Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Book Jacket On or Off? I'm Going to Try Off.

A few weeks ago, Meridith borrowed my hardcover copy of Toast by Nigel Slater and removed the book jacket because she found it easier to read without it, without having to keep readjusting it to fit the book.

I actually haven't read a hardcover book in a while because I prefer paperback since it's lighter. And throughout the years, I just read hardcover books and adjusted the book jacket as necessary. The words were more important. But there have been some books lately that I've wanted to read right away, not waiting until the paperback edition, such as The GQ Candidate by Keli Goff, which I ordered a few days ago and am reading it right now.

Every time I open it up, though, there's the book jacket, slipping little by little and then I have to push it back to fit evenly with the covers. Three times today, and it got increasingly annoying. So, thinking of what Meridith did with Toast, I decided to try something new, and took off the book jacket, putting it in my room for now. Once I'm done reading, and before I put it in the Goodwill donation box (because though I like it so far, it won't have a spot in my permanent collection), I'll put the book jacket back on. And this is much nicer. I open the book and there's nothing to readjust. My only focus is the story. There's many other hardcover books to come, including Life Itself by Roger Ebert, so this will work perfectly for each.


Starlight by Ann Beattie. Read. This is what I aspire to in my future presidential history books:

This is coming out in November as this. I've pre-ordered it on Amazon:

Recurring Dream

This morning, I had the same dream I've had for the past few months, though some details change in each incarnation.

I was on a college campus, which this time had an arcade and a McDonald's, not a big one, but the logo was noticeable enough and though the ordering area was small, there was still enough going on in the back to show that this was a McDonald's important to the company, important enough to keep supplying it as if it was a location in the real world.

The other times I've had this dream, I've been on the roof of one of the buildings of the campus, I've climbed up a wide, glistening, marble staircase, I've walked through crowds of people, and I think I once caught a glimpse of a few theme park rides. My imagination goes anywhere.

This time, I was at this McDonald's, and it was already 11 a.m. with the rest-of-the-day menu on the display boards, but a few Egg McMuffins were still available, so I got two. And then I began thinking about the math class that was coming, the one in which the teacher had told me the previous session would be important to attend. A test? More notetaking for formulas that mattered nothing to me? I wasn't sure, but I also wondered if it would really matter if I was there. Was there a good grade to pursue this time? Probably not. Just another lecture to sit through.

The time for the beginning of the class came and went as I walked through the campus, going into the arcade, looking closely at what the claw machines had as prizes, seeing that the basketball game (where you throw basketballs into the hoop) was still there, and then walking out, walking a long way. To where, I don't know, but I determined that I didn't need to be in that math class today. It didn't affect me, and why should I spend my time not doing what I wanted to do?

This was not the only class I've ever skipped in these dreams. There was an English class, a science class, and probably a few others. And I'm never sure what it means. Is it related to some part of myself that I'm ignoring that I don't know that I'm ignoring? Is skipping these classes my way of reclaiming myself? I thought I've already done that with rediscovering my passion for reading, and considering what book I want to write next, and filling my life with what I love, including ambient music. I'm not sure what it could mean.