Something lost

A few friends sent me a note on Facebook of the 100 books the BBC bets most people have not read more than six of. While pleased to realize that I've read or half-read many of them, it made me realize something else: I've gotten away from reading. I used to be the consummate bookworm, waking up early in middle school just so I could read. I loved almost nothing more than books. They were my favorite gift. I still refuse to buy a Kindle because, to me, even though it's convenient, there's just something about the tactile feeling of holding a book and flipping pages that I will always love. My bookshelves show a life history.

I make excuses about why I don't read as much: I have lessons to plan and essays to grade, I have to clean the house, I'm not home all evening, it's too solitary.... But I took a look at myself this past weekend, and I had plenty of opportunity to read. Plenty. And what did I do? I tooled around on the computer and I watched TV. Lots of it. When did I become what I most feared? When did I allow screens to overtake ink and paper? I have books I received over a year ago and I haven't cracked them. As I get older and add more to my life, I know my own personal time will become even more limited. So I guess it's a question of how I want to spend the minutes to myself, which grow more precious and few (...wait, isn't that a song title?) as time goes on. And it's something I can do something about.

Therefore, after this, I think I'm going to go upstairs and read. Even if it's something I've read before but haven't read in a while (Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis, if you must know), it's still me getting back to an essential part of me for as long as I can.

Oh boy

I think a month between posts really is too long, but I can't really write about my job too much for obvious reasons (as a teacher, I feel certain obligations) and grades were just due and, well, it's been a busy fall, kids. Quite busy.

But I felt I owed you all something because you seem to like my little witticisms and anecdotes, so I will try. I have to take a nap soon because we're going out at 9 to meet a friend at a bar for her birthday, and really, what crazy folks go out at 9 on a Friday!?!?! Oh yeah, normal people. So weenie me needs to get some time in because if I have more than two drinks, I will start to fall asleep at the bar. This actually happened to me once. I swear. It's why I don't drink more than one glass of red wine out because, for some reason, that stuff is like codeine for me: I was talking to this lovely woman whom I'd just met and began to fall asleep while I was talking to her. Hand of God, it happened. Deeply embarrassed, I lied and told her I'd taken cold medication and forgotten, and it must have reacted with the wine. She graciously waved it off, I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, and drank club soda for the rest of the night. So, no wine for me tonight. I'll rally and have fun and act like someone who doesn't fall asleep with the time change.

What else, what else? Let's see...so excited about Harry Potter that I can barely contain myself. A, do you want to go with me on Saturday for a matinee? I do love seeing it at night, but it will be SO CROWDED. Plus I'm booked Friday night. Hell, I'll go by myself. One of my favorite movie-going ventures was seeing The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers on opening night by myself. I had no trouble finding a seat, the people next to me shared their popcorn, and we all cheered and marveled at the latest masterpiece. Dammit. Now I want to go on Friday and I can't. That really is fun, when all the fellow Potter nerds are seeing how it all unfolds, comparing it to the novel and all that. OK, A, want to go on Saturday night with me?

Honestly, the rest of my days and nights have been filled with small pleasures and work, which I love. Friends visiting here and there, winterizing the house, playing with Penny, the usual. I feel quite lucky and blessed to have this little life, so I'm off to enjoy it. Have a good weekend, my dears!