I'm pro-!'s and anti-Hilary Duff covering songs written before she was born.
bitevo: I finished my class and then got really excited because I felt so free
bitevo: and I nearly began reading a mechie book for fun
bitevo: have I unknowingly gone insane?
This is my first [presumably] semi-annual end-of-semester entry. I will now do the [presumably] standard "good parts/bad parts" routine.
The good parts are as follows: I have done a fair amount of non-academic reading. A fair amount constitutes "good" because typically, I will have read no more than six pages "for fun" - probably evenly distributed between the first and last week. This time around I've read a couple Nick Hornby novels, finished all 544 pages of Middlesex, and got about halfway through Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. So that's like, "A REALLY Short History of SOME Things." Whatever, the title was misleading to begin with. The book isn't that short.
In the process I learned that I don't really have much taste. It's true, I either choose books based on recommendations from people who have taste or I choose them based on the cover. For example, I refuse to buy anything in hardback. Generally, when a publisher releases a paperback edition, it means the hardback version wasn't a disgusting waste of money. Unless it originally came out in paperback like those straight-to-video movies, but let's pretend for a moment that humanity is above things like Popstar (Aaron Carter's motion picture debut?...and no, I haven't seen it - I may lack taste, but that would just be un-American).
Also, I like kinda-flashy looking covers. Contemporary writers have covers like that. Faulkner and the Bronte sisters have petticoats and parasols. I know petticoats and parasols have their merits, but they just aren't my thing. I like neon signs and eggs served sunny side up. Those books are cool and edgy. Like I said - no taste.
Not to mention I like almost every book I finish. You could make the argument that I only finish the books I like, but I like almost every book I start, too. It's possible that I didn't really enjoy the half finished copy of Catch-22 sitting on my bookshelf, but I really sincerely think I did. And I bet I'd like the rest of it, you know, if I remembered what happened in the first half and could pick up where I left off.
When other people finish books, they're like, "Yeah! That was great! I'm glad I finished it!" or they're like "Wow, what a piece of shit. I'm glad that's over with." I'm like, "Aww, I'm so sad it's over. I will never again experience the joy of reading my new favorite book for the first time." But the thing is, the next book I read will probably be my new favorite book, too. And the one after that and after that and you get the idea.
I would be the worst book critic ever. Don't ask me whether Nick Hornby's How to Be Good is worth reading because I'm going to say "I liked it" and that pretty much means "I read it." If you asked a book critic, he/she would say, "It's the worst Nick Hornby novel ever published." Like I said - no taste.
So, the bad parts of the semester are as follows: I could say "everything else" but that's really negative and being negative in the middle of December is against my moral code. I will say this, though. I regularly watch CSI set in all geographical locations. Thanks to VH1 and its regrettable tendency to show reruns, I'm caught up on the first three seasons of America's Next Top Model. I also began updating my LiveJournal after nearly six months of inactivity. Now that should give you a little insight into my productivity level and uselessness as a human being. But let's not dwell on the negative.
bitevo: and I nearly began reading a mechie book for fun
bitevo: have I unknowingly gone insane?
This is my first [presumably] semi-annual end-of-semester entry. I will now do the [presumably] standard "good parts/bad parts" routine.
The good parts are as follows: I have done a fair amount of non-academic reading. A fair amount constitutes "good" because typically, I will have read no more than six pages "for fun" - probably evenly distributed between the first and last week. This time around I've read a couple Nick Hornby novels, finished all 544 pages of Middlesex, and got about halfway through Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. So that's like, "A REALLY Short History of SOME Things." Whatever, the title was misleading to begin with. The book isn't that short.
In the process I learned that I don't really have much taste. It's true, I either choose books based on recommendations from people who have taste or I choose them based on the cover. For example, I refuse to buy anything in hardback. Generally, when a publisher releases a paperback edition, it means the hardback version wasn't a disgusting waste of money. Unless it originally came out in paperback like those straight-to-video movies, but let's pretend for a moment that humanity is above things like Popstar (Aaron Carter's motion picture debut?...and no, I haven't seen it - I may lack taste, but that would just be un-American).
Also, I like kinda-flashy looking covers. Contemporary writers have covers like that. Faulkner and the Bronte sisters have petticoats and parasols. I know petticoats and parasols have their merits, but they just aren't my thing. I like neon signs and eggs served sunny side up. Those books are cool and edgy. Like I said - no taste.
Not to mention I like almost every book I finish. You could make the argument that I only finish the books I like, but I like almost every book I start, too. It's possible that I didn't really enjoy the half finished copy of Catch-22 sitting on my bookshelf, but I really sincerely think I did. And I bet I'd like the rest of it, you know, if I remembered what happened in the first half and could pick up where I left off.
When other people finish books, they're like, "Yeah! That was great! I'm glad I finished it!" or they're like "Wow, what a piece of shit. I'm glad that's over with." I'm like, "Aww, I'm so sad it's over. I will never again experience the joy of reading my new favorite book for the first time." But the thing is, the next book I read will probably be my new favorite book, too. And the one after that and after that and you get the idea.
I would be the worst book critic ever. Don't ask me whether Nick Hornby's How to Be Good is worth reading because I'm going to say "I liked it" and that pretty much means "I read it." If you asked a book critic, he/she would say, "It's the worst Nick Hornby novel ever published." Like I said - no taste.
So, the bad parts of the semester are as follows: I could say "everything else" but that's really negative and being negative in the middle of December is against my moral code. I will say this, though. I regularly watch CSI set in all geographical locations. Thanks to VH1 and its regrettable tendency to show reruns, I'm caught up on the first three seasons of America's Next Top Model. I also began updating my LiveJournal after nearly six months of inactivity. Now that should give you a little insight into my productivity level and uselessness as a human being. But let's not dwell on the negative.