Laurie Perry's Blog, page 20

This one's for you, Ed Begley, Jr.

In the 15+ years that I have lived in Los Angeles, my brain has never fully accepted the idea that celebrities are real human beings who do things like sit in traffic, go to the grocery store, and shop in the Valley.

Perhaps it's just my rural roots showing. In a small town everyone who looks familiar actually is familiar. That friendly-looking face belongs to my old pal from the fourth grade, or you're that guy I met on a hayride, or his cousin, or you look familiar because we used to work together at that bar in college. Yay! Let's reminisce!

Whatever the case, when my eyes see a celebrity doing some everyday Joe kind of activity my brain gets confused. I don't think, "Look! that's Sandra Bullock right here in the Studio City Bookstar and she is with Dweezil Zappa, hurry, appear nonchalant and cool!"

No. What my brain says is, "That girl looks so familiar! I must know her. Did we go to school together? Did she used to work at Disney? Was she in my Tae Bo class that one time?"

And that is why the one time I saw Sandra Bullock in the Studio City Bookstar I scared her. My brain was all, "Maybe she worked at the Daily News? Did we ride the bus together? I think I know her from the bus. OH MY GOD THAT BUS. Breathe! Breathe! That's SANDRA FREAKING BULLOCK..."

And just then she turned and looked at me and I let out a little squeak and turned and fled from the home decor aisle at Bookstar. Smooth move, Laurie. Real smooth.

- - -

A couple of years ago the Book Expo came to Los Angeles. It was a wacky and ridiculously busy week. All the East Coast folks from the publisher were coming out and there were events and lunches and dinners and I was doing a few days at the show, too. I was still working full time at the Bank and trying to maintain my undercover writer status so you know. I was crazy.

The Wednesday before the Book Expo I was in Woodland Hills doing some after-work grocery shopping. I was still dressed in my work clothes and I was rushing up and down the aisles because everything those days was a big old rush. Hurry! There's more traffic for you just ahead!

As I turned the corner from the pasta aisle into the vitamin aisle I almost ran my cart into a tall man setting up a little table. And this man looked really familiar to me. My brain, in its rushed and frazzled state, immediately decided I knew this man REALLY WELL. Because out of my mouth for no reason at all popped out the following:

"Oh my God! Hi! How the heck are you?"

And I said it so warmly, so honestly! My voice sounded as if I were greeting my long-lost nephew. It was so real, because my brain actually thought I KNEW this man.

Responding to my completely authentic and obvious intimate relationship with him, the man looked up at me, smiled and spoke.

"Oh wow, I'm great!" he said. "It is so good to see you!"

And that is when my brain kind of caught up with itself. Because who the heck was this strange dude that was so happy to see me?

In that split second of confusion, I looked at the table he was arranging and I saw the stack of books and fresh sharpies and I saw his name on the book. And I realized I was having a very warm and engaging conversation with Ed Begley, Jr. I was chitchatting with him as if we had dated or done shots together or something.

Suddenly I knew I'd made a serious social error. But rather than pretend the earth was about to explode and I had to get a move on, or act like my phone was ringing, or even just apologize for being a dork and move to the next aisle, no, I decided the least embarrassing choice was to continue the charade.

"Well, it's good to see you, too," I said. "It's been a while! Hey are you in town for the Book Expo?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm going to be there, definitely." His face was smiling but in his eyes I could see him scanning me, trying to place me. And it's hard because I have one of those faces. You know the kind, I always look like someone you've met before.

"Great," I said. "I'll be signing both Saturday and Sunday so I'm sure we'll bump into each other."

At this point my panicked brain realized I had to LEAVE. NOW. I motioned to my groceries like they were in a hurry.

"Have a good one tonight," I said. "Talk to you later!"

We smiled. Warmly. Like old friends.

"See you this weekend," he said. But I could tell he was confused. Who is this woman? How do I know her? Why are we so friendly?

I abandoned my cart a few aisles over and fled the scene of the grocery store. I was so embarrassed. I was sweating heavily in one armpit. I had just made a total ass out of myself.

Later that night after a nice glass of wine or three, I thought about my embarrassing run-in with Ed Begley, Jr., and I decided it was probably funny. Wine said I should get over myself for feeling like a complete dumbass. Surely celebrities have this happen all the time. Surely I am not the first person to ever have this response to friendly-looking Ed. And anyway, he was in my store in my Valley. How was I supposed to know he was a celebrity? He was in the vitamin aisle, right next to the hemp tank tops at Whole Foods on a weekday. How could I have known?

- - -

When the Saturday morning of the Book Expo arrived, I got up and showered and tried to pull myself into a reasonable facsimile of what I think an author might look like. I wore makeup and did up my hair and put on my high heels and as I was on my way to the Convention Center I remembered the little mid-week incident with Ed Begley, Jr.

My embarrassment had faded. Now The Begley Situation felt kind of hilarious. In fact, I wondered if it might be a good idea to finagle a writer's schedule from my publicist and figure out when he would be signing in the main auditorium. I could line up and get an autographed copy of Ed's book. We could chitchat like old friends.

This idea amused me to no end.

But unless you really are a celebrity the Book Expo is just a churning line of work and gladhanding. My publicist had me in the booth all day and I signed books and got sharpie stains on my hands and smiled until I thought my face would fall off. By mid-afternoon I had forgotten all about Ed. When I was just about ready for quitting time I was told to fix my lipstick and haul ass to the green room. My main auditorium signing was in 15 minutes -- at the other end of the building.

The green room is just a big tent set up in a smelly corner of the Convention Center. Authors about to sign books in the main cattle call booths go to the green room to check in and get bottled water and wait for someone to herd you around. I half-ran, half hobbled down to the other end of the auditorium, hoofing it as quickly as one can in three-inch heels. As I pitched myself into the green room GUESS WHO I RAN INTO.

"Oh, hi!" I said to Ed Begley, Jr. I was flushed and a little out of breath. "I think I'm late! Did you sign already?"

"I'm just on my way out there," he said.

"Oh, great!" I said. I grabbed one of the bottles of water out of the cooler. "They need to stock these things with alcohol, you know? Like there should be a rule that all green rooms come with a chardonnay slushee machine."

My friend Ed laughed.

"That's a good idea," he said. "I don't think anyone back here would argue with you."

"Well I gotta run and check in," I said. "I'll try to come by and get an autographed copy of your book. It's great by the way. Seeyoulaterbye!"

Just before I turned to leave I saw the look cross his face. The look of dawning horror that he may be asked to autograph a book to this woman who clearly knew him so well yet ... what was her name? Why can't I remember her name? Where do I know her from? Did we used to work together? Did we go to school together?

Even though my cheeks hurt I smiled ear to ear. A little secret smile. I was totally messing with Ed Begley, Jr.

- - -

I never got in his line that day, there wasn't time. When the afternoon ended I packed up my bag and headed to the parking garage, back to life, back to reality.

Time passed.

Eventually I left the West Valley and moved back to Studio City. I even left the Bank and stopped rushing around all day long like a crazy person. I had more star sightings in the months that we were apart, but my time with Ed had taught me a valuable lesson. Now even when I run into someone I actually know I keep it nonchalant. Just in case.

A few months ago I was buying cilantro at the Farmer's Market. I paid, I put my cilantro in my hippy dippy cloth bag, I turned to walk away and look for grapefruit. Across the crowd we locked eyes.

It was Ed. Ed recognized me.

And people, HE SMILED FIRST.

We waved at each other across the crowd like old friends do and then I hurried off to my car. I was taken off guard. I was sweating again, under my left arm.



Damn him! I thought. Ed Begley, Jr. just EdBegleyJuniored me!

Now I know it's just a matter of time. We're not done, me and Ed. I'm sticking with this ruse until the bitter end and apparently so is he. Sometimes when I'm bored in traffic or standing in line at the DMV I imagine what I'll say next time I see him. Maybe I'll tell Ed I'm writing a screenplay that's just perfect for him. Or I'll mention in a casual, offhanded way that my business partner and I are thinking our new line would be a great endorsement vehicle for his brand.

On bold, brazen days I imagine myself saying, "Ed! It's been so long, we should have lunch at that place we went to that time..."

It's not over. I'll see you soon, Ed Begley, Jr.

Winners and winners-to-be and cat pictures, because that is how I roll

I am so happy you all (mostly) enjoyed our Book Club selection, When We Were Strangers. The comment winner is ... dah dah dum... Margaret at March 7, 2011 08:42 AM. Please check your email. Congrats! And thanks again to Harper Collins for sending us advance copies to give away for the book club. That was an all-around win-win.

And since I know book giveaways are just as fun as random boxes of knitting stuff, I am hosting an entire week of freebie book giveaways next week!

It has been pointed out to me (kindly and gently) that most of the books I offer in sweepstakes are knitting books and where is the love for the men and women of crochet? WELL. You think I do not listen but LO, I LISTEN, and the first book giveaway on Monday is a crochet book so cute it even made me want to work up a chain in a frenzy.

Next week I am also offering up several luscious knitting books and maybe at the end of the week I will cap it off with a big pile o' books just for fun. The best part about having this here website is that I have no editor and can post endless cat pictures. The second best part is that I get preview copies of delicious books from publishers and I get to share them with you.

- - -

People often ask me why I don't urge all my readers to get books only from their local lending library. This weird topic seemed to come up over and over again this past month (especially as we talked about eReaders.) I know I have addressed it before but here it goes ... again. Like we don't have more pressing things to talk about such as the time I made Ed Begley, Jr. think I was stalking him accidentally.

So I love the public library. Really, I love it. I support my library with events and donations and often with my ridiculous late fees.

But I also BUY books!

I buy books because I write books and I love books and I believe in supporting an author and paying them for their work. It is that simple. It's important to me to use whatever money I have to buy books and support the publishing industry. I'm thrilled when publishers send me free sample books so I can help promote new books on this site, if a little exposure helps an author get paid it makes me feel glad to be a part of that loop. It's a happy karmic wheel for the author and for the reader.

But mostly I buy books. When I find an author I love, I BUY THEIR BOOK. I buy books for friends (I must have bought ten copies of Winter's Bone, I really loved that book. Recently I went on a Mark Nepo binge and bought five copies of The Book of Awakening to give as gifts.)

I buy books to support authors. It is not easy to make a living off publishing these days. A few years ago I made a decision to buy less shoes and more books. Even these days when I don't have money pouring in through the window, I still buy books. It's a trade-off -- yes, I could buy that nice bottle of wine OR I could buy a book and some two-buck-Chuck. Done!

Here's the most important thing, though: I am only telling you this since so many people took me to task and I don't like having a finger wagging at me about something like this. Paint me as anything people, but not a librarian contrarian! Not that! This is my thing and I don't expect it to be yours. I don't expect people to do what I do or like what I like or eat the messed-up food combinations I find pleasing. It's a better world when everyone just does what feels right to them and we all smile and act nice and no one comments that I squeeze lemon juice on rice.

I'm happy to my toes when someone talks with love about their library. Libraries basically raised me as a small child. I love libraries! And you know what, also I BUY BOOKS.

So the next time you wag your finger at some grown-up who buys books rather than borrows only from the library, stop pre-wag and ask yourself if that's really your Waterloo. Is this your final stand, Custer? Will you go down in that Alamo? Can I use any more bad metaphors here?

I LOVE BOOKS. I support people who write, illustrate, bind and publish books. Long live that old-fashioned thing, the paper brick on my shelf. I love you, I love your smell, I drink cheap wine for you. I raise a glass of two-buck-Chuck to you. The end.

- - -

And now cat pictures!

That is such a tough angle, Buddy. Or should I say "Big Buddy."

Book Chat: When We Were Strangers

This month's Online Book Club & Therapy Session featured the debut novel from Pamela Schoenewaldt, When We Were Strangers. In one of the happy accidents created by an online book club, the author herself has agreed to answer many of your reader questions so when you are commenting on the book let me know if you have a question for her. I'll assemble them all in an email tonight and post her replies when I hear back. Fancy, no?

I started reading this book during jury duty. I didn't really think any novel could completely take me out of the smelly feet drudgery that is the Burbank jury holding tank. Imagine my surprise when I looked up from the book and already two hours had passed! It was a bittersweet combination -- the sadness that is Irma's bumpy ride to America and the sweetness that was losing myself in a story and getting out of that smelly room and onto the smelly boat. At least metaphorically.

The writing is just lovely. This author wraps you in the story and doesn't lose you with too much description or drip adjectives all over the page yet she still paints such a clear picture of the scene that you feel like you are on that boat in steerage. You can taste the bread from Opi and feel the fabric of the dresses between your fingers. That's talent with words.

I have to say there were many times during the book when I thought, "Damn. Can't Irma catch a freakin' break already?" but perhaps that is more a critique of my fragile little state of mind than the story itself. I wanted happy things to happen for Irma. What can I say? I'm a sappy sucker for a happy ending. I wish there had been more of the ending -- perhaps stretched out longer. But it's a small complaint. I loved Molly, too, and appreciated the contrast of her energy and bravado against Irma's quieter character.

While reading this book I spent a fair amount of time feeling blessed to be born in this era. My rule of thumb when I get a time machine is that I will never go back to any year without penicillin. It's a good rule. You should think it through.

What did you think of When We Were Strangers? Did you get wrapped into the story or find some of Irma's trials and terrors too much? What did you think of the writing style, the way the author painted the scenery for us? Did you relate to Irma? Did you like the ending? Did you feel connected to the story?

I was pleasantly surprised by the novel. It sucked me in and kept me turning the pages fast so I could find out what happens next -- my benchmark for a great read. I can't wait to hear your feedback!

- - -

Every one who participates in the book chitchat (by posting in the comments below) will be entered into a random drawing for an equally random assortment of knitting doodads from my stash. If you aren't a knitter (and therefore have no use for a pile of Patons Up Country or similar) be sure to mention that in your comment so I can scare up something unusual and less knitterly for you. Let the commenting begin!

New Moon in Uranus

Today is March 4th, the new moon is new though probably not in Uranus. It just never gets old saying Uranus.

Some Very Important Things:

1) Consider That Gauntlet Thrown

So you probably already know this if you're on The Twitter with me (recently I've been abducted by Twitter. I've had The Twitter for a while now but sort of forgot about it for long periods of time. In the past few weeks I've been absconded by the madness. I think it's the combination of all the #winning and #mcLobster. Plus I love the sweet, rich taste of irony I get when I hear stuffy news anchors reading crazy celebrity Twitter feeds as if they are real news.)

SO what I was saying about me throwing down the gauntlet. I decided yesterday that I am no longer going to politely step all the way around those bulldozer people who are walking in the crosswalk or on the sidewalk or at the store or in the mall while their eyes are glued to their smartphones.

On my walk yesterday I had to flatten myself against a palm tree so that I didn't run into a man who was walking forward on the sidewalk quickly and aggressively while typing on his Blackberry. That is when I decided GAME OVER PEOPLE. At the next crosswalk I found myself squared off against an oncoming lady whose eyes were glued to her phone. I braced myself and stayed on my course and Thwap! When we collided she barely looked up.

"Is that your seeing eye phone?" I asked. She didn't even hear me. Nonetheless, I felt victorious. Bruised, but victorious.

I don't think this is a lasting strategy because I don't actually like people touching me. So I'm thinking maybe one of those loud noise maker thingies may do the trick. Or printing myself a bunch of stickers that say "Hang up and walk!" and slapping them on the backs of passing phonebots. What do you think?

2) Or Maybe I'm Just Grumpy

It's been cold in the early mornings so I've been walking midday when more phonebots are clogging the sidewalks. Perhaps when summer is back and I'm walking again at the crack of dawn I will forget all about them.

3) Why I Can't Get Enough Crazy

I've been captivated by Charlie Sheen's antics because he has completely raised the bar for all future meltdowns. If you're going to catch on fire with crazy my philosophy is that you better do it with gusto. Mission Accomplished! I love it. I love good crazy especially when I am not married to it or working for it.



4) More Stuff I Learned From The Innernet

I follow Martha Beck on Twitter, because she's smart and I learn things. Her blog today is all about sleep and how sleep helps your brain get its act together. (You can read it here.) I've been sleeping a lot the past few months -- more than in the past five years. Which isn't all that unusual considering the ridiculous insomnia I had for so long, but I wasn't sure it would ever end (insomnia feels like a bad soundtrack playing constantly over the movie of your life) and now that I can sleep again I started to worry. Am I sleeping too much? Am I wasting my life? How much sleep can one person need? Am I a slacker for not waking up at 4 a.m. every day like clockwork? Is it lame to go to bed before 10 p.m.? I can drive myself batty with this stuff.

But Martha Beck says it's good for the brain. So I am now officially giving myself a break. Thank you, Life Coach From Afar.

5) While we're at it, let's just give ourselves a break all over the place

I'm starting to understand that in my life there are my little problems and then there is all the big, swirly judgment I heap on myself about my little problems. People, it is exhausting. For the rest of March I am going to live my life and hold off on the ladle of extra-juicy judgy that comes with every bite. I feel better already.

6) I'm Running Up That Hill!

Now it's time to untether from the innernet, put down the twittermachine and go for a walk. I've tried many things in my time to get my mojo unwrinkled. I have sampled many fine wines and many bad ones, too. I have eaten, smoked, juiced, fasted, read self-help, written self-help (hah!) and tried to get my hands on that Secret. On my Quest For Calm I have found activities that I enjoy (knitting, reading, TV binges) and activities that make me feel virtuous (yoga, church, going to Whole Foods).

But after all this time the thing I love most is still a good old fashioned walk. No music, no headphones, just me and my shoes and the sidewalk, thinking and walking and breathing until the tension melts out and the only thing I can feel are my legs moving and my lungs filling with crispy, fortified L.A. air.

It's free. It doesn't take any particular skill, it's as close to meditation as I may ever get. And I'm fast, so if you're on your phone and not paying attention I may just meditate right over you. If you know what I mean and I think you do.

- - -

P.S. Book Club On Monday!

Our online book club meets on Monday to talk about When We Were Strangers: A Novel. I'm finding this book a very fast read, so you still have time to slurp it up and join us on Monday!

Rainy Day

What the hail?

And it's still coming down! Crazypants!

Yesterday, when my troubles seemed so far away

1) I'm going to the courthouse and I'm gonna' get unmarried...

My stint in jury duty was supposed to take place this week at the Van Nuys Courthouse like a normal Valleyite. Valleyer? Valleykrie? Like, whatever! Totally!

I don't mind Van Nuys. Sure, I blame it for losing us Valleytos the critical 2002 vote on Valley secession (who had the bright idea to make Van Nuys the downtown of the Valley? It should be Sherman Oaks or Studio City ALL THE WAY, people!) but other than that I have only fond memories of the many good tacos I have had in Van Nuys and Van Nuys Adjacent. I find that tacos always taste better when they're in close proximity to a bail bonds shop and brother, you can find both in abundance in beautiful Van Nuys, California.

Much to my dismay and alarm, my jury duty service was unceremoniously reassigned to Burbank. There are so many things about this decision that were against nature. For one thing the population/taco shop ratio in Burbank is just pitifully askew and not in favor of the carne asada. Also, the one and only time that I have ever been to the Burbank courthouse was on the day of my divorce hearing which was a very dark day indeed. There were expensive lawyers in short-sleeved dress shirts (oh, the humanity!), there were tears, there were recriminations, there was my angry self in so many pairs of spanx that the oxygen level in my brain dropped precipitously.

That was also the same day I tried to eat a whole lemon icebox pie by myself.

Lemon icebox pie was the pastry I chose for divorcing, as I thought it was appropriately sweet and sour. And I didn't take the pie to court, I left it at home to wait for me until my tearful return. It was not disappointed. My day in court did not go well. That evening I discovered that I could not in fact eat an entire pie on my own but it wasn't for lack of trying.

Oh, those were the days, when I was crazy and didn't mind who knew about it, like when I shook my tiny fist of rage at the bailiff. I was all, "Yeah! Well I'm going to call 1-800-SCREW-YOU but only replace SCREW with a stronger word that is less family friendly!" And the judge who wasn't even a real judge -- he was a commissioner, what the hell kind of lawyer did I hire again? -- said "You are going to be held in contempt!" and I shook my tiny fist of rage and was buoyed out of court on my spanx legs and the arms of my friends and I was taken home to be alone with the waiting pie.

I know with deep certainty that I'm not even close to the same wacky, unhinged version of myself I was on Divorce Court Day but still, just the thought of it kind of made me want a slice of lemon icebox pie. For old times sake.

2) American Idol took four hours of my life, minus all the time I fast-forwarded

Thank God for Tivo, the only way I can live to love American Idol. I tuned in this year on a day-by-day basis, since last year was an incontinent snooze my expectations were low.

What I have discovered so far is this: Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler are kind of awesome. Goofy Southern Belle pageant party dresses from 1987 seem to be making a comeback. Hobbity looking men who play upright bass are kind of sexy. And Colton Dixon was robbed!

I like it. Oh the drama, the tears, the awkward let's-all-hold-hands scenes featuring three boys whose ages when added together equal my own.



3) They say it may snow, say it ain't so

Oh I don't know, some weird rumor is going around that it might snow somewhere. Dallas Raines said the snow levels will drop down to 1500 feet but since none of us living in this city can understand anything other than traffic math, we have no idea where that means the snow will fall.

Freeway distance x hour (rain to the fourth power) - weekends = snow?

A few years ago there were flurries in the Malibu Hills and that was exciting. It was still hot and sunny in the Valley, though, probably because I was still living in Reseda at the time where it stays 118 year round. I'm not worried about the impending weatherageddon, since the newscasters assure us all that everything should clear for The Big Day. The Big Day is coming!!!

4) The Big Day!!

Oscar Sunday is almost here. I have been training for it for months, watching all the best-picture nominees except one, which I have to go see today (Damn you, King's Speech! Making me sprint at the end!)

This is my SuperBowl. I'll be making little nibbly hors d'oeuvre bites and serving sparkling wine and there will be ballots and even a prize for best balloting. There will be fashion commentary and a pre-show and hopefully no snow to mar the red carpet.

Oh, and maybe a lemon icebox pie for dessert. Just for the symmetry of it all.

Something wicked this way came

All I know is that it didn't look this way when I went to bed last night.

She looks so pleased with herself.

Perhaps I have a 28.8 brain in a T1 world

Every now and then I write a lot, spilling out words all over the place. It's been like this forever -- it's not like I just recently started being loquacious -- so I'm surprised to see recent comments from people who say things like, "I don't usually read that much in a blog..." or "I usually can only read a paragraph then I get fidgety." Our attention spans have dwindled down to bullet points and 15-second blurbs.

• Here's a bullet point to break up the monotony of sentences and comma splices!

I don't take it personally. I notice my attention span has rapidly diminished, too. I blame it entirely on the smart phone and the increase in fast internet service. Sometimes I catch myself playing scrabble or solitaire on my phone while I watch TV as if one time-wasting activity were not enough. Nope, I have to double time my laziness. I try to stop myself when I notice I'm doing it because I'm not paying full attention to either activity and I feel scattered and restless. This is usually when I put on my tennis shoes and go for a walk. That flighty and restless feeling almost always means I'm anxious or I need to physically burn some energy.

Everything just moves so fast now, our poor little brains have all gone haywire.

• Haywire brain! Needs bullet points! Likes bold a lot!

Remember when we used to have to wait patiently while AOL made its hissing, scrapping, wheezing, dialup sounds? And remember how long it used to take to load a web page? And remember when people could actually read six or eight entire paragraphs without feeling antsy and needing to click over to something new and fresh? Are you still there? Have you clicked over already?

We so crazy.

Oh wait.

• We so crazy!

One night Jennifer and I were leaving my apartment, out on our way to dinner. The restaurant was in close walking distance, so I took only my keys and my wallet. She was shocked and a little horrified that I didn't plan to bring my phone, too.

"You're not bringing your phone with you?" she asked.

"Nope," I said.

"You're just going to go out... without your phone?" The shock! The horror!

"I like to untether," I said. "Keeps me focused."

She looked at me like I had just announced I was donating all my fingers and toes to science.

"You are crazy," she declared.

• Those people in the crosswalks who are hypnotized by their phones better watch out!

Last week I yelled at someone in a crosswalk. Instead of actually paying attention and walking with purpose across a very busy Los Angeles intersection, she was glued to the mysterious device in her hand and was at an almost complete standstill in the intersection as she typed. The world had ceased to spin on its axis, her entire universe had been reduced to an iphone.

I had the windows zipped down so I hollered at her. Real loud.

"Hey! Stop staring at your phone and pay attention! You! You there! WAKE UP!!!!!! The earth is on FIRE!!!!"

She never heard me or heard the people behind me honking. It was amazing. She was just typing away, clicking on her little cellphone while the world swirled around her.

But I guess I should have just been happy she was able to concentrate on any one thing for that long. Maybe it was a rollicking game of Scrabble. Or a really longass wordy blog with comma splices.

Winners and thanks and the rest of you get started on the book!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the book club giveaway! The five winners chosen at random were Lacy S., Julia, Trisha R., Ginger and Vikki. I alerted the readers who won by email so if your name is on this short list please check your email for a note. Selection is very scientific. Usually I filter out the duplicates then call my mom and ask her to pick numbers at random. Apparently she had better things to do on a Friday night, so I used random.org to pick today's winners. Isn't the internet a weird and wonderful thing? You can order anything to be shipped to you from just about anywhere, you can get the news, watch cats play piano and have random numbers calculated for you at the click of a button.

How did we live without it all those years? What did we used to do? Have actual conversations with live humans in the flesh? So vintage!

I hope you'll find your way to a copy of When We Were Strangers and check back in on Monday, March 7, 2011 to chitchat about the book. The author, Pamela Schoenewaldt, will be stopping by later that week and answering your questions ... all from the secluded, cozy comfort of your own private internet.

Have a great weekend!