An Imagined Conversation Between the Characters in Go Set a Watchman

[Interior, Henry's car]
HENRY: Hi Scout, I'm going to drive you to your childhood home in Alabama.
SCOUT: Thank you. I'm going to be weirdly bitchy to and about you this whole time.
HENRY: Why?
SCOUT: I'm not sure, but you still want to marry me because you were my brother's friend or something.
HENRY: Weird. OK, here you are, the home America fell in love with back in Mockingbird.
SCOUT: I'm sure this will be fine. Byeeee!

[Atticus' house]
ATTICUS: Scout! Hi! Are you an asshole from living in a big city, now?
SCOUT: I guess that's for you to decide, dad! Are you super racist in this weird future?
ATTICUS: Well first of all, I don't now if we can really call this a true future, as the verdict in the case featured in Mockingbird is different an--
SCOUT:-- Just answer the question!
ATTICUS: Yup! I sure am.
SCOUT: How bad are we talking?
ATTICUS: Well, I'm on a board of old white guys who try actively to prevent the advancement of black rights.
SCOUT: Holy shit.
ATTICUS: Yeah.
SCOUT:...
ATTICUS: But I do it for their own good.
SCOUT: Yeah, that's not a thing.
ATTICUS: Well, are YOU racist?
SCOUT: You know, weirdly, I kind of am! I'm not like you or anything, but I make a pretty big point of making it clear that I wouldn't want to run of and "Marry One" or anything.
ATTICUS: Hm.
SCOUT: Yeah.
ATTICUS: So, if you're being presented in 2015...
SCOUT: Right. Should I go see Cal?
ATTICUS: Well, given my activities, I'd say no.
SCOUT: I'ma go see Cal.

[Calpurnia's shack on the black side of Maycomb]
CALPURNIA: Girl, you better get the fu--
SCOUT: Oh, Cal!
CALPURNIA: You know what your daddy's up to?
SCOUT: Oh, please, Calpurnia! I just need to know if you hated us.
CALPURNIA: Well, then... no?
SCOUT: K, Byeeee!

[Atticus' house]
SCOUT: Calpurnia totally hated us.
ATTICUS: Probably.
SCOUT: Which really sucks because a lot of people considered her my mother figure until literally just now.
ATTICUS: Bummer.
SCOUT: Maycomb kind of sucks now.
ATTICUS: Where's your brother?
SCOUT: Dead.
ATTICUS: Oh shit. How about Dill?
SCOUT: No idea. There's actually no reason at all to bring him into this book, but I will anyway.
ATTICUS: So, no endearing childhood shenanigans?
SCOUT: There actually is one flashback that is pretty great and gives you a glimpse into what one day would become a beloved American novel.
ATTICUS: Well, that's nice, at least. Hey, is your weird uncle around?
SCOUT: Holy shit, yes. Let's see, how do I put this? Imagine if mid-breakdown Franny from Franny and Zooey argued with a hyper-philosophical Southern version of The Riddler about race for 40 pages.
ATTICUS: Oh god.
SCOUT: Yeah, it's a mess.
ATTICUS: Well, at least the story moves quickly, right?
SCOUT: Welllll, unfortunately there are pages and pages of expository that don't advance the plot, some of which are repeated nearly word-for-word.
ATTICUS: Oh, Jesus Christ.
SCOUT: Yeah, it gets rough.

WEIRD UNCLE: May I chime in here to say I really enjoyed this book?
SCOUT: That's just because you got to talk for pages on end; go away forever.
WEIRD UNCLE: K, byeeee!

ATTICUS: So, does anyone here think Harper actually wanted this book to get published?
EVERYONE BUT SCOUT: NO!
SCOUT: Well...
ATTICUS: Oh, come off it, Scout.
SCOUT: As the least racist Finch, I feel I should at least present the possibility that Harper Lee regretted putting forward a white-washed version of the Jim Crow South for all these years, and she wanted Watchman to come out because it is more true.
ATTICUS: Fine, if I concede that this is a slight possibility, can we all go to bed?
SCOUT: Sure.
ATTICUS: Ok, so what have we learned?
SCOUT: That editors are the most important people in the world.

ATTICUS: OK, bye!
SCOUT: Byeeee!
CALPURNIA: Get away from me.
WEIRD UNCLE: If I could insert myself here--
SCOUT:--NO!
HENRY: Everyone forgot I was here, but bye.

I wrote down all my Game of Thrones Theories

Don't read this unless you have read the books. Watching the show is less important, but there's some in here.


Ok so at this point it's completely accepted that Jon is Lyanna and Rhaegar's son. GRRM pretty much confirmed it, and he confirmed it in regards to the SHOW, which is important.

So Jon's not dead. There's no reason to spend all the time and energy building up a backstory that makes Jon a Targaryen just to throw him away. The dragon has three heads, as Dany learned, and those three heads have to be Dany, Jon, and all grown up baby Aegon.

Ok, so what's the deal with Jon's stabbing?
Let me pose another question to answer that question: what's the point of the bizarre Mance-isn't-dead-he's-this-guy plot?
I think the Jon that got stabbed wasn't Jon. Melisandre created a patsy to take the fall for him when she realized there would be a mutiny.
But why would Melisandre help Jon?

Well, dear friends, Melisandre has been working to install a Targaryen Queen all along. Who better to work alongside the God of light and fire against the Darkness than that family and their dragons? You also might remember that priests of R'hllor that Tyrion encountered on his weird travels were preaching about DANY.

Dany is the reincarnation of Ashor Ashai. While Melisandre was telling Stannis that he was chosen, she was using him to kill Renly and disrupt the other major families in the seven kingdoms. Even on the show Melisandre arrived back at the wall to see Jon shortly before the stabbing, indicating that this alliance could be a major plot point across both series.

Ashor Ashai will be reborn on Dragon Stone under the comet. We don't know a lot about Dany's birth, but we sure know she was REborn literally atop dragon eggs made of stone under the red comet when she entered the funeral pyre and hatched her dragons.

So Melisandre is protecting Jon to allow the three headed dragon to unite and install Daenerys Targaryen as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

BOOM

A List of Cultural Icons, Real and Fictional, About Whom I Don't Care

1. Elvis

2. Bob Marley

3. Scarlett O'Hara

4. Superman

5. The Beatles

6. Shakespeare

7. Marilyn Monroe*

8. Michael Jackson

9. Rocky

10. Any of the Little Women

11. Calvin

12. Hobbes

13. Garfield

14. Madonna

15. Jim Morrison

*For a short while I was watching that horrible show Smash, and I began to care slightly about Marilyn Monroe because Katherine McPhee was so bad at Marilyning, but those days are now over 

Four years and saggy boobs later

Warning: this is a body image post. Even worse, it's a mommy bloggy body image post, as if the world needs any more of those. But this isn't a feel-good piece about loving your body just as much post-baby (Because I don't), and it's not about whether children are worth it (because they obviously are if you want them). This is a post about whether our outsides match our insides by accident or design. 

I wrote a bit on this blog about body image during my first pregnancy, four years ago. I celebrated the roundness of first-time pregnancy curves and lamented bodily autonomy from the perspective of a 24-year-old as that gestation progressed. However, I felt no need to revisit those subjects during my second pregnancy as a 28-year-old-- a pregnancy that came to a close with the birth of my beautiful daughter one month ago-- partly because it felt like old hat and partly because I have less time for self-indulgent ramblings in general.

Though I spent nine months wallowing in the **unique and exciting** world of baby-growing as if I were the first woman to discover reproduction during my first pregnancy, I did not write about postpartum recovery after the birth of my son. I do, however, remember feeling attractive seven weeks after his birth, when I went out with some friends for my 25th birthday. I remember getting dressed on that night in a tight, jersey knit Victoria's Secret dress and deciding not-- NOT-- to wear spanx at the last minute. 

I feel all right about my pushing-thirty self right now, but I don't see myself forgoing spanx any time in the near future. I also don't remember feeling so (physically) mommish after Charlie was born. It's possible my memory is failing me, but I can't recall a time when I looked in the mirror and saw what I felt to be a stereotypical mom body back then. Now, it's all I see. My milk-laden boobs are as big as last time, but aren't they a little less pert? I gathered a handful of stretch marks around my hips this time around (a phenomenon I manged to avoid until after my second child's due date. Harrumph.) And the cellulite around my thighs seems to have settled in for an extended stay.

 

Perhaps most noticeably, my skin is distinctly different now in a way I don't recall from four years ago. It feels lovely but looks slightly sad-- soft and a tad bit loose like an elephant made of velvet. I describe it in an affectionate way because I genuinely feel mostly affectionate toward these developments, which brings me to the question I mentioned at the beginning of this post: Is my body (and my attitude towards it) reflective of the position I have embraced in life or an inevitable product of aging? 

I identify at this point in my life primarily as a mother (a title that holds the distinction as the only one I've always known for 100% sure I wanted), and I suspect that I have both subconsciously and consciously tailored my appearance to fit that description. Of course I look more like a mom now with sensibly short, naturally colored hair than I did four years ago with highlighted long layers a la every  underwear model. Of course I am softer and looser now post-pregnancy when I allowed myself to be 5-10 pounds heavier pre-pregnancy because no one wants to snuggle a bony mommy. These things aren't accidents and to complain and delude myself into thinking I am not complicit in my transformation into a 30-year-old mom lady is patently ridiculous. 

I guess what I'm saying is dress for the job you want, and if you're really committed, get fat and saggy for it, too. The snuggle phase only lasts a few years, and I'll be damned if my babies don't have a comfy mommy...

What's that? Ten year high school reunion is in how long now?... Catch ya on the treadmill! ✌️

Shut Up About "Participation Trophies" Already

It has become a symbol of Millennials' entitled attitude, our unwillingness to believe we aren't special: the participation trophy. The trinket you get to take home even if you lose, telling you losing is ok. 

Well guess what, I was highly competitive throughout my entire childhood in a myriad of equestrian events, thanks largely to an awesome organization called United States Pony Clubs. I LOVED winning, and I competed internationally. USPC often gave participation ribbons to low-scoring teams at the end of its big competitions, called rallies. And guess what: WE ALL KNEW THEY WERE BULLSHIT. 

They were always hideous, either orange or neon-something or tacky rainbow, and worse, they meant you lost. Getting a tiny, hideous ribbon didn't lessen the sting of losing an event you'd prepared for for months. 

In retrospect, these abominations did serve a purpose, as a memento of the rallies we had shed blood, sweat, and tears to attend. Months of practices and literally days of practical preparation-- bathing horses, cleaning tack, packing feed, cleaning trailers, memorizing rules for written tests, labeling grooming kits, dry cleaning jackets, etc. etc. and more etc.-- were all commemorated by the crappy ribbons we shoved to the bottom of our tack trunks or reluctantly pinned behind blues on our barn bulletin boards. But none of us thought we were winners when all that work didn't result in a good finish. 

So, if you think this generation is entitled and delusional, fine. But it's not because of the fucking participation ribbons, promise. 

Ten Minute, No Bake Summer Dessert: "Tiramisu" pudding cups

Two things I love on a level that is probably somewhat unreasonable:

1. Tiramisu, the coffee-and-custard layered cake of Italian heaven

2. No-bake desserts, especially in summer time

Thus, today, after seeing a picture of a perfectly constructed tiramisu cake on someone's facebook feed, I decided to combine the two. My first priority was eschewing the somewhat tedious and time-consuming construction of a traditional tiramisu. On top of that, I only used ingredients already in my pantry, and I refused to turn the oven on. What I came up with was a 10 to 15 minute pudding concoction that I wouldn't be ashamed to serve at a fancy party. 

Tiramisu pudding cups

Ingredients:

-One package Jello instant pudding in cheesecake flavor

-1/2 tbsp coffee extract (You could also use espresso powder, but I like the vague booziness of extract)

-a couple handfuls Nilla wafers

-a couple handfuls semi-sweet or dark chocolate chips (mini chips if possible)

-unsweetened cocoa powder

Directions:

1. Combine pudding packet and cold milk as instructed on packet, allow time to set

2. Whisk in coffee extract until smoothly combined

3. Crush Nilla wafers into chunks and add to pudding (The ratio of pudding:wafers:chocolate is up to you)

4. Add chocolate chips

5. Spoon or pipe into serving cups and sprinkle with cocoa powder

6. Serve room temperature or (preferably) chilled

"Pregnancy Brain" Cake Batter Ice Cream Popsicles

Some of my readers are probably familiar with the phenomenon of "pregnancy brain"-- the unexplained inability to complete even basic tasks without encountering moments of complete mental blankness. For those of you who are not, think stopping at green lights, signing your maiden name four years into marriage, turning on the wrong burner and starting fires, etc. 

One of the symptoms of pregnancy brain is the inability to focus on even simple documents like bills or, in this case, recipes. Yesterday my husband forwarded me this delicious-sounding recipe from The Baking Robot (http://thebakingrobot.com/2014/05/06/cake-popsicles/) that apparently actually creates ice cream-based Popsicles with cake crumble and frosting cores. That is not, however the impression I got when I failed to read the recipe even remotely correctly. It wasn't until I went back to try to figure out why I was having to make so many adjustments that I realized how off-base I was. 

Fortunately, my lack of reading comprehension resulted in a happy accident of delicious proportions. And so, I give you...

One-Bowl Cake Batter Ice Cream Pops:

(Makes 12)

Ingredients:

-7 oz boxed cake mix (I chose Duncan Hines strawberry supreme)

-2 tbsp cake frosting (Pillsbury strawberry)

-1 pint softened ice cream (Ben & Jerry's vanilla)

-1/4 to 1/2 milk

-Sprinkles etc for texture, if desired

-Popsicle mold & sticks

Directions:

-Beat ingredients together in listed order in large mixing bowl until smooth and thin enough to slosh in the bowl

-Spoon or pour into Popsicle mold

-Push a stick 3/4 of the way down in each

- Freeze until solid. (6 hrs-overnight)

Enjoy! 

These are lighter & more airy than straight ice cream bars, and they would follow a large meal or a hot activity beautifully. I chose strawberry because I thought a fruity approach was best for the hot summer, but imagine all the combinations one could try: devil's food cake and dolce de leche ice cream, red velvet and creole cream cheese, Funfetti and cotton candy-- the list is endless!