WordPerv

I love to read. I devour books. I have floor-to-ceiling solid oak bookshelves that were custom built for my living room (oh how I will cry when I one day move from this house!) that are filled with books. Lately however I have been unable to find a book that captures my attention and I have started 3 different books in as many weeks only to put each on my nightstand and not pick it up again. I am getting frustrated especially since right now I could use the distraction of a good book. And despite the fact that I have these beautiful bookshelves – filled with books, many of them yet unread – none seem appealing to me.

To combat this need for an enticing book I picked up Satisfaction by Rae Lawrence, a book I read at least once a year. No, that’s not a typo - I read it at least once a year. It’s not the Great American Novel or even the Semi-Great American Novel. In fact, it’s a slightly trashy novel, but a 500-page slightly trashy novel. And I love it. It’s my guilty pleasure. It’s a book I can read and get sucked into every time, despite the fact that I’ve read it a dozen times already. Of course one of my friends is currently reading Emerson so I feel like a total schmuck admitting that I’m currently reading a trashy novel while he is reading what is probably considered one of the Greats. But will his be delicious enough to read again and again? I doubt it!

“A…marriage is a long story… It’s a continuum with moments of drama, periods of stupefying boredom. Passages of tremendous hope. Passages of resignation. One can never tell the story of a marriage. There’s no narrative that encompasses it. Even a daily diary wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know. Who thought what when. Who had what dreams. At the very least, a marriage is two intersecting stories, on of which we will never know.”

~From, A Wedding in December by Anita Shreve

I think, not only am I going to be inducted into the Nerd Hall of Fame, but they just may make me President of this ultra hip and cool club.

It is 7pm on a Friday night and I’m baking chocolate chip cookies. Does it get dorkier than this?! I posted about these cookies earlier (you can read it here), and you can find the recipe here, but neither of these things change the fact that I am 28 years old and baking cookies on a Friday night!! To make matters worse, I actually decided to make two batches of cookies – one with regular chocolate chips and one with dark chocolate chips. Hell, they should make me President of the Nerds, I certainly deserve it for admitting this online for all my friends to read. Sheesh.

Today I:

~Walked my dog 4 miles (and counting)

~Ran 5 miles

~Painted my guest room

~Had dinner with my parents

~And I’m on my way to my best friend’s house for her family’s annual Thanksgiving dessert contest.

Why do I feel so pathetic and alone? Happy Fucking Holidays. Let the heavy drinking begin.