Reading

I have a lot of stuff that I want to write about.  I keep trying to put pen to paper, or actually fingers to keys.  I keep starting and stopping, unhappy with where my words are taking me (or really taking you, my loyal readers).  I probably should quit self-editing and just open the flood gates...

I want to tell you about why I've been so bad about blogging lately.  I have composed several "in response to the oil spill" posts.  There may even be an upcoming post entitled "Bitch Face" on the horizon (my dear Amy, if you are reading this,  I have documentation of mine and am ready to out it to the world), I even want to just share some pictures of our recent goings on, but I haven't...  It's the first item in the list that's holding me back.

I've just been feeling kind of like this lately...

Not sad (much), not lonely, maybe a little alone and very much apart (as in disconnected, not as in falling).  Maybe I'm suffering from some sort of weird SAD (seasonal affective disorder) due to our lack of seasons and am trying to gear up for summer (and Price's SECOND birthday) in a place that is summery year-round and doesn't really seem to change from month to month (except for how often we have to mow- and by we, I mean Don-due to our current dry spell) ...  I don't know.  But I haven't been cooking much or well or interesting, and thanks to the stupid Housewives of NY and NJ, my love affair with bad reality TV has grown by leaps and bounds.

But, I'm getting back where I belong, I'm deciding that it's better to be alone rather than in the midst of groups that make me feel lonely.  I'm drawing lines in the sand with some things and trying to hold strong.  I've been really good about going to the gym and am feeling stronger physically.  I'm taking on some projects around the house.  And, thanks to my rejuvenating trip to Palau, I've started reading again.  It seems like since Price was born (almost two years ago- that is CRAZY to me), I only read in fits and spurts.  Which is unusual for me, I used to always have at least 2 books going at pretty much any given time.  But once the little man arrived on the scene, it was rare for me to make find the time to read (you know since I was busy watching Real Housewives).  Anyway, I knew I needed some books to take to Palau and since the base library is small and has a limited selection of options, I broke down and bought a book at the BX, which has an even smaller selection of books (allegedly there are 2 real bookstores in Guam, I have seen 1 and wasn't impressed enough to walk in and I just forget about the other one, plus when one waits until the last minute to procure said books, it doesn't work to drive more than 5 minutes to get them).  So anyway, I perused my options in the paperback section and settled on one by an author that I had never read before, but the jacket info looked interesting and it was set at the beach. I also borrowed one from the library to have as a back up, by an author I have read many times who writes easy, perfect for the beach chick-lit.  Of course the mindless chick lit book, Last Chance Saloon by Marian Keyes, won out and I read it and never even opened my purchased book the whole time I was gone.

Shortly after returning from my get away, a series of awkward, enlightening, unpleasant, demoralizing, self-esteem crushing social situations piled on top of each other and started me on my path of feeling disconnected.  So, I retreated into my land of fiction and found comfort in books.  A place I have always been able to hide my head and not have to worry about what I think other people think about me, where I don't have to talk and put my foot in my mouth. I can just read (during stolen moments) and tune out the rest of the world (yes, I realize as I type this, that perhaps retreating to fictionland does not help me connect to other people).  I started my new book, I was a little apprehensive about it because I knew nothing about the author, I wasn't sure I was going to be engaged, I wanted to be entertained, but I didn't want to have it all figured out by page 30.  I began reading Tracey Chevalier's (she wrote Girl With a Pearl Earring) Remarkable Creatures.  I was hooked!  It was such a good story, based on real people (I didn't realize this until the end of the novel).  I liked it so much, that before I was finished, I went to the library in hopes that they would at least have Girl With a Pearl Earring, which they did and they also had The Virgin Blue.  I liked all three of them, they are all historical fiction with heavy art references (really just the latter two have the heavy art references).  I say liked because in the span of three weeks, I have read all three of them.  Again, I am seeing that burying my head in books for three weeks is not conducive to a lot of productivity....

Anyway, now I'm bookless again and looking for something else to read.  I've read 6 books this year (I guess when I put it like that, it's not too bad it averages out to one a month)- The Help- AMAZING!  still the #1 I've read so far this year, The Postmistress- totally not a fan, and then the four I just read.  What are you reading?  Any suggestions??