I'm proud of this country, what we stand for and our unwavering need to remain true to it.
I wouldn't live anywhere else.

Occasionally, I come upon a book that will touch or tickle me in such a way that I will revisit it, although I admit that scenario is a rare thing. The Thorn Birds, The Stand, Stephen R. Donaldson�s first eight books and now this one; I fear the list is getting longer than I had originally anticipated when I first started hoarding these books in my little packrat mind. Since the age of three I�ve been a voracious reader, often times having more than one book on the go simultaneously. I�ve mentioned this before, but I think it bears repeating here: I actually have a report card from public school that stated I read too much. Truthfully, I wasn�t reading the great classics back then, but I would have thought any kid who would rather stick her nose in a book than engage in classroom horseplay would be held up as a role model, not chastised for her antisocial behaviour. You could accuse me of many things, but being antisocial was definitely not one of them.

What prompted you to add this particular tome to your list, you might well be thinking. Or not, I have no idea how your mind works, dear reader. I�ll tell you anyhow: she does such a great job of writing about forbidden love. I ache all over again for the main character, Olympia. The first time I read this book, I was recovering from my Surgery of Incredible Pain. The lovely surprise is that the anesthetic took a couple of weeks to wear off, so I remember little of the middle of the book. It�s like I�m reading parts of it for the first time! I also remember losing my mind as I realized the book was coming to an end and not wanting to bid farewell to dear Olympia. It was at that time I began restricting my reading to three pages a day. I suspect now, looking back, that I am quite clearly mad, for these are not the actions of a person who is in their right mind.

Love your books, people. Books are your friends. Friends that will not drink all your booze or leave you high and dry at a restaurant when they get an unexpected booty call just as the appetizers are being served. They will not neglect to tell you the blouse you just bought because it was on sale and you loved it had a bloody great snag in the lower back that you didn�t see and now you can�t return it. No, books are good friends who will sit quietly on your shelves, gathering dust and not even complain about your vile housekeeping skills. Books dole out their information in doses just large (or small) enough for your brain to handle. They revel in your need to have them around; they exist to enable.

Some don�t even mind living in the washroom, which is saying something.

Posted at 4:42 p.m.