Amaryllis sillyramA

omg, I just checked out a book to a guy named Zoltan.
Awesome.

School started today, which means 40,000 people who weren’t here yesterday are here now. So many faces. On my way across the campus earlier, I got the strong impression that if I kept walking around, then very soon I would have been reminded of every person I have ever known.

From the cover of a magazine that recently arrived in the library. Whoever made this robot, well, let’s just say I love that person.

Today I am extremely frustrated about some recent events. Maybe tomorrow I will have calmed down enough to elaborate. For now I’ll just try not to dwell on it, and try not to get too growly.

My sweet sister Emily came to visit this week. (Hi, Emily!) We had such a nice visit. But wait! Let me back up a little.

M. and I returned from the Outer Banks on Monday, just in time to avoid hurricane Ophelia.* We had flown out there on Friday to attend the wedding of our lovely cousin Jennifer to the dashing Duncan. It was a very beautiful wedding and a fantastic weekend, packed full of great company and great food. We were all worn out by the time we got back. Felt like we’d been gone much longer than a weekend.

Emily and her darling friend Blondie were at our house when we got home, and she proceeded to feed us the most excellent snacks. And a most excellent dinner! We had stuffed chicken and steamed baby squash and wild rice, and purple baby artichokes for dessert. Sometime during the meal Emily and I shared a bout of near-hysterical laughter. I think M. and Blondie were just a little freaked out by it, but we sure enjoyed it. I don’t laugh that hard very often. I don’t even remember what we were laughing about. Something to do with methods of artichoke heart revelation, maybe.

Emily left some nice things in the refrigerator — whether on purpose or not, I’m not sure. (Thanks, Emily!) One was a package of lychee fruit. I just tried one a little while ago, and it was very interesting. The peel seemed sort of like an eggshell, the way it comes off in hard flakes, a little bit, then a little bit more, then the whole rest at once. And the inside, the way it’s folded in on itself — never seen anything like it in a fruit. The flavor was nice. Sweet. I wanted to have more, but by the time I’d gotten down to the seed (which I have to say is very nice-looking and smooth, like a little oblong horse chestnut) I realized that my mouth was starting to swell a little. Damn! Allergies! So I can add lychee to my lengthening list of forbidden foods. (Raw nuts, peaches (sob!), apple peel, fresh figs.) Boo!
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*Here’s hoping it’s not a real bad one. Fingers crossed!

Most of the time, when I read a book, it doesn’t take me long to forget almost all of what is in it. A couple of things will stick with me if it’s a good book, but most of it will fade. Having this lousy memory can be a good thing, because when it comes to re-reading a book, it’s nearly as new to me as it was the first time through, especially with books that are shelved for a long time after the first read. The Silver Crown, for instance: first read it as a kid, and when it came back into print years later, it was all new again — except for a few bits (such as the crevasse).

Not with Steps. It had been almost 20 years since I last picked it up. I re-read it last week and almost every piece in it was still very fresh in my mind. It’s that kind of book. I wouldn’t say it has haunted me, exactly. It’s more like some of the climactic images — most of which are very disturbing — have stayed put, or I have caused them to stay by regular pondering.

Be warned if you’re curious: some of the stories in this book are seriously messed up. It’s hard to imagine what Jerzy Kosinski must have been like. To write such stuff. It must have been a fearful thing, writing that book.

I’m impressed with the National Book Award people for not dismissing it as a pack of obscenities.