Last week, my friend Kayla left me a comment asking this:

I want to know how you pick your books. Do you see them in a store with a fancy cover? Do you read of them in magazines or other blogs? Or are you following some sort of list?

Oooh, I do love questions. 

[Reading note: tangent approaching. Buckle in.]

Why? I think (besides the obvious assumption that perhaps I can be self-involved at times — who isn’t?) it’s that questions do several things for us.  For one, they show curiosity and interest in the questioner, which is a delightful trait in other people.  After high school I took essentially a “gap” year where I went to a program that espouses to build service, leadership and spiritual development.  Although I don’t think it really taught me what it intended, I got way more out of it than even I expected, mostly in the form of some of my favorite people EVER with whom I am still friends.  One of those friends is Kristin.  Someone asked me once what made her one of my favorite people ever, and I remember telling them this:

She’s the type of person who makes you feel as if you are the most interesting person in the room when she’s talking to you.

I think that comes from a place of genuine curiosity, as Kristin is obsessed with so many things in the most delightful way possible.  Part of how she makes others feel so interesting? She asks them questions, genuinely (or at least faking it really well) interested in what they have to say.

The other reasons I think we like questions about ourselves are related: they cause us to reflect and they allow us to be an expert for once.

I am not an expert, by any means.  When I was a kid — and, who am I kidding, still now as an adult — I was obsessed with the Olympics.  I mean, OBSESSED.  I would take out the TV Guide that I got out of the newspaper, since I felt bad about stealing the actual TV Guide magazine that my friend’s mom got each week, and pore over it to map out my Olympic-watching schedule.  I performed my interpretation of ice-skating routines in my socks behind the large, olive-colored recliner my dad sat in.  I practiced my flip-turns (while holding my nose, of course) at the pool.  I accompanied my stuffed animals on the Olympic podium in my room, awarding medals and waving to the crowd.

You would think that this obsession would mean that I was an athlete.

I was and am not.

What I really was enamored with, beyond the beauty and athleticism of olympic sports, was that these people were experts.  They were focused and dedicated enough to be the very best at something.

I never had that kind of dedication or focus to a singular thing.  I often longed for that particular sequence of DNA to show up magically in my blueprints.  At other times in my life, I even hated myself for liking too many things, as if that was a sign of weakness and unreliability.

I’ve grown up a little since then.  What was once a perceived weakness is now an asset to what I do.

But from this experience, I grew to love being asked questions about myself, because — for once — it was a subject I could speak about as an honest-to-god expert.  I am an expert on me, so ask away.  Pretty, pretty please. I (luckily) learned how to temper that (most of the time) by developing a genuine curiosity about other people, too, which saved me from becoming a pompous jerk at all times to everyone around me.  Thank God.

However, some things never change, because when my friend Kayla asked me her question recently in my comments, I immediately got real excited (comment + question = awesome).  The way to my heart is paved with a question mark, people.

[Reading note: Here's where we finally get back on track.  Geez...]

So, here is my answer:

(image linked of jessica hische’s book covers which I love.)

Good question! I find books a bunch of different ways.  Once I discovered that I could pay library fines online, I returned to the library after a long, shameful absence that came from my wanting to avoid the steely admonishment by the desk clerk when I paid my fines in person. (I will probably always have library book fines.  And crumbs in my purse.)  This return to the library helped open up more books to me, because I wasn’t worried if I’d regret buying them. Here’s how I’ve found the most recent books I’ve read this year:

1. The Internet Machine.

I follow a few different bloggers/tumblrs, some of whom are avid readers and talk about the books they’re reading.  I also check out the New York Times Bestseller list for some of the big titles right now.  Around this time of year, I’ll check out the end-of-year lists that are published to see a compendium of books I should possibly check out this year.  I’ll even do a google search like this to find lists, although I find this is the best way of finding a list of classics that might interest me.  [Jay-Z's Decoded and the Steve Jobs biography I started/finished last week came from a blogger and the NYTimes, respectively).

But, you often find books mentioned in an article not about books.  On my list right now is Born to Run, which I had seen on my friends Garrett & Courtney's bookshelf, but became interested after I read this article in the NY Times.

2. Magazines.

I read several different magainzes -- right now, Vanity Fair and Wired are at the top of the list -- and V.F. has a section called "Hot Type" that previews a bunch of different authors and books.  Sometimes one of them piques my interest, so I'll check it out.

3. The Bookstore.

Good design often gets me into a book.  When I wander around the bookstores, a good cover will pull me in, and good jacket writing can seal the deal.  I was sold on a book I read last month, Little Bee by Chris Cleave, for it's cover design -- although, I had heard about this book mentioned casually on a blog I follow a few months earlier.

4. My Online Book Club

A few friends and I have a very, very loose book club online at Goodreads (we're all in different parts of the country) where we suggest a book for the month, read it, and then post what we thought.  I LONG for a real-life book club with cocktails and food and more talk about the book and life in general, but I do not have similar taste in books as any of my friends, it seems, and nobody is all that interested.  One day, one day.  This is the closest we come, and I end up reading books that I wouldn't have chosen but are glad I read (see: Emma Donahue's Room, which was a book club selection).

5. My bookshelf.

Seriously, I own more books than I've read, which is ridiculous.  So, I either need to get rid of books (I do) or I need to start reading them (I do).  Or, more honestly, I need to finish books that I've started and then abandoned.  I have that nasty habit sometimes.  Some of my favorite authors live on my bookshelf, though, so I often will check to see if they have a new book coming out.  Chuck Klosterman's book The Visible Man came about that way, and so did Dave Eggers' book Zeitoun (which I finally read this year and was amazing) came from seeing other books they wrote on my shelf and then checking out books of theirs that I haven't read.

So, there's where I find books to read.  I like good books, but that means that I like a lot of different kinds of books.  I mix it up a lot.  In order to keep the pipeline filled, though, I found that I needed to log them somewhere that I can remember them when I'm ready to read something. If you can find a way to record what you read in the same place, that works great.  This online idea is kind of cool.  If you are into the journal thing, they have several book journals that are lovely for this sort of thing.  This is one I kind of like:

My sorry excuse for a system is a combination of putting newer books on hold and getting on the waiting list, sticky notes on my mac, and writing them in my spybook.

Also, forgetting wholeheartedly about it and then picking it up years later when you remember you had wanted to read it?  Works great too.

I also love to lend books, so if you're local (or don't mind shipping it back to me when you're done if you aren't), I'll send them your way, because I'm all old-fashioned, and don't read books on computers.  Everything else, sure.  But not books.

Happy reading...and if you want any suggestions or to ask me any other questions about the subjects on which I am an expert (read: me), ask away.

[Reading note: you made it.  Drinks for everyone.]

Update: I’m considering reading Moby-Dick next after reading an article about a book that someone wrote about it.  Anyone want to weigh in?  Epic idea, or just epically bad? Especially my English-y friends, I’m looking right at you.

{impresario}

i am currently reading my 16th book of the year, which is way more than i thought would actually happen:

i’m about about 1/5 of the way through this 600-page book, but already i find it compelling enough that i want to read all day.  however, it’s not compelling in the “bow at the altar of steve jobs” kind of way, or the “let’s backlash against the apple worshippers lamenting his death” kind of way either.  it’s an interesting piece of our cultural history, and leaves you wondering if you respect, like or admire steve jobs more or less than when you started the book.  in short, it’s provocative without being controversial.  malcolm gladwell writes much more eloquently about its merits here, in an article that is entirely worth your attention, even if you don’t agree.

either way, after 150ish pages, i just want to give Woz a big hug and sit and marvel at my computer and all it’s fancy fanciness that i take for granted.

i also want to take an electronics class.

{interior design}

at the end of every year, my business partner (read: husband) and i sometimes end up investing money in our business or retirement accounts for tax reasons.  i’d get into all the details, except that it makes my head explode.  suffice it to say, this year we may need to look at things that our business needs and spend money on them, which i’ve translated into “Why, yes, your home office needs a makeover.”  my first stop is to replace my perfectly adequate industrial, ugly office chair with this:

i mean, i’d rather own an actual eames chair (drool-o-rama), but i don’t have giraffe money (i.e. having money be of such no object that you could feasibly house, feed, and care for a giraffe, in addition to knowing how much that cost). one day.

{interrobang}

aside from its less-than-elegant visual appeal, i really wish this punctuation (a combination between the exclamation point and a question mark) caught on.  instead, we have the hyperbolic ?!?!?. so clunky.

{ice cream substitute}

this is TASTY.

i don’t even care if it’s cold outside.  like amy, i embrace the cold.  i fight cold with more cold.  and gelato.

you’ll want to try the raspberry.

{ill-advised}

drinking the free beer and eating the free chocolate chips they hand out this hotel.  i think the settlers in the colony are revolting, and by settlers, i mean fat, and by colony, i mean everywhere select parts on my body.

and i mean revolting in every sense of the word, verbal and adjectival.

no, wait, my feelings towards pranks are far stronger than that; i loathe pranks.  surprises? yes.  pranks, designed to make people look/feel stupid while you or everyone points and laughs?  i’ll pass.

i used to hate saying that i hate pranks, though, because two things occur: one, you seem like the girl with absolutely no sense of humor, the type of girl who wouldn’t enjoy ridiculous feel good movies or, say, jokes of any kind; and two, people who enjoy pranks or grew up on them feel judged and defensive.

i’ve seen it happen.

but then i realized that disliking pranks has nothing to do with my sense of humor (i love the aforementioned movies, btw) and that people i was spending time with either didn’t like pranks or had a mutual understanding with those who they pranked.  and everyone else we’re just not friends with anymore.

just kidding.

this has absolutely nothing to do with what i’m talking about today, except to say that nothing of the below is a joke, except for google’s prank of the day which is more of a fun surprise so i’ll allow it, benevolent blogmaster am i.  happy friday!

*      *      *      *      *

things charming me today:

this gorgeous renter’s wallpaper (wallpaper you can peel up easily).  we very nearly redid our home office in this before remembering that hey – we don’t make much money, and we could essentially decorate the office by stapling $1 bills to the wall and have it come out even by choosing this.  bummer for now, yes, but it is on sale at modcloth, so in the future i can definitely see making the investment.

google’s april fools prank.  if it’s not immediately obvious [read: if you are not complete design/typography nerds like the boy and i are], when you type in the font “helvetica” in google’s search engine, all results are displayed in the reviled “comic sans” font.

clever.

as maggie says, sometimes i want to kiss the internet on the mouth.

my antique owl cookie jar that i picked up last week at the antique mall for about fifteen clams.   he needs a little love (particularly in the eyeball arena) as right now my poor owl looks like he has cataracts — not exactly the motif i’m going for in my office.

if you’re asking yourself why a cookie jar is kept in an office, then we obviously haven’t met.  this guy makes me want to bake some cookies, stat.

and then eat ALL OF THEM.

my lovely friend sara commented* the other day that nothing makes her happier quite like a full fridge and pantry.  i wholeheartedly agree; case in point, the fruit bowls above.  although it looks like we are branching our graphic design business to also include a fruit stand for the entire neighborhood, this fruit will only last the two of us about a week and a half.

what can i say, life is delicious.

*okay, so sara made this comment on twitter, but i seriously cannot figure out what the proper lexicon for twitter verbiage should contain, and for the grammar-obsessed-girl that i am, this is like having a perpetual itch in that middle part of your back that keeps recurring and can’t be soothed.

sara twittered?  sara chirped?  sara twat (yikes!)?

if anyone can remedy this issue, i’ll be very grateful.  also, if you could scratch a little to the left while you’re there…

recently i divulged that with my recent 30th birthday, some Very Grownup Behaviour has occurred, chief of which is the zealous addition of live plants to our house.

one particular type of plant has long had my attention, and now it has my full-blown obsessive addiction as well.

say it with me now:

succulents.

succulents.

you know in west side story when the song “Maria”  talks about whispering maria’s name and it sounds almost like singing?this is totally how it is with the word succulents, people.  it’s an illness.  but these plants were MADE for our
mid-century modern/antique/lived-in style.  now i just need to figure out how to not kill the darn things.  so far, so good.

i strangely got two mugs for my 30th birthday, both of which i love for different reasons.  for my 30th birthday we had a progressive party that involved playing bingo, and it was entirely too much fun.  more on that later, but this was a sweet gift given to me by our friends jenny & chris.  what’s more awesome than a gift that matches the theme of the party?

you should note, however, that this mug has been drafted into service by the boy for morning coffee duty.
that’s going to change soon.  i feel a revolt coming on.

one of the other things charming me today is this little scene which also conveniently resides on the boy’s desk.

the boy has a long-standing love of superheroes stemming from the days when he used to follow his dad around on plumbing/heating calls and trucked around a fanny-pack full of these little figurines.  for the record, we still have most of them, except now they are stored in his very old “going to grandma’s” mini-suitcase in the closet.

there’s a funny story about that little suitcase, but that’s for another time.  actually, that’s for a time off the internet where parents and former students can’t read.  preferably with cocktails.  anyway.

the little guy on the right actually came from the lego advent calendar i got the boy a few years ago when i was trying (successfully) to foster some christmas cheer in him.  when he punched out day 18, this lego-man was there, and he cobbled together a few other lego-accessories from the other days and created what he calls his lego avatar.

in essence, my husband has a lego mini-me that lives underneath his apple computer screen.

now, the story goes (at least the story i’m making up right now) that lego-troy was lonely and needed a friend.  what luck, as when we i were was cleaning and organizing the hall closet what did i spy in the corner but shazam, apparently the boy’s favorite pretend-friend when he was young.  how do i know this?  because when the little red figure was spotted, troy screamed “SHAZAM!” and cradled (yes, CRADLED) the action figure in his hand for several minutes while telling me stories of their adventures.

for a few minutes i seriously thought our hall closet was a time machine, because all of the sudden it was circa 1987 and i was finding myself tightrolling my jeans and seeing if it was time to go to the school ice cream social at skate city.

i forgot all about this little time-bending excursion until i went to dust off the boy’s desk and i saw the little scene above.

oh, i really like him.

this was another birthday present, and he is certainly charming the socks right off of me right now.

as an homage to the boy’s hometown (the self-proclaimed elk hunting capital of the world) while winking at the fact that we would NEVER EVER kill or hunt anything and dead animal heads on the walls kind of gross me out, these cardboard animals totally hit the target.  pun intended, as always.  fred is right at home above our piano, and breaks up that ugly awesome wallpaper that we loathed has totally grown on us.

*     *     *     *     *

those are things that are charming me today.  what’s charming you?

conveniently, i have the perfect soundtrack to such a mood: peter bjorn & john’s (aptly named) album writer’s block.

so here is what we’re looking forward to this week [even though we're about halfway through]

- rediscovering music [see above] and getting awesome new albums from the library
- making curtains for the home office
- going to a fuel/friends house show to see david bazan play
- pilates class with the ever fun megan
- getting my dough hook for my mixer so i can attempt focaccia bread
- cooking two new recipes for dinnah [mll!]
- my 30th birthday bingo extravaganza on saturday
- the annual family march birthday dinner on sunday
- getting supplies for the next phase of decorennovation 2011 – painting the bedroom and making floating shelves for the office.
- redesigning the fixer website

have a lovely week, dears!

1. holding my newborn nephew benjamin for one whole hour.

2. checking out library books.

3. being able to pay library fines online in the comfort of my home without enduring any (totally imagined) scorn from a library worker as they view how very long it took me to return that one book.

4. brand new green and purple sharpie pens.

5. my red toms that take me on daily crisp walks.

[image from here]

yes, let’s distract ourselves with much more pleasing thoughts.

perhaps from the next room over, out of ear shot.

a refrigerator full of beverages.

few things please me more in the summer than opening up the fridge to see well-stocked shelves and a myriad of beverage options.  iced tea, cucumber-strawberry water, izzes, limeade, leftover soda and beer from a barbecue, sparkling water.

if i can fill a kiddie pool with the beverages in my fridge, we’re in the right area.  in fact, let me just go do that right now, so i can bathe in the bountiful beverage lagoon of goodness.

grown-up bed.

it was time for the boy to have a bed that reflected his 30 years of living, rather than, say, a 22-year old who, upon graduating from college, acquired a good mattress and thought that having matching colored sheets, blanket and curtains sufficed for bedroom decor.

enter wife, stage left.

i brought over my bedroom furniture, but our bedding/sheets/pillows area still felt lacking.  as we walked the aisles of ikea during our honeymoon, i lingered a little longer in the textiles section, and unearthed this perfect duvet cover.  an earthy pea green set, queen size, for the unearthly sale price of $17.  i snatched it up quickly, along with some soft slate-colored sheets, and insisted that we were taking them home, even if i had to sit with them on my lap on the plane.

the boy did not protest, but he seemed somewhat indifferent, only weighing in that the colors were acceptable.

then, after strategically shifting all of our loot around on the floor of the sea-tac airport so as to not go over the limit on baggage weight, the lovely bedding arrived home and i put it all together.

after just a few hours, the boy exclaimed (he would protest here, saying he doesn’t exclaim, but i know differently) that he loved our new bed and it was like sleeping in a hotel bed.

cheers, wife.

smiling, husband.

end scene.

bud vases with wedding flowers.

speaking of loot from ikea trudged home by a determined new bride, these bud vases rule.  they are sturdy and monochromatic and small and cheap and cheap and have i mentioned they were seriously only about a dollar fifty a piece cheap?

i’ve definitely been into the white on white decor lately.  i think i’ll start referring to it as my bob dylan phase of decorating, because perhaps that will make me feel that this is less boring than i fear it is (see also: blonde on blonde).  these pretty ladies perch right up near my desk.

trip vases.

i never know where to remember things.

i mean, i know how to remember things (except, apparently, my cell phone, keys or wallet as i walk out the door), but i never knew how to keep mementos from trips, ticket stubs, pictures, programs and general trip ephemera.  i’ve never been much on the scrapbooking kind of tip, nor do i want to just have boxes of vacation crap that i feel too sentimental to throw away and only visit when it’s time to lug heavy crap boxes to my next location.

early last year i was meandering around the internet machine when i spied a fantastic solution to my dilemma.  i forget where (so if anyone knows, i’d be happy to link), but on a blog someone wrote about how they stored trinkets from their trips in antique mason jars (cost: free to approx. $12) and lined them up neatly on the shelves.  it limits what you put in there, it displays it in a streamlined way, yet keeps everything as part of the decor of your house.

we have one from our trip to vancouver canada last year, and one from our honeymoon to seattle this year, and my only issue with this is why i didn’t think of such a simple and great solution myself years ago.

also, the polaroid mio (or, i suppose now, the fuji instax camera film) is a perfect size to fit.

of course.

a succulent that does not suck…ulent.

i really can’t help succumbing to the pun.  you’ll forgive me, right?  i know it’s bad.  i’m hideous.  don’t look at me.

i kill most plants.  and, full disclosure, the plant pictured above is currently in a stint of rehab [read: my mother's house] because it started to droop a little at the bottom and turn brown despite my following of the precise directions to not water it much and give it indirect sunlight.  but, it’s still not dead, and i’m hopeful that it will live.

the porch swing.

ohhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhh, omgggggahhhhhhhhhh.

two words:

porch. swing.

along with two more words:

cocktail.  hour.

when no other words will do, these four will save your life,  and probably save my new marriage from becoming an old stale/hateful one.

you think i’m kidding.

into the woods bathroom.

i can’t say that bed bath and beyond is my idea of a bastion of style, but this shower curtain is certainly one of my favorites.  we bought this with one of the gift cards bestowed on us for the wedding, and although the boy was initially unsure, once we put it up he quickly rescinded his previous doubt and fully embraced the stark tree silhouette greeting those entering our forest.  er, bathroom.

i like that it’s not too graphic-y, but not too nature-y either.  it’s a perfect balance, and about as close as we get to being outdoorsy.

time.

oh, summer.  i wondered if the summer would past too quickly, like the quick gulp of air you get between getting dunked in the pool repeatedly by an older brother; the abrupt breather between strenuous seasons.

thankfully, although it has been a full and somewhat quick summer, i don’t feel that way.

between finishing college, planning a wedding, pursuing and securing a job, and moving, the months from january to june were quite the blur.  my post-wedding june consisted of a house to establish, a marriage to enjoy, meals to cook and paperwork to fill out.  july has been a hot but glorious respite, and in my last two weeks before beginning my first year as a teacher, i feel like i’ve finally surfaced from my underwater dwelling and have actually had time to float, float, float.

the luxury of time will never be undervalued currency in my life.

the time for my soul to expand and breathe, the time for my exposed nerves to heal, the time for my mouth to open wide, wide as i laugh with friends i haven’t seen in what seems like ages, time to ingest food that came from the ground, made with my own hands, instead of from a paperbag crumpled in my grip.

time, sweet, time.

one of the things charming me, every day.

*     *     *     *     *     *

Tagged: life, lists, things charming me today ]]> http://thesaradarling.com/2010/07/27/things-charming-me-today-summer-installment-two/feed/ 0 sara, darling beverage central. bedding. bud vases. trip vases. succulent that doesn't suck. the porch swing forest curtain. time. http://thesaradarling.com/2010/07/24/30-before-30/ http://thesaradarling.com/2010/07/24/30-before-30/#comments Sun, 25 Jul 2010 03:08:47 +0000 sara http://thesaradarling.com/?p=1591 ]]> one of the blogs i read, making it lovely, created a 30 before 30 list, consisting (as the name obviously implies) of a list of 30 things she wanted to accomplish by the time she turned 30.

i love lists.

but i have a love/hate relationship with goal-oriented lists.  have i discussed this before?  it feels awfully like a well-tread discussion.  the reader’s-digest-condensed-version synopsis of my complex relationship with goal lists is that i feel often like it’s just an opportunity to fail and/or i make unrealistic goals or ones that as it turns out i don’t even care about very much.

and who wants that kind of pressure to muck up the fun of making a list?

but.

i’m being inspired by both making it lovely’s 30 before 30 list and also mighty girl’s mighty life list.  the things i like about these lists:

• they are specific
• they mix audacious goals with mundane “i’ll feel so much better once i’ve organized the hall closet” kind of goals.
• they are modifiable if needed or if wanted
• i love lists
• i really love lists

so, in that spirit, i may have allegedly rumored to have started creating a 30 before 30/mighty life list.  maybe.

[how's that for non-committal?  we're dipping our toe in the shallow end, here.]

one of the things that i knew promptly had to go on the list is acquiring pieces of jewelry that i love.  i own a few pieces that are in constant rotation, because i look at what i could wear and then immediately discard that for these items that i love lovey love.  as a rule, i think i should only buy things that i absolutely love, and we’re starting with jewelry.

also, i’ve found that i can get away with possibly more casual/simple/modern-lined [read: black, white or grey, which is what my wardrobe mainly consists of] clothes day in and day out if i pair it with awesome shoes and fun jewelry.  i also get compliments from my students, and that’s never a bad thing.  [or is it?  hmmm...]

here are some possible contenders:

[etsy]

[etsy]

[greener grass design, which is quickly moving up the ranks in my books for awesome stuff]

[greener grass design]

[dejarnette]

[dejarnette]

[etsy]

*     *     *     *     *

let the listing commence.

2: the amount of days I have left of teaching at Unnamed High School.

17: the number of days until I am a college graduate.

102: the number of invitations we stuffed and mailed today.

0: the number of invitations i personally stuffed and mailed (the dear french boyfriend was tasked with this chore while i “supervised” …er, graded papers.)

10: the number of research papers i have left to grade today.

32: days until i become mrs. derose.

1,789: the number of double-takes i perform when i see the words “mrs. derose”. weird!

10: the number of pages we got read from chapter one of “The Things They Carried” today. this.book.is.awesome. seriously.

12: the number of pieces of chalk we now own due to constructing a large 500-days-of-summer-like chalkboard wall in our new living room.

8: number of my friends i miss terribly. yes you. and you. and you too.

2: gallons of iced tea i drink per day when the weather turns warm like it was today.

20: number of minutes my brother and i talked last night over instant message. he made me laugh by referring to my sister-in-law’s girls only ‘slumber’ party tonight as “the dirty party”.

1: mini red stapler i carry with me everywhere i go.

358: number of staples that have escaped their box and clung, lamentably, all over the bottom of my school bag.

5: number of orange or red sharpie pens in my bag.

0: number of black or blue sharpie pens (ones suitable for writing, say, anything that makes me look like an adult) in my bag.

5: papers left for me to write in my last literature class.

5: sections of the second beastly porfolio (due friday) i have left to write.

1,730: things left to do for the wedding.

so…


0: the number of minutes i should be spending online, puttering about and writing statistic lists.

new year’s resolution: move past the anxiety into confidence and excitement, especially pertaining to, but not limited to, teaching.

new year’s resolution: add more color.