love is like a big black piano being pushed off a building.

Currently Listening To: Who'll Stop the Rain by Credence Clearwater Revival

My Best Friend: is getting married today! And my other best friend is going to the wedding with me! Yay, cake! And, uh ... love, commitment, romance and all that other stuff. ;)

My apologies for a lackluster blog last week. Next week we'll return to our usual zaniness. Next week I'm writing about a recent trip to North Carolina. Dolly Parton and Uncle Traveling Matt (of Fraggle Rock fame) will feature in that post. So will Nigel, who must remain a mystery for now. It is not to be missed.

I do have a few things to write about today though. For starters, Ruth sent over another bloggy award. Sweet! These things are just too cute. We need to build a virtual award hut for them. This one is called The Splash Award and has a mermaid on it! Do you know how often I randomly start singing lines from "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid? Often. My neighbors love me.* (Was that too much information?)

Anywho. Thank you, Ruth. This is so kind. I'm particularly fond of this picture, because I think the mermaid is about to catch a seahorse with a net. A girl has to have creative hobbies if she lives under the sea**. (And before the modesty police is called, I can totally see a little purple swimsuit top. I don't know how she's keeping it on ... but it's there.) Sursly, though. Ruth and I have been blog friends for a few years now. Actually, we worked at the same company for awhile. I didn't ever get to hang out with her. I wish I had. I needed a lunch buddy. You might think this it odd not to know someone at work ... but the company was massive. Like it's own little continent massive. Much like Wanka Towers, sometimes people went in ... and they never came back out. There were so many hidden caverns in there too. Several times, I had to go down to "The Cage" which wasn't for fights (sadly) but was more of a warehouse for resources. Do you know what I found once in "The Cage"? A giant cardboard cutout of William Shatner. One of my jobs at this company (as a pond-scummy intern :) was to find a place that could make a cardboard cutout of an author (her request). So her fans could have their pictures made with her cardboard likeness. I wish I was kidding. I recommended the William Shatner likeness but my boss didn't go for it.

Ruth is not as jaded by the experience as me. She's a nicer person in general :) She also writes great book reviews. I remember several of you talking about historicals you enjoyed. Ruth likes historicals too. So if you ever need a new recommendation, scoot on over to her blog, Booktalk&more, and ask for one. She'll give you tons (she also reads at lightspeed :). And if you like BBC programming ... her blog will be like a candy store for you. She's a great writer. Great reviewer. Great friend. Our mermaid award could not come from a cooler source.

Now, let's talk TV.

This week I DVR'd Flashforward, a new TV show starring Joseph Fiennes. Remember him? Shakespeare from Shakespeare in Love? The show plays out like this: Everybody in the world blacks out at exactly the same time for two minutes (or so). They all have visions six months out, visions of a day in the future when something bad happens. Now everybody on earth is scrambling trying to figure out who is responsible for the blackout, how it happened, and what really bad thing will go down in April of next year. I really like it so far. Very intriguing. Very scary (if you're easily scared, like I am). I can't believe how quick the time goes by while I watch it. I hope it lasts awhile. I also hope they don't throw too many curves in there. I lose interest with a story that never resolves *cough*Lost*cough.

All the way through the show I kept thinking about how much J-Fine looks like his brother Ralph Fiennes (alias Voldemort). Until now, I didn't see much of a resemblance at all. In the show though, wowzers. It's crazy how similar their faces look sometimes. This reminds me of a funny story.

A couple of years ago, when I was reading THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE, I heard a rumor that J. Fine would be in the movie version of THE DEATHLY HALLOWS.

I said to my brother: Oh, cool. Do you think he'll be Voldemort's family? *my eyes grew wider, because I believed I had stumbled upon a very exciting clue* ... Does Voldemort have a brother?

Chase looked at me, very seriously.

He said (without any semblance of a smile): Yes, Voldemort has a brother. Frankdemort. He's an accountant. A squib. He can't do magic. You aren't to that part yet.

His sarcasm is actually quite endearing.

I've been collecting some great quotes lately (some from books, some just attributed to authors I like). I was planning to share them with you. I hadn't planned to share them all at once ... but I might forget them if I don't. So. Hopefully, this onslaught of awesome won't diminish the coolness of each individual passage. They'll rock your world. I'm certain :) Here goes.

First, we have a quote from Jean Ritchie. I think she's one of the brightest artists in the world. If you're in need of something to do, read a little bit about her life. She was born in Viper, Kentucky. How can your life not be prime story material if you're born in a place called Viper Kentucky?! :) This one will really resonate with all you artsy types, particularly if you're in middle school or high school. Here's her quote:

I watched the brightening of the sky and was proud that I could feel the frail beauty of it. I felt proud of my ... lonesome feelings. I felt proud that I was who I was. I wondered if anyone would ever understand how much was in my mind and heart. I wondered if ever there'd come somebody who would know. You couldn't talk about such things. You had to talk about corn and dishes and brooms and meetings and lengths of cloth and lettuce beds. If you should start to talk about the other things -- the things inside you -- folks might think you were getting above your raising. Highfalutin. Maybe I was the only one. Maybe nobody else in this world felt the things I felt and thought the things I thought in my mind.

- Jean Ritchie, from her book SINGING FAMILY OF THE CUMBERLANDS (quote lifted from SOMETHING'S RISING by Silas House and Jason Howard. I will definitely be talking about this book at length.)

Next is a passage from a story by Kelly Link. Her book, PRETTY MONSTERS, was pretty much unbelievable. The writing in that collection will knock you flat. I'm seriously surprised it doesn't get talked up more often:

Nobody tells her to shut up. It would be pointless. Amy has a large heart and an even larger mouth. When it rains, Amy rescues worms off the sidewalk. When you get tired of having a secret, you tell Amy. Understand: Amy isn't that much stupider than anyone else in the story. It's just that she thinks out loud.

- Kelly Link from PRETTY MONSTERS

The next is from Nick Hornby. Don't know if I agree, but I find it funny (and kind of interesting):

"It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party."

- Nick Hornby

My version might be more like: it is no good pretending you are cooler than me because you listen to indy bands and watch art house movies.

Next up is my hero:

Some things have to be believed to be seen.

- Madeleine L'Engle (from the book MANY WATERS)

You'll note a trend coming up. I'm a bit of a Zusak fangirl.

Sometimes people are beautiful.

Not in looks.

Not in what they say.

Just in what they are.

- Markus Zusak (I forgot to write down where I got this ... but I'm pretty sure it's from I AM THE MESSENGER)

She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Liesel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on the lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of the tress and in the glow of the anarchist's suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers. ... She did not say goodbye. She was incapable, and after a few more minutes at his side, she was able to tear herself from the ground. It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on.

- Markus Zusak, THE BOOK THIEF

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

- Markus Zusak, THE BOOK THIEF

(Worth noting: THE BOOK THIEF is narrated by Death.)

This next one is from Andrew Sean Greer. If you read my old blog, you might remember last year when I was freaking out over a book called THE CONFESSIONS OF MAX TIVOLI. I liked it so much, I picked up the other novel the author had written; STORY OF A MARRIAGE. Typically, I loathe the whole "I am beautiful and my life is sooo harrrd because I'm sooo beautiful. Pity me ..." shtick. But this is well written. This has some depth to it. Behold the amazingness that is Andrew Greer's writing:

"Beauty is a warping lens. He had the kind of looks that are always greeted by grins and handshakes, extra glances, stares held for a moment longer than usual; a smile and a face not easily forgotten. Even the way he held a cigarette, or leaned over to tie his shoe, had a certain masculine grace that made you want to sketch him. What a distorted, confusing way to live. To be offered jobs and rides and free drinks -- "It's on the house, sweetie" -- to sense a room changing as you move through it. Watched everywhere you go. To be someone people long to possess, and to be used to this feeling; to be wanted so immediately, so often, that you have never known for yourself what you might want."

I saved my favorite for last. This is from a story by Sandra Cisneros. In a creative writing class in college, we had to pick an author we liked and then try and mimic him or her with our style. I picked Sandra Cisneros. My effort was pretty shabby. Like sticking a page from a coloring book on the wall beside a Monet. She's amazing though:

Rachel says that love is like a big black piano being pushed off the top of a three story building and you're waiting on the bottom to catch it. But Lourdes says it's not that way at all. It's like a top, like all the colors in the world are spinning so fast they're not colors anymore and all that's left is a white hum.

There was a man, a crazy who lived upstairs from us when we lived on South Loomis. He couldn't talk, just walked around all day with a harmonica in his mouth. Didn't play it. Just sort of breathed through it, all day long, wheezing, in and out. This is how it is with me. Love I mean.

- Sandra Cisneros from WOMAN HOLLERING CREEK: AND OTHER STORIES

Reading anything cool you want to share? Did you ever find Frankdemort in your Harry Potter reading? Because he never showed up in my book ...

Hope you're having a happy weekend.

*Betcha on land, they understand. Bet they don't .... reprimand their daughters. Bright young women. Sick of swimming. Ready to stand.

** What do they got ... a lotta sand? We got a hot crustacean band!