In the summer, there is nothing I love more than laying on the beach with a cold drink and a good book. One of my favorite genres for summer reading is biography and for some odd reason, I tend to gravitate to memoirs of alcohol and drug abuse. Don’t ask me why, but I love to read memoirs of addicts. Maybe it’s the grittiness of the story or that they usually are somewhat recovered by the time they write the book, but I can’t get enough of them! So when I came across “Nice Recovery” by Susan Juby, I didn’t even think twice about digging in.

You may recognize Susan Juby’s name; that’s because she is a best-selling teen fiction author. She is also a recovered alcoholic. Juby’s memoir begins with her first, very insignificant drink at a wedding, but her alcoholism actually starts when she is 13. Always considered a bright, capable student and gifted writer, she decides to start hanging out with the wrong crowd (or the people her mother refers to as “bad news”) and gets heavy into partying. After being sent to live with various relatives all over British Columbia and somehow managing to graduate high school, Juby moves on to fashion design school in Toronto. Once there, she continues to drink herself silly and, eventually, out of school. During her time as a student, she out-drinks everyone she meets and begins to see a bigger and bigger divide forming between her and her peers when it comes to drinking. Then, she gets a couple wake-up calls and decides to sober up at the ripe old age of 20, just when most people begin their drinking career.

I found that I was really able to relate to Susan’s story. I myself was a pretty big partier in high school and have since considerably settled down. I’m not sober, but I haven’t been drunk in over a year, and I kind of like it that way. People can never believe how little I drink and that I have no desire to get hammered. I’m constantly being pressured by friends, but honestly, drinking effects me way too much and the night out is never worth the hangover (at least in my case!). Anyways, my feelings aside, the book is so refreshing and definitely stands out amongst the alcoholic-memoirs I’ve read. It’s poignant, funny and above all, totally real. Read More »

I’m a sucker for a great non-fiction book and biographies are no exception! I find biographies so powerful; fiction can be wild and created, but imagined. Part of the appeal of biographies is that all the wildness is REAL and TRUE.

And by far one of the craziest biographies I’ve ever read has to be Jeannette Walls’ “The Glass Castle.” From the outside, adult Jeannette appears relatively normal. She is a successful, beautiful journalist living the life. But for years Jeannette harbored the secrets of her absolutely unconventional, tough upbringing and finally shares them with the world in “The Glass Castle.” Now, some of you may think that you had strange upbringings. Maybe your family moved a lot or your parents were a little bit different, but trust me, you have nothing on the Walls family.

Jeannette appropriately begins her memoir with her first memory. She is three years old and cooking hot dogs on the stove. Yes, you read that right, three years old, practically a baby, and cooking! Jeannette, being an innocent child, doesn’t realize all the safety precautions involved in cooking on a stove and her dress manages to catch fire. She screams for her mother, who comes and puts out the flames with an army surplus blanket and them gets a ride with their neighbor to the hospital. There, Jeannette is treated for massive burns and even has to undergo a skin graft.

WTF, right? What person in their right mind lets a three year old cook!? But, of course, it gets worse. After spending several weeks in the hospital, and still with much time left in her recovery, Jeannette’s father arrives and announces that he is busting her out. He disconnects her IV, picks her up in his arms, runs out of the hospital with little Jeannette and hops into the family’s getaway car. Read More »

I’m not sure about your neck of the woods, but for Northern Ontario, September means dreary. No sun, high humidity – you know what I’m talking about. And so I like to make my soundtrack fit that mold by switching over to some grungy, dark music. Naturally, I’m spinning Nirvana non-stop and have turned to re-read one of my absolute favorites: “Heavier Than Heaven” by Charles Cross, the bio of Nirvana frontman, Kurt Cobain.

Back when I was about 15, I fell hard for a bad boy named Jack. He was a plaid-sporting, guitar-toting grunge god and, of course, worshiped at the Nirvana altar. Yes, I admit it – the discovery of my favorite band for about 5 years stemmed from a schoolgirl crush. But that doesn’t make it any less legitimate, in my opinion. Just like a I fell for Jack, I fell for Kurt. When you’re 15 and everything that is pumped through the radios and mall speakers is top 4o, discovering alternative music is like someone pulling the wool OFF your eyes. I couldn’t believe that there was all this amazing music out there that I had never even heard of!

Okay, back on track. So I as I hankered to learn everything I could about Nirvana and impress Jack, I stumbled upon a book called “Heavier Than Heaven”. I figured a biography would be a treasure trove of knowledge! And I was right, it was! But it was so much more, too!

Kurt Cobain is revered as a god in most music circles. He knocked Michael Jackson, the King of Pop, off the #1 spot in the Billboard Chart for god’s sake! Even if grunge is not your thing, you still respect him for revolutionizing the music scene. However, “Heavier Than Heaven” brings Kurt Cobain back to earth and knocks him off his pedestal so to speak. And that’s my favorite part. Read More »

Big effing deal, you have a boyfriend. The rest of the world really doesn’t need to know how much you love each other, how much it hurts to wait five minutes between tonsil-hockey sessions, or… well, how much you’ve got him whipped. Sure, I’ve been in love before, but in a watch-the-sunrise-over-bong-rips kinda way, not a need-to-keep-my-hand-on-your-ass-to-claim-my-territory kinda way. Here are some of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to coupling up.

1. Making out in totally non-romantic places.

If I see the two of you pawing each other at the Trevi Fountain in Italy, I’ll forgive you. Now THAT is romantic. But seriously – to the couple who gets on the dirty, overcrowded subway and feels the need to look into each other’s eyes, whisper sweet nothings, and make out for all of three stops – save it. Same for the couple who starts going at it in the checkout line at Rite-Aid. Unless you’re buying condoms, why are you so worked up already? And if you are buying condoms, then save it for the bedroom.

2. Sharing a calendar.

Just because you’re a couple doesn’t mean you can’t be individuals. I hate the girl who’s there for you every time… as long as she’s single. Once the “relationship” label gets slapped on some people, they have to synchronize their scheds, and like, can’t even go to the bathroom without making sure it won’t disrupt Date Night (the third one this week). It’s great when a girl can bring her boyfriend out with her friends, and vice versa, but if it’s a “Girls’ Night” and Henry’s trailing behind… it’s effing annoying. Read More »

Along with books, another obsession of mine is music. I have what one would call “eclectic” taste, in that I like absolutely EVERYTHING. You’re equally as likely to hear me rapping along to Biggie Smalls, belting out a classic from Fleetwood Mac or humming a tune from some little-known indie band about to blow up.

So clearly, I love music biographies.

If you read my list of 5 modern must-reads, you’ll know I encourage everyone to read rockstar biographies. I really love getting inside the brain and life of my favorite musicians; it totally changes the way I see them and gives me a glimpse into their life as a real person.

When I found “I’m With the Band” in the music section of my local bookstore I figured it would be another typical memoir from the music world, but I soon realized it wasn’t your typical music biography.

Pamela Des Barres was a groupie. Not just any groupie – a super groupie. She had flings or relationships with Jim Morrison, Mick Jagger, Keith Moon and even Don Johnson (yes, Miami Vice Don Johnson) and was Frank Zappa’s babysitter! Needless to say, she had an “in” in the music world. Read More »

It’s weird, but I’ve always liked Hugh Hefner.

He’s kind of like this quiet, unassuming, kinky playboy who probably laughs as much as he screws. I respect that. He’s made a career out of vaginas and boobs, but he doesn’t really seem skeevy — at least at 80-Something. He seems cool. And really relaxed. Probably from all that screwing.

And while I can’t understand how he can tolerate those three chicks who follow him around everywhere, I do often wonder what life as Hugh Hefner is like.

Apparently, life as Hugh Hefner includes a foursome and a one-time tryst with a man.

Steven Watts, author of the new biography, “Mr. Playboy: Hugh Hefner and the American Dream”, reports that very early on in his kinky career (1949, to be exact), Hugh spent one night sexing his wife up next to his friend and his friend’s wife – who were sexing each other up on the same bed. Hugh wanted to switch partners that night, but no one was biting (metaphorically, of course). Later, Hef was finally able to attain foursome enlightenment – with his brother and sister-in-law (notice the italics. The italics symbolize my amazement that anyone could stand, let alone want, to have sex within inches of their sibling). Read More »

• Don’t fall into this cuddle-trap, ladies. You’re all better than this. (COED Magazine)

• 73 year old man kicks ass, takes names. Awesome. (10tv.com)

• The pope has a cat? The cat is writing a book? My brain just exploded. (Yahoo!)

• An alert official suspected there may be something sinister behind Mr. Potato Head’s toothy grin. Yeah, Ecstasy. (AFP)

• This is why you don’t plan your wedding on Craigslist. (KATU)

• Looking to finally get healthy? Do it the old-school way! (UK Dailymail)