I’ve been on a reading streak lately. I haven’t had much else to do, because I’m not swamped with homework yet. There is a tv in my room, but I’ve never been big on tv. Plus, it’s Brittany’s, and it’s not visible in my parts of the room (I feel awkward just sitting on her bed and watching it, even though she keeps saying that I can). I could check out one of the numerous movies from the library and watch it on my computer, but I don’t have the urge to. So I read. I’ve read Persuasion, by Jane Austen, The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield, Bloodsuckers, by Christopher Moore, and Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut. All of them were great books. Austen’s was sentimental, Setterfield’s was a mystery, Moore’s was hilarious, and Vonnegut’s was….well, hard to describe. So I had a nice range of emotions in my picks. I pulled On the Road, by Jack Kerouac, and The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, by Carson McCullers, out of the library. I’m hoping I can finish those two before there is too much work for me to do.