This is a diary for anyone who has read Look Me in the Eye by John Elder Robison and wishes to discuss it.  It is spontaneous and informal.
In the beginning, when Robison recounts his early childhood, I found myself very sympathetic.  He tries hard to connect with other children and does not understand why he can't.  Robison makes it clear throughout the book that, however it may have looked from the outside, he wanted to connect and wanted friends.  He did not "prefer to play by himself," he had no choice.  
John grows into a far less likable teenager.  Angry and rebellious, he begins playing outrageous and dangerous pranks.  While Robison makes it clear that he is motivated by how hurt he is by the daily rejections he has endured, his pranks generally seem to be targeting the world at large, not the individuals who have treated him cruelly.  Moreover, an arrogance emerges at this point in the story that makes Robison appear unsympathetic and unlikable.

Now a famous remark that French philosopher Denis Diderot included in a letter to a young female friend presumably on the verge of womanhood.  These words haunt me, perhaps because in my experience they ring so horribly true.  I am currently living somewhere in the middle of my own adolescence and that of my children's.  By the time my kids are teenagers, I would like to have made peace with the fact that I used to be one.  Right now?  I can't.

About six months ago, I saw Jessica Seinfeld (Jerry's wife) pimping her cookbook, Deceptively Delicious, on Oprah.  I was glued to the screen.  I don't know why, since my daughter is open to eating vegetables.  She loves asparagus, bell peppers, cauliflower, cucumbers.  Once, when we were having a guest for dinner, she even sneaked all the broccoli before we sat down to eat.  Still, there's no reason not to get extra vegetables in wherever we can.  Also, to let you in on a little secret, I'm lukewarm about most vegetables and have been "sneaking" them into my own food for years.  

I'm in the mood to discuss film.  I have three suggestions, but invite any others that are on your mind.

Ever since I saw Gone Baby, Gone about a month ago, I've been dying to discuss the moral dilemma the film presents, but I cannot find a good place to do it.  If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about.  If not, I don't want to be the spoiler, at least not just yet.

Interesting dilemma. I have never heard of someone complain they were making too much money! It is bizarre. -Elisa

I almost choked on my coffee while reading Abby's simpler than simplistic advice to a reader this morning.  A woman wrote in complaining that she loves her job but is thinking of quitting or asking for a pay cut.    As she explains it

My job is mostly simple work that could be done by anybody -- yet I earn almost as much as my husband, who is a supervisor in a technical field.

I, and I suspect many of you, have about 20 alternative lives in my head.  Different paths I could have taken but, for whatever reason, didn't.  Not necessarily better or worse, just different.  

When I started grad school, I made a list of all the things I probably wouldn't be doing with my life now.  I decided to make a shadow box shrine to each of these things (which I never did...).  One thing on the list that looked accessible was delivering flowers.  It wasn't about the money or the status, I just really wanted to surprise people with flowers.  I got a job I didn't particularly need and, considering that I worked for minimum wage, didn't have time for, delivering flowers at a shop owned by a crotchety and somewhat abusive old man and his sweetish, eccentric wife. I learned that delivering flowers is much like delivering pizza, only with no tips and you have to see dead bodies.  People rarely act delighted--mostly suspicious.  In addition, everyone else in the room is gravely disappointed.  I think people are happier to get their pizza.

Here is, yet, another good diary. Where are the Dr. King children's books? Thank you, Erin! -Elisa

First of all, first of all, when I walk into a bookstore or library in early to mid January, I want to see a Martin Luther King display.  Don't misunderstand--I like Valentines Day.  I'm even one of those rare people who loves the red, white and pink aesthetic.  It warms my heart.  Neither would I advocate commercializing Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  I see little value in the idea of candy Dr. King heads.  

She wasn't Joan Crawford, I just like the title.  I'm referring to my complex and troubled paternal grandmother, who died yesterday.  We weren't close, which was probably for the best, and I was prepared.  So I can't say that I'm grief stricken.  What I am is regretful and sad.  Sad that she had so many difficult times, sad that she was unable or unwilling to take an honest look at herself and make a change, and sad that even when facing death she couldn't let go of her bitterness and anger.

At three in the morning, I heard a knock.  This was followed by cries of "mommy!  mommy!"  My three in the morning self could think of two possibilities--one, that there was a murderer in the house who didn't have the decency to kill me first.  Two, a nightmare.

But there was a third possibility that hadn't crossed my mind.  I entered Simone's room and found that she apparently woken up some time ago and smeared an entire tin of bag balm over her entire room.  

Thank you for posting this great diary Erin! I too had a weird fascination with these twins since seeing them on a talk show...I'm thinking it was Oprah, but I could be wrong. It's always been very difficult for me to understand a child express hatred and racism, especially knowing that we are not born this way. You're right, hatred is NOT a moral. My son is bi-racial, and for a very long time hated being associated with the black side of him. It took a lot of patience, and a lot of communication to get him to see that he is lucky, in that he has two cultures to embrace.  - Gloria

I came across this blurb on Jezebel (thanks, Erika!) about Prussian Blue, a duo of white supremacist musician twins by the names of Lynx and Lamb.  I've been aware of these girls for several years now, and paid attention with perverse fascination whenever I came across information about them.  I was always disgusted, of course, but never gave much thought to the fact that these children were the victims of their parents' agenda, publically humiliating themselves in order to spread their mother and father's hateful world view.

I am so tired.  I don't feel sick at all, but very exhausted.  I don't have the energy to give to dd in our last few months together that I would like.  Also, I just want to feel better.  While I know that there's a good chance I'll just have to wait it out, any advice would be much appreciated.  I'm especially looking for vegetarian diet suggestions.  Thanks, all.

This is not a Hallmark holiday!  It is an anti-war holiday, founded by women who had lost sons in the civil war.  Their hope was that there would come a time when we would all teach our children to hold other human beings in too high of a regard to kill them.  I'm short on time, but Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation is very inspiring.

We're thinking of naming #2 Julia if it's a girl (we find out Thursday!), but we're worried it might be too common.  What do you all think?  Any Julias out there?

Well, I found out Friday that the written part of my comps that I thought I had until mid or late June to due is actually due May 23, so I'm off!