books

I can’t believe we’re wrapping up 2011. It’s been an eventful year but just because stuff happened doesn’t mean I dropped the ball when it came to my annual reading goal. This year, though, I was [un]lucky to have my first semester reading list, which meant taking on 20 “serious” books for writing, which meant almost a book a week between June through November, which meant that the quality of books I read went way up and that I’m surprised my eyesight hasn’t gotten bad from all the page turning.

Somehow I managed to still read 40 books (and hopefully one more: Cold Comfort Farm which I’m reading right now) over the past year. I’m proud because I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it and that I’d have to disembowel myself for dishonoring the family. Or something like that.

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This is what it’s like when I try to read a book at home. Someone won’t leave me alone.

There’s only one reason why my afternoon would turn into a hot mess of geeky convention goers and Flannery O’Connor, and that’s the downtime between covering panels at San Diego Comic-Con. (Duh, couldn’t you have figured out?)

For the first time (EVER!!), I’m actually in San Diego for Comic-Con. Several years ago, being in San Diego for SDCC was pure coincidence with horrible results (traffic is so awful here, I don’t even know why San Diego-ites leave the house during this week) and for the past couple, I’ve been enjoying all the things that come out of the Convention Center via television and long hours in my cubicle. This time, I was given the opportunity to come in person and yeah…it’s been quite an experience.

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At first, it was indiscernible. A soft roll of breath, like a collective sigh that would let itself go around me. An invisible, low groan by an invisible flock of pigeons. By the third, fourth and fifteenth time, I figured out what this was: the odd sound that people are compelled to do after poetry is read.

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Listen, I love Harry Potter and all but adding a time travel element to your universe about halfway through the book is kind of dumb. I’ve been questioning the logic behind this since…well…you first introduced Hermione’s time-turner necklace. So??

A couple of years ago, I decided to take on a personal challenge of reading at least 50 books a year. The first time, it turned out to be easy because I don’t know, maybe I was bored or something. Last year, I only made it to 25 but that’s because I don’t know, I was busy. This year, I failed again because I don’t know, I was too busy thinking about not eating donuts. That being said, I just started my 40th book (One Day by David Nicholls lent to me by the coolest sister in law ever) and I might just stop there, unless I somehow lug around 10 books during the holiday sin the next week or so. Do you think I can do it? IS THIS ANOTHER CHALLENGE?!? Okay.

In case anyone cares (and I know the answer is no), here’s what I read in 2010:

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A while ago, I grabbed an old Sanrio notebook from my room at my parent’s house to use for class. I first bought the folder for school during one of the summers I spent in Japan between 7th and 8th grade, but I thought it was too cute to actually write in it. I even filled it with extra notebook paper so I could use those before wasting the actual paper (covered in Sanrio puppies) that came with the folder, so all of the pages are still intact: clean and white with maybe only a touch of fading around the corners. Other than that, it’s still perfectly brand new, and that’s how it collected dust on my book shelf for over 10 years.

I’m weird like that, I guess. I liked collecting stationary but the thought of “using it all up” and eventually throw away was a day I wanted to push back as much as possible. Looking back, I guess it was the dislike that something so new, pristine and pretty would soon age, wither away and become ugly. I hated when crayons would lose their original sharp edge or when the felt tips of markers would become soft and dry. This explains why I still have a perfect set of scented markers that I stole from elementary school, because I was afraid to “use them up.”

Coming across these saved stationary items can be a shock, though, especially when I opened up the Sanrio puppy notebook and found a post-it note from my grandfather, who passed away when I was in 10th grade. I have no idea why I stuck this paper on the inside of my notebook, but he used to scribble on everything with a big, fat permanent marker (I think because his eyesight was going bad, so writing everything in large print would help him see what he was doing). He also used to try to push me to read more (if that was possible) and get serious about college. One time, he had me read aloud all the names on the college football schedule in the newspaper and I had no idea why, until I later realized he just wanted me to get to know college names better–the irony being that I ended up going to a school where football barely existed. At least, that’s what I think he wanted me to do. I never asked him. Maybe he thought I was retarded and just wanted to make sure I knew how to read. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he gave me this post-it note so I could pick something he had on hold for me in a Downtown bookstore.

I have no idea if my Obaachan and I went to get the book or what happened with it, but it’s still unsettling to see his handwriting after so many years. And I mean unsettling in a good way. I guess it’s a reminder from the past, and that not everything important is something that’s happening right here, right now. Unless it’s my birthday. That’s coming up soon and should be the most important thing in your life. Yes, YOU.

*Kudos to Mike for coming up with the most awesome title ever.