Thursday, February 01, 2007

Reading, A Sport.

I am a reading junkie. You'd never know this based on the sad state of my 2007 reading list thus far, but truly....I am a reading junkie. I have never been able to understand people who say that they don't like to read. It must be my mission in life to save these people because a) I married one, and b) I became a reading teacher. Destiny.

This topic popped into my head today when I was talking to my mom about this very mystery, and I suddenly remembered being fairly young and without a strong concept of crime and punishment. I somehow believed that you could mess up just a little bit and find yourself in jail. In the pokey. The slammer. This was most likely around the same time that I was convinced - CONVINCED - that my house would definitely burn down, it was only a matter of time, but I digress. Back to the pokey. So there I was, eight years old, picturing myself in the pokey, when one day I found out that though you aren't allowed to have anything that could be used as a weapon in jail, you were allowed books. That's when I knew everything would be okay. I could handle a few years in the slammer, as long as I could read. Then I relaxed. Jail didn't sound half bad.

Life without books would be extraordinarily depressing for me. I actually start to panic a little if I get down to just one or two books in my "waiting to read" pile. I start niccin' for a little Amazon used book action and my mouse driving finger gets a little twitchy. I was the child who rendered herself legally blind reading by the flashlight after I was put to bed. The child who could effortlessly read in the car for ten hour trips with nary a hint of motion sickness. The child who is still quoted twenty years later for her belligerent statement, "I don't watch TV. I read" to her heathen sister who had the audacity not to care for the literary sport.

I read everything. Yesterday, I read the back of the Premium Cracker box while I ate soup. I've read the Cold Tips on the bottom of the Kleenex box. When I was little and didn't have contacts, I'd hold the shampoo bottle all the way up to my face so I could read the words on the bottle. (Rinse, lather, and repeat as needed were the obvious words, but I also read the descriptions of the scent and its enticing properties.) I've even been known to read Stuff magazine in the bathroom if I forget a book and I've finished my Glamour. I'm not recommending the reading of Stuff magazine, as it's full of deplorable content and the second string girls to Maxim, but it's still words on a page and that's all I need to get my fix.

The point of all this is that I am going insane not being able to read very much. This baby-raising business is seriously full time. And my TV/TiVo habits are reaching some scary levels. I have somehow become really, genuinely interested in the lives of the ladies on The View. I have developed an unhealthy interest in watching all of the episodes of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. For real. I'm not even going to talk about all of the MTV programming I am neck deep into. It's shameful and embarrassing.

So, this is my confession. It's making me crazy, but I've only read two books in the month of January. And one of them was half for work. I enjoyed it, but I was reading it for school. And it was a kids' book. Oh, the shame. I'm going to find a way to pick up the pace. I read forty-some-odd books in 2006, surely I can top that in '07. Do you hear my spirit! Read on, nerd friends! Join me in my quest! Or at least show me some support. I think I can, I think I can.....

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