Awaking in New York
by Maya Angelou
Curtains forcing their will
against the wind,
children sleep,
exchanging dreams with
seraphim. The city
drags itself awake on
subway straps; and
I, an alarm, awake as a
rumor of war,
lie stretching into dawn,
unasked and unheeded.
I decided to junk the whole honors program and be an ordinary English major. I went to look up the requirements of an ordinary English major at my college.
There were a lot of requirements, and I didn’t have half of them. One of the requirements was a course in the eighteenth century. I hated the very idea of the eighteenth century, with all those smug men writing tight little couplets and being so dead keen on reason.
—Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

100th post!

I’m having tons of fun on this blog—it’s something I would do even if it were a shout into the void (though, really, isn’t everything?), but it’s even better to share the love, so thanks for following and/or popping in!
For my 100th post, I thought I’d share my own bookshelf. This one I’ve only had for about a week. I love it. I recently moved and figured that was as good an excuse as any to upgrade from my overflowing four- to a six-shelfer.



Here’s to the next 100! Thanks for reading.


The joke is, we all have the same punchline.
—Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor
The economics of the wizarding world don’t make sense
There’s a band called Harry and the Potters, and they sing songs about, you guessed it, Lord of the Rings.
Right. So, they sing songs about Harry Potter, and sometimes those songs are about how the economics of the wizarding world don’t make sense.
I live for a good, obscure worldbuilding roast.
My wand only cost seven galleons
That doesn’t seem like much
No, it seems like a bargain
How does Ollivander stay in business?
There’s only so many kids
Who buy wands
There’s only so many kids
Ten galleons for a unicorn hair
Seven galleons for a brand new wand
Ten galleons for a unicorn hair
Minus three to Ollivander



