Yesterday I joined a book club.

I don't really know why, because half way through my English literature degree I paused to ask The Lady of Shalott, who hung despairingly on my wall, "WHY AM I IN THIS MAJOR?? I AM THE SLOWEST READER THIS SIDE OF THE EQUATOR!!!" But I girded my loins and pressed forward and somehow finished it (cough cough www.sparknotes.com cough ahem). I really loved it, and I love reading (some books more the destination than the journey), but I never did well with reading combined with deadlines.

However, I feel that turning 26 last month rejuvenated my due date tolerance, and besides, what are club members going to do to me if I skip and read the last chapter before continuing on? (I admittedly do with some books... with a certain kind of book I have to know what sort of a return I'm going to get on my investment.)

So I'm glad I said I'll taste it, I'll give it a whirl, cause now I am a book clubby girl, uh-oh, I said I'll taste it, I'll give it a whirl, cause now I am a book clubby girl!

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