Books #42 & 43: A Room with a View and Carpe Jugulum

A Room with a View - E.M. Forster
Carpe Jugulum - Terry Pratchett

The downside to getting accustomed to waking up early and being able to get to work on time every day is, well, getting accustomed to it all the time. By that I mean I've fallen asleep before 10 PM the last two nights, and the night before that, I fell asleep on the couch during a date. (In my defense, we were watching Charlie Rose. I've learned not to expect non-stop excitement from dating a 40-year-old.) It's 10:03 right now and my eyelids feel heavy. What the freak.

This is all to say that I don't have the time or energy to write reviews for these books. In case I never get around to writing something for real, though, here are my one-sentence reviews of each:

Forster: I went in with low expectations, since it's a Classic, but it was surprisingly witty, and in a way that's actually fun to read. I liked that even initially unsympathetic characters get some humanizing, redemptive moments. Favorite character: Freddy.

Pratchett: Medium-level Pratchett. It's no Small Gods, but it's also not as sadly mediocre as The Color of Magic. Since it's about vampires and isn't completely lame, I think I'm contractually obligated to say the following: Screw Twilight, if you want real vampires, read Carpe Jugulum! It really is an interesting concept, though-the main vampires have conditioned themselves not to be affected by sunlight, garlic, lemons, etc. They even have holy symbol flashcards to immunize themselves, which the teacher inside of me loves. And Nanny Ogg! Love love love Nanny Ogg. Dirty old woman. She owns what I'm pretty confident is a pink penis candle, and can turn anything into a "That's what she said."

Those may contain more than one sentence apiece. Nobody ever accused me of being unseemingly good at math, especially not any of my four different Calculus I teachers.

Overheard In My Pants

"See, this is why I like you. Most girls would look at me and think I'm crazy, or an asshole, but you're like, hey, maybe I should rape my parents."

July 5K #3: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Díaz

I really liked it, despite what everyone mentions in every review of Oscar Wao, i.e., MAKE A FREAKING GLOSSARY, DIAZ! I found a website that annotated the book, which helped greatly when a) I was at home* and 2) my computer wasn't busy crashing.** Otherwise, I skipped over half the Spanish words and figured out the rest from context clues.

Unfortunate confluence of events: I was sitting on the subway, reading about Trujillo's culocracy***, when "Shake That Ass Bitch" started playing on my nonPod, and then the 10-year-old girl standing in front of me started wildly gyrating her hips out of nowhere. She kept going for a while, and I don't know if she could somehow hear my music but it was pretty much to the rhythm of the song, and I was fucking dying trying to avoid looking at her and hold in my laughter.

(Yeah yeah, these last two books probably "deserve" better "reviews," but it's 4 AM and I'm already late getting these up for the 5K. 3K for me. Oh, and the location rules: it's set in Dirty Jerz, where I spent a fun weekend punching a masochist, the DR, where I pretended to be from a few weeks ago at a party, and NY, where I actually live.)

*Considering I've only slept in my bed three times in the past week, this was not often.
**This also was not often. Freaking shit computer.
***Don't know what culocracy means? Now you know what it's like to read Díaz.

July 5K #2: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, by Mark Haddon

Apparently I prefer my detectives mentally challenged. Not surprising in retrospect.

(5K rule about setting: I've been to England, have read some Bryson travelogues, used to have a cute British boss, and was asked yesterday if I was Irish. I'm practically a UKer myself.)

July 5K #1: The Maltese Falcon, by Dashiell Hammett

(The rule for this 5K-that I set because I motherfucking WON April's race like the winner I am-is that each book has to be set somewhere you have or want to live(d)/visit(ed). I've lived in California, visited San Fran, and watched Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill Azkaban* intro many more times than is healthy.)

There is no good reason for me not to like The Maltese Falcon, aside from its offensive attitude towards women and homosexuals, that is. It's well-written and twisty and shit, and Sam Spade is pretty badass. Also, of course, it is the BEST DETECTIVE NOVEL EVER WRITTEN. I never got into it, though. After this and Orient Express, I'm starting to think detectivizin' in fiction simply does not do it for me. Even when I was younger, I wanted so hard to love my Nancy Drew books, and it took me years to admit to myself that I didn't. I kept on trying to enjoy it, kept chasing that dragon. Wait...

Since I'm not excited for writing about the book, here's a bunch of quotes that I had fun making dirty in my mind:

• [Spade's] eyes became narrow and sultry. "I don't like this. What are you sucking around for? Tell me, or get out and let me go to bed."
• She murmured, "Poor head," and stroked it in silence awhile.
• The boy said: "You bastard, get up and shoot it out if you've got the guts. I've taken all the riding from you I'm going to take."

There was a great exchange somewhere about two guys going all the way with other, but I lost the page number.

(I am most likely not going to finish this 5K, seeing as how I only finished my first book on the 5th day. I'm OK with that, for the following reasons: I am a champ at not only reading but also resting on my laurels; instead of reading like a nerd I spent my long weekend attending free outdoor concerts, having sex with old men, and not having threesomes. Again.)

*This was supposed to say Alcatraz. Goddamn, I want more Harry Potters...

Overheard in NY. And my pants.

Monday, in bed: Shit. That doesn't work if I miss it.*

*This isn't a true Overheard, since it was me overhearing myself. I was trying to be sexy. I failed. I also made another Socrates joke. I feel like I should make it a goal to incorporate Socrates in some way into every sexual encounter I have. It's a good goal to have, seeing as how it will apparently be achieved with no effort on my part. And you know how girls hate to exert any energy when they're naked. Lazy bitches.


Overheard in Facebook's NY Network:
[Boy with whom I went on two dates and kissed once]: GOD! I'm so FUCKING HAPPY! Relatively anyways.

His roommates, whom I'd met the previous night, "liked" it. Some girl asked what he was on about and he responded with "I don't want to be shouting it from the e-rooftops just yet... maybe over the chat thing? lol"

Man, this is going to be awkward when I lie and tell him things got serious with the (39-year-old) man from Monday...