Girls Like Us is first up on my summer reading list, thanks to today’s review in the NYT. Fingers crossed that it’s not merely a paparazzi-esque account of the personal lives of three fascinating artists but actually says something about gender, love, feminism, and art. And I hope the book doesn’t turn out to be actually about another, more famous JT. Salma Hayak’s Frida was mostly about Diego Rivera, and that annoyed me. I’ve never understood the strength of my own affinity for Joni Mitchell and her music. Thankfully, I’ve never suffered even a fraction of what she describes in her songs. Still, I find myself relating to them and having to remind myself – “um, no. that actually never happened to me.”  Carole King is my emergency karaoke pick – songs that are are short, sweet and in a key I can handle.  Close Your Eyes is CJC’s favorite bedtime song these days; hearing a two year-old belt out: “I can’t sing the blues anymore” to herself is truly outstanding.

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