Yeah, I've got another blog. I probably won't write in this one with the same frequency as my "mommy" blog or the one where I exercise my self-deprecating (or is it self-loathing) tendency in my journey towards (or around) weight loss. But I wanted to start it nonetheless. Why? Because I haven't been in front of a class room in 2 years now and I rarely get to talk about one of the greatest loves of my love--reading.
One of my plans for the new year (I hate the idea of resolutions, so if I just play around with it semantically, that makes it way less cliche, right? sure), is to read more. Not that I've been staring blankly at walls for the past 2 years or anything like that, but I've really not been reading the type of literature that makes my brain light up, or that gives me the urge to sit down with a friend and a cup of coffee and just talk, talk, talk about the book until we've lost all sense of time and space.
So here I am, all Jodi Picoult'd and Phillipa Gregory'd out. Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed almost every page of the eleventy billion of their books I've read, but the truth of the matter is, they don't really write stuff that resounds with me (except perhaps Picoult's My Sister's Keeper) and quite often I can't recall how one of their stories ended more than a week after I've finished it (and that's pretty sad considering Gregory's novels are based on a history I minored in during college).
My hope is to power through the New York Times' Notable Books of 2007 (http://tinyurl.com/3dszf8) and share some of my thoughts on each book I complete here in this blog. This is going to mean that I will be walking my contrite ass over to the library and paying some insane overdue fee for books that I forgot about during our kitchen remodel. They lived, in all their overdue glory, under a plastic tarp in my dining room for a good 6 weeks before I discovered them and realized I was probably going to have to get part-time job just to pay the library fee. But many of these books are in hardcover which makes them unbuyable for me because Husband would kill me if I came home with a dozen gigantic books. As it is I am about to donate a gazillion (I promise hyperbole in each and every blog I write, people) books to the library just so that we have room to, I don't know, WALK through our house. The size of our house and my love of the written word do not go well together, let's say.
So there it is. It seems to be fast becoming a tradition that a new year brings a new blog for me. That does not bode well for me in a few year's time. I will need more hours in the day, or for them to have perfected human cloning. As both are quite doubtful, I think I will just have to vow that this is the last blog coming out of me.