Yest...

Yesterday I tried to clean my room and I couldn't. My room is absolutely overflowing with books. Books on, above, and behind shelves, books on the floor, books in boxes, books in baskets, books in bags, books in drawers, books beside the bed, books under the bed, books on the bed, and the rest of the house is the same way. Books on the television, microwave and washing machine. Books on the piano, books in the car. And I haven't even read half of them, and today, I went out and bought more books. I think I'm a kind of criminal.I organise my books constantly, and my mind has become slightly bent because of it. Last night, I switched Dante's Inferno (which I haven't even bothered to finish yet, may god forgive me-- for that and for spelling his name with a common 'g', and for keeping this parenthes-ed comment going on for such a long time) for Sue Townsend's The Public Confessions Of A Middle-Aged Woman on the shelf in my bedroom. I told The Public Confessions... that I wanted her on my shelf to break up the monotony of all the white covers, and I tried her between Tricky Business by Dave Barry and To Say Nothing Of The Dog by Connie Willis. Then I decided to put her at the end because she was too distracting. Immediately, I imagined the book in a future position on a different shelf, telling all the other books everything about it and how readers say they want interesting-looking books, but really want ordinary stuff, and snarkily saying things like "I guess I broke more monotony than she was comfortable with," and going on about how hard it is for a strong, independent book to find work in this town. And there I was, genuinely cringing away about the reputation I would end up with if I didn't put her back where I had originally placed her. I'm beginning to think I need to get out more.Now, since I last posted here, my parents have bought the house behind our house, which stands on land that my father's son was forced to sell over fifteen years ago, and which my father has always dreamed of owning again. It's very different from our yard, stuffy and concrete-y and grass-less, and nobody lives there except when family or my parents' foreign colleagues visit. (Two very friendly, sweet Australian journalists are staying over there at the moment.) So my mother keeps trying to get me to move some of the books over there, but how can I do that? I can't bear to be separated from them. They're like my children. What if they wanted me? (!) They therefore continue to pile up in my bedroom.So I've been thinking about something and I need all of your help. If you're reading this, please stop and tell me what you think about the phrase 'staring blindly,' as in 'staring blindly into the distance.' Is it a decent idea or does it immediately strike you as impossible?And now that everyone is completely over it, I'm going to do the song meme. Read on!Okay, first twenty songs on a randomised playlist, excluding anything without lyrics, and anything that nobody will know, because that's no fun at all. Also, when two songs by the same artist came up, I chose the nicer one or the single and discarded the other. This is going to be easy!1) But beware my heart can be a pin, a sharp silver dragonfly...2) The smile of Turner and the scent of roses, the waiters whistling as the last bar closes...3) When you get old and start losing your hair, can you tell me who will still care?4) When I'm alone with my fancies, I'll be with you, weaving romances...5) And when she wakes up and makes up her mind she'll see...6) Another town that I'll go walking through, with the rain in my shoe, searching for you...7) I’ll shine up the old brown shoes, put on a brand new shirt...8) Never seen thee or touched thee but known thee with all of my heart...9) I saw a spaceship fly by your window... did you see it disappear?10) My shaving razor's cold and it stings...11) Trying to live without your love is one long sleepless night, let me show you girl...12) First class and fancy-free, she's high society, she's got the best of everything...13) When you called me on the telephone, I knew that you were miles away...14) I'm so alive, I'm so enlightened, I can barely survive a night in my mind...15) Oh, look what I'm holding here in my fire, this is for you...16) You swoon, you sigh, why deny it?17) How you got me blind is still a mystery...18) Some call it magic, the search for the grail...19) Would I run off and never tell me where I'm going?20) Good authors, too, who once knew better words now only use four-letter words...