Well, it’s been a while, but since I have no readers ;) I doubt anyone missed me.
I recently signed up on GoodReads, which is one of those proliferating social networking sites. This one is based on books and—you guessed it—reading. Back in the days of my sproghood, I was a truly voracious reader. I devoured books like junk food, and most were just as junky. Loads of romance novel drivel, run-of-the-mill fantasy (Piers Anthony? David Eddings?), and mystery/thrillers by 3-novels-a-year authors. Interspersed with some true gems, of course, all of which I spent this week obsessively listing onto that website. The list is hovering around 800 and growing (those are only the ones I still remember and liked). So by my estimates, I probably read around 3,000 books in the past 10 years. Pretty impressive, eh? Even if I do say so myself, until I saw the most voracious reader listing at 18,250 books!!! Where do they find the time? Do they do nothing else? Oh well. If anyone is interested, you can find me here.
I recently signed up on GoodReads, which is one of those proliferating social networking sites. This one is based on books and—you guessed it—reading. Back in the days of my sproghood, I was a truly voracious reader. I devoured books like junk food, and most were just as junky. Loads of romance novel drivel, run-of-the-mill fantasy (Piers Anthony? David Eddings?), and mystery/thrillers by 3-novels-a-year authors. Interspersed with some true gems, of course, all of which I spent this week obsessively listing onto that website. The list is hovering around 800 and growing (those are only the ones I still remember and liked). So by my estimates, I probably read around 3,000 books in the past 10 years. Pretty impressive, eh? Even if I do say so myself, until I saw the most voracious reader listing at 18,250 books!!! Where do they find the time? Do they do nothing else? Oh well. If anyone is interested, you can find me here.
The Cherry Blossom Festival. 04.05.2008
Anyways, DC is turning all the loveliest shades of green. A while ago, I attended the Cherry Blossom Festival at its opening. Their exhuberant flowering looked like puffs of cotton candy, so deliciously enticing against the pure blue sky, creamy white or faintly tinged with pink. Two weeks later, even the last stray petals have vanished into the earth.
What is it about beauty like this, that it cannot last? Keats, you are wrong!
