About my relationship with ants: I mostly don’t like them. When I was six or seven-ish, I stepped in an ants’ nest across the street from our Azalea Place home, ants crawled up my legs and into my sneakers, I wet my pants and the neighbor lady brought me home crying. At WSU, I lived in a scary, porn-studio-esque apartment one summer and poured a bowl of cereal for breakfast AND IT MOVED, crawling with members of the same ant family that had, only days before, feasted on whatever food shred I’d left in my toothbrush. I didn’t wet my pants, but I will say that I haven’t eaten Raisin Bran since 1989.
So I am, understandably, undelighted to lift a concrete block from its station on my empty lot and discover a swarming colony of formicidae Hymenoptera. You can crow all you want about ants and their mind-bending feats of organization and industriousness, but to me they’re still shiny, squirming, crack-penetrating dirt-diggers and they can’t be trusted. Not so millipedes, with their even more pronounced wriggly shininess and the way they look like miniature thousand-legged land-dwelling eels. But millipedes (thankfully) don’t bunch together in teaming armies of ick. They’re lone operators, and you know when you see one, it’s not going to be immediately following by a thousand others that swarm over your half-eaten turkey-and-avocado sandwich while your back is turned and skeletonize it 2.3 seconds.
Wasps, potato bugs, earthworms, and spiders are among the creatures that call my future home their current one. I’d feel guiltier about displacing them if I had more fondness for insects; I’m hopeful that they’ll find other accommodations as the project progresses and their hives, colonies, nests, and holes are molested by the excavator and crushed by the inevitable turquoise construction-site Porta-Potti. The “really big mouse with the long pink tail” witnessed by my ten-year-old helper Miles, however, can go ahead and slither under the next approaching WTA bus.
I feel worse about the eradication of the flora than I do the fauna. Although you’d never know it to look at the withering cacti in my home, I am a plant person. If it were nutritionally feasible, I might actually become a carnivorian, and not just because I hate the taste of cauliflower and cabbage. It pains me that I won’t be able to salvage all of the greenery on my lot. The house has been designed specifically to spare the chestnut and maple trees on the south side, as well as the shrubbery that forms a natural fence along Donovan Ave. and Arlene’s place to the west. What I can’t save, sadly, are the twelve-foot lilac bushes in the northwest corner (future garage), the huge alder in the center of the lot (future kitchen), the holly bushes—dangerous skin-scraping beasts though they are—and the wild raspberry plants scattered around the property (future everything).
Walking away from the property to my for-now home, I step over a beetle on the sidewalk, hesitant to hear the crack of its tiny shell under my dirty foot. I look back at the lot and see both a house, and a home. A 6000 square foot biosphere alive with a million squiggling, tunneling, worming pieces of the universe. The dirt and rocks, the flowers, the trees, the rustling leaves—it’s a wonder that we can build houses or drive cars or eat anything for the beauty of it all.
I’m feeling very Darwin right about now, very Survival Of the Fittest, and not necessarily in a good way. In order for me to build my shelter, I have to disrupt the homes of these ants, millipedes, rats and spiders I claim to have no warmth for. I have to uproot trees that have known no other ground. I have to balance my This Is the Way the World Works sentiments against the reality that once again, the strong overpower the weak just because we’re bigger and we have sharper, noisier tools. Then again, those ants might just be back.
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach NEW 4/10/08 Mary Roach is the funniest science writer on the planet, and her latest book about the history of sex is proof positive. In Bonk, Roach relays the strange history of sexual research and its findings in prose that is candid, funny, and informative. I've never read such a thorough, intelligent book about such a fascinating topic--and I encourage anyone who has even the slightest interest in human sexuality (and let's be honest here) to enjoy what Roach has discovered and exposed. Fascinating, reassuring, educational, and highly entertaining.
Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure NEW 3/27/08 The memoir has taken a beating in recent years, with the "true" stories of various writers being exposed as fabrications. The editors of Smith Magazine, an online journal, have remedied this by challenging writers to tell their life stories in just six words. Think it can't be done? Guess again. This fun collection is perfect to keep in your car for those long waits at lights.
Flushed: How the Plumber Saved Civilization by Hodding W. Carter NEW 3/2/08 Some folks think bathroom reading is a crass pasttime, but I personally appreciate a well-placed basket of books and magazines. Hodding Carter doesn't discuss the porcelain library in his book, but he does talk about how this space is sacred--how the bathroom, and its accoutrements fundamentally alter the way we live. A history of the toilet, and plumbing in general, makes for a fascinating chronology of how humans have, and continue, to manage their biological functions in ways that serve themselves, and their environment, more effectivelt and safely.
Things I've Learned from Women Who've Dumped Me edited by Ben Karlin Just in Time for Valentine's Day!!! This very funny collection includes essays from some of the best-known names in humor writing, including Seattle's own Dan Savage and a number of TV writers and comedians. Among my favorites in the collection were Savage's article, "I Am a Gay Man," "A Dog is No Reason to Stay Together," by Damian Kulash, and Bob Odenkirk (of Mr. Show) 's "Nine Years is the Exact Right Amount of Time to Bed in a Bad Relationship."
The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz NEW 1/30/08 Reducing Choice: 1. Choose when to choose. 2. Be a chooser, not a picker--reflect on what makes a choice important and know when to spend time making a decision; avoid being passive in the face of overwhelming options. 3. Satisfice more and maximize less--learn to accept "good enough" and be happy with it, rather than always striving for The Best. 4. Think about the opportunity costs of opportunity costs--limit the amount of time spent thinking about the attractive features of the options we don't select. 5. Make your decisions nonreversible. 6. Practice an attitude of gratitude. 7. Regret less. 8. Anticipate adaptation--know that the excitement of new purchases will wear off, and prepare for it. It doesn't mean you made a bad choice. 9. Control expectations by minimizing the number of options you consider, being a satificer rather than a maximizer, and allowing for serendipity. 10. Curtail social comparison. Life is not a competitive sport. You don't win by having the coolest toilet. 11. Learn to love constraints.
The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs NEW 12/20/07 Esquire writer A.J. Jacobs, whose last book, Know-It-All, chronicled his quest to read the entire Encyclopedia Britannica, has accomplished another unusual feat. In his new book, he reveals his experiences as a secular Jew attempting to live an entire year by following, as literally as possible, the edicts for behavior established in the Old Testament. The result? An often hilarious, frequently thought-provoking, and extremely enjoyable examination of religious belief and behavior, morality, and the strengths and weaknesses that make us human.
Escape by Carolyn Jessop NEW 11/26 After eighteen years of marriage to a polygamist member of the FDLS in Colorado City, thirty-five year old Carolyn Jessop fled her husband with her eight children to begin life anew outside the organization that threatened her life and happiness. As one of six of Merril Jessop's wives, Carolyn was subjected to abuse, infighting, and the neglect and mistreatment of her children by both Jessop and some of his wives. Her story, while not a literary masterpiece (to say the least) is nevertheless a riveting and extraordinary look into one of the most bizarre communities in modern America.
Skinny Bitch by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin Touted as a "non-nonsense, tough-love guide for savvy girls who want to stop eating crap and start looking fabulous," this is far from your ordinary diet guide. The authors are both former models, but Barnouin has a Masters degree in nutrition, and the book is loaded with research about what to eat, what not to eat, and why. Their main suggestions--eliminate meat and dairy are supported by lots of data, but the reading is never dry. The authors aim at a sassy, almost in-your-face, pull-out-the-stops guide to convince you that eating right is hard work but worth the effort.
Watching Baseball Smarter: A Professional Fan's Guide for Beginners, Semi-Experts, and Deeply Serious Geeks Zack Hample's guide to baseball is a funny, insightful overview of the sport for new viewers. In it, he offers a guide to pitches, plays, and strategies, as well as thorough glossary, lots of must-know trivia, and answers to important questions like "why do baseball players scratch themselves so much?" and "which positions are never played by lefties?" A must-read for anyone who loves baseball, is forced to watch it, or just wants some good lines for the staff room besides that old chesnut about the designated hitter rule.
Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas I just finished reading Chuck Klosterman's collection of essays, and I was sorry to turn the last page. Reading Klosterman, for me, is like going on a date with someone super funny, sassy, and smart, with the added benefit of not having to shave my legs first or put out afterward.