Candy on a stick, and books (no stick)

I'm loving these essential quotes from Stephen King via Screen Junkies, especially this:

“My candy of choice is Junior Mints. And while I don’t bring bootleg food into the movies, I do bring bootleg toothpicks. Then, as I relax in my seat, I take a toothpick and poke five or six Junior Mints onto it. It ends the dreaded Chocolate Hand and it’s also kind of fun to eat candy off a stick. I call them Mint-Kebabs.”

This man is BRILLIANT AND INSPIRED. Junior Mints aren't really my bag, but the idea of a STICK of CANDY is a revelation, and I'm ashamed I haven't thought of this already. It's like I don't know who I am or what I stand for anymore.

I also like this:

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that."

Duh, and well-said. I've been reading a tear lately, even more since I got my Kindle. Here are my latest conquests.

I'm about 39 percent done with Water for Elephants (thanks, Kindle, for being so mathematically precise as to my progress!), but I'm loving this book. It feels painstakingly researched and authentic, and it's making me want to revisit the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, not far from where I live. It's also riotously funny in parts, and I wasn't expecting that at all. But I have concerns. I told a friend I was reading it, and her face got all sullen and dark and furrowed and she said, "I know how that ends." And that was it. I'll be bawling into my pizza box for six days, won't I? Wait, don't tell me. Sigh.

Before that, I finished Carl Hiaasen's latest, Star Island.

I also read Miranda's Big Mistake by Jill Mansell. Big Kindle sale!

And Room, by Emma Donoghue. Totally devastating.

After I finish Water for Elephants, I'm downloading the Leftovers by Tom Perrotta. I've been waiting for his next book since the Abstinence Teacher came out four years ago. He just might be my favorite fiction writer. I'm totes ready.

Would love to know what you're reading! And if you get the sullen sad scary face about Water for Elephants, I'll clock you square in the nose. Well, virtually. But it'll still sting.

Broody lyrics all over your face

I have a stomach thing and I'm feeling a little broody today, so allow me the indulgence of posting sullen song lyrics.

Seriously, I'm not the kind of person who likes to post sappy, purple lyrics (unless it's WEEZY F. BABY, KNOWHAMEAN?) or cryptic quotes from dead people (unless it's TUPAC, KNOWHAMEAN?). But the other day, I was listening to this song I've listened to a million times and it just struck me how much I like the lyrics. They don't MEAN anything to me, personally, but I like the pacing and the wordplay and the story of the song. It has kind of complicated lines juxtaposed with simple ones. It's the way all good writing is structured, really. Careful and patient, finished with a punch.

Here are your broody song lyrics from Miz Amy Winehouse (R.I.P). I'm going back under the blankets now. Hold my calls.

It's okay in the day, I'm staying busy
Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder, "Where is he?"
Got so sick of crying, so just lately
When I catch myself I do a 180

I stay up, clean the house, at least I'm not drinking
Run around just so I don't have to think about thinking
That silent sense of content that everyone gets
Just disappears soon as the sun sets

He is fierce in my dreams, seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul
He swims in my eyes by the bed

Pour myself over him
Moon spilling in
And I wake up alone

As far as my heart, I'd rather be restless
The second I stop the sleep catches up and I'm breathless
This ache in my chest as my day is done now
The dark covers me and I cannot run now

My blood running cold, I stand before him
It's all I can do to assure him
When he comes to me, I drip for him tonight
Drowning in me we bathe under blue light

He is fierce in my dreams, seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul
He swims in my eyes by the bed

Pour myself over him
Moon spilling in
And I wake up alone
And I wake up alone
And I wake up alone
And I wake up alone

I exist on carbs and shame

I have to document this before I forget.

You guys, I had the WORST NUTRITION DAY EVER. Worse than the time in high school when I had Lucky Charms followed by Taco Bell followed by Chinese food. Well, maybe. Anyway.

It was Thursday. I was craving a bagel, so I picked up a half-dozen to bring to work because it never feels right buying just one bagel. I ate said bagel about 11 a.m., which was kind of late, so I didn't have lunch after that.

About 3:30 p.m., my body came to the stark realization I hadn't had anything other than a sesame bagel and caffeine all day. I started shaking, getting warm, feeling like I needed to lie down. I checked my desk for something nourishing. Finding nothing, I settled on the partial box of $5 Milk Duds left from when the Scarface movie reel broke down last week at the very special one-time engagement that turned out to be a sham. Interestingly, there were A LOT of Milk Duds in that box, way more than you would think. I guess they all kind of squish together or whatever. Anyway, I ate them ALL, EVERY SINGLE MILK DUD, REALLY FAST, IN MY FACE.

Then, instead of magically feeling better, I felt warmer, and I had to grip my Diet Coke can with two hands to lift it to my dried mouth. It was then I realized I hadn't had a single glass of water all day, just Diet Coke and coffee. So I got a glass of water, which helped a little.

Just when I started to stabilize, I had to leave for a work thing. By this point, my body had entered a state of starvation ketosis, and my tissue was actually feeding on itself. So I ran by Tijuana Flats and picked up two tacos. I ate one in five minutes flat while applying false eyelashes and strapping on high heels and wiggling my ID out of the wallet case to move to a clutch. I discovered a black bean in my grill mere moments before embarking for the event. Nonetheless, I felt very slim and healthy for only eating one taco. I was so proud of myself for my superhuman caloric restraint. Moderation! It's the road to thinness!

Over the next several hours, I had two flutes of champagne, a large Diet Coke and a partial glass of Pinot Grigio. When I returned home, I sat on the couch for a while watching reruns of Hoarders and contemplating the extra taco in the fridge, contrasting the feeling of immediate satisfaction with the long-lasting feeling of thinness I would get by overcoming my temptation in full. Then I ate the taco. This was about midnight. Also, there were some chips in there and I might have had those, too.

So, in summary, on Thursday I ate:

Diet Coke
Coffee
Sesame bagel
67 Milk Duds
One water
One taco
Two flutes champagne
Diet Coke
One partial glass wine
One more taco
Chips
Shame

More in defense of chick lit

Here's a good piece on Metro Pulse about the ever-difficult defense of chick lit, regarding its strongest soldier, Jennifer Weiner. Oh, hey, remember when I met her? Yeah, that was cool.