It’s that time of the year again. It’s really hard for me to be holly and/or jolly when it is a balmy 70ish degrees outside and the odor of all natural pine so pervades the air that I have a constant headache located in my sinus cavity. (I’m allergic to Christmas trees)
But Batbeard, and my Tia and my Mom and small children on the street and I think the stray cat outside all told me to get out of the house and get myself a treat. So I did my lesson plans, read my school email and tried not to flurb (I will tell that story later) at the requests for next week and then took myself out and went to Barnes and Noble to buy a new full price book I don’t need and maybe something else. (The something else turned out to be Godiva Cherry Cordials.)
I have a hard time finding things to read. I don’t like to invest huge amounts of money into new books when I’m not sure if I will like it. I’m still very disappointed by the bait and switch of The Shack. Now, don’t get me wrong, it is a good book. It has everything I like in it, except what I felt was a flimsy ending. I feel like I was lured into a rabbit hole with the promise of a thrilling crime novel, only to be pushed into a corner by religion. I am okay with the religion aspect of the book, but I didn’t appreciate being gunny sacked by it. I understand the point of the book is not the protagonists anger, but his struggle to forgive and move on. Still a heads up would have been nice.
I read really fast and I also listen to audiobooks and podcasts so I get a little confused trying to remember what I have and have not read/heard/had spoiled for me. I also don’t think James Patterson and Nicholas Sparks need my money and I hate, hate, hate the Great Gatsby. This means there were whole aisles I couldn’t go down.
I was really twitchy as I wended my way through the store. Especially since I am attired in my usual at home wear of sweatpants and t-shirt. My hair is combed and I’m wearing shoes so it’s not too bad, but for some reason when I am so attired, people can’t see me. This allows me eavesdrop and make snap judgements about people I will never see again. I was trying to decide if I wanted to spend the money on David Wong’s new book What the Hell did I just read?, because while I enjoy his writing, I don’t know if I want to make the commitment to a hardback book, when I heard the clomp of feet that are not used to high heels followed by the calm voice of a bookstore employ at Christmas time when the phone is ringing non-stop (this also contributed to the twitchiness). I turned and saw the baby giraffe like limbs of a Taylor Swiftian teen and her, I assume, boyfriend. They were looking for a book of poems. (I did not crane my neck to see what book this was, I kind of zoned out when I saw the brown knee length boots worn with white gauzy skirt.) After some debate, they decided they were going to try and get the book online. The girl said, “Ok, lets go, I don’t want to just hang here.”
I can not begin to describe how much I wanted to scream, “No, you wouldn’t want to actually pick up a book and read it.”
It was at that moment that I realized that I probably should just pick something and get out of the store.
What I picked: Baby Doll by Hollie Overton.