Bitten By Vampiric Sheeple
or, So Lonely I Wish the People Could Stay Underwater
I have no intention of giving in and joining the ever-growing ranks who are reading Twilight Saga. I have no interest and any inkling of interest I had was slain by the sheer volume of requests I receive daily about these books. It is too much. And that is a common relationship I have with books. Once an author or title reaches uber-popular status, I lose all notions of reading them. This silliness has kept me from reading Christopher Moore, Chuck Palahniuk, Augusten Burroughs, and even the latest David Sedaris book. George R. R. Martin, Robert Jordan, Robert Ludlum, and Ian Fleming all make a similar list, but it is the subject matter I really don’t care for. I’ve only recently decided that it is okay to read Harry Potter and His Dark Materials books, but I’ll still keep it a bit quiet when I do. I don’t really know why that is, but I recognize that it is a bit silly.
Perhaps the best thing to do in this situation is to list all the authors who I am only avoiding because of their ridiculous popularity and read one title by each and be done with it. They do have to be popular for a reason, right? Although, that is the same sort of illogic that could get me into some trouble, if I was to start reading Janet Evanovich or J.D. Robb (Nora Roberts). I’ll just try to not make that sort of mistake.
Meanwhile, as they say*, I’ve finished The Monsters of Templeton. It is amazingly well written. I’d pretty much recommend it to anyone. I did find that on those nights when I was really sleepy, but not so much to fall asleep, and I would try to read a chapter of Lauren Groff’s book, I would easily get confused or lost in her genealogical trek. By the end, there were a few ends that were tied up in surprising ways (for me). That didn’t make the book any less enjoyable. Far from it.
*”meanwhile, as they say…” is uttered by Julia Child during one of shows. Makes me smile.Continue Reading

Summer reappeared briefly (I assume). It was a beautiful July 31, all of which I spent at work. Even during my lunch, I stayed inside enjoying soup I hoped would chase away the cold I’m desperately trying to not get. Thanks to the pusher at work today who slipped me a Mucinex D. It was a glorious hour of medicine-head bliss, perhaps the best hour of my day.
It is December 20th, the shortest day of the year. In places like Fairbanks and Barrow, this is a much bigger deal than it is here in Anchorage, but our days are short enough. The sun will rise at 10:14 and will set at 3:42. To make matters darker, today will be a cloudy day. And actually, that is quite alright with me. Clouds mean warmer air — relief from the negative numbers is far more important to me at the moment than relief from the darkness. As I write this, it is -8° outside. That is the lowest I recall so far this year, but it has hardly been much warmer for several days.

I am currently reading The Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson. I have read it a number of times before… Bill Bryson is such an excellent writer. This time around, the book seems to have rekindled my love of words (I had hardly noticed my interest had waned). It is almost enough to make me continue my education and get a real degree. Almost.