Actual Ramblings

So, right now I'm kind of procrastinating because I'm going to a wedding tomorrow, and I still don't know what I'm going to wear or if I should wear casual clothes until I find a convenient fast food place closer to there to change in to my nice clothes or just find a nice outfit that's actually comfortable to wear on a four and a half hour trip or what.  So, you know, instead of actually standing in front of my closet wondering what to wear, I'm blogging.

So, let's see...I've been reading The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes lately.  It's due on Monday, but I'm going to have to renew it because I've got, like, 570 pages to go, and with the wedding tomorrow and church on Sunday, I doubt I'm going to get that many pages in during that time span.  Unless, I somehow perfect the art of reading and driving at the same time or read Sherlock Holmes during the wedding...and I don't think the bride and groom would like that.  Especially since I actually care about these people.  I mean, the guy is like a little brother to me.  You know, as if I didn't already have two younger brothers, I went to college and picked up more brothers.  I should blog about that sometime.  Because, honestly, having guy friends is really important.  The thing is, I can't give you any tips on how to make it happen, because it just happens.  I don't have any magical formula I follow.  It just kind of happens, and next thing you know, we're eating Oreos and singing songs and everyone's happy.

Yes, my dear readership, that does say Triple Double Oreo.  It is the king of Oreos.  The ultimate of ultimates.  Three cookies and two layers of frosting all merging together into the greatest party your taste buds have known.  Unless, of course, you've had Four Cheese Cheez-Its.

Literally, I went to a church with a guy who the first time he had Four Cheese Cheez-Its was like, "It's like a party in your mouth!"  So, yeah, you know, if you were really wondering what snack foods you should go out and buy next, I recommend Triple Double Oreos and Four Cheese Cheez-Its.

This post is definitely a lesson in not blogging instead of having supper because you don't feel like walking across the apartment and throwing some fish sticks in the oven or whatever it is I'll be doing.  I'm not exactly in a fish fingers and custard mood.

Obligatory Doctor Who reference

I'm more in a I-just-want-to-read-Sherlock-Holmes-why-do-I-have-to-eat-he-never-seems-to-need-to-eat sort of mood.

Honestly, though, I actually cried today from reading Sherlock Holmes.  No, not when he and Moriarty went over the Reichenbach Falls.  The part where he comes back.  I spent half of "The Adventure of the Empty House" in tears, which means I will probably be in tears when Season Three of Sherlock finally airs.

I mean, I haven't even been waiting as long as some people, and I still want to know how Moffat is bringing Sherlock back.  I mean, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did a fantastic job of bringing Sherlock Holmes back, but the way it happened in the TV show, it's just not going to be feasible to do that.  I read through theories upon theories, but none of them seem just right.  I can't wait until we find out what actually happened.

You know, considering the wedding is on the UP, maybe I should just, you know, wear this:

Just Kidding!

Yeah, the story behind that picture is that I needed to wear something to protect my dress while roomie did my hair, and since it was the end of the school year and everything needed to be in boxes, I just grabbed the first button up shirt I could find...which happened to be plaid and flannel and stuff.  I would never actually go out in public like that.  Well, yes, go out in public in the flannel, but not over a nice dress.  I'm not that much of a hick!

"But you're a nerd!"
Well, yes, but hick and nerd aren't too COMPLETEY incompatible ways of life.  I mean, have you ever watched The Red Green Show?

It's Canadian.

Ugh...okay, stomach I shall feed you since you're whining so much.  And, yes, Sherlock Holmes, I will read you.  And, clothes...we'll throw something together in the morning.  Before I leave bright an early at eight thirty in the morning!

Books and Me

So, I've kind of had this problem for a really long time.  Only, I suppose it's not really a problem.  I mean, it really is a good thing.  They say too much of a good thing is a bad thing, but I fail to see how that applies in my case.

I love books.

Books, books, books.

Novels, classics, historical fiction, biographies, histories, fairy tales, picture books, even the occasional book about science--you name it, I read it.  I don't know how long this has been going on for, but since I turn twenty-three in July, probably it's been going on for nearly twenty-three years now?  I mean, I can't really remember a time when I wasn't asking my parents to "Read a book."  I'm one of those kids who grew up in a house surrounded by books.  I tried reading Charlotte's Web in kindergarten when my parents bought it for me, but I stopped because because it wasn't like the movie.  Fortunately, I tried it again the next year in first grade and succeeded.

I still did manage to get my first chapter book in during kindergarten though--Edwin and Emily.  I think it was only about three or four chapters long, but it was second grade level, and it did have black and white pictures, so I have definitely always counted it as my first chapter book.  I can't tell you the name of the first book I read--whether it was some book assigned to me from preschool or if I did it on my own at home, but I always remember that my first chapter book was Edwin and Emily.

Anyway, so, as I was saying, I don't have a book problem.  My wallet only escaped Barnes & Noble today within an inch of it's life but I don't have a book problem!  (Mom, if you're reading this, let's just say that this was my regular early summer trip to Barnes & Noble to determine what books I want for her birthday.  I'm currently work on narrowing it down, even though it's painful.)  I mean, I wasn't even aware until last year sometime that apparently "bookworm" is a negative term.  I always thought it was a good thing because reading is a good thing.  I mean, yes, I do like hanging out with people, but even with as much of a social butterfly as I can be, something wonderful can be found in just spending time reading.

Just look at that little guy!  Isn't he awesome?

Yes, you could possibly point out the fact that I have no shelf space in my apartment left for books.  That is also a false statement.  I will simply find some way to condense the items on my closet shelves in order to make room for more books.  You know, if I buy anymore before I move this summer.  There is always room in my life for more books.  If we lived in a time and place where there was the dowry system, my husband-to-be would be forced to accept my books as my dowry because my parents would never have a chance to save up for one because their daughter just kept NEEDING books and book shelves.

Maybe I should just move into Barnes & Noble.  They have all the shelf space I need.

Quite honestly, the most dangerous thing someone could ever do is give me an all-expense paid shopping spree to Barnes & Noble.

Yes, basically I'm one of those people who was born with a book list she will never finish.  I mean, why do I want more books for my birthday when I probably easily have several dozen in my apartment I haven't read yet?  Because I'm a bibliophiliac, a bookworm, a readaholic.  I'm always reading something.  No, wait, I'm always reading several books.






"Don't you get the plots all confused?"

How in the world could one get the plot lines of Les Miserables, Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, The Odyssey, and the Bible confused?

Your brain has just now attempted to combine all of those, hasn't it?  See what I mean?

The reason some might think plot lines would get confused is because they only read one genre of book.  I mean, if you're obsessed with vampires, I can see how you would get your plots confused.  Although, I really hope that you wouldn't imagine Bella in love with Dracula, because I've read about half of Dracula, and...he doesn't sparkle.  (No, I haven't read Twilight at all.  But I've heard enough.)  And, honestly, even back when basically almost all I read was historical fiction and Baby-Sitter's Club, I didn't get the plot lines confused.  I mean, yes, Anastasia Krupnik, Blubber, Lindsey, and The 7 1/2 Sins of Stacey Kendall did kind of all blend together once upon a time, but after I reread them, everything sorted itself back out all right.

"You reread books?"

Yes, because a terribly wonderful book deserves to be read over and over again.  And "terribly wonderful" doesn't always mean it won awards or that the author made a ton of money.  What makes a terribly wonderful book is how it touched your life.  I could read a Pulitzer novel and walk away completely unaffected--bored out of my mind even (This has happened.).  However, a book few people may have heard of can touch your life so deeply and personally that you and the book become friends for life.  You come back to that book like a child who comes back to its favorite toy no matter how many new ones the parents buy.  Maybe it looks old and raggedy and worn out, but you don't care because the words within are what matters most.  These are the words that made you laugh, that made you cry, that proved to you that you are not alone.

And that is why reading is so wonderful.