Guess who went out with some fabulous bloggers Wednesday night? Give up? ME. I know, you never would have guessed. First BlogHer, and now TDOT book clubs. I am SO OUT THERE. No longer hiding behind my screen pressing keys, drinking chai. I am OUT THERE. And I love it. I love meeting bloggers because — would you believe? — they are just like me. Well, we’re all VERY different, but we’re all the same in the sense that we’re (for the most part) a transparent people, sensitive, inquisitive, definitely quirky, and we love a good story.

It’s been about, OHHH, four years since I’ve read a book. When I was pursuing a PhD in English lit (COUGH), I often asked myself WHY THE HECK DO PEOPLE READ. I wracked my brain to find the answer. I was such a kid back then. I had no idea. I really didn’t. Because now, the answer is easy: people read to RELAX, to broaden their horizons, to enjoy language, to escape, step into someone else’s life and gain perspective on their own, etc., etc.. As soon as I picked up this month’s book, Loving Frank, by Nancy Horan, my old “why do people read” question was answered.

And then I googled the real-life people this book is about: Mamah (pronounced “Maymah”) Borthwick and Frank Lloyd Wright — lovers in a dangerous time. And, BOY, did I regret it. What was at first so enjoyable THWACKED me with anxiety for the full week or so it took me to read the book. (Remind me, WHY DO PEOPLE READ?) So, if you’re going to read it — which you should because it’s BRILLIANT — don’t google, or DO google and appreciate the freakin’ irony the whole way through.

Talk to me in a few months when I’m over it. The big question in the book, which you can all ponder, is “would you leave, ‘DESERT,’ your kids for love — for love of a ‘genius’?” NO! NEVER! NOT EVER. Not even in 1909. And I can say that for certain even though I’m in 2009. FOR CERTAIN.

And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Petitegourmand, who truly is PETITE (adorable), officially brought me to the TDOT BOOK CLUB when she approached me at the gym last month — just after hotarse kickboxing instructor’s class: “Are you Halley? Haley? Ho? Haley-O?” Hee. We clicked immediately, of course. Bloggers often do that.

Look how CUTE in her swanky studio kitchen….

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Not only is she petite, but GOURMAND…. Look at this FANCY!

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And then there are the OTHERS….

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And they are going to kill me for posting this terrible picture. But that’s NOMO with eyes closed in the blue (ha!), KAREN dipping, the “token” BOY DENGUY looking frightened in the back there, and SANDRA barely visible in the back mid sentence. I didn’t get ANY great photos of the group because I was drinking vino. But, missing from this pic, a whole lot of bloggers: Kittenpie, B*Babbler, Mad (all the way in from New Brunswick), Lisa B and, via twitter, Sandra and Julie (with new baby! CONGRATS!). Whew! That took a long time. Tired.

We had all the best intentions….

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…but there was so much ELSE to talk about (so much). In a nutshell, some of us hated Mamah. Some of us hated Frank. Some of us thought Robert Downey Jr. should play Frank in the MOVIE, and others thought John Malkovich. We all loved the book. We all loved a night out, away from the kids, with interesting blogging peeps and, of course, BOOKS to caress and flip hands through.

The next book on our list is another heavy one (wish me luck): Burnt Shadows, by Kamila Shamsie — an apparently very “ambitious” book. I was going to read a light Candace Bushnell novel in between these heavies, but I could barely open the book. Besides, PetiteGourmand told me to read The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield, and she and I are petite hotarse-kickboxing-teacher-loving twinz, so I listens. I hear it’s AMAZING. Am excited.

And, now I leave you for a day or so, as I drive avec ma petite famille to the country house where we’ll be for a week while big BURLY man with black belt in karate cat sits for us. I’ll still be blogging and working, and definitely reading, and NOT drinking chai lattes because there is NO STARBUCKS in sight for, like, TWO HOURS. And LORD HELP ME if I drive two hours to get a chai…. It’s been known to happen.

I wrote this whole post in my underwear.

Love!

xo Haley-O

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