I believe all the excitement and planning for the summer, no, the year is over. My calendar is empty. Nothing left but time. And because I’m making an effort to spend less time “Chatting with babes online” and more time with my fictional boyfriend, Edward Cullen. I’ve joined the masses of teenage girls and their “true love waits” rings reading “Twilight“. It’s my answer to getting over Harry Potter (although I may never recover from seeing pictures of Daniel Radcliffe in Equus). I love it for all things mystical and that whole suspension of disbelief thing. But I really love it for the innocent love story.
I’m a little past the middle and there isn’t even a hint of second base. It’s all words. It’s all feelings. It’s wonderful.
I have a pile of sewing waiting downstairs that could reach my waist (not that I actually have one), my house is cleaned but not yet sanitized, I’m planning my trip to Minneapolis and all I want to do is dive in for just a few more chapters. I love that about a book. I love it so much that I just spent the last 2 hours on Goodreads, finding lists of books that I might like. I’ve been into the Chick lit genre as well as Memoirs. I love to see how people got to be who they are and where they are in life. I love trying to imagine the author’s voice, much the same when I read other people’s blogs. If you’re on Goodreads, drop me a line. I like to see what everyone else is reading. And, for the record, I have as many books on my “to read” shelf as on my “read” shelf.
Anyway, I’m a complete book dork. And I’m passing it onto my children. They currently own more books that toys and that’s okay with me. I can’t wait for them to get into grade school and start getting into chapter books like Ramona and Nancy Drew and even the Babysitter’s Club. I suppose there’s a bunch of new authors for the littles that we will discover together.