Aaaaah, book club

Just a fun night out with the girls where we read the world's most depressing books.  Murder, rape, drug abuse, molestation, childhood cancer, infanticide, root canal without anesthesia...we've covered them all and then some in just 300 pages or less.  Seriously, that's our page limit.  I can and have read books of that length in several hours while most of the group can't read that much in a month.  Someone suggested we read a children's book next time which could be interesting, I guess, and may be our only option since a 300 page limit is really, well, limiting.  Next month we are reading "The Great Gatsby" which I feel like I should be ashamed to say I've never read but whatever, I've read plenty and it's not a contest.  I also feel like I should be excited to read it but I'm not although I'll read it anyway.  For some reason, it makes me think of Robert Redford.  Was he in the movie version or am I crazy?  Hopefully, nobody will get raped and no children will burn themselves cooking hot dogs while their parents drink themselves into a stupor.

Last night's selection was "Plain Truth" by Jodi Picoult.  (I read it last year; I've read most of the books they suggest long before the group but whatever.)  It was very good, cheesy romance and dead baby aside.  We didn't discuss it for too long b/c the reading group questions were bizarrely long and we didn't care that much.  The only one I could have answered was, "Which character do you identify with the most?" That would be the main character who missed her sister so desperately that she imagined her spirit returning.  (Lucky bitch.  I'm way too grounded for that and the worse off for it.)  Even though these ladies seem to love death and sorrow if their selections are any indication, there was no way I could go down that road.  Not out loud, never out loud.  So, I kept my trap shut and imagined how the ghost of Jon would have enjoyed the discussion of Pregnant Girl's fake boobs instead. 

We're going to read some book on bullying for June.   Well, they are; I'm not.  The girl who suggested it described it as "the saddest book I ever read" which made me wonder why on earth she wants us to "cry until [our] faces hurt".  Maybe it's along the lines of how people always say, "EEEEEW!  This is so gross!  SMELL IT!!!" when they have something stinky.  I don't know, I just don't want to read it.  I'm still shaken by "Nineteen Minutes" and I don't need another book about bullying to drive in the final nail on the coffin of my children's outside schooling experience.  Jack is so sensitive; it feels like someone squeezes my heart whenever I hear about bullying b/c I worry that he'll have problems at school.  I never worry about Natalie like that, probably b/c she is much more likely to be the bully than to be bullied.  Oy.

Morbid reading aside, I do enjoy book club.  I never feel like going but I'm always glad I did.  It's a pretty diverse group for being mostly white suburban moms and I enjoy getting a peek into my neighbor's lives.  I think I may have accidentally started a knitting circle with two of the members I'd consider least likely to knit so it will be interesting to see where that goes.  If it progresses, I'll be dragging in my two "real" friends from the group so, Megen, consider yourself warned!