Jodi Picoult can bite me.

So, I just finished reading My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. And after I closed the book, I threw it across the room in a fit of rage.

I wasn't angry at the characters or the story. I was angry with the author. I felt betrayed as a reader. BETRAYED!

I don't want to give anything away, but the ending made me want to slap Jodi Picoult around until she changed it to something more satisfying. It doesn't have to be a happy ending--I'm not asking for that. But an ending that doesn't make you feel like the emotions you invested in the previous 400 pages were a waste would be nice.

I haven't seen the movie, but in this case I think that the movie might be better than the book (even though I can't for the life of me picture Cameron Diaz as the mom). I'm sure it ends the same way, but you've only invested an hour and a half at that point. It might be easier to take.

Have any of you read it? Am I just crazy for feeling this way?

So, speaking of Kathy Griffin...

Have you read her book?

You should read her book.

Actually, some of you shouldn't read her book. Sylwia--don't read her book.

If you're offended by swearing (an average of one F-bomb per page), homosexuality (she loves her gays), and think pop culture, Hollywood and reality TV are of the devil (or at least a big waste of time and brain cells) then this book isn't for you.

If you read the first line of the book--"Have you ever looked at the online photos of Britney's peesh?"--and have no idea who Britney is, let alone what a peesh is, you should probably go read Little Women instead.

But, if you're like me (and I know a lot of you are), you'll probably love this book.

First of all, she is hilarious. I wish I had half her wit. Will kept looking at me like I was insane because I kept breaking into fits of hysterical laughter.

Second, it's way more than just funny stories about celebrities she's dealt with, her plastic surgery disasters and her life on the D-list. She spends several chapters talking about some really painful life experiences and how they have molded her into who she is today. I liked her a lot before I read the book, but I finished the book with a whole new level of admiration for her.

On the downside, I'll never look at donuts the same again.

Hungry Like the Wolf

When I was a Latin Club geek in high school, I learned that lupus was the Latin word for wolf.

When I was 32, I learned that it also means fatigue, light sensitivity, achy joints, temporary blindness and kidney failure.

Yup, internets, I have Lupus.

I promise, I wasn't holding out on you--a lot of you already know anyway. And it just never came up. I had a tiny, brief flare up for a few days this summer, but other than that it hasn't reared its ugly head since early 2008.

Until this past Friday.

I knew something was up. I could feel it.

I slept for hours and hours on Friday. My mouth broke out with sores. My lymphnodes were all swollen--even the ones in my legs and arms. On Saturday, my knuckles were so stiff and sore I could barely open my water bottle. And then the headache kicked in.

This mornng I woke up feeling exactly like I did the morning I was admitted to the hospital for an emergency c-section to deliver Amelia due to pre-ecclampsia. I looked in the mirror and my eyes were puffed shut, my ankles were more like cankles. That's how I looked that day, too.

So, I checked my blood pressure--it was sky high. I laid down for awhile and it came down to a still high but non-scary level.

This likely means one thing. The lupus is picking on my kidneys again. That's what it did in 2008, too. That was fun--Will was in Iraq and I ended up in the hospital in stage 3 renal failure. Luckily, some steroids and a single dose of Cytoxan (a chemotherapy drug, yay) got me back to normal with fully functioning kidneys within a few days.

So, although it kind of sucks--O.k., sucks a lot--it's better than what it did to me twice in 2007. In April and August of 2007 it made me mostly blind. But that was before we knew I had lupus, and I was just an annoying mystery to the doctors (those were the days when, no matter what symptoms I went in with, I was pretty much told that there was nothing wrong with me that losing 100 pounds wouldn't cure. That didn't fly for blindness). In about 24 hours I went from 20/20 vision to needing 5X magnification glasses just to see enough to function (I still couldn't read or drive or see if my dishes were clean). Both times it lasted for about 10 days and then my vision returned to normal. Being mostly blind was awful.

Some other fun things that I have that are attributed to lupus:

• Raynaud's Syndrome, which is harmless, but it makes my fingers turn extremely white and then blue when they get cold.
• Extreme sensitivity to sunlight. This has been going on for years, but I just thought I was weird. Bright sunlight is extremely painful to my eyes. I even have nightmares about being in blindingly bright sun and not being able to close my eyes.
• Arthritis in my hands.
• Severe neuropathy in my feet, and now it's beginning in my hands. It had always been attributed to being diabetic, and it likely was from that, but now they think it's continuing to get worse because of the lupus. The same way it attacks my optic nerve making me mostly blind, it attacks my other nerves causing numbness, burning and tingling in my hands and feet. If you ever drop by and see Will or the kids beating the crap out of my feet, legs and arms, don't call the cops. They're doing it at my request (and let me tell you, the kids freakin' love it when mommy asks them to slap her as hard as they can). Oddly, it provides relief from the burning and tingling and pins-and-needles sensations that are constantly there.

So anyway, this isn't a woe-is-me post. I'm not looking for your sympathy. It's just that I tell you guys everything, and this is a big something right now, so I figured you should know.

And remember--if I die, the instructions are HERE and HERE. Don't let me down. For real. If Kathy Griffin doesn't give the eulogy I'll haunt every last one of you, and not in a friendly ghost kind of way.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Hey, fellow BGWers--do you recognize those stairs?

So, I started my morning with a conference with Liam's teacher and the assistant principal. He wasn't in trouble, but they wanted to discuss a few behaviors that they're worried could become problems in the future.

• He's a perfectionist.
  
• He's stubborn.
• He's rigid in his routine and hates having it thrown off.
• He has a melt down (or as his southern-fried teacher says, "pitches a fit and caterwauls") when he doesn't get his way.
• He always thinks he's right and is extremely difficult to convince otherwise.

I don't understand it. I mean, where would he get those traits? I don't know anyone like that. It's a mystery.

Thoughts from the Queen of Randomland

Anyone can be the Mayor of Randomtown. I have higher aspirations.

I. Dear Sarah,
No matter what happens now, you'll always have this:

This is proof that you are still more awesome than the other 99.999% of the population whose brilliant ideas never get a half page write up singing their praises in Better Homes and Freaking Gardens.


II. They were doing drawings at the Y today for customer appreciation. I won this.


Call me crazy, but if your business is running a gym, isn't it counter productive to give away home exercise equipment to your paying members? (And even more ironic, it's made by Gold's Gym.)


III. Lost is starting to piss me off. First of all, NO SAWYER!!! Not even for half a second. I mean, where is he? Last I knew, he was helping Unlocke. Why wasn't he with him at Claire's camp, and why wasn't he with him at the temple? Second of all, I hate that Sayid can't remain good on or off the island, in any timeline or reality. I really just want him to be a good guy, but he's apparently pure evil now. Thirdly, STILL NO REAL ANSWERS! Consider us fighting, Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof. (But on a non-pissed off note, I think Hurley will be the next Jacob.)



IV. This picture pretty much sums up Will's and my relationship.

My side................Will's side.

V. I'm renting 2012 tomorrow. The reviews were awful, which makes me even more excited to see it. Oh, and it has John Cusack. Disaster movie + Ridiculous storyline + Lloyd Dobler = Best Friday night ever.



VI. When I'm at the check out at a store and I see that someone has tried to sign the digital touchpad with a real pen, I want to write down their name (because, you know, it's right there in PEN) and track them down and punch them in the throat.

Call me Linda.

O.K., so about that scary, crazy guy yesterday.

I was running a little later than usual (because Amelia is either about to start her period 8 years early or she's possessed), so I didn't bother to bring my MP3 player--I was only going to have about 20 minutes before my spin class started. That was my first mistake. Apparently it's an invitation for people to chat with you.

So, I was on a machine and the guy next to me struck up a conversation. Have I mentioned that I dislike talking with strangers, especially when I'm trying to exercise? I do. Anyway, here's an approximate transcript of that conversation (stick with it. It may seem boring at the start, but it gets scary and creepy. Trust me.):

Scary, creepy guy (SCG): Well, it looks like I have a workout buddy today!
Me: ...
SCG: So, how long have you been coming here?
Me: About a year.
SCG: That's great! Do you take any classes?
Me: Spinning and Commando Cardio.
SCG: Do you work?
Me: No, I stay home with my kids.
SCG: Oh yeah? How old are they?
Me: (already getting a creepy vibe from this weirdo, so I decided to be deliberately vague) Umm, two in school. One at home.
SCG: Oh, girls or boys?
Me: Some of each.
SCG: Do you see a lot of movies?
Me: (now not only getting a creepy vibe, but also wondering of he's hitting on me) No, my husband and I enjoy hanging out at home.
SCG: What kind of movies do you like?
Me: Comedies, dramas...
SCG: Do you like horror movies?
Me: No, actually I don't.
SCG: I love them. I get such a rush from them. I mean, you get to watch someone kill someone and it's O.K.! You can watch people die but it's alright because it's all just made up! I mean, you can watch people die in a lot of movies, like action movies, but it's different, you know? What I like about horror movies is the fear in the eyes right before they die. And the blood and gore--it's so lifelike. It makes it easier to forget that it's all pretend.
Me: ...
SCG: I think you just need to give the horror genre a chance. Want to come see Shutter Island with me?
Me: No thanks. Like I said, I'm married.
SCG: So. We can go as friends, right? We're friends now.
Me: No, I still don't think it would be a good idea.
SCG: Why won't you go? Are you afraid of me or something? What? Are you afraid I'll rape you? Kidnap you? Kill you?
Me: (Thinking yes to all of the above) No, no. Of course not. It's just not my thing. Sorry. So, I've got to get going now (as I grab my stuff as quickly as possible).
SCG: Hey, I didn't get your name, workout buddy.
Me: I'm Linda.

Seriously, I'm a crazy magnet.

Fresh out of titles.

So, I have a story about a crazy (seriously, he's insane) guy who wouldn't leave me alone at the gym today, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow.

I apparently need to talk about yesterday's post.

I don't know if my tone was unclear, or...I don't know...

I got a lot of e-mails trying to cheer me up, telling me that I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and doggone it, people like me. I got a lot of e-mails telling me I was brave for sharing "such painful memories."

Internets--I was laughing as I typed those stories. I'm laughing now thinking about them. Sure, I suffered some embarrassment as they happened, but we all have embarrassing moments. Some of us just have more than others.

There was no bravery involved in writing about it. It happened, and it was funny (in retrospect) and I thought you might think it was funny, too. Unfortunately, reading about my misfortune just made a lot of you feel uncomfortable. Sorry about that.

I guess I simply don't see any reason to not share that kind of thing. In case you haven't noticed, this isn't one of those blogs where I tell you how perfect my life is and how I'm "seriously, so blessed."

Sure, sometimes it's a blog like that--I'm not opposed to gloating about sharing my successes. But I also try to be as honest as possible here. And the fact is, I totally farted in Wal-Mart and likely traumatized a kid in the process.

I look at a lot of blogs and they seem like they only cover the high points of life. That's great, but I think it does a disservice to your posterity (who, according to you, are the reason you keep a blog in the first place). If you're going to record your life, record all of it. If your child is acting like a demon, blog about it, preferably with pictures and video. I think they'll appreciate that when they're older a lot more than just a list of their accomplishments (not that you should leave out the accomplishments either).

And I think my great grand kids will get a better sense of who I am by reading this blog than some of your great grand kids will ever have of you if you never record a negative, inappropriate, self deprecating or at the end of your rope thought.

O.K., so now I'm rambling and I'm not even sure what my point is anymore. Mainly, I guess I just wanted to say that you shouldn't feel bad for me, because I don't feel bad for me. And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

Anyway--come back tomorrow. I think he was hitting on me but he was just crazy enough that I'm not sure...