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Bullshit & Ignorance

October 19, 2010

Turning Thirty

Today is my thirtieth birthday. Thirty, that’s an age that when I was a child seemed so ancient. Properly old people were thirty – real grown-ups are thirty. As I’ve crept closer to that age myself I’ve fortified myself with the belief that thirty is the new twenty. I wasn’t totally sure about that though, so just in case I was wrong, I moved to another country and got married.

No, really I did. I moved out of the UK and now live in the US of A with my new wife. Go me! I’m a proper adult and everything now. Mostly.

As a result of the slow pace of the immigration process I’ve had a lot of spare time on my hands recently, which I have used to good effect by catching up on my reading. I read Lemmy’s autobiography, “White Line Fever”, which was as enlightening as you can expect a book co-written by an aging speed freak to be, really. Entertaining enough mind.

On the recommendation of both my new wife, and my friend Solidus I have been reading my way through C.S. Friedman’s “Coldfire trilogy” I’d have finished it already, but, apparently we only had the first two books and for reasons I will probably never know, so did every bastard book shop in the entire of the United States. I checked them all, of course. Well, a handful of the ones near me anyway. Eventually I just bought it from Amazon because I couldn’t face the crushing disappointment of checking one more fucking bookshop to find they had the first two, but A HUGE GAP where the third one should be. Anyway, I have digressed some. In the gap where I was scouring the entire planet for a copy of “Crown of Shadows” I was bookless, and so once again stole a book from my wife’s shelves and read that while I waited.

The book I snatched was Boneshaker by Cherie Priest. My wife has two copies of this book, one is signed by the author, the other is not. I was happy to discover that the copy I had been reading was in fact the unsigned copy, as during the reading of said book, there was in incident involving two cats, the book and a cup of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea, with freshly squeezed lemon juice in it no less.

There are two other books in that series, too. Fortunately there is no need for me to scour the four corners of the earth to find them, as we have them already. Following the cats-and-tea incidents however, I am somewhat wary of reading the second in the series, which we have but the one copy of, and it’s a fancy hardback-no-longer-in-print-special-spangly-edition version and also signed. It would be just my luck the cats would decide to maim that one too.

Anyway. Good books are good. Read them if you haven’t already.