of course, her Google was shrinking

It's the first day of summer and I got out of bed at eleven. The big kick-off. Ta da. Roar.

(And a few lazy, but maybe satisfied but maybe bored yawns.)

After being out last night I had to stay up really late watching Top Gun, which turns out to be pure GENIUS filmmaking.

Filmy making. 

Film with a make out scene. How badly does whatshername not want to be kissing Tom Cruise. Hilarious.

I made this pact with myself that I couldn't buy any books until I finished a book and wow, that is hard.

And yet so easy. Because people like to give me books. Which included a book which is both on my summer TO DO and TO READ list:  Everyday Drinking by Kingsley Amis.

And then, there is the library. That isn't really breaking the rule, is it, checking books out of the library. In fact, it is quite admirable of me.

I am soooo civic minded and bookish and sexy, smart it is ridiculous.

What I got: Beautiful Children by Charles Bock and All the Sad Literary Men by Keith Gessen. The latter of which features a character named Keith who is sad and literary. It's witty. There are some good lines.

In between lovingly reading American Visions by Hughes, I'm dipping into the witty lines about the lives of sad, smart men.

It's good timing because in Hughes' masterpiece it's 1885 (the chapters are arranged chronologically) and Thomas Eakins has just completed his own masterpiece, Swimming. Oh my.

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