Ever since I realized that I’ve been averaging LESS THAN ONE MEASLY BOOK A MONTH (I’m trying to read 100 total — 50 I’ve read before, 50 I haven’t — before The Project ends), I’m happy to report that I’ve shaken myself out of apathy and into action. I’m up to three previously read and 13 never-read books, bringing myself to a grand total of 16/100. Which, you know, brings me to an average of slightly more than one measly book a month. If I speed up much more, I’ll spin out of control and either wind up dead in a ditch or in the emergency room! *laugh track*
BUT SERIOUSLY. I finished Summer Sisters last night. Apparently, I missed out on some major rite of passage for teenage girls growing up in the late ’90s by not reading this; amazingly, I survived the transgression long enough to read it now, and I’m glad I did, if for no other reason than the fact that the next time I’m at a party discussing the finer points of Judy Blume’s career, I can be honest and say that the last Judy Blume book I read was not Freckle Juice (which, until last night, it was). Not that reading Jessi’s well-worn copy last month didn’t blow my mind, because it totally did, but. Yeah.
Hey, guess what? I’m going to the beach next weekend.
Tags: books, judy blume, reading, summer, summer reading
