Election Day Post? Meh. It's too depressing and I'm not in the mode for that particular tirade. People get what they deserve, if you happened to vote for the loser then I guess you didn't get what you deserved, but maybe you didn't try hard enough to convince others of your side.

Whatever. My side loses today, that's pretty much a given so all the welfare mom's and rapists get free reign of the state for awhile and when it's over everyone will forget how bad it was and that we were taxed up our asses. Kind of like how everyone still can look at Clinton without wanting to vomit.

I think it's like childbirth or something. People forget how painful it was and then go and do it again.

This is me NOT talking about politics. Imagine if I decided to go on and on about it.

Did someone order a subject change? Coming right up.

I read (sort of) four books this weekend. In my defence I tried to read an important book, a serious book, but the one I wanted most was already on hold at the library so I filled up on junk reading instead.

I began with "Model: The Ugly Business of Beautiful Women" by Michael Gross which was supposed to be such a fascinating look into the dirty business of modeling but turned out to be a rather dusty history book on the annoying ugly people who decided to start modeling agencies and then fight with one another about them.

I put a bookmark in that and went to read "Everything About Me is Fake and I'm Perfect" by Janice Dickinson. This is JD's second book. The first was "No Lifeguard On Duty" and it was a pretty decent book, better than I expected from Janice and certainly made me like her more. This second book was an even more fun read with lots of fun and some even useful tips. If she went two seconds without calling herself the world's first supermodel it wouldn't kill me but still.

The other thing about the book that bugged was the fact that she assumes that every woman who isn't a size zero is not only jealous of her but believes that she MUST be happier because she's thinner.

Note to Janice: I've never met a woman who was a size zero that loved herself. NEVER. We're not buying what you think you're selling.

In the end though Janice is lovable and screwed up and trying hard to be helpful to her fellow woman without being stepped on by anyone. I'll certainly read her next book.

After that I went back to "Model" and tried again. I had read from roughly the 1800's through the late 1920's and decided that speed reading was in order until something interesting came up.

It never did. I gave up in the seventies with the impossibly bland Christie Brinkley and then did a search in the back for the few models I thought might have interesting stories. They had roughly a paragraph each, detailing which model agency fought for them or with them. Blah.

Michael Gross will never sell another book to me. (Well, I didn't buy that one, thank goodness. Libraries rule!)

Next I resignedly sat down to read David Sedaris' "Dress Your Family in Courderouy and Denim".

You may remember I've spoken about my disappointment with "Me talk pretty one day" previously so I decided that I'd give him one more chance. I found this book much more enjoyable. It seemed much less forced and flowed really well. I read it in about an hour and a half.

Finally I picked up something I read in either my late teens or early twenties and remember fondly. D.V. The autobiography of Diana Vreeland.

I couldn't remember what I'd loved about it at the time. I knew she had woven colorful stories about people and places I had no clue about but normally I hate period pieces in both books and movies.

I brought it home from the library anyway and picked it up last night.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough. I remember now what I had forgotten- Diana doesn't fill you in on the boring details of the era's. She speaks to you as if you were there, in on the glory and the fun.

It's all things like, "We went to the Redium dance hall...you remember how those stairs lead right from the front door with the glass all around them? Well Jack dropped his trousers right there in front of those very same windows. He couldn't have cared less that he was stopping traffic everywhere, just lifted his round pink bottom..."

That's not a direct quote but it's the flavor. She was an exquisite talent, Mrs. Vreeland. You want to giggle with her through the entire thing and I'm not much for the giggling. (The last bought of giggles I had was unexpected and unprecidented delight at Monsters Inc. The first children's movie to catch my eye since I was, in fact, a child.)

So there you have it. I haven't quite finished D.V. and don't know that I will tonight but when I'm though I have one more book to read before returning to the diary. It's called "This is not the new me" and I can't remember the author's name, but if it's very good or very bad I'm sure I'll tell you all about it.

Oh, and the book that's on hold that I wanted to read?

The Family That Couldn't Sleep. It looks really interesting.

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