Small towns, porn stars, and ghetto Barbie

As you could probably glean from yesterday's post, I have not a damn thing to do. I'm still unemployed, am running out of money, and know a grand total of three people in my new city - my best friend from college, who is uber-busy with school right now, Max, and Max's best friend. Needless to say, there hasn't been a whole lot going on recently. Especially since the apartment pool closed for the summer, something about the lifeguards going back to school, which is a whole 'nother rant about how I don't need a lifeguard, and they never got there on time anyway, and how my tan was getting so awesome, dammit! Whatever.

My solution to my boredom problem is threefold: First, learn how to use the camera properly. This was Max's solution when I walked in to his man cave (his computer room) earlier and declared that I was "so motherf*&^ing bored." Second, pester Max more than usual. Sometimes, as above, it yields favorable results. Third, get a library card. Despite a weird fear of library books (not the books themselves, just the germs that I'm sure they contain. I mean, how many people have held them in their unwashed hands or sneezed or something while reading them? Best not to think of it), I've managed to check out about 20 or so since I went in two weeks ago. Since I'm apparently incapable of finishing one book before starting another, I'm now actively reading 7 of them at once. In no particular order:

Dark at the Roots (Sarah Thyre) - a memoir written by a comedian about growing up in a lower-middle class family in the Deep South. At times, it's really funny, like when she details playing "Poor Barbie" with her sisters. Other times, it's funny and also really depressing, like a puppy that's so ugly it's cute. When the depressing starts to outweigh the funny, I usually have to switch off to something else. In any case, I recommend it if you like David Sedaris-type books, although it doesn't rise to the level of hilarity experienced when reading "Me Talk Pretty One Day."

Way Off the Road (Bill Geist) - a collection of essay-type stories about the author's travels through small town America. I especially liked the bit about the entrepreneur who solves the town's prairie dog problem with what amounts to a giant vacuum.

Bridget Jones's Diary (Helen Fielding) - obviously people know what this is about. A bit trashy, but I like it that way.

Written on the Body (Jeanette Winterson) - can't decide if I like it yet, or what it's about really since I'm only about 10-15 pages in. I think it's supposed to be pretty steamy, and one of my best friends swears by her books, so I'm giving it a try.

The Social Lives of Dogs (Elizabeth Thomas) - an anthropological-type look at, obviously, the social behavior of dogs. I thought it might be dry, but it's much more novel-like than I thought it would be, and I really love it so far. Good for dog people.

Harry Potter 5 - uh, yeah, I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that I'm reading this for about the 12th time, but whatever. Judge me if you want, they're good stories.

How to Make Love Like a Porn Star (Jenna Jameson) - not even sure yet. I'm on page 42, and I'm totally baffled. Like, it starts off like it's going to be a thriller rather than a memoir, and the parts of the book have names like "The World's Fresh Ornament" (that's not even the most mystifying one, trust me). However, I've watched her E! True Hollywood Story about 6 times, so why not? So far though, odd.

And if I could make a recommendation, go get yourself "Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea" by Chelsea Handler. I laughed so hard I had to leave the pool because I was starting to embarrass myself. Just don't read it if you're easily offended. Seriously though, hi-lar-i-ous.