I cry at family dramas on TV. That’s one more thing you should know about me.
Brothers & Sisters amuses me very much. It gives me a feeling that dysfunctional families are normal families. They, the Walkers and their extensions, are even an insane bunch of people who are more outspoken and judgmental than my own family (although you would never believe what my other immediate relatives are capable of, pffft). I really missed Nora, Sarah, Kitty, Tommy, Kevin, Justin, Robert, Scotty, Julia, Rebecca, Saul, Holly, Paige, Cooper and Elizabeth (hmm, yeah, I think I got all of them, haha).
I watched the first two episodes of season three. It’s too early in the season to cry but I did. Sue me.
Because I am hormonal again, I think — I THINK — I just ordered around 30 books from abroad, split the delivery charge with four people, and just downloaded about 50 e-books. I don’t know what I’m trying to prove. Maybe there’s nothing I want to prove. I just want to be able to do something impractical and unconventional which would still appear like it’s, you know, ME. It’s typical of me to drown myself in books I would never read even if I take a year-long, uninterrupted reading break. Thirty books plus 50 electronic ones. To add to my literally more than a thousand scattered all over our rathole of an apartment (where only less than a fourth were read). I can already see the horrendously precious look on my mother’s face—although wait, I got her cookbooks on different cuisines and arts and crafts guidebooks. Nice strategy, eh?
The orders would potentialy complete my John le Carré and Ken Follett collections and guess what, it will also have The Gun Seller by Hugh fucking Laurie. That’s how amazing it was. And they would cost me only about $50, for all of them. How awesome’s that, dingbat?
I am so excited for them to arrive, I am about to cry. Hormones, hormones. Need a hug right now.