In preparation for Spencer’s 12 day trip to Canada last week, I was in the market for a new book. I’ve been making my way through a hard-lived copy of Gone With The Wind passed down from my grandmother to my mom to me, a little bit everyday for the past six months. It’s taken me a long time to make it where I am in the story because I only read it in five to twenty minute increments between the time I climb into bed every night and the time Spencer starts bitching for me to turn out the G-damn light already. (I really should remember to pick up a book light. Or a Kindle. Or a new husband.) (Psyche.) (Like I can afford a Kindle..) Also, that shit is like four Bibles put together and sometimes I fall asleep thirteen letters in. I was looking forward to getting a lot of reading in this week, but I wanted something new - preferably something I could finish before he got back. Something that wasn’t Fifty Shades of Mind Cheating with Fictional Characters.
After finding this well-timed excerpt posted by Melody Godfred on Write In Color, I picked up Tina Fey’s Bossypants during my trip to Target the following day. It was incredible. It would have been exactly what I was looking for, if it hadn’t been so hard to put down that I finished it the day before he left. Dangit.
I loved the whole thing so much that I had to repost the original excerpt that inspired me to get the book. Read it. Love it. Pretend you don’t relate to the part about dry-humping in cars. Then go buy the book so that you can startle people when you spit cereal out laughing. On second thought, don’t read it in front of people. Unless, like me, you look totally adorable suppressing a creepy smirk and then snorting by surprise and then laughing unattractively in front of neighbors with milk dripping down your chin. (Don’t feel bad, we can’t all pull it off.) Here’s a small taste of what you can expect to fall in love with inside of this book: (Besides Tina Fey.) (Not that I've ever Mind-Cheated with her or anything.)
*Pay attention, Little B Word-ettes. This is for you.
A Mother’s Prayer For It’s Daughter.
By Tina Fey
"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered,
may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,
For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day –
And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever,
that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers.
And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,
Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,
For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,
that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
So, now that I’m out of new reading material again, what’s another good one to pick up? Have you gotten into any good, light-reads recently? A friend told me once about a quirky, little book that’s actually written from the perspective of the family dog. I remember scrunching my face (in that very attractive way that I do) when she told me that. But apparently, it made quite a buzz around the place that she worked and came highly recommended. I can’t remember what it was called though… and ever since Marley and Me, there’ve been a lot of books about dogs.
I’ve got, like, seven more days ‘til The Light Nazi comes home. Help me out! What should I read?