Thursday, 19 February 2009


Jennie I have this problem. Well, I have several problems, but only one of them is pertinent to this week's topic. I have a book addiction. In a perfect world, I would be reading all the time. ALL THE TIME. This isn't so much, what's the word, REALISTIC, but it's my wish nonetheless. I would still want to be doing other things, but if I could read while doing them (and pay attention to both equally, of course), that'd be awesome. Awesome, I say.

My book addiction means I often find myself in a bookstore with an armful of books, even though I know I have a stack of unread books at home. I'm not allowed to go to the library anymore, because I have too many books at home I'm already not reading, and I don't get fined for those. I'm also not allowed to buy any more books at the bookstore until I've finished the books I have at home. This means I haven't really been going to the bookstore, because I'm incapable of entering a bookstore and NOT buying a book. That would be crazy.

You know when you go to the pet store? And all the puppies are staring at you from inside their tiny, sad little cages? And you think, "I'll just get one out to play with. I can't get a dog, though. I can't. But it's nice of me to play with the puppies, yes? Yes." And you play with the puppy for a while and you think, "I'm going to have to take this dog home now," and then you take the dog home and live happily ever after? That's like me and books at the bookstore. Although, you really shouldn't be buying your puppies from pet stores, but I understand the impulse. Pet stores are bad for puppies, but it's not the puppy's fault, so BY ALL MEANS, take the puppy home. DO IT. I mean, I try to buy all my books from used bookstores, but it doesn't always happen. Sometimes I find myself in a Borders and pay full price because those books deserve homes, too, ya know?

Where was I? OK. Yes. I'm not allowed to buy anymore books. But sometimes I don't want to read the books I have at home because I'm not in the mood for those books. You can't just read a book that will make you cry until you can't see the words on the page when you really want to read a book that will make your sides ache with laughter. It just wouldn't be right. So if I don't feel like reading my own books and I'm not allowed to buy any new books, that leaves me with one option: borrow them from other people. Or steal them, but I'm not really all about going to prison. Although. I'd probably have lots of time to read in prison. BUT I DIGRESS.

Back when I first started dating Joe, Heather Anne made me a comic book starter kit and IN SAID KIT, she included an issue of Owly. Owly is the cutest little owl you'll ever see in your life. See? Told you. Owly is totally adorable and sweet and BEST OF ALL, there are no words, just pictures, so you can blow through an issue in like 5.5 minutes. Or longer, if you're a slow looker. Anyway. A couple of weeks ago, Joe was getting a box of books together to sell and I was all, "HOLD ON LET ME LOOK AT THOSE," because getting rid of books makes my heart sad, even when they're not my books. I stole some books from the box and then Joe was all, "Hang on, I need to give you something else!" and he dug through a bookshelf to produce: an Owly book. A whole book! I thought it only fitting that my review of the book include no words (these words and all the other words I just spewed all over the place don't count), so, with Joe's help (meaning: he drew this), here is my (wordless) review of Owly:


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