Dear Loestrin 1.5/30,
You are way too strong for my fragile endocrine system, and you are seriously fucking up my mojo. I think we need to break up.
I am reading The Lovely Bones right now and wonder why it took me so long to get around to it. It’s incredible, and so captivating that I stayed up way too late last night reading it. I probably could have finished it, but practicality told me I should get some sleep. In some ways, it has been especially difficult to read at times, more so even than one might expect, because we have recently been so close to the deaths of teenagers ourselves that some of the sentiments expressed hit a little too close to home.
Up next I have Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, and after that I may give One Hundred Years of Solitude another shot. I can’t seem to make it through that one, even though I’ve owned it for a few years now. And no, I didn’t get it because of Oprah’s stupid book club. Incidentally, I was home with Ginny when Oprah announced that The Heart is a Lonely Hunter would be the next book on her list, and I immediately remembered how much I hated that book when I had to read it in high school. In looking at it on Amazon, though, it seems like something I would enjoy, and so I kind of feel like perhaps I need to read it again with an adult’s perspective.