One down, Twelve to go

Okay, I know I haven't been blogging much, but it wasn't my fault, honest! I didn't think burning 5 years' worth of Chinese-related school books would take THAT long.

Just kiddin'. I'd rather bite off my tongue and bleed to death than burn books, even if they're Chinese and/or useless. Oh yes, you know where I'm going with this, don't you?

Without further ado, I present you...

Galvea's Incessantly Long Rant About Book Welfare
aka
Keep Your Filthy Hands Off My Books, Dammit

Those who really know me should know by now that I am an absolute perfectionist when it comes to books. I want them clean. I want them wrapped. I want them without the slightest hint of wear. I want the price tag intact, uncreased, and well-aligned. Better yet, no price tag. I want the book spine completely smooth and free of ugly crease lines. I want the cover clean of fingerprints. I want the paper smooth and well-pressed. I want them perfect.

And that is why I take several hours just to choose which book to buy. I'm pretty sure the cashiers at MPH Midvalley are quite accustomed to seeing me walk back and forth through the aisles checking out the same few books over and over again. I also admit to being one of those excessively picky people with the tendency to go through the whole stock of one single book just to see which one is in the best condition. Oh yes, that is most definitely a must.

When I buy a book, I own the book. Mangas included. No one else is allowed to go near it, let alone touch it. You touch it without my permission, you die a horrible, horrible death.

Lots of people have asked me to lend them books/manga. My answer? Ahahahahahaha NO. No one in my immediate family is allowed to touch my books in any way -- what makes YOU think you can, huh? HUH?!

Yes, I'm a possessive freak. I don't deny it.

I don't care if you've been voted "Best Book Keeper In The Entire Universe" by all the librarians in the world. I don't care if you cut your wrist and write a letter declaring to preserve my books in the very best condition in your very own blood. In fact, I hope you die from massive blood loss, thus saving me the trouble of kicking you in the shin and yelling "NO, YOU AIN'T GOING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BOOKS, DAMMIT!" in your face.

I don't wrap my books. That, in my humble opinion, is called "defacing and/or mutilating the book" and should be considered an inexcusable crime. If they start selling removable plastic covers then I might consider, but as for now that is highly unlikely considering there is no single universal size for books. Unless they manage to produce some kind of one-size-fits-all cover, of which I would surely endorse. For now, I'm quite satisfied with keeping my books in a shelf and dusting them regularly.

Bookmarks. I don't see the point in them. THEY ARE EVIL. Evil evil EVIL. They create a gap between pages. Gap between pages =/= Perfect = OMGOMG Aaaahhhh!! = Not Cool. If you can't remember which sentence/page/chapter/part of the story you left off of, then I'm sorry, you probably weren't meant to be a reader. Go do something else, like stamp collecting or something. Or maybe gardening. Gardening is good, unless you forget which plants you've fertilized/watered. Unfortunately I don't think there's a gardening equivalent of a bookmark. Sorry.

Speaking of which, I sure hope you don't need a bookmark while reading my blog. If you do, then you are lame. Very lame.

Since they have Cliff's Notes for EVERYTHING nowadays, I might as well make one for my blog. If you're the kind of lazy reader who likes to skip over lines and paragraphs, or, god forbid, skip right to the end of the book, this is most definitely for you.

Borrowing my books = Over my dead body
Reading my books without permission = Invitation to a gruesome death
Books = My life
Books > Your pathetic existence

There you have it. Cliff's Notes for my blog. Maybe I should call them Galvea's Notes. Nah, not as catchy.

I do wonder though -- who's Cliff?