Oprah's got her tantalizing reading list after the headline, "What to Read Next: Our 26 Favorite Books of the Summer." But before she jumps into her great reveal, I'm treated to "O's Declaration of Reader Independence," which is I guess her list of rules that I need to know before I commence tackling the rest.
She wants me to know that while there are thousands of books "landing in bookstores every year, it's all too easy to go with the flow and let group-think choose what you'll read and treasure next."
But then she completely confuses me and says that reading is very personal and you should "declare your independence from common wisdom, lore, and the opinions of others."
Well, for Dicken's sake, Oprah, make up your frickin' mind. Do you want me to read these favorite books or not? Whose opinion, exactly, should I ignore? My sister's? Yours? Maybe Kathy Griffin's opinion? What kind of lunatic suggests 26 books with a preface that you shouldn't listen to anyone else's opinion? Have you been talking to my mother?
I need more coffee to unravel this Gordian Knot, so while I'm waiting for it to finish brewing, I take a look at the 10 rights she has alloted to me as a reader.
#4: "Reread a childhood favorite. But be forewarned: Charlotte still dies." When am I supposed to find time to squeeze in "Harriet the Spy?" After the 26 books you want me to read or before (or do you want me to even read them)? And Charlotte still dies? Is it too much to ask for a spoiler alert?
#6: "Wish that Cormac McCarthy would use a little punctuation now and then." Okay; this is uncanny. Just last night when I was watching "Top Chef" (and Padma, you're looking so much better as new Padmom than you ever did as a stick-thin foodie) I pulled out "Dana's List of Wishes," and I swear this is true. Right after #43 (wishing Denzel Washington would get that restraining order against me lifted), #44 is all about Cormac's blatant disregard for commas! Oprah, I am feeling much more of a connection with you than I ever thought possible!
#8: "Ignore memoirs by people who have barely cracked their 30s." Oprah, let go of James Frey already, will you? Learn to forgive.
My favorite self-evident right (but on the other hand, if it's self-evident, Oprah, why are you telling me...your contradictions are completely confusing me) is #10: "Believe that books can be magic carpets to enchanted lands, even while realizing they're inanimate objects made of ink and paper."
See, this is exactly the nebulous airy-fairy meaningless advice that I expect from you and I'm psyched that you haven't disappointed me.
But still, I'm a little disappointed. And confused.
Declaration of Reader Independence (Sort of)
Which summer trend sent you running to the shops? Which trends are already tired?
My biggest fashion disaster while on a date?
Okay, but you have to promise to not tell anyone. Seriously.
After a few weeks of emails and phone calls, I made a date to meet Chris for a dinner date.
I didn't have crazily high hopes; he seemed nice enough but I purposely didn't want to do my then-typical overkill of preparation (nails, waxing, the expensive body lotion, brand new lingerie; you know the drill).
Instead, I decided I'd be cool and meet him after work for a drink; then I wouldn't have time to go home and second-guess every possible outfit choice.
I got in the car, threw on fresh lipgloss and met him, telling myself at least this time I was slowing down and going into this date relaxed.
I met Chris at a very laid-back bar in Harvard Square and we had a few drinks. Conversation went pretty well; we laughed.
A second date seemed likely.
Chris walked me to my car, gave me a somewhat awkward hug, and I headed home.
Smiling happily, I glanced in the rearview mirror at my happy face.
That's when I saw the gigantic piece of spinach covering my front tooth.
I had a spinach salad for lunch; it must have somehow taken over my front tooth during the day and I had no idea.
Talk about mortifying.
Oprah, Stop Contradicting Yourself. It's Making me Crazy.
Hammocks are Like Mean Girls in School
Livvy (aka "Thing 2") has her driver's permit, so for the next 6 months, whenever I go somewhere you should know that Livvy is driving and I'm copilot in the green Mini Cooper (with British racing stripes and a sunroof). The car is our new pride and joy and we make "vroom, vroom" sounds when we take corners or accelerate, and we pretend we're Charlize Theron in "The Italian Job" and feel super sexy. But I don't condone safe cracking as a career, even if you're doing it for revenge because a really bad guy tricked your dad and shot him.
Anyway, we went to pick up Ian (aka "Thing 3") from day camp and stopped at the grocery store on the way home so they could buy me surprises for my impending Friday birthday (I hope Oprah has something in the magazine about celebrating birthdays because that would be way cool and a sign from the universe that this project is meant to be).
I picked up the very sherbet-y colored "O" magazine and was super excited about the cover, because here I am with fuck-all to do this summer and O promises "26 Books You'll Love" with the word underlined in orange, so they must really mean it!
"Mystery! Romance! Enlightenment! Pleasure! Thrills!" introduces the promise of the biggest, best summer reading list ever (exclamation points theirs)!
Oprah is half-sitting/half-lying in an orange hammock set against a very blue beach underneath what appears to be either a tiki hut or a bale of dried hay that was suspended over her. Looks pretty nice. I can't quite tell if she's trying to get in or out of the hammock as she's got her left foot firmly planted on the wooden boards below her, her right knee bent with her right foot on the very orange hammock, her right hand clutching her upper shin and her left arm dangling out of the hammockfrom shoulder to hand as she's holding an open book.
Because Oprah says it's important to live in the moment, I think about my feelings towards hammocks. I'm a huge fan of hammocks in theory. They seem pleasant and harmless enough and offer the promise of many delightful hours simultaneously lying and swinging, ice tea in one hand, Oprah's book in another (or her magazine...as long as it's Oprah-related...I got your back, O!).
But in the cold hard streets where I roll, hammocks are like the mean girls who invite you to sit with them at lunch. They look at you and say, "Come hang out, it's easy! Just kind of place yourself carefully...oh, not so fast...wait, you're not doing it right...You're going to fall on your butt and embarrass yourself...don't you know the unspoken rules...try again...nope...still not right...steady...control yourself...".
And the second you feel comfortable, you try to increase your symbiotic relationship with said orange hammock (or those mean girls) by getting comfortable and relaxing in the moment, but as soon as you let down your guard, the hammockdecides it's had enough of your inadequacies and failures and unexpectedly flips you on your ass.
Looking at Oprah's face, she doesn't seem to trust the orange hammock either. I detect fear in those brown eyes and that "not really feeling it" half-smile.
Was Oprah a mean girl in school or did she pretend to have a stomach ache so she could lie in the nurse's office to avoid walking into social landmines as she clutched her bologna sandwich and smushed banana?
One thing Oprah must know for sure is that her single foot on the ground isn't going to help her when the hammock pulls rank and decides to flip.
I wonder what's holding the hammock up at both ends. Gayle and Stedman?
Be careful, Oprah!
What is one thing in life your friends said you could/would never do, but you did it anyway?
After high school, I realized that one of the most important qualities in a friend was someone who believed in me. So if ever I had a friend who said I couldn't do something, they're not really a friend.
Preparation Begins!
In December of 2007, a woman named Robyn Okrant began a blog called "Living Oprah," where her mission was to live her life for an entire year according to the advice of Oprah Winfrey. Oprah's guiding mission is to help people live their best life ever, and who can argue with that?
Robyn jumped whole-heartedly into her experiment and not only followed the Great O's advice in her lovely magazine, but also learned more about her best life potential by becoming a daily watcher of Oprah's show.
I don't have that much energy, but I want to try to live my own best life, too.
As a school teacher, I have the luxury of committing the next two months to also making this attempt, and for the rest of the summer I will also be following Oprah's sage advice.
If Oprah tells me to do something, I will. If she tells me she loves something and I should buy it, I will go out and buy that thing.
Oprah, I will live my best life according to your rules. And I will occasionally look back at Robyn's blog to ensure that my attitude remains as open and positive as hers. But I can't promise anything.
I question how Oprah knows my best life as we've never met, but I assume that she's uber-smart and knows more about me than I know about myself. Thanks, Oprah!
When Robyn began her experiment (and by the way, way to go, Robyn, for sticking with Oprah for a year!), part of her first post read, "Well, today I am starting the pre-work for my experiment, which will begin formally on January 1, 2008...I am very excited to get going. A little overwhelmed, but the novelty of the year ahead makes me giggle."
I love Robyn's open and positive attitude (and I bet Oprah did, too!). But I don't giggle. Not much of a giggler am I.
I wonder about women who do giggle, because the first definition of giggle that I found read as, "laugh lightly: to laugh audibly but not loudly, sometimes without meaning to, in a way that is characteristic of children."
I wonder what Oprah would say to women who laugh in a way that is characteristic of children. Something cutting, no doubt.
Today, I buy Oprah's magazine.