>>> It's not my fault...

A little while ago, a friend [whose identity shall remain a secret to protect her life (LOL) so we shall just call her 'Jazz' for now] told me, rather loudly in an Uptown bookstore, that I am way too generous and thoughtful that it's stupid.

My response?

An increduluous look.

Why did she even say such a thing?

Apparently because (1) I saw this Moleskine® Book Journal (Yes, I had to include the ® mark!) and I thought that it would be perfect for Miss Purple, which cost, well, half a mighty hundred. And then, (2) I saw this comic that seemed like it was right up Brighteyes' alley, the Pride of Baghdad , but I'm not sure why. *laughs* And the ultimate culmination of my "stupidity" was (3) purchasing the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows novel - which was on sale, mind you, for a whopping nine dollars - for my youngest brother since his original copy was stolen. Jazz, the same friend and not the music genre, almost hit me with another hardcover novel in the same pile because (4) I was considering buying the Special Edition instead, which cost a quarter of a hundred dollars.

*shrug*

So I like, or would like, to purchase things that seem appropriate or useful or something along those lines for people who I know, love and all that jazz. Jazz - yes, the friend - informed me that even if it's so-called normal for me, it's awkward for a lot of people. Especially the exes. And if life was like a comic book, her words would probably have been highlighted in bold, too. I was kind of flabbergasted, and told her that that's their problem, and not mine. People around me who are my friends and who know what I'm like should just accept the things that I do, like buying gifts and the like.

It's what I do.

Money's not an issue when I have it. Never has been. If I have it, I use it. Simple as that. And, for me, the best use of money, on something other than food, is on my family, extended family and friends. Hell, I'd give away my last dollar if it helped someone else.

It doesn't matter if I'm cash-strapped later, I'll figure something out later. Always do. So, there's no real need to worry.

If it's awkward or something for you, then fine, I'm sorry. But that's just you, nothing to do with me. My "job" in life is to help people, to make the people I know happy. I have no qualms with doing that, it doesn't make me feel at all.

And no one has the right to shove that on me or anyone else.

I do what I do because it makes others happy which in turn makes me feel good. A little selfish, perhaps, but everyone wins.

Bottom-line?

Don't make me responsible for what you feel when I've not done anything to warrant it. It's just me and the way I am, if you really knew me as a friend, then you'd know all this already.

This left Jazz a little dizzy, but she left it alone with a shake of her head, a toss of her hair and a distinct "Hummmph!".

*laughs*

But I know that she's just trying to protect me, in her own way.

She also realizes that I'm a sucker for young adult sci-fi and fantasy novels, like Catherine Jink's The Abused Werewolf Group, Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan, Angie Sage's Septimus Heap series, John Flanagan's The Ranger's Apprentice series and their ilk. [There's a hint in there somewhere.] She thinks that if she dropped a pile of them in front of me, I'd ignore the rest of the world. Her words: "I wouldn't even know if an atomic bomb went off right in my face."

She's probably right.

Hell, no, in fact, she IS right.

"Even when right next to you, close enough to tickle your nape with my breath, I am nowhere near. For as soon as I open a book, I am far away."

Books are both my escape and my inspiration.

And they make me, well, me, too.

*shrugs with a laugh*

And with that, I end this rather link-heavy entry, leaving you all to a wonderful week ahead and the Pride of Baghdad wallpaper that sits below.

ENJOY!


... if I'm a giving person.