coquetterie

I know. I know. I’m a very bad girl for not writing or posting or saying anything. I offer no words for my defense. I kept up. I read your blogs and commented occassionally. I needed a break from the blog-o-sphere.

What have I been doing? I assure you, with some great sadness, that it is nothing sexually scintillating or titillating. Although, it does involve me cuddled up in bed, beneath a cover. I am alone during these adventures. It doesn’t really bother me; it’s just annoying like an itch that is just out of reach.

And, no, I haven’t been ill. I shall dispell that myth straight away. I’m perfectly healthy, save for not getting enough sleep. Thank goodness my vice of late goes well with sitting in bed.

Reading took control of my life. Devouring books is the vice to which I’ve been alluding. Genres do not matter. Interesting premises, topics or reviews draw me in. I’ve read everything from classic Gothic novels to novellas to social satire to teen dramas.

A few of the books that I’ve leafed through, in no particular order:

• Northanger Abbey — Jane Austen
• Austenland — Shannon Hale
• King Dork — Frank Portman
• The Handmaid’s Tale — Margaret Atwood
• Catherine the Great — Virginia Rounding
• Twilight — Stephanie Meyers
• Eclipse  – Stephanie Meyers
• New Moon  – Stephanie Meyers
• In the beginning…Was the command line — Neil Stephenson
• The Uncommon Reader A Novella — Alan Bennett
• Assorted works from Oscar Wilde
• Assorted works from Edith Wharton
• Assorted summer romance novels (wickedly predictable to the point of being put down on the side table)

And, all the while composing and editing this post, I’ve been listening to Katy Perry’s I kissed a girl.

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