Ah reading, the ultimate slacker hobby that also gives one a smug feeling of being somewhat intellectual and much better than those movie, popcorn chowing, "buffs".
I've been trying to remember a name of a book from my childhood. It was about a steam powered shovel, a little crafty googling came up with its number
Mike Mulligans Steam Shovel. And of course while browsing my other favourite childhood book My cat likes to hide in boxes. There are about four books that stick out from my childhood. After that I dont remember much of what I read till I was a teenager.
Lately I've had trouble finding anything good to read. I blame Robin Hobb entirely. Damn assassin series ruined me for all other books. Last two books I bought from Borders "Hidden Talent" shelf left me cold and with no real desire to finish either of them. In order to avoid the pile of unfinished books on my beside table, I will drag my eyes over the remaining insipid chapters and enjoy barely drawn characters (whom I care little about) doing almost arbitrary tasks which seem irrelevant.
Last good book I read was The Lies of Locke Lamora. Damn thing was on that Hidden talent shelf too, How easily I was fooled into parting with good money to buy two mediocre at best paperbacks.
So I gave in and paid my $30 library fine. Borrowed an unreadable amount of books considering my lifestyle and am hoping against odds to find something good.
So far I've read "Affluenza" - summary - we are all unhappy and distressed because we can't be rich and famous. And if we are rich and famous we are unhappy because we are not rich and famous enough.
I guess its true, I'm pretty distressed over my lack of new car buyingness. I don't want a loan to buy a car but trying to exercise my limited purchase power has been grating on my nerves. I thought it was a buyers market. So much for a recession. And my negotiating skills are crap. Sigh.