Have you read a banned book today?

September 27 through October 4 is the American Library Association's Banned Books Week. Over 400 books were challenged and/or banned in 2007! These were the ten most common:

1. And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
2. The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier
3. Olive’s Ocean, by Kevin Henkes
4. The Golden Compass, by Philip Pullman
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
6. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
7. TTYL, by Lauren Myracle
8. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
9. It’s Perfectly Normal, by Robie Harris
10. The Perks of Being A Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky

I like to see which classics are the most challenged, too, since I may end up teaching a few of them someday. In 2007, they were:

1. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
2. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
3. Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
4. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
5. Cancer Ward by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
6. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
7. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
8. Steppenwolf: A Novel by Hermann Hesse
9. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
10. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
11. The Turn of the Screw by Henry James
12. All Quiet on the Western Front
13. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
14. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
15. The Call of the Wild by Jack London
16. Common Sense: and Related Writings (The Bedford Series in History and Culture) by
Thomas Paine
17. The Old Gringo: A Novel by Carlos Fuentes
18. Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift

Some of the challenged classics even made our own list of favorite books! I'm certainly not going to head the local chapter of the J.D. Salinger or Kurt Vonnegut fan clubs, but far be it from me to prevent someone else from reading their works.

I find it so interesting that many of the same people who challenge books also call for less government intervention in their lives. Or, even more disturbing, they pick and choose which parts of the Constitution they're going to cling to. Just try and pry that Second Amendment from their "cold, dead hands," but to heck with that pesky First Amendment.

This week, while you still can, exercise your freedom to read! And click here to find out what else you can do.

I can't be that old

Despite how old I've felt in recent weeks, videos of people falling over and potentially injuring themselves still make me laugh out loud. A middle-aged female coworker sent this to me with the subject line "Middle-aged women should stay at home." Perhaps she's right:

Barley's Nemeses

There are several small critters living on our deck and in the trees behind our house. Barley has a love-hate relationship with all of them. He runs to the back door when we say "squirrel," and he barks like crazy at the cats and larger animals that live back there. Today, we discovered a new nemesis...the dreaded tree frog:

Wordless Wednesday

Better than dead miscellaneous, I suppose:

Vigilante grammar

This time last year, I heard of two men living my dream: Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson were driving around the country, fixing grammatical errors on public signage. Just last week, while Rebecca and I were shopping, I removed a sign from a plastic holder at a register and corrected it. I always keep a pen in my purse for just such an occasion.

So, I was disheartened and saddened to learn that two of my own got in some trouble for their efforts to rid the world of misplaced commas and misspelled words. Granted, the sign they corrected did have some historical merit, but it was still wrong, and it should have been changed. I don't agree with the manner in which they approached this particular error, but I continue to support their efforts, if and when they resume.

I'm how old?!

I know I'm not that old. I'm young, really. Today, I just feel ridiculously old.

I was in line at Costco this afternoon, and an old woman with her even older mother were in front of me. I like to cart snoop, and I saw Ensure, Depends and something else that only old ladies buy. The "young" one realized she forgot something, pointed at me, and said to the older one, "If I'm not back when it's our turn, let this lady go in front of us." This lady?! I'm not a lady! I'm a girl! "Let this girl go in front of us!" "Let this person who doesn't buy Ensure go in front of us!" Then, I looked down and saw Fiber One bars and bean salad in my cart. I am old.

I went next door to the liquor store after that. A kid who didn't look like he was old enough to drink asked if I needed help finding anything. I swear his voice cracked when he pointed me toward the Octoberfests. When it was time to check out, I looked at the sign that says "We card under 30." I reached for my ID, and the prepubescent clerk just looked at me. I am old.

Ordinarily, those things wouldn't bother me too much. But I've been thinking lately about my upcoming birthday. Rebecca says it's the last time I can honestly tell people I'm turning 29. I say, life is slapping a really sticky band-aid on my arm. Just rip it off! Skip this whole 29 thing and let me turn 30 and get it over with already.

Just one more week!

It seems like years since I've seen my favorite show. That's what she said.

My little snugglebug

When I got home from Minnesota earlier this week, I spent a good day or two completely comatose on the couch. On Monday, while Matt was at work, Barley checked in on me periodically, but pretty much went about his usual routine...sleeping in the sunbeam, barking at the squirrels, sleeping on the couch, barking at the squirrels, sleeping in the kitchen...you get the idea.

In the middle of the afternoon, while I enjoyed simultaneously a nap and a classic rerun of Law and Order, Barley trotted down the stairs, walked right to me and put his head on my face. I asked him if he wanted to come up on the couch, and he wagged his tail, then wormed his way up. He burrowed his face next to mine and stretched out to fill the length of the couch next to me. Everything fit except for one of his paws, which he left dangle off the side.

Yes, I spooned with my dog. And, yes, I loved it.

Highlights

I wanted to wait until I could post a photo or two of Anna and Todd's wedding before writing about what a great time it was, but my camera battery charger is somewhere between Maryland and Minnesota. That's a story for another time. For now, here are a few of my personal highlights, all of which include only mental pictures anyway:

• The look on Anna's dad's face during the ceremony. I've never seen emotion like that from him. I was already crying, but his face made me bawl.
• Spending almost a whole morning with the Feyder family! Bel and I played with princess stickers, and Frank followed Rebecca around like her shadow. I made poor Bel give me 100 hugs before I left their house that morning, and I missed her as soon as we left.
  
• Anna's friend, Cameo, walking full-speed into a glass door at our hotel. She made the floor shake. I really wish I had a camera for that one.
• My highlight, by far, was the shopping trip that Rebecca and I took on Friday afternoon. We had a classic conversation about buying new shoes that went something like this:

Rebecca: "Should I get this pair of flats? I'm already getting these boots."
Rachel: "How much are the flats?"
Rebecca: "About $60. But if I buy two pair, I get 25% off both of them."
Rachel: "And how much are the boots?"
Rebecca: "About $120."
Rachel: "Okay, so that's $120 plus $60, which is $180. 25% of that is (five minutes later) $45. Subtract that from $180 and you have (another five minutes pass) just $135. So that's like getting the second pair for just $15!"
Rebecca: "So I'm saving $45?!"
Rachel: "And you're getting super cute flats for just $15! You'd be crazy not to get them."
Rebecca: "Oh, I'm getting them."

On the road again

At some point, Minnesota is going to ask why I even bothered to move. I'm back home again this weekend for the wedding of one of my very favorite people in the whole world: my Annabear.

Congratulations, Anna and Todd! I can't wait to spend this weekend with you guys!

Taking Sides

Matt forwarded me a link to a new-to-me site that lets couples anonymously post their problems, then ask for input on who's right and who's wrong. Wait...maybe this was a hint. Anyway, it's absolutely hilarious and totally addictive. From the boyfriend worried about his girlfriend gaining 10 pounds to the wife whose husband won't let her flush when it's "not yellow enough," I just can't tear myself away.

Even though this is anonymous, I don't think I would ever post to it. I might be tempted if they expand it beyond couple-type problems, or if Matt and I were arguing about something ridiculous, which often happens.

Matt for President!

There are so many reasons why that will never happen. The primary reason, according to NPR, is because my Matt is follically challenged. Never in the history of the United States have we elected a bald man (or woman, I suppose) to our highest office. Yes, Gerald Ford was balding, but he also wasn't elected. In this year of millions of cracks in the glass ceiling, bald men (yes, and women) are still the forgotten minority--cast aside as the unsung heroes in the perpetual fight against discrimination in America. Why, even Vice Presidential candidate Joe Biden, a hero of the "everyman," used to be bald until he abandoned his hairless brethren:

Conversely (and quite fascinating, I might add), Soviets/Russians have a rich history of accepting--nay, uplifting--the hairless among them. In fact, they have a most peculiar pattern, as noted by Steve Jones, head of the Biology Department at University College in London:

Lenin: Bald
Stalin: Hairy
Khrushchev: Bald
Brezhnev: Hairy
Andropov: Bald
Chernenko: Hairy
Gorbachev: Bald
Yeltsin: Hairy
Putin: Bald(ing)
Medvedev: Hairy

So, this must mean that Russia's next president has to be bald. There are a few hurdles in our way, but I see no reason why Matt can't defect to Russia, become a foreign national, and be elected.

Matt for President!

We're Gonna Lose, O's

A few months ago, Matt made the fatal mistake of betting against the Twins. I don't want to say that Matt has officially lost, but this quote about Saturday's game against the Athletics pretty much sums it up:

"When Cabrera walked Kurt Suzuki to load the bases with nobody out in the first inning, one frustrated fan yelled, 'I'll give you a hundred dollars if you don't throw another walk.'

Almost simultaneously, right-hander Alfredo Simon began warming up in the Orioles' bullpen. After Cabrera issued his sixth walk, the pitcher...was finished by the fourth inning."

I don't know what's funnier: the fan's comment or the fact that the writer could hear the fan, because there was no one else cheering...or because there was no one else there.

Any Given Sunday

No, it's not just a movie with foul language and full-frontal male nudity. It never ceases to amaze me how crazy, out-of-the-ordinary things are completely commonplace in Baltimore. For example, I saw these things just this morning:

• A stylish gentleman in a three-piece lavender suit, complete with a plaid jacket. Rebecca tells me that plaid is the new black.
• Pirates swinging from the mast of a pirate ship in the Inner Harbor. I wasn't bothered until a few of the children tried to spray me with Harbor water. They find dead bodies in that water, you know.
• A fabulously flamboyant gay man who insisted that I take 20% off my entire Barnes and Noble purchase, because my APA stylebook was "way too expensive." He scanned it and said, "Oh, no way. Are you serious? That much? For this? No way am I letting you pay that." Jill always says that I'm a gay man trapped in a straight woman's body, so he must have sensed a kindrid spirit.
  
• A rather large woman with a t-shirt that read, "I used to skinny dip. Now I chunky dunk."
  

Just another Sunday in Baltimore.

When bad things happen to good closed captions

Thanks to Matt for forwarding this one to me:

Just your run-of-the-mill shock and trauma

Yes, I subscribe to Baltimore Dog Magazine.

Yes, the subtitle to the story entitled Hospital Drama reads "Shock & Trauma Everyday."

Yes, I've written to the magazine to inform the editors that if shock and trauma is an everyday occurrence for them, perhaps they should be writing about something other than Baltimore dogs.

2009: International Year of Natural Fibers

2009 has been declared the "International Year of Natural Fibers." To celebrate and prepare, here are a few of my favorites, as well as a brief description of each, thanks in part to the folks at the Washington Post:

Hemp (My sister-in-law's personal favorite)
Did you know that the Declaration of Independence was drafted on hemp? Come to D.C., and Matt and I will show you the real thing. The Founding Fathers (probably) weren't smoking anything; they were making use of one of the sturdiest materials around. That same sturdiness applies to hemp textiles. Hemp requires no pesticides to grow and yields three times more fiber per acre than cotton, making it a favorite among hippies and wannabe hippies (like my sister-in-law), as well as hipsters.

Bamboo
According to Eagle Scout Matt, bamboo is perhaps nature's most sustainable resource. He says it grows and grows and grows, all without the help of pesticides. Some bamboo even grows up to four feet per day! I've seen bamboo flooring and furniture, but I'm a bit leery of this next frontier.

Organic Cotton
Cotton ranks second only to corn as the world's most polluting agricultural product (Read Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food for more on the evils of corn). It takes about 1/3 of a pound of chemicals to make just one cotton t-shirt! A lot of people must be equally horrified, because organic cotton sales are projected to skyrocket around the world, from $583 million in 2005 to $2.6 billion by the end of 2008.

Tencel
This one sounds a bit backwards, but tencel is actually a human-made natural fiber. It's created from the cellulose in wood pulp, which is harvested from tree-farmed trees. Just like it's less-environmentally-friendly ancestor, polyester, tencel resists wrinkles and is mainly used to make dresses, pants, coats and some jeans. If this means that a polyester-style pant suit will make a comeback, I'm not sure about tencel.

Best of the Rest
Some of the world's best fabrics have always been natural:
Silk (Thank you, Mr. Silkworm)
Wool (Thank you, Mr. Sheep and Ms. Goat, as well as your distant cousins Mr. Alpaca and Ms. Llama)
Linen (Courtesy of flax)
Ramie (Courtesy of an eponymously named flowering plant)

(Semi-) Wordless Wednesday

Priests are funny, too

I just saw our resident (more or less) priest in the hallway. This was our conversation:

Rachel: "Hi, Father! (Read: I have a hard enough time remembering 600 sisters' names, let alone yours) How are you?"

Priest: "Hm. Sober."

Rachel: "That's too bad. But it's only noon."

Priest: "True, true. So many bars, so little time. Well, I'm off to liturgy."

He was only kind of kidding.

Baking (and eating) bread

Most weekends, my wonderful husband bakes the bread that we eat throughout the upcoming week. He kneads it by hand, tries all sorts of different recipes and even buys special grains from a little organic market down the road. To quote one of my nuns: "Wow. Where did you find him?"

Last weekend, Matt had a bit of help baking tasting his bread. Really, we shouldn't be surprised anymore when Barley counter surfs and eats goodies that we leave out, especially after the way he was eyeing the most recent delectable temptation last night:

A night on the town with a grammarian

We were out at a few Baltimore bars this weekend, surrounded by misplaced apostrophes and other grammatical calamities. I always point them out. Sometimes, I fix them. This time, I documented them, albeit with my poor-quality camera phone:

Who is Martini, and why do you have his $11?

An anytime what? An anytime taxi, apparently.

Does the apostrophe after "til" mean that this place is open 5 tilde 2? It hardly matters, since this appears to be just an ordinary, everyday bar.