To be completely honest, after a long week of brain power the last thing I feel like doing in my free time is pleasure reading, however, I have found just the piece of literature to help re-light the spark: Chelsea Handler’s “My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One Night Stands.”

If you haven’t had the pleasure of witnessing her antics, Chelsea Handler is a complete trip with great material and no shame. I found Chelsea several years ago on the Oxygen Network’s “Girls Behaving Badly”, and from there followed her to the E! Network and caught a few stand-up shows — the rest is history.

So last weekend I picked up Chelsea’s book after many months of putting it off (like I said, reading for fun loses all appeal when you have to read for purpose), and headed to a nearby coffee shop to enjoy my book with a nice cup of coffee.

I have never felt like more of a spaz. I barely made it through the first chapter without literally laughing out loud - as in laughing out loud in the middle of a crowded coffee shop filled with students studying hard, sitting all by myself. Talk about being that girl.

It only took me a few more failed attempts to try and hide my laughing before I decided Chelsea’s book was best read in the privacy of my home, where only my roommates would judge me - and I have a feeling laughing while reading isn’t too high on the list.

I continued the rest of the book — yes, I read the whole thing in one sitting — in the living room with all my roommates, who continually asked me about every five minutes what I was laughing at, (the Jurassic park feet reference killed me.) Needless to say, this book became a cult-classic in my household within a week. Read More »

As an English major, I was always under the impression that literary and popular fiction were genres that were fairly at odds with each other (and, coincidentally, you are supposed to like the former and scoff at the latter. My personal tastes tend to run the opposite way). It’s rare that a book can fit into both categories without the help of Oprah, but oh how I’ve found one.

Audrey Niffeneggar’s novel The Time Traveler’s Wife has gained a lot of popularity since it’s 2004 release, making a permanent home in women’s book clubs worldwide because of its earnest and heartbreaking love story. But it’s really so much more than it’s blurb would suggest; it’s also a painstakingly precise, exquisitely written book.

The story is told from the perspectives of Henry and Clare DeTamble, a married couple who have to deal with the complications that have arisen in their lives from Henry’s Chrono-displacement disorder, an ailment that forces Henry to travel through time against his will.

Time travel is usually one of my least favorite genres because it leaves me with too many questions after I’m done watching or reading. Why didn’t the terminator just kill Sarah Conner as a baby? Shouldn’t Marty McFly have known that he was going to succeed at getting his parents back together because if they hadn’t then he wouldn’t be alive to go back to the future in the first place (or even time travel in the first place because Marty essentially tells Doc he would later make the time machine work in Back the Future II?) Stuff like that. I realize that there is a certain amount of suspended belief that one has to assume in entertainment, but it’s still annoying. Read More »