Oh! And an exercise in ridiculousness...

…to cure my sadness/sleeplessness/restlessness/and-whatever-else-ness. Current booklist:

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle b Barbara Kingsolver
Best American Political Writing 2005 ed Royce Flippin
Toast b Nigel Slater
The Forsyte Saga b John Galsworthy
On Truth b Harry G. Frankfurt
Essays of E.B. White b well, E.B. White

Also assorted stuff for classes and such, but let’s face it, I’ve spent about 16 years not reading what they assign me unless, or until, I deign it readable. And why do I always envy everyone else’s assigned-reading list? Saw a girl sauntering away from the campus Barnes & Noble the other day with Virginia Woolf, John Fowles, and James Joyce. I was already drooling, but if Waugh had been tucked in there somewhere, I might have outright swooned. Once, I even saw that some kindly professor had assigned Pat Barker’s Regeneration trilogy. ‘You lucky fucks,’ I thought to myself, ‘you don’t even know…’

Am stuck with Crashing the Gate and The Way to Win this time around. Bite-your-nails-with-worry-at-the-state-of-the-world-and-the-way-political-campaigns-are-run stuff. Have I mentioned I'm not good at the whole politics thing? Frankly, I think it's because I can't stomach it--though I might be making excuses here.

It’s a miracle I ever actually finish a book. Who wants to place bets on how long it takes me to slog through this most current list?