I had a depressing realization yesterday. Someone asked me to borrow a book I had listed on one of my various internet profiles as a favorite of mine. That wasn't neccessarily depressing, it was just that I realized that I haven't read anything on my own (i.e. not assigned by my teachers) since Fast Food Nation, several months ago. I am sort of excused, high school is very busy and they hardly allow you to do anything outside of what they tell you to, and YAA and everything on top of that…BUT I have no excuse, really. And I decided that I need to start reading again. I figure I'll get a lot of time this summer, since I won't have any friends at that French camp since I speak very little French and you're not allowed to speak English. I know "Getting-a-Bandaid-if-I'm-hurt" French, but not "These-are-my-hopes-and-dreams-for-the-future-and-this-is-who-I-am" French. But that's not the point of this post.
So what is the point?
Catcher in the Rye. That's what I am reading to start myself back on the path to literary life. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. I started it yesterday and I've hardly put it down; I've got about 20 pages to go. As a book, I like it a lot but I can't stand the main character. He hates everybody and all he does is criticize things. He's rich, young, white male and it seems like all he does is bitch about everything. But what scares me the most is that I see a lot of similarities between him and me. Not the hating everybody part, but just small personality traits in other departments that I sort of echo.
Hopefully there'll be some crazy wonderful ending to the book where the character changes and I won't feel so bad about being like him.