I could never rescue you/ All you ever wanted/ But I could never rescue you/ No matter how I tried

Since I've not been reading as much as I should lately (#storyof2015 #failingatlife), here's a some random thoughts on another topic.

First, I should preface this story by explaining that my brother Josh and I are not time travelers from the future post-zombie apocalypse world, nor did we grow up in a survivalist cult. I really can't explain why we both have this same quirk.

But, for whatever reason, Josh and I both take an oddly post-apocalyptic/under siege approach to our daily lives (Josh collects machetes). This worked well when we lived together, since my apartment is made for this kind of thing. My father describes it as favela chic, and passersby tend to assume the place is abandoned (it's also dirt cheap, huge, and in an amazing DC neighborhood that lets me walk to work).

While living together, Josh put up tinfoil covered cardboard pieces to block out the sun using dowels, we made a similar contraption to block an odd crawl space off, cut up old shirts to use as dishrags (and stock-piled these shirts, I know other people do this but we took it to a new level), attempted to use only the clean trashbags that our laundry came back in and not buy any, had minimal furniture, and made makeshift plumbing fixtures to address some (serious?) issues there. Duct tape is our friend.

Now, I live with Drew, and I'm coming to realize that Josh and I may not be normal. Whenever Drew wants to call a plumber (for chronic issues I barely notice anymore), my first reaction is to see what Josh thinks. This is because I know he'll back me up. Our motto was "never let a stranger or casual acquaintance or friend in the apartment." Drew, being less off kilter, has probably stopped trusting either of us on this sort of thing.

Part of it, for me, is that I'm fascinated by how we adapt and can come to see anything as normal. For example, after one year with my iPhone the internet stopped working unless I was on wifi, though I have a data plan. However, if I make a call out it will briefly let me access the internet. So, I just make calls out all the time (to 611, not to real people), and I've been doing that for a year and a half, the majority of the time I've owned the phone. I've stopped noticing that I do that. Isn't that amazing? At first it was so annoying! Now it's still annoying, but I've come to almost believe that's what it takes to get online with your phone. Whenever I get a new phone, I'll spend the first few months making unnecessary calls out and feeling amazed. Then, I'll get totally used to it. Brains are so weird

Now, Josh and I aren't exactly the same. He would not put up with this phone thing for this long, I don't think, and I'm not living in a supply closet on a futon on the ground. However, a similar instinct/preference runs through us. Combined with my affinity for art deco, this led to a really odd apartment when we lived together.

No one can give you courage/ No one can thicken your skin

Some mistakes are more forgivable than others, I suppose, and in the scheme of things, this is a minor one. But, anyway, I read my 666th list book. I was planning to be deliberate and intentional with this one, to pick something befitting of being the book of the beast, as it were.

But, instead, I just forgot all about that and read Diary of a Nobody for it, which in no way fits with book of the beast. It's also pretty boring, not really all that fun, and I'd say largely skip-able, unless you're into satirical novels of the late 19th century.

It's particularly irritating to me that I did this, since I'd actually been on a cult kick lately, similar to that one time where I read about 10 books about murder all in a row, except this time it's randomly a whole bunch of books about cults in various forms (Drop City, She, Super-Cannes, The Plumed Serpent, among others; it actually started to get weird, since I didn't set out to do this as a theme or anything; of these, I highly recommend Super-Cannes). Really, any of those would have been a better choice than Diary of a Nobody.

In other news, I've read 31 books this year and I AM FREAKING OUT. I mean, it's not totally and completely impossible that I'd get to 50 in the next seven weeks, but I think that we can all agree that it's pretty unlikely. GAH.

So goodbye until tomorrow/ Goodbye until my feet touch the floor/ And I will be waiting/ I will be waiting

DCPL Card Privilege Expires in 30 Days

Thus, ominously, read the email subject line. My first reaction, quite naturally, was to sort of panic a bit. What could I have possibly done to lose DCPL library privileges? Was this about the time I took advantage of their new "we don't fine you till your books are 30 days overdue" policy and kept a book nearly three weeks late? Surely not, though. That's their own policy after all. Or about the various times where I put a book on hold but just failed to make it to the library on time for it? Yes, that's obnoxious of me, but this, without warning, seems too extreme.

Eventually, I worked up the nerve to open it. "Our records indicate that your DC library card will expire in 30 days. Library card accounts expire every three years. To re-activate or renew your account simply visit any of the library's 26 locations and present picture ID and an official document with your current address such as a bill, lease, bank statement, or a driver's license (which would cover both picture and address requirements)."

All right, fine, that's not so bad. Still, it's annoying. Still, let's put it off for several weeks.

Over the course of those weeks, I began to dread the encounter. Of course my ID doesn't have my current address, so I had to find a utilities bill. But what if they reject it? To be safe, I brought a utilities bill, bank statement, and letter from my landlord with my address (rent adjustment notification).

As Drew can attest, I whined the whole walk to the library. Why? Why must I go through this? What if they reject all of my forms of ID? What will I do then???

 And then, I'll have to deal with the librarian! I always use the self-checkout. What if they yell at me for not updating my address in their system (which means that every time I put books on hold I have to change the default library to the one closer to my current location, yes I know that I could have changed it JUST ONCE rather than dealing with this hassle on the regular, no, I don't know what's wrong with me).

Finally, I go into the library, hand the librarian my card, ID, and utility bill, takes less than 5min. So anti-climatic.

ALSO! I definitely have had the library card for more than three years; nearly six, in fact, but not exactly, so what gives, DCPL?

All I could do was love you hard/ And let you go

It's time to celebrate! I finished Dance to the Music of Time. That's a very, very long book. The second longest on the list, in fact, clocking in at some 2944 pages. Google helpfully told me that the average book has ~250-300 words per page. Low-balling, that means I read about 736,000 words. Yowza. What strikes me as grossly unfair is that this tome is really 12 novels, or at the very least four (12 novellas clumped together in four novels). But does the list count it that way? Oh, no. Of course not. It counts it as just one.

So, how was it? Long, that's really the first word that comes to mind. Fortunately, it is highly readable and quite enjoyable. I wouldn't recommend binge reading it like I did, but I would recommend reading it, maybe slowly as you would a series of four novels and not as one novel that you just have to get through so your stats don't suffer anymore, dammit. If I have one critique, it's the absence of any really interesting female characters (yes, there is Pamela and yes, she is fun in a Carmen Sternwood way, but it take her forever to appear). However, if I were to make that a disqualifier I wouldn't read the majority of these books, so.....

Unlike In Search of Lost Time, I don't feel a strong need for a reward here (I'd link to my pieces on that tome, but I'm waaaaaay too lazy for that kind of digging), perhaps because it was a fun one. Though, I may be in Georgetown soon and I am a sucker for Baked and Wired cupcakes, and I say this as someone who isn't really a fan of cake. I want to marry these cupcakes and have their babies.