I read a lot. But I find that my reading has really dwindled since I moved in with my bf, since when I read, I pretty much have to go hole myself up in the bedroom -- no music, no TV.

And, yo, he has high-speed wireless! DUDE. I've been pirating neighbor's unWPA'd internet for three years, with varying rates of success.

And cable, but really, I'm home all day during the day and have turned it on maybe 3 times in the last few months. (This might be a different story if we had HBO or Showtime.)

I'd say I average about 400 books a year. Combo of genre to heavy -- I'm a ho.

I don't know that I read a lot - I read often, but it might be just a couple of pages before I go to sleep or while I'm waiting somewhere, and i might have to read the same couple of pages several times because I have somehow forgotten what was going on, or where I was in the book, or both. It eventually adds up to a whole book, but how many books a year I can't estimate. And it could be anything but it's generally paperback murder mysteries. They're like potato chips. I'm reading one right now, in between posting.

Okay, tomorrow, in addition to wearing a corset and lipstick, I'm going to start reading the book my sister sent me by a hot new Jamaican writer. I should also clean, but that's lower down on the list.

I am going to wear red lipstick around the house tomorrow. I tried some on at the store tonight, and it made me feel smarter.

Do NOT ask me why, I don't know.

Yeah, now that I walk to work I don't get nearly as much reading done (although I do get more regular exercise).

I'm glad I discovered the classic tales podcasts so I can at least catch up with old favorites (he does a lot of Poe, Conan Doyle, O. Henry, Stevenson) and discover new short stories by favorite authors.

The Monster at the End of this Book, read aloud to you by Lovable, Furry Old Grover:

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I love that book! And own it, with three or four year old me handwriting if my name inside, complete with backwards N. (er, clearly my given name and not my chosen one).

I do tend to read much less when (a) employed (b) in an office (c) in a non-travel job or if I'm (d) dating someone. (yes, sex and money are the two things I will give up books for. But it better be good sex and big money.)

I reread things a lot, which makes it hard to keep track. Right now I'm rereading Dead Romance because it's still new to me, and So Long & Thanks For All The Fish because it isn't, and I'm still working on The Book of the War because it's like an encyclopedia, and I've got a half-finished copy of The Third Policeman sitting on my bedroom floor that I should get back to at some point. I think that's everything that's in-progress, but I'm about due for another spree at the comic shop.

I need to find something sufficiently long and enjoyable to get me through my goddamned trip in Feb. Although maybe I'll go back to An Instance of the Fingerpost; I haven't read that in a few years. I still have Don Quixote and a few other books on my Palm as emergency backup.

Although maybe I'll go back to An Instance of the Fingerpost; I haven't read that in a few years.

This got me through an Italian train strike! I have fond memories of it.

I liked it a lot, and kept meaning to go back and work out all the overlapping timelines with who-thought-what-and-when.

I read it the first time while on a vacation, and finished it on the flight home, so it was exact right length. This is a longer trip but... well, I won't have as much free time. Whine.

I guess I should go sleep some more. How is it not Friday yet? This week has gone on forever.