On the reading of books.

I have never, never, never been a self-conscious reader.  I generally read what I want, enjoy it, and move on to the next book.  Lately, though, I have been a little self-conscious.  I am ashamed to admit that when people ask what I'm reading, and I have to 'fess up that I am enjoying the latest in the "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" series.  Not the manliest or most challenging read, but whatever; they're good.  But I cringe a little when I say it.  Why?  I honestly have no idea. 


Maybe I feel like I have an image as a smartypants to maintain.  While I do consider myself a fairly smart person, I've never had a problem making a grade-A fool out of myself.  Seriously.  Just ask any of my high school friends or anyone that knew me when I was a youth minister.  They will tell you that I seem to be lacking the part of my brain that defines shame and/or self-respect.


If that's the case, I may have over-corrected.  I am currently reading The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, and this was clearly a case of not knowing what I got myself into.  I know what it's about, I understand the allusion the title makes, and I know the historical importance of this work.  When KB brought me a copy, I noted its length (600 pages!) and figured it would take a while to get to the end.  Then, upon reading the title page, I realized that this was Parts I & II.  The rest of the book is contained in two more volumes.  I may have indeed bitten of more than I can chew from a strictly volumetric standpoint.


The bigger issue at play here is that I can only read so much at once because this book is not only dense, but it is intense.  People are getting arrested and killed left and right, and because of the (frankly, brilliant) way the author frames everything, you feel as though the NKVD is coming  for you (fun side note: the acronym for Russia's counterintel group was SMERSH.  Best, most fun name for a terrifying group of thugs and spies).  Seriously, after ten pages I am emotionally drained because of the investment the author elicits through his prose.

But I'm determined to finish this volume.  I have started too many books and left them aside because they were difficult reads (I see you waving, Yiddish Policemen's Union; settle down).  I'm so emotionally invested in this book, I feel as though I owe it to the people sent to the Gulag.  Perhaps not the most healthy way to get through a book, but I'll make an exception for this one.  So if you see me reading this tome and I look overly worried, concerned, or exhausted, maybe tell me to put the book down and take a few cleansing breaths. 

In Soviet Russia, books read YOU!!

Sea Legs.

First of all...geeze, what a slacker I am.  I had a post 75% complete, but it languished in development so long that it was no longer relevant.  When I say "in development", I mean I just never finished it.  But nevertheless, I press onward.

So we're almost three months into the Austin lifestyle, which as far as I can tell involves heretofore unknown but brutal allergies, tacos, and the presence of UT football.  I have no problem with the tacos.  Football,I'm uninterested in 85% of the time, and the sudden onset of allergies has been debilitating.  So.  Much.  Sneezing.  It's kind of ridiculous, and I feel like the "Before" segment in a Zyrtec commercial (Dear Zyrtec, I love your product, please give me an endorsement deal. Sincerely, Me).

KB and I are, however, figuring out how to make this work.  We're getting very good at maximizing our quality time together, have done some cool stuff already (specifically, this and this), and are making great friends with the folks in her class.  We've already had house guests and they were fantastic.  If you haven't come to stay in Austin with us, you should.  If you already have, come back anytime.  We like visitors.

It's funny how our outlook on a situation can change depending on the day or week.  Just a week and a half ago, I had started a post that was much more whiny and complain-y.  Now, having spent time with wonderful friends and family, I have the perspective needed to understand just how fortunate I am.  There's a trend on Facebook wherein people are having some sort of Thanksgiving "Advent calendar" and counting days until Thanksgiving by saying what they are Thankful for.  I dislike the way the Advent calendar has been co-opted, but if it gets people to put their lives in perspective, I'm all for it. 

So what am I thankful for?  KB, my family, my friends, and you, dear reader.  Chances are better than excellent that you fit into one or all of these categories.  My life is enriched from knowing you, and I know it will continue to be so enriched.  As we grow together in friendship and faith, I hope you know that I am thankful for you every day.  Especially if you have some Zyrtec on you.