What I read: "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak

Recommended to me by several people, "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak ranks among the best books I've read this year. I had put the book on hold at the library and waited a couple weeks, even though the library's Web site showed several available. When I went to look again, I found that the library keeps this book on the teen shelf. Thinking I wasn't in the mood for a "teen" book, I almost skipped it.

But at a Christmas party, my friend loaned me her copy -- practically forcing it into my hands. Thank goodness she did.

"The Book Thief" was nearly impossible to put down. It's one of those books you can't stop reading, can't wait to see what happens next, yet hope never ends. Finishing the book, I found myself wanting to turn back to page one and start over.

Like the characters in his book, Zusak paints vivid images with his words.

"Their glasses chimed together and the moment Liesel raised it to her mouth, she was bitten by the fizzy, sickly sweet taste of champagne. Her reflexes forced her to spit straight onto her papa's overalls, watching it foam and dribble. A shot of laughter followed from all of them, and Hans encouraged her to give it another try. On the second attempt she was able to swallow it, and enjoy the taste of a glorious broken rule. It felt great. The bubbles ate her tongue. They prickled her stomach. Even as they walked to the next job, she could feel the warmth of pins and needles inside her."

Himmel Street and its inhabitants come to life, struggling with each other, what's happening in the world around them and their own inner demons. I knew little about the book before I read it and I don't want to say too much about the plot or the characters because it was such a joy for me to discover them on my own. I hope you can do the same.

Oh

Another beloved performer has passed away.

Eartha Kitt, the self-proclaimed "sex kitten" whose sultry voice and catlike purr attracted fans even as she neared 80, has died. The singer, dancer and actress was 81.

I always loved hearing Kitt sing, and she was the Catwoman for me. She even made a great (hilarious) Disney villain as Yzma in "The Emperor's New Groove."

It seems that 2008 has taken a lot of favorites from Paul Newman to Bernie Mac to Heath Ledger to many, many others. Each one reminding me of my own loss while at the same time giving me a bittersweet taste of nostalgia.

Enjoy her rendition of "Santa Baby."

All was merry and bright

Christmas 2008 has been a good one, despite my initial misgivings. I received a care package from my sister-in-law. I spent time with friends and family. We had a great meal of turkey, baked sweet potatoes and green beans with pine nuts. I watched some Christmas movies, including "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and one of the 12 showings of "A Christmas Story."

Thank you to those who made my holiday season better than I thought it could be without my mom. I hope you all had as good a day as I did -- or better.

God bless us, every one.

Where's my brain?

Between the crowds at the grocery store and the lack of breakfast, my mind doesn't seem to be working properly this morning. Maybe I'm reverting back to a little kid -- so excited about Christmas Eve that I can't think straight.

There are several presents under the tree, but only one of them is for me. So it's not the brightly wrapped gifts that have turned my brain mushy. Maybe it's the sweet potato boiling away, getting ready to be whipped into a pie. Maybe it's the gifts I'm going to give. Maybe it's the people I'm going to see later today, with the promise of good food, wine and laughter. I'm sure it's a combination of all of these things.

Here, look at a picture of my cat staring down a hippo. Because my brain has already moved on to other pursuits today.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas nostalgia

Who didn't love the Rankin and Bass Christmas specials? They don't make them like that anymore. ABC Family is showing Christmas movies and specials all month. And just because I don't have kids of mine own doesn't have to mean my inner child is dead.

There have been plenty of things throughout the past two years that have chipped away at my inner child's innocence. But a good Christmas movie seems to be just what the doctor ordered. There's nothing that will melt my cold black heart quite like an old-school Christmas special.

A couple nights ago I recorded "A Year Without Santa Claus." And it's just as wonderfully cheesy as I remember.

Here's Big Bad Voodoo Daddy showing the love.


If you're not feeling the Christmas spirit after that, there's not much I can do for you. You should probably go read "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and check the size of your heart.

And he puzzled and puzzed, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more."

What I drove: Toyota Venza

I recently drove the all-new Toyota Venza, and it's one snazzy crossover. It's sleek and refined and priced well out of my range. But that's what's great about doing test drives. I get to drive luxury and near-luxury vehicles without paying the price -- or having to come up with the extra insurance money.

The Venza is loaded with standard equipment like an eight-way power driver’s seat with lumbar support, power windows with auto up and auto down on all four windows, chrome exhaust tips and an auto-dimming rearview mirror with compass. The V-6 version comes standard with 20-inch alloy wheels, while the four-cylinder version’s standard wheels are 19-inch alloy.

The Toyota Venza is something of a cross between a Toyota Highlander and a Camry, the sales consultant said. It has as much ground clearance as a Highlander but with the agility and comfort of a sedan. With it’s sleek, up-scale design, the Venza should appeal to both the Toyota and the Lexus crowds.

Although the Venza has similar attributes to its Toyota stable mates and its Lexus cousins, it shares no platform with any other model. Toyota built this vehicle from the ground up, putting a lot of thought into ergonomics and ease of use, I was told.

If I had $39,000 burning a hole in my pocket, I might consider driving the Venza. It's a really nice car. But considering the Subaru Forester rings up at nearly $14,000 less and offers many of the same amenities. I'd probably have to go with the Forester.

What I watched: Humbug edition

It started yesterday afternoon with the 1938 version of "A Christmas Carol" on TCM. That version stars Reginald Owens as Ebenezer Scrooge. It's a faithful adaptation, but my favorite, by far, is 1951's "Scrooge" starring Alastair Sim.

While TCM seems to show the 1938 version each year, I can't find any channel showing "Scrooge." But thanks to the magic of YouTube, I was able to watch the entire thing online. (Click the link to watch the first 10 minutes, then watch #2 through #9 for the rest of the film.)

The 1951 movie holds a special place in my heart because one of my hometown television stations showed it every Christmas Eve after the late news. I would beg to stay up and watch, then lie awake, afraid the ghosts would come and show me the error of my ways.

I love this movie and I love the story of "A Christmas Carol." I watch the movie nearly every Christmas season and have read the book multiple times. It's such a wonderful story of redemption -- none of us are past hope if we're still alive. As a child, I didn't understand Dickens' criticism of the debtors' prisons and poorhouses, but I knew what it meant to be charitable and I loved the wonderful scary chills the movie gave me.

My other Christmas favorites are "Prancer" for all its sweet cheesiness (and Sam Elliot!), the animated "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," "A Charlie Brown Christmas" (of course) and "Scrooged."

Put a little love in your heart!

What I read: "Dreams from My Father" by Barack Obama

Our president-elect wrote "Dreams from My Father" back in 1995, shortly after he was elected the first black president of the Harvard Law Review. You can see why I thought this book would be relevant now. Not that everything (or even most of what) I read is relevant.

"Dreams from My Father" is an ambitious book, written by an ambitious young man. And it may have been a bit too ambitious for Obama so early in his career. As he says himself in the Preface to the 2004 edition:

I confess to wincing every so often at a poorly chosen word, a mangled sentence, an expression of emotion that seems indulgent or overly practiced. I have the urge to cut the book by fifty pages or so, possessed as I am with a keener appreciation for brevity.

That said, the book is filled with beautiful images of Obama's childhood in Hawaii and his visit to family in Kenya, as well as a youthful angst based on a search for identity.

Raised by a white mother and grandparents, young Barack never quite fit in. I'm sure we all experience something like that as children, but I can only imagine how hard it would be when you don't even resemble your own family.

Although the book is a bit self-indulgent (and really, what memoir isn't) it's an intimate look at a man with no idea he would one day become one of the most powerful people in the world.

While working in Chicago as a community organizer -- a phrase that was spit out like curse words during the recent campaign -- Obama tried to mentor a friend's teenage son.

I asked him if he was still thinking about the air force, and he shook his head; he'd stay in Chicago, he said, find a job and get his own place. I asked him what had changed his mind. He said that the air force would never let a black man fly a plane.

I looked at him crossly. "Who told you that mess?"

Kyle shrugged. "Don't need somebody to tell me that. Just is, that's all."

"Man, that's the wrong attitude. You can do whatever you want if you're willing to work for it."

Many passages moved me, because hindsight is 20/20, and one slight change in Obama's past would have lead him down a very different path. We've yet to see what kind of president he will be, but this book gives insight into the kind of man he is.

I was especially moved by the tribute to his mother (from the preface to the 2004 edition):

I think sometimes that had I known she would not survive her illness, I might have written a different book--less a meditation on the absent parent, more a celebration of the one who was the single constant in my life. In my daughters, I see her every day, her joy, her capacity for wonder. I won't try to describe how deeply I mourn her passing still. I know that she was the kindest, most generous spirit I have ever known, and that what is best in me I owe to her.

You have to respect a man who loves his momma.

I am loved

I never meant to upset anyone or make anyone feel sorry for me, but after my wonderful sister-in-law read this post from earlier in the month, she sent me a care package to let me know that three people in Michigan love me. I'm not ashamed to say the gesture and her accompanying note made me cry. In a good way, of course.

I'm also not ashamed to admit that I will probably eat every one of those sugar cookies all by myself. My sister-in-law's sugar cookies are that good. Too bad the significant other wasn't here when I opened the box.

I grew up without sisters, but my sister-in-law has been in the family for a while now, and I think I should start considering her an actual sister. Especially after this.

I think my mom must have rubbed off on my sister-in-law as much as she did the rest of us kids. And I like to my sister-in-law rubbed of on Mom a bit, too. I'm pretty sure Mom got a lot sassier after Melinda married my brother. And that was a good thing.

Just say no

I've always been one to exercise. That's not to say I'm in great shape. I work hard, but genetics and time are not on my side. Plus, (thanks again to genetics) I'm hypothyroid, so my metabolism also fights me every step of the way. Nevermind that I refuse to completely give up junk food. I tried it, but labeling certain foods "bad" just makes me crave them more. So I subscribe to the belief of everything in moderation (including moderation).

I the last year or so I have developed exercise-induced asthma. When I work out at a pretty intense level (and sometimes not so intense), I'll start coughing. I'm not a smoker and I never have been. I did work almost a year in an office where everyone except me smoked, so I blame that. The doctor prescribed albuterol, suggesting I take a puff shortly before working out. It helps, but not enough. I find that if I keep my heart rate below 140, I don't cough too much. But I don't feel like I'm getting enough of a workout unless my heart rate is above 150, close to 160.

She has now prescribed Singulair. From the prescription information:

This medicine is used for the prevention and long-term treatment of asthma. It is used to prevent asthma attacks caused by exercise.

As with all medications, there is a list of possible side effects, including unusual weakness (great for a workout), stomach pain or upset, dizziness, cough (wait, what? isn't that why I'm taking this?), headache, tiredness and stuffy nose. And I should CONTACT (MY) DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY (yep, it's actually in all caps) if (I) experience hallucinations, fever, persistant sore throat or earache or flu symptoms.

But wait there's more!

CONTACT YOUR DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY if you experience sever stomach pain, server thoughts or actions (!?!), muscle aches/cramps, irregular heartbeat, yellowing eyes/skin, numbness/tingling of the hands or feet, easy bruising or bleeding, swelling or seizures.

Obviously, my doctor must believe the benefits of this medication outweigh any possible side effects. I'm sure I'd be better off if I didn't read this stuff. I don't usually have severe reactions to drugs. Not unless I think I should, anyway.

Here's hoping the medicine helps with the exercise-induced asthma and doesn't make me see things that aren't there.

Happy Hippo Butts

They may be the one of the deadliest animals in Africa but hippos are damn cute -- especially the babies.
A newborn hippo swims next to her mother at the Berlin Zoo on Tuesday. The female calf, which has yet to be given a name, already weighs 18 kilograms (40 pounds) -- as opposed to her mother, who tips the scales at a formidable 2.5 tons.

The real reason I have short hair

From "The Zombie Survival Guide" by Max Brooks:

The simple fact is that ghouls attack by reaching out to grab their victims, pulling them in, then biting. Logic dictates that the less material a person offers up for grabs, the better his or her chances will be. Baggy clothing, complete with pockets, straps, or anything that might hang freely, will be a convenient handle for grasping zombie claws. Anyone who has worked in factories or with some kind of heavy machinery will tell you the importance of never letting anything hang loose. Tight clothing, obviously within comfort limits, will help to eliminate this danger. Hair can be a similar hazard. Many times, victims have been seized and even dragged by their hair to a gruesome end. Tying one's hair back before a conflict may work temporarily. However, a short haircut, one inch or short, is ideal for hand-to-hand combat.

True, I think my short 'do makes me look younger and suits my face better and it's easier to care for, and my hair is naturally curly/wavy and has a tendency toward frizz when it reaches a certain length, and I have an awesome hair stylist. None of those reasons are the real reason for my short hair. It's not about fashion, it's all about survival, people.

If you're a Max Brooks fan -- and who didn't love "World War Z" -- he's at it again. "Those who don't learn from zombie history are condemned to repeat it."

The more you know.

What I drove: 2009 Subaru Forester

Some things seem to just go with Colorado: ski slopes, crazy weather, aspens, fleece vests and Subarus.

I don't own a Subaru, but I know a lot of people out here who do. As far as vehicles go, they make sense --they're not huge, but they're plenty big for hauling all your gear. They're good looking, get decent gas mileage and they're all-wheel drive.

I recently drove the newly remodeled Forester. When I bought my car last year, the older Forester made the short list, but lost out due to the price point. The new Forester is bigger but sleeker with a more aerodynamic body. It's priced at $25,460, which isn't outrageous and it feels like a much more expensive vehicle.

From my test drive story (which publishes in The Gazette Dec. 19):

The Forester, like all Subarus, comes standard with all-wheel drive. That all-wheel-drive system has 30 years of Subaru experience behind it. The symmetrical all-wheel drive creates optimal balance for stability and sharp handling, with power flowing in a direct path from the engine to all four wheels, according to Subaru literature.

I spent a good portion of my test drive in the Forester seeking out any lingering snow and ice from a recent snowstorm, trying to test the car’s all-wheel-drive performance — this from a person who hates to drive in foul weather.

Unfortunately, the best I could do for adverse conditions was a gravel parking lot and some standing water. Still, the Forester gripped the gravel and didn’t spin its wheels or throw any gravel when I accelerated out of the parking lot, and there was no pulling when driving through puddles. On the dry roads, the Forester had a smooth comfortable ride, handling like a smaller vehicle, with minimal body roll, even on tight curves.

Here's Yoda!

Years ago, I worked on an I.T. Help Desk. While the job was mostly hell, I had a good friend who made the days bearable. One of the things she did to help me keep from screaming and pulling my hair out was to hide a Happy Meal Yoda figurine around the office. Some days, I'd get off a particularly frustrating phone call -- "if you reset my password, you'll know what it is" -- I'd look up to find Yoda peering at me from the leaves of a plant or peeking out of a coffee mug at me. It was as if he were saying, "Take deep breaths, you will. Suppress your dark urges, you must."

I wonder if the people who design Christmas tree ornaments know Yoda's effect on me or if they're just trying to make a buck. I suspect the latter.

Either way, I'm thankful for my latest ornament find. And I'm thankful to Maureen for helping me get through those Help Desk years.

Merry Christmas to me

The local Western Warehouse* is closing. Bad for them, good for me. The boots were 30 percent off. I've been really happy with my old pair of Ariat Fatbaby boots so I went to find a new pair. The pickins are getting pretty slim, but I found a pair. They're not black. But they are pretty ... and comfy ... and on sale.


*Clicking the Western Warehouse link shows the company is evidently becoming Boot Barn.

I'm getting too old for this

Last night, some of my former coworkers and I got together for a Christmas party. We had great food and delicious Margaritas. I felt relaxed and a little tipsy, but certainly not drunk. The significant other played designated driver, so I didn't have to worry about how much I drank, anyway.

Unfortunately, either because I really am getting too old to party or because I don't party enough and my body doesn't know what to do with high-fat snacks and tequila, I woke in the middle of the night feeling like crap. My stomach hurt and I had trouble sleeping. I didn't wake up with a hangover and I feel mostly fine (other than tired from a busy day and lack of sleep). So, I'm going to say that it's not my age but rather my normally clean living that made me feel so lousy after a few Margaritas -- and celebratory shots -- and Mexican food.

It was all worth it and I'm thankful I went, because the party was great, as was hanging out with some of my best friends -- and definitely the coolest people I've ever worked with. I even got a present that made me laugh out loud. Nice stitching, Kate.

WARNING: Naughty word in the image below!

What I drove: 2009 Nissan Rogue

It was probably the shortest test drive I've ever taken -- including ones when actually shopping for a new car -- but I actually like the Nissan Rogue. Despite it's blatant product placement on "Heroes" and the fact that all Nissan vehicles are barely on my car radar, I think the Rogue is a pretty nice little crossover.

I was given the test drive assignment Monday with a deadline of Wednesday. Two days is a really short turnaround, especially for someone who has been used to having a couple of weeks to call the dealership, set up the appointment, spend a few hours driving the vehicle, then take a week or so to pull my notes and specifications together and write the story. It's not one of my better stories. It's mostly information about the car's power and amenities, with less about the actual drive. But it gets the job done. And on such short notice (throw in a snowstorm to make driving treacherous) I think I did ok.

From my story:

The Rogue offers a refined ride and practical amenities, but it has a little bit of a wild side under the hood. The 2.5-liter, four-cylinder engine is paired with a continuously variable transmission. While a conventional automatic transmission typically has four or five fixed gear ratios, a CVT has an infinite number of ratios, according to Nissan literature. Put the Rogue in drive and go. You never feel the vehicle shift gears.

A CVT also optimizes your gas mileage, Robinson says. The front-wheel-drive Rogue gets 22 miles per gallon city and 27 mpg highway. The all-wheel-drive version does nearly as well with 21 mpg city/26 mpg highway. But it’s not just about saving gas. With 170 horsepower and 175 foot-pounds of torque, the Rogue really zips.

On the road, the Rogue glides along like a fish in water. It handles nicely on all road conditions from packed snow to dry pavement to bumps and dips. The front-wheel-drive version I drove laughed at the snowy, slushy roads, so I imagine the all-wheel-drive version could take on some of the roughest conditions Colorado could throw at it.

The ride is smooth and quiet. But you can add all the noise you want with the optional Bose audio system with AM/FM/in-dash six-disc CD changer, eight speakers and XM Satellite Radio, with a free three-month subscription.

Christmas workshop

Thank you Martha Stewart for making me feel inadequate, once again. Granted, it is my own fault for signing up to receive e-mail updates about her Christmas Workshop. I don't know why I thought I'd get cute and simple ideas for Christmas decorations and treats. We all know Martha doesn't do simple.

Under the heading "Easy Holiday Crafts," we're taught how to make such things as evergreen bobeches (I had to look that word up.).

Maybe those aren't really difficult to make, but the process involves gathering fresh evergreen leaves and wiring them together. I've tried wiring fresh flowers before, and it's not something that's in my skill set. I guess I'm more the paper-chain kind of gal.

My favorite line: "Your best damask tablecloth is now safe." My who-mask what now? I am so visiting the wrong Web site there.

The Christmas kitty, however, is perfectly content with my less-than-perfect holiday decor.

Home again

Thank you lucky stars, karma, St. Anthony (patron saint of lost items) or whatever cosmic power returns green iPod Shuffles to their rightful owners. I thought for sure mine was gone forever.

You see, last week, while at my Literacy gig, I dropped my iPod at the school. Of course, I didn't miss it until the next morning when I was getting ready for the gym. By then, snow covered the ground and was still coming down. I called the school, but no luck.

I normally call the after-school program before I head over, to make sure the kids to be tutored are in attendance. Yesterday when I called, I asked if they had found my iPod. They had found an MP3 player, but it wasn't green and it wasn't an iPod. When I got to the school, one of the teachers called me over to her desk and handed me my iPod! A little girl had found it outside. I think she contemplated keeping it for herself, but either her conscience got the better of her or she listened to the music I had loaded and found it lacking -- there's absolutely no Hannah Montana or Jonas Brothers on my playlist.

Whatever the cause, my iPod is home again, and I promise to keep a closer eye on it now.

Deadlines

Happily, I am going to have some freelance writing assignments coming my way. Unfortunately, the first one is due in two days. The extremely short turn-around time is due to a transitional period at my old place of employment. I'm taking the assignment because the pay is better than before and I'm not ready to burn any bridges.

So, the plan is to drive a car tomorrow morning and have the story written by Wednesday morning. I'm not worried about getting the story written once I've driven the car -- I usually write test drives in about a day -- I'm worried about the dealership getting back to us and having a car for me to drive.

Some things, I guess, are out of my hands. I'm just thankful to have a writing gig lined up.