where the heart is
june 28th, 2000

i'm on page 101 of where the heart is by billie letts and i am completely 
entranced. i had seen the previews for the film based on the book a few 
months ago and had an intense desire to go see it, but first being in the 
process of moving and then being nearly an hour away from any respectable 
theater that would possible carry it, coupled with the fact that 
going-out-to-the-movies is not a luxury i've indulged in since the 
starfish was born...well, needless to say it was quickly added to the 
neverending list of 
movies-devon-is-going-to-see-when-they-come-out-on-video (one of these 
being sleepy hollow which i desperately need to go rent.) however, i could 
not be the happier for having not seen the hollywood adaptation of these 
words. the blank spaces are filled with my own images, personal 
characteratures, and scenery, as opposed to the elaborate setwork, the 
star-studded cast, and the dramatic music that might hinder my imagination 
and distance me from personally experiencing this book as much as i am. 
and i am, by god.

the pretentious english major in me is appalled at myself for deriving 
such immense enjoyment from best-seller-pulp-material. shouldn't i had 
been more absorbed in emily bronte's wuthering heights which served as the 
appetizer to this day's reading binge? why not tackle cervantes or joyce, 
or any number of the unread novels filling my bookshelves? how dare 
something i find on the shelves at wal-mart only yesterday prove to be so 
meaningful and profound? and i immerse myself in the fiction and the 
fanfare and become a mindless-american-media-child, much to the 
english-major-in-me's dismay, even though i remind it that jonathan 
livingston seagull was parked in the bargain bin of the same store, and 
that my favourite magical dream bracelet was merely 75 cents at the corner 
gas station. the most important and magical things always happen where you 
least expect them. life gives us lessons wrapped in ridiculous packaging. 
yesterday, too, you answered a ringing payphone on a lark and ended up 
being the unknowing answering service for karen, the woman selling 
fireworks for the forth of july beside the BP. and that could be the 
beginning of the story.

which is the point of this book. and this book is my story. i mean, i 
didn't have my baby in the floor of walmart, and i didn't end up abandoned 
in a strange town in the middle of oklahoma with no money in my pocket, 
but the *truth* behind the book is my *truth*. the emotions these pages 
evoke are the same emotions i carried with me on my journey over the 
threshold of motherhood. the utter confusion and almost comedic perception 
at the ridiculousness of the situations i found myself in, the amazement 
at the total and deep kindness of complete and utter strangeness, scared 
and alone and having not a clue in the world of what to do next, or how to 
do it, starting out with big dreams and having them all dashed to bits and 
replaced by completely new ones, the anger and resentment one feels at 
having to start out on such a journey alone, and then the pride and 
confidence one gains after you come to the realization that you really 
*can* make the journey alone - it's me. it's tennessee, it's my underclass 
roots, it's the big dreams of a home without any wheels beneath, it's 
everything i was when i began this journey evolving into everything i've 
become since - it feels good reading this book. it's been ages since i've 
been able to laugh out loud or point or giggle or cry or exclaim, "awwww, 
how sweet!" (forney is the epitome of the sweet nutty intellectual 
artistic dorkiness i always look for in a guy) or ecstatically ramble off 
paragraphs of the novel to whoever might be listening (much to my mother's 
dismay, as she cannot get away from the impression that a pregnant girl 
living in wal-mart for three months is the most ridiculous idea she's ever 
heard of in her entire life)...it feels good.

the only thing that doesn't feel good is the cause of my sudden reading 
binge - my knee isn't working anymore. it started last night while i was 
playing basketball with my daughter (yes, my ten month old daughter really 
does play basketball - i'll dribble it around the house and pass it to 
her, and then she'll carry it over to the super-saucer and throw it in the 
center where the seat is which is the perfect basket-shape and then she'll 
clap her hands together and grin at me and i'll clap my hands and it is 
absolutely the most adorable thing on the face of the planet) and then 
suddenly i had this intense pain in my right knee and it hasn't really 
gotten any better sense. it's difficult to walk on, and nearly impossible 
to carry things. it seems to be improving as the night wears on, but as i 
have been trying to stay off of it as much as possible and my mother has 
been monopolizing the computer all day, i've spent the entire day 
alternating between reading and playing with my daughter, which has made 
for a pretty enjoyable day, in spite of my injuries.

at any rate, i believe i have finished my book review for the evening, and 
so i am going to go entrench myself in the pages once again, until my eyes 
simply refuse to do anything but close for sleep. that ought to be a sign 
outside of a gas station, or a grocery store. "closed for sleep." if i 
ever have a gas station, or a grocery store, or a novelty shop, i'll make 
a sign like that.