What I'm Reading

Stardust by Joseph Kanon
Coming out in the fall, the next novel by the author of The Good German. It's so good I kinda want to lick the pages.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

That Makes Me Happy

In high school, my friend Liam used to always say, whenever he liked something, "that makes me happy." Very simple. Just a declaration of happiness. And I always loved that best about him, because I feel like people just don't do that, don't just decide, in the moment, to be happy. Somewhere in a box I still have a greeting card from my friend Amy, wishing me "a lifetime of Liam-like happiness." So, like all good ideas, I stole it. And I've spent my life trying to take those moments to just be glad, and to regularly declare, "that makes me happy."

For the past couple of weeks, I've been in a funk. Remember that Flintstones episode, where there's the guy with the rain storm that just follows him around all the time? Yeah, I've been that girl lately. I've felt bad about my job, my body, my life…But no more. I've had enough of that crap. I watched The Secret this weekend, and just made a decision to be happy. And once you set your mind to being in a good mood, you are. Funny how that works…

Actual exchange with my sister Mich yesterday:
Me: Yay!
Mich: Yay what?
Me: Nothing. I've just committed myself to being happy and grateful.
Her: You are a horse of a different color… and I mean that in only the nicest way.
Me: What color? Can I be pink? If I'm going to be another color, I'd want to be pick
Her: Sure. It would definitely be something cheerful and bright.

For those of you who haven't read The Secret, the premise is that the universe is governed by the Law of Attraction. If you send positive thoughts and feelings into the universe, that's what will come back to you. As much as I hate New Age anything, this one really makes sense. Plus, it appeals to my innate Pollyanna-ness. Has anyone else heard about this?

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Girl Armor

Bookgirl note: Yes, this is the same ol' blog. It's just got one new home.

I'd like to begin this post by saying EVERYTHING'S FINE, and IT WAS NOTHING. But I had to go for an ultrasound today because my doctor found a lump in my breast last week. The first thing I did was call my sister Celeste, because she's the most level-headed person I know, and tell her, "This is me not freaking out. So I need you to not freak out with me." The next call, before I even made it back to my office, was to my friend Polly, because that's what I do in these situations. I call one of my family members, and then I call Polly. And she told me that I shouldn't overreact, but if I did want to overreact, then I had every right to. Because if you couldn't overreact over something like that, what could you overreact over? And that was it. Panic over. Because hey, now I had an "Overreact if you want to" card in my pocket. And once you have one of those, you don't need to overreact. Half of the reason you overreact is because you're trying so hard not to. Once you don't have to try not to, then hey! you're halfway there. (If that paragraph made sense to you, then congratulations! You can follow girl logic.)

So today was the appointment, and I wore tights and and a pink skirt and heels, and on the subway down to the office, I put on some lipstick. Because if I was going to potentially have breast cancer, I damn well was going to look cute when I got tested. Now, I'm lazy about nail polish, blowdry my hair literally once a year, and never wear makeup to work. But if I'm facing a situation that intimidates me, you better believe I'm going to be done to the hilt. Girl armor. There's just something about knowing you look your best that makes you square your shoulders and face problems a little stronger. I was dating someone years ago, and he came over late at night when I was already ready for bed. We were fighting, and he was launching into"do we just walk away now?", and all I could say was, "We cannot have this conversation when I'm not wearing make-up." He looked at me like I had lost my mind, but another woman would have understood perfectly.

A handful of my girlfriends met me out for dinner last night. Two of them planned it, and they called it a girls' night, and we never once mentioned the test, but I knew exactly why they suggested the dinner. And it made me love them even more. After all, aren't our friends the very best form of girl armor there is?