I can’t do it. I just can’t finish reading The Bachelor by Carly Phillips. I’m not sure what it is, but I’m just slogging through the book, making little to no progress. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a difficult time reading an entire novel from Ms. Phillips, as I read Summer Lovin’ a long time ago and experienced similar hardship. I gave her another try because a friend of mine, Cass, swears by her.

Maybe we just have different tastes in writing style. I have no idea. I just know that I’m not particularly enthralled by the story or the characters in The Bachelor.

So, today, I should be lounging around the house, eating and laughing with the family in between reading chapters of a perfectly predictable - yet satisfying and captivating - romance.

Instead, I’m sweating it out in my room with my cousin, watching movies. We’ve already gone through Ryan Reynolds’ Definitely, Maybe - which was adorable, though it moved a bit slow. The only fun part was trying to figure out who was the kid’s mom. We’re not on Juno, because her mother didn’t let her watch it (out of fear that it was advocating teen pregnancy). I argue that the film makes a statement urging young people to reconsider sexual activity (see Juno’s quote, “Just out dealing with things far beyond my maturity level.”)

And since she’s confessed that she’s considering experimenting with her boyfriend beyond “second base”, I’m, ah… concerned. See, I try not to freak out when my cousins tell me things because I don’t want to be that relative that’s just going to be another parent - yell, scream, freak out and maybe try to shake some sense into her. Instead, I try to rationalize with her. I explain my thoughts on the situation, advise her accordingly (in case you were wondering, I am firmly against her gaining more experience, so I advocated careful consideration about all the potential consequences), and pray like hell that she makes the right decision.

But besides that - today is about relaxing. That’s all my family has really done on the 4th of July, which is vastly different from families such as that of my White Knight (in dented armor) who actually do the whole nine and go on vaca (pronounced vay-kay, not vaca like cow in Spanish… which is what my boy BFF thinks I’m saying whenever I write out ‘vaca’.)

The family has arrived to veg out and poke at my fat. I best be off to offer up the fakest smile I can manage while they poke, prod, and pounce on my singleness, citing my fatness as an issue.

I want to think like Margaret Cho. “I know I’m not a fat person, I just have fat parts.”

–

What I forgot to mention is that my cousin and I started out our day horseback riding in Norco, CA.  We got to see the wilderness (so to speak), run our horses through the Santa Ana River, and I managed not to fall off my especially enormous horse named Braveheart.  Apparently, he used to be a racehorse.

Anyway, here’s a few pictures from the ride.  We enjoyed it, the nature, the horses, the sheer terror that overcame me when my horse galloped down a hill and I nearly fell off before I yanked back on the reigns, slamming my thighs painfully against the saddle (and, consequently, my camera which had been in my shirt pocket against my inner thigh) and I now believe that I have the biggest, ugliest bruise ever on the inside of my right thigh.

Enjoy the pics, though.

cousin sitting on the horse

Santa Ana River

going through the River

stark beauty

by osmosis?

Surely it doesn’t work?… At least, it never did for me.

This is what I saw while spending one of my many hours not-writing at Borders.

I confess: I think she’s terrific.

The ’she’ I refer to could be applied to both the author of Rites of Spring (Break), the phenomenal Diana Peterfreund, and to her lead character, Amy “Bugaboo” Haskell. In the third installment of the Ivy League Novels, RoS(b) continues to dish out the intrigue, the developing romance, and a side helping of humor to make a rather satisfying read.

The first two novels in the series, Secret Society Girl and Under the Rose, were both masterfully written and plotted. Diana’s writing style grips the reader from page one, and refuses to lessen it’s grip until you’ve reached the conclusion. One of her strengths is her voice. She plants you in Amy’s head, and you feel like you’re running alongside her as each new experience comes.

In RoS(b), Amy confronts her inner demons about an earlier relationship and attempts to figure out her own emotions on the matter while balancing out her life attempting to protect herself from a rival society’s pranks. When she goes in search of some escape during Spring Break on Rose & Grave’s exclusive island, she finds that pranks follow her and the other Diggirls. As others attempt to unravel the secrets of who’s responsible for the attacks against D177, Amy starts to keep some of her own secrets.

Not to give anything away or anything, but I was totally rooting for the ‘hero’… since book one.

I’d recommend the series to anyone who loves stories filled with secrets and intrigue. And anyone who’s a member of a secret society, fraternity, or sorority. The bond between brothers (or sisters, as it were) can never be broken.

I should know - and so should my sisters. *wink*

Now back to Carly Phillips’ The Bachelor.

The romantic view of knights — at least in my mind — is that they arrive in spiffy, shiny silver armor, all muscle and sex appeal. What happens when you spot one and he’s in squeaky, dented armor, looking ruggedly adorable in this grinning shy-guy kind of way?

A girl like me? Well, she trips a bit, lets her defenses drop a notch, and eventually finds herself in the middle of an unwanted - and possibly - unreturned crush.

And the thing is: he’s still a long way off, on the horizon, with his features a bit fuzzy and his background a little hazy.

But I’m intrigued anyway.

I was in the middle of reading Carly Phillips’ The Bachelor, and last Sunday, when it was just too hot to go home to my non-A/C-friendly family (”the bill!  the bill!” they screech), I went to my local Borders Books & Music, just to walk the aisles, see if anything caught my eye.

I thought I had been armed with my 30% off coupon, but it wouldn’t matter.  I had come to buy a book - never mind that I have cases - see that, plural?  cases - of books at home that I have yet to read.

And I walked, in and out, around, between.  Reading spines, yanking brightly colored covers from the shelves, skimming the back covers… and then–there!

My eyes, by some miracle, landed on Diana Peterfreund’s Under the Rose, which I had already read and loved.  And just there, tucked between UtR & God-only-knows, was Rites of Spring (Break), the latest in the Ivy League Novels - not due out until later in the week!

Gasping, I snatched the book off the shelves, cast a furitive look over one shoulder to see if any other neurotic book-lover was going to sprint towards me, screaming “Nooooo!” as she tackled me to the floor, ready to wrest the book from my grasp!  But since I spotted no one about to do anything of the sort, I clutched the book to my chest and — without caring about appearances, or the fact that I had my $2000 MacBook in my bag, and have never been blessed with an ounce of coordination — I took off in the direction of the register.

All clear! My brain shouted.

I slammed the book down, breathlessly (which is what happens when you’re not exactly thin, and you’re not exactly athletic), and fumbled for my wallet.  I paid, and marched off, triumphant!

Finally, after waiting some unknown amount of months, I had it in my hand.  The book of confessions (or partial confessions, as it were), from inside Eli University’s notorious secret society, Rose & Grave.

And then I sat there.  One hand clutching The Bachelor, the other reverently laid over Rites of Spring (Break).

I vowed to finish The Bachelor before moving on to RoS(b).

… and promptly broke that vow not 24-hours later.

So, currently, I’m savoring the ride through Amy “Bugaboo” Haskell’s topsy-turvy senior year as a Diggirl of R&G.  And waiting for the lovely author, Ms. Diana herself, to get that conspiracy theory website up and running!

Megan Crane’s Frenemies is a coming of age novel that I felt I could relate to (so it seems much of what I’ve been reading lately deals with growing up and/or embracing adulthood).  It spoke to me, mainly because I’m feeling caught in the crosshairs of “adult” and “young adult” and I found the story both poignant and believeable. 

The heroine, Gus (short for Augusta), obsesses - much like a young college student might - about her ex whom she caught cheating on her with one of her so-called “friends”.  Naturally, this leads her on a journey not only to try to get him back and plot revenge against the offending “friend”, but also propels her on a mission to make sure everything goes according to plan so she can arrive at age 30 with the man, the career, and the ideal independent living situation. 

The interesting dynamic in this novel is the ties between friends and pseudo- or semi-friends.  Guys might not understand this concept, but women do.  She’s your friend, but not really.  You have some laughs, maybe go out every so often, but there’s this underlying feeling you’ve got that you don’t completely trust one another.  There’s this fine line between friendship, sisterhood, and competition.  And which category do your “friends” fall into?

Plus, it’s about Gus growing up.  Is a choice or does it just miraculously happen?  Up until recently, I kind of thought it just happened.  Poof, you’re grown.  But every day, I get closer and closer to twenty-five!  And I realize that’s not old by any means, I still find it a bit shocking.  Twenty-five?!  Already?  But, wasn’t high school just, like, two springs ago?  (Um, try seven years ago.  I’m three short years away from my ten-year reunion!).  Thanks to various conversations with a guy I’ll just call my White Knight, I’m questioning that and trying to figure out - like Gus was - how to go about the business of ‘growing up’.

To my chagrin, and everlasting surprise, I am once again flabbergasted by the degree of relateability I find within the pages of Ms. Crane’s well-crafted women’s literature.  Take note, readers, chick lit has more to offer than you might think it does.

Next book on the list: The Bachelor, by Carly Phillips… a traditional romance novel.

The Thing About Jane Spring by Sharon Krum is a rather funny chick lit novel about an all-business lawyer who’s approach to life is very militant and brash.  After she realizes that her approach is more of a turn off than a turn on that sends most men running for cover, Jane decided that she needed to find a perfect model to emulate that always got her man - who better than Doris Day?  And, from that point, she executes a plan that is ridiculous or brilliant, perhaps both, but definitely humorous.

I enjoyed reading this book because it was funny and quirky.  You may not quite relate to Jane herself, but you can relate to Jane’s feelings of “what’s wrong with me?  what is it that I do/say/don’t know that drives men in the opposite direction?”  Now, it may sound as if the solution is to change entirely into someone else, or to fake it til you make it, but I think the moral of the story is not that one is inadequate on her own, but that certain adjustments need to be made when one approach isn’t yielding the result you desire.

Next book on the reading list: Frenemies by Megan Crane.

Well, it’s already summer.  I’ve spent the last month and a half bemoaning the early exit of my Ducks from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, while immersing myself into the “real world” responsibilities I have.  That means, ladies and gents, I’ve actually been doing grown up things like taking care of business, planning events, attending events, supporting my sisters/family/friends, working, and doing a hundred million other things — which, coincidentally, has also kept me out of my local haunts.

Bummer.  I know I’m missed.  (Totally kidding).

So, now that I’ve got a moment - a breather, really, but a moment is entirely too long a span of time for me to actually be “free”, I’ve decided that I need to start cataloguing how many books I read in a year, in a month, whatever.

Honestly, ever since I entered the work force, my reading speed and the volume of books I’ve read has dramatically fallen.  I still read — just not as much as I used to!

Worse, I may not even remember what I’ve read and haven’t read, whether I really liked it, or if it was so-so.

Now, for the second time in my life, I’ll attempt to keep track.  In some kind of twisted way, this is just like when I was a kid and I had to keep track of how many books I read in order to get a prize from the local library or something like that.

Welcome to my personal Summer of Books (i.e. LOVE).

Last month, I read Just a Taste by Deirdre Martin.  I liked this one, but it wasn’t as strong as some of her earlier, hockey-related romances (Body Check, Fair Play).  Still, the hero Anthony Dante - who most will remember as the volatile Italian chef brother of another one of Martin’s hockey playing heroes, Michael Dante - gets his own love story with a French chef opening up her own bistro across from his.  And of course, competition always makes things a little bit heated.  Still, I never really felt for Vivi, the lead female, and didn’t like her sister at all.  I’m not sure what alienated me from the heroine, but a lot of times when I read a novel, I want to feel like I know these characters or I’d like to recognize some of the characteristics in the lead character.  In Vivi’s case, I had a tough time relating — which made it somewhat uninteresting for me.

Last week, I read Names My Sisters Call Me by Megan Crane.  I was surprised by this book because I didn’t expect to like it.  I was waiting for the vapid, shallow, poorly written novel to bore me to tears.  What happened was, in fact, quite the opposite.  I adored this book with it’s conversational first-person narratation.  I didn’t just feel like I was inside Courtney’s head, I felt like her.  I’d been in her position.  I knew what she was feeling, and exactly what it was like, facing your first love head-on - and I understood the unbalanced feeling that comes with it.  Her characters were lively, if sometimes eccentric, and the storyline was believable.  My only criticism is that Lucas, the fiance, is almost too-sweet-for-my-teeth.  Other than that, the sisterly relations between Courtney and her two older sisters, the over-controlling/micro-managing Norah, and the artistic uber-cool-drama-queen second eldest, Raine, is an interesting look at sister dynamics.  At times, Courtney’s self-examination regarding her absentee father is kind of repetitive, but otherwise, it’s a good story that convinced me to pick up yet another Megan Crane novel - Frenemies.  I’d recommend the novel to anyone that thinks, like I used to, that chick lit was empty, silly, and solely about shopping for the perfect pumps.

This week, I’m reading The Thing About Jane Spring by Sharon Krum.  My thoughts are forthcoming, as I’m nearing the novel’s climax.

I want to see how many books I can read in a summer.  And maybe after that, how many I can get through in a year.

As for you?  Get reading.  Pick up anything I have, or take a look at what’s on my bookshelf and find something you might be interested in!

Today was a more relaxed day than any of the previous days. We started our day with a trip out into the ocean. For some reason, we were still pretty tired, but I figured nothing does a body better than a morning swim! And in Hawaiian waters, too!

It was too bad visibility wasn’t too great, but still. I was the first to slide down the back end of the boat, which had a slide. Down the slide and straight into shockingly salty water. I mean, California waters are incredibly different. Salty, sure, but this was… almost like I took the salt shaker, took off the top, and poured it straight down my throat. It was cool waters, but not cold. There were some floating toys around, including a kayak and a floating trampoline. I was able to climb into the kayak, but my dad couldn’t quite get in and Megan and my mom were on the boat freaking out.

Decked out in snorkel gear, my mom and Meg were hopping from one flippered foot to the next squealing. Terrified, they dipped in and hopped out. Not five minutes were they in the water before they retired to the deck. Everyone chickened out, including my dad who had insisted that we go snorkeling in the ocean in the first place.

My dad, after he was unable to pull himself into the kayak, swam back to the boat and didn’t re-enter the water.

I was the lone snorkeler on the snorkel tour. It was kind of like the Discovery Channel, live and in person. A school of fish was nearby, though I refused to get too close. Other pretty fish I don’t know the names of were spotted, and I also got to see a turtle and a sea urchin. It would’ve been better if I could’ve seen more things, but it wasn’t as sunny today as it could’ve been.

Then we ate, returned to the hotel where I crashed for four hours. After that, we walked the beach and around the Royal Hawaiian snapping pictures. Then we went in search of food and Li Hing Mui Gummy Bears for my friend S. I figured that I was able to find a pink coral necklace for a friend of mine, I damn well should be able to find gummy bears. Yeah, well, it was hard. For three days, every store I walked into, I asked about it and no one had it. I finally got a tip from someone and while I was meandering about searching for a suitable restaurant, I spotted this enormous ABC store - and they, miracle of miracles, had it.

We bought every last one they had. (There were only 5).

By then it was time to return to the hotel. Tomorrow, we hop a plane and head back to California. I’ll be back at home circa 9:30pm. Whoop, lovelies, it’s time to say Aloha… this time, meaning Goodbye.

And if I start sporting a flower in my hair, don’t hold it against me. I’ve totally fallen in love with this place.

My mother says if we wanted to move here, Meg and me have a job waiting for us. Meg as a dancer (she did Polynesian and Tahitian dancing as a kid), and as for me? Well, I’d be doing snorkel tours, water tours, swimming and lifeguarding jobs.

Definitely an idea… except, it means that I’d have to give up my hockey addiction.

… Yeahhhh… that’s not going to happen.

Translation: Goodbye, moolah.

Last night, I was so cracked out on lack of sleep and exhaustion, I have no idea what I even wrote last night. Meg and I passed out after I wrote the post for yesterday (though, truthfully, there were moments as I was writing it that I was falling asleep at my computer). I think that was around 11 or 12 Hawai’i time. My mother kicked us both out of bed at the ungodly hour of SIX AM. And no, not to go surfing.

No, she woke us up for a walk on Waikiki beach.

That was taken on my camera phone, so if it’s low quality, I apologize. (It comes up looking pretty good on my computer!.

Anyway, after that, we hit the local Mickey D’s… which featured a menu with SPAM! It was pretty funny to see. Meg and I were highly amused while remembering the reaction other folk had to seeing SPAM everywhere (particularly SPAM musubi). The Canadian couple we had befriended thought it was quite funny. The Americans from the East (NJ) were appalled. The locals told me, “Yeah, you either love it or you hate it.”

It was news to us, as we had grown up eating SPAM with no qualms.

We must’ve stuck out some (but maybe it was the sand stuck to my legs/jeans) because a local surfer stopped by our table and offered to teach us how to surf. We thought about it, but the day’s plan changed from visiting North Shore to just shopping. What happened?

We were running out of time since we had scheduled a sunset dinner cruise that we needed to be ready for by 3pm. So, we spent the day shopping instead.

And that’s when I kissed my money goodbye. I went to this international marketplace, where I was able to get my blue pearl (from the Pearl Factory) checked on. Even though that cost me the fattest penny - the price of three dinner-and-shows actually - but at least I know that I can keep that piece of jewelry forever. The way it works is you pick an oyster… any oyster. Then they did a little tradition where you tap on it three times and call out, “Aloha!”. He rings the bell, then pries the oyster open. He locates the pearl, pops it out and says it’s beautiful. Well, my first one was a pretty cream colored pearl. My second? A breathtaking blue pearl. Apparently, there’s only a 7% chance of nailing the blue pearl. He got super excited, and that’s the one I had to have set… so, now it’s in a ring called “The Wave”. It’s a pretty piece of jewelry I’m proud to say is my first major jewelry purchase. If you know me at all, you know that I’m a pretty simple chick with minimal jewelry. I’m more of a big earring girl.

Speaking of, I bought these coconut shell earrings that are enormous. After that, I somehow got talked into buying a ton - and I mean a TON - of plumeria-themed jewelry. LOL. I got a little obsessed. I even started wearing flowers in my hair (yes, advertising the fact that I am, indeed, single - hint hint, B.S. … j/k). It reminded me of high school, actually, because back then I was very into all things Hawaiian. I’m still into it now, but I guess work kind of limited my collection of Hawaii-themed t-shirts.

I also made the mistake of walking into The Stupid Factory (where boys are made) store (David & Goliath brand)… and I say “mistake” because I can never enter that store without buying something. Sure enough, I snatched up two magnets because they reminded me of people that would appreciate it.

If you don’t know what The Stupid Factory is, they’re responsible for those famous art posters/mugs/paintings/etc that have drawings and funny quips.  For example, “Boys are stupid.  Throw rocks at them.” is the most famous one.  There are others such as: Miso Hot (picture of Miso Soup), Peas on Earth (picture of green peas holding hands over Earth), Size Does Matter (picture of an elephant), One Night Stand (picture of an actual one nightstand w/ a lamp), and some of the other ones I’ve seen include: “Rock is dead, long live paper and scissors” (picture of rock w/ X’s for eyes… and paper and scissors celebrating).  “I will not kiss the boys in class” written like “I will not chew gum in class” on a chalkboard, and one of my personal favorites - a picture of a spoon and fork, w/ the words reading, “SPOONING LEADS TO FORKING.”

Anyway, I nailed down all the gifts and trinkets today and am now… just broke. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to spend money here. *Sigh*

The evening was spent on a sunset dinner cruise with my parents. It was very pretty, but somewhat cloudy so I didn’t get to enjoy that orange sizzle that is usually on those postcards. Actually, the prettiest thing on the cruise was the lights of the Island when the sun was down. I tried to snap some pictures of it, but it’s pretty difficult to do while you’re on a moving boat and it’s tough to focus your camera. Then I did a little dance with my dad and came back to the hotel at 8pm, entirely ready to turn in. After all, I was so tired already… I had fallen asleep on the bus ride to the dinner cruise. C’mon now, food should’ve been enough to keep me awake, right?

By the way, I attempted to locate a few requested items - a quest that was met with mixed results - (pink coral necklace for Jess? Check. Gummi bears covered in red powder who’s name I forget? Not in the ABC Store… I’ve got to locate some kind of candy store…).

And now… it’s time to catch some zzz’s.

Oh… and aloha has to be my new favorite word.  LOL.