I’m sitting in the mostly empty CSz arena half-listening to the post-show notes, and thinking about how I nearly obliterated my Algebra II grade because I spent most of the classes either wanting to strangle a certain classmate for clicking his pen CONSTANTLY or passing notes back and forth with one of my sponsors, who shall remain nameless to protect the inno – well, because it’s polite.

Surprisingly, note passing has inspired me to write about Meg “The Princess Diaries” Cabot’s first not-just-for-young-adults novels, about two people who meet, and form a relationship based solely on email. (As I met my husband on a MUSH, I have some experience with meeting people online), but the novel was entirely in email. Sometime before that, I also read a book about a mother and daughter who communicate almost entirely via post-it notes.

While there are times that my husband and I seem to communicate only in text messages and IM, I don’t recommend this as a normal course of action. There’s something to be said for sitting down and talking face to face…even when he claims I don’t listen to him.

The red team is on stage now, playing a game called Stickerdoodles, in which each player is labelled with an endowment (fear of mermaids is one of them) and while this is funny, it’s reminding me of another kind of label, and a story that absolutely not funny.

It was in sixth grade, in Arvada, CO, when I read The Diary of Anne Frank for the first time, and as such it was my first encounter with that part of history. We weren’t given the actual book, but an abbreviated script from the Weekly Reader because Melissa Gilbert had just been cast in the title role.

But an abbreviated script wasn’t enough, so I had to read the actual diary, and I was instantly entranced, following the tale of this remarkable girl who perservered through so much. The movies don’t really show how far Anne and Peter’s relationship really developed, or the depth of her character, the strength of her spirit, or her intelligence.

It’s not a novel for bedtime reading, but it’s definitely something that should be required reading for all children everywhere.

Five Things is a CSz signature game, and it’s almost always used to end the first half of the show. Right now, R, the ref, is asking for suggestions of mundane activities, sports, and high energy activites, in which certain key items will be replaced by items that have nothing to do with the actual activity (example, if the activity was mountain climbing, the mountain would be a marshmallow, the pitons would be fondue forks, and the rope would be spaghetti), a player who was sent out of the room has to guess the Five Things based on clues given using only mime and gibberish.

Communication is key, of course, but what if you can’t? This was a key element of the novel “The Trumpet of the Swan” which was about a young trumpeter swan who couldn’t. A boy adopts him, teaches him to use his feet to write on a slate, and eventually to play the trumpet, which is how he not only learns to communicate, but also to woo a pretty girl swan.

It’s a beautiful thing.

What’s happening on stage right now is also a beautiful thing, but in a far, far different way.

…is the game currently being played on stage, and the crowd is totally into it, and J, who has led our last two workshops just nailed the clue – Oscillating Superfluous Orangutan.

Orangutan’s of course, figure in the novel that is known as the progenitor of the modern mystery, The Murders in the Rue Morgue, but my introduction to the genre happened in a far less grim tale, and starred Nancy Drew. The Hardy Boys followed soon after, but it’s Nancy Drew who really drew me in, even if her version of Girl Power was rather dated when I first read her adventures.

By the time I entered puberty Nancy was approaching reality – she was allowed to feel tingly when Ned was around, and stuff like that. (Hey, I said ‘approaching’), but really the beauty of the Nancy Drew books is that they are so innocent, so that the story comes first, not the romance.

We’re nearly to the midpoint of the ‘thon, and I’m blogging from ComedySportz DFW. The show’s about to start, and they’ve been gracious enough to let me blog from the show. The house is packed, the crowd is ready, and it’s a good time for a pledge break.

I’m doing this to help raise money for First Book, and I need you to sponsor me. Don’t feel like you have to pledge the farm, $5 buys two books. That’s two kids who get hooked on reading, and on the special pride that comes with their OWN books. (As a comparison, $5 is only slightly more than the average venti coffee drink at Starbucks, and a book lasts a lot longer than a cup of froufrou coffee.)

As an added incentive, I’m offering sponsorship gifts. At the end of the blogathon, I’ll be tossing the names of all my sponsors in a hat, and drawing some names. Three people will get copies of one of the books I talk about during this project, two people will get the a book along with a special gift box that goes with the book (details are a surprise), and one person will get the book, the gift box, and a $10 gift certificate to their choice of Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, or Borders.

So, join me in supporting First Book.
Click here, and sponsor me today.

In addition to wanting to run my own newspaper, I was stagestruck almost from birth, so Sheila, from Judy Blume’s Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great was a character I totally identified with, even though she annoyed me to no end. I, too, wanted to be the ultimate MarySue in my own life, at least in my imagination.

In reality I’m pretty quiet and bookish, situationally shy, and extremely guarded until I’ve been around people for an extended length of time.

But you know what? Most of Judy Blume’s characters were just like me, at least to a degree, and I think this is why her books were so popular among those of us who grew up in the ’70’s and ’80’s.

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Rehena at OpenDiary asked me to clarify the tech I’m using today, and since I need a break from booktalk, I’m making it a post.

First, at home I have a desktop computer that is hardwired to DSL and has wifi access to my husband’s cable modem as a backup.
I also have a laptop that connects to the home DSL via wifi from within the house, as well as subscriptions to the wifi networks at Barnes and Noble and Starbucks, which, as most of my friends and readers know, are two of my most frequent haunts.

But this is DFW not Silicon Valley, so wifi isn’t available quite EVERYWHERE yet. So I ALSO have an aircard cellular modem that is attached to my Cingular account. It’s a pc-card but instead of using wifi it uses the GSM and EDGE networks. Pretty much if there’s a cellular signal, I have access.

But there are some places where popping open a laptop just isn’t practical. Like this morning at the salon, so for that I use my normal cell phone and a service provided by HipCast, which used to be AudioBlog, and should NOT be confused with the similar service provider AudBlog. My HipCast account allows me to essentially record a voicemail coded with a pin number, that is auto-posted to my blog as a link to an mp3. (It also has pod-casting setups, but I’ve yet to play with them.)

My next post will probably be a MoBlog (audio) post from the car.
In case you were wondering.

Any questions?

My friend J in Colorado raises and trains Rottweillers, so it should come as no surprise that it was she who introduced me to the Good Dog, Carl series of picture books about a Rottweiller who ends up in Lassie-esque situations. These picture books are painted pretty realistically, and come in a baby – or DOG-proof version that defies the most intrepid chewer.

Short, sweet, and uncomplicated, they show dogs that many consider scary in a positive and helpful way, and some of them are pretty funny as well.

(It should also come as no surprise that I’ve given J one or two of the indestructable kinds as Christmas gifts over the years.)

(This post dedicated to Zorro and Miss Cleo who are ‘helping’ with the Blogathon.)

I couldn’t limit Little Women to one post.

One of the things that I liked about Jo, was that she was always her own person, which is why it annoyed me that her writing was put aside for the entire duration of Little Men as if her entire identity was now wrapped up in being Mother Bhaer. True, Alcott made her a successful author in the fourth book in the series (Jo’s Boys), but it wasn’t the same.

Even so, I’d have given anything to be one of the only girls at Plumfield. Daisy’s cooking lessons had me laughing, but also made me realize that even if you never cook, you should know how (men and women both) if only so you can survive. And I’ll admit, when I was nine, and had just started cello lessons, I had a bit of a crush on Demi and Nat.

Mostly, though, this book brings me back to my mother’s voice, soft lamplight, snow outside the window, and a single chapter each night NEVER being enough.