Review: Kissing Outside the Lines by Diane Farr

Artsy Irish-Italian girl falls in love with cool Korean dude in America.  Their parents are less than pleased. Sound familiar?

When I first read Diane Farr's piece in Modern Love, which ended with the bio indicating she had just published Kissing Outside the Lines on her life as the aforementioned Irish-Italian girl, I believe I ordered the book from BN.com in four seconds flat. I needed to read it. There were other cardholding members out there!  Besides just my sister-in-law and I!  American white girls who wouldn't let go of their Korean men!

Given my vested interest in the subject matter, I have a significant mammoth bias in reviewing her book. In fact, I am so deeply committed to exposing the truth about smooching outside those invisible yet indelible lines that I am probably the worst person to review this book.  Because Farr's book was billed as funny. And reading about another of my countrywomen getting the silent treatment from her beloved's auntie? Is the opposite of funny to me. It ties my stomach in Boy Scout-strength knots.

The content of this book is about 50% of what I would call intuitainment. That is, super amusing writing infused with a lot of intuition and cultural awareness. Farr is a good writer. And a good thinker. Her voice is consistent, even though she ranges from incredulous to earnest to hysterical to so dagnab clever. She really bares the condition of her mind and heart throughout the book.

The investigative nature of the book is a bit lacking, however. Farr essentially interviews a motley assembly of interracial couples in the interest of serving her own curiosity about What It Takes to Make It in this country as an interracial couple. She tells each couple's story in a way that is very conversational and rife with imagery. However, there are many instances in each story where the reader wonders, Really? You're just going to drag those in-laws' reps through the mud and not even allow them to comment on their side of how things all went down when they became estranged from their daughter for marrying the Latino dude? I found this a major shortcoming of the book, even though Farr indicates that this was intentional.

But if I drill down to what the book meant to me, put simply, it was a reminder of how very young I was when I met my husband. And by young, I mean stoopit. Because Farr and her main K-squeeze were in their thirties when they met. They had careers and a few moneys in their bank accounts. They had traveled. They knew stuff about the world and about themselves that I didn't know when I was BARELY OLD ENOUGH TO VOTE. I was 19 when Loverpants and I came together as cookies n' milk. I didn't know what I didn't know. I made a thousand mistakes with his family, not because I was rude, but because I had no guideposts, no manual, no one in the same boat rowing against the current with me.

Looking back, I don't regret all those blunders, all those awkward meals and tense conversations in Korean within my earshot where I would just listen for my name to see if Loverpants and his parents were talking about me.

This book is an important one. It rehashed of a lot of troubling aspects about the culture into which I married, but it also sheds light on a lot of the troubling aspects of American culture that are keeping us from entering that quasi-mythical land of post-racism. I respect the body of work Farr has produced and I hope many more people will read it and discuss it and be nicer to women in hanboks on their wedding day.

*** Won't you PWEEEASE PWEEEASE support this campaign for Ambassadors for Sustained Health?

What's in K's skincare toolbox?

(The following exercise is procrastination of the first degree. I have packed exactly one box today, and evidently the ergonomics of a rice cooker and a cake pan were just altogether a heady business because I spent the afternoon funnin' and saying worshipful things to my wonderful baby daddy on Father's Day.) So, to satisfy the gnawing question of how I maintain this youthful glow, this natural vivaciousness, this easy breezy beautiful like I just stepped out of a salon sometimes I need a little finesse sometimes I don't general aura...here are a few products I use daily to prime my canvas:

1. Cleanser with light exfolliant: I'm a Mary Kay consultant, so I drink that kool-aid (even if I will never qualify for a pink Cadi because I reinvest all my profits in lip gloss inventory) but I do sincerely think their 3-in-1 cleanser is phenomenal.

2. White Tea extract: I have chronic eczema and the only non-prescription product I've found to help is this by Origins.

3. Eye cream: I use MK's. Because gravity is still turned on.

4. Something that boosts collagen. I know this sounds like one of those "let's simulate science!" commercials that uses lots of venn diagrams to show you what happens to your epidermis when free radicals attack it, that is totally not based on hard science and is completely watered down for laymen consumers, but I will attest that I have seen the importance of collagen in my life, particularly in my huge Cabbage Patch Doll cheeks. Again, I use MK's night solution and I'm happy.

5. Lip balm with SPF. I love this one by fresh so much I wanna marry it.

6. Daytime moisturizer with SPF. I find most moisturizers come with an SPF 15, but I am the At-Risk Skin Cancer Society poster child so I best be using one that comes with at least 25.

Stay tuned for: "What's in K's make-up bag?"

Review: Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother

Dear Tiger Mama,

We're both academics, so let's cut each other a little slack here, no? You write like the litigious academic that you are, building your case, providing evidence, then throwing the 1-2 punch. I write like an instructor of the humanities, finding symbolism in everything, reaching for parallels that are probably too far of a stretch. It's fair to say you and I are different in a lot of ways (see also: religion, culture, competitive tendencies) but I think the fact that we both have half-Asian daughters and pursue work in the Ivory Tower offers us some common ground.

I assigned your book to my English Composition I class as a means of pushing through our spring semester. I usually lose my students after spring break (like, literally, I stop seeing them) and I knew your much-hyped book would capture their attention and maybe even help some of their grades. You did not disappoint me, Tiger Mama.

I had many Asian students in my class. A couple from South Korea, China. They piped up when we discussed your book. I was concerned that they would feel hushed given the rage that your book can inspire by those not raised by Tiger Mothers. But my Asian students did not demur. I was proud of them.

One line that our class discussion kept straddling was one that I, too, had trouble crossing. I found your book especially challenging in terms of separating the body of work put forth with the philosophies espoused. Was it a good book? Did I like it? These two questions are so intertwined in reading Tiger Mother. The religion of Chinese motherdom was so painful for me to read, but it was so richly presented that I couldn't help blitz through this. The voices of your daughters and husband seemed so marginalized until the end that I couldn't help but find this a "design flaw" in the writing. But maybe that's all just because I share your goal-orientedness when it comes to parenting. I have goals and fairly clear outcomes that I seek for my children. I wanted to know how this all "turned out" for you and given that your daughter Sophia has accepted her admission ticket to Harvard, I'll be interested to chart the journey that she's charting over on her blog.

I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be friends, Tiger Mother, since it would appear you haven't had much time for friend-making in between rehearsals and lectures, but I think you would be one awesome interview. Maybe our paths will cross at some kind of Raising Half-Asian Kids conference. I'll be the white lady standing by the cookies if you ever want to talk.

Yours, Shamrock Mother