Thursday Thirteen: Books

Yet again, I am procrastinating, putting off the grading (uggh!) that I should / could be doing. But it seems like a fun "thirteen" is thirteen favorite books / authors, or at least authors that I find particularly meaningful in some way. So, in no particular order, here e go. . .

1. C.S. Lewis. Although it's not his most widely read work, I'm convinced that Till We Have Faces is his very, very best. And I am of the opinion that everyone should read it. And it proves definitively that Lewis, so often called a misogynist, really does "get" women. Till We Have Faces absolutely changed the way that I think about relationships.

2. Margaret Atwood. I've been rereading The Handmaid's Tale for a class I'm teaching. And it strikes me that Atwood is such a skilled, intentional writer. Her work feels so very well crafted.

3. J.R.R. Tolkien.

4. Beatrix Potter

5. Harper Lee. I'm convinced that if there is a single great American novel, then To Kill a Mockingbird is it.

6. Virginia Woolf. Mrs. Dalloway has changed me forever.

7. Chaucer (but not Shakespeare!)

8. Nathaniel Hawthorne. I adore "The Minister's Black Veil."

9. E.B. White. I love this line from Charlotte: You have been my friend. . .That in itself is a tremendous thing. . .After all, what's a life anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. . .By helping you, perhaps I was trying to life up my life a trifle.

10. Beowulf

11. Flannery O'Connor. O'Connor is hard to deal with, hard to even talk about. But she rocks my world. Seriously.

12. Colin Dexter / G.K. Chesterton / PD James. Ok, I LOVE the British murder mystery, particularly the character-driven, "cozy" mystery. I'm convinced that these writers have this deep understanding of the complexities and beauties and horrors of the human condition.

13. P.G Wodehouse. I came to Jeeves and Wooster via Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry. But I've discovered that Wodehouse is every bit as funny and clever and smart as Laurie's and Fry's representations of his characters. It's truly, truly laugh-out-loud stuff. And when I need something light, this is my go-to guy.


Ok, conspicuously absent are Hemingway (The Old Man and the Sea is like my literary nemesis) and JK Rowling.

Thursday Thirteen, Project Runway Edition

Yes, it's only Wednesday. But I've been vegging out, watching Bravo's Project Runway for the last couple of hours. And Project Runway is probably the least objectionable of the "reality" TV that I indulge in. So as I've been watching and sipping red wine (love the Coppola red blend!) and browsing magazines, I've felt inspired to post a quickie "thirteen." So here it is for your edification.

I want to be someone who wears

1. Hats. I want more hats in my day-to-day existence. I'm particularly fond of winter hats.

2. Jackets. This season, J Crew has the cutest, hippest jackets. I want jackets in fun colors and funky textures. I especially want jackets with 3/4 sleeves, so that I can layer them with fun colors.

3. Sunglasses, preferably with pink lenses

4. Fun, funky, campy tee shirts. I have a pink tee that says "Wild Thing." And there's a picture of one of Sendak's creatures. What's better than that?

5. Knee socks. I'm particularly fond of argyles and stripes. I'm particularly partial to pink.

6. Scarves. Wooly scarves, crocheted scarves, silk scarves, scarves for the ski slopes, scarves reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn: I LOVE them all. And it seems worth making the concerted effort to incorporate more scarves into my daily look.

7. Interesting tights. I love tights with interesting colors and textures. Recently my mom sent me this great pair of black and grey argyle tights. What could be finer?

8. Dresses. I've decided that I want more dresses in my wardrobe. I wear skirts, usually A-lines, with sweaters and tights often. But I want more dresses, particularly in corduroy and in wool blends.

9. Boots. I so enjoy wearing boots, especially with skirts or dresses. Boots make me happy and confident in a way that's completely irrational and wonderful.

10. Belts. I've not been wearing belts the past few years. And yet, I want to try. I want to make the effort to attempt belts. Maybe my heavier body can't handle belts--I don't know. But it seems worth a go.

11. Glittery make-up. I know that some would say I'm too old for it, but I absolutely LOVE fun cosmetics. Glitter eyeshadow just makes me happy. Ditto for frosted blue eyeshadow, the kind we wore in the late 80s. I know it's silly, even campy, but I adore it all.

12. Tattoos. I have one and only one. But I want at least two more.

13. Clothing and accessories of my own creation. I love wearing items that I've designed or made or remade. It gives me this sense of accomplishment and power.

Some of these things, like boots, I do wear frequently. Others I'd like to incorporate. But they make me happy. Not very long ago, I was someone who displayed a definite sense of style. I want to feel like that woman again.

I'm taking a break from grading, grading, grading. Arggh! How much grading can one Professor be reasonably expected to complete. OK, to be fair, I was the one who assigned all this stuff, so by rights, I should be the one who has to grade it. But there are moments when it becomes mind-numbing. Oops--is this turning into one of those posts that's going to come back to haunt me someday if /when I'm on the job market? And more to the point, really, will there come a day when I am back on the job market? But what I really wanted to say is that for the past four days or so, it's just been cold. I don't think it got to much about 20 today (and that's 20 Fahrenheit, I'll have you know!) And, already, I'm tired of being cold. I'm tired of sloshing through snow. I'm tired of having to worry about slipping and falling in the parking lot. It's somehow all way more complicated than, as a Californian, I would have imagined. And yet it's somehow magical too. I cannot the way that I feel as I sit before a toasty-warm fire and watch the snow fall. I cannot convey the comfort of the long nights, seemingly custom made for reading long novels. I cannot explain the sheer joy of picking just the right scarf and hat and actually layering clothing. Wearing sweaters and jackets and wooly tights and socks is such fun in that J. Crew, non-SoCal kind of way. Maybe I'm just trying to make my peace with winter here--I'm not sure. But somehow the discomforts of winter are, at least a little bit, offset by the sense of coziness. This, I suppose, is winter in New England.