What could possibly improve on a Mother’s Day spent with The Very Best Boy in the Whole Wide World? How about throwing in Robert Downy Jr. on the big screen? Swoon! I honestly think I would be happy to watch that man eat a bowl of cereal and fold laundry, so seeing him reprise his role as Tony Stark/Iron Man was a lovely treat on a lovely day.

I had expected to be a little disappointed in IM2, so I was pleasantly surprised. It’s nowhere near as dark (literally and figuratively) as The Dark Knight, but it takes a similarly sober look at what it must be like for a human with no super powers to decide it’s his job to save the world. I’ve never read an Iron Man comic, so I don’t know anything about the story beyond what’s presented in the movies, but I think this movie goes a long way toward showing how much of an egomaniac you have to be to think protecting all of mankind is up to you—and that arrogance is something you rarely see in someone who’s supposed to be a hero. Combine that contradiction with struggles with depression and alcoholism, and a genuine desire to do good and to love and be loved, and you’ve got yourself one interesting fella.

RDJr’s talent is arguably wasted on playing a comic book hero, because I honestly believe he’s one of those actors whose talent raises entertainment to art: I believe he could play roles that could change peoples’ lives. He brings so much pain, humanity, and fragility to Tony Stark, though, that I almost sort of wonder if maybe someone might look into those big liquid eyes and find inspiration to face a fear and become a better person.

Boy, that’s a little serious for Iron Man and Monday morning, isn’t it? I blame RDJr’s eyes for turning me to mush. I’m already looking forward to IM3, and despite some skepticism, further interactions between RDJr’s Tony Stark and the very definition of badass that is Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury have me looking forward to seeing what happens with The Avengers.

I’m also looking forward to the NEXT Sookie Stackhouse novel, because I gobbled up the newest one, Dead in the Family, within a few hours of its appearance on my front porch (thank you, Amazon Prime). I don’t know how many more books Harris plans to write about Sookie & Pals, but I almost wish I hadn’t started on them until the whole series was completed; I hate having to wait to find out what comes next. Damn Carly Simon and her anticipation!

Aside from the Sookie, I’ve been ripping through all kinds of books lately. I bought Steve Almond’s newest, Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life, which is a great book for anyone who cares about music. Even though I didn’t know much or anything about some of the music and bands he writes about, the writing is good and funny and fun and the occasional exegesis (my favorite is of Toto’s Africa) makes the price of admission (especially if it’s a library book) well worth it.

I read Jen Lancaster’s Pretty in Plaid last week, and chuckled all though it. She’s a little older than me, and so was ahead of the curve on when she was able to buy her own clothes and choose her own music, but I was familiar with pretty much everything she wrote about, fashion-wise. And while I wasn’t a sorority girl—after going through rush and getting an idea of what the whole thing was about I sort of became vehemently anti-sorority—it was amusing to read about her experiences. Frustrating, too, as you could watch her develop the patterns that got her into such big trouble in Bitter is the New Black. It’s weird to have that kind of insight into a total stranger’s life, but there you go.

I’m just about finished with Susan J. Douglas’s new book, Enlightened Sexism. Douglas is my favorite feminist writer—her Where the Girls Are made me want to turn my undergraduate certificate in Women’s Studies into a PhD so I could launch into a career of sucking up pop culture and then writing and teaching about it from a feminist perspective. I never did that, obviously, but sometimes I think I still might. You know how someone said that if you could find work that’s like play, you’ll never work a day in your life? I think being Douglas’s protégé would do that for me.

My good pal BabelBabe stopped over last week for Knitting, and while I don’t think either one of us knitted a single stitch, we had a nice visit. She left me with The Forgotten Garden, which is a nice, rich, chewy family drama set in Australia. So far, so good, but it’s made me realize that aside from Bill Bryson’s In a Sunburned Country, I can’t think of anything else I’ve read that’s set there. What am I not thinking of?

I’m talky today, huh? I should go listen to the president try to convince me that Elena Kagen is a better choice than Diana Wood. Time will tell, I guess.