A year and a half ago in Baltimore – the night of the 2008 Major League Baseball All-Star Game, which I did not watch – I stood in front of the “classics” display in Barnes and Noble with a boy I was in love with, and decided I wasn’t well-read enough. He came to the same conclusion about himself around the same time. I ended up buying Slaughterhouse-Five in an attempt to remedy this, and he bought a book too, but I don’t remember what it was. I do remember singing a loud, ridiculous version of “Strawberry Fields Forever” with him later that night. But I never did read Slaughterhouse-Five.
Funny – two years before that I made a mad dash into the same Barnes and Noble to buy Come As You Are: The Story of Nirvana before the bus back to Latrobe left without me. (It turned out I hadn’t really needed to rush, though, because nobody could find Lu Wu.) I did read that one. And if I’d never read that one, about 80% of everything I’ve written in the last three and a half years – outside of school assignments – may never have been written. I guess if I ever go back to Baltimore, I'm sort of obligated to go back to the music section and say thanks.
mmmturtles. mmmpgh. i wish there was an emoticon that expressed "sad, reminiscent, tired smile"
ReplyDeleteI just tried to create one but it came out sort of like that thing Jon once referred to as "a catastrofuck." XD but yes, turtles. I was just listening to Nirvana and remembering how much I actually really like them. aah.
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