So Emma got this book for Christmas. The Book of Lists. That’s actually what it’s called. She got this book because she loves lists and list-writing. The problem being, this was the wrong book of lists. The one she really wanted was called Listography. Yes, that’s actually the title. And yes, there is more than one book out there about lists.
Because she originally got the wrong list-writing book, she got the Listography book not once, but twice for her birthday. Obviously she didn’t need three books about lists, what with two of them being the same book, so we took one back to Chapters. I was so intrigued by this book of lists (Listography) that as soon as it was returned, I promptly bought it. Now we each have a listography book and have been busily writing lists.
Some of the lists are interesting (Historical Figures You’d Like to Talk To) and some are weird (Your Most Drunken Moments) with still others that will never be filled out (People You Wouldn’t Mind Sleeping With…?).
Here’s what I’m finding about my book of lists: it’s weird. I feel as though it’s even more revealing than a diary (as in an “I’m-fourteen-years-old-and-write-everything-I-think-feel-and-do-in-this-diary” type of diary). There are even lists that I want to start writing but can’t yet, because it will make them too real. Weird, right? It’s just a list...
3 comments:
The first book was not the one I was thinking of, HOWEVER, I don't think they HAD the book I was thinking about in australia, SO therefore, I still love it. Jeremy's family pays attention to detail and remembered I wanted a book of lists! I have a loooot of lists to write.
Editor's note:
By no means did I intend to imply that the original Book of Lists was in anyway inferior to Listography. Each should be judged based on their own individual merits, with neither taking a "first place".
:)
I love you. Why do you live 2.5 hours away.
not ok.
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