DYFL?

Life's Little Disappointments, Vol. I

We call upon the author.

I got tagged by kfan and was given three years in which to respond, but since I know full well how viciously I procrastinate I’m just gonna knock this one out right now:

Total number of books I’ve owned:

I don’t know. Hundreds and hundreds. Possibly over a thousand if the graphic novels and collections are included.

 The last book I bought: 

Comics: The hardcover of Millar & Hitch’s Ultimates 2 on Wednesday. Proper Book With Words: Err… OK, I admit it, it’s The New Encyclopedia Of Modern Bodybuilding by Arnold Schwarzenegger. I’m not proud. So far my planned re-commitment to working out has not yet begun, but I sure have thrown some more money at it! That counts for something, right?

The last book I read:

Comics: Ganges #2. Not quite book length but I’m counting it. Proper Book With Words: Don DeLillo’s The Names. 

Five books that mean something to me:

Grant Morrison’s The Invisibles, Salman Rushdie’s The Ground Beneath Her Feet, James Robinson & Tony Harris’ Starman, William Gibson’s Idoru, and Clive Barker’s Sacrament, even though I’ve only ever read about fifty pages of it. Long story. 

Tag five people and request they fill it out on their blogs:

Lia, Craig, Caroline, and whoever else feels like it.  

Last Night's Dream

For the second time in a week, I dream about London: in the first one, I was flying into the city with my mother on a plane that skidded off the runway and into a lake upon landing. We got out very easily, but nobody else did, and for some reason this wasn’t a problem for anybody but me. As we flew over the city on approach I noticed that all of the landmarks were present, but not where they were supposed to be.

In the second, I am coming home from Soho on the Circle Line (itself an oddity), but I can’t tell which way around the circuit the train is traveling. The train runs above ground in areas where it should not be doing so, and for some reason there is a vertical portion in the middle of the Circle running north-south. I wind up getting off the train somewhere in north London when all I want is to get back near Gloucester Road.

In another portion of the dream, our company president speaks to us in a public library about keeping good records of what talent did what on each book.