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I suspect all books from the '60s of having been written on hallucinogens

It's the coldest day in two years in Chicago. Which actually wouldn't be that bad, because last winter was eaaaasy, but it is in fact wrenchingly cold outside. "Oh, I shall wear knee socks and my long coat and my legs will be fine," said I. Noooo, Alice. Because halfway through my walk to work, I lost all feeling at the knees and thought I was developing frostbite (there's a frostbite warning and I have a susceptible mind). In my defense, the windchill is -15.

BUT ANYWAY. Books. Warm, cozy books, hopefully read with hot chocolate near a fireplace, or at the very least, a space heater.

Who told me to read Lost Magic? It was charming. All set in medieval times and quoting Chaucer. I like reading medievaly things because the people are all "And then I straightened my kirtle" and I am like "Ha-hah, I shall look that funny word up." Lost Magic taught me 'trencher.' Which is basically like a food tray you'd get at camp. P.S. It was also pretty much the original bread bowl.

Does everyone pretty much agree Jonathan Franzen is the worst? He wrote an essay on New York state in State by State that I VERY much enjoyed, but then everyone was hating on him for what he said about Twitter and then I started The Corrections, and it was all talking about "the nasal contention of a leaf blower, the the ripening of local apples in a paper bag, the smell of the gasoline with which Alfred Lambert had cleaned the paintbrush from his morning painting of the wicker love seat" and I was like


I've started The Last Unicorn, which is a movie I watched apparently a LOT as a kid, because every part seems super-familiar so far. I texted my brother "They passed down all the roads long ago, and the Red Bull ran close behind them and covered their footprints" and he IMMEDIATELY texted back "That movie is unsettling." 

But I think I secretly really loved it, for the book is bringing me much joy. For those of you unaware, there's a unicorn and she thinks she's the last (tah-daaah!) and she goes on a quest to find other unicorns, who might be (probably are) held prisoner by King Haggard and the Red Bull and on the way she encounters witches and wizards and harpies and singing butterflies. I'm pretty sure the guy who wrote it was high the entire time, but that is fine.

In conclusion:

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