Tag Archives: books

Dear Library

25 Oct

Dear Library,

I adore libraries. Obviously: they’re buildings with books. For free. Even if books aren’t your style, they have movies. My one complaint is that they should allow food. I hate reading without eating.

And I understand that I’m part of a school system– the California State Universities– that is hurting like a stake stabbed under your thumbnail right now. They’re hurting so badly that when the graduate student union asked the president of my university to waive tuition for TAs (a standard practice across the country so that the meager sums they pay us to teach their courses don’t immediately go back to them in the form of US paying for OUR classes), he said that we shouldn’t worry about tuition. Because the university might shut down. Tomorrow.

If that isn’t a reason to exercise fee deferment eligibility, I don’t know what it is.

But, Library! I turned that book in on Monday! I don’t think hitting me up for late fees for a book that you lost is the way to go.

Me: So I turned that book in. To the box that says “Return Books Here.” Was I not supposed to do that?

Library Guy: When’d you turn it in?

Me: The day it was due.

Library Guy: It says here you haven’t turned it in yet.

Me: ….

Library Guy: Ok, I’ll fill out this form here claiming you SAY you “turned it in.”

Me: What then?

Library Guy: We’ll look for it. You’ll hear back from us in about five weeks. If we can’t find it, we’ll charge you for the book.

Me: But I turned it in.

Library Guy: Sure you did. If we can’t find it, then we charge you for it.

Me: Really? That’s how you’re going to play this?

Rumor is they charge more than the book retails for. Rumor is this has happened to at least 4 people that I know. I think I’m getting scammed. By the smallest, most white-collar, liberal-intelligentsia crime ring ever. You’d think they could just ask for donations.

What’s even better is that it’s a book that was sent over from the nearest University of California school. A system which gives their graduate TAs tuition waivers. It was a book that my poor, broke-ass library doesn’t even have.

OH THE INHUMANITY.

MM

Dear Online Dating Profiles

19 Apr

Note: I am a HUGE FAN of online dating, and I recommend it to all of my friends. I know people who have met online and are ridiculously happy and well matched. I also know people who started online dating and immediately met somebody in the “real world.” I don’t actually do it myself. This is not because I wouldn’t do it, but rather because I’m not actively trying to meet somebody at this point in my life. That being said, be safe, be persistent, and for the love of god, tell me all your stories.

But the profile creation process is ridiculous.

MM

  • Self summary - Skinny. Curly hair. Crooked nose. Feminist. Oh wait, am I not supposed to say this? Probably not. I did just read some online profile advice which gave an A+ to a profile that reads:

“Myself – restless, analytical, and opinionated. I am not offended by a dirty joke and can dish out one of my own. I am independent but far from being a feminist. Sarcasm is a spice of life, so bring it on. [Reviewer's comment: Guys really, really like to hear that.]“

UM. Why the need to distance yourself from being a feminist? First of all, being opinionated and independent is being a feminist.

Secondly, you really feel the need to qualify your claim of being independent?!? “Oh hey, guys, I’m independent, but not so independent I think I need equal rights or the ability to vote or anything like that! Hell no! I just mean that I can tie my own shoes, except I don’t need to, because I only wear high heels, even when I’m working out, which keeps me from being able to go too far, so don’t worry about me leaving the house.”

Thirdly, FEMINIST IS NOT A DIRTY WORD. It means you think women and men are equal.

I’M A FEMINIST AND I HOPE ANYONE I DATE IS ONE TOO.

And oh yeah: sarcasm. Right up with there with rosemary, thyme, and chili powder. One of the great spices of life! Oh wait, THAT’S NOT A PHRASE. But I sure am glad guys really, really like to hear it. Just how sarcastic do you like it? Because it’s pretty spicy in this neck of the woods, fellows.

  • What I’m doing with my life - God, I don’t know. Does anyone? This seems like an unfair question. It’s sending me into an existential spiral of doubt and questioning….FINE. I’ll say it. I’m in poetry school.
  • I’m really good at - I am a crackerjack parallel parker. I am also good at typing, spelling, and recounting conversations word-for-word.

What kind of stupid question is this? Do people traditionally answer this with a list of bedroom skill sets? I hope men still feel pressure to answer this with “man skills”: I’m good at sawing up shit and pounding nails and building log cabins. RAWR. And then girls can be all: I’m known for my pies two counties over! I’m excellent at wearing aprons, pearls, and keeping my mouth shut (except when you want it open, HEY-O)!

This is not a resume. But I did mean that thing I said about typing.

  • The first thing people usually notice about me - my intensity. WHAT?
  • Favorite books, movies, shows, music and food -

Well, first of all, another article I read recommends that women not describe themselves as “attractive” or “intelligent.” Errrrrrrr. Okay. (To be fair, they basically argue those words are vague and have no meaning. Which, from a writer’s standpoint, I agree with. On the other hand, the article manages to be sexist anyway.)

One of the commenters said this: “Actually name some books other than Bridget Jones Diary that you’ve read. What, you’ve never heard of Jonathan Franzen? Never read a book on politics or history? Fine, but you won’t be approached by intelligent men.”

OH MY SWEET LITERARY HAVEN. Jonathan Franzen is who you choose to mention? If you’ve never heard of FRANZEN you can’t expect to be approached by intelligent men?!? Let me tell you something, buster, Franzen is not Shakespeare, and having “heard” of someone is hardly a test of intelligence. Talk about revealing yourself as someone who reads The New Yorker so you can sound impressive on first dates.

And now I’m not going to name ANY books I’ve read, because I don’t want pretentious faux-literati like yourself emailing me.

  • The six things I could never do without - books, coffee, a bed, sleep, hot showers, meat (I will never be a vegetarian. Speaking of vegetarians, I don’t much want to date one. I have. It’s just– well…god, this is sexist and I’m going to say it anyway– there’s just something not-that-sexy about a man who doesn’t eat meat. Also it’s inconvenient. It’s a food restriction, albeit a fairly mild one, and I just want to eat, dammit.)
  • I spend a lot of time thinking about - gender roles, relationships, language, pop culture and celebrities. Stories. People and what they say and how they act and what it means.
  • On a typical Friday night I am - watching a Netflix movie. Sometimes going out to dinner. Sometimes dancing if I can find anybody to go with me. Oh, screw it, I’m usually in bed by eleven.
  • The most private thing I am willing to admit - is not very private. Anything I say here will be something that everyone knows about me. Why would I possibly reveal an actual secret to the Internet? This is bullshit. If you reveal an actual private thing here, you’re an idiot.
  • You should message me if . . .you’re a book publisher and you have a book deal for me. Or if I already know and like you. Otherwise you should stay the f*ck away, since this isn’t actually an online dating profile.

Hey yo, guys, friends, lovers, sighs

9 Dec

Hey yo, guys, friends, lovers, sighs:

Look, it’s the end of the semester, and I don’t want to brag, but— in the past 16 weeks, I have:

  • DONE A LOT OF THINGS
  • WRITTEN A LOT OF WORDS
  • READ EVEN MORE WORDS
  • AND taught 32 eighteen-year-olds how to put numbers in parentheses before periods (213).  Actually, I’m still not sure if they know how to do this, but fingers crossed!  …They can always YouTube it.

My point is that I need to go lie on the floor in this room for a while:

bookshelfporn.com

while somebody brings me hot tea and crumpets.

….Why do I always turn British at the end of the semester?

Cheerio,

MM

Dear Kindle Readers

9 Aug

Dear Kindle Readers,

How am I supposed to know what you’re reading?  And therefore, how am I supposed to know if you’re smart?  Or shallow?  How am I supposed to strike up a conversation without being able to say, “Oh, I read that”?

(I guess I could try it anyway.  And then try to bullshit my way through it when you say in response: “Oh, really?  You read Everything You Need to Know About Elephants and Your 18th Century British Trading Company?”)

How am I supposed to know if you’re someone I want to date?

I mean, come on, I already can’t see you walking down the street and judge you by the music on your boombox.  Further into our relationship, I can’t walk into your apartment and check out your record collection, or even your cassette tapes, or your cds.

And now I can’t judge you by your book cover?!?  This. is. tragic.  This is a catastrophe for the modern world.

I mean, yes, you probably wouldn’t have spent $189.00 on a digital reading device if you aren’t a so-called “reader.”  And yes, with a Kindle, I too could avoid being judged when I want to read trash in public.  (And sometimes a girl needs to read a little trash. Why else do you think we get haircuts so often and it takes us so long?)

But what about when I’m reading something smart?  How will you know I’m intellectual and hip if you can’t see that I’ve got a sustainable food narrative in my hands?  That I’m scholarly and literary if you can’t see the frayed edges of my well-loved Aeneid?  That I’m sensitive and artistic if Collected Poems isn’t typeset across my book cover?

I mean, seriously, what’s next?  Do I have to judge you based solely on whether or not you have a fixed-gear bicycle? What’s going to happen to all the New Yorker readers when it stops printing hard copies?  Will they have to wear name tags to identify themselves to one another as being fit for cultural conversation?

Will we all stop wearing clothing so I won’t even be able to judge you by the stitching on your jeans pockets???

Say it ain’t so,

MM

Dear Chick Lit vs. Bitch Lit

28 Jul

Dear Chick Lit vs. Bitch Lit,

Why did Publishers Weekly describe Erica Kennedy’s (author of The Feminista Files) new novel Feminista as “The pioneer of chick lit’s naughty stepsister–bitch lit”?  (And why did her publisher decide to slap that above the title on the paperback edition?)

(But. Let me congratulate PW on managing to fit so many terrible connotations into one short phrase!  Pioneer woman!  Doing what no one else has done before!  (That would be: write a book?)  Naughty!  Oooh sexual overtones!  Possibly of the dangerous/forbidden type!  But more likely just vaguely flirtatious without actually being threatening!  Stepsister!  Cinderella!  Disney!  The mean/ugly one!  Who doesn’t get married, doesn’t become a princess, doesn’t get to have birds braid her hair every morning because she isn’t blonde!)

I’m sorry…are Chick Lit and Bitch Lit really our only two options?

I’m not talking about the actual books themselves.  Not their words, not their plots or characters or anything to do with their authors or their literary merit.  I’m talking genre names.  Chick Lit? Bitch Lit?  Those suck.  They not only carry prescriptions for the words, plots, characters.  They say way too much about the authors– or rather, what we think about the authors.  Or the readers.

Ohhh….chicks read chick lit.  And bitches read bitch lit. Ahhh. It all makes sense.  There are 2 types of women: the soft, cuddly, downy kind that coo and are yellow (whoops, too literal, my bad) and the mean, hard, bitchy kind who wears all black and eats men for breakfast and has ulcers from drinking too much coffee and so can’t have children (because babies grow in the stomach, obvi, and there isn’t room in there between the ulcers and all the men she’s eaten).  The world fits into neat little damaging misogynist stereotypes once again.  Oooh this makes me feel comfortable and comforted.

Or: I’m a chick so I read chick lit. Or: I read bitch lit so I’m a bitch.

…wait…that doesn’t seem right…hrmm.

In fact, let me go you one further: why are there any genre names for books by women?

Do we have Dude Lit?  Asshole Lit?  Bro Lit?  Oh wait, no, we just call those books.

GAH,

MM

PS– I’ll be buying Feminista’s new book today and I fully expect to love it (and yes, I linked the novel title above to Amazon, because I want you to read it too).  But I might have to sharpie out the PW quote on the front cover.

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