What I think about when I think about...

I made my mark today. Part of me wanted to hang out in the small community centre for a little while longer, if only to have a better idea of the kind of people who live in my neighbourhood. But since they weren't serving wine or beer or tea, I decided to take a walk through the city and found myself at Chapters.

I picked up a collection of books and found a quiet corner and a comfortable chair. I wanted to read a sampling of stories, and I started with The Great Gatsby, a book I read in high school and wanted to revisit because of its connection to The Tourists, which is the last book I read (the author wrote in a similar style, whereby the narrator gives us an inside look into the lives of much more interesting people). After reading the first chapter I put the book down, thinking I may as well pick it up at a used bookstore one day.

Since I've read High Fidelity, About a Boy, How to Be Good and A Long Way Down (three of which I enjoyed), I picked up Slam and Songbook (or 31 Songs). The former was written from the perspective of a teenage boy who spoke to Tony Hawk, and I just couldn't relate to the character, nor the writing, which was supposed to be amusing but it didn't do it for me. As for Songbook, either I wasn't in the mood to read short essays about music, or I didn't care to read what Hornby had to say (don't tell him I said so, OK?).

Next up was Naked Lunch. By the second page I was laughing out loud, and after reading the first of 17 short stories, I put it in my "to purchase" pile.

And then I moved on to a funny female: Sloane Crosley. I just love the cover design and title of the book: I Was Told There'd Be Cake. It's another collection of short stories, and I found it fairly easy to relate to her, since she's similar in age with similar parts (this sounds so weird but I'm not hitting the backspace key tonight, save for just then when I accidentally typed "tonihgt"). She had some interesting and funny ideas I would have wanted to read aloud to the person sitting next to me had I known him. But Crosley is not as funny as Sedaris, so while I read two stories she joined the Hornby-dominated pile. I will, however, likely read a couple more on my next trip.

And the last book to sample was Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. He made me laugh within the first paragraph (but I already knew this from the first time I leafed through it), and I finished the first chapter. I've only read two of his novels, and while some of his ideas are bizarre, he has such an interesting way of thinking and is so great at writing the most perfect of sentences that you just want to put in your pocket so you can pull them out on a lonely and confusing kind of day. A couple of my favourite parts included his piece about how he prefers running to team sports, since he has no desire to win or lose in a competitive way; he only wants to meet the goals he sets for himself. It seems like such a simple, decent and worthwhile way to approach life. And the other idea that stood out? His bit about alone time, and how it's something that doesn't bother him in the least because he truly enjoys time on his own.

This is my longest post to date, but while I wait for my bath water to run (it's my favourite thing to do in October, so far), here are a few things that caught my eye today:

A real, passionate kiss between two people before they had to part. The scene lasted for a full three minutes while I waited for the streetcar. I vaguely remembered what it felt like to think about missing a person so much.

A real, beautiful home that is merely one block north of my modest apartment. Three stories high, with floor-to-ceiling windows that tease passers-by with what look to be wonderful pieces of art covering much of the lightly coloured walls.

A real, shirtless man eating dinner in front of his television. He surprised me, though probably much less than I'd surprise him if we happened to catch eyes, because I was only glancing at the street's scenery when I noticed the blinds to his ground-level condo were open for all completely innocent pedestrians to see.

And that's all for tonight.

xo

lori