For the first time ever I arrived home today to find my mailbox full of stuff for me. Usually I only find things for the 4 people I share it with. It’s very exciting – almost like Christmas! There’s:
* a book I ordered from Amazon for myself,
* a book I ordered from Amazon for my friend’s baby son’s Christmas present,
* some photos that I finally got round to sending off for printing, and
* something (a present) for Jan and I from his sister (Thank youuuuu Frauke! I don’t know what it is yet, but thank you anyway).
Now I just need to work on a way to get a mailbox full of stuff without having to order most of it myself 😉
The washing is done, the bin emptied and the desk cleared (I didn’t find any buried treasure by the way). The boyfriend has gone off to play poker at a friends. I was invited to play poker too but I can’t. I have tried to learn but I just end up confused and irritated. It’s all just too much for my simple brain to take in. So I’m home alone on a Saturday night. The perfect conditions for studying you might think. Except there’s pretty much nothing I feel less like doing right now. I have no desire to read through a so-called “lecture” (it’s a Word document for students of an online course to download, how can it be a lecture?) that starts like this:
– Understand what is meant by a text
– Understand what is meant by text analysis
– Understand what is meant by context
– Understand some theories for the analysis of context”
Sounds thrilling doesn’t it? No, I really don’t want to do that at all. I also don’t want to do the “hands on practical analysis” that comes afer the lecture. So instead I’m on here writing a pointless blog about not wanting to do my work. What I’d really like to do is spend all my money ordering books from Amazon before crawling into bed with Cecelia Ahern’s Thanks for the Memories (it’s pretty good up to now by the way) and a large box of chocolates. But spending all my money really isn’t a clever idea if I want to eat for the rest of the month and I don’t have even a small box of chocolates, never mind a large one. I do have some icecream, but even the thought of eating something cold makes my nose run so best not go there. One out of three ain’t bad though. I can live with just the book.
I’m sure I’ve asked this question before but… where on Earth do Amazon get their recommendations from? I admity they’re usually pretty good at predicting what I’ll like, and in this particular case they may be right again but I’m totally confused about their reasoning.
Amazon UK says I should buy “Gordon Ramsay’s Healthy Appetite”. Fair enough. I’ve bought cook books from Amazon before, it’s not entirely out of the question that I might want one written by Gordon Ramsay. Maybe I’ll even buy it. But… underneath the recommendation there’s always a little sentence telling you why they think you might like it. Under Gordon Ramsay I spotted the words “Recommended because you rated The Secret Garden and more.” What? Why? What on Earth does a recipe book by a TV chef have to do with a children’s book about an orphaned girl who finds her way into a locked garden? As far as I can remember there’s no cooking in The Secret Garden and I’m fairly sure there are no orphans in the Gordon Ramsay book (although I suppose there may be gardens… or at least stuff that comes from the garden), so how does the fact that I enjoyed The Secret Garden lead Amazon to believe that I might want to buy a cook book? The mind boggles, or at least mine does.
I’m off to bed now. I know it’s not even 11 o’clock yet but the alternative would be falling asleep across the keyboard, which would be much less comfortable and leave me with key shaped imprints all over my face… not quite my preferred look for work.
I was looking through my Amazon recommendations again today trying to find some more books to add to my list. I seem to have written most of them down now though – really I need to stop listing and get reading, but until I’m earning a proper wage that’s impossible. So for now I’ll just keep writing of my list and dreaming of the day I can order something new to read.
For now I wanted to ask if you could recommend one book that everyone should read before they die what would it be? And why? Answers in my comments please. If I like the sound of what you suggest I may even add it to my list…
I was on Amazon last night, checking out my recommendations. As usual it was books I was looking for to add to my ever growing list of ones I want to read. So where it says “narrow by category” at the side I selected “books”. So far, so good. But browsing through my recommended books I noticed something… I kept spotting recommendations for audio books. Err, what?? Those aren’t books! They’re tapes. Or possibly CDs. But definitely not books. I don’t care if it has the word book in it. Books are for reading. Or at least looking at the pictures in. They’re made of paper, or cardboard, or occasionally that weird plasticky-rubber stuff (for babies to take in the bath). Audio books aren’t books… they’re just recorded stories! So, back on the Amazon page, I looked to the left where you can narrow your search down even further and saw this:
Antiquarian, Rare & Collectable
Art, Architecture & Photography
See, CDs and cassettes! I told you they weren’t books! Put them under the CDs section for goodness sake. Or give them their own section. Just get them off my recommended books page!
Other than that I’m quite impressed with my recommendations. There are quite a lot on there that I actually would like to read. And lots of children’s books, most of which I actually remember from my childhood and now really, really want to have again (I lost a lot of books over the years… moving around a lot will do that to you). There was one book title that had me slightly concerned though. “The Butcher, the Baker, The Candlestick Maker: An Erotic Memoir by Suzanne Portnoy ”. An erotic memoir? What on earth have a been doing to be recommended that??
I love books. In fact, I’d go as far as to say I’m obsessed with them. I have a whole list of books (it takes up about 6 A4 pages!) that I want to read someday. And that’s just the ones that a) Amazon have recommended to me and b) that I found on Wikipedia’s lists of books by year… and I only went back to about 1985. One day I’m going to have a library. Not the sort that people visit for the purpose of borrowing books – although I have no problem with people borrowing my books, as long as they bring them back. No, I mean the sort that you see in old posh homes, the kind with matching bookcases all around the walls and a big fireplace. Mine probably won’t have a fireplace, but it will have some incredibly comfy sofas and armchairs for snuggling down in with your chosen reading material. It’ll be great! Unfortunately at the moment I’m not sure I’ll ever have a house, never mind one with a library, but a girl can dream, can’t she?
Anyway, the point of this post… Yesterday, while I was at work, I received a package. I knew it was coming, but wasn’t expecting it to arrive so fast. I went to pick it up this morning. My dad sent it all the way from England and it contained a) my A-level and university certificates, which I need for my job hunt, and b) lots and lots of lovely books. OK, there’s actually only about 8, not exactly lots and lots, but enough to keep me going for a while. YAY! And they’re all books that my dad rescued from being mushed up and turned into toilet roll while he was working at a recycling plant, so I haven’t even read them before. Guess what I’m going to be doing in my free time for the next week or so?…