And let's not forget the academic section.
Lots of reasons abound of course. For one thing, non-fiction's usually an anathema to me since I usually find them all ( with very few exceptions! ) generally dry and dreary. I'll admit freely I need to escape to some fluffy fantasy fiction once in a while after dealing with way too much gritty realism at work. So what if it isn't real? I need some sweet escapism dammit.
And God knows I couldn't be happier if I didn't need to see another textbook in my life!
Of course Lanky Lex practically lives in both these restricted areas ( a peculiarity that I always find baffling ) which is why we found ourselves practically hidden away between Physics and Mechanical Engineering during the pouring rain this evening.
Somehow we got to talking about Physics. A dreaded subject for me.
I'll admit not all hand gestures are as unequivocal!
And that's not the Fleming's Right Hand Rule in case you were wondering.
And found out that a remarkably simple hand gesture can mean altogether different things to a doctor/pharmacist, a geologist and a physics teacher. Try it. The infamous Fleming's Right / Left Hand Rule? For someone with a knowledge of human anatomy, the shape's surprisingly similar to the orientation of the three semicircular canals of the vestibular system in the inner ear. Of course to a geologist like Jaunty Jared, it's something else entirely - some kinda soil density measuring mumbo jumbo.
Finally admitted ( to Lex's horror! ) that I razed all my notes and manuscripts from my schooldays after my finals in Form Six. Seriously. Prior to the final exams, I made a pact with myself - and possibly some heathenish idols - that I'd burn all my notes in a celebratory bonfire if I successfully leapt the final hurdle into university without a hitch.
Well, obviously I did.
You know how I personally abhor the act of burning books so consider this an uncharacteristic flight from logical behaviour. So all the painstakingly handwritten notes from my entire secondary school got consigned to the sacrificial flames on the very same evening my results were announced. And beautiful notes they were too, with drawings, doodles ( mostly caricatures of my beastly tutors ) and additional notes in multicoloured neon script. Not to mention the obsessive anal-retentive diagrams and tables.
Yes, along with little sketches of my ISO's patrician nose.
I'll admit that I did dance a lil jig on the ashes.