thank you to everyone who took the time to greet me on my birthday. yes, today, if you were wondering.
my mom sent me a flower arrangement which just happened to come with a small furry white rabbit. i haven’t ascertained its sex yet. not that i’m being misogynist to a mere animal, but i was hoping to find him/her an appropriate friend to go with a nice roomy cage that i’ll be buying. and i haven’t named him/her/it yet. my daughter votes for bunny.
i’m not really one for sentiment, and i’ve been having quite a harried week so far, but i’ve been touched by the thoughtfulness of people. so much so that i found myself teary-eyed when barbie zhu lost her family fortune and her fiance in love at the corner. i tried to console myself that it was just the stress of being stuck in transit at carmona exit, but then i got home and saw the rabbit.
but before i got home i made a stopover at national bookstore to buy a gift for s’s classmate. and ended up buying a copy of another h.p. lovecraft compilation (necronomicon) and neil gaiman’s fragile things.
the necronomicon was a hefty tome, a black leather-bound and gold-lettered bible to dark things, and it gave me the same shiver that other well-loved compilations gave me: tolkien’s boxed set of LOTR books, the moldy red copy of poe’s complete works, a spare white edition of jd salinger’s catcher in the rye, the booksale veteran with movie-tie-in cover ruggedness of frank herbert’s dune, the bloody smiley face of alan moore’s watchmen, the numerous carefully wrapped issues of gaiman’s sandman series, even the ancient covers of edith hamilton’s mythology. heck, even the bible gives me the same thrill, with its vivid imagery of revelations and the footnotes on shekels and aramaic.
still looking for plath’s bell jar, ee cumming’s viva, brian herbert’s butlerian jihad, neal stephenson’s snow crash or anathema, william gibson’s spook country…