new year, new life
So one of my New Year's resolutions is to reply to more of your comments. It's right on the top of the list ahead of Practice Typing and Read More Books, if by "Read More", I mean, "Read. At All.".
Ten years ago, I used to inhale books at a rate of, on average, six books every two weeks. I'd borrow eight from the library conveniently located down the street from here. On average one or two would be placed aside after a page or two, and the remaining six or seven would be read at every available minute. I was the dork extracting a novel from my purpose bought, pre fashionable oversized bag when the line at the post office exceeded three people ahead of me. I was the nerd in the corner seat of the sofa enjoying whatever delights the words on the page held for me while the rest of the world LIVED whatever delights the world held for them. I'd sit up late at night and, if the book had me DREAMING its plot, I'd wake early to read it too.
Occasionally I'd search my favorite authors on the shelves, but mostly I liked to browse the soft cover section. It was uncatalogued and sorted simply into genres. The romance over there, the thrillers here, that kind of thing, so I rarely had a selection of "like" books in my library bag, and my brain ws nourished with all sorts of literary genius and assorted trashy crap and it was AWESOME.
And then some crisis occurred with one of the major health funds in the state, and that health fund began streaming their clients to our workplace, and I began working up to eighty hours a week, and my lifelong reading habit went *kaboom*, and being your standard creature of habit, my new habit was formed and honed and that one was the one where I don't read AT ALL.
Then the internet occured and its reading style fits with my lack of consistency style and for years now I've been jumping from page to page and absorbing all kinds of knowledge that can mostly NOT be applied to my life but my god, the WEALTH of information out there. So. In. Love With That!!
But I miss the quietness of reading a book. I miss the ritual. I miss knowing who my favorite authors are, and I miss that part of myself because reading once defined at least a part of who I am.
So I resolve to read for ten minutes a day. That's all, and it's now January 5, and there's a book on my table that STILL hasn't been opened.
But it's ONLY January 5 and we've been pretty busy having fun as opposed to READING about having fun, so it's not yet a failure in the resolution stakes.
The Practice Typing thing goes without saying because I've been banging on about how I can't type for years. I bought a Mavis Beacon thingy a while back and thank GOD, finally loaded it and actually started DOING it late last year. Then that fucking bitch threw in NUMBERS and w. t. F, Mavis? I don't want to be all flashing over the keyboard vis a vis numbers. TOO HARD. So I've been circling the program since numbers became a part of my daily practice and haven't been practicing at all.
Again, not great. Not really a new year's resolution though, as I began doing this last year so it's not a total fail yet.
So the comments, replying too, resolution is where it's at. I want to be more connected, and I want YOU to feel more connected with me.
I've been drifting through life lately, and I know it's all Time And Shit that will make the real difference, but so will being proactive about not being such a freakin' lump of The Depressed, and a good - no, a GREAT place to start with being proactive about THAT is to be a part of life, and not apart from it.
(did you like that play on words? Literary genius, right there. Also, probably a direct quote from somewhere because NO WAY is something THAT obvious, original. ANYWAY)
Thing is, interestingly (OR NOT) enough, this entry is brought to you courtesy of Haloscan, who has been loading a big ol' page of Fuck All each time I try to open comments.
Weird, Universe, and kind of a little scary because apparently my dark mood is SO powerful, it's influencing the internet.
*da dum*
Ten years ago, I used to inhale books at a rate of, on average, six books every two weeks. I'd borrow eight from the library conveniently located down the street from here. On average one or two would be placed aside after a page or two, and the remaining six or seven would be read at every available minute. I was the dork extracting a novel from my purpose bought, pre fashionable oversized bag when the line at the post office exceeded three people ahead of me. I was the nerd in the corner seat of the sofa enjoying whatever delights the words on the page held for me while the rest of the world LIVED whatever delights the world held for them. I'd sit up late at night and, if the book had me DREAMING its plot, I'd wake early to read it too.
Occasionally I'd search my favorite authors on the shelves, but mostly I liked to browse the soft cover section. It was uncatalogued and sorted simply into genres. The romance over there, the thrillers here, that kind of thing, so I rarely had a selection of "like" books in my library bag, and my brain ws nourished with all sorts of literary genius and assorted trashy crap and it was AWESOME.
And then some crisis occurred with one of the major health funds in the state, and that health fund began streaming their clients to our workplace, and I began working up to eighty hours a week, and my lifelong reading habit went *kaboom*, and being your standard creature of habit, my new habit was formed and honed and that one was the one where I don't read AT ALL.
Then the internet occured and its reading style fits with my lack of consistency style and for years now I've been jumping from page to page and absorbing all kinds of knowledge that can mostly NOT be applied to my life but my god, the WEALTH of information out there. So. In. Love With That!!
But I miss the quietness of reading a book. I miss the ritual. I miss knowing who my favorite authors are, and I miss that part of myself because reading once defined at least a part of who I am.
So I resolve to read for ten minutes a day. That's all, and it's now January 5, and there's a book on my table that STILL hasn't been opened.
But it's ONLY January 5 and we've been pretty busy having fun as opposed to READING about having fun, so it's not yet a failure in the resolution stakes.
The Practice Typing thing goes without saying because I've been banging on about how I can't type for years. I bought a Mavis Beacon thingy a while back and thank GOD, finally loaded it and actually started DOING it late last year. Then that fucking bitch threw in NUMBERS and w. t. F, Mavis? I don't want to be all flashing over the keyboard vis a vis numbers. TOO HARD. So I've been circling the program since numbers became a part of my daily practice and haven't been practicing at all.
Again, not great. Not really a new year's resolution though, as I began doing this last year so it's not a total fail yet.
So the comments, replying too, resolution is where it's at. I want to be more connected, and I want YOU to feel more connected with me.
I've been drifting through life lately, and I know it's all Time And Shit that will make the real difference, but so will being proactive about not being such a freakin' lump of The Depressed, and a good - no, a GREAT place to start with being proactive about THAT is to be a part of life, and not apart from it.
(did you like that play on words? Literary genius, right there. Also, probably a direct quote from somewhere because NO WAY is something THAT obvious, original. ANYWAY)
Thing is, interestingly (OR NOT) enough, this entry is brought to you courtesy of Haloscan, who has been loading a big ol' page of Fuck All each time I try to open comments.
Weird, Universe, and kind of a little scary because apparently my dark mood is SO powerful, it's influencing the internet.
*da dum*
posted by aibee at 10:09
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