If I'm Being Perfectly Honest...

...I’ve only started and finished a handful of books in my lifetime. Maybe that says something about my ability to follow through with anything. Maybe! Anyway, today I completed Augusten Burroughs’ memoir, Running With Scissors. Can I just say that I love this man?! He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s fucked-up. He reminds me so much of myself that it actually freaks me out to read his stuff.

Excerpts from Running With Scissors:

“But she did love him. I believe it. I know exactly how that is. To love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. Because they are all you have. Because any attention is better than no attention.”

(I wonder who that reminds me of!)

“My heart raced and I wanted to flee. And then I didn’t want to flee, I wanted to kill my mother. My face became like the heating coil on the stove, and I trembled with hatred. And then just as suddenly, I felt absolutely nothing. It was like a door quickly opened, showing me what horrible feelings I had inside, and then slammed shut again so I wouldn’t have to actually face them. In many ways I felt I was living the life of a doctor in the ER. I was learning to block out all emotions in order to deal with the situation. Whether that situation involved a mother who was constantly having nervous breakdowns or the death of the family cat by laundry hamper.”

(For the record, I don’t want to kill my mother!)

“It seemed to me that New York was the place where misfits could fit.”

(Preach it, preacher!)

And I can’t wait to bag my favorite author’s sophomore work, Dry:

“My blood alcohol level is dangerously low.”

I love it already!