Despite the obvious daily rants you read on my blog, I am interested in things other than my relationship status and men. I love to read and clearly, I love to write. I gave up on buying books that I see at Barnes & Noble or Target long ago. Which is not to say I don't still enjoy a good jaunt down the isles for hours on end looking at the covers and peeking at the backs. Writing down a few titles to the ever-growing list of books I want to read in my notebook as I go along. I simply realized I want to read too many books too quickly so the local library is the more feasible and financially friendly route for me. Because of the plethora of books on my list, in which I'm not sure I'll live long enough to conquer, I've never been a fan of re-reading books as some of my friends do. With just one exception.
"An Italian Affair" by Laura Fraser. I am hopelessly in love with this travel memoir. Read it.
I check up on the author from time to time to see if she's written or in the process of writing another book (i.e. I stalk her).
She hasn't. She isn't. I'm disappointed. During my research today I came across an article she'd written recently, that again, reminded me why I love her so much. Her and I, we're a lot alike. I read a lot of myself in that article, specifically the last two paragraphs. Thought I'd share. Maybe, just maybe, you'll join me in stalking Ms. Fraser.