I'm moving on Thursday, and I still haven't posted about the house into which I'm moving. This is because I've just realized that I'm moving on Thursday. So far I have ten boxes packed, which contain all of my books that aren't either cookbooks or hiding in obscure corners of the house. Right now the people with the most pained expressions reading this are the ones who know me the best and have seen my house lately.
My philosophy for this move appears to be that if I can just get all of my books boxed up, all of the other requirements of survival will take care of themselves. Clothes? I'll just throw them in a bag or something. Important personal documents? There's probably someplace I can tuck them. Camping gear and my guitar and my sewing machine and my toolbox and my drawing supplies and the general detritus of my sixteen other periodic hobbies? Those might all fit in one box, right? CDs, now, those are probably pretty important.
I promised a reference to ointment, and it's coming. Occasionally I'll find that my reading material reflects my current situation without my conscious direction. It's true that I haven't had much to do with werewolves lately, so re-reading The Fifth Elephant probably isn't terribly topical. But I've been living somewhat precariously on dwindling finances for the last month while waiting for my financial aid refund, which is apparently too large and heavy to move quickly, to make its way into my bank account. Is it coincidence, therefore, that during this period I've found myself reading first Down and Out in Paris and London and then Angela's Ashes? Actually, I think it is. I was reminded of the former by reading a blog post about it, and reclaimed my copy of the latter from my sister's house over the weekend. They're both very snappy, cleverly written books, difficult to glance at without reading in full. And now as the balance of my checking account dips toward zero, I find myself grumbling under my breath about my seventeen-hour shifts washing dishes and cursing the River Shannon for giving everyone the consumption. It all seems entirely logical until someone reminds me that I work in a library and it's only a mildly gloomy Bay Area summer.
See, I said topical. Get it? Topical?
Posted by dianna at August 21, 2006 10:58 PMYour mention of Angela's Ashes in this entry proved very helpful to me, as it placed it in my mind just in time for me to reference it in a job interview the next day. Thanks!
How's that move going?
Posted by: Zach S. at August 24, 2006 01:41 PMIt sucks. I hate moving. I hate it with a passion. I hate packing and Christian's going to be here with his car to drive me up to Kingman in half an hour and I haven't had lunch yet and I'm not remotely ready. And I have something like ten boxes of books, two of clothes and five of art supplies. And I still have to pack up my camping gear and games and, I don't know, hats and cookbooks and computer peripherals and all of that other shit, and I have one box left and I don't even know where to start putting things in it. If I weren't listening to really satisfyingly angry music today would just be a total loss.
How in the world did you manage to work Angela's Ashes into a law firm interview? Or maybe a government interview; that one might make more sense. I'm agog to hear.
Posted by: Dianna at August 24, 2006 02:27 PMWe didn't really discuss the content of the book. I've got an interests section on my resume (to give interviewers something to ask about other than my first year of law school, my summer job, and my job at the library) and on it I included reading science fiction. This intervewer asked which authors I liked. We talked about it for a while, and he mentioned that he barely has time to read SF anymore, with all his work. Then he asked if I'd thought of writing any myself. I said that I'd considered it, and had looked at submission guidelines for some magazines, but could never find the time. The interviewer commisserated. To which I replied, "Ah, well. Maybe I'll be like Frank McCourt and write my Angela's Ashes when I'm in my sixties. But in space."
Posted by: Zach S. at August 24, 2006 04:17 PMAngela's Ashes in Space, with Lawyers, by Z. Alexander Sharpe, Esq.
Posted by: Zach S. at August 24, 2006 04:18 PM