Only Book Club With People You Love

So you joined a book club.  And it's your turn to pick.  Your ideal title?  One that's not too serious but not too light, right in the sweet spot of what you'd enjoy and what you think others would enjoy too.  You search and search, but it isn't easy.  You've read this one, the others wouldn't like that one, and this one is about aliens.  Wait, what's this?  A New York Times bestseller and, oh look, the 2021 book club pick of the summer!  Plus, it's by an author you already know and love.  You click Add to Cart, feeling virtuous and even a little smug about what a good choice you've made.  But then again, you know books.  You've been a reader all your life.  You brought books to the playground, you majored in English.  You've got this.

And then one of the other book club members starts reading the book and tells you that there's something in it that'll upset another member.  And you're suddenly feeling all of the things, none of them good.  Your confidence in your ability to recognize quality literature has been shaken.  What's more, now you know how the others felt when you were so put off by The Guest List that you couldn't even finish it.  

Obviously, the "you" in this story is me, and the person who couldn't read my book was my mom or sister.  I'm not going to tell you which, nor will I reveal the title of my bad apple pick.  Partly because I don't want to open that door, but mostly because I protect the privacy of my nearest and dearest better than my own.  When I told the husband what happened, he said that 1) (without any prompting) I know good books (I knew I married him for a reason!), and 2) unless all we read is comics, this is going to keep happening.  He is, of course, right.  As was I when I said that reading is a very personal thing in last year's hard-hitting My Book Club, My Boyfriend.  

Nevertheless, this experience has forced me to grow.  There was a time when I'd cringe even after picking a movie that the other person didn't like.  So if nothing else, then being in a book club has ripped the Band-Aid right off that nonsense.  It also reminds me that other people have nonnegotiables and triggers too, and that we all need to be sensitive to each other's needs.  Still, I don't think I could be in a book club with anyone who isn't family.  Because although my mom and sister and I may sometimes disagree, there's no malice under it.  They're a safe space because they're my people.  And if I'm going to discuss books -- and all the baggage and emotions that come with that -- then I want to do it with people I love.        

That said, I'll still read my slush pile selection.  

I'll just keep it between me, myself, and I -- a.k.a. my book club of one.    

Ribbons and Bows and Lots of New Clothes: I Enjoy being a (Gilmore) Girl

Top: Monteau, Marshalls
Jeans: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's
Bag: Glamour Damaged, Etsy
Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, DSW

Blue and Lime Dot Double Bow Barrette 

Peach and White Stripe Double Bow Barrette 

Embellished skirt: Macy's
Ruffle skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney
Pockets skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Rainbow Ribbon Necklace

I was already planning on the ribbons and bows and clothes component of this post. Because there are few things I enjoy more than trotting out the still-tagged items in my staging closet. What's a staging closet, you ask? In my case, it's the tiny, old-timey closet adjacent to the actual closet in my bedroom. I like to think that it was where some stray cat slept back in 1927 when this house was built (not really; I'm not a cat person and don't know why I said that. Maybe because it sounded more PC than saying a servant slept there or something.) The husband uses the actual closet, whereas my closet is one of the spare bedrooms. Yes, you read that correctly. An entire bedroom is my closet -- and it's full. Maybe someday when I'm feeling brave and/or braggy I'll photograph it and post it here.  But let's get back to the matter at hand, namely, what do I keep in the staging closet? Clothes I haven't worn yet. Also, less glamorously, my winter pajamas, workout clothes (i.e. hole-speckled over-sized tees, hoodies with broken zippers, and exactly three pairs of sweatpants). Anyway, I was all set to center this post around my old faithful and favorite topic of fashion when I read Lauren Graham's Talking as Fast as I Can: From Gilmore Girls to Gilmore Girls (and Everything in Between). And I thought, hey, why not throw in something a little cerebral? What's that? An autobiography by an actress is about as cerebral as a smoothie? Maybe some of them, but not this one. And also, smoothies are good for you.

I used to watch "Gilmore Girls" back in the day, but I sense that there are episodes, or maybe even whole seasons, I missed. (Clearly, I wasn't always the loyal TV devotee that you know and love today.) But I remember really liking it. Lorelai and Rory had the kind of cool, best-friendsy relationship that every mother and daughter wanted, and no small screen duo has come close since, except for maybe Jane and Xiomara from "Jane the Virgin" (which, like "Gilmore Girls" once did, airs on the CW. Coincidence? I think not.). Lorelai and Rory's snappy, adjective-laden dialogue was the kind you'd find in a quality chick lit novel, and the setting of Stars Hollow was postcard perfect in a modern-day Norman Rockwell, college town kind of way, making it an ideal backdrop for all those conversations.

Which brings me to Talking as Fast as I Can. You know that I love autobiographies by comediennes, and this is a really good one. In no small part, I'm sure, because Graham is not just an actress, but a writer (she wrote the semi-autobiographical novel Someday, Someday, Maybe. I know it's only semi-autobiographical because she goes to great lengths to correct the misconception that it is entirely autobiographical in Fast.). This book is filled with the kind of random observations and personal anecdotes that I've come to love in light-hearted memoirs. One of my favorite parts is when Graham introduces her alter ego, Old Lady Jackson (OLJ for short). She invented OLJ to give advice to her young costars on Parenthood so she wouldn't sound like a stick in the mud. For example:

"OLJ is (obviously overly) worried about things like that dating app that wants you to have your location on all the time (how is that possibly safe?) and the fact that all you ate yesterday were liquids that came in mason jars from that juice place on the corner (really? No solid foods at all?). OLJ doesn't love it when that guy texts you at eleven o' clock on a Friday night after you haven't heard from him all week and wants you to "hang out," and you do. She's worried that you aren't being treated as well as you deserve, and while she understands that "things are different now," surely there have to still be people out there with better manners and an ability to make plans with you at least a day or two ahead of time?" (158)

Classic, right? A real Mary Poppins for the digital age. Even if it is for the clubbing vs. Romper Room set. (Please, no notes about how "Romper Room" came out long after Mary Poppins.)

I just may go back and watch the entire series ("Gilmore Girls," not "Romper Room"), then launch right into the much-anticipated Netflix "Gilmore Girls" special "A Year in the Life."

Because Stars Hollow is a happy place, one where new clothes and flowery prose are celebrated in equal measure.

And also to see if I can find the ghost (or, what the heck, cat) embodying the spirit of Old Lady Jackson.