Oh right, I have a blog.
I would say I’m back from the wilderness, but the truth is I’m in the wilderness–if you consider the wilderness a cabin with all kinds of modern amenities and a wifi hotspot.
Since I last wrote, I left London, flew to DC to interview for a job I didn’t get (spoiler alert!), flew to Texas, hugged my family and picked up my car, drove to LA, graduated from USC, drove to Portland then middle-of-nowhere Washington, did Sasquatch, drove back to LA, worked a 10-week internship at Morning Edition at NPR West, went to weddings in Cleveland, Nashville and finally Quechee, Vermont, where I hugged my family again and then traveled with them to an undisclosed location in the Northern Adirondacks. It’s totally not a secret, but it’s way more fun to say “undisclosed location.” Waiting for me there was my dog Pivo, and my heart felt full once more.
And now I blog. That’s what Thoreau was always on about, right?
Besides writing, when I’m lucky enough to be here, I also read. I spent a good chunk of the summer learning about all kinds of wonderful books and movies through NPR interviews and compiled a massive to-read/watch list. Someone tell me why, then, I can’t put down the third Game of Thrones book. Full dorkdom revealed.
I also read some in London, and in a total rip-off of the brilliant Jen Andrews, I thought I’d just leave little tidbits of reviews for the books I’ve read this year.
This is how I prefer to read–under a tree at Downton Abbey.
Note, Jen reads a lot more than I do, but she’s way smarter than I am, and you have to take into consideration that I lost about a month on the second Game of Thrones book because it’s really long (and I won’t bother reviewing it here because you’ve all obviously already seen the TV show) AND I watched the entire Sopranos series (not one season, the entire series) in an unhealthily condensed amount of time. No reading was happening then. But way back in January, when I was again enjoying cabin time, it was.
Reviews after the jump, in the order that I read them.