I’ve read four books this year. Why am I letting my brain atrophy, you ask? There’s no acceptable reason, so I’ve made a list of the books I’m going to read through the end of the year. I’m looking forward to all of them, but mostly Travel Light, Move Fast by Alexandra Fuller.

Alexandra Fuller has become one of my favorite writers and I’m glad she has a new book! I hate it when I fall in love with an author and they stop writing. When I found Bill Bryson I greedily consumed every one of his books. Same with Peter Mayle, Caprice Crane, and Jen Lancaster (before she was unbearably obnoxious). And in the last few years, Alexandra Fuller. I still have a few books of hers that I have yet to read. I’m taking my time, though. I get sad when there are no more books to read by my favorite authors.

This morning I woke up really early to go to Target, and when I walked out of the door the humidity punched me in the face. I’ve been trying not to complain about the humidity because it makes my skin look plump and glowing and smooth with no effort. But it sucks for everything else. A couple of weeks ago I went to the apparel mart downtown and after finding parking, getting lost between the multiple buildings that make up the mart, shopping, then trying to find my parking spot I had to go home and shower again. In the middle of the day. The humidity is oppressive. Bring on October.

I did find some nice home decor items at the mart, though. I’m currently looking for a new desk, but I want to try buying a used one–or making one. My cousin is a natural with that kind of stuff and maybe I can get her to help. Or maybe her talent will rub off on me! Anyway, I went to Target this morning to see if they carried the robot mop. The Roomba vacuum is pretty life-changing, so I want the mop version, too. But it’s still relatively new, so I think I may wait until more versions have been released. Target didn’t have it anyway.

Okay, now I feel like I’m just rambling because I don’t really have that much to talk about! Next time I’ll let you know how I liked the book!

Bisous !

What I Did Do

I read four books this quarter. I didn’t even complete half of my goal of ten books. But, you know what I did do?

I hung out with my closest friends. I behaved like I was ten years old. I leaped off boats under a scorching sun and into cool waters. I made juvenile jokes and laughed at them myself. I drank Shiraz and woke up at eleven in the morning with pounding headaches. I drank champagne and woke up at eleven in the morning with pounding headaches. I drank rosé all day. I went to sleep when the sun came up. I forgot sunblock when I went stand-up paddle-boarding and didn’t worry once about crow’s feet. I made my friends laugh and got sore stomach muscles from laughing at their jokes. I skipped the mani and pedi. I spent twenty minutes on my winged eyeliner and eye shadow. I went four consecutive days without checking the news. I wore six-inch heels. I walked barefoot on wet grass and hot sand. I ate authentic Italian food and saw centuries-old art. I spoke in French. I cried. I volunteered. I committed. I swam at midnight. I ran at dawn. I test-drove a Lamborghini. I sailed a boat.

I did all the things you can’t do while you’re reading ten books.

Wine Ramblings

I just spent an hour and a half reviewing makeup on Sephora’s website. Turns out when I’ve had a glass or two (or three) of wine at 2pm in the afternoon, I really like to give my opinion on all the things. If you’re wondering, YSL’s Touche Eclat brightening pen did nothing for my under-eye circles after a night of drinking. Nothing.

Aside from that, I’m having quite a miserable day of unyielding allergy symptoms, and I’m torn on wanting April to pass to get rid of these allergies and wanting to remain in a month in Atlanta that isn’t unbearably hot. I don’t do well with sweltering weather and humidity. It’s bleak for me. But then again, I used to really like winter temperatures, and now I can’t even handle that. If I’m snowboarding or skiing–yes. If I’m minding my own business trying to get to work at 7am–no. Guys–just give me 65 degrees year-round, okay? I think that’s comfortable.

Oh, man. I’ve had so much wine that I don’t even know how I’ve reached the topic of weather. Onward.

At the top of the year, I made a goal to read forty books this year. That’s ten books per quarter. That seems ambitious, right? But that was after I talked myself down from fifty-two books for the year. One book per week. I mean, that’s pretty unrealistic, right? And then I had the argument with myself that I used to churn out book after book when I was ten years old. A book per day or every other day when I was in fifth grade. On summer break. This is how irrational the conversations I have with myself are. Like…I’m holding myself to practices I utilized when I was ten? Maybe I want to make sure I store my Barbies away really neatly, too.

Guys…I don’t have Barbies anymore. I also don’t have unlimited time to read books, though I’d like to! So forty per year is what I believe is a fair but challenging goal. Currently, I’m on my twelfth book: T is for Transformation by Shaun T. I love Shaun T. I wouldn’t say I’m a Stan. But I am a fan. See how good I am with the slang, still? Hashtag: young.

I typically don’t like books about people’s personal accounts of abuse and trauma. I still don’t. To be honest, I kinda skip the parts that are too heavy. I’m a lightweight about those things. I mean, it’s hard enough to deal with my own baggage and not become entirely hardened without reading about someone else’s. I consider this a personality flaw. I should be able to take in others’ life experiences without becoming angry or depressed, I think. Sometimes I’m able to. Other times…I’m working on it.

I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m reading Shaun T’s T is for Transformation, and I’m really inspired by it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

You know what’s weird? How you get really used to autocorrect while texting, and then you write on a blogging platform that doesn’t correct your mistakes. Apologies in advance. Maybe learn from my mistakes and don’t have three glasses of wine at lunch.