I suspect that many readers of this blog are people with my longtime love affair with the printed page. I don't remember learning to read. I was the kid who got sent to the library to read Nancy Drew books while the rest of her class was learning the basics. In some ways, that was cool. In some ways, it made me a weirdo. If I am correct in my assumption, most people reading this were also weirdos. Group hug!
I have a compulsive relationship to print. If I'm walking down the hallway of any nameless institution and there are things posted on the bulletin boards, I need to check them out. (Apartment for sublease! Cheap!) In the shower, I read the shampoo bottle, which was a big help when I took organic chemistry, because I already knew what sodium laureth sulfate was.
At the moment, I'm taking a literature class and a literary criticism class, so I've recently read Jane Eyre, Frankenstein, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and various scholarly essays on feminist, Marxist, and psychoanalytical criticsm. There is a reason these books are classics, and I am loving my classes. Yeah, I'm a weirdo. So sue me.
I can't wait to turn these new critical skills loose on my shampoo bottle.