Because of this book recommendation request, I spent a few hours yesterday going back and categorizing my old blog posts that mention my book-reading (and sometimes web recommendations). My word, I have been neurotic and insecure at times. But at least I read a bunch of books, though fewer than I'd like. I went backwards from March 2009, when I created the category, and now I'm on July 2002, which means I'm about 80% done. (In two weeks it'll be my ten-year blog anniversary.) Sometimes there's good stuff in there.

I ended up saying that it somehow embodied [Zack] for me, his amusing and cutting application of systematic logic to a huge pile of domain knowledge in areas I barely know, such as magic and speculative fiction. I think most of my friends do this sort of thing, which is why they're my friends.

I miss hanging out with my Bay Area friends, like Zack and Sarah. From her blog, seven years ago:

So I've often felt sort of unsuccessfully girly -- I'm amused by makeup and whatnot but don't really know how to do it right. My roommate showed me how to "blow out" my hair last night (basically blowdrying your hair in a fancy way that is supposed to make it look good). It's like those dreams where you discover a new room in your house, except this house is made of sugar and spice and everything that helps me internalize my oppression.

Also yesterday, while Mom was talking with her neighbor in our living room, I was listening (I can understand their Kannada well enough thanks to context, the MSG of communication) and twiddling the cord on the microfiber drawstring bag I keep my phone in, as is my habit. And I looked across the coffee table and noticed that Mom was absent-mindedly playing with a loop of string, too! Another moment of connection, of wondering how shallow or deep my present's roots sink into the past. Another knot.