It was the weirdest thing.
I checked out the book This is How by Augusten Burroughs from my library on a whim because I saw it in a list and the subtitle made me smile. This was especially noteworthy at the time because I hadn’t felt like smiling much around then. Right on the cover, the book promised to be a proven aid in overcoming things like shyness, grief, and decrepitude which sounded quite practical. Also, the promise of learning most anything gives me a special delicious feeling. Yes, despite it all, I remain life’s eager student. When a library book makes me smile and gives me a delicious feeling, well then, I just pick the fucker up because it’s a book, not a brain transplant. Not a drug, not a man, not a doughnut, not a plane ticket. It doesn’t cost money, I have room for it at home, I don’t have to rearrange my life to find time for it. It’s a clear win-win that is good for seven minutes or so of brightness; the time is takes from the smile to seeing it sitting next to me in the car.
A day or two later when I was about kneedeep in This is How, my husband and I went across town to deliver something important (more on this in a later post) and then wound up at Rose City Food Park, a cluster of food trucks in SE Portland’s Hollywood district. We played cribbage, ate heartily, and enjoyed a couple of Boneyard IPAs while I rattled on about whatever was going through my head, which was mostly my friend Molly, the beautiful spring weather, and the insight in this book by Augusten Burroughs I was fascinated with. I said I wanted to buy it so I could highlight passages like, “…screw everybody else. You’re not a bottle of Valium.” and then read it over and over again. As a result, my husband suggested we swing by Powell’s City of Books after he finished handing my ass to me in cards. Powell’s almost always sounds like a good idea to me even though I rarely actually buy books for myself there; usually I wind up with an impulse purchase like socks or lip balm while I’m buying books for other people. Soon we were basking in the famous city block of wall-to-wall books plus a tweebomb of paraphernalia. I wasn’t sure if I was to look in the self-help section, biographies or elsewhere for This is How so I asked at the info desk and received a little
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