It’s almost July, and I think this would be the best book of the year for me.
This could be finished in one setting, but I let life get in the way. However, there were times where I did it on purpose because it’s so engaging that I didn’t want this read to end so quickly.
As someone who has minimal to near zero understanding of the world of performance arts, I was skeptical at first. I assumed, that I wouldn’t be able to ‘get’ this book. But I was so wrong. It’s written in a way that could capture your heart and soul. That would draw you into the world of performance arts without you realizing it – that you’ve learned a little of their world.
I might be able to finish it soon, real soon, but I’m refusing to. I really want to savor every remaining bit of the stories, the pages.
Dot Journaling: A Practical Guide by Rachel Wilkerson Miller
I succumbed. Been on the fence for quite sometime. As in bullet journaling, not the book.
I keep a journal (journals, over the years. Few were dotted ones, before “bujo” got popular. I bought it because it was on sale), currently an orange Moleskine and a big spiral “Nickelodeon” notebook (I’ll post it next time), but it’s something I write in fullsentences, with minimal doodles here and there. Apparently you’re not supposed to do too much of that (writing in long form) when it comes to dot/bullet journals.
So I stumbled upon, flipped, and skimmed the book at the bookstore today. The ideas were brilliant. I then joined a few Facebook groups for more (used to be IG, but I don’t do much IG nowdays) inspiration and I’m helplessly hooked – though I know not for long, because, well, I’m 37 – and I have had a few things figured out, and one of them is my journaling style and habit. Going full-on bujo won’t be possible, but it’s worth the occasional sin.
Back to the book. Even though it would be nicer to read and reference it in physical form, I decided I didn’t want to carry too many things around (I already have a journal and a Kindle in my bag) so digital it is.
The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades before Roe v Wade by Ann Fessler
This is one of the books that should be made compulsory reading for anyone who’s able to procreate.
I am at chapter 4, and naively hoping to come across interview subjects from the opposite gender. I know it’s likely impossible, but it would be nice to hear from them. How they felt after their girlfriend were disappeared, what they took and carried with them to the Marine Corps – and some, the Vietnam War – after their families told them they are never to marry the girl they impregnated and love, how they felt all these decades knowing they have a daughter or a son out there.
But I know it’s not gonna happen. I’ll make do with the women’s testimonials. It’s tragic enough.
Available for pre-order. This is so hard to resist. Too hard. There are few other accounts but somehow all these years I waited. Others had great reviews, but maybe I was busy with other books then to notice.
Chernobyl happened when I was old enough to grasp hard news. The theories and conspiracy theories. Years and years after. I never got around to reading one single book about it, and here it is, in all its tragicity, right when I’m no longer busy with building a career and thus have time to read.
Here’s a link to the author, who’s a journalist (my weakness and passion point). I have a feeling I’m gonna be adding it to my read pile soon…
I read this before watching the movie. The movie could only cover this much, plus there are tens other biographies of the late Freddie Mercury. I decided to go with this because it’s written by a journalist – someone who was actually there, having bore witness to, and living it up during one of the greatest decades of music production.
Worst part of the book? I think it’s about the Chinese girl trying not to get bullied and hence chose to hate on blacks so that she could “be” left alone by the whites – by hating on the blacks. It’s disgusting, having to publicly express hatred toward another race in order to survive in a f*cking school. A f*cking school. Only in America? Don’t think so. I didn’t go to school with kids from other races until my teens. Even then, they were considered ‘exotic’ because there were so few of them. We actually wanted to make friends with them, because their culture is different, intriguing, something we don’t get to experience probably because our country’s school system is so segregated it’s f*cking ridiculous.
Before reading this book, I never had to have an opinion about their way of life, their culture. After all, I live in Asia. There are no Gypsies here. While I’m aware of how certain people hate them (why, what for), I never dug deeper beyond the stereotypical “all Gypsies are thieves and uncouth” line. I did have first-hand conversations with Europeans (friends, ex-colleagues) about the Romany people, but they weren’t white supremacists so there weren’t much to hate on beyond those lines. So I’ve finished the book – Still no opinion. It’s their way of life. To the normal society, they are in dire need to change or “be changed” (i.e. continue to be discriminated against until their culture vanishes altogether). It’s sad, it’s tragic. It’s no different than oppressed little girls forced to go through FGM or marry old men at the tender age of 5.