*hey there, it's christa*

Book Comment: "Then Again" by Diane Keaton

Truth be told, most celebrity biographies are the literary equivalent of a magazine cover that's been Photoshopped to death.

Instead of tastefully showcasing someone as he/she really is, all the imperfections are buffed and buffed until the subject is rendered virtually unrecognizable (read: barely human).

Thankfully, that's not the approach Diane Keaton chose for autobiography, Then Again. Rather than focusing solely on carefully selected moments of her life and storied career (although there's plenty about that, from Annie Hall to Something's Gotta Give), it's really more of an inside look on how she became the person she is today.

Naturally, her family plays a starring role, and we get to know them very well—especially her Mom, who Diane was close to in health and sickness. And since Diane's mom never had an expansive platform to share her thoughts and feelings with the world around her like her daughter has, Diane showcases her journals, musings and poems in her book, a nice way to honor the woman who not only gave her life, but was one of her biggest supporters through everything.

For those more interested in the never-married actress's love life, Then Again won't let you down in that department either. Without resorting to a Kardashian level of salaciousness,  she tastefully discusses everyone from Woody Allen to Warren Beatty and why gettin' hitched was ultimately never for her.

Last but not least, what's probably my favorite part of the book is when she talks about the two kids she adopted when she was in her (gasp!) 50s. Clearly the true loves of her life, the stories about Duke and Dexter are nothing short of priceless without getting too precious (cue: gag reflex)—the mark of a truly relatable writer.

Rating: *** 1/2 out of 4 stars

From "I Do" to "I Don't" in 72 Days?

If we're honest, I'm guessing no one really expected Kim Kardashian's marriage to Kris Humphries to last for the long haul.

After all, when cameras are "keeping up with you" 24/7 and you don't even live in the same city as your hubby to boot, when would Kim and Kris actually have time for, well, regular married couple stuff?

Since I'm guessing that ordering pizza and watching a movie in their sweats was never in the cards for them anyway (boring stuff like that doesn't make for very good TV, naturally), one still can't help wondering why Kim threw in the proverbial towel so quickly—especially after an embarrassingly lavish wedding that dominated the headlines, despite you know, record unemployment and actual news happening all around the world.

Worse yet, Kim's explanation for why the union didn't last is because she's a "hopeless romantic?" Really? In retrospect, she says she fell in love with the "fairy tale" and probably should've called off her wedding off since "the relationship wasn't working." But in an effort not to "disappoint" everyone, she went through with it anyway.

Now as someone who went to a Christian university, I definitely saw my fair share of couples who got engaged at record speed and giddily raced to the altar, only to find out that once the wedding and honeymoon were over, being married meant they were actually (gasp!) stuck with this flawed individual for the rest of their lives.

As you can imagine, these young couples' first 72 days weren't easy either, and some inevitably weathered the storm, while others jumped out of the boat altogether.

The difference is, most of these new brides and grooms were all of 19 or 20 years old. Kim is 30 and has already been married—and divorced—once before. When you're 19 and marry the wrong guy or girl for the wrong reasons, you can chalk it up to the foolishness of youth. But when you're 30 and should understand the weight of the vows you're taking, it just comes across as incredibly selfish.

But then again how could someone say "for better, for worse, 'til death do us part" to someone before deciding where you'll live after the ceremony is a wrap? Or who agrees to cut their honeymoon short to get back to filming a reality show of all things? I'm guessing fans could've lived without their fix of "Kim and Kourtney Take New York" for a few weeks while Kris and Kim enjoyed their first few days as man and wife, but hey, that's just me.

Even worse is the example it sets. For better or worse, many young women look up to Kim, envy her lifestyle and inevitably consider her a role model. While that's something she'd probably say she didn't ask for, the world is still watching anyway. And when you say that "following your heart" means bailing on a guy you were only hitched to for 72 days, well, it's another sad, sad moment for marriage as we know it.

Getting Wistful for Paperbacks, Hardcovers and Dusty Ol' Library Basements

I'll be honest, I'm not usually a pine-for-the-old-days kind of gal.

Sure, I absolutely adore old movies and prefer writing actual letters (yes, in my own frilly cursive) to e-mail any day of the week, but you won't see me giving up electricity and "living off the land" any time soon. After all, I enjoy all the perks of modern life too much to go granola.

Although I was a little late to the party, I'm still in awe of my cell phone's multi-tasking powers and love that I never have to miss my favorite TV shows again, thanks to the wonders of DVR. And given my perpetually direction-challenged nature and how I now live in a place with practically 2,353 different freeways, I'm a big, big fan of Greta, my GPS (and yes, I named her).

And high-speed Internet? How did I ever manage without that? Oh wait, I endured that lovely hissing sound and loud "You've got mail" declaration from AOL.

As far as music goes, I like to kick it old-school and listen to entire albums (like my favorite artists intended) on a fairly regular basis. Still, I have to admit my iPod is a pretty great disc jockey, too. Not only does she (and yes, because she's hot pink, I've decided it's a girl!) provide a great soundtrack while I'm working, but I never have to hear any hideous Top-40 music unless I personally selected it.

Sweet.

All that said, however, I'll admit I was more than a little saddened by something I read online yesterday. Sure, it was inevitable, but I still couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that Amazon.com's digital book download sales have now far surpassed that of traditional books of the paper and hardback variety.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for reading—however people want to do it. I'm an author, after all, so any way we can get masses to forgo Facebook, TV and, well, pick up a book, I'm all for it. Truth be told, these e-readers have plenty of appeal since they're all nice and portable and perfect for traveling. And when paired with one of Kate Spade's too-cute-for-words cases, it's also quite the fashion statement. But as cool as they are, I still find myself resisting...

While I know the tides are changing, I'm just not ready for books to become dinosaurs. In fact, some of my favorite childhood memories involved holing up in a dusty basement of books at our local library. When you live in a small town, your library card is like your passport, and it's there where I discovered everything from Deenie (quite a scandalous read when you're 13) to Anne of Green Gables to The Great Gatsby and so many more.

Plus, for anyone who's ever been to our house, books are a major part of the Banister's decor, thanks to one giant IKEA bookshelf that's stuffed to the gills with theology, travel guides, biographies and plenty of fiction, too, not to mention that ever-growing stack of novels on our nightstand.

So suffice it to say, I couldn't imagine living in a world without pages to actually turn. And as it turns out, I'm not alone (whew!). While flipping through the most recent issue of Entertainment Weekly, namely the "Summer Must Lists," I found a kindred spirit in actor Tom Hanks.

"I still carry a bag of books around all summer, as I'm not enamored with the tactile experience of reading books on Kindles or iPads," Tom says. "Magazines, scripts and newspapers, sure, but my policy on books is: Buy, Read, Keep."

Aside from Cast Away, I knew I always liked that Tom Hanks. :) Here's hoping one day he'll carry around one of my novels one summer (or at least do the honors so Rita can enjoy it beachside)...

Book Comment "An Object of Beauty" by Steve Martin

As a general rule, I don't usually write a book comment until I've actually finished the book I'm commenting on. But I've been enjoying Steve Martin's (yes, that Steve Martin of It's Complicated, Father of the Bride and Planes, Trains and Automobiles fame) latest novel, An Object of Beauty, so much that I simply couldn't wait...

I've officially got about 30 pages left now, and I've absolutely loved the unconventional yet intriguing journey I've been on.

One of the qualities that makes An Object of Beauty such a winner is its inherent originality. Not only does his chapter length vary widely (yeah, some are just over a page, and it still works), but his female lead is also anything but the norm. Unlike, say, your average romantic comedy, the star of An Object of Beauty doesn't work in publishing and isn't particularly concerned whether she meets the right guy by story's end. In fact, most men in Lacey's life are simply a means to an end, which is exactly how she likes it.

Like Martin's previous novels Shopgirl and The Pleasure of My Company (both a thumb's up from yours truly), there's an underlying sadness that ultimately fuels the story of a morally flexible young woman named Lacey Yeager. Ambitious, beautiful and the sort of person who'll do anything (yeah, even if it's potentially a felony) to move up the proverbial ladder, Lacey works in Manhattan's cut-throat art world.

Since I don't know much about the ins and outs of the art museum scene, save a general appreciation for a beautiful painting, it was fun getting an informed, behind-the-scenes glimpse. Since Martin is a collector himself, you can't help appreciating the little nuggets of insight, not to mention all those lovely paintings that grace the pages.

Bringing warmth and wit to what could've easily been a downer of a reading experience, Martin makes intriguing observations on human behavior and even manages to keep you interested in what Lacey is up to, a minor miracle considering she's not a remotely relatable or symphathetic heroine.

Wisely allowing the story to be narrated by Lacey's journalist friend Daniel (yes, a dead ringer for Martin himself in all his droll glory, but much, much younger) we get an objective, engaging take on what makes her tick. See, flaws and all, Daniel's got a thing for Lacey but still isn't afraid to present her life as it really is: depraved, skeevy and more than a little opportunistic.

So what will happen to our not-so-likeable leading lady? In the real world, we wouldn't probably wouldn't care in the least. But as I've gotten acquainted with her in the pages of An Object of Beauty, truth be told, I can't find out fast enough...

Rating: (pending a lousy ending, of course) **** out of ***** stars

Book Comment: Last Night at Chateau Marmont

Like millions and millions of my fellow rom-com readers, I absolutely loved Lauren Weisberger's  debut, The Devil Wears Prada in 2004. So like a big ol' fan girl, I immediately picked up Everyone Worth Knowing and Chasing Harry Winston as soon as they hit stores, too, thinking I'd love them just as much.

Unfortunately, after barely getting through the former and barely tolerating the latter, I wasn't sure if I'd ever like another one of Weisburger's novels again. However, that all changed when I recently finished Last Night at Chateau Marmont. In fact, I dare say that I like it better than Prada. But then again Miranda Priestly is so deliciously awful as a boss, so maybe it's a toss-up.

Ok, back to the matter at hand...since Will and I stayed at the Chateau Marmont for part of our journey up the 101 on our honeymoon nearly five years ago, I had a decent reference point when she described the whole Sunset Boulevard scene in Last Night at Chateau Marmont. But aside from providing a realistic lens into the lives of the newly famous (and the ensuing emotions of the loyal, loving wife who's along for the ride and isn't sure if she likes it), I thoroughly enjoyed the journey of our protagonist who's forced to reevaluate everything once her singer/songwriter hubby hits the big time. 

And for those of us who've worked in the music biz, you gotta appreciate the research that Weisberger has done because her depiction of how it all really works is right on the money— just one of the novel's many charms.

Rating: 4 1/2 out of 5 stars

I Hope Lorelei Gilmore Likes Scary Movies

Lauren Graham was on Leno the other night talking about her new-ish TV show "Parenthood" and revealed some rather interesting casting news...turns out, she's going to be in Scream 4 with Courteney Cox, Neve Campbell (remember her) and the rest of the Scream regulars.

Now normally, I'm not a huge fan of horror movies. I just scare way too easily, even if they aren't even that realistic. But the Scream movies have always been a guilty pleasure of mine, and I've actually seen all three in the theater (yeah, I can't believe it either).

And now that my favorite "Gilmore Girl" will be playing a role (she's not even sure what it is yet), it'll just be that much more fun. Let's just hope that Loralei Gilmore likes scary movies...(yeah, I couldn't resist saying that...and I'm guessing neither could Loralei).

Imagine That: No TMI, Just Music

Truth be told, it hasn't been easy calling myself a John Mayer fan lately. While it's been relatively easy in the past to separate the music from the man with the annoying tendency to overshare (read any of his previous tweets, and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about), his recent comments have not only been racist and insulting, but have lacked anything resembling good taste.

Mind you, it's not that I expect my favorite rock stars to abide by a certain moral code, that's a personal choice. But some things simply cross the line of common decency, and Mayer's comments, whether to Rolling Stone or Playboy, did that in spades. I was disgusted for everyone involved—even Jessica Simpson—and as a result, probably wouldn't have bought tickets after hearing all those foul things he said on the record.

Since I got my tickets for the "Battle Studies" tour long before Mayer's reckless words made headlines in seemingly every publication 'round the globe (they were a birthday present from my sweetie), Will and I went to his show at the Xcel Center last night, hoping that he'd shut his mouth and stick with what he does best: playing great pop songs. 

And that's exactly what he did, save for his rambling quasi-mea culpa where he briefly alluded to his bad judgment and thanked the audience for its constant support of him anyway, a nice-ish gesture of goodwill and an acknowledgment that he messed up—big time.

Aside from that, the rest of the evening was wisely dedicated to Mayer's songs of past and present, a well-chosen set list that mostly focused on his latest album, Battle Studies. While Battle Studies is definitely not my favorite album in Mayer's discography, the songs (even ho-hum ones like "Assassins" and "Perfectly Lonely") do translate very well in the live setting, thanks to a better sound system (there was something decidedly flat about the actual recording, in my opinion), great background visuals and a passionate vocal performance. 

But the night's best moments definitely belonged to the songs of Mayer's past, sparkling live renditions of "Why Georgia," "No Such Thing," his scaled-back cover of Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'" and an inspired mash-up of "In My Atmosphere" with "Something's Missing," a track that's particularly poignant in light of everything that's happened in Mayer's world lately. Come to think of it, maybe "My Stupid Mouth" would've been even better, but he didn't sing that one (too obvious, I guess).

Aside from the music, of course, a John Mayer show always offers the pleasure of really choice people-watching. True to form, the girls were screaming and squealing as if Zac Efron or a Jo Bro just walked by, which I don't get considering that Mayer sported a hideous, black wifebeater that showed off his plethora of arm art. And for anyone wondering at home, yes, his infamous froggie face was in full force. Apparently the one way he can do his falsetto or hit the high notes is by contorting his face in a very unattractive manner, but hey, if it isn't broke, why fix it, right?

Incidentally, the girls sitting directly behind us made me feel very old. Not only did they scream and squeal with such gusto that it made Will and I's ears hurt, but they managed to ruin Mayer's popular songs in the process by yelling the words in a particularly tone-deaf manner. At one point it was so bad, I turned around and gave one the stink-eye, which admittedly did little to quell their enthusiasm.

Equally entertaining was a guy in front of us who thought interpretative dance would be a nice addition to the festivities. The guy had one, maybe two beers, and was very, very happy, much to the chagrin of his wife who hasn't amused in the least by his waving arms and inherent dedication to acting out every one of Mayer's lyrics. At one point, his arms were fwailing (is that how you spell fwailing...doesn't look right, but I'm going with it) directly in my personal space, but before I lost an eye, his wife decided it was time to take him home. Sadly, his departure didn't make the Mayer's encore quite as fun, but I even survived through "Who Says," which, incidentally, still hasn't won me over—even with far better production quality.

One final P.S.: In the "File Under: Disturbing" category, I was a little embarrassed for my gender last night. While I fully expect girls to scream and yell "I Love You, John" because it's happened at the seven other shows I've been to, I was sad for the twenty-something who held up a sign that said "Sex?" for the concert's duration, hoping, of course, that John would see it. And given his reputation for indulging with his groupies, I'm sure she thought her bold approach just might work. As I thought about the girl holding the sign, though, I could feel is sad for such a shameless attempt to get his (and presumably any other guy in the room's attention). Ick. Ick. Ick.

Book Comment: Paula Deen—It Ain't All About the Cookin'

I've been on a major biography kick lately, so I thought it was high time to read the reigning Queen of Butter, Paula Deen's life story. I am a major Food Network junkie, after all, so it just felt appropriate. And like any of her delicious, calorie-laden Southern-fried recipes, It Ain't All About The Cookin' definitely didn't disappoint.

Truth be told, like a good hoe cake, it's a bit of a guilty pleasure.

Not only are her myriad of accomplishments—and the long, winding road to getting there—fun to read about (and yeah, she started at forty-something, not twenty-something), but her accounts of dealing with agoraphobia and life after losing her precious parents at a young age couldn't help but tug at your heart.

And like that gossipy, chatterbox aunt that just about everyone has, Paula also isn't shy about admitting her shortcomings, whether it's smoking or a regrettable dalliance with a married man for the better part of ten years after the collapse of her first marriage. In her conversational tone sprinkled with plenty of y'alls, she highly recommends that readers don't follow in those particular footsteps. But when it comes to making the best fried chicken, she's happy for everyone to follow her cue.

Rating: 3 stars out of four.

Why I Still Heart Brett Favre...

Yeah, I know I'm supposed to hate him.

I'm from Wisconsin, after all, and lived there for 18 years before making my big move to Minnesota for college.

And when you live in Wisconsin, you bleed green and cheer for the Packers. Basically, there's no other option if you don't want to be harassed, ridiculed or deported (okay, I'm kidding on that last one).

And so, I've been a life-long Packer fan and have proudly donned a Cheesehead through thick and thin (and even sported green and gold Zubaz pants, a fashion faux pas of the worst order...yes, I have pictures).

In fact, I still remember the day this guy with the seemingly impossible-to-pronounce name first ran out on the field in that #4 jersey. He was taking over for the Majik Man (remember him?), and I wondered if he'd be any good.

Yeah, turns out he was that—and much, much more.

Over the course of 16 years, I've watched Brett ignite one comeback after the other...some we won, some we loss. But I can guarantee this: Win or lose, it was never boring. Really, drama is all part of the Favre mystique. And that's why I guess I don't have a problem with him retiring and unretiring and retiring yet again (which is apparently, what it's looking like now ...but you just wait).

With Favre, drama is all in a day's work.

Now when he decided to don the purple and white, I know that was supposed to be the end of my Favre admiration. I was supposed to light his jersey on fire, cut up my Favre football cards, never shop at Sears (that's an easy one actually) and pray for his ultimate demise.

But as hard as I tried, it was impossible not to cheer him on, even if he was handing it off to Adrian Peterson, throwing to Sidney Rice and playing for Brad Childress—not Mike McCarthy. Somehow, he's always brought that special something to the game of football. And considering his age, not to mention not having anything to prove at this point, his enthusiasm for the game (and winning in general) is simply unparalleled. I mean as talented as he is, I never have that much fun watching Tom Brady play football.

But Brett Favre? He's undeniably fun to watch, and the Saints game was a testimony to that. And while it didn't turn out like me (and countless Vikings fans) would've hoped, I'm guessing the Vikings wouldn't have made it that far without him. I mean if they hadn't already blown countless opportunities to win that game (cue: fumbles galore), Brett never would've needed to make that bad throw, but c'est la vie.

All I've got to say is that I'd watch him play for the Vikings again, so I really hope he'll consider giving it just one more go. And if he does, I'll faithfully watch him and Aaron Rodgers play each and every Sunday...who says you can't root for the Packers and have your Favre, too?

Yay, It's Awards Season...

Yes, like many girls, I enjoy the oh-so-guilty pleasure of watching the red carpet pre-show before all the big awards shows...the Grammy's, Oscar's, Golden Globes, you name it...

And while there weren't any faux pas of Bjork proportions (yes, I'm referencing the infamous swan dress), I'm very, very curious about what the designer was thinking when he created Drew Barrymore's sparkler from last night.

 

Is that supposed to be a cuddly amoeba-like friend to keep her company when she accepted her award (too bad it couldn't have calmed her down during that rambly, uncomfortable speech of hers)? A convenient place to store lip gloss or a breath mint? What?

I mean, her overall look is much, much better than last year's I-stuck-my-finger-in-a-light-socket hair, but I'm still trying to figure out the method to the dress madness. 

Seriously, the mind reels...