In the Theater: Friends with Kids

Last weekend Cat and I saw a preview for Friends with Kids. With the same cast as Bridesmaids and the addition of Adam Scott we thought we couldn't go wrong and were eager to see it the following weekend. The week dragged by. Finally Saturday came around and Cat, Susannah and I skipped arm in arm to the theater for laughs galore.

The theater, The Brooklyn Heights Cinema, was very teeny with only two screens. Cat led me to believe it was like the Hi-Pointe, so I was extremely disappointed when there was no comforting musty odor and no doggy mascot. After forgiving these negatives (because not every theater can be that perfect) I decided that it was a very cute place. And even though someone sat in front of me I could see the screen just fine and didn't need to lower myself by pleading for an adult booster seat.

Cat, Susannah and Popcorn

On to the movie. I thought it was incredibly lame. The plot line was obvious from the commercials so there were no surprises or much originality there. I went into the movie expecting it to be funny based on the actors. It was not. It was very serious and full of emotional turmoil. The dialogue was pretty idiotic. I didn't care for any of the characters, except maybe Chris O'Dowd (and that's because his part was small enough that I could still pretend he was my little IT nerd). There were a few laughs, but they were probably only funny compared to the rest of the lame ass movie.

In summation: Theater good. Movie bad.

Read More: The Hunger Games

Update:

Now I finally gave in and read The Hunger Games. I don't know why I keep trying to avoid Young Adult Fiction. I'm just hurting myself because it seems to be pretty awesome.

Book One did a really great job of pulling me into the story. I enjoyed that the author didn't give a background or summary of what the hunger games were at the beginning of the book, but let details out bit by bit so I had to keep reading to find out more.

Also really great, or terrible, the author ends it so that you have to read the next book. Things aren't wrapped up nicely. I'm so happy that I didn't read these books as they were coming out and had to wait for the next book to be released. I wouldn't be able to take it! I couldn't even take the wait to get it from the library. Position 704 in the queue! I decided to buy it, but it's only out in hardback and I just couldn't justify it. But I did eventually cave a few hours later and got it for the Kindle. I think it's stupid to pay money for a book I'll only read once, but I had no choice! I need this.

- Megan Leigh

So this is actually a young adult book, but I've been seeing a lot of adults reading it on the subway. Then, when we had the book fair, a lot of parents told me it was a must-read. So I decided to give it a try!

I found this book to be really gripping. It took me about a day to finish it, and it was very hard to put down. It's written in a really simple, no-frills style--which is probably because it was meant for young adults, but, given who the narrator is, it works well. This book is so brutal, though, that it's hard for me to imagine young adults reading it. It was hard for me to deal with! Although I think I get more and more sensitive to violence and stuff as I get older.

I guess it is a timely book too. With more of our citizens locked up than any other high-income nation, one of the highest levels of income inequality of all the OECD nations, really high rates of violence, and our obsession with reality tv... maybe the post-apocalyptic North America envisioned in this book isn't all that far off.

The ending was a little anti-climactic, but I guess it was intentionally written to lead up to the sequel... and it also must be hard to wrap up a really good book. I give it a hearty recommendation! I will be reading the next one in the series.

-Kristin

Read More: Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness

Update: Well, I loved Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight, so I wasn't surprised to find out that I liked Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness as well. I didn't find it quite as moving as her first book, but it was still definitely worth reading. This book focused on her mother's fascinating life, and the portrait she painted of her mom was a lot more sympathetic. I got the feeling it may have been an attempt to make things right with her mom after the last book came out!

The tragedy in her parents' lives kind of boggles the mind. More children dead than alive. Civil war after civil war. Being surrounded by death and destruction. As young people, they decided to live in the place that they loved, never really knowing what they were signing up for. Even so, I think Fuller describes the places they lived in a way that lets you understand why they never thought of abandoning their way of life. More than anything, this book made me want to see the light in Kenya!

-Kristin


White African memoirs are not my favorite, as I believe I've written a bit about before. So I tried to read Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness pushing this bias aside with all my might. It couldn't be helped, my oppositional thoughts did their best to continually creep in, but I must pat myself on the back for doing a pretty good job at keeping them at bay. This may be the reason that I enjoyed this book much more than Alexandra Fuller's previous memoir Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight.

I liked it because throughout the book the mom antagonizes her daughter about her Awful Books. "Be careful what you say, she'll put this in one of her Awful Books." Apparently the mother was not too happy about her previous memoir. However, she groomed Fuller from the time she was small to write a memoir about her and her fantastic deeds. So she finally does, this book focusing mainly on her mom, Nicola Fuller of Central Africa and her amazing exploits. Also written about is her crippling depression, which I assume would be quite a sensitive topic. I wonder what the mother will think about this one.

Her mom led such a harsh life out in the African wilds. You'd think being from a Western country you'd somehow keep managing to live that lifestyle no matter where you go. But moving to Africa they had the same infant mortality rates as any indigenous African. Only two out of her five children made it to adulthood.

At times I wondered why in the world they chose Africa of all places to live. Probably because you can grow up with a chimp as your best friend there. And that makes all the war and illness and deadly animals worth it. 

- Megan Leigh

One New Thing: Central Park Zoo

Yesterday I babysat a couple of kids: a girl in Elliot's class (who was out due to a lice infestation all up in her hair) and her little brother (Poppy's age). Their mother had me take them to the Central Park Zoo because it was such a beautiful day out. I found myself in a tank top feeling fine surrounded by people in winter coats. That doesn't seem like me!

I figured it would be comparable to the St. Louis Zoo since they're both in big parks. So I was horrified (even though I knew it was coming!) that it cost money. Boy are we St. Louisans spoiled. In a good way, of course. Not only did it cost money, but it was tiny! I know, I know, the big zoo is in the Bronx, but I was still disappointed. I was told there was a petting zoo where you could feed the goats. You could only feed them food through a fence and they're all adults. I wanted to be climbed on by baby goats and to nurse them with little bottles of milk. The saviors of the day were the Sea Lions and their wonderful burps.

I feel bad comparing this little rinky dink affair to St. Louis so I'll have to check out the Bronx zoo next... and then bash it.

- Megan Leigh

One New Thing: Pequeña

Cat and her tacos

Oh boy, we've been dropping the ball on this blog! Kristin's been sick and I've been lazy. That's why this post is going to travel back in time to last Sunday...

Last night I went out to Fort Greene to hang out with my good pal Cat. I told her that I didn't have money for dinner, but I would go and sit with her if she needed to get food. She chose Pequeña and told me I could get a little side. I thought maybe I could spend just a little of my non-existent money on just a little food. But then the waitress handed me the menu and there were chicken enchiladas - one of those foods I just can't say no to. So a meal was ordered and a one new thing blog was born.

But first we ordered a carafe of frozen strawberry margaritas. I haven't had one in so long it was surprising how salty they were. I'm used to my sweet alcoholic beverages so it was a nice change.

Then the food came. Normally I like my Mexican food with a decent amount of spice - this wasn't that kind of food. It was more along the lines of what I consider Tex-Mex (This description may be wrong. I just refer to anything bland as Tex-Mex). But I enjoyed it none the less! The rice was a useless waste of plate, but I thoroughly enjoyed the chicken enchiladas. There was enough that I was able to save one for breakfast. I went to bed like on Christmas Eve, thinking the sooner I go to sleep the sooner I can wake up and open presents! However, in this case opening presents was really eating enchiladas!

If you're wondering where this margarita filled night led us... To Target. To buy Jenga. Which we played the rest of the night while watching Saturday Night Live. Just two single girls in the Big Apple livin' it up!

- Megan Leigh

Read More: Anthropology of An American Girl

I saw Anthropology of An American Girl lying on one of the tables at BookCulture and thought it looked intriguing. One of the reviews said it was like crack! That sounded good. I added it to my list of books to read. Then I saw it for sale for half-price at Goddard's Book Fair. Surely the gods were smiling on me! Or were they?

This book was hideously bad. I so wanted to like it. I made myself finish the whole damn thing, and because it was so bad it dragged on for weeks. I wanted to give the author the benefit of the doubt. I really did.

The book follows Evie, an American Girl. We meet her in high school and stay with her past college graduation. Evie is pretty much the worst protagonist ever. She is a non-person. Totally passive, obsessed with her own thoughts, no interest in anything going on outside her head. She gets buffeted about by the men in her life like a paperdoll on a rainy day. Evie oozes through the book like a spineless, mute blob, but we are given to understand that everybody finds her irresistible. Reading this book is like getting stuck in the head of the most self-absorbed, vacant person you know.

Then there is the title. Unbeknownst to the author, anthropology refers to the study of humans. Plural. Groups of people. So the title "Anthropology of The American Girl" would make sense. "Anthropology of An American Girl" doesn't make sense.

Still, I thought maybe the author had a plan. After all, teenagers are self-absorbed. Maybe the writing was so overwrought because it was supposed to be like a real teenager's thoughts. Maybe she called it Anthropology of An American Girl, because a self-indulgent teenage girl would make the mistake of perceiving her own solitary thoughts as something of grand importance, something representative of an entire group. Maybe all this nonsense was culminating in some big ending that would make sense of everything. So I kept reading.

And then I finished, finally, and knew for sure that it was all not worth it. This book seems like a pretty transparent re-imagining of the author's own girlhood. It's almost embarrassing to read it. It doesn't seem like the passage of years has provided any perspective or wisdom in this case. It's really rare that I dislike books. I'm pretty easy to please. But this book was painful to read. Two thumbs down!

-Kristin

Read More: Sybil Exposed

Update: Well, what a horrifying book. This poor kid has pernicious anemia, she gets dizzy and woozy and acts strange, and instead of getting treated she falls into the hands of a mad psychiatrist and ends up drug addled with a multiple personality disorder diagnosis!

I can totally picture Elliot making up lies about me after I die, just like Sybil did about her mom. So I hope all of you are ready to stand up for me! You'd better defend my reputation, so people don't think I sneak around the town at night doing witchcraft and defecating in people's yards.

As I read this, especially the descriptions of the insane professional meetings where psychiatrists reported on their patients, describing things that no sane adult could believe, it reminded me of similar things going on today. Like child bipolar diagnoses... maybe even scarier, because it's defenseless kids who are getting drugged into oblivion, and mostly poor kids with no adults to stick up for them at that. I wonder if we ever learn!

-Kristin


Kristin always finds the best books in the new section at the library. Whenever I browse the shelf there's never anything good. She found Sybil Exposed by Debbie Nathan on the shelf the other day. I was surprised. I thought for sure when I got around to requesting it there would still be a wait list a mile long. But thankfully, lucky hands Kristin has no need for wait lists. La-Ti-Da.

I'm sure everyone knows the story of Sybil, but if you need your memory refreshed she's that girl with all the multiple personalities. When you think about the story with a rational mind it's pretty obvious that it is bogus. But it was so sensational and interesting you couldn't help but want to believe such crazy things are possible.

This book investigates Sybil (Shirley Mason) and her upbringing. I learned some about Seventh Day Adventists. For instance, they developed special foods to keep sex temptations at bay. One of these foods was the graham cracker, invented by a minister by the name of Sylvester Graham. I wonder how this Graham would feel if he were to read my match.com profile where I list S'Mores as a major turn on? (Just kidding. Sort of. Potential wooers take note: S'Mores and mashed potatoes are two keys to this girl's heart.) They also invented more food that are staples in this girl's diet: peanut butter, soy milk, fake meat! Yay for the Adventists! As you can imagine, living in a uber religious household was not the most fun childhood you could imagine, but far from the horrors that Sybil told of. So what's the deal?

Enter Shirley's psychiatrist, Dr. Wilbur. She injected Shirley with a drug called Pentothal, that puts patients into a trance state where they are highly sensitive to suggestion and for some reason Dr. Wilbur hates mothers. And out come Shirley's personalities. Many of them. Dr. Wilbur doesn't suspect / want to suspect that any of these personalities and claims could possibly be fake. Poor Shirley becomes addicted to Pentothal and the myriad of other drugs the doctor prescribes for her. It's a wonder that Shirley was even able to function at all on so many things.

Then comes in Flora Schreiber, the journalist who wrote Sybil. Unlike Wilbur, she does fact check and finds that things are not adding up. But what is she to do? She's already spent the advance the publishing company has given her and signed a contract to have the story ready in six months.

The book delves deeper into the relationships between these three women as well as some interesting tidbits about their personal lives to help understand them a bit more. It goes into what became of all them in the end, which was interesting and pretty sad. And updates us on the status of Multiple Personality Disorder in psychiatry today. Although the revelations in this book weren't surprising or shocking, it was still an interesting read.

- Megan Leigh