You can put Newsstand in a folder.
You can put Newsstand in a folder.
When I'm not sure how to prepare for something, I meditate, and by meditate I mean do nail art—that's my version of meditation.
I hunt for just the right design for the occasion—what design would be most appropriate for a beekeeping class on a Saturday, for example—and set about selecting the colors and brushes to execute my plan. As I paint, I'm forced to breathe slowly, steady my hands, and remain in the moment. Sometimes I hum a repetitive little chant or sound as I work, probably not even audible to those around me, or maybe it annoys the fuck out of them. If it does, they've been kind enough to never point it out.
I also do yoga, but not with the seriousness I would like, and not with the passion of Brian Leaf, the author of Misadventures of a Garden State Yogi: My Humble Quest to Heal My Colitis, Calm My ADD, and Find the Key to Happiness . I was given a copy of his book to review, and I'll be honest; I rarely read anything in hardcopy anymore. I got so used to reading on my iPhone when Bob was in the hospital and going through chemo, and then I read Infinite Jest that way because IT'S SO DAMN HUGE, that I just can't go back to paper. So, to see if I was going to like this book enough to REALLY read it and review it, I cheated. (Don't tell the publisher, please. Or the author. Or Santa, because I've been pretty good otherwise.)
Here's what I did: I downloaded a preview on iBooks to see if I liked it enough to BUY a copy of a book I already had in my hot little mitts.
It totally was.
With five kids cruising around this house a good portion of the time, we have a fairly hectic world, and it can be tough to find time to read, but this book sucked me in. Why?
But, you know what you should do, see for yourself.
You can read the first two chapters free right here.
And if you want to see one of the funnier book trailers I think I've ever seen/heard, then watch this. Or don't. Maybe go wash your cat. I'm gonna figure out what I'm supposed to wear to beekeeping class with this sweet black and yellow nail art.
The fine-ish print: I was given a free copy of the above-reviewed book with no other strings attached, folks. Anything else I did or said or painted on my fingernails was my own choice and my own opinions.
I rarely, if ever, agree to do product reviews here on my big girl blog.
I just don't.
I have been asked to review some weird shit. Some normal shit. And so much shit I just don't care about. I don't care that it's free and I get to keep it. I really do have better things to do than eat, smell, wash, wear, listen to, or play your product. Yes, I'm that asshole.
Unless it's a vibrator.
Send that one. I'll take it. I'll review it right after my post about zuchini, because squash and fake penii are related, dontcha know.
That's how I ended up receiving a little velvet box (bwahaha) from the cool peeps at Ladygasm that contained a tiny treasure for my Lady Garden.
It takes 2 AAA batteries in the screw-off base, which I provided. Cuz I am a Girl Scout, like that. (Really, I was a Campfire Girl, but whatever, I had the batteries.) And then I gave the new toy a good scrub down because for some reason it smelled like a swimming pool. Which is lovely if you want to swim in your Lady Garden, but I like to keep my swimming and buzzing separate. Call me old-fashioned.
After taking it for a test drive, here's what I can tell you about the Ladygasm Cici (they call her the most affordable luxury vibrator, folks, like a Lexus for your twat—okay maybe I came up with that last part of the tagline):
I've dusted off my review blog and you're reaping the benefits, folks. Head over to CalifmomReviews to see what's up.
I promise it'll be entertaining. It might even be rewarding.
Seriously, I should be packing for my trip and I'm doing this instead. That tells you it's either way more fun or way more fun.
Book cover via AmazonIn early October, I was asked by the publishers of James Patterson's latest book, Against Medical Advice, if I'd like a copy to review. This isn't a work of fiction, as Patterson usually writes. Instead, Patterson is joined by Hal Friedman in telling the story of Cory Friedman, Hal's son, and his struggle with the most severe case of Tourette Syndrome I've even encountered.
When your child ends up in the hospital from tearing muscles due to physical tics, you aren't dealing with your run-of-the-mill case of Tourette's. When you've worked your way through 60 medications and still can't find peace for your child, that child gives up...almost. When an addiction to alcohol is the lesser of two evils, it's time for radical actions.
Against Medical Advice is told in Cory's voice, with his blessing. This is as much Cory's book as it is his father's or Patterson's. Cory's story will grab you, turn you upside down, challenge you, and give you an ending you never saw coming.
I read it in a single night.
Then, Bug read it. It took him two nights, but he was captivated by the story, as well. Peanut and Hubs are planning to read it together, then we'll be passing our copy along. We may even pick up a few more for family members and friends. I will confess this was my first Patterson novel, and I was absolutely blown away.