April 9, 2009

Life is Non-Fiction

I am a smart girl. I had a great GPA in high school, I made the dean’s list in undergrad, and I have a graduate degree. I pride myself on being one of those people who isn’t an expert on one or two things, but knows a little bit about most everything. My favorite game show is Jeopardy, because I love trivia about a huge range of topics. I love useless knowledge, especially if it deals with popular culture.

Most of my friends are just as, if not more, educated than I am so I’m used to hanging around smart people and enjoy the discussions and arguments that tend to ensue. So it makes sense that I would be attracted to smart guys. In addition to tall, dark and handsome, (and good teeth) brains has always been at the top of my list of turn-ons in the opposite sex. And not only do they have to be smart, they have to be comfortable with the fact that I have a brain as well. One guy was vetoed because he was intimidated by where I did my undergrad, which is not as impressive as he seemed to think. Okay, to be completely honest, that was just the first nail in the coffin for him. I ended the conversation after he told me about his lack of a driver’s license due to a criminal conviction. Seriously.

While I consider myself smart, I don’t do a lot to continue my learning at this point. I do some, but not a lot. Part of this is burnout having survived grad school while working full time and part of it is just plain laziness. I read important finance articles that come across my way, but little else in terms of enlightening myself. And up until a short time ago, I had been okay with this.

I recently had a friend come and visit me in Portland. As many people know, Portland is home to the largest independent book store in the country, Powell’s. Powell’s is huge, you can spend hours or even days in there lost amongst the stacks of books. It’s amazing. It’s common for my out of town guests to want to go to Powell’s and this friend was no exception.

We went to Powell’s on an afternoon where Portland couldn’t quite decide if it was going to be sunny and beautiful or gray and wet. After perusing the finance and cookbooks section, I was ready to move onto another activity. As much as I enjoy Powell’s, I’m a library girl at heart and rarely buy books. I have no place to store them and I’m cheap. So I did what I always did, picked out a seat on a bench near the door and watched the eclectic groups of people coming and going from Powell’s. About an hour later, my friend finally straggled towards the door.

What impressed me was not the fact that he had found six books to purchase, but that they were all on different topics. Everything from brewing beer books to a book on some music guy to books about the economy. That’s when it hit me, I enjoy learning about things, but I don’t actively pursue it like he does. He’s probably naturally smarter than I am to start with, but he is continually trying to increase his knowledge. And not just about topics that relate to his job, about everything he can get his hands on!

It’s been bugging me since my friend left, this fact that he aggressively pursues knowledge and I’ve gotten complacent about it. I read a lot, but I tend to read fiction, not things that will increase my brain. Which led me to start thinking that I need to get back in gear. Reading fiction is okay, but I need to even it out occasionally with something that stretches my brain. If I’m interested in a guy with brains, isn’t it fair to assume that they want or expect the same thing?

So this morning I went on to Amazon and looked up the top 100 books from last year and picked out some non-fiction books for me to read. Of course, I used Amazon to find a list and then went to the library website and put them on hold, but I have a list of non-fiction to read. And while the books I picked out aren’t as impressive as the ones my friend came home with, I did pick out some a book on economics and a book on behavior. And how could I resist books titled “Are you there Vodka, it’s me Chelsea” and “I Was Told There’d be Cake,” which obviously I’m going to read first. But hey, a girl has to start somewhere.

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