Today, I cracked the spine on my 7th book. I love the smell of new book. It is a combination of somthing new and old coming together in sweet satisfaction. "The read?" you may ask: none other than American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I'll let you know what I think of it when its complete.



Since I flew over the pond, vast amounts of time have so graciously been laid upon me. In college, I abhorded any sort of pleasurable reading, for who wants to read a book when you have an encyclopedia worth of reading per day. But now, I enjoy it to no end. Emersing yourself into a whole other universe or life is so intriguing to me. It helps me believe that if someone has enough imagination to cook up whole other universes, than there is hope for my puney brain yet.