Baby witches at the bookstore
Apr. 8th, 2003 04:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tylikSo after my appointment this morning (made it last week, when I was really worried about the dizzy spells, by this morning I just felt sick and was no longer worried, but it was too late to cancel) I headed over to the local B&N, 'cause if I'm going to be too tired and spacey to get anything useful done, I want to bury my head in some nice escapist literature until it goes away. (My head? Um, yeah.)
And there was nothing I wanted to buy in paperback. (Or maybe I just had a hefty dose of bad attitude.) So I picked up the latest Laurell K Hamilton (which I was only going to buy in hardback if I knew a few other people hadn't and I could lend it to them -- makes sense as a public service, y'know, but othewise it's below my threshhold for hardback even if I want to read it right now) and curled up in one of their nice armchairs to read.
And instead ended up in a conversation with a really cool woman, approaching fifty, who's ended up doing web programming and is currently studying C++. Her teacher has forbidden study groups or collaborative projects, so she was looking for a somewhat more approachable textbook since she has trouble learning from computer texts directly. (I SO sympathize. I don't have any trouble with programming concepts. And I like writing code, if not full time. But programming books put me to sleep quickly and not very nicely, most of them.) I recommended Lipmann and Stroustrup, she's looked at Lipmann, and Stroustrup was the class textbook. Oh, well... we had a nice talk about the joys of being a non traditional geek of one kind or another. A reassured her that in my experience it was always the people with the offbeat backgrounds that were really good geeks. She was getting pretty tired of taking classes with boys ages 16-22.
So she left and I read a little bit more.
In the Woodinville B&N, the really good chairs are over by the occult books. So when a couple of young teenagers came over and started looking through a selection of witchcraft and spell books, I could hear all of their discussion even when they weren't sitting down. I'm still not sure exactly what they were looking for -- a couple of the lamer spellbooks got rejected because "this isn't going to work". I tried to hide my smile in my book, but I'm pretty sure they saw it, and weren't quite sure what to make of me.
So I read on, as they settled into the chairs across from me with a few books to go over, and a bit of back and forth discussion. Finally, half an hour later or so as they got to more discussion and less reading, I finally looked up and asked
"So, are you guys looking for spellbooks, or more general witchcraft manuals?"
Ah, the looks they gave me! I mean, they were already looking a tad furitive to just be sitting there reading such books. (Not that they had anything a shade darker than pastel. Ah, the general fluff content of the occult section these days.) They didn't look entirely freaked out, though.
"Uh, we were just looking." Said one.
"Okay. I'm a witch, and I write for the local pagan journal" said I, brightly. "Just thought you might like some recommendations."
I decided not to push it, and went back to my reading, which was especially amusing given the sidelong glances the two were giving me. I can only hope I looked the part. At least I wasn't just wearing sweats... I was wearing black yoga capri pants (okay, slightly more stylish sweats, a dark green tank, and an old kungfu jacket open over the ensemble. And my hair was down for once, which has got to give me bonus points -- I have good witch hair anyway ;-) So we all went back to our reading, and after a bit I took out a notepad from my purse and jotted down a couple of URLs.
When they got up to go, a while later, I tore out the page and handed it too the less intimidated looking one. "If you're interested, it's a couple of web pages for Seattle area pagan resources."
She took it, giving me again the oddest look, like she couldn't decide if she should smile or hide behind something, and then followed her friend off somewhere else.
What struck me about it is largely nostalgia. I remember being that age, and the sense of creeping around as we combed through used bookstores and the university library stacks. It was so cool, so interesting, but at the same time a little frightening, a little transgressive. And much of this was even after I was working with other people... I have no idea if these two girls were at all serious, or if they might become so. (Maybe the one...) But at least I hope I've given them a slightly scary story to giggle over with their friends at slumber parties. (And part of me wonders whether, if they do check out the web pages I gave them addresses for, they might be a little disappointed that they aren't more creepy.)
I am vastly amused.
And there was nothing I wanted to buy in paperback. (Or maybe I just had a hefty dose of bad attitude.) So I picked up the latest Laurell K Hamilton (which I was only going to buy in hardback if I knew a few other people hadn't and I could lend it to them -- makes sense as a public service, y'know, but othewise it's below my threshhold for hardback even if I want to read it right now) and curled up in one of their nice armchairs to read.
And instead ended up in a conversation with a really cool woman, approaching fifty, who's ended up doing web programming and is currently studying C++. Her teacher has forbidden study groups or collaborative projects, so she was looking for a somewhat more approachable textbook since she has trouble learning from computer texts directly. (I SO sympathize. I don't have any trouble with programming concepts. And I like writing code, if not full time. But programming books put me to sleep quickly and not very nicely, most of them.) I recommended Lipmann and Stroustrup, she's looked at Lipmann, and Stroustrup was the class textbook. Oh, well... we had a nice talk about the joys of being a non traditional geek of one kind or another. A reassured her that in my experience it was always the people with the offbeat backgrounds that were really good geeks. She was getting pretty tired of taking classes with boys ages 16-22.
So she left and I read a little bit more.
In the Woodinville B&N, the really good chairs are over by the occult books. So when a couple of young teenagers came over and started looking through a selection of witchcraft and spell books, I could hear all of their discussion even when they weren't sitting down. I'm still not sure exactly what they were looking for -- a couple of the lamer spellbooks got rejected because "this isn't going to work". I tried to hide my smile in my book, but I'm pretty sure they saw it, and weren't quite sure what to make of me.
So I read on, as they settled into the chairs across from me with a few books to go over, and a bit of back and forth discussion. Finally, half an hour later or so as they got to more discussion and less reading, I finally looked up and asked
"So, are you guys looking for spellbooks, or more general witchcraft manuals?"
Ah, the looks they gave me! I mean, they were already looking a tad furitive to just be sitting there reading such books. (Not that they had anything a shade darker than pastel. Ah, the general fluff content of the occult section these days.) They didn't look entirely freaked out, though.
"Uh, we were just looking." Said one.
"Okay. I'm a witch, and I write for the local pagan journal" said I, brightly. "Just thought you might like some recommendations."
I decided not to push it, and went back to my reading, which was especially amusing given the sidelong glances the two were giving me. I can only hope I looked the part. At least I wasn't just wearing sweats... I was wearing black yoga capri pants (okay, slightly more stylish sweats, a dark green tank, and an old kungfu jacket open over the ensemble. And my hair was down for once, which has got to give me bonus points -- I have good witch hair anyway ;-) So we all went back to our reading, and after a bit I took out a notepad from my purse and jotted down a couple of URLs.
When they got up to go, a while later, I tore out the page and handed it too the less intimidated looking one. "If you're interested, it's a couple of web pages for Seattle area pagan resources."
She took it, giving me again the oddest look, like she couldn't decide if she should smile or hide behind something, and then followed her friend off somewhere else.
What struck me about it is largely nostalgia. I remember being that age, and the sense of creeping around as we combed through used bookstores and the university library stacks. It was so cool, so interesting, but at the same time a little frightening, a little transgressive. And much of this was even after I was working with other people... I have no idea if these two girls were at all serious, or if they might become so. (Maybe the one...) But at least I hope I've given them a slightly scary story to giggle over with their friends at slumber parties. (And part of me wonders whether, if they do check out the web pages I gave them addresses for, they might be a little disappointed that they aren't more creepy.)
I am vastly amused.
