I'm currently reading Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister by Gregory Maguire. (For, like, the third time) It's kinda hard to recommend books to other people, though. However, this could simply be because no one I know actually reads.
I'm currently reading On A Pale Horse by Piers Anthony. It's book one in the Incarnations of Immortality series. It was recommended to me by a couple friends, but I can't seem to keep an interest in it.
Reading is one of my hobbies. Reading helps me escape the Hell that is my life and throws me into a world I can much better understand and see myself in. One way or another. For example, The Black Jewels Saga. I love those books so much. The characters are believaeable, flawed, relateable, and you can see people you know from your own life in them. I've often seen myself as Deje, the Red Moon House owner with a maternal instinct to boot. I'm no prostitute, but you gotta do what you gotta do to earn money, right? I've seen so many of my realy family in all of these characters at some point or another. And the story itself is compelling, dark, and an impossibility to pull your eyes from.
My point is, reading is my escape when I need it. Filling my imagination with things to help keep me sane in this fucked up world.
I just finished The Zombie Survival Guide (finally) by Max Brooks and The Deviant's Pocket Guide to the Outlandish Sexual Desires Barely Contained in Your Subconscious by Dennis DiClaudio. I'm now going to start The Lucifer Effect by Phillip Zimbaro and The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs.
1) the corrections by jonathan franzen 2) seven types of ambiguity by elliot perlman
sorry if i've recced those before but i don't read anymore. like ever.
part of a blog entry i started at school but never posted:
pumpkin pie in my stomach
orange cream floats through the clouds
all the corn-husk stand like soldiers
leaves fall to the hard ground
halloween goes boo!
as fresh air fills my aching lungs
r u serious?
that "poem" was on the chalkboard in english. an example of something for the freshmen classes. i hope it was a "don't do this" rather than "do this"…but it has a simile, so it's probably supposed to be good.
the class rings are $400 and everyone is arguing over which one to buy. what. the. fuck.
i've reached 100% of my $150 quota, namely by begging my catholic relatives for extra cash. i'm still going to hell for not being baptized in a catholic church/supporting gay rights. but apparently giving my school extra cash will make them feel better about it. wow. i'm so happy for them and their tolerant religion.
the girl next to me looks and acts like she's 4 years old. reading over my shoulder, actually.
more current news: blah blah blah presidential debate, blah blah blah english essay. mother is not so pleased with me right now for a variety of reasons. i think she wants her other daughter back.
twilight. don't laugh. i'm curious but geez this is not a fast read for me.
reading is important because it's like the only intellectual activity i do.
recommendations: please don't kill the freshman. (read if you liked perks of being a wallflower.) sloppy firsts and second helpings. (it kind of went downhill after that one.)
I love reading. I hated to learn it = ) but I loved it once I had it. Reading has always been my escape. When I was a little kid in elementary school, reading was where I could go that no one could bother me. It stayed that way through middle school, and high school, to now as a junior in college. I love reading. I rediscovered my love in 6th grade when I picked up OwlFlight by Mercedes Lackey. I'd had 'adult' books before but that book got me started in the wonderful world of fantasy and I haven't stepped out of that world since (to the consternation of many, including myself). = )
Sometimes I wonder if I read too much. I wish I was a little less socially challenged. Sometimes I wonder if all I'm really good for is reading.
I've been reading Fahrenheit 451 in my English class, and despite it being a required reading, I personally am enjoying it. I want to learn more about Montag and Clarisse. I wish I had a cool, hip book to read, but right now there's just good ole Ray Bradbury and me.
Well, and fanfiction. What would I do without H/G shippers during school hours? Learn?
So it's been like weeks since I've looked at it or even read it but I'm reading Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult. It's not that important to me, I don't really feel like telling you about what I'm reading, just read it yourself. I would recommend it to others though because it's a really good book.
In other news, while I was up all night because I couldn't sleep I started to think about something really interesting and important to me. I went down the list of people that have shaped me in some way, good or bad. I thought I'd offend people even though I won't put names because of drama, plus people will assume they know who it is, or that it's even them and so that's more drama that I don't want. So instead I wrote it down on a piece of paper and it was like 7 pages long when I used back and front, so like 4 pieces of paper... So I'm sorry for wasting trees or what ever. What I noticed is that I tend to draw people who are self destructive or destructive to me, who will betray me in some way, or just down right leave me and abandon me in my time of need. I've had friends that have used me and then tell me that I'm a terrible person, and I've had friends that disliked me for stupid things and tried to hinder me in some way. I've noticed that there are 4 people besides my family who haven't failed me ever, and I won't say who they are in consideration of others feelings. I just want to say to all you people who have impacted me in any way thank you, because without the way you treated me I wouldn't be the strong, independent, and intelligent person I am today. I've learned so many lessons and I now know what to do, I've found purpose in my life, and none of you will ever hurt me again. I will not hold grudges nor will I start drama by saying certain things, but if I feel I'd like to let it out here I might just. You can assume and be angry with me or you can choose not click on the link and be seen through my eyes, the way I think you are and might always be. Right now I have too much homework and things around the house that I need to do that I don't really feel up to it. Plus, I'm on vicodin and because I'm in a lot of pain. So maybe another time when I'm feeling up to a novel. Until then, you people of my past can think about the memories we've had and what you think of them, or you can ignore them and push them away, it's your choice and I no longer care. Because most of you are nothing to me and will never ever be something to me ever again. You've done your damage and I'm still here, what do you think about that now? I'm done now, that's just my rant for the day.