Warning Label

Besides the fact that my English skills are swirling downward into an abyss of grammatical and syntactical chaos, life is good.

I just finished reading Stravaganza, by Mary Hoffman. It's the story of a young, English boy who is transported into a parallel world, a parallel Italy to be exact. Every night he visits a town similar to Venice in the 17th century by way of a Talisman. The kicker/twist is that the boy is dying of cancer in the real world. Although the plot was a bit transparent, it made for a fun read. Great description!

Now I've moved on to a different genre; it could be called "historical fiction." I'm reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini. I'm only about 25 pages deep but it seems to focus around a bastard child, a girl. Since it takes place in Afghanistan, I'm not holding my breath for the Happy Ending. This book falls into that "life is really hard for women" genre that seems to have swallowed my life lately. I recently finished Desert Flower, by Waris Dirie. It's her autobiographical tale of life as a nomad in Somalia. At the age of 14, she runs away from her family and an arranged marriage and, after much struggle, ends up in London as a clothing model. A very easy read but also very informative. The students have to be able to understand (mostly) what's going on so most of the books they read are simple but deep. Sort of like that Volvo commercial: boxy but safe. I enjoy it although my vocabulary doesn't.

Other than reading, my life focuses on my future life. I imagine that sounds a bit like the Ouroboros, the snake that's eating its' own tail: devour and recreate, the circular quality of life. That works for me because, in the beginning, I wanted to become a librarian. But that dream is fading with each new ipod, computer, larger jump driver, smaller laptop. Pretty soon, a librarian will watch over empty shelves. The job is changing - here today and gone tomorrow.

The trick is imagining myself in some other form of work. Work that will hopefully land me in a river of cash that I can use to build my own Beauty and the Beast worthy library. In the meantime, because my brain is mostly fried explaining the present perfect continuous tense, send me a note: where do you see me at work?