after a week or two of being lazy, allowing myself to fall into a "phase" (there are two phases in my brain, simplistically, which can be turned on and off at will by the surroundings they're in - the "writing phase", where words flow willingly from fingers adept with a pen or a keyboard, and the more dormant, hibernating "reader phase," where the brain turns itself off to all other aspects of life in order to become fully engrossed in a book or series...there is a rarer "tv/movie phase," in which said brain becomes engrossed in a tv series or a movie about to come out, but after the writer's strike, this one comes about only on the weekends, when i can surreptitiously download my favorite show, "doctor who"). for the past week or so, i've been in the reader phase, gleefully getting lost in a series of young adult novels recommended to me by a 23-year-old friend. i won't mention the name of the series (yet), as it's sure to warrant much throwing of tomatoes at the stage and laughter from the peanut gallery, but it's the type of guilty pleasure i would have really enjoyed in high school - in fact, it's exactly the type of book i would have read back then. but like the spice girls, my nancy drew mysteries, and the strangely short and choppy haircut i got in 9th grade, it's a guilty pleasure that will remain in secret until i can laugh about it later.
what got me blogging today? oh yes, this article in "vanity fair" - sometimes, i have to (grudgingly) like christopher hitchens...
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