Tag: marriage

If No One Ever Marries Me

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weddingday
My faith in marriage has been rocked. Everything I believed in previously is a myth, a lie, a mirage set up to hurt and disappoint and destroy.

What do you do when you marry with the understanding, the trust that what you are doing is forever and suddenly you find out it has been one big, humongous lie? The house with the heavy mortgage is really built out of cards, not love. Suddenly there is a big bad wolf at your door ready to huff and puff and steal your happiness away. Your 9-5 to support your loved ones was a waste of time. Working hard for the failing.

They say hurtful things like I Never Loved You. I Used You. I Have Been Waiting For Someone Else. Someone Else. All This Time. Ten Years Means Nothing To Me. I Will Get The Kids And The House. Mine. All Mine. Head spinning. Heart in a tailspin. Is there any way to pull out of this freefall? Is there a way to snap out of this stunned disbelief and wake from the nightmare?

Friends shake their heads in shock. Didn’t see this coming we all mutter. Who sides with whom? Rumors of the evil kind circulate among the unkind. Cocaine. Cheating. The accusations are so outrageous how could anyone not see it coming? It’s just right there if you know where to look.

Kisa and I look at each other differently. That thing we argued about yesterday seems so petty today. We tiptoe around our relationship like it is a sleeping child. What we once considered a rock is now a wispy, translucent spider’s web. What we once took for granted is back in consideration. We are considerate. Nothing lasts forever.
There was a reason I stood behind my veil and shook like a leaf. There was a reason why I kept him waiting at the alter. Kept him waiting, but didn’t leave him. I waited for the nerves to calm, the strength of love to flood my veins. In light of recent developments I can’t help but be reminded of that day I almost said I don’t.

We say no one saw this coming. Doesn’t matter. We are all in still in shock.
Or are we?

Good Patient

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Duisberg, Kristin Waterfield. The Good Patient. New York: St Martin’s Press, 2003.

I am a sucker for first books. I seriously love that first attempt that gets published; the I-Made-It book. The Good Patient is not only Waterfield’s first book, it’s a great first book. I loved nearly every word of it (and yes, I will get to the “nearly” part of that statement in a moment). But, first the general overhaul:

Darien Gilbertson reminds me of Brenda Leigh Johnson only in the extreme. Like Brenda, Darien is a force to be reckoned with in her professional life. She is successful enough to outshine the big boys. Yet, her personal life is a mess. Despite having a husband who adores her Darien has this insatiable need to self destruct. If she isn’t breaking her own bones, she is cutting and burning herself. She has more than come undone. When her husband forces her to seek professional help Darien is quick to accept, thinking she can do what she’s always done – outwit the therapist and beat the world of psychiatry at its own game. Little does Darien know she has met her match the moment she sits on Dr. Lindholm’s couch. In her own right Dr. Lindholm is a force to be reckoned with. There are times when The Good Patient gets a little extreme, a little over the top but for the most part, I enjoyed Darien’s first person account of how she puts herself back together. Filled with wit, sarcasm, humor and humility, I devoured The Good Patient in an afternoon and has been put on my “read again” list.

Favorite places: Darien taking about her own birth, “Broke my collarbone and tore a hundred-stitch hole in my mother, just to get into the world” (p 4). A quote I think my sister can relate to, “The truth is there’s something wrong with my wiring that makes me smile at the most godawful things, at the most inconvenient times” (p 28). A quote that reminded me of me, “I am suddenly angry in a way I can’t explain, small tidal licks of irritation building under my skin” (p 143).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter, “Shrinks and Shrinkees” (p 221). I would have also included it in More Book Lust in the chapter, “Maiden Voyages” (p 158) because it is a worthy first book (IMHO).

The Letters (with rants)

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Rice, Luanne and Joseph Monninger. The Letters. New York: Bantam, 2008.

Not on any Challenge list. Not a must read from a friend. Not a gift. Not an Early Review book from LibraryThing. Not even something I would ordinarily pick up on my own. Nope. I read The Letters simply because part of it takes place on Monhegan Island. There I said it. I’m a sucker for my island. Put it in print and you have a loyal reader. Such is the case of The Letters.

It’s a creative concept for a storyline: two parents torn apart by the accidental death of their son. The father (Sam) is obsessed with seeing the place where his son (Paul) perished. Driven by that obsession he makes a pilgrimage into the Alaskan wild where his son’s plane crashed. The mother (Hadley) artistic and alcoholic, find herself in equal solitude on Monhegan Island, a tiny (586 acre) island off the coast of Maine that really does exist. These parents are as far away from each other physically as their marriage is spiritually.  Their story consists of letters written on the brink of divorce – volleying blame back and forth. Through these letters, not only does the anguish of losing Paul wring itself out, but histories are revealed. Grief is only a fraction of the bigger picture.

Being a one-time Monheganer I enjoyed Hadley’s letters from the island. I often seek solace on its rocky coastline ten miles out to sea. Her description of Cathedral Woods was dead on. I was disappointed she couldn’t stay 100% true to factual details, though. To my knowledge the island has never been home to squirrels or raccoons and the deer population was annihilated (for lack of a better word) in 1999. I suppose Rice and Monninger to beef up the animal population of the island for added charm. Or something. But, my biggest disappointment came when Hadley fell on the rocks. I don’t think I will be ruining the plot by revealing this, but Monhegan doesn’t have a clinic that someone can just pop into to get ace bandages, ice packs or even aspirin. The island operates on a beautifully orchestrated volunteer system. It’s not as formalized as it used to be thanks to a lack of funding, but when someone is hurt or falls ill on Monhegan there is an urgency felt by everyone. The entire community will band together to bring a fallen tourist, a mid-seizure epileptic, the about-to-give-birth pregnant woman, to safety. I feel Rice and Monninger missed an opportunity to emphasize how similar Sam and Hadley’s rural landscapes really are, despite being at opposite ends of the country. They both fall ill and while their ailments are different the lack of convenient treatment is the same.

Lines that said something: “I hated the drinking because it erased the woman that I loved” (p 35).
“It’s when you start preferring email with a man five miles away to talking to your husband that you know you have a problem” (p 54).
“It shrieks when its not howling” (p56). Talking about Monhegan wind. Amen to that.

And So It Begins…Again

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Every once in a while an opportunity comes along that seems almost too perfect to pass up. They are the moments that grab you by all the attention you have; so much so that you can’t look away.

I was on Face trying to save face. Normally, as my sister can tell you, I fly under the radar on FB. If she catches me “on” she considers it just that…catching me. Then she chats. Most of the time I don’t mind. It’s early morning and no one will notice. But, as a rule I don’t spend more than a minute looking at my own face. I say a few things to other faces and I’m outta there. But, back to the other night. I allowed myself to be “caught” by four different people (none of them being my sister, go figure)…for almost two hours.
When I was finally let go I came away committed. And with that commitment came the profound understanding that not only was I back on the TrainingForSomethingBig bandwagon, but that I was actually happy about it. And what’s more – I was looking forward to every little thing about it.

So, here’s the deal. We are walking for Project Bread. 20 miles. May 3, 2009. You read that right. Walking. 20 miles. I have kisa on the brain when I think about running anything more than five. I see his stern face and his No.Remember.Your.Knee look. It’s a look of concern. It’s a look of caring. But, it’s also an I’ll Kick Your Azz look. He was the one who had to put up with me directly after The Fall.

Duly noted. So we walk.

Snobs

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Fellowes, Julian. Snobs. New York: St. Martin Press, 2004.

This seems like an odd choice for a Christmas season pick. After all, this is supposed to be peace on Earth, goodwill towards men time. With a name like Snobs it doesn’t seem to fit, but this is in honor of one of Nancy Pearl’s gift choices for the holidays.

Edith Lavery is middle class society with big upper class ambitions. When she inadvertently meets the Earl of Broughton, Charles, it is with an admission ticket to tour his home in her hand. Little does she know, but the introduction, with her good looks, is also her ticket to upper echelon snobbery. Soon Edith works her way into the aristocratic family by marrying Charles. As his wife she discovers the high life isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be and finds herself becoming bored. The real trouble begins when Edith’s wandering eye settles on a less than successful actor. Things turn from bad to worse when it’s more than Edith’s eye that starts to wander. What makes this hungry-for-status story so funny is the wicked clashes of culture. Julian Fellowes seductively pokes fun at all types of cliques: actors, the fashion world, the genders, society, but none are funnier than the English.

Sarcastically good lines: “To an outsider it seems a vital ingredient of many marriages that each partner should support the illusions of the other” (p 5).
“…Mrs Lavery was passionately snobbish to a degree verging on insanity…” (p 12).
“Edith rolled her eyes. ‘She’s beside herself. She’s afraid she’ll find Bobby in the shower and it’ll all have been a dream” (p 40).
“At least he seemed to feel that something momentous had taken place, even if her body had never left the station…” (p71).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter, “A Holiday Shopping List” (p 114).

Accidental Tourist ~with spoiler

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Tyler, Anne. The Accidental Tourist. New York: Berkley, 1985.

This was a reread. I couldn’t remember anything about it and rules are rules: if I don’t remember the plot, I don’t remember the main characters or, I don’t remember how it ended I read it again. This one was a cinch. I reread it in a day.

Macon Leary is a man stuck in his ways. He’s so eccentric I almost disliked him in the beginning…until I met his family. They’re all the same way. Macon is the author of unique travel books centered around business travel. The problem is Macon doesn’t like to travel, doesn’t like meeting new people, doesn’t like being in unfamiliar places. Upon separating from his wife Macon’s whole life turns upside down. He learns how to feel emotions, to see the world as if through the eyes of a completely different person. The Accidental Tourist takes you on a journey of awakening and growth.

Lines that hooked me: “Could you really drive a car without reversing?” (p 18). Okay, not the most poetic of lines, but here’s the story: Kisa has a coworker who consistently parks in the turn around instead of using the lot – the huge lot. We used to complain about it until we found out his car couldn’t reverse!
“”She always seemed about to fall over the brink of something” (p 63). Love the imagery!
“Macon got out Miss MacIntosh just for something to pin his mind to” (318). It was at this moment that I knew Macon loved Muriel and would return to her. Don’t ask me why.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter, “Real Characters” (p 197). Incidentally, The Accidental Tourist was made into a movie. I’m thinking if Nancy Pearl ever writes another Lust book she should include books made into movies (worth seeing). I’m betting she would include this one.

Nowhere city

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Lurie, Alison. The Nowhere City. New York: Coward-McCain, 1966.

I just literally put this book down minutes ago. All during the reading I stressed aboult what to say about it. It’s not that I hated it. It’s really enjoyable – a short, fun read. What I didn’t care for were the main characters.

New Englanders Paul and Katherine move to Los Angeles so that Paul can write the history of a rather large (and secretive) corporation. Paul has been hired by them (as a historian) to write this book for them, yet there are all sorts of confidentiality issues. Katherine hates LA. From the moment she arrives her sinuses have been acting up and she hates everything and nearly everyone around her…including her husband. Paul is the polar opposite and in his exuberance for the city and culture, finds himself involved with a local bohemian artist/waitress. Soon, Paul’s new life spins out of control while Katherine has a more gradual, precise metamorphosis. It’s no surprise that in the end it’s Katherine who loves L.A. and Paul who can’t wait to leave. It is hard to drum up sympathy for either character. Right from the start Katherine comes across as overly whiny and Paul is eager to have his first Californication affair. Of course there are movie stars and counter-culture characters that make the rest of the plot lively.

Favorite lines: “She had forgotten handbags, suitcases, packages, contracts, and every imaginable  and unimaginable piece of clothing, in every imaginable and unimaginable place. She had also, at one time or another, misplaced a pregnant police dog, a pink Edsel automobile, and two husbands” (p 24).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter, “Marriage Blues” (p 161).

Amateur Marriage

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Tyler, Anne. The Amateur Marriage: a Novel. New York: Ballantine, 2004.

It’s weird to say I finished this book poolside in Las Vegas, Nevada. Who would have predicted that? Certainly not me.

This is a book I will definitely read again someday. When thinking about this review I wanted to box this story into a corner and call it a sad book, but I couldn’t. It’s such an accurate portrait of how a marriage (and ultimately, a life) can end up that I can’t just call it “sad.” How can I when it’s beautiful, funny, tragic, infuriating, intelligent, frightening and honest all at the same time?
Michael and Pauline are two teenagers whose lives collide at the start of World War II. Their romance is the result of a marriage between a fear of the future and the desire to be someone else at that very instant. Michael wants a girlfriend, any girlfriend. Sensing Pauline’s fascination with the war effort he spontaneously enlists. Pauline wants a soldier for a boyfriend. Any soldier. The culture and uncertainly of the times have thrown these two people together in such a way that neither of them can back out, despite the growing realization they were never meant to be together.
One things leads to another and soon thirty years have gone by. Pauline and Michael divorce and life goes on. And on. While the marriage didn’t survive more than halfway through the novel, Michael and Pauline go on. Their relationship from beginning to end and beyond is captured beautifully.

Favorite quotes: “You know how men are about wearing ties on a Saturday” (p 31).
“I’ve reached the stage where I got so hungry that I’ve gone beyond  hunger” (p 71) …and Kisa didn’t think that was possible!
“Sometimes, Pauline got a feeling like a terrible itch, like a kind of all-over vibration, and she thought that any moment she might jump clear out of her skin” (p 71).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter “Marriage Blues” (p 161). 

Kermit is My CoPilot

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After the run with KermitSometimes I think I appreciate my friends more than I tell them. I love them more I let on. That I know. Today I went shopping with such a friend. She’s the one who loads my arms up with the “try this on” stuff because, as she puts it, “it just might work.” She’s right about most everything. I never did tell her that the fur coat pinched my pits, but she’s right – it was funky. I could have spent all afternoon trying on the suggestions of a friend. I didn’t have one fat moment.
I tell you this because she convinced me I needed Kermit. Kermit, Aerosmith and a sexy dress with sunset colors. But, the bigger news is later that day I ran with Kermit. 5.34 miles in an hour. Yup. One freaking hour. I ran to random and found myself laughing at the more ridiculous moments of the week. One hour is a long time to think about sh!t on a treadmill, especially when you settle in and run at the same pace. With Kermit’s help I came to several conclusions. The best being this: My friend is right. No one, I repeat, no one tells me how to conduct my marriage. No one tells me what is or isn’t appropriate. I’ll let my husband be the judge of what he would or wouldn’t appreciate. I was stupid to be upset. I was stupid to care what someone else thought. Especially that kind of someone.

So, to my friend. Thank you for kicking my mental butt.

14 days until Darfur.

You Didn’t Ask Me

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postsecret.jpg

I know this picture is huge. I wanted it big for a reason. The reason is this: to make the message loud and clear. Some time ago I told a friend this postcard (shamelessly swiped from PostSecret) reminded me of them (grammar be damned, I want to protect the not-so-innocent from scrutiny). Yes, I thought they had something to do with a could-of, should-of relationship. Then, the other other other day someone else admitted to me, “I married the wrong person.” Yikes. What, tell me, what exactly, clued you into the right or wrong of a marriage partner? How do you know that now, and more importantly, did you know that going into the whole “death do you part” deal?
Freak me out. It would kill me to regret any part of the vows I exchanged (and now share) with kisa. I could sigh and say someone else could have been more my speed, more my temperament, more my Me. But, that’s just the way life is…and isn’t. I’m not going to regret something because ultimately, that means regretting someone and that’s not fair. So, I ask again. Did you know you married the wrong person from the very start? If so, why did you do it, let it happen, whatever?
I admit! I play the “what if?” game in my head. That doesn’t mean I’m unhappy with my here and now. I think of old boyfriends and what could have been. I don’t think there’s a person out there who hasn’t done something similar, if not the exact same thing. A kind of WhereAreTheyNow? for ordinary people. I’m sure someone is Googling you right now. If I question my future with my past’s someones here’s what I come up with: a bored housewife with alcoholic tendencies, a military maiden with issues with authority, an atheist marooned at marathon mass every Sunday, a tripped out druggie wondering which sex my husband is having, gay or straight, without me, a overworked mother of three who has to wait through “just nine more holes – just nine more.” None of these are my idea of me.  But, I said yes at the time. Did I know I would be marrying the wrong person? Did I know all these past passings would be considered mistakes? Certainly not. Life just works in a weird, weird way.

A Map of the World

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map of the worldHamilton, Jane. A Map of the World. New York: Anchor Books, 1995.

National bestseller. Oprah book. A movie. All that should tell you something. Normally, I don’t try to read reviews before I myself have read the very last page. This one was a little different. Praise for A Map of the World was on the inside cover and I couldn’t resist. One line really said it all for me, “the story of how a single mistake can forever change the lives of everyone involved.” If you read my blogs you know I am fascinated by the what could have been, fate and serendipity. The path less taken, the path not known to take at all. This is the story of a mistake, an err in judgment, and the time and effort it takes to get back to good.

Told in first person from both Alice & Howard, husband and wife. Alice begins and ends the tale with Howard interjecting in the middle. Details that overlap her story and his tie the couple and their voices together. It’s their marriage talking. Yet, their views on life are very different. There is a moment when Howard is driving by the library and he thinks of the librarian, a man with a hook for one hand. Howard remembers that his wife thinks of the librarian as Captain Hook, not only because of the hook, but because the librarian was supposedly “cranky and unhelpful” to her. Howard recalls learning from the librarian and how he “never even noticed his hand.” Walking down the road of life Alice and Howard see the scenery differently, despite being hand in hand.

Favorite lines:
“I used to think if you fell from grace it was more likely than not the result of one stupendous error, or else an unfortunate accident” (p 3).
“She was all nerve, so energized by rage she had a hard time sorting out what she most hated” (p 291).
“It is one thing to be in a car with someone who is quiet, and another to be with someone who is silent” (p 364).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the chapter “Big Ten Country: The Literary Midwest (Wisconsin)” (p 25). I started reading A Map of the Worldbefore I double-checked what Pearl had to say about it. I had just finished the part about a major tragedy. I have to say it was a shock to read there was another one in store for me. I almost wished I hadn’t known that.

Abbreviating Ernie

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Abbreviating ErnieLefcourt, Peter. Abbreviating Ernie. New York: Villard, 1997.

At first glance this humorous book is just plain cut and dried funny. Okay, bad pun. Read on and you’ll see why. Here’s the surface premise, the tip of the iceburg, of Abbreviating Ernie. Ernie and his wife are having sex. He drops dead of a heart attack. She’s blamed for his death. Here’s the just under the surface details: Ernie likes to dress in his wife clothes while having sex. He also likes to handcuff his wife and he can’t seem to “do the deed” anywhere normal. Long story cut short (there’s that pun again): Wife is found holding an electric carving knife, chained in the kitchen while hubby lies dead on the floor missing his “tommyhawk” as one character put it. All of this happens within the first twenty pages of the book so I found myself wondering what in the world Lefcourt would have say in the remaining 271.
Here’s the rest of the iceburg. Abbreviating Ernie is a commentary on the legal system, mental illness, women’s rights, the sensationalism the media can create, the Hollywoodization of a tragedy (what famous actor will portray the prosecutor?), and the exposure to human nature, often seen as failings. It’s about how warped our society can be when confronted with the dark secrets of suburbia. Yet, it keeps you laughing.

BookLust Twist: Abbreviating Ernie shows up in Pearl’s More Book Lust in the chapter on “Alabama” (p 207). While Abbreviating Ernie doesn’t take place in Alabama Pearl makes mention of Lefcourt’s book because Crazy in Alabama has an electric carving knife in its plot.

Zelda: A biography

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ZeldaMilford, Nancy Winston. Zelda: A biography. New York: Harper & Row, 1970.

I want to be Zelda. Zelda as a young girl, that is. From the time she was a small child and all through her teens she was a strong-will, independent, defiant, do-as-I-like girl. She was wild and free, not confined to WhatWillTheyThinkOfMe thoughts. We do have something, one thing in common, “Zelda did not have the knack for forming close friendships with girls her own age” (p16). I can relate but unlike Zelda, it’s not to say the similarity didn’t cause me considerable angst.

Zelda, as Mrs. F. Scott Fitzgerald, seem to have it all. As a couple, they roamed America and Europe carefree and extravagantly. One of their friends made a prediction, “I do not think the marriage can succeed. Both drinking heavily. Think they will be divorced in 3 years” (p67). Even parenting didn’t slow down the partying. Scottie, their daughter was pawned off on nannies most of the time.
In the summer of 1929 Zelda quietly went mad. “…Zelda sank more deeply into her private world, becoming increasingly remote from Scott and Scottie” (p 155). Her turmoil during a stay in a mental institute is well documented through letters to Scott. It was heartbreaking to read and I decided I didn’t like F. Scott and maybe I didn’t want to be Zelda anymore. But, what I am now is fascinated with Zelda’s life. I want to read her book, Save Me the Waltz. I suppose it will have to wait until after the BLC.

Probably the thing that disturbed me the most about this biography is F. Scott. He blatently took Zelda’s life as subject matter for most, if not all, of his novels. When Zelda tried to do the same thing he became jealous and domineering, demanding she edit certain parts (which she does). It’s as if he is unable to accept the possibility that his wife has talent as a writer. The inequality in their relationship speaks volumes.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust and the chapter “People You Ought to Meet” (p 183). She called the book “compelling” and I would say she forgot to add “tragic” because by the end of Milford’s biography of Zelda I was heartbroken.