My idea

of a delicious evening: hunkered down in bed, impregnably protected by my fortress of mismatched pillows, the low background rumbling of CNN to remind me I am not alone, a good glass of red, and my candy, my delicious candy. What kind of candy do I like to eat? Books.

That's correct, you heard me right. Books are my candy, and I eat them up; I gobble them. My happiest moments are when I am gazing dreamily at my TBR pile, which is perched atop my wobbly antique nightstand. (That's to-be-read pile, for you un-bookish-geeks.) On the floor below me sits another wonderful pile, seven hundred dollars worth of textbooks for my current load of 19 units -- yet unread, but beautiful to look at. On my thrift-store antique table-cum-desk is yet another pile: Best American Short Stories, Best American Poetry, Flannery O'Connor: The Complete Short Stories... the list is voluminous. The important part is that the mere sight of all these wonderful tomes and bibliothecae fills my belly with felicitous contentment and euphoric gladness.

Currently on my TBR pile include the new issues of The Atlantic, The New Yorker, and Harper's, and a pile o' books: Black, White and Jewish by Rebecca Walker, No Disrespect by Sister Souljah, Lost Lake: Stories by Mark Slouka, Permanent Visitors (Iowa Short Fiction Award) by Kevin Moffett (a signed copy!), and The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. Great writers, all. Tonight I am alternating between two books that I can't get enough of. First is The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I already noted in my post two days ago that Sylvia is one of my favorite poets, and why I'm reading The Bell Jar. So if you wanna know, then go read the post. The other book I am reading is The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood, by Nadine M. Rosin. Another amazing book, by a very intuitive writer and fellow pet-lover. The problem with this book is that I can't get through more than a few pages at a time before I'm bawling so frightfully that my eyes are too swollen to read another line. I just miss my dear sweet Lindie so much. Hopefully this book will help me heal and move to my next chapter, sans Lindie. I'll let you know when I finish the book.

This is when it's time to go refill my wine glass, take a pee break, and then start the process all over again. Excuse me, think I'll go read.