Sexist, shmexist

The other day, The Princess was coloring a picture from The Nutcracker. It was a man in Chinese silk pajamas that she was coloring red with a big fat crayon.

“Who’s that girl?” Clooney asked.

“That’s not a girl,” The Princess corrected him. “It’s a boy.”

“It can’t be a boy,” Clooney protested. “Boys don’t do ballet.”

They got into an argument, which, they naturally brought to me for judgement. My ruling was that Clooney was being sexist.

“Cool,” he said smiling at his sister. “I’m sexiest.”

And I had to explain to him that sexist and sexiest are not the same thing at all. (And by the way, how does an eight-year-old even know what “sexiest” is??)

So, any way, speaking if sexist (not sexiest) I had been waiting a long time to be able to read the Madeline books to The Princess. At first she wasn’t into them, so we never really got through the story. Then the other night, I tried again, and we made it all the way through the first one. She liked it okay, but here’s the thing: Clooney loved it. Not only did he love it, but the next night, after he had fallen asleep, and I went to tuck him in, the Madeline book was lying by his bed. He had read it again on his own.

It never occurred to me to feed the Madeline books to my son. Sexist, right? So I bought one of the sequels, Madeline’s Rescue, and when I read it to them, he laughed and laughed like the end was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Last night, he finished reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, which he’d been working on since right before Thanksgiving. And when I went to tuck him in, after he’d fallen asleep, I found Madeline’s Rescue on top of the Rowling.


The Marriage Plot

The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides was an audiobook that I really enjoyed. Sure, it doesn’t have the snappy, shocking subject matter of his smash hit, Pulitzer-winning Middlesex, but it is full of great characters and the same touching tragicomic prose that we have come to expect from Eugenides.

Many other reviewers have recounted the plot, so I will not bother to get into the details here. Mostly it involves a love-triangle between Madeline Hanna, child of wealth and priveledge and two guys who are not, Mitchell Gramaticus and Leonard Bankhead, all of whom have just graduated from Brown in 1982. We then follow the three of them over the next year as they try to figure out their relationships with each other and what the next steps in their lives might be.

I found the characters genuine, despite the litany of esoteric references to authors and ideas that don’t get much play outside the academic world. The book isn’t about those references, and I think there’s really only one spot where the narrative gets bogged down with them, but overall, the action keeps moving. There were times when I laughed out loud, and other times when I gasped at the twist that the story had taken.

In addition, I found David Pittu’s reading of the novel to be a wonderful experience. I wish more audio books were this lively. He did a wonderful job of changing voices for different characters, and really bringing them to life.

The ending of the novel may be less than satisfying for some readers, but for me, the only disappointment, was that the story ended too quickly.



When She Woke by Hillary Jordan

Hi, I’ve been busy writing, dealing with home issues, chairing the book fair at the Princess’s school as well as traveling, but I have recently posted a book review here at Egghead23 is reading. Thanks for stopping by, hope all is well with you.


WTF, John Cusack?

I don’t mean to keep harping on the guy, but this was an actor who had once showed so much promise. And now he’s doing this??

 

Crime fighting Edgar Allen Poe? Um, no. The pitch: From Hell meets Se7en.

“No matter how this ends, you’ll be relieved when it does.”

Chalk up another straight-to-DVD release for Cusack. Makes me sad.

To quote Get Shorty: “I’ve seen better film on teeth.”


Zombies, Shmombies

There seems to be a lot of zombies out there this season. For some reason, zombies are in. There’s The Walking Dead, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, video games with zombies, and about a million movies about zombies. All the kids I’m talking to on the bus stop, they’re planning to be zombies for Halloween.

I hate zombies. I pretty much feel the same way about zombies as I do about roller coasters. Call me crazy, but when it comes to roller coasters…well, they’re not my thing. I don’t know if I will live to be 110 years old, but even if I do, that puts death close enough for comfort. I don’t need to artificially enhance the feeling of imminent death. As far away as death might be at any moment, that’s close enough for me.

And that’s how I feel about zombies. I encounter enough people on a regular basis, working, driving, talking about Celebrity Apprentice, that I don’t need any fictional zombies.


A kid’s video review of Pottermore.com


A new blog just for book reviews

I am launching a new blog today called egghead23 is reading, which will cover just books in the future. Please feel free to subscribe and enjoy!


Wizard of Oz Party

My daughter turned six last week, and she wanted to have  a Wizard of Oz themed party. For her cake, I decided to do a rainbow layered thing. The idea was to make it shaped like a house, and have the Wicked Witch of the East’s legs sticking out from under it.

A few days before making the cake, I used gum paste to make the legs. I added some food coloring to make the shoes, and then I rolled those in colored sugar to make them sparkle.

I also used the gum paste to make the door and windows for the house. For the bottom layer of the cake, I used a 13×9″ pan, and one box of chocolate cake mix. Then, I used two boxes of yellow cake to make the house part. I wanted to do six layers, one for each color of the rainbow, so I divided the batter by six — and it came out to about 1 and a third cups each.

Purple was in the oven when I took this photo.

I used an 8×8 pan to make the layers for the house.

I don’t really like fondant cakes, so I don’t work with fondant. First of all, I don’t think fondant is all that tasty, but also, like I have said in the past, I don’t claim to be any kind of Martha Stewart. I don’t believe all cakes were made to look professional. They should look homemade. If anything, you should want your professionally made cakes to look like they’re homemade so that all of your party guests will think you spent all day toiling in the kitchen. That’s the mark of a good hostess.

Anyway, fully assembled and iced:

Then I went to get my daughter from school, and I guess I had assembled it too quickly, because when I got home, the whole back side had slid off:

But no, worries, just more frosting, and I kept this side against the wall:

Inside the cake:

Other touches included a green punch made of ginger ale, pineapple juice and sherbet. I put a witch’s hat over the punch bowl, so that it had looked like the witch had melted there. The punch was just okay. I mean, who even drinks punch anymore? Isn’t punch sort of a thing from a bygone era…like aspic?

I also had potato sticks to represent the Scarecrow’s straw, and a bowl full of animal crackers (Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!) The cowardly lion didn’t have much representation here, but I had silver-colored plates and napkins in honor of the Tin Man, and we also had a “Pin the Heart on the Tin Man” game.

Last, but not least, were the goodie bags, done in the color of those magical shoes. Inside there were bubbles (like those of Glenda the Good Witch) and (Manfrengensen’s idea) munchkins from Dunkin Donuts.

It was a fun party, and we all had a good time. Though by the end of the evening, I was glad to be able to put my feet up after  everyone realized that there was no place like home.


Random Notes from the First Week of School

Waiting at the bus stop with other parents, one woman remarked on the toe rings of an Indian woman who was also sending her kids on the bus. The Indian woman explained that the rings were put there by her husband at their wedding, which we suburban American housewives found fascinating.. And then she did the coolest thing: she told us about herself. I’m not the kind of person who pries into the lives of others, so I’ve never had the stones to ask an immigrant what it’s like for them. And the crazy thing is that I am curious, but I don’t want to bother them.

Anyway, she told us about the toe rings, and how she never takes them off. And she also explained that the diamond stud in her left nostril was put there by her mother when she came of age. It was a symbol to the community that she was a woman. (I told her that the symbol for me was standing in line at the drug store buying maxi-pads. I think I like her culture better.)

“People in my office think I am some kind of hipster, that I am so cool,” she said, “but I am really just a conservative Indian woman.”

And then she looked wistfully at her 10-year-old daughter and shrugged her shoulders. “But that’s just me. It is not the way for her.”

I don’t know, it was just a beautiful moment in my otherwise waterlogged week.

I really like Indian culture too. I do think she’s a hipster! I wish I could wear a sari without looking like I’m making some bold fashion statement. The way Indian women dress is something I find incredibly beautiful. It’s so much better than the way American women dress with our sexuality on display. Indian women dress in a feminine style that means something…something other than check out these ta-tas — and it’s absolutely timeless. I’ll tell you what — there are no Indian Winx, and that’s a good thing.

Speaking of culture clashes, ever since Edison was in second grade, he has loved the following joke: Why is six afraid of seven? Because seven eight nine. Get it? He finds that hilarious after all these years. We all have that kind of joke, don’t we? For me it’s that I have a dentist appointment at tooth-hurty. He he he.

Anyway, Edison started taking Spanish this week, and over dinner, he told us that the joke doesn’t work in Spanish because “siete ocho nueve!” Ha ha ha. (He added the ha’s in a deep voice.)

Siete ocho nueve.


Too Lazy to Love You by Frank Bango

I have had this song in my head for a few weeks now, and I have loved every delicious note: