Monday, July 19, 2010

My favorite memoirs...

Sometimes when something is hugely popular, I avoid it. Not sure why that is (but I suspect it has its roots in the unfortunate incident of my reading The Celestine Prophecy.) Anyway, I resisted Eat, Pray, Love for a really long time, then finally broke down and got my copy after a close friend and I started a cozy two-person book club and chose EPL because it was about a woman's journey of self-discovery, which was something we had been discussing.

Anyway, the book is lovely, and I consumed it with the same relish that the author would consume a pizza in Naples. Elizabeth Gilbert meets the world as a friend, which I found endearing and instructional. She is witty and charming and, at moments, self-deprecating and unflinchingly honest; I found it impossible not to like her. And, while I learned a lot about Liz Gilbert and the world from reading this book, I also learned a thing or two about myself (and I didn't even have to scrub floors for five hours a day in India to do so. Thank you, EG.)

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LOVED this book. Witty and poignant.

I would read about a lot more dysfunctional families/odd childhoods, if the tellers of the tales were as good as poet Mary Karr. Her follow up, Cherry was also great and I'm looking forward to her latest, which is called Lit.




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I don't remember where I first read about Among the Porcupines. It was in an article, possibly--probably--in Vogue magazine, which I read religiously for years though its featured $10,000 size-0 dresses are about as practical as a rocket ship.

Anyway, Among the Porcupines was an irresistible rags-to-riches and riches-to-rags story that featured supporting characters like Walter Matthau, Gloria Vanderbilt, Charlie Chaplin, and Truman Copote.

I was--and still am--quite taken with Carol Matthau. I'm sure that I will never relinquish my copy of this book.




Saturday, July 17, 2010

Kimber Gets a Haircut

I'm lucky enough to have two careers that I love, but because both writing and medicine are exacting professions, sometimes it's hard to focus on anything but those two things. Other parts of life tend to fall by the wayside...like raking the leaves in my yard (thank goodness I have big privacy fences or my neighbors would be appalled!). So the subject of my hair came up recently. I have wavy hair that's quite prone to Helter Skelter moments. My hair is, in fact, an excellent example of the scientific principle that things tend toward entropy.

Anyway, a few weeks back, I noticed that I'd been wearing headbands almost daily. I thought in exasperation: Who am I? Alice about to enter Wonderland? (Sighing heavily.) I am not a little girl. Not for a long time. And call me crazy, but I'm of the opinion that headbanded hair isn't really a look that a grown woman should sport much outside her own castle, er townhouse.

So I made the appointment with a certain amount of trepidation. When it comes to styles, my hair tends to be of the mindset: When in doubt, mutiny. So often after a drastic haircut, it's disaster, followed by regret, followed by another haircut to salvage things...

Enter Shayla, a gorgeous hairdresser at an upscale salon. I told her I was cutting my hair off and she was so enthusiastic about the prospect that I couldn't help but be enthusiastic along with her. Originally we were going for shoulder-length, but I did warn her about the curl phenomenon. Shorter = curlier = shorter than intended by the haircut.

At one point she asked, "What do you put on your hair to make it curly?" My dry response, "Water." And the strands rose up in rebellion, as they are prone to do. And the voice in my head was like...this is going to end badly. Most people can't do jaw-length, least of all you.

But it turns out Shayla is to hair what Tammy Jo is to pastries. Cut and snip, and shape and snip, and chat and snip, and miraculously, I got a short haircut that is fabulous. It loops and swoops and shimmies and bobs with such attitude. For once, my head owns its curls and cowlicks without a post-shower wrestling match with exasperated me.

So in the middle of July, I'm giving the kind of thanks that's usually reserved for a late November around-the-turkey-dominated-table toast:

Here's to everyone who is talented at what she does!

xoxo,
Kimber

P.S. By the way, Shayla loves paranormal fiction, which does, in fact, make her the most awesome hairdresser since Johnny Nguyen. So today I dropped off a couple of Southern Witch books, in addition to giving her a sneak peek at an excerpt of the young adult paranormal I'm thinking of debuting on my website. After all, one wonderful creative turn deserves another, right?

Kissing the Suspect Release!

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