Suppose Supposing

I admit, I though that I was going to have the review done earlier this week.  Given that said reviewed book was only about 250 pages and I was already a good hundred pages in, I really meant to have it done earlier in the week.  But c'est la vie.  Life has never really decided it wanted to cooperate that much.  That would be more of the wishful thinking aspect of life I believe.  That and I honestly was slacking a little in my reading because I knew that I could so easily finish it.  Oh well, there is really nothing to be done about the matter now and I can very proudly say that I have finished it and the that the review on Raising the Curve is up and ready to read for any of you who might find yourselves to be interested in it.

But my life is more than just reading.  Or it should be, though sometimes I think it would be nice if I could just focus on my reading.  It would be a lot more relaxing I can guarantee you that.  But that isn't what it's supposed to be about.  There are other aspects of my life.  Like my depression.  It isn't something that I like to talk about a lot.  I'm too afraid people will think that I'm trying to get attention because of it or that I'm lying or something else like that.  Whatever the case is, its something that I generally try very hard to hide.

It's probably also the reason I like candy so much.

Now that might seem like a leap in logic to some of you.  But really, there is a logic there.  You see, sweets release endorphins.  They make you happy.  That's why people usually enjoy eating them.  I use that to self-medicate especially when things are getting bad or I'm afraid that they might.  It's really not the best way to go about things, but going to the doctor isn't always an option and I really have this bad habit of not liking to spend money on taking care of myself.  I don't like buying shoes.  I don't like paying for medicine.  It's a really bad pattern, a worse habit.  Of course if my friends were to try and do the same thing I'd probably yell at them and when they realize what I'm doing they get on me.

Turnabout is fair play I suppose.

But that's why I love my friends.  They are there for me and I am there for them.  We've created our own little family of sorts.  We're all a little broken, but its okay because it helps us to understand the others.  We can see past the flaws that trip them up and they can show us that some things are worth living for if things get too dark.  It's a very real kind of therapy and a very real kind of family unit.  Some people say that family is the most important thing and I agree.  But I also think that sometimes we can't only count the family that we are born with.

Families argue.  They bicker.  Sometimes they know each other well enough to not really know each other at all.  When it comes to biological family there are certain expectations and for someone like me, it feels like I have never and will never meet them.  Whether that is true or not is yet to be seen.  When it comes a family unit of friends, however, the expectations become different.  It is not about pleasing everyone else or trying to find a way to see that you matter in their eyes because you already know you do.  When you pick friends for your family...you pick and you choose and in doing so, you show someone just how much they are really worth.

Doing Without

Another month, another set of paychecks.  I've discovered that when it comes to my job, I do not work full time.  I am perfectly alright with that.  As it is I work about thirty hours a week when all is sad and done with early clock-ins and having to stay over to get this or that done or to cover whoever needs help at the register.  And that works out well for me.  Of course it still leaves me very poor, but I'm used to living as a poor person so that isn't really the matter.

However, it does make things interesting living from paycheck to paycheck.  You see, it presents me with this little problem.  That problem revolves around my phone.  My phone is one that is sans contract which is nice for these months when I somehow manage to forget the phone or simply have to put other things before it.  Of course it also means that I have to make due without my phone for the time being.  I find that to be both highly stressful and strangely liberating at the same time.  There is something utterly relieving about not having to worry about calling so-and-so or texting a person back by a particular time.

Of course it also makes you wonder if something is going to happen in the interim.  Will the world fll apart while people are essentially unable to reach me?  I do wonder this one some level, but that just seems silly.  They can still reach me.  I'm obviously still getting online so there are ways.  But we have this conception with phones that that is the only acceptable way to truly communicate with people.  Now not everyone suffers from this particular belief, but unfortunately I do know people who do and I find it limiting.  Yes, I think it's important to have a phone.  To be able to call and text and communicate in that most direct of manners, but at the same time, it shouldn't be what we depend upon.  We have the ability to write for a reason.

Alright, I just had to get that out.  I was thinking about it yesterday after work since I couldn't actually text anyone to pick me up from work.  I had to wait for someone at the store to get off so I could get a ride home.  Which wasn't bad.  I only had to wait for about two hours so it wasn't so bad.

So! Update for the week!  I am still working on Cloud Atlas.  I am about half way through at this point, but given I have the next two days off I should (hopefully) be able to finish it or the other book that I have started working on Raising the Curve.  Not a bad read so far, I'm still very early on, but it is definitely not my usual kind of read.  It's not often that I read non-fiction, but this one is turning out to be very well-written and gives a very interesting insight that I am enjoying.  I'll keep you updated as much as I can!  And for anyone interested in the writing aspect of my life, I am trying to resurrect my writing blog Writing is Life.  I hope that you all have a wonderful day and I'll see you later this week!

Girl's Gotta Do

So I have decided that I want to try and work on writing some book reviews.  As anyone who has read this blog has seen, there is one already up on the very popular book The Fault in our Stars by John Greene that I wrote after I finished reading the book last week.  At the moment, I am slowly (slowly because I keep slacking off and getting distracted) reading Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell as well as an Advanced Reader Copy (that is no longer advanced as the book did come out in April) The Inventor's Secret by Andrea Cremer.  I am hoping to have at least one of them done by the end of the week so that I can write up a review for it.  Regardless of if I do or not, I am hoping to get into the habit of writing at least one post a week with updates as well as any new little tidbits that come to mind.

In this case, I can actually give an update about my own writing.  I am very proud to say that one of my story ideas, an old series actually, has decided to start cooperating with me giving me a project that I can actively work on.  In this case, it's actually series that emerged from the very first year that I was a part of NaNoWriMo.  For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it stands for National Novel Writing Month.  It takes place every year in November.  Through the month, those taking part make a pledge to attempt to write 50,000 words.  It adds up to about 1,667 words a day.  It can be a lot of fun pulling together people from all over the world.  I am very proud to say that I have been taking part in since 2009.  And if I'll be honest, I love telling people about NaNoWriMo.  I talk about it, probably every chance I get.

We all have our passions.

I guess you could definitely say that books are my passion.  It doesn't matter if I am reading them or writing them.  I have loved books from the moment I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone all on my own.  It was the proudest moment of my life.  Or, at least, it was certainly one of them.  From that moment on, I could even fancy that I have a touch of an addiction.  That might be considered a bad thing by some people, but my way of figuring is that it is far healthier than something like alcohol or drugs though I've no doubt there are some who would disagree with me in that matter.  I accept that as a simple fact of life and that we should all agree to disagree.  I don't plan to change my opinion and I think it would be rude of me to try to force my opinion on any other person.  Debating them respectfully is another matter entirely however.  That kind of thing, now that is fun.

But for now, I think I have babbled quite enough for the night.  For now, I shall bid you all adieu and I hope to have a book review for you all by the end of the week.  Until then, I wish you all very well!

Glory of Reading

So, for those people who know me, they'll know that I love to read.  I have loved to read for years.  I actually didn't like reading when I was little.  They they started teaching us how to read in kindergarten, I had a lot of trouble with it. I can actually that in first grade I actually got a grasp on the whole concept, but that doesn't mean that I wanted any of it.  I was more happy just playing around with my brothers and friends or watching TV and movies.  I liked dreaming even.  No, my love of reading didn't come until about fourth or fifth grade.

My mother had started to read the Harry Potter books to use out loud.  She would read a chapter, sometimes two, a night.  It was our favorite part of the night honestly.  At least, I know it was for me.  We were on book three or four when I decided that I wanted to read the first one.  We had already gotten through it, but I wanted to reread it.  I had already enjoyed the book once after all, I was certain I would enjoy it again.  Three days later I had read my very first book.

To some people, the might not be a big deal, but to me it meant everything.  For the first time, reading wasn't a chore that I had to do for school.  It was something that I could take pleasure in.  A point of joy and pride.  And so, I found another book and another.  Sometimes they were silly nonsensical books.  Sometimes they were books that changed my perspective of how I read or thought or even wrote when I started probably a year later.

And I can't say that I remember a time in between.  A time when I had to learn to love reading.  The moment that I found pleasure in it, I was lost.  And it's progressively gotten worse depending on a person's opinion.  Honestly, I don't think that such a thing is really so bad.  There is something very liberating in reading.  It teaches us.  Every person takes something different away from each book.  Every book gives us a new perspective of the world.

Of course there are those people who say that they just don't like to read.  They aren't readers.

I've always found that hard to believe.  I rather like the saying: "Anyone who says they don't like to read hasn't read the right book."  I guess that's just the very biased opinion of a bookworm.  It's like with any hobby or great passion as the case very clearly is.  We just can't believe that other people can't love the things that we do as much as we do.  It simply seems utterly unfathomable to us.  So we came up with the wonderful phrase: "To each his own."

It's nice.  It's catchy.  It's an annoyed way to end an argument.  Even a preemptive way to end an argument.  Usually how I use it actually, far more preferable than actually going through the comment.  But I've gone off track.  I'm actually really good at that and I need to stop that kind of thing.

I was talking about reading.  The beauty that is reading.  Some would say that reading as much as I do is an anti-social behavior.  Likely half of my life is taken up by reading.  I have actually been admonished for it in the past.  Teachers were concerned I was not socializing enough and told I could not have any reading at school that was not school required for two weeks.  It was a failed experiment.  Some of us are not very good at socializing.  We're not built for it just as some are not very good at sports.  Some are not very good at math or science.  We all have different skills.

It's what our world is built of.  It is the way that we humans are.  I suppose that is where our phrase to each his own is based from.  As annoying as the phrase is, we also have to admit that not everyone can be the same.  And what a dull world it would be if we were.  We are not all meant to be the same.  And I think reading can show you that.  Reading is a way to escape true.  But it's also a way to study people.  Through books we see different perspectives, different motives, different worlds.  Nothing is ever the same.

Books preserve heritages.  They can be used to tell the truth or perpetuate a lie.  Books are simple.  No matter how complicated the plot.  No matter what the twists and turns, it is always the same.  You might be able to find something new with each reading, but you're not wondering if what you're reading is true or not.  Even non-fiction.  What you read each time is perspective.  A perspective forever preserved in time that you are being allowed to see in its entirety.

What could be more glorious than that?