She's Come Undone

After Memoirs of a Geisha I became a believer in Oprah's Book Club. Secret Life of Bees gave credence to my choice and She's Come Undone has sealed the deal. Like I always say, "First time is just chance, second is coincidence, but three times...that's a pattern!"

The book isn't a page turner but I couldn't help but turn all the pages this weekend as D'Souza complained about how much work he had to do and procrastinated. He put up shiny, new ceiling lamps we had purchased this Saturday from Home Depot and installed an Ikea mirror in the shower. No, you sickos, he wants to shave his tough beard in the shower so he needs it to ensure minimun chin cutting.

Dolores Price the unlikely heroine is given voice by Wally Lamb. Just as I had balked at Arthur Golden's penning of that geisha's story this book had me checking the jacket cover just to validate--a MAN wrote this?!

Incidentally, I kept imagining Dante Davis--Dolores' husband--to be a spitting image of a boy in my writing class I recently learned was engaged. Not sure why...something about vulnerability and being a writer. Something about being rail thin and tall; teaching English to high school students--all meshed together seemed complete--Dante D=Brian G.

I won't give it all away but I will say that fight as we might we are prone to model the mistakes of our parents--therapy and food can only create awareness or avoid facing it--it won't shake behavior off its trajectory. The other big message in the book was "Take a risk. Engage outwardly." Not lessons I needed to learn, but in the spirit of relating to the novel and identifying with the protaganist I took it all to heart. I'm not an emotional eater but I found myself drowning in it as I read...mirroring Dolores Price.

Reading about depression slapped a bout of it into me: I couldn't get out of bed until nearly 1pm today. I remembered how I had battled the urge to stay in bed for the majority of my junior year of high school. How I'd fought against it my freshman year of college--the year I spent mostly hungover. How living in a windowless room last year had sent me spiralling back to sleeping through stress to avoid my problems and the people who questioned this choice. Renewal through slumber I defined it, but it really was escapism. Avoiding the harsh truth of living...nay, surviving...coping via not dealing.

I have a window now. I have D'Souza. I have my health. I have Luckey. I have a job--of sorts--I'm taking this great writing class...what more is there? My life is good. Grand even, as Norman liked to say. What possible right did I have to be depressed?

Sitting at home all weekend spooning Haagen Dazs chocolate chip cookie dough into my mouth waiting for the morsels I spoonfed D'souza to melt on his tongue before I could put more in him before it found its way into me.

I'm not Dolores Price. I'm not Dolores Price. I'm not Dolores Price.