molls...she wrote

choking to death on my own vomit and other stuff

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Wed, 07 May 2008 10:51:43 -0700

I snapped this picture when I was leaving Boarders last night with my copy of Barbara Walter's Audition. It's the first book I've bought on the day it came out in... forever, if not my entire life. I only got about 50 pages in last night before I fell asleep (I was working until midnight!) but so far it's great. I will probably be discussing the book a lot as I'm reading it, which should take a hot minute because it's HUGE and I don't have time or energy for anything these days.

Kendall is coming over tonight and we're meeting with the director of our stage show. Kendall just made a UCB Harold team, Internet. My girl's a fucking big deal. You don't even know about it. Actually, that's what I was taking her headshot for (she went with the second one, for anyone who hasn't been following in the comments).

Oh, and here's this sweet video we made about being women:

Kendall & Molls: Securing a Husband (aka Finding Happiness)

Ironically, as I was preparing to post this video today, I came across this blog. I nearly choked to death on my own vomit.

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no, but i've seen the movie

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Fri, 14 Mar 2008 12:09:24 -0700

ready mcreadread

My hair is inexcusable and I'm wearing the sweater I went out in last night still, but look! I ordered the novella and it came today! Yeah, mail!

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lolz

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 19:29:28 -0800

Barnes & Noble apparently overestimated the demand for this one.

To their credit, I didn’t see any copies of “The Templar Code for Dummies.”

via BUS YOUR OWN TRAY

My friend Spiegs cracks me the fuck up sometimes.

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a million bubbles

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 20:09:06 -0800

It wasn't anything I'd planned on, but at the age of twenty-two, after dropping out of college and traveling back and fourth across the country a few times, I found myself back in Raleigh, NC, living in my parents basement. After six months spent waking at noon, getting high and listening to the same Joni Mitchell record over and over again, my father called me in to his den and told me to get out.
He was sitting very formally in a big comfortable chair behind his desk, and I felt as though he was firing me from the job of being his son. I'd seen this coming and it honestly didn't bother me all that much. The way I saw it, being kicked out was just what I needed if I was ever going to get back on my feet
"Fine" I said. "I'll go. But one day you'll be sorry." I had no idea what I meant by this. It just seemed like the sort of thing one should say when being told to leave.
My sister Lisa had an apartment over by the University and said that I could come stay with her if I didn't bring my Joni Mitchell record. My mother offered to drive me over, and after a few bong hits, I took her up on it.

That is the first part of the David Sedaris essay, A Million Bubbles. I love it. You should go buy a bunch of his books and read them all over and over again.

He makes me feel normal in a totally good way.

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a million little pieces

nobody@vox.com(molls) — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 14:51:22 -0700

I've been reading James Frey's A Million Little Pieces this week and I feel compelled to write about it.

I obviously heard of this book quite some time ago, as it's been in the news for a while. I'd seen it sitting at Boarders on one of my many book binges and hadn't been compelled to buy it. Recently I saw a copy of it for fifty cents at Out of the Closet and decided to pick it up despite the fact I didn't plan on reading it any time soon. The other day I was sitting around my place lecturing myself on getting my life back together and I figured maybe if I started reading more again things would start falling into place. I don't understand my logic either, perhaps something about bettering my character through education, but I don't know for sure.

The big controversy surrounding this book has to do with the fact that Frey shopped it and sold it as a memoir, but it turned out to be a work of fiction. The person who stirred up most of this drama was Miss. Book Club herself, Oprah Winfrey. I have to say, I usually agree with my girl Oprah, but this time I'm simply not with her. She's pissed because she got tricked. She's mad because she was moved by what she thought was a personal account and it turned out to be mostly made up. Get over yourself, Oprah. It's a fucking great book... Incredibly moving and incredibly well written. The style of the book would annoy me if it wasn't so spot-on, if the rambles didn't sound like real thoughts ripped out of the head of the person next to you on the subway.

What I love about this book is what I love about Catcher in the Rye... the story itself is so specific that it's not really relatable for the average person, but the emotions are conveyed in such a clear and honest way that you may as well be reading about yourself at times. The feelings of guilt, remorse, self hatred and hopefulness are feelings we have all felt in some capacity and to read these words on paper make you feel triumphantly human. You know, all "Oh yeah! It's totally normal to feel that way! I win!"

Highly recommended.

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