Judging a Book by Its Cover

A couple of weeks ago I bought two new books to start reading during my class breaks (because I get very bored, and homework will always be there). One of the books, which I've yet to start, is a fictional story based on a true one about a woman with Alzheimers, and the other is a collection of some writer's witty short stories. I chose the latter for two reasons: 1) I enjoy short stories because they're quick and to the point, and I think it takes a lot of talent to be entertaining and thought provoking in such a little amount of space, and 2) the cover caught my attention and I liked it -- it's yellow and bright and the font is neat and the title is interesting.

See:

I skimmed through the first couple of stories before I bought it, and they seemed innocent and clever enough. However, the first time I sat down to read it my eyes opened wide and my cheeks blushed as the words I read to myself filled my head with distasteful images. There I sat in a student center full of people, if only they knew the thoughts being forced on me at that very moment...Seriously, if I wanted to read vulgar portrayals of one's sex romps or unsettled sexual orientation, I would have bought a romance novel. Yikes. SO, moral of the story: Take them literal when they say don't judge a book by its cover, because they kind of know what they're talking about.

Speaking of being dirty, I was recently called a dirty-bird for posting a picture of Michael Phelps, but honestly I don't see what's dirty-birdish about speedos and a fantastic physique. It's art. Also, I was likened to another blogger that likes to link his page to those with questionably crocheted objects. While the things I write about and post might be a little random, I think they're in no way comparable to a vulva made of yarn.

If you don't agree, though, I'm really sorry!

Pimp Living in Cali

Look where I could live for $625 a month, if only I were so lucky:

Or this one here, listed at $810 -- such a deal:

This one's my favorite, $725 and described as "cute and cozy" (I just see a carport and dirt lot but I'll take their word for it):

Kind of sad (depressing?)...but then I drive to the beach and dig my toes into the sand and remember why I'm trying so hard to stay here.

Awe yes, that's why I like it so much.

More random than the above were my thoughts today, one of them being how certain songs have somehow made up a soundtrack for my life. I'm sure many people feel the same way, I just think it's funny (strange, silly, weird) how one note or one catchy phrase can replay an entire period or moment of life. I had my ipod on shuffle as I drove to class today, and 3 songs played in a row that made me think of someone I don't much want help thinking about. For a moment I wanted to live in that memory again because it was once wonderful and exciting, but I couldn't because it now just ties my stomach in knots. (Why does it still do this to me? Dammit.) Unfortunately, the fact that I relate music so closely with life is that certain songs/artists/bands are annoying when once they were good. Take for example: John Mayer. I used to think he was mellow and insightful, now he's just a douchebag. Poor guy, it's not his fault really. But I'll get over it, I just need to keep moving forward as I have been. Soon new memories will replace those old ones, and they will be so much more wonderful and exciting because they'll be genuine and meaningful. They will be the real deal. HE will be the real deal. I'm patiently waiting, by the way. I'm in no rush, but I am excited to see what songs will forever make me happy because they'll remind me of when he came into my life and blessed me with a lasting friendship and love. We'll be so lucky :)

Okay, enough randomness for tonight. Another early morning alarm clock tomorrow morning, yay!