We are the World, at least 53% of it

Well, it seems the Happy Booker was a day late and a Susan B. Anthony dollar short when it came to celebrating yet another holiday with an international theme (see World Book Day). Yesterday was International Women's Day. Yet all the parades, festivities, and that tiny female symbol on the second "o" in google failed to clue me in. The Happy Booker was too busy cooking, cleaning, parenting, writing, working, grocery shopping and domesticating to stop and enjoy the hubbub that surrounds such a worldwide event. Next year, please wake me for the chocolate and floral tribute.

Queen for a Day: If you missed the royal treatment yesterday, take the quiz and find out what kind of ruler you would be: Are you an Elizabeth I or a Mary Queen of Scots? Find out here.

If, like the Happy Booker, you know you could rule the world if you only had more time, here's an amusing short film on the proper method of shirt folding, sure to cut laundry folding time in half, once you master the cool technique.

For Karen, Robyn, and anyone else who was puzzled by Lorrie Moore's recent New Yorker story, Juniper Tree, there is news from Elegant Variation, here.

For those who want the whole scoop on the Iowa Idol search, the full soup to nuts selection process ordeal from the Iowans POV it's here, via Galley Cat.

In honor of International Women's Day, I include a poem by Polish Nobel winner, Wisawa Szymborska. If you would like to cast YOUR vote for favorite International Woman Writer, the bloglines are officially open.

Some People

Some people flee some other people.
In some country under a sun
and some clouds.

They abandon something close to all they've got,
sown fields, some chickens, dogs,
mirrors in which fire now preens.

Their shoulders bear pitchers and bundles.
The emptier they get, the heavier they grow.
What happens quietly: someone's dropping from exhaustion.

What happens loudly: someone's bread is ripped away,
Someone tries to shake a limp child back to life.

Always another wrong road ahead of them,
Always another wrong bridge
Across an oddly reddish river.

Around them, some gunshots, now nearer, now farther away,
Above them a plane seems to circle.

Some invisibility would come in handy,
some grayish stoniness,

or, better yet, some nonexistence
for a shorter or a longer while.

Something else will happen, only where and what,
Someone will come at them, only when and who,
in how many shapes, with what intentions.

If he has a choice,
maybe he won't be the enemy
and will let them live some sort of life.

translated from Polish by Stanisaw Baraczak and Clare Cavanagh

Comments

[yve]

In recognition of International Women's Day, may I suggest Nicholas D. Kristof's "When Rapists Walk Free," in Saturday's (3/5) New York Times.

[yve]

I just had a chance to check out the folding video adn since I don't have a sound card, I have no idea what is being said, but I'll admit this is a stunning display of folding virtuosity. Of course, I'd be even more impressed had the shirt been folded into the shape of a crane, but still, this is pretty good. Next week's feature: fitted sheets.

[LadyLitBlitzin]

Your blog's good stuff! Yep, I believe the only reason I knew it was International Women's Day was because I clicked on the symbol on Google. I wish I had been a little more aware of the fact.

[KarenB]

Thanks for the Elegant Variation link. I think the back story about the inspiration for "Juniper Tree" to be more interesting than the story itself!