You must know...

That I am about to crap my pants over this:


It comes out June 3. Don't bother calling my house for a few days.

What you missed

So I know I've been away awhile, and that this is not a good start to my New Year's Resolution to Blog More. And I haven't really been doing all that much interesting, but in case anyone needs a quick catch-up:

*I have decided that I really don't like my new haircut. This was preceded by a few days in which I tried really hard to like it. But I just don't. It frizzes out easily, returning to the dreaded Vanessa Cosby Affair, after only a few hours. Also, it makes my face look weird.

*I'm about to finish reading Joe Perotta's The Abstinence Teacher, which is really good, but which I fear is about to come to a very abrupt end. I'm starting to notice a theme in Perotta's books, which I'm not too pleased with, because I never like writers who write the same thing again and again. Which is funny, since my entire thesis really should have been called Look At Me, I'm Ugly and Patently Uncool.

*Ben got my Guitar Hero III for my birthday, which I have already defeated on easy, because I rock hard. I'm now attempting to conquer it on medium, which is proving slightly more difficult, because apparently my pinky finger operates totally independently of the rest of my fingers, and just flails wildly between buttons.

*I've also been playing a lot of Brain Age on my Nintendo DS (I am a Nintendo loyalist, something that perhaps would make a great addition to Look At Me, I'm Patently Uncool Part 2: Slightly Better Looking. I have a brain age of 28, which is pretty impressive for someone who spends most of her time looking at Postsecret.com and reading the National Enquirer.

The biggest news I have is that I'm getting really close to getting back into writing. Not that I have any concrete ideas yet (sorry, those of you holding out for another incarnation of The John Boston Story), but I've been feeling compelled to write down all the weird crap I'm seeing every day, in hopes of sandwiching it into a book. I'm not sure where I'm planning on going, but I'm leaning towards a cubicle-based work drama (too bad for me, since the book Then We Came to the End did just that, and made the top 10 book list in several places). All I know is, I have procured the perfect journal pen, and am now in search of the perfect journal, which generally is either an orange spiral bound college ruled notebook, or a composition book. Both easily acquired at your friendly neighborhood Target, but I'm a little too mired in the Guitar Hero realm to work up the energy to score one.

So wish me luck-- if I do get into writing more, I might have to lay off the blog a bit, but my Write Something, Dammit resolution will generally trump my Blog More resolution if I can ever get up the nerve to get back on the horse.

By horse I mean writing. Not heroin, which I have never been on. Just to make myself clear. Although it might help with my rocking abilities.

You will bow to my Newberry Award Winning novel of awesome

I've been in a bit of a reading phase lately, although sadly, our library book sale isn't until next weekend (Pen, Megs, you lucky dogs). Although I'm currently wrapped up in Lolita-- one of my favorite books, although it always seems kind of pervy to admit, doesn't it?-- I just came out of a Young Adult binge (which seems even pornier when you throw in the Lolita situation), mostly focused around The Westing Game.

For those of you who have never read The Westing Game, I feel great pity and regret for your deprived and squandered lives. While you were out staying fit and basking in the sun, I was hunkered down on the living room couch, reading and rereading The Westing Game, a YA novel with a plot so intricate that I still have trouble fully comprehending it to this day.

This reading was preceded by The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death, and followed by From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, both of which involve probably my favorite YA theme-- young people run away from home and wind up involved with crazies.

All this YA reading has gotten me revved up to write my own YA book, an idea I've been toying with ever since my mentor Joe Mackall kindly informed me that what I thought of as my Very Important Novel With Deep, Deep Meaning would really be a hit with the tween crowd. (I really do think he meant this as a compliment, but as I was expecting to win the National Book Award with it, and not the Newberry, I was a bit bummed.)

I'm not quite sure what my book will be about yet, but I think it will involve the following:

• Doing It


• Unexpected teen pregnancy (not on the part of the narrator, because that is SO DONE)


• Men fistfighting (because fistfighting is hot hot hot)


• Probably some sort of complex series of clues leading to the identity of a killer/the father of the baby/a vast Papal conspiracy

It will probably also be set around the turn of the century, like another of my favorites, The Callender Papers. This, I realize, might hamper my Doing It/unexpected teen pregnancy angle, but could really benefit the Men Fistfighting angle, as men seemed to do that a lot back then.

Kim's Obsessions Du Jour

Thanks, Pen, for the tag-- does it count in the total if I admit that I'm obsessed with being tagged for things? It makes me feel like I got picked in gym!

1. My sudden realization that Hugh Jackman would be perfect as the lead role in the horrible novel I've been writing since I was thirteen. This is a position that has been held, over the course of the last fourteen years, by Mark Harmon, George Clooney, Colin Firth, and, most recently, that big Scottish guy from 300. Of course, it would have to be big Wolverine Hugh Jackman, and not skinny, sort of creepy The Boy From Oz Hugh Jackman.

2. Procuring a new wardrobe, as I have come to the vastly horrifying conclusion that every piece of clothing I own is horrible, and not in a trendy way, but more in a middle-aged blood bank volunteer way. I will approach this scientifically, procuring only those objects that I actually need (black pants that are flatteringly cut and do not pick up lint) and avoid those that I do not (Cherokee cardigans from Target).

3. Riding my new bike, which is currently chained to a lawn tractor in our garage, but which I went to visit a few minutes ago, trudging through the three inches of snow on my driveway, just to reminisce.

4. My wedding dress, which just arrived in town yesterday. Sadly, I have to wait two more months to try it on, which is both good (two more months to get my monsterous double stomach under control, so that it does not explode out of my dress like a muffin escaping a pressurized Pillsbury tube) and bad (two more months of slowly morphing its super-cuteness to hideous Seinfeld Puffy Shirt-esqueness in my mind).

5. The identity of the person who left this comment on my trombone blog:

I also play trombone...I also know kim shable and kim shable knows me

Was it you? (I don't like to name names with all the evil Internet predators out there, so I'm hoping you'll recognize this artfully cropped portrait of the person whom I believe it to be, at least for now.) If not, I'm at a loss... weirdly, I really do know a lot of people who play trombone, so it could be almost anyone...

Not much

This is not the first time I have had nothing of import to say on my blog, but it will probably be the least interesting.

This is mainly because many, many hilarious things are happening in my life right now, and I am not at liberty to discuss any of them, because they could get me fired, or beat up, or put on Santa's naughty list, or all three. So I am forced to keep them to myself, giggling in a high-pitched way at their sadly secret hilarity.

However, this will not stop me from blogging, because I totally dread being placed on the "You Should Blog More" list over at Pen and M's. So here, in no particular order, are some random numbered pieces of information:

1. I am still insanely obsessed with Clapton's "Bellbottom Blues," mentioned earlier; this has only gotten worse since, just this evening, I got a copy of The Cream of Clapton from the library and have been listening to it pretty much non-stop. Turns out the whole CD is good, which shames me, because I have always been a vocal anti-Clapton rabble-rouser.

2. You should read Philip Roth's The Plot Against America. If you do so, please note that it does get more interesting, although you might not believe me when you're in the interminable section about his attempt to run away to the orphanage.

3. Click is the single most misleading movie ever made. Do not watch this movie. It will make you cry your face off, and that is no joke. I sat around the house with no face for about forty-five minutes. It was ugly.

4. I feel that the number of comments on my blog is down, and that makes me sad. I am sad now. Do you know what will make me feel better? If you post a comment. No pressure.

5. Please visit this man's blog. If you like things that are funny, or if you like Marmaduke (which, please note, does not fall into the catagory of "Things That Are Funny"), you will like this blog.

6. Finally, because I feel a blog post without a picture is terrifying and naked, I include for you this picture, which comes up in Google image search when you type "Click Marmaduke:"

Do as I do

Not unlike Pen, I, too, have noticed a general malaise among our Blogs of Note (except, of course, for Ashley, who continues bringing the awesome like it's her job)-- I, personally, have been rather neglectful of late, because I have been too busy doing the following things:

• Getting root canals
• Having my kidneys ultrasound-ed
• Watching the 3rd (and alas, final) season of Arrested Development
• Reading books about girls who had sex in high school, probably in a belated attempt to cover up for the fact that I wasn't one of them
• Attending my butthead cousin's soccer game

Et Cetera.

But more than that, I have been experiencing a general malaise, based largely on my growing belief that, despite the fact that I got into graduate school for creative writing, I am not even kind of creative. I base this belief entirely on the fact that I have never once created a catchphrase.

I am so jealous of people who create catchphrases. Like Daisy's "I less than three..." That totally depresses me. Because I'm like, that's a really awesome catchphrase. And I totally didn't come up with it.

Oh, I'm big on appropriating other people's catchphrases. To the point where, the other day, I had to ask Marita, "Did I come up with the word 'ween?'" Because I really thought I did. But no, I didn't.

And it doesn't help that, around the office, people do an imitation of my boyfriend's catchphrase, which is just the word "sure" spoken with a Wisconsin accent, but still, it's totally catchy, and he came up with it, and he doesn't even work here.

And it's not just catchphrases-- I am also super jealous of T.'s discovery of the Church Sign webpage. Because that thing is totally rad, and I totally can't use it now because it's T.'s thing, and I don't want to be a copycat. So not only have I never come up with a catchy catchphrase, I can't even find awesome webpages to use for awesomeness, as T. did.

So far, the only even remotely creative thing I've done is figure out that I can post to my blog by e-mail, as I am doing right now. But that's not really so much creative as it is devious.

But in an effort to revive the blogscene and ease my own mind, I will attempt to blog more often (and less about my teeth). The way I see it, every entry I write is another chance that a phrase I use will become catchy. And isn't that all we ever dream of?

Dental Day

So I'm leaving for my three hour dentist appointment in about ten minutes-- what an awesome way to spend a day off! But hopefully, by two o'clock this afternoon, all my dental woes will finally be over. Which will free up much of my blogging time to talk about other, much more interesting things, such as:

• I made homemade Chex Mix for the first time yesterday! A nation rejoices; my waistline, it weeps.
• Curtis Sittenfeld's book Prep-- unstoppably awesome. Go get it, now!
• Who's a crochet madwoman? It's me! Believe it, bitches!

Okay, so I lied, the posts won't be any more interesting than they are right now. But at least they won't be about my grody teeth.

Get your read on

I know this book is making face time all over the blogosphere, but seriously, you've got to pick up Eli Hasting's new book Falling Room, because Eli kicks ass and is very near and dear to my heart, and also because if I ever write a book, I know Eli would make his friends buy it. And while my book might suck, Eli's is actually quite rad. So buy it now!

And while you're at it, please please please go buy Joe Mackall's The Last Street Before Cleveland, which also happens to be in the exact same book series as Eli's book. Meaning I have totally eaten lunch with two authors from the same series. I feel like an American Life Series groupie!

Seriously, Joe and Eli are two of the greatest men I know-- please support them.