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I got it in my skull a little after graduation that I'd up my vocabulary. I'd been feeling awful dull and unintelligent, having not read a book cover-to-cover since maybe August of 2005. Yeah, that's right.
See, I start these books and get about half way through. But no matter how involved I get in the stories, they don't finish reading themselves. I've read about half of the books I own. And I own about half of the books I read. You do the math.
I can only remember but a handful of books I've actually completed since my Roald Dahl days, when books went down like pumpkin pie. Only a few of those I've really enjoyed: To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Shampoo Planet, The Ice Storm, a few others.
I dunno, though I haven't had a single intelligent thought in months, I guess I'm a smart person. But I'm not great at reading. Maybe I'm just uninspired. I run out of gas quick.
But I got it in my skull a little after graduation that I'd up my vocabulary. I thought that maybe I'd try my hand at the GRE, whether or not I would ultimately attempt to get into grad school. I got this GRE book back in December. From Borders. And I opened up 6 months later and there were all these words what didn't make sense to me.
I thought, what better way to learn words than to read them in context? So I picked up one of the many unread books I had purchased for the many classes throughout the many years, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, and started reading. There was at least one word per sentence that I didn't understand. So I wrote them down, along with their definitions, in fine point Sharpie on a sheet of paper. After about 15 entries, I started writing only the words. After 7 word-only entries, I stopped completely. At this point I had stopped reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Does it count that I really liked what I had read?
And I've gotten about 30 pages into Lolita. But there are maybe 15 words per sentence that I don't understand. So I stopped doing that.
But today I completed The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I read half of in middle school. I swear to god, I wanted to stop reading, but I kept at it. So I did that. The film's first half and the novel's first half are very much alike. And they are both great. But it gets a little ridiculous in the film when Malkovich shows up and in the novel when they get to Magrathea.
I really have no worthwhile opinion about anything.
Except for that Superman Returns is fantastic.
Here's a link to an article called "Robots?" that I wrote for Nonsense when I wrote for Nonsense: this is that link I was talking about. I would have made a great editor.
I'm thinking about getting the picture of the robot I drew tattooed onto my bicep.
See, I start these books and get about half way through. But no matter how involved I get in the stories, they don't finish reading themselves. I've read about half of the books I own. And I own about half of the books I read. You do the math.
I can only remember but a handful of books I've actually completed since my Roald Dahl days, when books went down like pumpkin pie. Only a few of those I've really enjoyed: To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Shampoo Planet, The Ice Storm, a few others.
I dunno, though I haven't had a single intelligent thought in months, I guess I'm a smart person. But I'm not great at reading. Maybe I'm just uninspired. I run out of gas quick.
But I got it in my skull a little after graduation that I'd up my vocabulary. I thought that maybe I'd try my hand at the GRE, whether or not I would ultimately attempt to get into grad school. I got this GRE book back in December. From Borders. And I opened up 6 months later and there were all these words what didn't make sense to me.
I thought, what better way to learn words than to read them in context? So I picked up one of the many unread books I had purchased for the many classes throughout the many years, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, and started reading. There was at least one word per sentence that I didn't understand. So I wrote them down, along with their definitions, in fine point Sharpie on a sheet of paper. After about 15 entries, I started writing only the words. After 7 word-only entries, I stopped completely. At this point I had stopped reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Does it count that I really liked what I had read?
And I've gotten about 30 pages into Lolita. But there are maybe 15 words per sentence that I don't understand. So I stopped doing that.
But today I completed The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I read half of in middle school. I swear to god, I wanted to stop reading, but I kept at it. So I did that. The film's first half and the novel's first half are very much alike. And they are both great. But it gets a little ridiculous in the film when Malkovich shows up and in the novel when they get to Magrathea.
I really have no worthwhile opinion about anything.
Except for that Superman Returns is fantastic.
Here's a link to an article called "Robots?" that I wrote for Nonsense when I wrote for Nonsense: this is that link I was talking about. I would have made a great editor.
I'm thinking about getting the picture of the robot I drew tattooed onto my bicep.
