"No One Bothers You More Than Yourself"

Back to therapy. That's what I'm calling this. For now, the best way to describe this blog is therapeutic. My eyes are crying out for some sleepy time, but rest is out of the question when there's two weeks of school left, I recently started at my first job, and it's gloomy outside. Random side note: I have this theory about rainy weather. I get tired quicker when the weather is gloomy or it's rainy and wet and such. I love the rain, hate the tiredness. I'm so glad I'm complaining digitally because there's nothing that irks me more than whiny voices/tones. And then the one thing that ranks higher than even that on my "irk list" is being obviously hypocritical, which is what I am being right now (complaining about complaining, yeah I've gone THAT far). I have another theory: I call it the "No One Bothers You More Than Yourself" conundrum/axiom. It means that the things, behaviors, mannerisms, whatever you want to call them, that bother you the most are the ones you display within yourself. For instance, I absolutely hate it when the people sitting behind me in class tap their feet incessantly on the wire basket under my own because all I feel for the remainder of the period is their stupid feet- drumming causing a not-so-massaging vibration on my behind. Not. Fun. Yet, I tap my feet all the time, I kid you not.

So where was I going with this entry? I never remember once I start typing....

I literally just finished The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks. That's right people-who-have-been-keeping-up-with-my-endeavor-to-read-all-the-nicholas-sparks-books, I am soooooooooooo close to being finished! By the way, I don't really think I was supposed to hyphenate that whole sentence right there, I might be unconsciously obsessed with hyphens. Another problem for another time. Back to the sappy romantic novels: He came out with a new one recently so as the list gets smaller, it's also managed to grow at the same time. Literary genius right there. I believe it's called The Best of Me. I still have that one, Dear John, and the nonfiction book Three Weeks With My Brother. I'm putting off Dear John because (and I know it's not the same) I've watched the movie too many times and I'm pretty much getting sick of the plot. I know the book will be better than the movie, but that doesn't mean I have to look forward to it. I look forward only to the finishing of my task, of what I set out to do. I have no doubt that Nicholas Sparks will continue to write those romance novels that I can easily predict but somehow enjoy despite of all its cliches and uniformity. Love is love, man. And I LOVE LITERATURE! You can't tell me that that stuff isn't literature because it is. It just is.

It has taken me months to compile, edit, scratch out and then add stuff, categorize, the whole shabang...that is...my summer reading list. For pleasure that is. I always read for pleasure, but due to my enrollment in AP European History and AP English, I have required reading as well. Big deal, boo hoo. I will enjoy it somehow. Anyway, here's my reading list for the summer. Take a gander, smile, laugh, and accuse me of being crazy. All of those are to be expected. :)
(titles with an asterisk are the ones I'm reading for the second time)

The Alchemist*
Brian's Winter
The River
Dogsong
Brisingr**
The Invisible Wall
The Help
The Best of Me
Dear John
Three Weeks With My Brother
The Perks of Being A Wallflower
Wit & Wisdom of Mark Twain: A Book of Quotations
My Name Is Memory
Jane Eyre
Scarlet Pimpernel
Great Expectations
Shark Life
No. 1 Ladie's Detective Agency (finish the series)
To Kill A Mockingbird*
Mere Christianity*