In case you wondered

Yes, my life currently is a song by The Hold Steady. Nights at the bar now involve nicknames and practical jokes about STDs, twin sister strippers who make out with each other and everyone else, beers poured without asking, boys who fawn over my tattoos, and still no one I'd want to wake up to in the morning finally a boy who calls when he says he will.

He likes the warm feeling but he's tired of all the dehydration.
Most nights were crystal clear but tonite it's like we're stuck between stations
--The Hold Steady

Book: Blue Noon

Midnighters vol. 3--by Scott Westerfeld (2006).

Sometimes I get stuck in a comic book rut. You know, when you read too many comic books all in a row, and then your brain can only think in those picture panels and snippets of dialogue. Happens to me all the time.

I usually start to ache for a novel pretty badly, once I've run through my comic book supply. The problem is, most novels are too long, too stodgy-sounding, too dull for my brain at this point. It also doesn't help if I've been gorging on good tv...

Enter the Midnighters series. These books always come to my rescue in moments like this. I wandered around the library aimlessly a few days ago, until I spotted book number three of this trilogy, and knew it would be perfect for digging my way out of the comic book rut.

This book was just as amazing as the rest of the series, plus bonus points for the ending. These characters absolutely live inside me now. I wish there were more books on the way. I don't want this world to end.

Graphic Novel: Runaways Vol. 2

by Brian K. Vaughan, Adrian Alphona, et al. (2006)

Would you be surprised if I said I breezed through this volume in one morning? I was never a tights and cape kind of girl, but now I'm finding myself strangely addicted to superhero fights and battle cries ("Try not to die"). And this volume left me wanting to know what happens next pretty badly.

Graphic Novel: Pride of Baghdad

by Brian K. Vaughan and Niko Henrichon (2006).

Gorgeous, stunning art. The story is little, I don't know, heavy-handed in its allusions. But it still broke my heart at the end.

Prayers tonight to the hockey gods

Book: New Orleans, Mon Amour

by Andrei Codrescu (2006).

This book collects twenty years of Codrescu's writings on New Orleans, starting in 1985 and taking us all the way up to the present. Only four short pieces focus on the city after Katrina (and they are, I think, the weakest of the bunch).

Codrescu, who contributes every once in a while to NPR, turns a poetic eye on his adopted city, and it suits the myth of NOLA well. Those of us who never saw the city before the big storm will never really know if things were the way he presents them. But it's fun to imagine that they were.

Hottie of the Day

As a joke, at the Thrashers' last regular season game against Tampa Bay, I started yelling at the ice, "Shut up, Lacavalier! Don't be such a hottie!" It might be one of those you-had-to-be-there things, but the phrase has become a common refrain now. Frequent targets include: all the boys on Smallville, Sydney Crosby, our favorite bartender at the pub, and absolutely NO ONE playing for the Rangers.

Tonight's the Thrashers first playoff game. Like first ever. I've got great tickets, friends who are being honored (or laughed at) on the Jumbotron, posters to make, and lots of celebrating to do.

And the target of today's "Don't be such a hottie!" refrain? Kari Lehtonen, of course. Word is he had blue hair at yesterday's practice, but it's gone tonight for the game. Wouldn't want to give Sean Avery anything to make fun of our boys about.

Jenny says I'm fully allowed to start a fight with a Rangers fan after the game. I almost got kicked out of the pub last night for talking trash to the owner, who grew up with the Rangers. Apparently the amount of serious that people think I am is directly proportional to the amount of F-words I use. Got to watch out for that in the future.

Book: Tapping the Dream Tree

by Charles de Lint (2003).

This collection was nowhere near as consistent as Dreams Underfoot, the first book of Newford stories that I read (and loved). Still, de Lint hits a lot of notes that resonate with me. I'd already read the last story presented here, "Seven Wild Sisters" (my library had a copy of the version illustrated by Charles Vess); it's a fun romp through Appalachian storytelling. Plus I love any mention of fiddlers. That's probably why my favorite story out of this book was "Ten for the Devil," which also got bonus points for featuring Robert Johnson.

Really? Hockey again?

Yeah. It's just about the only thing I can concentrate on at the moment. Jenny and I watched the Sabres pretty much help themselves to the Eastern conference title last night--but really we were only tuned in for Sydney Crosby. Well, and Jordan Staal.

Actually we were watching with one eye on the other score listings. Last night could have been great for the Thrashers, but unfortunately Tampa Bay beat Carolina. This means Atlanta can't clinch the division title tonight against Washington.

My guess? It's going to be down to the wire for the Southeast division title. I'd love to see us clinch it before Saturday, but really, I'd also like to see us battle it out with Tampa Bay for that third slot in the playoffs. Those are the kinds of games that go down in history. Those are the kinds of games that cause fights on Marta on the way home.

Unleash the f-ing fury

The big news today is that the Thrashers have clinched the playoffs, thanks to Toronto's loss to the Rangers yesterday.

I've already got tickets to one of the first-round games. I couldn't be more excited.

These last three regular season games are going to be a big deal--the division title is still up in the air, with Tampa Bay only three points behind us at the moment.

What a freaking awesome first season to be a fan.

Book: This Is Not Chick Lit

edited by Elizabeth Merrick (2006).

Pretty good on the whole, though I outright skipped some stories in the second half.

Favorites:
"Documents of Passion Love" by Carolyn Ferrell
"Joan, Jeanne, La Pucelle, Maid of Orleans" by Judy Budnitz
"An Open Letter to Doctor X" by Francine Prose
"Selling the General" by Jennifer Egan
"The Epiphany Branch" by Mary Gordon
"The Seventy-two Ounce Steak Challenge" by Dika Lam

Book: Special Topics in Calamity Physics

by Marisha Pessl (2006).

This might go on record as my favorite book read in 2007. I plowed through its 500+ pages in three days, sneaking in time to read during lunch, when I should have been asleep, even while I was at work.

There are few things I love more than a good mystery, with a wise-beyond-her-years girl detective ferreting out clues and piecing together theories (see Veronica Mars, seasons 1 and 2). Add to that copious literary and film references, a sometimes hysterical send-up of academia, and tiny mentions of towns I've been to (or been near), and you have a book I'm practically guaranteed to love.

It's funny to me that I keep finding books with these elements, reading and loving them (see King Dork, Frank Portman; Him Her Him Again The End of Him, Patricia Marx). Is there something in the water right now?

Anyway, I fully recommend this book, and I can't wait to see what Pessl comes out with next.

***

Number of books I've read from Blue's "Required Reading" list: 8 (out of 36)

Percentage of references I understood: 85 (rough estimate)

Date of Bookslut interview with Marisha Pessl, which contains a few spoilers, so be careful: September 2006

Official book website's coolness points: 10 (out of 10)

Poem of the day

Barbara Hamby's "Ode to My Wasted Youth" (4th one down). The others on the page are good too.

Book: A Curtain of Green and Other Stories

by Eudora Welty (1941).

A truly great collection of short stories by one of my new favorite writers. I'm on this whole Southern lit kick right now, and Miss Eudora is the queen of my world. I honestly can't believe she wasn't taught in any of the writing classes I've taken.

Her stories are intensely Southern in this great tway--a tonal quality that made my whole body slow down while reading them. They're funny and sad, usually at the same time, and obsessed with ruin, despair, the slow rot that happens here in the land of infernal heatwaves. "Why I Live at the P.O." is a classic, of course. Other favorites of mine included "The Petrified Man," "Death of Traveling Salesman" (her first published story), "A Piece of News," and "A Worn Path," along with a bunch of others whose titles I can't remember off the top of my head. Every story in this collection, really.

Hiking at Sweetwater Creek

Record hot day yesterday, and of course I had already decided to go hiking out at Sweetwater Creek. What I thought was a sunburn by the time I got home turned out to be nothing more than a flush from the extreme heat.

But everything about the day and the place was beautiful. The creek is more like a river, with rocky shoals that cause the water to rush and divert into pools and side streams. I assume it's granite under the water--there's a very large vein that runs through Atlanta--but I'm not entirely sure.

The highlight of the hike, of course, was the Civil War era ruins of the New Manchester Manufacturing Company. During the war, this mill was one of the two largest suppliers of textiles to the Confederate forces in the area (the other mill was on Vickery Creek, and its ruins still stand as well). When Union troops marched on Atlanta, they arrested the workers at both mills and imprisoned them, then burned the mills. Of course, since most men of working age were fighting in the war, this meant the women and children were working the mills. The prisoners were taken north, made to pledge allegiance to the United States and promise not to return to the South until the war was over. If they refused, they remained imprisoned for the rest of the war. Amazingly enough, historical sources report that most of the workers made it back to Georgia after the war.

Book: Best of the Oxford American

edited by Marc Smirnoff (2002).

I love OA so much it's unreal. When I was in Arkansas, I visited the campus of UA in Conway, where it's published, and I had to physically restrain myself from storming the offices and professing my love for everyone there. Sometimes I actually wish I lived closer to Arkansas, so I could go to the events they put on and whatnot.

This book did not disappoint. It includes a few selections of the best writing from a broad range of sections: fiction, poetry, music, religion, eats, book views, first person, etc. All of the articles were interesting, even if I had no idea who or what they were about. I especially loved Barry Hannah piece from the religion section, and Rosanne Cash's first person article. Seriously, who knew Rosanne Cash could write so well?

Also completely awesome are the three previously unpublished stories by more famous Southern authors: William Faulkner, Zora Neale Hurston, and Walker Percy.

I think the only piece in the whole book I didn't like, and we all knew I wouldn't no matter what, was the stupid poem by John Updike. I won't even type what it's about. It's disgraceful.

Flowering trees everywhere

Did I mention it's spring in the South? Seriously, I never remembering loving Florida springs like I am loving this one. Today on the way home from lunch, my boss and I identified all the flowering trees that we could. Atlanta is thick with them!

The cherry trees are probably my favorites of the moment, but only because the Bradford pear trees are a few days past the all white stage, heading into the green stage. It happens so fast. I barely had time to get a picture before the leafs started unfurling. The tulip magnolias are also a few days past their spring prime--the flower petals are starting to drop off in earnest--but I love them because blossoms always sit upright, like teacups. The dogwoods have only just started to flower. I'm sure in the next month they'll look even more beautiful as they fill out, while the cherry trees snow all over the place.

The last cold snap

This past week has been the last cold snap we'll likely have before spring begins in earnest. March always teases us in Georgia with a handful of 72 degree days in a row, before dropping back down into what we here consider "cold." From here on out, it should be 75 degrees right up until the day it jumps to 90 with no warning.

Yesterday I couldn't stand to stay inside when the sun was shining so brightly, but the air had too much bite for me to want to walk. So I split the difference and went for a long drive instead. All the way up to Dahlonega, to where the Chestatee River follows the roads, rushing over rocks and looking so tempting. I couldn't help a big grin from breaking out when I saw those first Appalachian mountains rise in the distance. From certain points on the road, they spread out all around, all the way out to my periphery.

And then I turned right around in the Dahlonega town square, stereo turned up, singing my way back down the foothills and into the north edge of the city. Back into my basement apartment, with the back deck I can sit on and read, provided I have on a thick enough sweater, with the dozens of books to read, taxes to do, journal entries to write.

Miss Eudora

Exploring Southern Literary Journals

Like Hattiesburg, Mississippi hasn't surprised me enough, today I discovered that they publish The Mississippi Review, which has some pretty good online content.

Black Warrior Review has less stuff online, but I'm partial to anything artistic coming out of Alabama. I'd like to see if someplace like Borders or the library carries this, so I could sit and read through it.

Also, storySouth has a bunch of stuff posted that I'd like to read.

And, in the most exciting news of the day, I finally treated myself to a subscription of The Oxford American.