sooo 2003...
I was telling someone just this morning that I don't want to read any of the following genres of books:
- International genocide
- Cancer/terminal illness tomes
- War-torn epics full of death
- Shit that's gonna make me want to jump off a building or otherwise depress me...
It's not that I don't care about war, famine, death and oppression. But I just can't right now. I can't even do badly-done romance or erotica right now (and Lord knows there's plenty of that). What I'm into right now is memoir, specifically this:
And next up is this (I hear this is getting some seriously mixed reviews, but that's part of why I want to read it. You know I have a love/hate relationship with Ms. Rebecca):
That's just where I am now. Trying to have fun, trying to find the balance of being me. I want stuff that makes me think, but damn. I don't feel like crying or dwelling on misery just now. That's soooo 2003. Sooo played right now.
2007 is all about the happiness.
I can't believe I feel this up on a Monday morning.
