Flurry-A Frozen Creation

Library book sales are quite possibly the best thing ever to occur. It's probably a by-product of having so recently been in college, combining an affinity for both devouring books and spending as little as possible in all facets of life. You can, then, imagine my elation after having returned from a book sale in New Kensington, particularly in the not-quite-right attitude induced by not having slept recently. There's only one way to get this out, and that is to list what $4.75 can buy in New Kensington. In no particular order, of course.

• Dune Messiah-Frank Herbert


• Basic Teachings of the Great Philosophers-S.E. Frost, Jr.


• Invisible Man-Ralph Ellison


• Survival in Auschwitz-Primo Levi


• Tropic of Cancer-Henry Miller


• Tropic of Capricorn-Henry Miller


• In Cold Blood-Truman Capote


• Big Mac: The Unauthorized Story of McDonald's-Max Boas and Steve Chain (1976)


• Four Plays: The Bald Soprano, The Lesson, Jack or The Submission and The Chairs-Eugène Ionesco


• The Physicists-Freidrich Dürrenmatt


• Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman-Richard P Feynman


• For Whom The Bell Tolls-Ernest Hemingway


• Fair Ball-Bob Costas


• Phaedrus-Plato


• Essays in Philisophical Psychology-Donald P. Gustafson


• Men At Work-George F. Will


• Vom Glück des Lesens und Gelesenwerdens

...

For $4.75. Clearly, I have succeeded as a person.

I couldn't help but notice the small oddities at the book sale, what with the children screaming at the top of their lungs in a library, the "Religion" section which was, indeed, one very specific religion, the population of the Non-Fiction section with etiquette books, and the fact that Danielle Steele has written more than the rest of the entirety of literature ever combined.

But, onward and upward.

It's possible (rather, probable) that I can't think of anything that I'd like to put in here about the news because I haven't heard anything really new since getting off work at 5:30 am, and so whatever. I am going to Cilley's wedding tomorrow, which both throws into perspective my own unavoidable latching and the fact that gas is $2.32 right now. I don't think I have to go into how many books I could get for that. I'm currently weighing the options of packing my suit or just going nude, and you'll have to wait to see how that works out. Let's just say I'm very tired right now, and like to put Cilley through as much as he can reasonably be expected to handle.

I don't have to work until Monday, and even then, it's the preferable 6pm-2am shift, rather than the true overnight and maybe I'll be able to read about what the people of 1976 thought of the company I've pledged myself to for the next month or so between now and then.

I'm going to go. I might post again before taking off for Harrisburg, but I wouldn't trust myself to do so. I wouldn't trust myself as far as I can throw me. Which isn't far, I think. Because there are some unavoidable physiology things I think I'd have to break to do that for any appreciable distance.

The title is what's on the Flurry machine, by the way. Which is nice, because it makes me feel like some kind of minor deity whenever I make a flurry for my break.