PunkKittyDiddy

Hell Yeah.....

.....of course Carrie Fisher's autobiography went straight to the top of my Christmas list as soon as I became aware of its existence.  I.G. was informed in due course.  Yet, surprisingly, I've had to continually poke at the presents under the tree at random intervals, and then shoot him woeful looks, accompanied by bitter sighs and vigorous hand-wringing, because I've thus far not come across anything even remotely book-shaped under there................

I already knew Fisher was an uproariously funny novelist.  And when her personal life involves her dad leaving her mom for Elizabeth Taylor; dropping acid; Cary Grant attempting to talk her out of dropping acid; a stay in an asylum; and a couple of failed marriages (one to a folk music superstar; a second to a closeted gay agent), there's really no danger of an anecdote shortage.

Yet it was the cover art and title that ultimately pushed this tome over the line into "must have" territory for me............

Can't.  Wait.

Quote of the Day

"There's so much catastrophizing about public school by people who have not set foot in there for decades because "no one goes there." I really don't think our school system is an evil borg force. It's sort of like the government. It's not even efficient enough to be a borg of total evil, even if it wanted to be."

    - Sandra Tsing Loh, on the state of public education in Los Angeles, from an interview on Salon.com.

I was reading the Salon interview, but the whole evil borg comparison stopped me in my tracks, compelled me to order her book ("Mother on Fire:  A True Motherf%#$@ Story On Parenting!") and then salivate over her incredible way with metaphor. 

I guess I just find it much easier to relate to a parent who references evil borgs instead of Dr. Sears or Supernanny.  Furthermore, I have no choice but to admire a parenting book that can incorporate the word "motherf%#$@" into its title.  You can probably count on one hand the number of parenting books that have pulled that off.  Actually, you can probably count on one finger the number of parenting books that have pulled that off. 

I'm totally impressed. 

He Can Infiltrate My Wardrobe Anytime

As a kid, I was a voracious reader.  Of course, in imagining along as I read, I typically cast myself as the central heroine of every story, and I was consistently inclined to cast any and all "older" adult-ish characters (basically anyone reputed to be over the age of 13 or so) as anonymous and faceless shadow figures......... not far off from how the grown-ups in those animated Charlie Brown specials were portrayed, which was off-screen altogether, speaking in a warbled, "Wah wah wah wah wah wah!" sort of blather, if and only if it was absolutely necessary to acknowledge the trifling presence of grown-ups in the first place. 

I read the Chronicles of Narnia repeatedly (its first installment, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, remained my favorite), and I have a vague recollection of Prince Caspian as just another such anonymous and faceless adult shadow figure.  Judging by the trailers, I see that the casting directors of the new upcoming movie opted to go in the "Latin hottie" direction instead.

Rahhhhhhhhr!  Nice choice.  It's a far more scenic direction, to be sure.

Rockabye: From Wild to Child

A very cool editor I know brought this book to my attention, and I'm so glad.......I certainly would have killed to have something encouraging like this to read when I was knocked up and wondering if my tattoos and piercings would guarantee me a sub-standard basement room come labor day because the hospital staff were surely going to dismiss me on sight as an uninsured vagrant pickpocket or something.

Better late than never!

Personally, I still struggle to find kindred spirited, non-mainstream moms to make friends with......so I'm not about to pass up the opportunity to tout a book which debunks the notion that you have to turn in your street cred for frequent shopper status at Pottery Barn Kids as soon as you've spawned.

I ordered this from Amazon earlier today based mostly on the impact of the gorgeous cover, and of course the brilliant concept, but having since read several excerpts, I have a feeling I won't be disappointed by the content, either.

To read more about this book, and its author Rebecca Woolf, check out her website.

And rock on! 

Miss Piggy's Guide To Life

I just bought my 225th (or thereabouts) self-help book.  I'm always vaguely embarrassed to admit that I buy and read self-help books....probably because I've bought and read 225 of them, and I still seem to be the same person with the same problems.  Oh, well.  Hope springs eternal, right?  Or so promises the self-help industry.  Come to think of it, they're all rather vested in the notion that their books not be too helpful, or else you wouldn't need to buy more of them.  Are there clinical terms for this phenomenon, like 'impermanent improvement'?  Or 'boomerang bolstering'?  I wonder if they have self-help conferences or workshops for self-help book authors, with panel discussions on topics like "How to Be Marginally Helpful, But Not SO Helpful That They Won't Need MORE Help."  Do self-help book authors read self-help books along those lines?  And in between panel discussions, do they complain to their colleagues over a cup of coffee that they're tired of being taught to be marginally helpful in a marginally helpful manner, so that they too must continually read more books and attend more workshops? 

For that matter, aren't most jobs in the world propelled by the notion that you have to do it well enough to remain employed, but not so well that you permanently complete your task, or irreversibly solve a particular problem.....lest there be no further use for you, and no accompanying paycheck? 

All interesting theories I'd like to explore in more detail, although it's making my head hurt a tad right now........and not why I started this entry.

My recent self-help purchase reminded me that I still own the very first self-help book I ever bought back in 1981, Miss Piggy's Guide To Life.  This was back when I came by money via "allowance" instead of "salary."  And you know what?  This is probably still one of the most useful self-help tomes in my possession.  Miss Piggy pioneered the whole no-holds-barred approach to self-help way before Dr. Phil swaggered onto the scene.  Case(s) in point:

On beauty, and being confident in one's appearance, she writes:  "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."

On using subliminal body language to convince a beau to take you out to a nice dinner if you are too ladylike to make the suggestion outright:  "As you pursue some innocuous conversational topic like the weather, you construct this simple 'secret' sentence:  "I" (point to yourself) "am famished" (rub tummy) "and would like to go out and eat" (knife and fork motions, with a little chewing).  "Your" (point to companion) "treat" (rub first two fingers and thumb together)."

Or in "Deck 'em or Decorum?", Piggy ponders thusly:  "Another kind of awkward moment is one in which you are confronted with really rotten behavior and have to choose between turning the other cheek and responding in a cool but civil manner, or deciding that what is right is a good left."

Great stuff.  Of course this was written back before self-entitlement had become a societal norm thanks to the shenanigans of the Paris Hiltons and Lindsay Lohans of the world.  Somehow, coming from Miss Piggy, the advice was more spirited than spoiled.

Z.'s napping, so maybe I'll crack open my latest self-help volume now, and perhaps even return to this blog tomorrow as a new, improved, calmer, happier, more enlightened human being!  If not, maybe I should write a self-help book for people who want to stop buying and reading a lot of self-help books.  Self-Helpless:  When The Helping Helps Less has a nice ring to it............