so much for brevity. har har.

I chose to reread "The Specialist's Hat" because I couldn't remember if the hat actually bit someone or not; I needed to settle my mind on the issue. After rereading it twice? The groundskeeper, I think? Still can't remember. Unlike my first reading--which was quick but awesome because it was one of my favorite--I just plowed through the internet readings, hoping to actually finish reading the story without my eyes bleeding from staring at practically the same spot on my monitor for so long. I don't think I retained much.

The problem with reading online is that I am mostly online when I'm at work and so there's more than internet distractions. There's work distractions. Work distractions for me include rousing games of ping pong where I DOMINATE (well, not really, but I have the swagger and trash talk of someone who does) and occasional bouts of actual work. It took me about three hours to read and it was difficult to stay focused. I mean, I made two moves on this Scrabulous game I'm playing that's taking about eight years to complete, checked my e-mail a handful of times, and left a friend a Myspace comment. So I tried again earlier tonight in the comforts of my room in front of my own computer.

And it still wasn't very fun. I cheated, I guess, and downloaded the PDF as it looked more like pages instead of huge blocks of text that the HTML version gave me at work. It was easier, the simulation of pages, to get through. The fact that I initially wrote "get through" instead of "read" sort of bothered me. I'm not sure why. Maybe I just don't take reading that much in one sitting at the computer as seriously or enjoyable(-y?) as I do with an actual book. I mean, I do enjoy reading things on the internet; I read Brevity, McSweeney's, a few other online lit journals, and more blogs than I can count, but those are are quick reads that often don't demand much from me as a reader. I'm stuck on the nice tangibility of having a book, as mentioned by Katie, that acts as a trophy of sorts that helps inflate my ego so I can subliminally say to everyone when I place it on my shelf, "See, I READ. This book here? Read. Have you read it? Well, it doesn't matter because I have and I don't have to tell you because it's on my shelf, thus implying that it's been read." Reading from a book has this nice sense of accomplishment; you can actually feel the pages go by until all of sudden you're at the end. Staring at my computer screen? Endless.