There’s a shop just walking distance from our place that mum and I frequent.
It’s a stationery shop that offers printing services, and ever since our own printer crashed, we’ve been coming here every time we need a form printed for school, or something like that.
(Which also means I can’t print out weird reads myself anymore… wait, what?!)
It usually takes a while, and I don’t know how, because I’m never in printing room.
I’m always outside, in the stationery shop.
Always there, fanning over the diaries on the shelves there.
I’m a huge diary fan. I’m not even a closet fan.
If you turn up at my place, you’ll find a shelf full of those smooth, blank, single ruled notebooks.
My mum has tried for three years and failed to get me to clear out my shelf, and keep my school books up there, because “if you can see your books, you’d study better.”
(If I cleared out my diaries (all but five of which are empty at the moment) and kept my school books up there, I wouldn’t be wasting as much time searching for my books in my maze of a cupboard.)
But I refuse to let those diaries out of my sight.
A5 size, I think. Smooth feeling, not blinding white, single ruled, about 200 to 300 pages of space, leather feel on the cover, sometimes hard bound, sometimes bendable, often black, sometimes with blues, or oranges or reds, all rich, bright, vibrant, evenly toned throughout, smooth spongey porous leather like feel, with folded edges, the outer ‘skin’ stitched to the inside of the book, then (mostly) a thin book-length satin sash that I use as a bookmark, and if I’m lucky, an elastic binding that slips easily over the book pages, holding them together.
You know the kind.
I’ve seen all there is to see in this department, and that never dampens the fanning the next time.
I’ve been in a superhero themed store nearby, and again, those beautiful notebooks stand on the shelves, with a Flash symbol, or the Batman or Spider-Man sign engraved in a darker shade on the covers.
Most of these notebooks I own are courtesy my dad.
I’ve made him get me a new one every year (because that’s when they distribute boxes of them in his office.
Hey, remember, this is me we’re talking about. Boxes!
… I’m still in control here…)
I made him get me a box of 400 page diaries… five of them!
Now my shelf is bending with their weight!
But they’re a dark blue. I’ll say no more.
My dad, however, promises I’ll never get another one in my life, and that I should use these (precious) notebooks for math calculations.
Oh, the horror.
Oh, the horror.
You see, I can’t really buy them myself. Yet. That’s because they’re really expensive. Of course they’re totally worth it.
So as we stood in the stationery shop, my mum taking out a print, I stood at the shelves, taking out notebook after notebook, just the right kind, feeling it over, getting the dust of notebooks no one buys all over my fingers, explaining to the bewildered shopkeeper that I was “just looking”. Nope, not losing my shit. Totally in cruise control.
And then, overcome by a sudden joy (read: fan moment), right there in the store, I began to pen down my fandom’s legacy.
Well, that’s it.
I apologise for dragging this on if you were expecting a sudden twist/punch line at the end, but there isn’t one.
This was the point of my pretty pointless post.
A rave, actually.
But yeah, I suppose it feels good to get this blog up and running again, it’s been a week!
I’ve currently been working a bit keenly on a new blog, just for gags, but I’ll put out another survey real soon. Maybe even in two hours from now, who knows.
But till then, (yes, I totally stole this from the Amazing Spider-Man comics,) face front!