Mom and Dad,
I could never have done this without your faith, support, and constant encouragement. Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself, in God, and in my dreams.
This book...aside from the nine F-words, thirteen Sh-words, four A-holes, page 257, and the entire Warren Beatty chapter...is dedicated to you.
You might want to avoid chapters twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, anything I quote Mom saying, and most of the end as well.
Sorry. Am I still as cute as a button?
Cute, right? It's from The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance. So far, hilarious.
I'm in the mountains for a few days, and have a pile of books to read. Literally, a pile. Think Cameron Diaz in The Holiday. Yes, I watched that movie. What of it?
My get-relaxed-quick readings include:
Margaret Atwood's The Edible Woman;
Michael Ignatieff's The Russian Album;
Rajaa Alsanea's Girls of Riyadh;
Lizzie Skurnick's Shelf Discovery;
Karen Blixen's Out of Africa;
Joseph Boyden's Through Black Spruce;
and Elizabeth Hay's Garbo Laughs.
Yes, lugging this many books through an airport does land you in a conversation with security folks who have novel suggestions. (Apparently I should read Cormac McCarthy.)