And where has the week-end gone so far?

Besides walking around Bed, Bath and Beyond until my head was spinning?  And spending over three hours traveling to the bridal shower?  There was Diary.  I read it too far into the night last night; not stopping until my eyes were positively dried out from reading in front of the very necessary fan in my bedroom.  Finished it only a while ago.  Better than most Stephen King.  The perfect lazing around in the summer reading.  (If I still were at the beach all the time I would consider this a very smart, high quality beach read.  Ah, those beach days.  One eye on a book, the other on the kids. Typical idyllic Jaws type scene.  Without the shark.)

This all started with the copy of Lullaby that I found along the road.  I feel a bit guilty when I ravenously read fiction.  It seems frivolous; nonfiction is easier to justify to myself.  And now my heart belongs to two Chucks.