Archives

The PhiLLer
That's Just Insipid!
The Cocktail Sermons

 
A Motivation for Bookishness

First, let me just forewarn you: Do not be fooled by this title. It comes in the wake of the completion of a (hopefully passing) prelim examination. Post exam, C. and myself went out for dinner and had a couple of drinks. More than anything, I was tired tired and was afraid to order the "Low-fat Chicken basil pasta" thingy. Why was I afraid of such matters? It all stems from my growing obsession with single serve pudding. Illogical -- of course! Any less true? Not in the slightest. During the prelim process, other than opting to bag my lunch (thoughts here spring to growing up and my mom drawing smiley faces on the bag of lunch, usually with hair and hands, as well as displaying my name in colored magic marker), I got into packing pudding. It's C's fault, and really, it stems from her sister's snacking habits. (note: the sister has small children.) I thought it sounded like a good idea, so I gave it a go -- and discovering that I like vanilla pudding better than chocolate pudding, the obsession began. As the path of least resistance to cooking or making elaborate snakies, pudding was easy. During the writing of my exam (day 2) I think I ate 3 pudding cups -- one for breakfast, one after my pseudo-lunch of a sandwich, and one around 6pm. Granted, this pudding is delicious and fat free. But, how does one order a fat free chicken dinner after such consumption? I was afraid to start that kind of a pattern. Low-er fat I'm okay with, but fat free? It chills the bones. As I write this, I have backed off of the pudding for a while, having eaten my last remaining pudding cup yesterday. (other food obsessions: frozen fruit bars (strawberry) sometimes in quantities of 2 a day, bananas, slightly green (I wore this out in the dining hall in college).)

So you're still wondering what the hell this has to do with books or bookishness, right? Not much, but it's related to the ending of a prelim. What do you do with yourself after you've studied for 12 days for an exam, roughly from 9am-7pm, and then spent 36 hours papering about the question you've rolled? Pretty much anything you want. But what do you want to do after that? C. wanted to turn in the exam at 9.30, and I haggled her into 10am. I went to bed at 2.30, and the eyeballs popped open at 8am. So what do you do? Pay your rent, enjoy delicious Indian food buffet (complete with chicken tikka masala - my favorite!!! and definitely a food obsession), go see Batman Begins because you live in Nashville and it's 97 degrees or something plus humidity - go shopping, pick up a few items - go home, watch Jeopardy! and sort of fall asleep even though Jeopardy! is one of the few shows you watch on a regular basis and have been markedly unable to watch during the prelim process - wake up, buy beads at the craft store that is now up the street from me, and then return to B., my old place of occuption, most likely to purchase the latest Nick Hornby book. You actually want to read more after reading for days?! while you have attempted (somewhat successfully) to do so with contact lenses in your eyes? (*there are new glasses and new contacts -- I may buy a supply of the latter, but only wear them occasionally). It's different reading, it's fun, it's light, and nice as a break. During the middle of the exam, I'd picked up Hornby's book The Polysyllabic Spree on a whim for some light night reading (I never read before bed, but hey why not start now?) -- a book about the books we buy and the books we (sometimes) read. There were several parts that were laugh out loud funny, and I've got some recommendations for books to read or at least browse about for in the future. As I show up at B., I spot one of my old managers "Three Strands" is his Native American name, handily because of his rad combover. (Note: I sometimes see him at Indian buffet reading what I fancy to be the New York Times but may well be USA Today or the Tennesseean. We do not speak, and I'm not sure either sees the other dining alone.) On the front table of hardcovers I spy Chuck Klosterman's latest, which I thought had a laydown date in July. I pick it up and start reading. I go upstairs and sit on a stool near Bill Clinton's autobiography (which has far more copies on the shelf than Hillary's -- and it makes me wonder which sells / has sold more and if the copies on shelf are deceiving). I read for about 20 pages without realizing that I've read 20 pages of a book I haven't intended to buy. I hardly ever buy hardback books. But if it's entertaining enough for me to get through 20 pages without realizing it, I figure it might be worth buying...besides, it will only be $10 cheaper in 6 months or a year from now when it's in paperback, and by then, I will have forgotten all my curiosity about his book about a roadtrip, death, and rock and roll. More, however, it's about Chuck and his women troubles, and a roadtrip, death, and rock and roll. I'm almost done with it, so it's entertaining, at least. Then I guess it's on to Hornby before I get back to my Kant paper.