I'm It

Matt tagged me with the book meme. Jason Santa Maria calls it passing the baton. I call it following in Kat’s (oops!) footsteps.

Total number of books I’ve owned:

Owned like ‘purchased’? Or owned like pwned? Cause I totally pwned teh Wind in the Willows. When I was like 4. FACE! (or as Couch would say, Counted!)

The last book I bought:

The Hero's Walk by Anita Rau Badami (Don’t tell Sarah Harmer that I’m crushing on Anita. What’s the deal with me and older Canadians, eh?)

The last book I read:

Silk, by Alessandro Baricco (funny, I feel like I’ve been down this meme before…)

Five books that mean a lot to me:

Deliverance (Made me squeal with delight…)

The Red Tent (I don’t completely understand women, but I have a lot more respect for the shit they’ve had to endure over the centuries).

The Endless Steppe (In hell, the men in history who made war on this planet will have to walk before a young girl who suffered for their follies. And she’ll forgive them.)

Rain (I’ve already talked about why this book means so much to me, but I’ll share a passage that means a great deal why:

All children are powerless against the adults who surround them. We turn from them, set our mouths, but still our soft milk bones yield. They are bejewelled, our parents, they’ve earrings screwed into their lobes, buckles at their waists. They move amongst each other, the fabrics of their clothing touching, hem to seam, skin joined, lips parting. We have to share their lives, their homes and all their tricks. It’s what we’re born to. We grow and lengthen, spawn fills our own sacs, and still they want to keep us as their young. We’re their living, heaving seed. Proof that they ever loved.)

Catch 22 (It’s the only book ever written that is both the funniest and saddest in the history of words. One second Yossarian is running for his life from Nurse Duckett, and before the tears of laughter have dried from your face he’s watching his friend die:

"I'm cold," Snowden whimpered. "I'm cold."

"There, there," Yossarian mumbled mechanically in a voice too low to be heard. "There, there."

Yossarian was cold, too, and shivering uncontrollably. He felt goose pimples clacking all over him as he gazed down despondently at the grim secret Snowden had spilled all over the messy floor. It was easy to read the message in his entrails. Man was matter, that was Snowden's secret. Drop him out a window and he'll fall. Set fire to him and he'll burn. Bury him and he'll rot, like other kinds of garbage. The spirit gone, man is garbage. That was Snowden's secret. Ripeness was all.

I'm cold," Snowden said. "I'm cold."

"There, there," said Yossarian. "There, there." He pulled the rip cord of Snowden's parachute and covered his body with the white nylon sheets.

"I'm cold."

"There, there.")

Tag five people and have them fill this out on their blogs:

Memes come here to die.