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I started this book a month ago. Sad to say, I still haven’t found my “rhythm” as I’m still far from finishing. It’s not that the book is not good because it really is. “The People of Paper” is probably the most unique story I’ve read in a long time. I love how it boldly changes perspective. Has that been done before? The real problem is that I just get distracted too easily these days (even more than usual). Once upon a time, I read with desperation, turning the pages like a little girl during bedtime eager to know what’s coming next. I don’t know how or why I lost that enthusiasm. I need to get excited about books again. Any interesting new titles? (Dave Eggers, will you please write something?) Let me tell you this though: I will NOT let 2011 end without me finishing this damn book!
Today, I am a VERY, very happy Dave Eggers fan. My copy is number 294 of 500!
Presenting to you.. my brand new bookshelf. My mom had it made for me last month and after weeks of waiting, it is finally here! (Arranging my books made me realize that I don’t have much!)
For me, having incredible difficulty in looking for much-coveted titles only to find them eventually (better if there’s only one copy left) is part of the whole book shopping experience that I really love. I enjoy the challenge of having to look for rare titles in local bookstores, but also feel somewhat triumphant upon clicking that “Add to cart” button when I’m feeling too eager or desperate already. Then, there’s also the excitement that builds up inside of me whenever a sealed brown box arrives at our doorstep — more books! Before I start on a new book, I always smell the pages first, looking for the familiar scent of print on paper. It’s kind of euphoric. Silly? Maybe. But it’s fun nonetheless.
If you have seen some of my books’ photos, you’ll notice that they were always on top of something random — my bed, my window, my bathroom, etc. Because prior to this day, I didn’t have my own bookshelf. We have a couple of shelves here at home. There’s two in the family room, then two in my brother’s old room and one in my dad’s office (he has a massive collection of issues of Reader’s Digest and Time Magazine from 1994 – present). I’ve always expressed my desire to have my own bookshelf in various ways: I whined constantly about having to get my books from the other room, I would point at pretty bookshelves whenever we’re out shopping, and would deliberately scatter my books everywhere (this, I think, was the one that had the most impact).
So finally, my mom told me that she found a good carpenter who was willing to do a couple of tables and cabinets for us for a very good price. First, she had a TV cabinet for my parents’ room made just to see how it’d turn out. When she was sure of the quality and all the other details that mothers like to dwell on when purchasing furniture, she asked me to sketch how I wanted my shelf to look like and to indicate the necessary measurements. I didn’t really know what to sketch because all I wanted was a shelf to put my books on. I’m not really very picky with furniture. So this humble little shelf of mine is the product of that. It’s a little taller than me which is great. I really wanted a tall shelf (Am I writing too much about a stupid shelf?). I’m happy with the way it turned out!
Check out the photos. I’ve arranged some of my own books in alphabetical order already.
A-M
M-Z, some travel and film making books
Anthologies and photo books, a box of McSweeney’s postcards. This would explain why I have two copies of “Will Grayson, Will Grayson”.
Books that are way too big (mostly art and photography books), a graphic novel, and a Beatles book
Or in other words, when you’re a bum, there’s really nothing very interesting to share with people. Except of course if you happen to like taking pictures of inanimate objects like me (although, that’s not to say they’re even remotely interesting). So this post will mostly be filled with new pictures, taken in the past 2 weeks or so (yes, I consider them new). I’ll try to make the captions helpful so you’ll know why I even took the photo in the first place.
This is my mom playing FarmVille. My room is usually crowded on weekends because they prefer to chill here. It’s like the big hot spot of the house. My dog, Yoda, is lounging like a king as usual.
This is the current state of my desk. I think it’s very cluttered (not so much here though because I cleaned it up prior to taking the photo.. naturally). I just had a new bookshelf made and it’s going to be painted white tomorrow to match the rest of my stuff. I’ll have it installed and fixed by next Monday. Yay!
This is the fur-covered edition of Dave Eggers’ “The Wild Things”. My friend went to New York last month and he got me this! For free! How awesome is that?
This is Dave Eggers’ “You Shall Know Our Velocity”. I’m currently reading it and I have to say, I’m really loving it so far. My love for Dave Eggers’ writing = TREMENDOUS.
See? I’m reading it!! (Can this post get any lamer??)
A very sad short story by Sarah Manguso from the short short story collection called, “Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape”.
My dog, Yoda. He has to have a photo in here, of course.
Well, this wins as the lamest blog entry (yet). Watch out because there’ll be more. Unless I get employed or something.
We always hear that saying. But what about, “don’t judge a person by the cover of the book he/she is reading“? I don’t know where I’m going with this entry, but I just suddenly feel like writing about this.
There’s Twilight, for one. I’m pretty sure some of the Twifans (is that what they’re called?) are afraid, or rather, ashamed to read their books outside their own homes. I’ve been curiously watching the strong hate for the series online ever since the first movie came out. It’s probably the craziest book bashing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. Was there a book before that had been as widely bashed as Twilight? Enlighten me.
To be completely honest with you, I have read Twilight. No, I’m not a fan. Yes, I’ve seen the movie (just the first one). I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it either. I guess you could say I’m on the neutral side of the long standing debate about the series. It was weird. It felt more like a diary of a highly hormonal girl who had nothing better to do in life but think about a guy. Actually, it’s like an English “pocket book” – you know, these things? At the same time though, I was completely absorbed. I found myself constantly making unbelievably absurd requests to my then-boyfriend and now that I think about it, I kind of feel bad for him (and for all the other boyfriends who, at one point in their lives, had to compete with a fictional vampire named Edward). Actually, it was more of me, constantly wishing mentally that he’d transform into someone as ideal and as impossibly perfect as Edward. This was how I read the book: I’d turn the pages, skipping the boring parts, and heading straight for the pages with the *SQUEEE* moments. It was purely a guilty pleasure for me.
So this is why I can’t fully bash all those Twi-loving people (I don’t bash anyone, in the first place. At least not publicly/openly. I keep those things to myself and within my circle of friends. Haha. I try to be positive most of the time). Because honestly, I can’t find anything that bad to bash about it. I was once into it, as well, so who am I to judge all those people completely taken by Stephenie Meyer’s imaginary boy? I only get upset, or feel slightly offended whenever they compare it to the likes of Harry Potter and Lord of The Rings because even I know that it doesn’t deserve that high of an honor. Can we please leave Harry Potter out of this? Please?
Anyway, my point is (I do have one), a person can’t exactly be defined by the book that he or she is reading/has read/wants to read. Literature is a form of escapism. We read because we like leaving our own lives behind once in a while and go into strange new places with strange new people. So, if Forks is where the Twifans want to go, let them go. You don’t have to go with them, right? Respect each others’ choices, is what I’m saying. My sister loves the Twilight series (the books, not the movies – although, we both agree that “Breaking Dawn” is kind of soft porn-ish already) and I don’t hate her for it.
Okay, my question again is this: Was there a book before that had been as widely bashed as Twilight? Just out of curiosity.
(I wrote this the day before, but I wasn’t able to publish it online because we didn’t have internet!)
Today, I finished “A Convergence of Birds”, book #4 on my book list. I’m not going to lie about the fact that I did skip a few pieces (mostly poems) because I’m not really the poetic type. Some of the stories as well were kind of hard to digest and I tried real hard to get through each and every one of them. It can’t be helped, however, to just simply not be able to comprehend one or two stories if you’re a dimwit like me.
Out of all the ones I did read, my favorites are Barry Lopez’s “Emory Bear Hands’ Birds”, Robert Coover’s “The Grand Hotels” and Jonathan Safran Foer’s “If The Aging Magician Should Begin to Believe”. I don’t have any favorite poems because like I said, I’m really not much of poetry reader.
The three stories I mentioned really touched me in different, unusual ways. Especially the last one. I’ve never felt so profoundly sad and sympathetic after reading a short story. Somehow, I felt the pain that the magician was going through. It was as if I could see the sadness in his eyes. I felt sympathy for everything he lost – love, time, control. Does every aging man go through a phase like this – doubting his whole life’s purpose or, even worse, considering his impending death as some sort of salvation? It’s sad that a man of his age could feel so lonely and so unfulfilled. He weeps after every show. Somehow, I couldn’t get this off my mind. The image of an aging magician, alone in the world, who can’t even afford to get his tuxedo fixed let alone buy a new one.. If I were in the right frame of mind, I would have cried reading this. I’ve always had a soft spot for old people and this story nearly killed me.
“The Grand Hotels”, on the other hand, was really beautifully strange. Out of all the hotels he mentioned, I liked “The Grand Hotel Penny Arcade”. I guess, it’s because it’s the one I could picture the most in my head. Don’t get me wrong, all of them were so beautifully describe that you could just imagine every detail, even the strangest ones. On the other hand, “The Grand Hotel Nymphlight” is probably the one I wouldn’t visit.
I’d like to say more about all these wonderful stories, but it just isn’t any good when someone else is describing it to you and telling you which stories they hold most dear to them. I might have said too much about “If The Aging Magician Should Begin to Believe”, but I really couldn’t help it.
Of course, these stories would not have been possible if it weren’t for the wonderful and unique bird boxes of Joseph Cornell. His life is just as interesting and intriguing as his works of art and all these stories that they inspired.
I really feel a bit tongue-tied after just finishing this book a few minutes ago. I just had to write about it immediately, but I realized it’s not that good of an idea. I’m still pretty overwhelmed and quite affected.
*jumps up and down*
Okay, there you go. Off to book #5 – “The Lazarus Project” by Aleksandar Hemon.
My two-day trip to Tagaytay was a mixture of so many unexpected things. The most prominent one, no doubt, was the presence of two politicians and two wannabes who so kindly graced everyone with their plastic smiles and cringe-worthy public speeches. The most ridiculous of them all was the one who barely spoke and when she did, she hardly made any sense. First, she said that the night wasn’t for campaigning, but rather for entertainment. But then, she went on blabbing about her achievements that no one in the room really cared about (judging by the awkward silence throughout her self-gratifying speech) and then moving on to her history in politics. It was an utter borefest, honestly. Thank heavens she stopped after about 10-15 minutes (of my life that I’ll never ever get back).
The room lightened up when she prepared to sing a famous song of hers (okay, fine, she’s a singer). But, dear, you can’t sing your way to the senate (okay, another clue right there). She sang about three songs and even did a horrid duet with the other politician in the room who she kept referring to as “Mr. Vice President”. Seriously, you two, get real. The duet was a real disaster, in my humble opinion. “Mr. Vice President” didn’t really know the words to the song and looked positively dazed the whole time. It was a terrible and somewhat hilarious sight.
Anyway, funny politicians aside, the trip was a pleasant one. The sight was definitely amazing, but the weather was terrible during the day. It was extremely hot in some areas, while cold in some. At night, however, the weather was really cold and nice. It made walking along the hotel’s garden so relaxing and kind of soothing as well. And while I enjoyed my stay there and would definitely go back, I doubt I’d stay there for more than two days. There’s not much to see and do, really, apart from the usual souvenir shopping and the obligatory stop at Mushroom Burger.
By the way, I finished book # 3 (pictured above) today and have started on book # 4 which is A Convergence of Birds. “The Mysterious Benedict Society” deserves a separate entry and I will get to that later when I’m not so tired/lazy. I have this to say, however: I love Constance Contraire! I’m more than sure now that she’s my favorite character from the book. I know that its a series, but my priority is the book list right now. Maybe I should add book 2 & 3 to the list…
Check the book list, by the way, for some changes I made.
Much of today was spent playing a highly addictive game called “The Sims 3: World Adventures”. In fact, I even forgot to have lunch as I struggled to get my Sim engaged with a very picky Egyptian Sim. And yes, I feel slightly bad about this. The truth is that I have been trying to distract myself from thinking about tomorrow’s dreaded activity. Do you know the feeling of wanting something so bad that when it’s right in front of you, you kind of hesitate to grab it? It’s just so incredibly nerve-racking to be confronted with something like this. I really, truly want this. How can I not be nervous?
Yesterday, I attended a rather awful career briefing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were trying to shatter our dreams too early in the game. I know that we, as fresh graduates, are far more idealistic than you ancient, rotting corporate people. But, really? I think the reason why majority of the people in the briefing signed up for an interview is because they got scared to death rather than excited (which is what they were aiming for, they said). Who would get excited after hearing that all your dreams and aspirations in life won’t happen if you don’t work as a miserable F.C. (I refuse to say what it is) in their company? I have to admit, I did line up for an interview as well, but I backed out when it was my turn. Why did I line up? Why did I back out? First, I lined up because I got scared to let such a (in their own words) wonderful and amazing opportunity go. I know a lot of people are unemployed and I seriously thought about the what-ifs (there are a LOT). What if I don’t get a job in the field that I want? What if this is my only chance at an amazing life? Now you know just how brainwashed I was to be asking myself such absurd questions. Bottom line: That career briefing was anything but pleasant. So, I backed out. I refuse to let go of my real dreams that are way beyond monetary stability and material things – probably the only things that company could offer.
Oh, my seatmate and I couldn’t help but laugh when they said that we’d make our first million after our first year in their company. So I assume each and every staff in this room are millionaires, yes? Too funny. The briefing did not even mention what the job would entail. They just showed us their vacation pictures to lure us into working for them. Okay, I get it. You guys go abroad all the time. So what?
You guys, just because you weren’t able to make your dreams come true after college, doesn’t mean all of us, fresh graduates, wouldn’t as well. I’m sure we’re going to make bad decisions, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we should go for the safe option and work for your godforsaken company. And to think I even wore corporate clothes just to attend such crap. Le sigh. Lesson learned. Thank you very much.
The real world is such a scary place from where I’m sitting. Why was I so excited to take the plunge in the first place?
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