interesting titles are beyond me

It’s more than a week later, and my little bouquet of Spring continues to bloom and bring sunshine into a dreary winter day:

They still smell lovely, too.

I’ve been working on handmade storybooks for Thumbelina’s birthday, with herself as the adventuresome heroine. Despite my love of doodling, I don’t kid myself. So, I’m using actual photographs of her and editing them to appear as though they possibly were drawn by hand. Sneaky, I know.

I was going to post some examples of how I’ve edited them, but my photo-editing software won’t export to the extent I’ve edited. All it does is send a softened version of what I concocted, which loses the whole purpose in sharing them to begin with - since it’s not how they look, printed. Maybe after the books are finished I’ll take a few pictures. Grr. It’s frustrating because I can print inside the software and they come out exactly as I see them on the screen, but once I export, much of it is lost. So annoying.

Unrelatedly, I’ve learned that Every Man Needs A Chair. Or so I’ve been informed. Topher reluctantly vented yesterday about how tired he is of waiting to paint the house and decorate to my specifications, because in the meantime he’s left with an empty floor and nowhere to sit. “The floor is not an acceptable alternative.” We do have a big recliner hanging out in the living room, but it’s not quite big enough for both of us to sit in there, especially with a toddler who wants to be included. So, tomorrow we are going to Nebraska Furniture Mart and he’s picking out A Chair to Call His Own. I’m exerting enormous effort in choosing to not mention all the expenses we have coming up in March and simply hope that the purchasing of his throne will magically remove the grumps from my normally cheerful husband… and meanwhile also hoping that he doesn’t eventually conclude that since we have a comfy recliner and a big, comfy chair for him - we don’t really need to buy a living room furniture set, right? Ugh. He’s a reasonable guy though and quite careful in heading off situations that create massive protests from me, so I don’t think that will happen. Thankfully.

Speaking of furniture, we don’t have any in the rec room either (as I was also reminded last night). Well, we have a futon but Thumbelina has determined it can fulfill her every gymnastic fantasy. As such, it’s being removed to the garage tonight and we’re ordering a foam-filled bag or sack. Since I haven’t decided which we’re ordering yet, I won’t link to it, but we can’t wait - they look so comfortable! And maybe I’ll get used to having somewhere to sit, too. See? I can be excited about unexpected expenses…

We’ve had three netflix movies hanging around here for weeks, so I told Topher that we HAVE to watch movies this weekend. Since it’s snowy and cold outside, hopefully we can actually do just that - at least tonight, since tomorrow is supposed to be warmer. Like, 38 degrees! Yay.

(Phone update: Sprint said to mail my drowned phone into them and they’ll send me another one for $50. Gosh how generous. We’ve only been paying $10/month in insurance fees, which… I mistakenly thought meant we’re paying for the possible replacement ahead of time and insuring we’re covered in case of accident or loss. No. The insurance is just for a discount on the phone price and alleviates having to re-sign a contract. Which, yes, is a blessing. Because I’m totally going to AT&T next year! I hear that even though THEY don’t have an AT&T campus where we’re located, one can actually use their service and not drop phone calls multiple times daily. Gee, I can’t imagine!)

books

I’m bizarre about books. If I had endless amounts of money, my dream home would have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in every room. I would cart home endless cloth sacks of books every week from a quaint but perfectly diverse and well-stocked local bookstore, preferably owned by a charming middle-aged couple, each of whom would be old enough to recommend books from their generation but young enough to appreciate new writers. Instead of debating whether or not a book is worth purchasing, due to probably being finished with it in only an afternoon, I would buy every book that captured my whim and not waste the effort of thinking twice about it. (I always feel like it’s such a squander when I buy a book and I’m so entranced that I don’t put it down until it’s finished - but only a mere few hours have passed. I never want a good book to end, and as the pages dwindle I tend to read more slowly and find reasons to put it down, because I want the story to go on and on forever. I’ve actually stood in bookstores and read entire books standing up because there aren’t any chairs to sit upon and I get too wrapped up in reading to notice the time passing.)

I develop a mini-obsession with the author of any book that particularly fascinates me. I begin to wonder what sort of person is behind the composition, especially if it’s a memoir or potentially semi-autobiographical. One of my all-time favorite books is “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius,” by Dave Eggers. He chronicles the struggle to raise his little brother, named Topher, after both of his parents die unexpectedly and within five weeks of each other. His sense of humor is outrageously funny but unbearably sad. Shortly after I read it, I met my future husband - also named Topher - and I’m such a nerd that I swear his name was one thing that drew me to him initially. All because of my obsession with Dave Eggers, whom I still google probably every six months to this day. Stalker? Yes, yes I am. It’s not that I think he’s perfect, or even that interesting - I mostly think he’s compelling. And annoying. Very, very annoying. I was extremely irritated when Dave chose to self-publish his second book and thumb his nose at the industry. Given my penchant for googling, I was also irritated when he suddenly decided to stop giving interviews. Who does that? It just seems so strange to me, like the Hollywood celebrities who cry about being famous. Wasn’t the whole point of writing a memoir to allow people into a window of his life? (My husband points out that he probably stopped giving interviews because perhaps there are too many ‘fans’ out there like me.)

I also read books over and over again. Part of the problem with purchasing any brand-new book is that I know I’ll never sell it. Once I’m finished, the book will sit either in a box or a bookshelf, neglected until a mood strikes and I suddenly want to page through it again. Topher tries to convert me whenever I go on a book-buying spree, making half-hearted suggestions like maybe I should e-bay anything I haven’t re-read in the last few years. But… I don’t want to get rid of my books. I want to keep them! Although I happily lend anything out to friends.

One of my rules for book-buying - which despite this ode to my love for books, doesn’t happen very much - is that I try not to buy hardcovers. I realize most book nerds are all about spending the $25.00 for a lovely hardback book, but not me. I like a book that can be lived-in and loved. I find it cumbersome to hold a big, weighty book and not be able to bend back the cover or even balance the book with one hand while I’m nursing or cooking or folding laundry or any of the other activities I do while reading. Whenever I see a book at a used bookstore that looks particularly battered, I gravitate towards it because I think it must mean that whoever owned this book previously really enjoyed it. Why else would it be so worn? My habit of disregarding the fresh newness of a book that has finally been released in paperback truly annoys my husband. He has the exact opposite approach, which is to keep it as pristine as possible. I swear he even reads his books half-opened so as to not crease the binding.

Today I spent the afternoon reading Curtis Sittenfeld’s second novel, “The Man of my Dreams.” Pay no attention to the title - it sounds cheesy and does zero justice to her writing, even though it fits the book itself. She wrote another of my favorite books, called “Prep,” so I eagerly awaited this novel to come out (in paperbook, finally) and be hopefully as captivating as her first. After I finished it, I went to computer, googled her name and came up with an article that recommends her top ten favorite books. Guess what my new reading list is? Yes, oh yes.