Dewey to the Rescue.

Reading for salvation. Isn’t that what prisoners in good-standing do? Oh, no…that’s right, they find god. Well, close enough. This qualifies as my first official attempt at finding my own god—a god walking among us in the form of a real-live girlfriend in this skinny-forsaken place.

I have joined a Book Club online. It is for “fun” gals, thirty-something (or younger). I don’t know if this is my true salvation. But a book, a laugh and a margarita at a bar without kids is about as near to heaven as I have been in a good, long time.

The book…The Bachelorette Party a novel by Karen McCullah Lutz. I know what you are thinking—can I possibly grasp it? Will it be too deep? Too dense? Too esoteric? Well, relax. Along with checking the book out of the library, I also picked up the Cliff Notes on the literary masterpiece. I don’t know that I will master the prose, but not to worry—I will not embarrass myself. If it weren’t for Pink Monkey, I might be too shy to show myself as a serious reader.

To be honest, the book choice was a bit of a relief. I only have 3 days to read it and I would rather not spend my Wed. night with a bunch of intellectuals who take themselves too seriously discussing the proper uses of punctuation. I think margaritas and a raunchy summer-reader might prove to be just what the doctor ordered. I am once again, optimistic, but we shall see.

I have to get back to reading, all the while boiling pasta and chasing down my “lost” ice cream invoice. The kids are being remarkably tolerant. Perhaps it's a sign. Tomorrow I make my debut at the booky, fun-gal, fest. Keep your fingers crossed. Hopefully, I will be the one dancing in the corner with a lamp-shade on my head and Melville Dewey at my side!