I went on a Habitat For Humanity trip to South Carolina as a college junior. Amazing trip where we did some great work and met some incredible people. But from my college, it was a 17-hour drive in a van. Needless to say, my iPod wouldn’t suffice for the entire trip. So I brought the book I was reading at the time along with me.
Here’s the problem: this is the book I was reading.
It was popular at the time (with 14-year-old nerds, I know) and I had already read Eragon and Eldest, the first two books in the four-book series. So naturally, I decided to bring it along. All 749 pages of it. On top of this, I couldn’t really fit it in my backpack, nor had I adapted to the idea of wearing contacts just yet.
Thus, on the trip I was that guy - the 20-year-old kid with glasses and a glaringly obvious fantasy novel that he lugged around with him wherever he went. The Dragon Book Kid. No matter how I tried to hide it, it fell out from behind my backpack, from underneath clothes and out from under the bed. Much like Spiderman with his webs.
There’s no real point to this story, other than the fact that I’m 23 and currently reading the last book in the series in the exact same fashion: lugging it around everywhere and poring through it like a federal investigator through Watergate documents.
Like a boss.
A little bit of everything we see/hear/taste/love in life from a 25-year-old dork from New York.