For those that don't know, snark is how I show appreciation

Apparently my copy of The Hobbit wasn't coming from one library over like I assumed. It turns out it was coming through Middle Earth itself. That's the only reason it could have taken four days to get to me.

Well, I guess the book could have had to walk itself here, flapping its covers as it dashed from tree to tree, avoiding dogs and cars and other pedestrians--yes, other, in this scenario the book is a pedestrian too, don't question it--who'd stop and destroy it/not stop and destroy it/pick it up and return it to a library drop box and start its perilous journey through the wet world of Seattle back at the beginning...

On second thought, Middle Earth is the more viable and realistic option here.

But I have it! And it turns out it's not the same edition that my dreaded school years nemesis had shoved into my hands all those years ago. Because this one has pictures! Believe me, it'd have made it easier to slog though as a child.

And slog away I have.

Although, in a world post Harry Potter and where Stephanie Meyer has a day job and her day job is writing god awful books about stalkers and abusive relationships and cheebus help me I've read all of her freaking books but it was for science so don't you judge me...what? Sorry. Got a little side-tracked there.

Let's just say that I've read so many books in my lifetime; so many horrible stories with wonderful grammar, and so many wonderful stories written by writers with no concept of how to tell them; getting over Tolkien's over use of the semi-colon is easily overlooked.

Ish. It did take me three days to get fourteen pages.

And, may I just say, that Tolkien's a freaking cocktease.

I mean it.

I mean, let's ignore the fact that rather than just describe Bilbo, the dude laid down an generic, genderless description of every hobbit ever (and that in itself was an essay that my mind wandered through for repeated re-readings), and let's jump straight to Belladonna Took.

Seriously.  This random hobbit chick that gave birth to Bilbo was some awesome adventurer, and freaking Gandalf shows up looking for her or her ilk because "adventures,duh," and all we get is 3 sentences on how she stopped doing that when she married Bilbo's dad because you're too busy telling a story about her 50 year old man-child hobbit who still lives at home?

Way to cockblock my awesome female adventuring hobbit stories, Tolkien. Small, round in the belly chick with fuzzy feet that says "sod it all!" to tradition and etiquette and goes off adventuring? Yeah. That's my ideal self. Thanks for nothing.


In other news, I've seen musicals with fewer songs in their opening numbers than The Hobbit has in it's opening chapter.