I emailed my father the link to my anonymous blog. His reply was:
“It was definitely the best beach-read I’ve ever had when not actually @ the beach.”
These are terms that grate and rattle. That might be because I don’t believe I have done any beach-reading, nor read any beach-reading books since I was 15, exploring my sexuality, and tore through 15 Sydney Sheldon and Daniel Steel books over the period of six days on a family vacation in Maui.
In fact, though I never thought of the connection, the only thing CLOSE to beach-reading I have done in recent years is “Are Men Necessary” by Maureen Dowd in Belize, June 2007.
I consciously steer clear of any book that could come close to being considered a beach-read, though milly often gives me her discarded ones, insisting that the act of reading it will relax me in a significant way and simultaneously not take up too much time (time that should be spent developing our intellects in important and purposeful ways).
I don’t have a PURPOSE for my BLOG. That’s on PURPOSE. I don’t know if it was because it was the weekend, or the fact that I enjoy beautiful flowers and fine dining is a significant part of my personality to be celebrated along with my more serious sides, but the first entries of this post apparently read as “beach-reading” to some.