Saturday, April 04, 2009


I adore because it brought back my reading habits. I used to be a big reader as a kid, and in high school I'd read four to six books a week for one of my classes. I'm a fast reader, too. This guy tested my reading habilities once and said I have 100% reading comprehension. That's how I roll.

Anyway, somewhere along the way I stopped reading books and became an avid online article collector. I'd print interesting stories at the office and read them in the subway on my way home. One day, bored out of my mind, I ventured into and started browsing books. Nothing too intellectual. Chelsea Handler. I added both her books to my shopping cart just to fool around, but then I found Nick Thornby and Rob Sheffield. I ended up with Songbook and Love is a Mix Tape in my cart as well. I've been the oblivious owner of a credit card for a year now, and I've never used it. I figured now was a good time to start. I ordered the books and forgot all about them a week later.

Last week I came home to find a box on my bed. I opened it and found my order. I immediately picked up Chelsea Handler's My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands and finished it the next day. Before I started with the next book I wanted to finish The War of Art (a birthday gift from a friend), and after I did I picked up Are you there, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea. I was done with it in two days. Then it was time for Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. It just hit me that as of last week I've read four books. I'm still reading Love is a Mix Tape, and I don't wanna finish it because it's too damn good and oh-so very sad. I think I'll start Songbook on Monday.

Three minutes ago I ordered six more books. I realized that shipping costs amounted to the same money my four books were on my first order, so I decided to make the shipping costs worth it and squeeze them for all they had. This time around I ordered books I've always wanted to read. The titles are The Book of Other People, Fight Club, High Fidelity, This is Not a Love Song, King Dork and The Rules of Attraction.

What can I say? I'm catching up on my reading.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

A Few Words of Wisdom

Over the past two weeks I've devoured both of Chelsea Handler's books, My Horizontal Life: a Collection of One-Night Stands and Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea. Now, I got the books expecting to have a laugh, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined drawing life lessons from Miss Handler's tales.

The following excerpt can be found in Are You There, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea, in the chapter entitled Re-Gift, page 180, and I can only wish I'd gotten my hands on this baby back when people invented stupid e-mail chains about bad luck and love and angels and true friendship. Because everyone knows that if you don't forward one of those e-mails you'll end up alone eating your own toe nails.

"I understand if people want to e-mail me pictures of their babies by themselves, but there is no way I'm going to join Kodak's photo gallery to look at a picture of someone's pet standing by itself in front of Niagara Falls. This is not the first time this has happened to me, and I was actually pleased because I had gathered the materials necessary to respond appropriately. I clicked reply and sent Morgan a picture of my cleaning lady. Standing next to the toilet, alone. I attached a message that read, "Not interested? Me neither."

I was in the subway when I read this, and I exploded into fits of laughter. It was rush hour and I knew people were giving me weird looks, but I just couldn't help myself. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I started to sweat and I had to literally wipe my forehead and have some water because my idiotic giggles got out of hand. And let me tell you something: when I find something very funny my laugh is not subtle. It's loud and high-pitched and there's always some snorting to be expected. My body shakes and I bend over and back and I get all red, and for a while there are no real sounds coming out of my mouth because I'm trying to catch my breath but I still look like I'm laughing really loud.

I tried to move on to the next page, but my head kept going back to the above paragraph and I kept on laughing. I showed the excerpt to my dad and he laughed as well. I translated it to one of my friends and she immediately changed her Google Chat status to "Chelsea rules!!!" I can only hope this will start a series of dumb e-mails with my friends which will consist on sending stupid pictures to each other and write "Not interested? Me neither" on the body.