lucky

I have been reading Lucky by Alice Sebold. I picked it up about a year ago and started reading it, but it was too hard to read, so after the first chapter I stopped. It's a personal account of her rape. It was really graphic and disturbing. When I was going through some boxes at home last month, I found it again. A new book with a bookmark towards the beginning. Just looked like yet another book that I stopped reading in the middle because I got bored. So I started over. Horribly disturbing but this time I kept reading. I'm halfway through, about 150 pages in. The thing is, I read before I go to bed, so it gives me anxiety and makes it hard to fall asleep. I think I'm going to stop reading it again. Haven't decided yet. I'm hoping it has some great advice or empowering victory at the end. How will I know if I don't finish it? I feel invested.

Last night I bought a book to read during my flight home for Christmas. I got Mitch Ablom's latest book - can't remember the name, but that should be an easy read. It's about a mother's love or something. I liked his first two books. They're so different from my world, so they feed my imagination.

mrs. sock went missing

it's been a tough few days for mr. sock. today when i went to pull out a pair of black socks to wear, mr. charcoal black sock informed me that his wife has gone missing. we're all a little worried, but hopefully she just went for a spin in the washing machine and will show up on her own.

i'm also having to deal with trinity (my infiniti) who is having a mid-life crisis ever since the costco tire guy told her she was going (gasp!) bald. i've promised to fix her up and take her to the spa for a good wash & wax, but i don't think she'll be happy until her new tires come in.

my camera is all peeved at me too because she heard me talking smack about her giving everyone red eyes and now she refuses to show anything except bright whiteness on her screen.

geez, is it a full moon or anything? at least tracker, my stuffed dog, continues to be loyal.

written revelations

i have 2 pages left in my journal. two beautiful blank pages. what profound moments will make me decide to fill those pages? i have kept written journals since 6th grade. completing a book and choosing the next one is significant. my current journal began in september of 2004. it begins, "I live in Boston now." for some reason, changing journals tends to correspond with changing phases of my life. this one would have corresponded, except that i avoided writing for a while. the july 06 changes were difficult, and writing is cathartic in a way for which i was not prepared, not ready to commit. it's good to be writing again, feeling things, facing things. i've had the next journal chosen for about 6 months now, so i'm looking forward to closing this book.