we totally meant to stay in last night.

really.

it was our neighbors’ fault – they lured us with tales of lobster bisque and chili. and then there was wine.

lots and lots of red wine.

this morning, my intern brought me coffee and i almost kissed her. sometimes interns are good, i think.

So in honor of jenny’s post yesterday, and because my brain feels like its been shot full of novocaine, I would like to know the WORST books everyone’s ever read. preferably ones you’ve pushed yourself to finish, but ones that you’ve given up on halfway through are also OK. I’ll start: I’m currently reading I Am Charlotte Simmons, by Tom Wolfe. It’s like a thousand pages long, and it’s so unfortunate that it couldn’t have been only a hundred because then I’d be done with it by now. Tom Wolfe is trying to encapsulate the collegiate experience of a small-town girl at a big-time university, and in doing so only proves that he is old. I’m on page three hundred-ish, and I will NOT give up, no matter how much his dialogue interjections make me want to pull out my fingernails and eat them.

I’m going invite shopping with my mom this afternoon, so this coffee better start working.

FAST.