Books

I have a problem. It manifests itself in the form of about 160 books that currently reside at my house that I have not read. (To be fair, some of these are not in physical form- I do own quite  a few e-books.)

My issue is that I cannot stop buying books. And, apparently, despite the fact that I read quite quickly, I buy them either at exactly the rate I read them, or I buy them too fast for me to keep up. This is a problem. Last year, I didn’t even read 160 books altogether. I would have to stop buying them for at least an entire year (the horror!) or read faster. Since I devote about two hours a day to reading as it is, I’m guessing reading faster isn’t going to happen.

One theory that I have come up with is that I treat books like people who lived through the Great Depression treated, well, everything. I wouldn’t say I “hoard” per se, but I definitely cannot pass up buying one if given the opportunity. In college I was perennially broke and had to get books on my limited budget, which generally meant used book sales and the Borders clearance rack. When I would happen along these fortuitous events in my life, I would stock up, because who knew when I was come across more cheap books in the future?

Apparently, three years after graduating from college and one steady salary later, I still can’t shake this mindset. I practically bought out the Borders near my house when they went out of business (they just kept dropping the prices!), I routinely check the clearance section in the Half Priced Books store, and I compulsively browse Amazon’s books under $5 section.

I have been trying to work on it. I manage to stay away from temptation (book stores) because now there are fewer, and I’ve stopped going on Amazon twenty times a day (I’ve cut it down to about ten times). But, as soon as I see a cheap book that I must have, there is no stopping me. And the pile gets a little bit bigger.

I’m a great writer. In my head.

So here’s the thing. Apparently I’m funny. I don’t really see it, but I guess that a lot of people do, because they tell me I’m funny, and they say I should write down what I say when I am talking. Except the problem is I talk too damn fast. This is also something that apparently makes me funny, and it is hard to translate onto paper (or, in this case, the internet). One person even said I should record myself. This is hard though, because I don’t plan out being funny. Some people can make other people laugh on purpose. This is a wonderful skill and I am incredibly jealous of these people. I am not one of those people. So if I were to carry around a tape recorder, it would inevitably be after I managed to monologue. This is a problem.

I bought some books today at Target (pronounced Tar-jay) that were written by funny ladies. Despite the fact that I still have over 100 books (even more than that but the number is embarrassing so I don’t like to acknowledge it) that I haven’t read, I bought three more books. I’m calling them “research” and hoping that maybe reading will help me figure out a) what to say or b) how to translate the spoken hilarious to the written hilarious. Because really, I’m not purposely trying to be funny, I just like to talk. That’s all. But I want to be funny. I guess that means I am trying a little. Not too much. Just a little.

My last blogging concern is that I will run out of things to say. Like now. I don’t know what to say about not knowing what to say, which is completely ridiculous and something I hate when people do on their blogs (not that I read many blogs, though I suppose I should start) so really, I think this is a wonderful first post. Boom. Done.