On Whale Island: Notes from a Place I Never Meant to Leave by Daniel Hays

Date Started: November 29, 2015

Date Finished: December 5, 2015

Book Acquisition: Stolen from Mother a million years ago

Overall Rating: 3.5/5

On Whale Island used to be my desert island book but I think it isn't anymore. The writing was a bit pretentious and rambling and while I love a good ramble it wasn't totally for me. The only part of the book I still loved is where Daniel describes his love for his wife as "teenage stomach love bubbles". Those bubbles are the best. 

I read the majority of this book while sitting next to Johnny as he read another book. I've never sat and read with an other before and it was even better than I thought it could be. He makes me the quietest I've ever felt. 

I need to get better about update these as soon as I finish the book - otherwise I don't end up with anything to say! 

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed

Date Started: November 39, 2015 9:43 pm

Date Finished: November 10, 2015 1:51 am

Book Acquisition: Borrowed from Mother

Overall Rating: 4/5

A letter to my mother.

Wums,

First of all, how dare you? Secondly, HOW DARE YOU.

Love,

Daughter

EDIT 12/28

This book wrecked me emotionally. Her mother dies at about the age I am now and she's lost so she wanders the Pacific Crest Trail. I spent the whole book leaking sad tears because the author kept saying how unfair it was that her mother died of lung cancer, that her mother had never even smoked a cigarette. WILL MY MOTHER DIE?? WILL I DIE BECAUSE I AM A DIRTY SMOKER?? 

Elon Musk: Tesla, SpaceX, and the Quest for a Fantastic Future by Ashlee Vance

Date Started: October 22, 2015

Date Finished: October 25, 2015

Book Acquisition: Borrowed from Topher

Overall Rating: 3.5/5

I borrowed this book from Chris was I was visiting just after my birthday in June and then it literally sat on the same bookshelf, collecting dust, until the day I flew back out to California in October. I wanted to return it but I didn't want to give it back without reading it because I'd flown that motherfucker across the country twice and I WAS NOT ABOUT TO BE DEFEATED. I honestly wasn't that interested in it the book or Elon Musk when I started but I quickly became riveted. The man is a genius, obviously. I don't have a whole lot to say about the book, so I'm going to whittle this post down into three thoughts.

1. Dating/marrying a billionaire genius has always been a goal of mine...until I read this book. I would hate to be attached to some one that obsessed with work and perfection (as I think most self-made billionaire geniuses probably are). I may have to scale back to having my ideal man as a very smart millionare, just to be realistic.

2. Space is FUCKING AWESOME. Reading this book, right after the Martian has really made my spend a surprisingly large amount of time thinking about space. My new favorite question to ask people is whether they like to go to Mars, the moon, or just orbit Earth. My answer is orbit Earth. I don't think I'd actually enjoy the years long mission to Mars (and it's many risks) and I don't think that a moon missions is necessary to me to get everything that I want out of a visit to space. Orbiting Earth would allow me to fulfill most of my criteria for "ideal space mission". 

1. be in space 
2. see Earth from space
3. be weightless

Mom pointed out that the moon has the added bonus of being able to bound around in weightlessness and while she does make a GREAT point, I think I'd still take the orbiting. Statistically, you're most likely to come back from orbiting than you are from the either two. Additionally, I feel like the the training to go to the Moon (or Mars) even as a nonscientist/tourist would be RIDICULOUS. I don't want to make space exploration my whole life (mostly because of my fear of heights and being untethered) so I'd be miserable training after the first couple exciting days of training.

3. Somewhere in the last fifty or so pages of the book, the author mentions a study where some expert says he believes that the last forty years of our history have represented a "technological plateau" and all the cool things we've done (smartphones, medical advances) have been the technology equivalent of "low-hanging fruit." That thought has REALLY been fucking me up because it kind of makes sense. Medically we haven't done anything as cool as antibiotics literally since antibiotics. We haven't cured cancer, or even made that many super awesome vaccines (like the polio vaccine). We sent men to the goddamn moon in a spaceship who's whole computing power is less than my $10 Star Wars watch. Like, what the fuck guys? Let's get out science on! Let's fund some more cool shit! Or, even, let's stop getting in the way of people like Elon Musk who are doing cool shit!

In summary...science! Fuck yeah! 

The Martian by Andy Weir

Date Started: October 3, 2015

Date Finished: October 6, 2015

Book Acquisition: Borrowed from Daniel

Overall Rating: 4/5

So  I actually forgot that I read the Martian until after I'd posted about Little Women so that's why this is out of order (whoops). 

I watched The Martian movie with Daniel and about five minutes in I decided that I needed to read the book immediately. Like nearly walked out of the theater to find the book instead. Blessedly, Daniel had previously purchased the book so I was patient and started it the next day. I really loved it. Really, really, loved it. It was funny and clever and the science was actually super interesting. But the thing that I liked best about the book was the fact that Mark Watney wasn't a some tragic character, defined by the people he left behind. He was strong and inventive for his own sake, not because he needed to get home to wife/kids. 

I really feel like in these "left behind" sort of books it sometimes feels like the lesson is that people's value (and worthiness of rescue) is truly based on their relationships (who they leave behind) and I hate that. Mother thinks that's ridiculous but I've been feeling like every damn book and movie and television show in my life is inundated with romantic nonsense. (I won't say drivel because my god do those books/movies/shows wreck me in very non-drivel-ish ways.) 

I think I like Mark Watney as single unit because I've been feeling like I'm defined by my relationships. I wish people (specifically my father and his family) would ask me about my job or my interests, not just my fucking boyfriend. And I don't count the passe "oh how's work?" I want the "how do you feel about the new ridiculous level of responsibility you've been handed?" or "what new books are you reading?"

Life's not good because I have a boyfriend. Life is good because I kick ass at my job. Life is good because I'm excited about it. 

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Date Started: October 8, 2015
Date Finished: October 12, 2015
Book Acquisition: Literally could not tell you...nearly two decades ago.
Overall Rating: 4.5/5

Beth died on the plane. I feel like I should publicly apologize to woman in seat 36B because I cannot imagine that the constant sniffling and generous dripping of tears onto the tray table made her 6 AM flight relaxing. Really the entire books has made me leaked slow tears (some sweet, some sad). The poor flight attendants on both my flights kept offering me tissues and napkins to comfort me. Clearly they’ve never read Little Women BECAUSE THERE IS NO BEING COMFORTED. I was hesitant to reread this book because while I’ve always loved it, I remember being literally appalled that Laurie ended up with Amy when he was very clearly meant for Jo. One of the best parts of the book is Laurie and Jo’s friendship and nonsense and it seems like they would have romped together splendidly for the rest of time.

Blessedly, this time I was not so offended. Admittedly, Jo rejecting Laurie made me cry a small pail of tears (also on the plane this morning) but it seems like the rational thing to do, honestly. Marmee said to Jo at some point that Laurie and Jo wouldn’t suit because they’re too chaotic together and I think that really struck me as wise this time around. Additionally, I am now in possession of a male best friend myself and that has VASTLY changed my perspective. Daniel and I have romped and been silly for many years but we would be HORRENDOUS in a relationship. Since we’re not in a relationship we’re able to be less annoyed by things that would, personally, make me murder a significant other (Daniel’s yo-yo diets and workaholic tendacies, my inability to confine my belongings to any reasonable space and need to possess ALL THE ANIMALS). As Daniel is less likely to trend to killing another person, I would probably just drive him to his own death, really.

With Jo and Laurie not a reasonable coupling, I guess it made sense to pair him up with Amy. He needed to be kept in the family, Beth was dead, and the Meg/John coupling is literally too perfect to imagine any other way. Any sense of wronged schoolyard justice I felt (Amy the brat being fabulously rich and happy) largely melted away in the last two pages of the book where it was revealed that Amy had her own sickly little Beth. CUE THE WATERWORKS, PEOPLE.

Another reason I felt less angry and the Laurie/Jo loss is because Bhaer makes me SO DAMN HAPPY. SO DAMN HAPPY. HE IS THE PERFECT MAN. I don’t know if it’s my ovaries going out of control or what but the fact that he so loves children and plays all the silly children games just gets to me. Really gets to me. And when he comes to visit and he and Jo are so awkward and weird I just GAH. Plus, I think Bhaer represents Jo’s complimentary chaos. It seems so obvious to Adult Allison how it’s possible to have good and bad chaos combinations but Younger Allison really felt that Bhaer unnecessarily tames Jo. Younger Allison was so wrong about that and many other thing.

The problem with reading my favorite books from childhood is that I compare the current boyfriend to the hero of my books. Thomas got broken up with because he wasn’t Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables. I’m feeling very antsy about Kyle because he’s not Bhaer. Why are there not Gilberts or Bhaers, damnit?! And where is the romantic hero of my own life? How will I know when/if he gets here?! Motherfucking adulthood bullshit.

Growing Up Amish: A Memoir by Ira Wragler

Date Started: July 24, 2015
Date Finished: July 25, 2015
Book Acquisition: Carrollton Book Exchange
Overall Rating: 2/5

I was all hyped for this book but it turned out to be very boring. More frustratingly, I was left with a billion questions about the Mennonites and Amish so I may have to purchase some books on the topic. Maybe they will be more interesting. The writer was moderately engaging but it was still pretty meh. Perhaps the constant soul-searching is what bothered me? I really don't like to read homilies and that was I swear the entire last twenty pages. 

I mentioned to Will that I was annoyed with the preachiness of the book and he's so taken to calling me a heathen (much like my mother). It's said almost with affection though, so I'll take it. In any case, it's much better than when he calls me 'baby'. Baby feels infantilizing and makes my skin crawl and I know he doesn't mean it that way but I hate it so damn much. Bruce suggested I beat the baby out of him but I think that's a little drastic. He's not a person who expresses emotion (or affection) really ever and I like affection from him so it seems like shutting him down over this relatively minor issue would be counterproductive. When he gets very whiskey drunk he calls me his darlin' and I much prefer that. 

Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman

Date Started: July 17, 2015
Date Finished: July 20, 2015
Book Acquisition: Borrowed from Will
Overall Rating: 4/5

Apparently I mostly read on planes this summer. Started it while traveling to Texas, finished it the day after returning. I did have to reread most of the parts I read while on the return flight, though, as I didn't sober up until I was somewhere over Alabama.

Anyways, here are a couple standout quotes from the book...

1. "It always fascinated my that the people who liked George Strait and Billy Ray Cyrus were equally enamored with linear, highly structured dance choreography that offered no spontaneity whatsoever. Line dancing reminds me of the way Great Britain used to fight land wars." (
2. "how to properly fire an employee...concede that you've both made mistakes, but stoically admit that you can't fire yourself."
3. “Thomas Jefferson is, hands down, the coolest president in American history. Now, this is not because he wrote the Declaration of Independence, although I will concede that has merit; Thomas Jefferson is history’s coolest president because of the advice he gave to Meriwether Lewis and William Clark before they explored the Northwest Territory in 1804. One of the many things that Jefferson warned Lewis and Clark about was mastodons. "You dudes need to watch out for potential mastodon herds,” he told them (I’m paraphrasing). “If you see any mastodons, make sure you tell me about them, because I need to know.” Tragically mastodons had become extinct 10,000 years before the expedition started. However, this is still solid advice. I mean, I’m taking the same path Lewis and Clark took (more or less), but nobody told me to watch out for mastodons. Where is the love?"

I also learned that a man named Gutzon Borglum is responsible for both Stone Mountain and Mount Rushmore.

Overall, I liked this book enormously. I read Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs a couple months back and now I just love Chuck. He is incredibly self-centered but in an amusing way. I think that's partially because I like his writing style and partially because he's so damn unapologetic about his vanity. This entire book is framed around his relationships with women (past, present, and imaginary), which seems highly relate-able. It's easy to obsess about relationships. Although, honestly, I'm finding it easier to not obsess about my relationship with Will than I thought it would be. Perhaps there was some benefit to my many months of alone time post-Thomas? Or maybe it's because I didn't expect to end up in a relationship with him? Whatever the reason, I'm quite glad I did stumble into this relationship. Will kisses me with such purpose. Purpose might not be the right word, but there's something about the way he kisses me that makes me wonder if I've ever been well kissed in my life. Even those bullshit goodbye kisses on Monday morning (when it's early and I'm generally hungover and always mad that he gets to sleep for a thousand more hours) he manages to rouse himself enough to kiss me in a way that makes me want to crawl back into bed and not sleep.

Sereste & Ruth by Wild and Trish Mbanga

Date Started: July 11, 2015
Date Finished: July 12, 2015
Book Acquisition: Purchased after reading Whatever You Do, Don't Run: True Tales of a Botswana Safari Guide by Peter Allison
Overall Rating: 3/5

This book is not a sophisticated history of the famous couple. It was clearly well researched, but it also was ineptly written. Literature snottiness aside, I really enjoyed this book. Sereste and Ruth were a remarkable couple and reading about the formation of modern Botswana was surprisingly interesting. I don't tend to gravitate to African history, honestly. I think in school I actually subbed out my African History requirement for one of the Middle Eastern classes.

A couple years ago I did read a book called Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness that was the author's account of growing up in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, Malawi, and Zambia at about the same time that Botswana came into existence. I would totally go back and reread that right now because I'd be interested to see what it says about Botswana but some asshole kept the book in a bad breakup (fuck you, Montana).

Anyways, I don't have a lot to say about this book. It was good, I liked it.

Side note: I've done a poor job of updating this blog (and even reading) recently. The last book I finished, before this one, was read on the plane back from visiting Chris and Rachael. Then like eleven seconds later they were out here for a visit so I've been pretty busy. And I got that boyfriend thing happening which occupies the Sundays I used to spend reading. He did just lend me a Chuck Klosterman book, though, and I am super looking forward to it. Maybe that will be next? I did just purchase The Far Pavilions but I had completely forgotten that the damn thing is literally a thousand pages long and the print is super fucking small.

Back Sheep by Georgette Heyer

Date Started: June 21, 2015
Date Finished: June 21, 2015
Book Acquisition: Acquired for my by Aunt Vicki
Overall Rating: 5/5

I am willing to blanket statement that this is the one of the best Georgette Heyer's out there. I would have said it ranks in the top five, but now I'm having trouble believing that. Definitely top ten, maybe? In no particular order, at off the top of my head:

Allison Top Ten Georgette Heyer Books (maybe, it's hard to say)

1. Venetia
2. The Reluctant Widow
3. Faro's Daughter
4. The Grand Sophy
5. Devil's Cub
6. Frederica
7. Regency Buck
8. Sylvester, or the Wicked Uncle
9. Bath Tangle
10. Black Sheep

Ugh, wait. That list is impossible. But Georgette Heyer will creep up again and again this year so there is time to revisit. My Aunt Vicki has spent some time and effort tracking down used Georgette Heyer books so that I can have my own library (a Myers girls tradition). It's made me feel like an adult to have my own copies of these books instead of having to constantly borrow them from Mother.

The common thread in my top ten is that they're all actual adult women being taken seriously and autonomous individuals, as apposed to being nineteen and flighty and dear god, I cannot tell you how it annoys me to read those books now. Nineteen year olds are too quick to give up their autonomy to the authority of random men in her world. Ugh. The worst.

I somehow hadn't read Black Sheep before even though I've been reading Georgette Heyer books for nearly fifteen years and have completely worn out multiple copies of Venetia with constant re-readings. I liked it enormously. I like their relationship. Five stars all around.

Whatever You Do, Don't Run: True Tales of a Botswana Safari Guide by Peter Allison

Date Started: June 17, 2015
Date Finished: June 17, 2015
Book Acquisition: Carrollton Book Exchange
Overall Rating: 3/5

I'm sitting on a plane en route to the California. My flight was delayed, then delayed again, then hastily boarded so we could sit on the tarmac in a line of planes as orderly as any elementary school class on the way to lunch. This book made the delays and the literal hours spent in security seem really pretty okay. It was light, and interesting, and very endearing read about (you guessed it) a safari guide's experience in the African Bush.

Favorite Parts:

1. The introduction of Dick, an atrocious but much loved vehicle. It reminded my very forcibly of Richard Hammond's love for Oliver in the Top Gear Botswana Special. 
2. The (true) love story between Sir Sereste Khama (one of the founding fathers of Botswana) and his English wife, Ruth. I hope I have a marriage as obviously devoted as theirs. I was so impressed by them in fact that I've just purchased a book about their lives. 
3. At some point, when Allison was going something he was sure would kill him he thought he tombstone would need to read, "HERE LIES PETER ALLISON. HE WAS RIDICULOUS." (186) Even if I die very normally, I want a similar inscription. I love being ridiculous. I think it's one of my better qualities.  
4. Allison's descriptions of "Bird Nerds" (and his eventual descent into those same ranks.

"My perception was that people who watched birds wore funny clothes and had poor hygiene. They has beards (even the women) with bits of food stuck in them. Bird-watching was close kin to the dirty perversions of stamp collections and crocheting cushion covers." (124)

Eventually Allison says, "I am on those people, I thought, and it didn't seem such a bad thing after all." (127)

THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL ABOUT MY MOTHER'S CLAN. In the last couple months  I have taken up the much loved Myers' pastime of  gardening and embraced my love of counting birds. I have generally been marginally interesting in bird, and birding, but my family is borderline nonsensical in their birding quest. My grandparents have spent small fortunes chasing birds across the world.

For this last Christmas I requested a small bird feeder to stick to my window in the hopes of distracting my cats from their more destructive pursuits. Mother got me a feeder just like her own, well frequented feeder, and super high quality seeds. I set it up at a prominent window and waited. To date it's been up for nearly six months and I've literally never had a damn bird come visit. Not a single. fucking. bird.

Somehow this rejection has fueled me. Every couple months I move the feeder to a new window and hope for a visitor. In the meantime, I've started making lists and tallying the birds that visit the yard (but not the feeder). I have a pair of cardinals, the occasional blue birds and blue jays, and packs of robins (mostly in the front). The lists were the final straw, really, "I am on those people, I thought, and it didn't seem such a bad thing after all."

The Wolf of Wall Street by Jordan Belfort

Date Started: June 6, 2015

Date Finished: June 7, 2015

Book Acquisition: Cobb County Library Book Sale, Spring 2015

Overall Rating: 3/5

The Wolf of Wall Street confirmed my deep suspicion that I could never be a drug addict. I’ve enjoyed dabbling, certainly, but to spend that many YEARS out of control seems like a metric shit ton of work. Honestly the whole book was similarly exhausting. JB’s life (or rather, the decade chronicled in this book) was a wild and ridiculous romp. I’m currently coming off a week long birthday-bender and even that’s been draining to me. I almost don’t have the motivation to go get hammered tonight. I will obviously (because I’m not a little bitch), but I’m longing for the days of exercise and sobriety and a marginally clean house. Instead I’ve got piles of random things on every surface, and I HIKED STONE MOUNTAIN FUCKING HAMMERED. WHY DID I FEEL THE NEED TO BE HAMMERED FOR THAT EVEN?! I CHUGGED BEERS (WITH AN S) IN THE PARKING LOT BEFORE HIKING.

Any who, the book is delightfully written, and totally worth reading, but I don’t really have a lot to say about it. The high points were the general malarkey, obviously, and JB's relationship with the Duchess. I don't know what it says about me that I love wildly toxic couples but I'm a million percent sure that it's nothing good. Either way, I’m happy I’m not business mad, and vaguely pleased that I don’t have zillions of dollars to throw around. I’m certain I’d be even more hideously self-centered and ridiculous if either of those were the case. 

Atonement by Ian McEwan

Date Started: June 6, 2015

Date Finished: June 6, 2015

Book Acquisition: Cobb County Library Book Sale, Spring 2015

Overall Rating: 3/5

I've read Atonement before, on some airplane a decade or more ago. I don't remember anything from the first reading except that the book was grossly melodramatic and that I sobbed through the ending, attempting to blow my nose on those tiny airplane cocktail napkins.

I picked this book today because I wanted something heavy and beautiful and far away from here and now. And I got that in droves. However, I think my favorite part wasn't the drama, or the intrigue, or the heartbreak (both the characters' and my own). The best part was how delightfully bored every one was before before the Big Dramatic Thing happened. There's a particular quote I wrote down that I think defines it perfectly. "...he made himself think about time, about his great hoard, the luxury of an unspent fortune. He had never before felt so self-consciously young, nor experienced such appetite, such impatience for the story to begin." (86)

PREACH IT, ROBBIE. 

Lately, I've been feeling so damn oppressed by this very happy, if boring, life I'm living. I have a well-paying job that I generally enjoy, three little fuzzy creatures that adore me, a garden with buckets of nearly ripe vegetables, and Daniel and I just bought a Wii. But there's something about turning twenty-five that makes me think I shouldn't take so much joy in these little moment. Perhaps the little moments are making me complacent enough that I'm going to miss out on the big moments - the moments that drive the plot in my life's story. 

I've been working very hard the last couple months at not comparing my life with anyone else's life, but it's been hard to do. I see people I knew from school traveling the world or settling in other countries and I get this hot, angry knot in my stomach. Why didn't I do that earlier? Why did I get cats, a dog, debt? My job has lulled me into the delicious comfort of having enough money to do literally almost whatever I want, so leaving that for something uncertain seems ludicrous. Even the fucking tomato plants feel like a weight. I've named them, loved them, how could I just leave? The other end of the spectrum also makes the angry, jealous knot appear. I see friends with husbands and intentional babies and I feel like I'm behind. I feel like I'm missing out on all this time with the love of my life, because I haven't found the stupid jerk yet. There are so many shared adventures we're missing out on! 

I'm just sitting here, in the middle of those extremes, trudging along. 

The book's melodrama was clearly contagious - this post is far more self-pitying than I meant it to be. I think I'll have to balance it out with something ridiculous. Perhaps it's time to re-read some more Christopher Moore.

EDIT: I spent the half hour after finishing this book sighing and banging around dishes so the world could hear my displeasure. Daniel wasn't home so the claterring was a largely pointless exercise but it made me feel hugely better. Then I went to the symphony and had a delightful tiny adventure and it made me feel perfectly content with the small moments of happiness.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

I re-read the Count of Monte Cristo a few months ago. It was one of my favorite books in middle and high school and I haven’t read it in seven plus years so I figured it was time.

Allison’s Three Most Frequent Exclamations While Re-reading the Count of Monte Cristo:

1. OMG DUDE GET OVER ITTTTTTTT.

2. Holy shit, that’s fucked up. Wooowww. That’s truly fucked up.

3. OMG SHE IS LIKE A THOUSAND YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU AND YOU RAISED HER, THIS IS SO GROSS.

You may have surmised that I didn’t love the Count as much as I did before. I really could not figure out why homeboy could not just get the fuck over himself and go off and live with his fabulous wealth. (Perhaps my mother saying “the best revenge is a life well lived” made an impact on me after all.) I also could not understand why he was so set on ruining the lives of the CHILDREN of the people who had ruined his. I know he changed his mind later and helped (most of) his enemies’ children live happily ever after, but seriously, Edmund Dantés was a sadistic prick.

Lastly, let’s talk about Haydée. For those of you who haven’t read The C of MC recently I’ll give a brief synopsis of how Haydée comes into the Count’s life. Haydée was sold into slavery after her father (a Turkish pasha) was assassinated by political rivals. The Count purchased her out of slavery when she’s twelve (as part of his extended revenge plan) and then raises her, alternately calling her his slave and his daughter (sometimes both at once). Then she falls in love with him and says creepy things like “I love you as one loves a father, a brother, a husband.” At the end of the book they run away together to start a new life (leaving behind a trail of dead (and dead inside)).  I have some issues with this plot line. Besides the serious case of Stockholm Syndrome, the Count is like fifty and SHE IS A TEENAGER WITH PRETTY CLEAR DADDY ISSUES.

My visceral reaction to re-reading a previously MUCH loved classic made me seriously wonder how I could be so infatuated with such a weird and dark fucking book ten years ago. I wanted to go back in time and ask past- Allison, “Why did you like this?! How did this appeal to you?! What is wrong with you?!” But I couldn’t because no one has shared the secret of time travel with me yet. Furthermore, because I never kept any sort of journal, I couldn’t even begin to recreate my thoughts and feelings at that time in my life (which is maybe for the best, really). I remember thinking the whole book was this incredibly beautiful and tragic love story. And my best guess is that because I was eleven or twelve years old when I read it for the first time, being nineteen seemed incredibly grown up and perfectly old enough to be making decisions about running away with your many decades-older father figure/master.

The couple days I spent reading The Count of Monte Cristo this winter really made an impact on me. For one, it’s made me terrified to read The Three Musketeers, which I loved even more than The C of MC. What if d'Artagnan is as big a douche lord as the Count? I don’t know that I’d be able to recover, honestly. He is the archetype of my ideal man.

On a deeper level though, this excursion into the past made me think about my relationship with books and how they reflect my life. So I’ve decided to write about each book I read during my 25^th year. That way, I can theoretically come back and see this delicious snapshot of my life, as told by the books I read. I’m not sure how it’s going to flesh out yet, but I don’t turn twenty-five for two more weeks so I’ve got plenty of time.