have better. I wanted to do better for them. And what of the rest of my li...

In response to "Mommy, what is my chore today?" "I write these things down so I don't have to answer your questions."

I love the water. I used to think it was just the ocean, but since moving very near to the Potomac, I have realized I am not just a saltwater fish.  I commute using the George Washington Memorial Parkway which follows the river and is actually a National Park. I am so in love with the river that I have nearly run off the road on several occasions because the river is distracting me. Reagan National Airport is along the Parkway and there are train tracks that run along side it and cross it at one point. I consider it a perfect trifecta if during one trip I see a plane, a train and a boat. It makes me so incredibly satiated when this happens. All of those people, going somewhere else. So many ways to go. So many places. This was taken today at  Gravelly Point . Parts of the river are frozen with fresh snow on top. Aside from a couple of taxis waiting for calls from the airport, and many seagulls, I was alone. I know it's freezing, and the wind along the river ta...

This whimsical coming-of-age novel was so beautiful. The story is told through photographs, youtube videos, snippets of text messages, newspaper clippings and other odds and ends. The harder you look, the more you glean from its pages. It could stand alone as a coffee table book. You could almost flip through the pretty pages absentmindedly and not take in the story, almost. There is a story there though. Frank and Glory fall in love. From his drawings and almost brutish persistence, I have trouble knowing if he is in love or just lonely and in seventeen-year-old-boy lust. At times Glory is vacant and distant. Their love seems to ebb and flow, like love does. I enjoyed listening to the various songs on the mix cds that the lovers made for each other while I was enjoying the novel. That really added an extra layer to multimedia experience that this book was trying to produce. It really gave you a very tactile experience. There were some links that did not work, which was disapp...

Although I went into reading this book knowing that it was a graphic novel about the Holocaust, I really could not fathom how that was going to play out. I wondered if the seriousness of the event would be dampened or if it would be some sort of dark comedy. The book is definitely not a comedy and never makes light of its tragic subject. Maus was generally a critical success and won many awards including the 1992 Pulitzer Prize. I have to admit that this was my first graphic novel. Being a virgin, I did find that I primarily focused on the words rather than the pictures. I had to train myself to take the drawings into account. I eventually was able to read it effortlessly the way I believe it was intended. Maus’ author, Art Spiegelman, has received a some criticism over the way is father is portrayed. There has also been much discussion over the use of animals to portray humans and more specifically which animals are used to depict particular races. I did not find this to be a s...

I was at a bar with Michelle. David came in and said hi, that he was surprised to see me and that he was waiting for my dad and brother. Then he went and stood nearby,  but not with us. Then Thomas came in. He was loud and very happy to see David. I felt angry that they hadn't told me they were in town. Thomas said something to David like "it's good to see you,  man. I really wanted to catch up with you while I was in town." I turned around and said,  "Hi Thomas." And he looked surprised and confused,  wondering if I'd been invited or if I just happened to be there. And I said something like,  "Imagine! Running into your sister, at a bar in the city that she lives when you were just trying to catch up with the rest of your family!" Thomas rolled his eyes and looked pissed off. I introduced them to Michelle briefly and they hugged her awkwardly. Thomas and David went to another part of the bar because they didn't want to hang out with me...

This self-proclaimed documentary novel was comprised solely of conversation snippets,  letters,  telegrams, memos and journal entries. Cleverly, Nothing but the Truth was just cold hard facts with a very objective eye.  Although the story was an upsetting one,  I really liked this method of story telling. There are no judgements made. The facts are laid upon the table and you may do with them what you will.  This leaves room for a vast array of feelings for the reader and treats each character with fairness and shows them in a fairly unbiased light. I could sympathize with each character and I enjoyed being the only one holding all the information. Each character had flaws,  just like everyone does,  but it did not seem like any one character was villianized. They were all just very understandable. The theme of the novel could be "the truth is in the eye of the beholder," but I think more is being said about knee-jerk reactions, and jumping to ...

This book was a lighthearted breath of fresh air.  It was very playfully written, with characters named Thursday Next, Jack Shit and Acheron Hades. The narrative uses Jane Eyre as a backdrop for part of the story, adding a new meaning to "getting lost in a book". The story was so creative with its alternate universe that I was amazed that the author was able to keep so many complicated ideas in his head. Some of the action sequences seemed complicated and hard to follow to me. There is a very good reason car chases and fist fights work better on film. I do not think I felt the sense of excitement during those moments in the book that I believe the author was trying to convey. It was clear that he had a well thought out idea, and the writing was concise, but it was still not easy to follow.  In spite of this, I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It was a sci-fi, fantasy,  action novel that I have never seen the likes of before.

Top ten things I'm thankful for: 1. My children and I are healthy. No matter what I complain about,  I have decidedly first world problems. 2. I have two jobs that I like. They allow me to eat cheaply and provide for my family. They have both been flexible with me and allowed me to have time with my children and go to school. 3. I work with people that I love, who have hugged me when I cried, encouraged me, left their phones on late at night in case I needed them, called me when I was at my lowest lows, and soothed me. I love you people. 3. My children are my greatest treasure. They are awesome and smart and super funny. 4. I'm grateful for therapy. I think it has probably saved my life in a couple ways. Devoting time to my life and well being this way is time well spent. 5. Amazing technology has made my life so much easier. I can deposit checks, get directions,  grocery shop, listen to audio books, sell crap on eBay,  and do homework on my phone. Remember P...

This collection of short stories not only stand alone,  but bind together in a long intertwining nonlinear narrative. Initially, I hated this book. The first story about weights and measures of weapons that I didn't understand, and the cast of young male characters that I could not tell apart aggravated me. The story grew on me and I ended up really liking it. I never would have read it if I had not been made to because of school, and I am glad I did. What I enjoyed about this book was the reflection. We all have something,  some trauma that feels like it nearly did us in. The major tragedy in our life haunts us in the dark night and makes quiet moments inside our head difficult. We hope that we do not have to live through anything worse than that thing. For the first part of my life, mine was the carbon monoxide suicide and accidental death of my grandmother and grandfather respectively. More recently, it was my ugly divorce and the subsequent loss of my family of origin a...

This book was thoroughly enjoyable. I thought it was very well written. It effortlessly flowed between time periods and characters’ points of view. Briony was believable as a smart and sassy little girl and as an adult, her voice still rang true. Cecilia, Robbie and Mrs. Tallis are all vividly portrayed. There were moments of hilarity early on in the book and it could have easily ventured into a period piece with quiet thoughtful conversations and brooding almost-friendship-turned-love in the style of Pride and Prejudice. Instead, there was a rape of a child. This singular moment changes everyone’s lives. That is really what the novel is about. How a singular moment, one decision can change something drastically forever. Thirteen is a prudish age for many little girls, and Briony misunderstands. She means no malice but damns everyone around her, including herself. Fiona, the pathetic victim marries the criminal. Cecilia cuts her family off. Robbie goes to jail and then war instead...

To say that I enjoyed Chronicle of a Death Foretold would be inaccurate, but I definitely appreciated it. I liked its brevity and the fact that it stuck to the point while still providing bits of color and background. It was never a chore to read. The geographical setting is a beautiful coastal Caribbean town that one might like to visit. The setting never really gets muddied in spite of the dark deeds going on. There were places open at odd hours. I liked the idea of a convenience store by day, bar by night. The brothel sounded like a beautiful, happy place with a courtyard and gourd lanterns. The characters were well drawn and fanciful.  I loved the imagery of the “eyes of an insomniac leopard”, referring to a favorite prostitute that never slept. The entire book has an ethereal quality to the setting and the characters. Even the superstitions of the culture are brought forth with such authority, that you find yourself absolutely agreeing to a romantic idea. Of course a...

I'm counting sheep Waiting for The Sleep To swallow me whole Murder this day Let the night smother it Keep it down,  keep it quiet And for fuck's sake, Don't. Think. Rescue me.

This novel was a less a novel and more series of whimsical vignettes. There were a few chapters describing the life of a young Einstein and his colleague. Other than that there was not a real plot or story arc.  Most chapters contained a creative idea about how time might be structured and how the human experience would react. I felt that the book went on a bit too long for what it was. However, I found the description of Albert Einstein, the young man, and his dear friend Besso to be endearing.  I enjoyed the Dr. Seussesque moving buildings and houses on stilts. I appreciated the touching wish to be frozen in time in your most perfect moment and the thoughts on the shifting perception of the past. What I found profound were the statements each vignette made. How would one act differently if there were infinite time? If life lasted a mere day, how would you spend it? The thoughts on love when there is no past were soul-stirring. Lovers’ attraction never waned. The...

The Hours seemed to revolve around the theme “Nothing matters, everyone dies.” This would seem, at first glance, very depressing. In truth, I did find The Hours fairly depressing, but that did not preclude me from liking it. One of the reasons that it was enjoyable was the very real characters, each one complete with a background, strengths and imperfections. Michael Cunningham has a knack for very whole characters. Even Mary Krull and Walter Hardy, who appeared only briefly, had personalities that were fleshed out with broad strokes. Their physical descriptions were articulated and an idea of their histories and futures were alluded to. Actually, the The Hours gives the feeling that it might be a chapter in a larger book. It does not try to give a complete history, and almost assumes that the reader has some prior knowledge about things. It also does not tie everything up in a neat bow or answer all the reader’s questions. Because the novel occupying the space of only one day in ea...

I wanted to love this book. I admire Salman Rushdie. I liked the colorful wording and random references sprinkled throughout the book like Easter eggs. It reminded me very much of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland which is one of my favorite books of all time. However, somewhere in the ornateness of the story, Rushdie lost my attention. About halfway through, I felt like I always do while standing in the National Cathedral. Amidst the carefully crafted gargoyles, stained glass, intricate ceilings and decorated door handles, I feel bewildered and overstimulated. I cannot take it all in. I cannot make the kind of sense of it that I would like to. In trying to comprehend the theme of the story, I feel overwhelmed. I settled on “stories are invaluable”, though I toyed with “speech is worth fighting for” and “family first”. The sole reason I settled on this was that both Haroun and Soraya question the usefulness of a fictional story. I liked Rushdie’s “real” world better than the dream wo...

We had apple, scones, and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches for lunch. We did spx and it was lovely outside. I spent too much money but that is ok. We met We came back. I took the Clara Barton parkway and it was beautiful. When I got home the children were so engrossed in their books that they didn't get out of the car for a while. I took a little nap. Then we had beef stew and biscuits for dinner. I I drank a half a bottle of white wine that abby gave me. Miles and I worked on cleaning the house. We determined that we needed a filing cabinet. Then, I sent the boys to bed and I read Haroun until I fell asleep. It didn't take long.

I finished it. It's published. "When I was ten years old, my grandmother committed suicide via a closed garage and a Buick. The garage was attached to the house. Though the doors were closed, my grandfather, sleeping upstairs, was reached by the toxic fumes. They both slipped away quietly in the night..." You can read it on yahoo! here .