Counting days...

In 10 days I'm turning 26. This seems, both, improbable and absolutely real. I've never been bothered by getting older. In fact, I rather relish the idea of being 30. Though, that will be a few more years.

I suppose that it feels improbable only because I feel like I've been older than I am for the majority of my existence. It seems odd to me to be growing older.

Children that I used to baby-sit, that I used to change their diapers, are getting their driver's licenses and learner's permits. They're graduating high school and getting ready for college. And I'm sitting here marveling at the passing of time.

As a child, I never thought time could go fast. Its adorable how very wrong I was.

In many ways I feel like an old woman of 73 or 75, blowing out the candles of my life in slow breathy gulps. I am absolutely exhausted with this life. A few more candles and it will all be done. Right?

I am absolutely humbled by the passing of time. The parts of me that are not the old woman, are young children chasing the butterflies of dream and fantasy. And yet, there is a part that is the age I am now, anxious for a life filled with... Something.

Its very confusing, existing in this body sometimes.

I am 6 parts old woman, 3 parts young girl and 1 part myself. Naivete and wisdom, trembling on the prospect of all the candles flickering out.

I feel like a loose end. Not sure how I am to tie myself up.

So, I guess I'll raise a glass of champagne, toast myself to another 26 years on this crumbling carcass of an earth and drink 'til the bubbles erase all the random puzzle pieces tumbling about in my Dali landscape of a brain.

10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble

Today, while I was at Barnes and Noble with my friend Kid, I met an author. His name is "Cousin Vinny." At least, that's what he chooses to go by. He was trying very hard to get me to buy his $27 book (paperback, mind you).

He apparently used to be a Soap Opera star, now turned Christian ("I have some spirituality in me") author. He spent 20 minutes raving about how wonderful his book ("The Devil's Glove") was (read: He was raving about how wonderful HE was). He told me that this book would "change your life" and is the best book for "preventing suicide."

He bragged about how he had "NEVER had a bad review" and then proceeded to hand me all of his reviews (in small time Christian newspapers and local papers), they were laminated mind you. Not only were they laminated, but he had apparently memorized each one. He handed me a review and proceeded to recite the whole article, verbatim.

He told me that there was literally no other book with that plot anywhere (spoiler: Its about baseball and Satan). When I mentioned that it was somewhat similar to "The Screwtape Letters" by C.S. Lewis, he swiftly denied it. "Those are two demons fighting over a human. This is ANGELS and demons fighting over a human. God and Satan battling for his soul." (I'm paraphrasing only a little there, this is how the guy talked)

He told me that the writing was the best I'd ever seen and that this would be my favorite book, ever. I sampled the writing while I was standing there... Let's just say it was nothing to write home about. He wrote like he spoke. Not very well.

I am saddened to say that a Pastor reviewed it as being a blend of "Paradise Lost, the Bible and Field of Dreams." Which is very disheartening for Milton and the Bible. To be compared to this is, well, its not a nice compliment in my opinion.

He emphasized that he was a "messenger" (the God part was implied) and when I asked why he didn't go by his real name (Louis Anthony Agnello Jr) he said it was his publisher's idea. It would be easier to "remember."

I told him that "Cousin Vinny" reminded me of Joe Pesci.
He said "Exactly!"
I said "I don't like Joe Pesci."
Taken aback, he said "You don't?"
I said "No. Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book."
To which he laughed, half-quoting me in disbelief.

Also, this guy has no concept of the term "personal space." (His breath isn't so great either) He kept touching me, as if I were an old friend, not a complete STRANGER. I'm not public property, get your paws off.

After I escaped him (it took about 20 minutes, mind you) I literally asked an employee if there was another way out of the store besides the front door because I didn't want to walk past him again. The employee was seriously taken aback and informed me that there was not. But also said that if I warn the front desk that I'm going make a run for it they won't think I'm stealing.

So now, I have a mission. Somewhat. I'm going to read this book, if only to write a terrible review of it. It seems only fitting that I do so, seeing as how I've reviewed the author. You're welcome, "Cousin Vinny," for the "first" bad review you've received.

The following is an open letter to "Cousin Vinny" recounting the experience.

Dear Louis Anthony "Cousin Vinny" Agnello (or "10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble"),

1. I am not public property able to be touched because I'm in your space. Just because we are inhabiting the same area does not make me less than human or give you the right to just touch when you feel like it. Did I give you permission?

2. Bragging about your Stripping days in the same breath as you're bragging about how wonderful your book is does not make me want to read it. Especially when you keep saying you are a "messenger" (the "from God" being implied by your "I have some spirituality in me" comments).

3. You don't even KNOW ME, so how can you "guarantee" that YOUR book is going to be my "favorite book?"

4. You're trying really hard to get me to buy your book, but I feel like you're really just trying to explain to me why your penis is the biggest the world has ever seen. And I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying it.

5. Memorizing your laminated accolades doesn't make you seem cool, it makes you seem pathetic.

6. I am half tempted to read your book simply to give it a bad review. Seriously, you tell me how the writing is "the best" and that your story is "the most original" (fun fact: You're not original) and that the copies you are trying to hock are going to be "collector's items" because you are leaving that particular publisher, but I read a sample while I listened to you ramble and your writing style is similar to a 13 year old's. Seriously, I've seen better writing styles in Children's books. You write like you talk. Not very well.

7. You're visiting small towns in the Bible belt, of course this book is going to "sell like hot cakes."

8. Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. You play like you're the "Devil" just for a scenario, but you're in my face telling me I'm worthless. The difference, as I told you, is that I KNOW I'm NOT worthless. My worth is more than reading your book though. Seriously, how could you possibly think that would make me want to read it? Pretending that you are the Devil and that this book is going to save me from Suicide and save my soul... Dude, you don't even know my Soul!

9. "The Devil's Glove" is a terrible name. It sounds worse than cliched. And trust me, I've read some pretty cliched books. (Usually in the genre you are in)

10. "Are you big readers?" Nope. I walked into Barnes & Noble because I like the scenery. Never read a book in my life.

I could go on and on, really. This was the worst meeting with an author I've ever had. And I didn't want to meet you in the first place! Thanks for telling me all about your schedule though, because I now know to avoid B&N until Friday when you leave for St. Louis.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Post Script: Don't laugh at me because I said "Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book." I was being quite serious. Going by his character name really doesn't make you more likable.