June 21st, 2008

summer reading

I *Think* I Started Out with a Point. I Don't Know Where It Went, Though.

I'm at the stage in the annual project I'm doing for work where the panic and the absent-mindedness have come together in an intriguing sort of fashion. I need to sleep so very badly, but take hours to get to that state. I need to remember 20 things, but can only recall 15. I need 100 things to have happened already, but must be satisfied that only 35 are done. It's like putting together a 1000 piece puzzle where you get the corners as a head start, then the other 990 pieces have to come together perfectly and simultaneously and on a very tight deadline.

One of the results of this is that my brain has decided it can't take in any new information. For a week or so now I've been able to re-read books, but not crack open any new ones. I'm completely incapable of taking in even the headlines of a newspaper. The thought of reading a book that's new to me is like the thought of tackling Everest.

This morning I reached an all-time low and picked up a book by Fabio (yes, Fabio) that I bought as a joke a few months back and - I don't know why - read at the time.

I picked it up off the messy pile of books on my bedroom floor that needs to be sorted into throw away (donating books like them and foisting them off onto some unsuspecting person is too cruel to contemplate), give away, and put away piles. I looked at Fabio's smug grin (yes, he is on the cover of a book he "wrote") and I thought, "Was this book really that bad?", then chose a spot mid-way in and started reading. There's something about reading a bad book - even one as deliciously bad as this one is - that's far, far worse than watching a bad movie. My husband and I were talking about that phenomenon the other day: how a movie will come on tv that's not even good, yet you find yourself watching it. Then you'll come across it again a short time later and you'll be damned if you don't find yourself watching at least 15 minutes of it before you come to your senses and change the channel. About 20 minutes into skimming this book, I realized I had started out skimming sentences, had quickly moved to skimming paragraphs, then whole pages were flying by with just the barest impression of words making it to my mind. So yes, it really was *that bad*. It features a good twin/bad twin-which-one-really-died plot line and had the feeling of how a kid tells a story when things get more and more far-fetched and untenable, but he's not done with the story yet so he's going to make it work one way or another no matter how illogical the human behavior becomes. The "yes, that could so have happened because [insert off-the-wall motivation here]" phenomenon.

Since it took about 20 minutes to confirm to myself that it was as bad as I remembered, instead of 20 seconds like one would probably expect under normal circumstances, I could only conclude that I've half lost my mind.

I did win at Monopoly tonight, though, so that's something. Wait, did I say I won? That doesn't do it justice...I killed at Monopoly tonight. When the game was over, I owned all but 1 piece of property plus had about $10,000 in Monopoly cash left over. It was the most successful game of Monopoly I've ever played.

I don't know what lesson can be learned here, really, except that apparently it doesn't take as much in the brain-pan as one would imagine to succeed materialistically. An incredible portion of winning that game was due to luck and timing. Hmmm...finally, an explanation for Paris Hilton. I also don't know what lesson can be learned from the fact that it took Fabio to lead to some sort of explanation for Paris Hilton, though I must say it does make a weird kind of sense, doesn't it?