The Jane Austen Experiment

Optimism

2012-01-04T08:08:00.000-08:00

I repainted my bedroom. Love it. I added this section of vinyl lettering (which is not slanted, in spite of what the weird photo shows) because I just like it so much.

This is not an announcement. It's just optimism.

Let Your Past Make You Better, Not Bitter

2011-12-13T07:58:00.000-08:00

The dating world as a twenty-something (ahem) divorced woman is rather significantly different than I remember it being at age 18. A key difference is that now nearly everyone out there has a buttload of baggage and emotional scars up the wazoo. Some of the scars are more obvious--four previous divorces, a criminal history, still living with his mama... And some of the scars are less obvious but nonetheless real.

This shouldn't surprise anyone. Life beats us all up. To some extent, scars are evidence that we've actually LIVED, that we didn't just sit on the sidelines and watch things happen; we jumped in and really engaged with life in all its bloody, messy glory.

The problem is, too many people define themselves by their scars. They are still wallowing in past heartbreaks or nursing old grudges or proudly wearing their martyred hearts on their sleeves so all the world can see just how badly they've been mistreated by life. It goes without saying that it's not terribly attractive, in terms of the dating game. Beyond basic attraction, though, it's a big, huge red flag for a long term relationship.

Let me put it bluntly--

There are very, very few absolute dealbreakers for me about your past. There are things that definitely raise question marks, and there are things that will certainly remind me to take my time and be wise. However, even the worst stories sometimes have reasonable explanations, and sometimes, to be cliche, bad things happen to good people, so I generally avoid passing automatic judgment until I have enough information to decide whether this relationship--and you--are good for me or not.

I am much, much less interested in what wrongs were done in your past, by you or to you by someone else. I'm much more interested in what you've done with them. I'm interested in all the ways that you have overcome, forgiven, picked yourself back up, and moved forward. Courage, compassion, wisdom, strength, understanding--these are all priceless mementos from a spotted past. Refining of virtues is extremely attractive.

Even more, it gives me a good sense for how you'll handle the hits that life will throw us, should we decide to share our lives together.

I'm not interested in sharing my life with a victim, a martyr, a bully, a whiner, or a self-righteous prig. I'm not looking for perfect--I've got scars of my own. I'm hoping for someone who likes being better, who chooses to learn from the past without being defined by it. I prefer happiness. I'd like to be with someone who shares that choice.

Someone (Not) Like You

2011-11-09T21:01:00.000-08:00

Okay, I admit--I'm a huge Adele fan. Love the voice, love the face, love the writing talent, love the unique & genre-bending music.

But lately a few too many friends have been loving on this song, and I've just got to quibble with the message.

"Never mind, I'll find someone like you..."

Seriously???

Girls (and guys)--here's the deal: when a relationship ends, THERE IS A REASON! Sometimes you don't know what the reason is, sometimes you know and it sucks, sometimes you are the reason, sometimes it's complicated, and sometimes it's painfully simple. But the reality is, whether you like it or not, there is a reason that things don't work out.

If the best you can hope for is to find someone else just like the person who broke your heart, you are in sad, sad shape and I'm not sure that anything I can say will get through to you.

Let's take a best case scenario and assume that Mr. Perfect is absolutely EVERYTHING you ever wanted in a guy. I mean, EVERYTHING. You would marry him and have his babies in a heartbeat. You wouldn't mind his sweaty socks on the floor and his toothpaste in the sink and you would gladly devote the rest of your life to offering slavish love and adoration because if anyone on earth deserves it, he does. The only teeny problem is that, for whatever reason, Mr. Perfect doesn't feel that you are Ms. Perfect-for-Him.

It is fine and absolutely healthy to say that you want to find someone very much like him, with all of his good and wonderful attributes that attracted you in the first place. But for your own sake, and that of those who love you, put an addendum on there that he has to be all that AND totally head over heels in love with you.

Even better, be open to meeting someone who is even more incredible and more perfect for you than Mr. Almost-Perfect was. Tell yourself--and really believe it--that things didn't work out because something even better is waiting around the corner.

I have been fantastically blessed in my life to know many, many extraordinary men. I've been blessed to date many extraordinary men, casually and seriously, for varying lengths of time. I've been blessed to know great men as friends, to enjoy working with good men as professional colleagues, and heck, I'll admit it--sometimes to crush on fabulous men from afar :). I totally get pointing to someone awesome and thinking, "that's what I want," whether it's one particular trait that really jumps out at you, or the whole package deal.

With any relationship, no matter how casual or intense, my constant prayer is that it will be for good. I know that I can't completely avoid the messiness and sometimes pain that come when expectations don't match up or feelings aren't reciprocated. I also know, thanks to all those extraordinary men I've known, that I can always come away a better person for knowing them. I can always come away with a better sense of what I truly want in a relationship...and in rare instances, a better sense of what I don't.

I can honestly say that I've never walked away from any relationship--whether I was the one ending it or the one being dumped--and thought, "Now if I could only find someone just like him..." Even the very best of them.

I'd hate to think that anyone was ever pursuing me because I reminded them of a previous love interest. Gah! I'm just self-centered enough to want to be loved and appreciated for my own sake, thank you very much. I'm assuming that guys feel the same way. I don't mind in the slightest if someone tells me that I'm very kindhearted, just like their favorite ex-girlfriend, or that my laugh reminds them of the girl they crushed on in sixth grade. Those are safe, innocent comparisons when kept in context. But if the sole aim is find someone like a near-mythical part of their past, I'll pass.

With all due respect--and great affection--for the men in my own past, this is why I hope to find Someone-Rather-Similar-But-Not-Quite-Like-You. Because, let's face it--things with us didn't have a happy ending, and eventually, I'd really like to be with someone who can create that happy ending with me.

Planning for that bright day sure as heck beats sitting around whining about finding someone like you.

Word to the Wise

2011-10-03T19:08:00.000-07:00

When you are interested in going out with a single mom of young children, your chances drop drastically when you criticize her children's behavior, followed later by comments about how they need someone to "straighten them out."

While you might have convinced yourself that your motives are purely altruistic and kind, what you are really saying is 1.) she's a bad mother, 2.) she is incapable of rearing them, 3.) their perfectly normal child behavior is a problem for you because you don't know a dang thing about kids, and 4.) you trust your judgment on the matter far more than you trust hers--which is slightly odd, given that she's known the kids a heck of a lot longer than you.

Trust me, there won't be a first date, because she's already seen how this one will play itself out.

And on the odd chance that a single mom happens to pop by here, and has been seduced by this asinine line, and is feeling flattered that a guy cares enough about her and her kids to help shoulder the load and "straighten them out," I am tempted to say that you get exactly what you deserve for being such a moron...but your kids do not. Do all of you a favor and get out while the getting's good.

#whyiamstayinghomethisweekend

I Found My Man!

2011-09-22T07:31:00.001-07:00

Meet Benedict Cumberbatch, my new celebrity boyfriend. Move over, Hugh Jackman; this guy is actually available (until he meets me...).

He might possibly be the most brilliant actor ever. Serious, serious genius. He deserves to be far better known for his impressive body of work. I cannot remember the last time I laughed out loud in sheer delight over the absolute perfection that an actor brought to a character. "Brilliant" doesn't do it justice, but I can't think of a better word. Brains and talent are so irresistibly sexy.

Five minutes with my bff Google elicited the following: he is single & available, after recently ending a 12-year relationship (See??? This could actually happen!). He wants kids, preferably soon (Ah, Bennie, my man, I have the four most adorable kiddos on the planet! Insta-family for you. Our love was practically written in the stars. We can be the next Brangelina). He was recently named the GQ Best Dressed Actor of the Year (Mmmm....this could be a problem. As anyone who knows me IRL knows, the only chance I stand of winning a Best Dressed contest is if the other contestants are bovine, and even then, it's iffy. Wonder how he feels about being the better dressed partner in our relationship?)

Ah, wuv. True wuv.

Quit snickering--it could really happen! ;)

Top 10 Most Romantic Songs EVER, Plus A Few More

2011-05-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

10.) Groovy Kind of Love, by Phil Collins. Maybe it's the tempo. Maybe it's Phil Collins' mellow voice. Maybe it's the improbable lyrics that somehow work anyway. This song just makes me melt.

9.) Rhapsody on a Theme by Pagannini: Opus 43, variation 18, by Sergei Rachmaninoff. Even without that classic romantic film "Somewhere in Time," this piece would still be at the top of the charts for romance. Jane Seymour & Christopher Reeve just bump the wistful, yearning, bated breath factor up a notch.

Honorable Mention: You Are My Home, written by Frank Wildhorn, performed by Linda Eder, from "The Scarlet Pimpernel." Take out the fact that it's a brother-sister duet, and you've got a perfect romantic Broadway song.

8.) Nessun Dorma, from Puccini's "Turandot", performed by the incomparable Andrea Bocelli (who makes this list TWICE, might I add). I don't know what it is about Puccini + Bocelli, but it just makes everything right with the world.

7.) Nobody Does It Better, by Carly Simon. This song gets bonus points for summing everything up perfectly & succinctly. It's exactly the way you want to feel about that special someone.

Honorable Mention: Look Heart, No Hands, by Randy Travis. You knew I'd sneak some country music in here. Along with John Michael Montgomery's Home to You, this is one of my favorite ballads. I'm a sucker for Randy Travis' voice, and I like the imagery of this song, plain & unpretentious as it may be.

6.) All of My Life, by Barbra Streisand, from the movie "The Mirror Has Two Faces." Not actually in the movie, this little gem is hidden in the credits. I just like it, that's all.

5.) Reaching back to my trailer trash roots, Shania Twain ties with The Woman in Me, and You've Got a Way. Hokey, not too high on brain power, riddled with cheap cliches...and I can listen to them over and over and over and over and over and over...

Honorable Mention: Five for Fighting's 100 Years. I can't decide if this is actually a romantic song, but I like it, and I'm choosing to read it romantically, so there you have it.

4.) Can't Help Falling In Love, the Elvis Presley piece, performed by Andrea Bocelli. Seriously, what is it about Bocelli's voice??? And there is something about this simple little tune, with simple little lyrics, that just makes me smile.

3.) Lady, by Kenny Rogers. I am so embarrassed to list this one. Especially toward the top of my list. Believe me, I didn't want to do it. It first hit my top ten list when I was about 14, and it's just been stuck there. But Kenny Rogers is soooooo icky! I went back & reviewed it several times, trying to convince myself that his general nastiness ruins the song. I couldn't do it. Even knowing he's a blecky old perv, and even though this might be the only Kenny Rogers' song I can stomach, it still just gets me every time. Hanging my head in shame now...

Honorable Mention: In a tie for the most upbeat, toe-tapping romantic songs, Waterloo by ABBA, and Run to You, by Lady Antebellum. Lady A makes me smile; Waterloo makes me laugh out loud. Warm fuzzies all the way around.

2.) Anne's Theme, from Anne of Green Gables, composed by Hagood Hardy. I love this song. Did you get that? I LOVE this song. I so love this song. Who needs a man--I could fall in love with this song. Everything good in the world is wrapped up in the song.

Honorable Mention: (have to sneak one more in!) Unchained Melody, by the Righteous Brothers. This song just screams--if scream is the right term--candlelit dinners and walks in the rain.

1.) Unexpected Song, by Andrew Lloyd Webber, performed by Bernadette Peters (though the Sarah Brightman version isn't too bad, either). It's really a toss-up which song gets to be number one, but I'm going to go with this one. It just seems to nail the wonder & magic of falling in love and finding that person you never thought you'd find.

What about you? What are your top romantic songs?

Something That Makes Me Sad

2011-05-17T21:01:00.000-07:00

While it's probably not huge in the minds of other people, I'm always conscious of that big 'ol red letter stamped on my chest identifying me as one THOSE people. One of those people whose stroll down the aisle of wedded bliss somehow derailed into a painful mess that eventually ended up painful enough and messy enough that only divorce could offer a chance for cleanup and healing.

So, understandably, I am extremely reluctant to offer marital advice in any way, shape, or form. Don't get me wrong--there are times when I think married people should listen long and hard to those of us who have survived spectacular marital implosions. Nothing like a wreck victim to scare you into following the speed limit and wearing a seatbelt. But, cautious of how it will be perceived, and sensitive to the fact that no one, sometimes not even the two people involved, ever really know the heart of another's marriage, I generally refrain from advice.

Today I am breaking my rule.

I'm not so much offering advice as I'm begging all you married people out there to do me one little favor. Pleading with you, even.

Be nice.

That's all. Just be nice to each other. Especially in the way you talk to each other and about each other.

This is not hypocritical advice. Regardless of what went wrong in my marriage, one thing that went right is that we were polite. We still are. Believe me, the gloves are off, neither of us has any vested interest in maintaining more than cool civility, but we most definitely do have that. One friend calls us the most civilized divorced couple she knows.

That breaks my heart. Our no-frills generic politeness should be the norm, not the high end. But I know what she means. I assume you do, too. Divorced couples aren't generally known for their positive relations.

Speaking to those of you who are married, whether happily, miserably, or somewhere in between: when I hear you call your spouse names, belittle him, make fun of her, give sarcastic or unfeeling responses to innocent questions--something in me just curls up and dies. And I'm not even the target of the comments.

Words have power. Words, especially words that are repeated over and over, for long periods of time, can wound souls and damage relationships beyond repair. It's not just a joke, it's not just kidding, and it's not just harmless fun. It's not okay when you're really, really frustrated, or when it's really, really justified.

There was a point when I felt like calling my ex-husband every scummy, horrible, rotten word I'd ever heard. There were times I could have unleashed the full fury of my carefully honed sarcasm and extensive vocabulary to make him feel just as lousy as words could do, to drive my point home with total precision about just how I viewed him and what our marriage had become. Don't think I wasn't tempted.

But in those darkest days of our marriage ripping apart, I realized that it really wasn't about him at all. It was about me. It didn't matter if he truly WAS the epitome of every bad thing I thought. It didn't matter if he fully, 100% deserved whatever I shot his way. The real issue was whether I was the kind of person who resorted to name calling, insults, yelling, mocking, and verbal abuse.

I decided that I wasn't.

I'm not polishing my halo here. I'm sharing this because a.) if I could bite my tongue under extreme duress and in circumstances serious enough to warrant divorce, you can keep your lips clamped when he forgets to pick up milk or she gets yet another speeding ticket, and b.) I'm daring you to do the same. I'm daring you, right now, to decide that you are not that person. You are not a whiny, screechy, bitchy, naggy spouse.

In a perfect world, the closest, most supportive relationship we each enjoy would be with our spouse. In a perfect world, we would hear nothing but kindness, love, and gentleness from that person. I realize that may be asking for too much.

So, how about just following the old adage that if you can't anything nice, don't say anything at all.

Don't recite a list of your husband's faults to your visiting teachers. Don't make fun of the way your wife speaks or dresses or dances. Don't speak to your husband like he's a child--an especially slow, intellectually stunted child. Don't lash out and shout at your wife over really small things that don't matter. Or big things, for that matter. Don't make snide comments implying that she's not smart enough to catch your clever humor. Don't use sarcasm to address issues with him that should be brought out openly and objectively.

Be nice.

Regardless of what your spouse does, or how much he or she does or doesn't deserve it, be nice anyway.

Regardless of how you were brought up, and what patterns you observed, and what habits you've created in your own marriage, be nice anyway.

Regardless of how funny it is and how much your spouse doesn't mind your humor, be nice anyway.

"Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren [and sisters!], these things ought not so to be." --James 3:10

I can't say it any better myself.

Be nice.

Please.

The Update Which Is More of a DOWN-Date

2011-05-15T14:09:00.001-07:00

On the Uber-Fabulous Dating Contest:

Nothing.

Nadda.

Zip.

As in, not a single one of you came through with a man. Even those of you who swore, prior to my posting the contest, that you'd set things up with every barely-legal-age or possibly-gay-but-who-can-tell man you knew.

I've gotta say, I do better on my own. And that's saying something, because available, non-creepy men are nearly as rare as Hailey's Comet. Yet once in a blue moon they do turn up, which is better than the JA Dating Challenge did, where never in a blue moon did anyone turn up.

I do have to give Michelle props for at least trying. It wasn't her fault that every guy she found had a criminal record and/or was on a sex offender registry. At least she tried.

Anyway, that's the update, which needed to get out of the way so that I could move on to bigger and better things that I've been postponing posting because I knew I needed to follow-up on the burning question you all had as to whether Mr. Hottie showed up in the JA Dating Challenge.

That would be a no.

Onward and upward to bigger & better things!

Stay tuned...

Let's Get This Party Started!

2011-01-04T20:09:00.000-08:00

Win a fabulous romantic getaway, compliments of The Jane Austen Experiment!

The downside of dating during the middle years of life is that a potentially fun activity like dating becomes more like ongoing mutual job interviews, a two-sided dance of scoping each other out as a) prospective life/financial/spiritual/house/intellectual partners, b) potential stepparent material, c) potential bed (sex--let's face it, that's what it really is)mates, and d) potential ex-spouses. That last one is only when I'm feeling cynical.

This has got to change. I've just got to have more FUN with this dating thing.

Therefore, I am sooooo thrilled to announce a new Jane Austen blogger contest, with fabulous prizes (thanks to wonderful sponsors).

It's called the Who-Can-Set-Wendy-Up-On-The-Most-Fun-Date Contest, and here's how it works:

I will go on 15 dates arranged by YOU.

I will blog about each and every one of these dates. After the 15th one, YOU, my wonderful blog readers, will vote on the top 5 most fun dates, as portrayed in my blog posts.

From the top 5, I will select a third, second, and first place winner who will win 3) a $25 Bath & BodyWorks gift card, 2) a $50 Lowe's gift card, and 1) a two-night stay at Somewhere Inn Time Bed & Breakfast + a $50 gift certificate to La Jolla Groves restaurant. How fun is that???

Just to be clear, the winner is the person who arranged the date, NOT the guy who went on the date. He already gets the prize of a date with me :).

Set me up with someone you think will be FUN. The dates will be judged purely by how fun they are. Don't knock yourself out trying to find someone compatible. This is not about finding my soulmate; this is about having a great time.

The fine print:

Each person may only arrange up to 3 dates.
Preference will be given to people who are directly known to me in real life (i.e., I trust your arranged date more if you are my long-term friend/acquaintance/relative.
All prospective dates must be male, heterosexual, between the ages of 18-65, legally single (all divorces final and deceased spouses 100% completely deceased), and free from any criminal record.
I reserve the right to decide which dates are accepted and refrain from posting about a specific date for any reason.
Each date must sign a consent form allowing me to post pictures on my blog and acknowledging that the date experience will be written, posted publicly, and judged online.
Each date may designate a pseudonym in order to maintain privacy, if desired.
These are traditional gender role dates. He plans & pays for the date. I show up, be pretty, and have fun. As a side note, some of the very most fun dates I've ever been on have been extremely low budget. Creativity and a sense of humor are worth far more than an upscale restaurant.
I reserve the right to substitute prizes of equal value in the unlikely event that something unforeseen occurs.
Dates will be arranged as convenient within my schedule and that of each prospective date, with no guarantee of the 15 designated dates happening within a certain time period. They will also be arranged in any order I choose.

To enter, get the guy on board FIRST, then email janeaustenblog@gmail.com with details on the prospective date and YOUR contact information. I"ll be in touch.

Book Recommendations, Anyone?

2010-12-16T17:30:00.000-08:00

I have ideas on new directions for The Jane Austen Experiment, but first things first: I need to read Persuasion and Mansfield Park, and that is my plan for the holiday break.

However, that is not enough fun for two weeks.

Any recommendations for some light reading?

Wuv, Troo Wuv

2010-11-05T18:56:00.000-07:00

Last night Eric brought me a sheet of notebook paper that he, my thoroughly male, camo & cars & sticks & grubby hands child, who loathes writing with a passion, had created all by himself. It had two small stick figures with large heads holding hands and was titled "EricKaiet", which turned out to be his attempt at spelling "Eric and Katie."

He only went to bed after I promised that I would find an envelope for his love letter before morning.

This morning a 5-year old boy-child climbed on me around 6am.

"MOM!!! MOOOOOMMMMM!!!! Did you get the envelope?"

I pointed to the table where his declaration of love was wrapped securely in an envelope.

"Well, could you help me write some more in it before school?"

So, when Eric trotted off to kindergarten, he was carrying the letter as described, with the addition of "Dear Katie, I love you. You're cute. And I like your yellow hair. Love, Eric."

When we got home I asked how his romancing had gone.

"UGGGHHHH!!!! I didn't give it to her!"

Was she at school today? Did you see her?

"Yes, but I just didn't give it to her."

Why?

"Because I was so embarrassed!!!! She's too cute and I was embarrassed. She's BLOND, mom."

Huge 5-year old sigh.

"I hope she'll marry me. I love yellow hair."

You'll have to get brave and give her the letter if you're thinking marriage, son.

"But she's BLOND!!! I'm scared!!!!!"

So many things I want to say to that....

The Swinging Single Life

2010-09-05T21:42:00.001-07:00

When I was going through my divorce, and occasionally since then, well-intentioned friends have commented that the silver lining to it all is "getting" to experience dating again. They'd wax rhapsodic about the excitement and giddiness of going through those initial falling-in-like moments that come in the early stages of a relationship.

I didn't know what to say at the time. I thought they were nuts, but that didn't seem very polite. Plus, I was the newly-divorced one--what did I know about relationships?

Well, it's been a couple years and counting, and I would like to say what I've been wanting to say all along:

Dating sucks.

Marriage is way better. Dating is a necessary evil to get to that point. It has its enjoyable moments. Yes, the thrill of early 'falling-in-like' is fun. But marriage is so much better.

It's like shopping for the perfect couch. For most of us, the perfect couch isn't going to just fall into our laps. We've got to do the work--research the options, get out and visit the stores and try them out, carefully think through what we want most and how much we're willing to pay. But the entire purpose to it all is that at SOME point, we choose one, pay the price, and take it home. And that's when the real fun begins. That's when we start enjoying the couch.

Yes, dating as shopping is a very flawed metaphor. I only use it to make a point.

Maybe I should just say exactly what I want to say, which is this: those of you who are fortunate enough to have nice, normal, relatively happy marriages are BLESSED. If you don't get those little butterflies when he walks into the room anymore, well, I can think of worse things. Things like missing your kids like crazy because they are spending the weekend with their dad again and the house is far too quiet. Things like making up one more chore to do so you don't have to face an empty bed for as long. Facing every home repair--every clogged toilet and broken sink and non-functioning heater--alone. Giving up on cooking because there's no one to cook for. The swinging single life is a lonely life.

I'm not saying this to bring on a pity party. I firmly believe that living happily single is preferable to living miserably married. I love how full and rich my life is, how blessed with good friends and wonderful kids and busy things to do, it is. I don't look back with regrets.

I just want to set the record straight.

Advice

2010-08-18T09:50:00.001-07:00

Men, if you are going to join an online dating service--and actually WANT to find a woman, maybe put a tiny bit of thought into your user name. 'Cause "gamerfanatic" is a good way to get zero hits on your profile. Just sayin.'

Right at the Center (Pit) of Things

2010-07-31T18:52:00.001-07:00

Grace: I want you to marry ******.

Mom: Why???

Grace: Because he has armpit hair.

No response. Mommy can't respond for a full 7.8 minutes because she's laughing so hard.

Grace: It's not THAT funny! And stop laughing at me!

Mom: Um, all grown up men have armpit hair. That's the deal.

Grace: Well, he has the most of anybody.

More laughing.

Mom: How exactly do you know that, Gracie?

Grace: I don't. I just think that he does, so that means he's a MAN, and you should marry him.

Acting Romantic

2010-07-26T20:04:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend I gobbled three super fun books, one of which was Shannon Hale's "The Actor and the Housewife." The central question of the book was whether a happily married woman can have a close, purely-platonic friendship with a man, especially a man who is the personification of female fantasy. To put it in terms more relatable to me, IF I were happily married to a great guy, could I also have a charming & platonic friendship with Hugh Jackman?

I don't have an answer to either of those, the question as posed in the book or the question as related to me.

I appreciated how the book pushed me to think about it in different ways and in far greater detail than I expected. The ensuing mental foray was intellectually and emotionally engaging, and I really like writers who challenge me. Not saying this was Sartre or Beckett or Seamus Haney, but still.

What caught me off guard was that I didn't really want Mr. Romantic Movie-Star-Guy. At all. The guy every woman in the world was supposed to be lusting over did nothing for me. I was insanely jealous of Becky, the protagonist, because she had such a perfect guy sitting at home. Fictional, yes. Perfect...seemed that way to me. Oh wait--her almost-perfect husband liked hunting, so I guess he wasn't perfect. Just close.

What I learned (because this blog is, after all, my attempt to make sense of male-female relationships via fiction):

you can have your flowery speeches and sweep-you-off-your-feet guys in tuxedos and private jets to private islands and cameras flashing on the red carpet.

A guy who loved you well before you loved him back, who waited patiently for you--and still does--, who rubs your back and cleans up your vomit through morning sickness and starts doing dishes when he walks in the door, who loves your family even when they're crazy and loves you even when you're crazy, who never looked at another woman since you, who moves out of his comfort zone to do things that matter to you.... Yeah, that's what I want.

The world can have the Felix Callihans; I flipped head over heels for Mike Jack.

Keeping the Faith

2010-07-13T19:27:00.001-07:00

I think I may have mentioned before that commitment to God is a "must" in any potential Future Guy. I think I may have rambled on about the merits of a shared dedication to a higher cause (maybe even quoted Hugh Jackman...).

For whatever reason, I feel like teasing this one out a little. Lucky you guys.

Here's one big ol' huge reason:

Relationships are scary. Dang scary. Going through a divorce was possibly the roughest thing I've ever done, and that's saying something. I hope I don't ever go through it again. Losing someone you love is horrid. Feeling betrayed is rotten. Tearing apart two lives that were stuck together hurts. Entering into a relationship, especially once you involve "commitment" and vows made, opens the door for all kinds of possible hurt. One of the reasons we place so much social convention and restriction on marriage is to underscore the seriousness of the act, and the potential destruction that ensues when the commitment isn't taken seriously.

An acquaintance of mine lived through a house fire that seriously injured both her and her young daughter. She became nearly fanatical about fire safety, pointing out hazards that most would scoff at. She has been dedicated to saving her friends and family from the pain she endured.

Fire does tend to make one cautious.

However, rough as divorce--and the lousiness that preceeded it--were, I'm still here. That I've survived with any modicum of sanity and humor intact is due solely to fabulous friends, hefty catharting, and a God big enough to rule the universe and good enough to hold me close through rocky times. Since He provides the friends and bears the catharting, I'd have to say the ultimate credit for pulling me through goes pretty much completely to Him.

I've learned, in a more intense way than I wanted, that the sting of disappointment, loss, and brokenness can all be swallowed up in His love. Learned it not just in a theoretical way, but in a deep-down-in-the-marrow kind of way.

Trusting Him takes the scary out of trying relationships again. Well, almost. I won't be walking into it on my own, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping for the best, feeling that I'm turning over heart, soul, and everything in me to another person's safekeeping, risking everything on hopeful trust in another flawed human being. Of course I'll be doing that to some extent--that's what love is. Someone once said that becoming a mother is to forever have your heart walking around outside of your body. Choosing to love someone is to acknowledge the possibility that you might get hurt. Your love could be the sweetest, most trustworthy person on the planet and still be smashed by a bus two blocks from home, and you could still suffer. That's the nature of love. But trusting God first means the peace to let go of paranoia, cynicism, and doubt--all hardcore relationship killers. Trusting God means relaxing, allowing space for love and trust to grow between two mortals. Trusting God means there is something bigger than myself, and I can turn over all the negative baggage and move on unencumbered. Knowing God's with me gives me the freedom to let someone else be with me, too.

God is my rock and my foundation. If I'm ever going to build a marriage, it's got to be on that Rock, my sure foundation. It would logically follow that Mr. Future Guy's got to have that same appreciation for solid grounding in Him.

I Do Have a Romance Bone--I Do, I Do, I Do!

2010-04-28T20:36:00.000-07:00

I have always, always wanted to visit Prince Edward Island. Since the first time I read Anne-with-an-E-Shirley, since the first time I watched those lovely Kevin Sullivan PBS movies (and all the hundreds of times since), since my friend Melanee's husband took her there for their honeymoon eons ago and I was green with envy--someday I've got to go to Prince Edward Island.

The other day I surfed around, checking out travel options and packages, just window-shopping a bit. Before I even knew it, I was swooning. Swooning, I tell you! Beaches, lighthouses, quaint little paths, beautiful old farmhouses, elegant resorts, long green lawns, colorful boats lined up the pier, dunes overlooking the sea... I'm not sure, but I may have drooled on my sleeve just a little bit.

Midst the sighing and swooning, I distinctly heard myself breathe out, "Oh, it's just so ROMANTIC!"

No idea why, not sure if this feeling translates to anything literary (other than the whole Anne of Green Gables thing that started this fascination, and you already know how I feel about that), but ladies & gentlemen:

Apparently I do have a romance bone after all.

Love Life Advice

2010-04-22T10:38:00.000-07:00

For pretty much all of first grade, which is practically an eternity in the life of a soon-to-be 7-year old, Grace has been in love with a classmate named Jonathan. This love is apparently returned. I asked Grace how she knew that Jonathan liked her back, and she cupped my cheeks in her hands and said, "because he does this to my face, and I do back to him, so I know he loves me." Makes sense.

Last week Grace spent an hour begging me to come to class the next day and play out a little script she developed. It went something like this:

Mommy comes to the classroom door.

Mommy: "Which one of you is Jonathan? Would Jonathan please raise his hand?"

When the poor boy raises his hand Mommy responds:

Mommy: "Jonathan, would you come out in the hall with me for a minute?"

Jonathan follows Mommy into the hall.

Mommy: "Jonathan, would you please marry Grace when she grows up?"

After answering this one simple question, Jonathan is free to return to the classroom and Mommy reports back to Gracie with her marital fate.

Needless to say, the reason this discussion went on for an hour is because Mommy, party pooper that she is, balked at doing Grace's proposing for her. Couldn't Grace do it herself? No, because that would be too embarrassing. Because having your mother propose for you isn't embarrassing at all. Don't you think Jonathan might be a little bit embarrassed to have Grace's mom ask him this question? Well, maybe, but that's better than if BOTH Grace and Jonathan are embarrassed, which is what will happen if Grace asks. Hmmm. What if the teacher doesn't like the class being interrupted for such a silly reason? It's not silly, and she won't mind, because she wants Grace to marry Jonathan. Uh, how do you know Mrs. K supports this? Because she loves me and she wants me to be happy, and I will be happy if I marry Jonathan. Oy.

We compromised. Grace agreed to write a letter asking the all-important question. While I put the twins to bed she wrote the rough draft, seen above, because Mommy is sneaky & saved it from the garbage. After the twins were safely slumbering, she requested pretty pink paper to write the REAL love letter, and Mommy's help correcting the spelling.

The actual letter read, "Dear Jonathan, Can you marry me? You are cute. Love, Grace."

After I tucked the girls into bed we snuggled and chatted for a little while, thankfully about non-romance related topics. Conversationally, I told the girls that I was going to take a couple of classes this summer, and we could do homework together after dinner. Almost as an aside, I mentioned that I was taking one of the classes with someone they know, who for some freaky-weird reason they have pegged as one of their top-candidates for stepdaddydom.

Mia bolted up in bed. "Oh YAY," she enthused. "Now you will fall in love!"

Grace snuggled into the covers and sighed. "That's perfect, Mom," she said. "You'll take the class together and you will smooch and then you'll get married."

I moved quickly to disabuse them. "Sorry, not gonna happen, girls."

Mia indignantly asked why; Grace gave me a long-suffering look--the one she gives me when I'm being particularly dumb.

"Because that's not the way it works," I responded to Mia's question. "You don't just take a class with somebody and decide to marry him. That's not how you find a husband." I silently applauded myself for ending this discussion with such finality.

Grace looked at me with pity.

"Yes, it does," she stated firmly. "It worked for me and Jonathan."

I have no response to that.

Signs of Life

2010-03-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

Months and months ago--okay, probably more like over a year--my friend Pat brought me a book that she thought I'd enjoy. I looked at it & nodded, put it on my desk where it promptly got covered with piles of Very Important Stuff, and never actually got around to reading it.

Until now.

I stayed up two nights in a row last week to read "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society," and if I had known it was THIS good I would have read it much, much sooner.

Not that it's perfect--there were a few small flaws in the writing that were mildly irritating, but it was far more charming than irritating, and in a strange kind of way, some of the amatuerisms just made it more charming.

I wouldn't classify it as a romance, exactly, though I have to admit, the romance worked for me. Not sure why--it just did. Maybe because it was kind of an improbable personality meld, and both romantic partners had been through so much--real life so much, not goofy teenage vampire angst so much--, and the romance came about so quietly and normally and *real*-ly, against the backdrop of just living their lives....I can believe in that kind of romance.

Here's a point from the very last page:

"All my life I thought that the story was over when the hero and heroine were safely engaged--after all, what's good enough for Jane Austen ought to be good enough for anyone. But it's a lie. The story is about to begin, and every day will be a new piece of the plot. Perhaps my next book will be about a fascinating married couple and all the things they learn about one another over time."

Amen, sister. That's a book I'd read.

Until it's written, it's encouraging to know there are signs of life in this romance-less literary heart of mine.

Salon, JA, Percy Jackson...

2010-03-01T10:24:00.000-08:00

I've got a hankering to salon with ya'll. It dawned on me that we've never actually discussed JA in a salon--wanna do it? You know you do.

I'm thinking March 20 or 27. I'll make sure I see Percy Jackson in all his big-screen glory beforehand so we can talk book vs. movie, too.

Whaddya think?

Baby Steps...

2010-02-16T20:48:00.001-08:00

I'm inching closer to reaching my New Year's resolution of having at least one great makeout session in 2010.

This morning the orthodontist removed the most sharp & obnoxious, pokey & painful brackets from my teeth. Even better, he put new wires on my braces and told me they were probably my LAST SET OF WIRES!!! Ever!!!

This is very good because, unlike most of my teenage peers, I never had the slightest desire to find out what it was like to kiss someone with braces, and I definitely don't want to find out what it's like to kiss someone with my own mouth full of braces, wires, and rubber bands. Most of the time I don't like having my own tongue in this metal torture chamber--why would I subject someone else's to it?

Yes, I realize this could be a moot point, as I'm not into the NCMO (non-committal makeout) thing, and most of the time I seem to be lightyears away from a committed, invested relationship. But still.

Baby steps...

One More Bites the Dust!

2010-01-30T19:57:00.000-08:00

I finally finished Northanger Abbey!!!! It would have happened soooooo much sooner, as I actually have enjoyed this book more than any of the other Austen tomes, but reading time--ANY reading time--has been in short supply.

What can I say--this is definitely my favorite Jane Austen. This should be a surprise to exactly no one, as it's JA at her sly, witty, ironic, nearly-snarky best. Yet she does it so gently that even the most obnoxious characters are still somewhat redeemed, or at the least, rendered inconsequential.

This book doesn't really qualify as a romance, in my humble opinion, so I'm not sure exactly where it falls in my quest to understand romance through the lens of JA. As an entertaining bedtime read, though, it earns two thumbs up.

Dissecting the Romance/Men Issue

2010-01-24T19:14:00.000-08:00

I'm breaking this up so that my fingers don't get tired of typing, and your eyes don't get tired of reading. Our whiteboard discussion of romance actually took place in two stages, the first involving long lists and the second utilizing a small chart. Today's post is The List. For clarity's sake the feminine perspective (me) is presented in a rather feminine italicized script, and the masculine perspective (President Precious) is presented in a masculine, blocky, bold font.

*Becky, you'll be glad to know that the very first thing we did was define romance so we could stay at least somewhat on the same page.

THE DEFINITION
Romance: an emotion, a feeling of closeness to someone, affection, excitement

Yeah, it's pretty basic, but it works.

THE LIST

Romance for Women Is:

flowers, especially for no reason
love notes or little gifts
affection/cuddling
BIG gifts
favors (acts of kindness)
time--making you a priority
footrubs--EWWW!--okay, neckrubs, shoulder rubs, etc.
cooking for her
crying on his shoulder
listening!! letting you cry on his shoulder
invitations
being touched
public affection, not necessarily physical, just being public with your feelings
saying hello instead of hi
being pursued
being goofy
quoting Ghandi (which means that women just like arbitrary & random things, so you find out those things and do them) I agree with this because it goes back to the whole "it's-so-romantic-if-he-takes-the-time-to-really-know-me" thing.
reading to them
everything a guy does (in your dreams, maybe)
influencing him/winning an argument
chivalry

Romance for Men Is:

Who knows? I don't
making out. + Sex. + other things that we don't talk about
having fun, playing around
being physical
no public affection--it's really, REALLY annoying, awkward, and embarrassing, especially when your 80-year old neighbor sees you
playful affection
paying attention, caring (or sharing) interests, listening--sometimes, but this could be annoying
to feel really, genuinely needed (as long as it's not cheesy)
playful disagreements
giving backrubs & stuff (you mean men really like to GIVE backrubs??? Yes. Wow.)

I know this probably seems like a pretty straightforward & simple list, but it took us about two hours, multiple arguments, several tangential stories, and an occasional erase-job to hash this out. As a duty to mankind, though, we felt it was worth it.

You're welcome.

Romance, Part Two (Or Three...Or Whatever)

2010-01-23T21:40:00.000-08:00

So, after my post about what romance is and is not, I started wondering if romance is a female-only domain. I mean, you don't really ever hear men chatting about something and one says to another, "I mean, gosh, Fred, it was just soooooo romantic." Is this because only women actually experience romance and men don't? And if so, is it because for men, romance = sex, and it's just that simplistic, or is that a sexist oversimplification? I couldn't figure it out, so I sought outside opinions from Brain Drain & President Precious.

When I grilled--I mean, interviewed--Brain Pain, I hadn't quite put it into these terms yet, so the conversation went something like this:

Me: What is attractive to you in your relationship w/the Divine Miss B? I mean, aside from the obvious physical attraction--what else do guys look for in a relationship?

BP: Well, now, don't discount the importance of physical attraction--

Me: Noted. But aside from that--

BP: Well, I'd have to say it's really nice being with someone intelligent, who's well-read and stays up on current events, and has something to say...Someone who actually gets my jokes, especially when they are urbane & witty, as they so often are--

Me: Oh yes. You're known across the state for your brilliant wit.

BP: Thank you. It's nice to have fans in my hometown.

Me: Sarcasm, Stevie. It's beautiful thing.

BP: I don't get it.

Me: Moving on... So, what speaks love to you? How do you feel loved or have those ooh-la-la moments--and I don't mean sex, because that's just a given and I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOU & DIVINE MISS B!

BP: Hmm...well, don't discount the importance of sex--

Me: LALALALA, I'm not hearing this!!!

BP: Okay, besides that, it's nice when she does little things for me, just things to make my life easier or just because she knows I like it.

Me: Good. This is good. Taking notes now...

BP: But don't underestimate the importance of sex to men--

Me: Okay, we're done now. The end. Bye-bye.

The useful part of this conversation was the reassurance that there were some romantic type things that seemed to work for the male gender as well as the female gender. Good to know.

The discussion with President Precious ended up becoming extremely involved and required charting out on a massive whiteboard, so I'll post that a bit from now, after I download pictures of the whiteboard so you can be duly impressed by how thoroughly we interrogated this question of what constitutes romance to men.

Everything I Need to Know About Relationships I Learned From Netflix

2010-01-10T13:50:00.001-08:00

I spent a wee bit of time over the holidays catching up on movies--which for me means I watched two actual movies, and supervised the kids watching five-hundred or so kiddie movies. That, combined with discovering "Cougartown" on abc.com, have persuaded me that apparently I still have much to learn in the romance realm.

What Hollywood has taught me about love:

Having immediate sex is the path to true love. Before sharing anything about oneself, developing any kind of trust, or exchanging names, you should first jump straight in the sack.
Mind-blowingly great sex = eternal relationship bliss.
Sex--even mediocre sex--will solve all relationship problems.
If you happen to become preggers as a result of all this sex, the man--whether you are still a couple or not--will rush to your side & fully support you and the child for the rest of eternity. Pregnancy will make him realize how much he loves you and needs you.
If you happen to contract a disease as the result of all this sex--oh wait, that never happens. Ever.
The only way to know who you want to make a lifetime committment to is to sleep with as many people as possible so you can be sure.
Once you've decided on one person you should probably remain at least somewhat faithful to that person, unless A.) you meet someone hotter, B.) you meet someone better in bed, or C.) your partner isn't perpetually horny 24/7.
Making sexually suggestive comments to other people is not being unfaithful. Neither is watching other people get naked and/or have sex. Phone or internet sex is not infidelity. Depending on the situation, other forms of sexual activity with someone other than your partner may or may not be considered cheating.
Bottom line, l-o-v-e = s-e-x.

The end.

Romance Is...

2009-12-22T19:46:00.000-08:00

I'm on page 129 of Northanger Abbey, thoroughly enjoying it, although as usual, the romance is doing zip for me...and it begs the question of what exactly DOES speak romance to me.

Good question.

It's been a year since the Jane Austen experiment began, and I'm nearly done with all the JA books. If this attempt at discovering my literary swoon-worthy lover is failing, I need to analyze why, and in order to answer that question, I need to assess what does and does not do it for me, romantically speaking.

Determining what makes me go "ooh-la-la" is tough; defining romance killers is a bit easier, so I'll start there.

Romance is NOT:

flirting with anything in a skirt. Especially if it's a short skirt. Or anything in a bikini. Or midriff-baring top. Heck, flirting with anyone other than your woman is blecky. Fidelity is attractive; skanks--male or female-- are not.
running to the mall on Christmas Eve and grabbing the first thing you see because it only then occurs to you that you don't have a gift for the supposed love of your life.
Counting the gifts under the tree to make sure that you're 'even.'
bringing home roses for Valentine's Day that still have the $9.99 supermarket tag attached, while complaining about the huge rush of men who were all vying for the last few bedraggled bouquets, as evidence of the dumb things men will do in order to "get some."
flirting with my sister.
asking what you "have" to do for Valentine's Day, and when no answer is given, saying, "Well, what are your roommates expecting me to do?" Word from the wise--if you are more worried about impressing outside parties than expressing sincere affection for your beloved, you're probably not ready for grown-up relationships.
Buying a commercial greeting card, writing "ditto" under the sentiments, and signing your name.

I could continue on (for miles), but that's depressing. On a happier note,

Romance is:

President Monson telling people that his wife has the most beautiful hands he's ever seen.
my brother-in-law Aron writing a list of 100 Things I Love About You for my sister when they were in 9th grade.
knowing someone well enough to give gifts that actually mean something. I still have gifts from a freshman-era boyfriend because he actually bothered to find out authors and musicians and films I liked, took the time to write funny/sweet poems to accompany them, and what do you know--15 years later I still like those books, albums, and movies. Still have the poems, too. And in case you're wondering, yes, he is still available, but not exactly to women.
someone who only has eyes for you. Fidelity is hot.
being the "sunshine in [someone's] life" (per President Uchtdorf's description of his wife, Harriet), or as Junie B. Jones puts it, "making [someone's] world all sparky." Romance is telling that person what she means to you.
a former bishop who took his wife shopping for a new dress because he knew that she'd never, ever spend the money on herself without some prodding. Romance is seeing the light in her eyes when she feels as beautiful as she always looks to you.
my brother-in-law Paul babysitting 9 kids, feeding them all lunch, cleaning up two messy potty-training accidents, and a minor medical emergency, so that his wife could have a girls' day out with her sisters.
slow dancing in the kitchen after the kids are in bed and laughing because you're both such terrible dancers and it doesn't matter because no one else will ever see you & your secrets are safe with each other
hearing him say you're beautiful, and knowing he means it
little acts of kindness. Romance is someone who thinks of your comfort, happiness, and well-being. It's opening doors, standing to block the wind or the sun, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, bringing you food, getting up so you don't have to, picking something up at the store, brushing your hair back when your hands are full... ah, romance is so simple.
knowing that you are exactly what he wants.

I haven't found it in Ms. Austen's masterpieces yet, but in real life at least, I know romance when I see it.

Why I Don't Date

2009-11-26T12:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Cub Wannabe (You Know Who You Are),

The flirting was kind of fun. 30-something single moms of four little critters don't generally have much flirting in their lives, mostly from lack of opportunity, and also because the overall insanity of four little critters + work + school + church + staying up late to finish laundry & dishes just pushes everything else out of the brain and sometimes they don't even remember what flirting is or what it feels like.

So, THANK YOU for reminding me. 'Cause that was fun. Even if your attempts to hit on me were pretty hokey and lame ("No, really--I'm attracted to older women. Really."), hey--it's more action than I generally get.

But because I am a maternal soul, I'm going to give you some big sister-style advice, because maybe your big sister never told you these things.

Women aren't impressed by stories of all-night video game marathons. Especially if you brag about spending every weekend that way. This is especially true for 'older,' grown-up women.
Women aren't turned on by lists of all the toys you've bought, especially when followed by comments about how it's a much more productive use of money than dating. No. 1, I'm turned on by responsible money management, like saving and investing and frugal living. No. 2, --and I think most women would agree with me here-- I happen to think that spending money on dating ME is about the best use of financial resources any man could hope for.
Never, EVER hock a loogie in front of a woman. Especially a woman you want to impress. NEVER.
If she winces when you cuss, and a few minutes later tells you how much she really hates that particular crude word you've dropped a few times, the best possible way to attempt salvaging the situation is to immediately apologize and make sure you never use that word around her again. The best way to destroy any chance with her is to childishly begin repeating the word and throwing it into the remaining few seconds of the conversation every third or fourth word. Trust me on this--she'll be out of there fast, and she won't be back. See, she just learned two very important things about you: one, you don't care about her feelings at all, and two, you are crude, rude, and immature.
If her arms are loaded with books and bags, and you are walking together, it would up your odds if you offer to carry some of her things, or at the very least, make sure that you open every door between here and the parking lot. It will be a decided black mark against you if you amble alongside her, watching her struggle with the books and bags, waiting for her to kick all FIVE doors open with her foot so the two of you can go through. I mean, seriously--missing one door is absentminded, but actually WAITING for her to fight her way through four more---buddy, did your momma drop you on your head when you were a baby or are you just that self-involved? Chivalry is sometimes nice, but common courtesy speaks volumes about a person of either gender.
Telling her that your shared religious beliefs are important to you is somewhat undercut when you go on to brag about frequently missing church because you "usually" sleep in.
Being cool with four kids is huge plus; being positive about the fact that they are adopted is even better. Using derogatory racial epithets commonly reserved for those who share the racial heritage of said kids is decidedly un-cool. Consider yourself lucky that you got away with a withering glare and a few sharp words. Supreme self-control kept you from a pointy-booted kick to the crotch. We mommies just don't see the humor in trash-talking our kids. We're funny that way.

Scarily enough, in a younger, more naive part of my past, I would have tried to look past these things and find the diamond presumably hidden far away beneath your sooty exterior. I used to be stupid. In that past chapter of my life I fell for dumb Jane Eyre & Mr. Rochester stories.

I'm smarter now, and I know that 99.9% of the time, Beauty's beast is just plain a beast. In that sense, THANK YOU for revealing so much so early and saving me the time of actually dating you.

Sincerely,

The Almost-But-Not-Quite Cougar

Drooling a Little Bit: My Not-so-Secret-or-Guilty Crush on Hugh Jackman

2009-11-12T16:11:00.000-08:00

Maybe crush isn't the right word. For starters, I don't want anyone else's husband. At all. Ever. And secondly, I don't even know Mr. Jackman, so basically I'm crushing on a PR version of a Hollywood ideal, and for all I know he's a belching couch-potato who would be a total turn-off in real life.

All that aside, this past week I've had the opportunity to reflect on Hughie-boy. And by 'reflect,' I mean "stay home sick from work and relive HJ in all his Wolverine glory." I must point out that, given hours at home in bed, I didn't pick up any of the several Jane Austen books I had lying near the bed, nor did I beg the Divine Ms. B to bring me made-for-BBC versions of JA books. Nope, it was all about Hugh Jackman. Thanks to her extraordinary kindness, I had my X-Men fix.

I'm not sure what it says about me that I would GLADLY watch any of the X-Men movies over again, but I'm not sure I ever want to see most of the many Jane Austen films I've managed to miss thus far in life. If this is evidence that I'm not a real girly-girl after all--well, I can live with that.

However, hours of meditating on Hugh Jackman's merits have done more to help me finesse my quest for my own Perfection Himself than all four of the Jane Austen books I've schlepped through so far. Here are the things I like about HJ, that just possibly might show up in my Future Guy:

He's talented AND smart. I first noticed HJ years ago when his acting ability caught my attention. I didn't particularly think he was sexy; I just thought he was really good at what he does. He's surprisingly well-educated for a Hollywood leading man, and his range of skill is impressive. Smart is always sexy.
He's funny and he doesn't take himself too seriously. Just watch any interview with the guy.
He's an adoptive dad to two gorgeous kids who don't share his DNA or even his ethnic heritage. Okay, that's a huge one to me, for 4 rather obvious and adorable reasons.
He's been happily married for 13 years to a stunningly beautiful woman 13 years older than himself. That age gap doesn't mean much of anything to me; however, I do arbitrarily extrapolate from it that he A.) is confident in himself, as that choice had to have raised some eyebrows, B.) he's not afraid to go after what he wants, because most men would lack the nerve to go after a gorgeous older woman, and by his own account he was 'planning the proposal within three months of meeting her,' and C.) he's capable of sticking to a commitment.
Related to his marriage, yet another reason he's on my list: he had his wedding rings engraven with a Sanskrit phrase that translates to "we dedicate our union to a greater source." I like that. It reminds me of something I journaled awhile back, about there only being a point to remarrying if marriage allowed me to serve the Lord better than I could alone. I like the idea of synergy in marriage, devoted to a higher purpose. Hugh Jackman can be my proof that there are men out there who agree.

Just so we're clear, I'm not really in love with Hugh Jackman. If he popped into my living room I'd shake his hand, get an autograph, and happily send him home to his wife and kids. I DO, however, want to find someone with the values and attributes I find admirable in HJ. If the Future Guy just happens to have a heartbreakingly-beautiful smile like Hughie-boy, well--that will just seal the deal.

One Thing We Can Agree On

2009-09-15T09:59:00.001-07:00

I may not know where to find the literary version of The Man of My Dreams, but I know sexy & romantic when I see it. Pulling Baby out of the corner or playing mud with Demi Moore, he was the hottest thing to light this girl's fire at the age when hormones first start waking up. I lusted after his onscreen personna; I respected his offscreen integrity in championing causes that he believed in & creating a sustaining marriage to one woman throughout his life (together for almost 38 years? Wow.).

R.I.P, Mr. Swayze.

Spreading the Love Around

2009-08-19T07:33:00.001-07:00

The JA infestation is spreading....

My 12-year old sister Emma polished off Persuasion a couple of weeks ago, and Emma shortly before. I lent Lady Susan to her this past weekend and she devoured that on the drive home. The official verdict via text:

"relly good! I wz just prty disgusted wit susan & hr "dear friend" mrs. johnson."

You and me both. I suggested Pride & Prejudice next, but I think she's got the same masochistic gene that I do, and is going to do Sense & Sensibility just because I told her how awful it was.

I haven't been reading much JA lately--really, much of anything lately (although I have found time to finally fall in love with the Fablehaven books, and I know I'm waaaaay behind the rest of the world, but better late than never and at least I'm enjoying them now) because I am Very, Very Busy doing Very, Very Important Things.

One of those important things is studying for the GRE again because I have this insane idea in my head that going back to school would be a good idea. Because apparently working fulltime, teaching parttime, mothering four nuclear-energy level children, and blogging about Jane Austen is not enough to occupy my time and I have an unhealthy obsession with constant stress. Before I even get to the school part I've got to do the GRE part, and unlike the last time I took it, my math scores actually count this time. That's bad.

I would be freaking out, but I've got a secret weapon named Lucas and we are studying together for the GRE, and if anyone can help me bump up that icky math score, he can. In fact, just last night I quickly, easily worked through a couple of problems that he'd given me, that I actually understood, and I was so excited that I wrote a little song on my scratch paper that went something like this:

Oh yeah, oh yeah, who's the queen of the math house?
Who rocks the math world?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, that would be me, me, ME.
I rule the math scene. Oh yeah!

Trust me, it's better with the booty shaking. Use your imagination.

Anyhoo, (I know, I know--you're wondering what on earth my point is and when I'm going to make it) study sessions with Luc often deteriorate into rambling and never-ending debates over the relative merit of humanities vs. science. That's because the verbal and essay portions of GRE prep are my domain and Luc feels about them the way I feel about math, which makes for a great study partnership, aside from the endless tangential debates.

Lucas has a delusional belief that converting me to the math/science spectrum is a possibility. A week or so ago he said he had a book for me to read. A physics book. As in, actual science stuff. Written by an actual scientist. The kind you look at in the bookstore and wonder what kind of geek actually pays money to read this stuff. Okay, I'm making it sound really bad when the truth is that I wanted to read it anyway, and probably would have been the geek picking it up in the bookstore but maybe not actually spending money on it, but I never would have admitted that. Ever. So because I am eee-vill, like the de-vill, I told Luc that I'd read his physics book if he read Jane Austen. I even generously offered to make it Pride & Prejudice, because that's the most tolerable one I've done.

He's on chapter seven and the verdict thus far:

"This book is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo boring! Auuuuuugggggghhhhh!"

Heehee. My name is Wendy and I have a special purpose (bonus points if you can name that movie!). Sharing the JA pain, one reluctant reader at a time.

Lady Susan (Betcha Thought I Forgot About JA)

2009-06-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I polished off Lady Susan, a short and rather strange little Jane Austen gem.

Observations:

Lady Susan herself is SCAAAAARY!
Excellent work, Ms. Janie, on the storytelling via narrative letters. I remember trying that technique in several different writing classes, and always falling in love with how much exposition you could cram into this form. Playing with voice and tone is so fun this way, and Jane Austen is, once again, the master of characterization.
One thing I really like about Jane Austen is that it's impossible to completely hate any of her characters, because they are just too real. She's so compassionate. Lady Susan is a complete witch with a capital B. I wanted to hate her, but I kept having uncomfortable flashes of recognition...and I don't mean recognizing my neighbor or my sister or best friend. Sadly, I suspect I've had my own Lady Susan moments. Gotta love writing like that.
Not to state the obvious, but holy cow--I'm so glad that I live in an era when women aren't defined by the men in their lives! Yeesh! No wonder some women (ahem) went to outrageous lengths to secure the man they idealized. That makes me sad.

Which brings me to my conclusion:

This was a pretty depressing book.

Why Marry, Part Two

2009-06-22T11:54:00.000-07:00

From a friend who shall remain nameless:

"We marry in order to validate our lives."

The friend thought this was a quote from a movie with Susan Sarandon. Maybe I should google the actual quote, but I'm lazy.

I've had this thought jotted down next to my bed, underneath my scriptures, where I can see it every morning and every night, and the repetition hasn't helped--it still sounds like a load of crap.

Several of my YOUNGER siblings married before I did, and when I finally married I was appallingly old for a Mormon girl, so I had plenty of time to think about whether I wanted to be married, and WHY I would marry. One important conclusion I reached was that I could have a meaningful, happy life regardless. And that's been true--I loved my life as a single woman, I loved my life as a married woman (a deluded married woman, as it turned out, but innocence/delusion is generally a happy state), I love my life as a single mom, and I trust that if I ever feel motivated enough, I will love being happily married--genuine happiness, not the delusional kind--again.

Everything about my life is real and valid and matters to me. Marriage wouldn't make it any more or less real and valid and meaningful.

I'm assuming the quote has more to do with the strength of shared experience, and I can see that. There is something to be said for the power of going through the heaven times and the hell times, and knowing that someone else is right there with you--not in a "I'll-be-your-friend-and-your-sympathetic-ear" way, but in a "this-is-MY-hell-too" way. Of course, marriage isn't a guarantee of that kind of relationship, although it does up the odds. You can be married and be more alone that you ever thought possible, and in a special brand of hell invoked by your spouse. It happens. But I agree that the ideal is that marriage means you share the good & bad stuff, and the shared experience somehow makes it all MORE real and more meaningful.

I just can't buy that marriage is an essential act of self-validation. Doesn't work for me.

Is Marriage Worth It? Part One: Exponential Impact

2009-06-15T14:42:00.000-07:00

This is going to be a multi-post treatise, as you nice people deserve lots of thoughtful responses to your plentiful and varied and splendiferous ideas on marriage.

Today's thought comes from Jessica, who used the 1 + 1= 3 analogy to express that marriage should make each partner more, in fact, should create something new that is greater than simply the sum of the two people.

I like this thought. Here's one tiny reason why:

The ultimate aim and purpose of my life is to serve God and do His work. It seems reasonable to me that marriage should only be worth entering into if it furthers that aim. Let's face it--I have plenty of cynical, pessimistic evidence that marriage can hinder one in accomplishing that task; faith suggests that ideally, marriage enables both partners to rise higher than they would otherwise. It reminds me of the old Quaker saying, "You lift me, and I'll lift thee, and we'll both ascend together." Becky's smart MIL, Camille-The-Goddess-of-Wisdom, addressed something of this a few weeks ago in a comment that has stuck with me, about the concept of 'supporting and sustaining' one's spouse. She pointed out that alternate definitions of the terms refer to broadening and enlarging--which has "broadened" and "enlarged" my understanding of our roles within marriage (sorry--that was shamefully bad).

Here's a question, though. In what ways do you feel/think that marriage allows you to be/do more than you could singly? I have some ideas, but I want to hear from Ye Wise Ones.

Reasons to Believe (why yes, I am a child of the 80s--what gave it away?)

2009-06-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

I've been a slacker about posting on the JA blog lately, mostly because I moved, and one week later ended up with daughter no. 2 in the hospital, then back in the hospital shortly thereafter, then daughter no. 3 decided to join the fun and develop a scary case of pneumonia. In between all of this, daughter no. 1 was diagnosed with gastritis, the precursor to ulcers, and the one and only son decided it was perfect timing to claim his share of maternal attention by acting like the beastie boy from h$&%.

Needless to say, Jane Austen, romance--or lack thereof--, heck, even reading, period, has been the last thing on my mind.

BUT, I've also had a hard time feeling motivated to care. 99.9% of the time I find myself feeling pretty apathetic toward marriage and relationships. As in, who needs 'em? As in, life is pretty good the way it is. As in, me & God have a good thing going--He's pretty awesome at providing everything we (kids and Mommy) need, so what else is there?

And I feel guilty about feeling this way, because I belong to a church that holds forth that marriage is ordained of God, and I believe that (in a generic, good-for-other-people kind of way), and I want to have a little more conviction when I say it.

So help me out here! Why is marriage worth it? Post a comment, email me, or grab my elbow the next time you see me. Give me your best sell.

Bonus points if you make me laugh out loud. Bigger bonus points if you actually get this cold, cold heart to crack a smitch and say "awwwwww."

Deviating Into the Other Edward's Territory

2009-04-23T14:53:00.001-07:00

Megan posted a link to this blog and I couldn't resist passing these two gems along:

Hahaha. We're laughing because it's true. This probably says something sick & twisted about Mormon women. Haha.

Screech! Hitting the Brakes on JA

2009-04-21T11:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, life is doing it's normal thing, "the only thing constant is change," blah, blah.

Here's the deal--I have not picked up another JA since finishing Pride & Prejudice a month or so ago.

Deal #2--I''m selling my house and moving to a new one, wrapping up the end of the semester at my busy, albeit fun, job, planning for several new adventures in my professional & personal lives (because I am a cat, apparently, and have several intersecting lives. Or possibly just routine split personalities).

Deal #3-only ONE, got that--ONE person entered this last fabulous JA Challenge, which, I admit, wasn't as fabulous as it could have been. My Resident Relationship Guru has informed me that Heidi was the brave soul who took the plunge. Heidi, my dear, you pick--your very own copy of the Twilight movie (which I'm assuming you already have), or the complete works of Jane Austen (which I'm not sure you'd want...).

Deal #4--This particular JA Challenge is coming back as a lean, mean Jane Austen machine. The RRG did not give me Heidi's entry because we'll include it in the new & improved JA Challenge. I have a simply fabulous prize package planned, so sharpen your pencils and start plotting the Perfect Man. I'll post new details in late-May, after my move. Seriously, it's a gooooood prize. You'll be slobbering.

JA Challenge II: Flex Your Descriptive Muscles!

2009-04-01T09:27:00.000-07:00

Ooh, I'm so excited about this JA Challenge!

It's all about me, Me, ME, which shouldn't surprise anyone, since this entire blog is a massive exercise in self-indulgence where I get to be snobby and whiny and dismissive of the most revered masuline literary heroes, all in a quest to determine what it is, literarily speaking, that makes me go weak in the knees.

Here's the challenge: write a description of The Guy that sets me swooning.

Top Prize: "The Collected Works of Jane Austen" OR the "Twilight" movie--your pick. For those of you who would toss your cookies over either option, I will find something more neutral to satisfy you, should you actually write the winning entry.

Top Runners-Up (however many the Resident Relationship Guru picks): your very own Junie B. Jones book, 'cause you know Junie B. is the queen of relationship sparkies.

How it works:

Email your entries to janeaustenblog@gmail.com by April 12. They will be read and sorted by my Resident Relationship Guru, who will select the top 3 or 5 or however many she chooses, to blindly submit to me (meaning I won't know who wrote them). I'll choose the winner, because this is, after all, about ME.
Entries can be any style, any length (less is often more, as I tell my students), and you can enter as many times as you want. What exactly is it that makes me go all ga-ga? Is he a handsome, sauve Regency man or a hale & hearty Frontier guy? A contemporary metrosexual kind of man? What is it, in written word, that conveys Perfection Himself? I wish I knew. I'm hoping y'all will enlighten me. Sidenote-- the Resident Relationship Guru is clearly qualified to judge this thing. Over the phone last night she offered up her version of Wendy's Dream Guy. My jaw hit the floor. Plus, I think I drooled. Just a bit.
Keep it PG! Okay, maybe PG-13, at worst. Attraction does not equal lust, and some of my blog readers have young and unpolluted minds.
All entries may be posted on the blog. Entering the JA Challenge implies consent to use your text.
By all means, exploit all the blog posts where I've ranted about what is and is not attractive. If you know me IRL and have additional insight, use that competitive edge. I'll probably even help you, if you ask me.
If you are one of my friends in real life, DON'T base Mr. McDreamy on your hubby! I will be soooo icked out if I choose a winner and then realize he lives down the street from me & is married to my workout buddy (not that I'm saying anything about my workout buddies; just using it to illustrate the point). And do you really want my Vision of Male Perfection to be based on your spouse? Eewww. Just don't, that's all.

Questions? Post 'em in the comments section or email 'em to Ms. Relationship Guru at janeaustenblog@gmail.com.

I'm Just Sayin'...

2009-03-26T15:01:00.001-07:00

So last night I had a pretty steamy dream about Andrea Bocelli. Pretty and steamy both. Which is so not me, mostly because I'm not prone to steamy dream (darn! um, maybe that's a good thing...), and also because, while I adore AB's voice, I've never really thought he was a hunka-hunka. Rethinking that one after last night.

However, it brought up something new.

I can "see" lots of pros to having a relationship with a blind man. Really--is there a downside? As an astute friend-who-shall-remain-nameless once said, speaking of her nearsighted husband, "Cellulite doesn't matter if your guy can't see it anyway." Exactly.

For example, another friend, hereafter known as C, married someone who lost his sense of smell as the result of a traumatic accident years ago. According to C, it was hard at first getting used to being with someone who couldn't smell, but "then I realized I could just let a fart rip whenever I wanted, and now one of my fears is that he'll regain his sense of smell and I'll have to start being careful."

There you have it. A new one for the list of virtues.

I'm In Love

2009-03-24T20:31:00.000-07:00

I may have found my Fictionalized Romantic Hero in Pride & Prejudice. Bet you're thinking Darcy does it for me.

Nadda.

I'm all over Mr. Bennet.

Last night I was reading P & P, and laughing, and reading P & P, and laughing, and it clicked--my favorite laugh-out-loud moments are all Mr. Bennet.

Funny is very attractive.

Polishing Off Another Jane (burp)

2009-03-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

After a couple of really late (3, 4 am-ish) nights, I finished Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. I know this isn't another Jane Austen, but for some strange reason the Jane Austen experiment seems to have unleashed this urge to re-attempt all the classic feminine literature I've spent my life running from.

I know you are dying to hear what I thought.

Too bad.

Just kidding. Seriously, though, I'm in a bit of a quandry over how to discuss this book without getting too personal. For the Queen of TMI, I actually do have a few boundaries about dumping certain things out into the blogosphere, and Jane Eyre is hitting those boundaries.

See, the thing is, I think I married Mr. Rochester. And now I'm divorced from Mr. Rochester. So, on the one hand, I could totally buy the 'romance' because, obviously, in real life, I once-upon-a-time DID fall for it. On the other hand, the older & wiser me was horrified by that naive and stupid little Janie. I do not predict a happy long-term ending for Jane & Edward (what is it with the name Edward? Does it just scream 'romance' to sappy novel writers? Because it doesn't really do it for me. The name alone, that is. But it seems to be some kind of rule for romantic heroes.)

I want so much to go into far greater detail on why the romance in this book concerned me, but I will exercise far greater restraint than I am normally capable of and forebear.

It did, however, give me an idea for another JA Challenge, which I will post later this week ;).

Just Wondering...

2009-03-12T09:40:00.000-07:00

I'm part way through Pride & Prejudice; both Jane Eyre and Little Women are also on my bedside table. Last night I was reading back and forth between P&P and Jane Eyre (yes, I know I'm weird), and it suddenly hit me:

Why am I searching for my romantic ideal in books written by women who only ever knew romantic IDEALS, not marital realities?

Does it seem odd to anyone else?

Because honestly, sometimes JA seems really naive about male-female relationships, and that's not just my cynicism speaking. This whole JA experiment has helped me do a lot of thinking about what kinds of literature speak to me, and one thing I've realized is that I'm drawn to stories of very complex, conflicted, REAL relationships--you know, the kind that normal, screwed up human beings have. I'm far less interested in the feel-good sparks of initial love, and far more interested in how people make it work, year after year, decade after decade, loving and arguing and making up and raising kids and working hard and having up times and down times and sick times and healthy times and sad times and joyous times. Those are the stories I like.

Just something to think about.

And the Winner Is...

2009-03-08T17:40:00.000-07:00

I passed all entries in the JA "Finish the Line" contest on to my friend Leigh Ann, who is far more of a JA/writing expert than I will ever be. Added bonus--the choosing was on her shoulders, not mine, so no cries of judicial partiality (holy heck, can you believe I just used "judicial partiality" in a real sentence? Sometimes I amaze myself. Sometimes I make myself gag, too).

The Winner:

“I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you—after all I did take your favorite soap and used it all up. But you can't imagine how dirty I was, really. When that blasted horse, Parsival, unsaddled me I landed right in the biggest pile of sh-... pastoral dropp-..., in some mud. I promise to ride into town this afternoon and get you some more. Do you like the floral or fruit scented soaps?"

"Edward, you worry yourself too much about soap," said Elinor with all the compassion of a vicar. "Besides, that was Marianne's soap and she doesn't wash much now that Willoughby has left ."

"Oh, good. I mean not good that she's not bathing-" he stumbled over his words, nervous to be in the presence of this plain yet sensible lady, "good, because I can be here with you and not out with that gluepot of a--, ah never mind, horses will be horses." Edward stood up, straightened his jacket then offered Elinor his arm, "shall we take a turn in the garden?"

Leigh Ann's official critique:

"First Place: 'I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you'--I could vividly imagine this being a scene in the book!"

There you have it.

The wonderful little prize is a $25 gift card for Dover Books, where classic literature is cheap, cheap, cheap, and you can get a boxful of yummy reading for pennies.

Becky-lou, congrats. I sent the gc via email a few minutes ago. Enjoy!

Thanks to everyone who sent entries. It was super fun reading them. We'll have to do this again.

Laboratory Findings

2009-03-06T13:10:00.000-08:00

Page 129, Pride & Prejudice

Apparently I do have some estrogen running through my veins after all. Wait--does estrogen run through the bloodstream? I think it must. Relying on several years of infertility testing, I can say with authority that estrogen can be detected in blood, urine, and saliva. Maybe sweat, too, but I've never had to give a sweat sample.

Anyhoo, Pride & Prejudice...LOVING IT! Did you get that? I AM LOVING THIS BOOK!

It's not the 'romance' that is doing anything for me--I don't give a fig about Darcy. This is just a seriously engaging, funny, brilliantly well-written book. I started laughing on the first page and haven't stopped. I've been using bits and pieces of the book to reward myself for completing tasks on my extremely overloaded to-do list this week.

Ladies and gentlemen, there is hope for the Jane Austen experiment.

At Last!

2009-03-02T08:21:00.000-08:00

Sense & Sensibility finally bit the dust! Somewhere in the skies over Ohio or Indiana or some midwestern state, I polished that sucker off.

I have to admit, the last third of the book was more tolerable than what preceded it, but that's kind of like saying that the last stages of chemo & radiation are more tolerable than the initial stages--still not something you'd ever like to do or recommend to others. Keep in mind, too, that the last third of the book was completed during a loooong cross-country flight, and may have been more interesting simply because it was better than staring out the window at the clouds.

Once the book was finished I was going to attempt watching the Emma Thompson film version again, but I just don't think I hate myself that much.

PS--this is just between us: thanks to an airport bookstore in Cincinnati, I started Pride & Prejudice on the return flight. Don't tell anyone, but I might actually be enjoying it. Shhh....

Emotional Honesty Is SOOOO Hot

2009-02-26T08:20:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago a friend handed me a little sticky note with http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/ written on it. I promptly stuffed it in my purse and forgot about it. A few days ago I found the note and pulled up the site.

Ooh-la-la, ladies, I was fanning myself off in my comfortably cool office. That there blog story is just a-swimming in romance. I swear, I could feel the sparks flying all the way through my computer. The screen practically fogged over.

Being me, I had to deconstruct this a bit. For one thing, I do NOT--repeat, NOT--like cowboys in any way, shape or form. Growing up in rodeo country cured me of any possible shreds of physical attraction to that brand of men. There is absolutely no room in my romantic fantasies for cowboys. So why on earth was I lusting after Pioneer Woman's Marlboro Man? And hiney tingles? Seriously? I didn't know whether to puke or laugh out my nose. And yet, there I was, salivating on the keyboard, breathlessly clicking through each post.

Number one thing to note: there is loads and loads and LOADS of making out in Ms. PW's story. Scrolling through page after page of uber-passionate kisses and gigantically romantic snuggles and barely-veiled hints of more is bound to raise the temperature. I'm not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing, but it's at least a partial explanation for the workout my planner got fanning the air in front of the computer.

Number two thing to note: emotional honesty is SOOOOO hot.

Did you get that? Really, really HOT.

There is just something totally irresistible about a man with the courage and honesty to put his feelings out there. Guys, well--straight guys anyway, if you are taking notes, note this: women just melt when you put yourself on the line. I'm not talking about emotional neediness or manipulation here. I'm talking the strength and self-confidence that says "I can walk away if she doesn't want me, but I want her so much that it's worth the risk to open myself up." Yowsers! That is just so dang sexy!

Important disclaimer here: I do remember a few times in my earlier dating life that a perfectly nice guy expressed an interest in me and for whatever reason, I didn't reciprocate those feelings. His laying it on the line did not melt me into a little puddle of wanting him. But the thing is, every single time, it made that guy jump up a notch or two in my estimation, because you can't help but be impressed when someone has the guts to risk rejection and be up front about what he wants. And even if the guy reminds you of a frog and that's why you just aren't interested no matter how nice he is, it's still flattering that someone with that kind of strength and honesty of character would be interested in you.

And in case you want to argue with me, that cowboys are actually hot...

The Completely Self-Indulgent Book List That Partially Justifies Not Finishing Sense & Sensibility Yet

2009-02-24T11:13:00.000-08:00

Just to make myself feel better, here is a list of books I’ve read since January 1, during the same approximate time that I’ve been trudging through Sense & Sensibility:

“A Single Life” by Kristen M. Oaks. I expected it to be cheesy; it was. It was also unexpectedly candid, honest, and refreshingly positive.

“Gods Behaving Badly” by Marie Phillips. Clever, often hilarious, and chock full of wry commentary on this strange contemporary society we live in. Thanks to this book I now know that apparently I DO have a limit as to how much XXXXXX (okay, I just went back and deleted the sentence I had written, as I don’t want any of my younger readers asking their parents what I meant). Let’s just say this is quite a naughty book and leave it at that.

“The Ultimate Career” by Daryl Hoole. I know, I know, I felt like a traitor to my feminist roots. But the thing is, I actually found some good ideas for taking care of my house and kids, and that’s worth something.

“Broken Things to Mend” by Jeffrey R. Holland. What can I say—is there anything NOT to like in Elder Holland’s writings?

“The Wish List” by Eoin Colfer. Kind of dull and uninspired. Felt like a tepid, watered down version of The Screwtape Letters, which didn’t work for me at all. Give me good ol’ Clive Staples Lewis any day.

“Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception” by Eoin Colfer. I do not approve of authors killing off perfectly nice characters. Who does Colfer think he is—J.K. Rowling? Tsk, tsk.

“Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident” by Eoin Colfer. I thought I was catching up on the Artemis Fowl books; Christian informed me that I’m mistaken. On the bright side, there are two more A.F. books waiting for me! March's reading list just got happier.

“Beauty: A Retelling of Beauty & the Beast” by Robin McKinley. Fine, if you want to read the Disney version of B & B all over again. I had to repent after being annoyed all the way through the book when I discovered that the Disney version was based on McKinley’s book, not the other way around. If only I had read it before I saw Miss-Provincial-Life-Disneyesque-Belle.

“The Blue Sword” by Robin McKinley. This book is so not my friend. I don’t want to rehash all the reasons; let’s just leave it that I don’t recommend it AT ALL.

“The Hero & The Crown” by Robin McKinley. On the other hand, THIS book is my friend. It was the most enjoyable read I’ve had in awhile. The romance even mostly worked for me. Because of this book I’d read McKinley again.

“Larklight” by Phillip Reeve. Okay, I said the above book was the most enjoyable because I hadn’t read this one yet. If books were men I’d be in love with this one. Well, I don’t know if I’d be in love romantically speaking, or in love as in wanting to take it home and be it’s mommy. What an inventive, brilliant, super fun flight of fantasy! I can’t wait to read more by Reeve. Days later I was still giggling over some of the lines, and still mulling over some of the deeper themes explored in this YA novel. Five stars!

“Purity & Passion” by Wendy Watson (Nelson). Third time through. It’s that good.

There! It may take me an obscenely long time to trudge through Jane Austen, but hopefully I’ve at least partially redeemed shreds of my literary reputation (not that the books listed above qualify me as much of a literary person. They are, however, proof that I do read from time to time).

I’m taking Sense and Sensibility with me this week as my in-flight reading. If I can’t polish off a dull book in dull airports, there is officially no hope. Wish me luck.

PS--Send me your gems for the JA challenge in my last post! I found a cool prize and the perfect person to choose a winner, so give me enough lines to make her job hard ;).

Sense and Sensibility Insanity

2009-02-17T09:49:00.000-08:00

Sense and Sensibility is quite possibly the most boring book I've ever read. I haven't posted because I’ve rather assumed that no one is interested in reviewing my progress through Sense and Sensibility, as it would go something like this:

Page 69: SS is so dull.

Page 94: SS is so dull.

Page 108: SS is so dull.

Page 121: Did I mention that SS is extremely dull? And this Edward gives the name a bad—and very dull—taste.

Nor would you care that this book is so extremely dull that I’ve been forced to rethink the entire Jane Austen experiment, wondering what masochistic urge made me think it would be a good idea to attempt surviving even one JA tome, let alone six. My conclusion: I am obscenely pig-headed, to a really ridiculous degree. Even though it may just kill me, I WILL read every single one of these blasted books.

However, SS is becoming deathly, to the point that I can’t justify continuing to read it unless I liven things up a bit.

Here’s your challenge:

Choose one of the following lines from the book and complete it in a much more lively and INTERESTING fashion. Example: “Poor thing—she looks very bad (original line). Indeed, if I had her face I should keep myself indoors during all day hours and full moons. She is a living warning for the wisdom of judicious cosmetic application” (new line). PS--feel free to do more than one if inspiration strikes, and please feel free to share the fun and pass the challenge to witty friends :).

Post your completed line as a comment or email it me. I’ll include them all in a new post, and most certainly award prizes for the most dastardly/brilliant/clever lines. Isn’t this WAY more fun than reading Sense and Sensibility?

1.) “I was afraid you would think I was taking a great liberty with you—“

2.) “It is a beautiful country, but these bottoms must be dirty in winter”

3.) “I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful”

4.) “If he were ever animated enough to be in love, must have long outlived every sensation of the kind—“

Forget Janie; I'll Stick With Junie

2009-02-06T08:49:00.000-08:00

We have discovered the wonder of Junie B. Jones at our house. In honor of the coming holiday, we read "Junie B. Jones and the Mushy Gushy Valentime" yesterday. And it happened! It really happened! Little flickers of something twittery flashed from the ashes of my cold, cold heart.

"He rocked back and forth on his feet very bashful.

'You make Room Nine sparky,' he said kind of quiet.

After that, he smiled very cute. And he poked my arm with his finger. And he made a sparky sound. 'Zzzt!' he said. 'Zzzzt! Zzzzt!'

I laughed very loud. And I sparked him right back. 'Zzzt! Zzzzt!' I said.

And so guess what? Then me and that silly guy started chasing each other all over Room Nine. And we kept poking and sparking! And it was the funnest game I ever even heard of!"

So, maybe Jane Austen doesn't do it for me. I don't really want to think about what it might mean that I found more romance in kindergarten lit. But I think Junie B. is on to something. Really, doesn't every woman want to make some man's world all sparky? And whether you're five or thirty-five, poking and sparking IS the funnest game ever (sorry--couldn't resist that one).

Some of You Will Appreciate This...

2009-01-26T08:22:00.000-08:00

the rest will be as confused as I am.

From "Seeking Enlightenment Hat by Hat: A Skeptic's Path to Religion," by Nevada Barr (the February "It's-Not-a-Book-Club" shindig-thingy book--Friday, Feb. 2oth, 8:30, my house, if you're interested):

"My friend Debra once defined optimism as walking into a bookstore thinking 'hey, maybe there'll be a new Jane Austen' " (23).

1.) I feel betrayed by Nevada Barr--I never would have pegged her for a JA lover. And if SHE, Ms. Dark & Twisted & Absolutely-NOT-Romantic-In-Any-Way Suspense Author, gets this whole JA thing, I'm really screwed (up).

2.) Um, is it just me or is there a difference between optimism and just plain stupid? Optimism would be walking into a bookstore thinking, 'hey--making J.K. Rowling decided to add another volume to the HP series,' or 'hey, maybe Stephenie Meyers published a graphic novel version of Twilight.' This is optimistic because both JK & Stephenie are STILL ALIVE, and therefore there is always the chance, however teeny, that your optimism could be justified and it might actually happen. But hoping for a 200-years dead author to suddenly pop off with a new addition to the canon strikes me as more on the 'stupid' end of the optimism spectrum.

3.) So, is this brand of 'optimism' a hallmark of JA fans? Because that would explain why I can't seem to share the joy. It would also make me feel better about not enjoying the books so much...

4.) Blogging out loud: maybe this is a tad bit personal for me because the MFKAMH frequently called me a pessimist. I prefer to think of it as pragmatic realism, and his brand of optimism as 'living in la-la land.' And really, which one is a happier place to be? If I expect the worst, 99% of the time I'll be delightfully surprised by just how joyful life actually is. If you live in la-la land and honestly think that maybe one of these days there will be a new JA, or the money fairies will give you millions of dollars just because you're so darn cute, or your wife will somehow never find out what's really going on...well, dang--you're just setting yourself up for chronic disappointment. Personally, I'd rather be surprised by joy. Mmm...that sounds like a C.S. Lewis title. Oh wait--it IS a C.S. Lewis title. Now there's an author I can enjoy anytime. I can read him on a plane, I can read him on a train, I can read him in the dark, I can read him on a lark, I can read him with a moose, I can read him just like Suess.

Okay, I'll stop now.

Musings on Sense & Sensibility Thus Far

2009-01-21T13:11:00.000-08:00

Janie and I are in agreement (kinda):

"He is such a charming man, that it is quite a pity he should be so grave and dull" (77).

Amen, sister! Why, oh why, does Jane Austen believe that boring = appealing? I'm on page 93 of Sense and Sensibility, and I don't believe I've ever read more dull 'romantic heroes' than Edward Ferrars and Colonel Brandon. I can't even think of anything funny or remotely witty to say about them because they are just so blah.

Goodness, virtue, kindness, and rectitude are necessary in Romantic Guy-Types, but it is possible to be all those things AND at least a tiny bit interesting, too.

Shall I note that one on my Future Guy list? "Must have at least a speck of humor, a wee bit of charm, and a smidgen of personality, in addition to all the essential virtues." Is this asking too much? Are my expectations too high? Am I completely unrealistic and unreasonable?

I confess, at this point my sympathies are more with Marianne.

Catch-up on "Clueless"

2009-01-15T13:38:00.000-08:00

Confession: I'm on page 66 of Sense & Sensibility, and I kinda want to blog about it thus far, but I feel compelled to wrap up Emma completely before moving on, and that means covering Clueless from last Friday. Random observations:

1.) I was highly distracted from the movie by having so many of my favorite people all in the same room at the same time.

2.) That sugar stuff on the truffles was a touch of divine inspiration.

3.) I think I prefer the tahini recipe of hummus better than the olive oil one, although the OO one certainly hit the spot.

4.) Alicia Silverstone has a weird mouth. Not bad-weird, just "I-can't-exactly-figure-out-what-it-is" weird.

5.) Stacey Dash is GORGEOUS. Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so. I just did a quick search for a pic to include in this post and most of them are semi-porno nudie shots with a hand covering strategic places. Well. I'll give her gorgeous; modest is apparently another issue.

6.) Hehe. Turk was in that movie. Turk with braces. I love Donald Faison. In a brother way. Like a cute, annoying little brother way.

7.) The convoluted relationship created to explain how the psuedo-Knightely could be sort of like a brother, yet not, didn't really work for me. Neither did the age gap. Neither did that whole relationship. But if anyone could have pulled it off, Alicia Silverstone could have done it. I was impressed in spite of myself.

8.) I'm still cracking up. During the 'bedroom' scene, Eric and I were feeling empathy for two totally different characters, for two totally different reasons. So cute!

9.) All said, it was a pretty clever, fun adaptation of Emma. Who knew?

10.) I'm pretty sure I would have turned it off after a few minutes if I were on my own. Being in good company definitely improved the film.

11.) It took me until yesterday to fully catch up on my sleep. Still worth it :)

12.) How cool is it that two of my favorite people were already favorite people together and we didn't even know it??!!! Having friends is great; sharing friends is even better.

Thanks for sharing the adventure--and the cold family room--with me!

Another Jane: "The Scottish Chiefs"

2009-01-13T07:48:00.000-08:00

If goodness and virtue are the primary measuring sticks for my Romantic Ideal, this book had 'em in spades. Ms. Porter has some high ideals for romantic love, and I found myself mostly nodding along in agreement.

"Love, true heaven-born love, that pure affection which unites congenial spirits here, and with which the Creator will hereafter connect in one blest fraternity the whole kindred of mankind, has but one cause, The universal fairness of its object!--that bright perfection, which speaks of unchangeableness and immortality; a something so excellent, that the simple wish to partake of its essence, in the union of affection, to facilitate and to share its attainmentof true and lasting happiness, invigorates our virtue, and inspires our souls. These are the aims and joys of real love. It has nothing selfish: in every desire it soars above this earth; and anticipates, as the ultimatum of tis joy, the moment it shall meet its partner before the throne of God" (570).

I can't do justice to the book in this brief and limited review. It is well worth reading for the historical perspective and literary experience; I found it a fascinating saturation in gender identity, sexuality, concepts of self vs. community, nationalism, and pre-feminism. For purposes of this blog, however, I'll focus exclusively on how the book does or does not match my Romantic Ideal Personified in Fiction, or in other words, what does this book teach me about the Future Guy?

I've gotta say, I was right there with Ms. Jane Porter-Author-Lady, and William Wallace was looking mighty fine, right up to the very end. Nearing page 700, Willie and Helen finally get together, in true High-Flown-Ideal-Love fashion, with a prison cell/death bed marriage proposal. They know they only have a few days together as husband and wife before Willie-boy heads to the scaffold. So they sleep together. And by this I mean, literally SLEEP together. She falls asleep on his breast; he falls asleep in her arms. And that's it. Oh, in between long and flowery speeches about the purity of their love. This is not just a period convention from the authoress--she makes it very clear that absolutely no hanky-panky is going on. Their love is so pure and righteous and perfect that physical consummation would just be wrong. Willie refers to her as his "virgin bride," and Helen rapturously raves over the *blessing* of having her marriage bed also be her death bed. They refer to each other again and again as brother and sister (which kinda turned my stomach a bit, I've got to say), and thank God for this honorable and virtuous (read--sexless) love they share.

I'm all for purity, virtue, goodness, honor...the whole shebang. Without them, relationships--most especially marital relationships--are worthless. But I'm just not buying the whole "no-sex" thing.

To quote someone far wiser and with far greater authority in these matters than myself:

"...Human intimacy is reserved for a married couple because it is the ultimate symbol of total union, a totality and a union ordained and defined by God...physical intimacy is not only a symbolic union between a husband and a wife—the very uniting of their souls—but it is also symbolic of a shared relationship between them and their Father in Heaven. He is immortal and perfect. We are mortal and imperfect. Nevertheless we seek ways even in mortality whereby we can unite with Him spiritually. In so doing we gain some access to both the grace and the majesty of His power. Those special moments include kneeling at a marriage altar in the house of the Lord, blessing a newborn baby, baptizing and confirming a new member of the Church, partaking of the emblems of the Lord’s Supper, and so forth. These are moments when we quite literally unite our will with God’s will, our spirit with His spirit, where communion through the veil becomes very real. At such moments we not only acknowledge His divinity but we quite literally take something of that divinity to ourselves" (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, “Personal Purity,” Ensign, Nov 1998, 75)

I'm tempted to expound on this thought, but I think I'll just let it rest.

Good read, though. Lessons to file away in Wendy's Romantic Ideal File:
Purity, goodness, selflessness = Very Good Things.
Marital sex = Also a Very Good Thing.

Willie-boy is so, so, so very close to the Romantic Ideal. I really thought he was it. But, as I told Ms. Becky, if I ever brave wedded bliss again I DEFINITELY expect some sheet dancing--this celibate-marriage stuff is a load of hooey!

Clueless Reminder

2009-01-07T11:53:00.000-08:00

Just a quick reminder & disclaimer:

Clueless, my house, this Friday, 8:30pm. Email or call if you need directions. Bring food if you want, but don't feel obligated--this isn't a potlucked-refreshment type of activity.

Normally I never bother apologizing for my house because I figure that if you are visiting me, you are my friend and you A.) know that housecleaning is rather far down the list of my priorities, B.) like me anyway, and C.) are used to it. But given the complete blitz-o of snow we've had recently, and the hours upon hours I've spent shoveling snow instead of, say, doing dishes and laundry, or even more essential things like showering and sleeping, it's looking bad even by my standards. And yes, the Christmas tree is still up.

Ignore the house. Come watch Clueless and enjoy good--albeit slightly snooty--company :).

A Diversion from Jane

2009-01-05T12:30:00.000-08:00

Since the over-arching purpose to this noble quest was to determine what exactly in fiction hits my romance bone (assuming that I have one), I have been working in a few diversions to Ms. Jane along the way.

To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis didn't do much for my romance bone but it did tickle my funny bone, and even better garnered a few appreciative grins and chuckles just for the sheer pleasure of reading something so cleverly intelligent disguised as your basic sci-fi/fantasy/time-travel/whatever the heck genre you'd call it.

On the "romance" side, it offered these little gems:

"Even lying there with her greenish-brown eyes closed and her mouth half-open, drooling gently onto a mildewed boat cushion, she was still the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen" (231).

"I'm completely recovered. I don't find you attractive at all" (260).

"He refused, we quarreled, and he threw me in the river, and then he kissed me, and oh, Mama, it was so romantic!" (379)

I just started "The Scottish Chiefs" by Jane Porter, on Trenya's recommendation for feeling twitterpated. That 700+ page book of teeny, weeny print is somewhat daunting.

Onward and upward!

Warning: This Post is Rated P for Sexual Innuendo (Betcha Want to Know What P Stands For)

2009-01-02T11:51:00.000-08:00

I can't lay Emma to rest until I survive Alicia Silverstone in Clueless. Such a thing should not be attempted alone. As I said to a friend likewise untouched by Alicia S, "Let's be Clueless virgins together and lose our innocence in a group setting. Oh wait, that didn't come out quite right..."

Therefore, slacker that I am, we're skipping the sparkling, witty, and clever (read: pretentious and snobby) literary salon for January in favor of Emma dressed up in Hollywood's version of teen angst. Besides, I need an excuse to mop my floor since last month's shindig.

My house, Friday, January 9, 8:30pm. Bring cushions, pillows, blankets, and any other creature comforts desired, as my family room contains one lumpy futon and a hard wooden rocker and sometimes gets so cold that I avoided that level of the house entirely for months after watching Sixth Sense. Rumor has it that the Divine Miss B might bring her World-Famous Chocolate Truffles, but I'm not telling anyone that because I like our small, intimate, and snobby gatherings, and being overrun by the entire neighborhood would be so plebian. Though understandable, if you've had the truffles.

PS--come even if your Clueless virginity was lost long ago. We'll engage in verbal intercourse, strictly parthenogenetically speaking.

Random Thoughts While Watching Two Different Film Versions of "Emma"

2008-12-29T11:14:00.000-08:00

The A & E version totally sucks.
Jeremy Northam makes Knightley a slightly more endearing character than I perceived from reading the book. He's mildly cute, too. If he had been a tad taller I probably would have lusted after him.
The A & E version of Knightley (I'm too lazy to google it and get his name) was something like if Tim Burton directed Jane Austen and morphed "Nightmare Before Emma" into "Headless in the Garden of England." What's the opposite of eye candy? An emetic? Because that's what he was.
Poor Miss Bates.
I wonder if I should attempt watching "Clueless" now?
Toni Collette is on my top ten list of best actresses ever. Has she ever, ever failed to completely nail a performance? I think not.
Both versions chopped up some of my favorite lines. The condensed version just isn't the same.
Gwyneth Paltrow cracks me up. In a good way. Especially when she cries.
Does that make me a bad person?
I'm slobbering covetously over all those gorgeous dresses. They'd work better if I had Gwyneth's body to wear them...
Julia Stiles looks so much like Elise it's just plain scary. Oh wait--that was the other movie I watched that day. Still, scary.

JA Man of My Dreams (hint: it's not Knightley)

2008-12-23T12:42:00.001-08:00

The initial question that sparked this literary quest was: who is the most romantic fictional protagonist to rock my world, or in other words, which literary hero sparks some fuzzy-wuzzy sentiment in my cold, loveless heart?

This, of course, begs a larger question, which is: what exactly constitutes attractiveness and desirability to me?

I don't know the answer; hence this little textual romp through JA. In trying to answer that question before I began reading any of the books I was able to come up with only one thing. One. Just one.

Goodness.

Don't you think simple, pure goodness is pretty much the sexiest thing out there? Or even setting aside sexy, it's just attractive, in people of both genders, all ages, regardless of physical traits or more superficial markers. Not that those things aren't important; but as Jane says "Where I have a regard, I always think a person well-looking" (161). I'm drawn to people who are bone-deep good. I love to be around them, love to learn from them, love to help them, be helped by them, and especially love to be loved by them. Fortunately, my life is filled to overflowing with good and wonderful people--I swim in a veritable ocean of goodness, or maybe the metaphor should be that I'm the island of mediocrity in the ocean of goodness :). I must politely disagree with Emma's early opinion, "We do not often look upon fine young men, well-bred and agreeable. We must not be nice and ask for all the virtues in the bargain" (138). Personally, I rather think the virtues supersede everything else.

Since I haven't come up with much on my list for the Future Guy, goodness and virtue will have to be my primary measuring stick for Mr. Knightley. How does Emma's lover boy stack up? In my completely subjective and biased read:

1.) Ch. 26 "I know of no man more likely than Mr. Knightley to do the sort of thing--to do any thing really good-natured, useful, considerate, or benevolent. He is not a gallant man, but he is a very humane one... for an act of unostentatious kindness, there is nobody whom I would fix on more than on Mr. Knightley" (205). Of course Emma is biased because she's in love with Knightley even if she doesn't know it yet. But I did find my opinion shifting around page 205, and Knightley became somewhat less annoying and slightly more appealing. Okay, fine. I was totally impressed by his quiet kindnesses to the Bates women, Harriet Smith, Robert Martin and others. I heartily approve. Kindness without any reward or recognition is definitely attractive. Cute, even.

2.) Ch. 18 "There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chuses, and that is, his duty' not by maneuvering and finessing, but by rigor and resolution... respect for right conduct is felt by everybody" (136-7). So maybe Knightley has a stick up his backside sometimes; he never pretends to be anything he's not. He lives what he believes and sticks to his moral code. That is admirable, a commendable virtue. Even with a little bit of boring rectitude. Integrity is a total turn-on.

3.) Ch. 45 "He took her hand, pressed it, and was certainly on the point of carrying it to his lips--when, from some fancy or other, he suddenly let go... the intention, however, was indubitable; and whether it was that his manners had in general so little gallantry, or however else it happened, but she thought nothing became him more" (356).
So unexpectedly delightful, the warm fuzzies that filled my heart whist reading this warm and affectionate exchange. Puzzling, too. It's probably the most clean-cut love scene EVER. It's mostly subtext from everything leading up to this point. Nothing even happens--no lip-hand contact, let alone anything more intense. Why on earth did I think, "Awwwww." as I read it? I had to cogitate deeply and carefully to understand the Knightley effect here. Ms. Emma expressed it perfectly: "There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. There is nothing to be compared to it. Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner, will beat all the clearness of head in the world, for attraction" (247). I agree most wholeheartedly. A couple of lines later I was chagrined to have another 'I am Emma; Emma is me" moment, when Em continues, "I have it not--but know how to prize and respect it" (247). Ouch.

Knightley carries the day when it comes to being a decent guy. BUT (you knew there would be a 'but') he doesn't do it for me.

The biggest thing I can't get over is the pseudo-parent/child relationship he and Emma have going on. It's not attractive, it's not a turn-on (quite the opposite), and I can't write it off as a product of the time period (sorry, Becks) because this is all about likening Jane to me. The age difference alone is not the issue, speaking as someone who married a man 12 years my senior (and the cynical part of my brain says 'look how well that turned out'), or if it is part of the issue, I'm in denial. I can't envision a lifetime of marital bliss for a couple who has a long-established pattern of husbandly scolding/chastising/reproving and wifely impudence/sassiness/childishness. Am I the only one who wanted to throw up when Knightley confesses that he has "been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least" (427). Gah!

Lessons learned: Kindness, Integrity, and Tenderness= Attractiveness. This is a good thing. Bossy Acting Like a Parent in a Romantic Relationship = Yuck.

Einey, meiney, miney mo, and Knightley is not it.

JA Birthday Challenge

2008-12-18T14:21:00.001-08:00

Ms. Austen's birthday apparently took place earlier this week. If she were still alive she'd be 570-some years old, or something like that. My birthday also takes place this week, and I will be nowhere near 570-some years old. Not even if you take one of those digits off either end. Still not close.

I don't think it's coincidence that the birthdays of two such obviously talented and intelligent women are celebrated so close together. Since Ms. Jane is no longer of this earth, which leaves me as the sole birthday royalty for this week (of this blog, anyway), I am hereby issuing a joint challenge to honor the birthday girls.

Number one: to honor Ms. Janie, use one of the following words in a verbal (not online, not texting) conversation today:

cogitation
partiality
amiable

Number two: to honor the blog author, apply these words of wisdom from Emma herself, "I always deserve the best treatment, because I never put up with any other." Do something to spoil yourself rotten.

As a pathological over-achiever, I am planning to use all three words in casual conversation before the end of the week, and on Saturday I'm spending a few hours at the day spa because I always deserve the best treatment.

I expect you to report back with your own rising to the challenge.

Happy Birthday to us!

The Emma Conversation

2008-12-17T10:34:00.000-08:00

This is the novel-length comment that turned into an email that has now turned into a conversation/blogpost. With permission from the illustrious author and Instigator of This Whole JA Mess, Ms. Becky, here is our more serious treatment of "Emma." Feel free to jump in. Italicized portions are from Becky.

Emma likes to play at life and love but doesn't know what it is to really live and love. It's not till she allows her heart to be touched that she gains some sense. Life and love are things based on theories for her and she tries to put them to practice with her live dolls, Miss Smith, Mr. Elton, and Miss Taylor. She does good things and performs all of the outward appearances of goodness but doesn't really ever benefit from what it is to be truly charitable until she accidentally loses her polished façade. She lives on the surface of life, never fully partaking of all that lies within. She reminds me of a geology teacher who only talks about rocks but has never actually dug one up. Mr. Knightly is the only one who can save her from herself and it's a process which involves a lot of humility.

At first I wanted to argue with the last sentence, on the basis that 1.) I hate the thought that there is only ONE perfect fit for each person, and therefore would reject that Mr. Knightley is the only potential source for Emma's happiness; and 2.) I also hate the "lover-as-savior" model that implies we're incapable of becoming fully formed humans on our own and require someone else to complete us. Let me rephrase that, because in one sense, we do need others to complete us. We don't need--and indeed, it would be impossible for--another mortal to save us. Only One has the power to fill that role. However, I don't think you are taking it to the extreme I did, and so overall, I probably agree with you. Here's why:

For whatever reasons, and regardless of how questionable I find some of them, Emma has given her heart to Knightley, even before she realizes that she's done it. In that sense, he is the only one who can help her move outside of herself, because he's the only person she cares enough for to make that connection. Who knows whether, over the course of a lifetime, he truly is/was the ONLY person who could fill that role--what matters is that right then, for Emma, he is.

What disturbs me is his parentified role with Emma. Combine that with "saving Emma" from herself, a sixteen year age difference, the fact that he helped raise her--and it plays much more like a parent-child relationship than a partnering romantic relationship. My therapist would not approve. Really, given their history, can they truly ever create a marriage of equals? They have a long-established pattern of Knightley correcting, reproving, chastening, and of Emma being saucy/impudent/sassy alternately with contrite/abject/grateful. It just doesn't strike me as very emotionally healthy, although I'll be the first to acknowledge that I'm not the best judge of either healthy marriages or healthy emotional states right now. That's why I'm reading the books!

If one were to ask me, I'd say that Jane Austen is the queen of characterization. You truly understand in one sentence the essence of a person's character. She makes a point of pointing out the follies of every character and none of them come out at all perfect. Every character also seems to have a redeeming quality of some sort, some are very small, but still there. Her characters are real and could be like any set of people we know today, new cast and setting, there can still be a Mr. Darcy and an Elizabeth Bennett. I am always comparing her characters to people I know in real life. I rarely find myself doing that with the rest of the books I read.

I have to admit, the first 100 pages or so were pretty difficult to plow through. Once I got further into the book, and more familiar with Ms. Austen's style, I was blown away by her intricate and precise characterization. I found myself several times thinking that her books should be required reading for any aspiring writer. I can think of very few writers today who could match her skill in fleshing out character.

She also has some wonderful and wise sayings which sometimes come out of the most unlikely mouths. Mary, in Pride and Prejudice has some great lines, but it seems she is the one most in need of hearing them. She is very charitable with her characters, the idiotic as well as with the very nasty ones like Mr. Wickham, Lord Bertram, and Mr. Willoughby. Sometimes it comes out in the fact that they experience some sort of living regret for their actions, therefore allowing the reader to pity them for their bad choices.

1.) I've already started a JA Quote Log, because there are just so many goodies. I comfort myself with the thought that even if I end up judging this JA quest to be a total waste of time, at least I'll have loads of good quotes from the deal.

2.) Her compassion for her characters is probably why she's so skilled at writing them. That, and a keen awareness of human foibles, since every character is flawed to one extent or another. Just like real life!

So, yes, she is a master at displaying human nature with all of their variances. In Emma she writes: "One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other." ch. 9 p. 76 which sums up the need to have understanding and patience with each other's follies and perceptions of the world. I know that in some situations I am very much like Emma, acting with hidden condescension toward those with whom I think I are not making the best choices. All I can say is that Miss Austen certainly has some of my character flaws nailed.

I was actually planning to use that quote to describe my feelings about JA in general! It had the ring of a nice blogpost title to it...More than half the female world seems to derive a pleasure that I don't understand from Ms. Austen's books, so I will own her correct on that one. I also think you are probably more charitable than I am, if you act with hidden condescension toward those whose choices aren't up to snuff. My condescension, judgmental criticism, and self-righteous longsuffering is rarely hidden :). About as much as Emma's was hidden, which is to say, not much at all. And ouch--there is the rub. I am Emma; Emma is me. I had several uncomfortable moments of recognition throughout the book when I saw myself staring up from the pages.

A Higher Purpose

2008-12-16T09:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday in Relief Society the teacher challenged us each to follow Joseph Smith's counsel and increase our knowledge by doing something new, something we'd never done before, that would take us out of our comfort zone. She had some great suggestions, like cooking classes or studying a particular gospel topic, or learning new scrapbooking techniques.

My friend Christy leaned over and whispered, "Or, for example, you could read all of Jane Austen's novels."

After I got over the initial "worlds-colliding" shock (what?! My blog is being quoted back to me in Relief Society? It seems like a vague kind of sacrilege--whether to RS or my blog I'm not sure), I decided that she's absolutely right. And here I thought my reasons for reading Jane Austen were completely self-centered (albeit masochistic), inane, and pointless.

I'm now claiming a Higher Purpose. Joseph Smith apparently told us to increase our knowledge. In this past General Relief Society Conference President Uchtdorf counseled the sisters to be more creative. Reading the books may not apply, but I'm counting this blog as an outlet for my cynical, mocking--and occasionally semi-serious--creativity.

There you have it--other people may read Jane Austen for pleasure; I'm doing it in all my self-righteous glory because I follow the prophet. Betcha didn't know JA counted.

I am Emma; Emma is Me, Part II

2008-12-15T12:30:00.000-08:00

"I always deserve the best treatment, because I never put up with any other" (Chapter 54).

Enough said.

(Did you notice that was chapter 54? As in, second to the last chapter in the book? Dare I admit that I finished JA number one?)

Why We Need Jane

2008-12-11T14:55:00.000-08:00

It hurts me to say this, but apparently the world really, REALLY needs a good, strong dose of Jane Austen. I'm referring to the verbal skills and literary fluency of her characters, her male characters in particular. Quite possibly we women could also benefit from the verbose example
0f her feminine heroines, but for purposes of this post, let's talk men.

This is a composite post/tag line/intro from a composite male in my age range, in my geographic vicinity, found on an online dating site. I'm not making any of this up--I only blended it together to avoid unfairly targeting one specific person.

shut up and fish. hello ladys! im a tattoist an ummm im not very good at this things. Pick me! pick me! im looking for a plutonical relashionship or freinship or maybe something more. im looking 4 someun to cher my lif and b a mother to my beeutiful lille girl so as i can get her out of state custody and haf her N a reul home an we can b a family together. i'm llokin 4 a forgiving woman with a heart, not lik those **tches and man hateers out there--ive had enuf of that 4 a liftim.

I know what you're thinking: with gems like this out there, why am I wasting my time reading Jane Austen and blogging about the lack of romance in my life?

Shh....

2008-12-09T09:48:00.000-08:00

Don't tell anyone, but Santa is bringing Mansfield Park and Northanger Abbey to my Christmas stocking, c/o amazon.com. This doesn't mean I am expecting to like JA--I just figured it was wiser to own the books instead of racking up fines from the library since it takes me so long to get through them. Admittedly, I am rather picky about which books actually take up bookshelf space, let alone are worth hard earned cash. Don't read anything into this.

I am Emma; Emma is Me

2008-12-08T09:10:00.000-08:00

Apparently I have some sentiment in common with Ms. Emma:

"My being charming is not quite enough to induce me to marry; I must find other people charming--one other person at least. And I am not only, not going to be married, at present, but have very little intention of ever marrying at all. I must see somebody very superior to any one I have seen yet, to be tempted; I would rather not be tempted. I cannot really change for the better. If I were to marry, I must expect to repent it." (chapter 10)

Oh dear.

What I Did Last Night Instead of Reading Jane Austen

2008-12-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

1.) Watched White Christmas with the kiddos on the futon (THANK YOU, Keith & Kevin! I am so, so, so very tempted to plagarize my favorite blogger Mommacita's extremely hilarious post about her buff and manly home teachers who help move furniture, but I wouldn't want anyone to misunderstand, so I will refrain. I'll still giggle to myself, though).

2.) brought the checkbook up to date

3.) washed, dried, folded, and put away three loads of laundry

4.) graded a few papers. I can hear the shocked gasps from my students from here. Very funny.

5.) put all the kids to bed--together--and sang them Christmas songs until they fell asleep to the glow of a multicolored fiber-optic angel on the wall. Momminess = ultimate happiness.

6.) swept the kitchen floor

7.) considered cleaning the bathroom but decided it's not gross enough yet

8.) had a great workout on the treadmill

9.) glanced over at the bed, saw Emma waiting for me and decided to throw in 20 situps, a few stretches, and ten minutes of yoga

10.) took a nice long shower that involved things like actually shaving my legs, because it's time for my annual physical this afternoon and somehow shaving your legs just seems like a polite thing to do, as if having freshly shaven legs will make up for the less pleasant things a doctor must see and do in the course of a yearly checkup.

Finally gave in and read Emma until I fell asleep on page 104. Observations will be forthcoming in a later post.

Misery Loves Company

2008-12-03T09:03:00.000-08:00

Okay, all my fellow anti-JA readers, time to take a deep breath and come out of the closet (yes, volerum, that was for you because after our conversation last night I just couldn't resist the rite of passage reference).

I triple dog dare you guys to read JA with me. Man, I need to watch Christmas Story! It's been at least four months since I chortled along with Ralphie shooting his eye out. But I digress...

I feel some serious guilt pangs challenging anyone to read Emma with me. It's kind of like when something bad happens to you and you are so relieved to find other people who have survived the same bad thing and you get together and work through all your 'junk' together and get all bonded and lovey and stuff, but at the same time you would never, ever WISH for that bad thing to happen to someone just so you could have this deeper little relationship of understanding each other. Is it really ethical for me to INVITE other people to join my misery?

No coercion, no manipulation, no bribes. But think how much fun it would be if we could all share the drudgery! The lively online discussions! The snuggly-wuggly feeling of knowing that, as you slog through page 153, there are others on the planet who are feeling your pain. Or maybe we'll have a mass conversion to JA fandom and we could create some weird cultish ritual to celebrate our initiation. My twisted mind is already having fun with that one.

Come join the fun :).
[if you were sitting on the couch across from me right now you could hear my evil laugh].

Emma: page 67

2008-12-02T16:02:00.000-08:00

Emma is that uber-annoying girl in high school I always tried to avoid, not because I hated her; rather because getting anywhere in a three mile radius around her meant potentially being sucked into her patronizing and self-righteous drama.

Don't even get me started on the "love interest" in this book. I'll just say this: a good friend who shall remain anonymous let it slip once that her special nickname for her dear hubby is a variation on this particular JA Romantic Hero's name. That was Too Much Information at the time, and now that I'm actually reading Emma, I want to puke whenever I see this anonymous friend's husband. Which is generally every morning at the bus stop. There--now those of you who are my neighbors can puke, too.

It's been over two weeks and I've read three other books start to finish, yet still only on page 67 of Emma. The other night I looked at my bedside table and saw Emma alongside Harvard Business Review. I'm still on page 67 of Emma, so you can guess which one won out. HBR has mighty interesting articles sometimes.