Reading Challenge: Books in Translation.

I punched the sun to where it belongs: behind the clouds.

Today’s weather took a turn for the beautiful: 56°F. Clouds did their usual (which is to say they smothered the sky in fantastic grey), and I believe the faintest splatter of rain graced my skin. I’m ecstatic and thankful: a hiatus from dry air! As to be expected, the chilly interlude will end as warmer days heat up and resume skin-melting terror. Once again, I am reminded of that time of year: summer.

It’s not that I despise the sun per se, but I can’t deny my love of grey skies and rain clouds. I love the smell of crisp, fresh air when temperatures are in the single digits, I love snow, wind storms, lightening, thunder, and crazy-mad rain. I love yuck-weather all-around, so a pregnant rain cloud is the very first sign of delight.

But the sun? No. I do not like the sun. It sends scorching heat waves that threaten to melt skin off my body. It causes the air to boil with *temperatures so hot that I lie motionless on the floor for hours—days, even—dehydrated. It reminds me that my body is not something I want to see in shorts and t-shirts because I chose to eat and hibernate like a bear. No freezer blast of cool air can save me.

(*75°F is excruciating.)

In consolation, summer holds several prospects that send just a pinch of surging excitement. For starters, my prick of a neighbor moves out July 20th. I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me. All I have to say is good riddance — I hope he’s moving off the planet and shrivels inside the stomach of a black hole.

In other news: three class-free months and an ocean of reading time!  (How many hours does an ocean of reading time translate into? My guess: a lot.) While stacking a bunch of books to fill my future free-time, I sought reading challenges over the weekend. The idea is that I’ll start one or two challenges after classes end, and so I came, conquered Google, and made discoveries. Alas, the saying is true: so many books, so little time! I wanted to take on this challenge, that challenge, and those, and these, and oh my.

Click picture to read Allie’s post!

To deny these challenges felt more frustrating than the day I sat as a distraught kindergartener. I was nearing a hot mess of tears and my hair was in danger of being yanked out by my own hands, because: god dammit, which letters of the alphabet construct my last name? It was a distressful afternoon as I watched my peers exit one-by-one to have a merry blast on the playground. Well, at least they could spell their names.

I remained indoors to wallow in disappointment, imagining letters H and A coming together and maniacally laughing.

But enough of that — fast forward back into the present moment. I fought off the temptation to take on ALL READING CHALLENGES, but I did agree to one: the Books in Translation challenge, hosted by The Introverted Reader.

The challenge–need I even say it?–is to read translated works, of course! You can sign up any time during the year and set a goal at one of the following levels:

• Beginner (1-3 books)
• Conversationalist (4-6 books)
• Bilingual (7-9 books)
• Linguist (10-12 books)

For once I’m playing it safe and aiming for the beginner’s level. (Because reading is risky business. After all, a paper cut awaits at every turn.) Books I have planned are Battle Royal,  The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, and Siddhartha. I would normally welcome more, you know, but with fifty-four books already marked as summer reads — not to mention several of which have quite the page count — three is a good starting point, I think. If all goes well, I may step up the conversationalist level and tack on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or 1Q84.

Look at me read! I can even spell my last name.