I would recommend

These books:

First, Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier.  I bought it a few weeks ago and read, or should I say consumed it, in about three days.  It's beautifully written, with poetic language and yummy imagery and has a juciy twist ending that I honestly would never have been able to guess myself.  I love a story that takes me by surprise.  It's reminiscent of Jane Eyre with its gothic tone and mystery, which is fine by me pretty much always.

Second, Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt. This one I'm still working on.  It's a completely different era and feel than Rebecca.  My brain had to travel from the early 1900's with a twenty-something narrator to the 1980's with a narrator who's still in high school. It took me a while to adjust, but I really love it so far.  Though, I have a feeling it's going to make me cry at some point, and I'm not sure I'm prepared.

I found both of these books in an online book club I joined called The Perks of Being a Book Addict on Goodreads.com.  It's really nice because you get great book recommendations but aren't obligated to go to any meetings or talk or do anything at all!  A book club for lazy people.  Feel free to join!

This movie:

Austenland

I do not remember the last time I laughed so loud in a movie theater.  Maybe it was because I went with one of those friends who's totally fine with whispering and giggling and annoying everyone around you for the whole entire movie.  But seriously.  Hilarious.  I will own this movie and watch it over and over again anytime I need a pick-me-up.  But do your husband/man friend a favor and don't make him watch it with you.  I think that may be considered a form of torture.

This Song:

R U Mine? By the Arctic Monkeys.  Because, yes.

it's Friday.

I'm not sure how to rid myself of the ever-streaming thought in my mind that my presence and/or very existence is boring everyone around me to death.  I'm not sure how to negotiate between my natural preference of being alone, and the need to not be lonely.  I'm having trouble sifting through and sorting out which things about me are actual things about me, and not just warped, rotted interiors that need to be renovated.

You know?

Anyway.

It would be a good idea,  I think, for you to venture on over to What Would Nora Ephron Do?  Courtney Kearns has become somewhat of a word hero of mine in the past few months, and I feel morally obligated to share her brilliance.  Plus, her blog is named after the woman who brought us Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail and Julie & Julia.  She obviously knows what's up.

She writes about things like booty shorts, being single, awkward first dates, and the fun of kissing boys who she has no intention of marrying.  What is better than that.

"Here's to being bad at life and writing like it's all on purpose."

Amen.

worth sharing, I thought.

We're well on our way to my favorite season.  Where the leaves undress and the air breathes clarity into my mind.  That's my word for Fall - Clarity.

Summer is Life.  Spring is Hope.  Winter, I named her Haze.  Because that's all I feel during those dark months.  And I just can't shake it until the sun comes back.

As we prepare to say farewell to Summer once again, things can get a little depressing.  Even with promises of apple spice candles and jack o' lanterns.  Trading swim suits for sweaters has always been generally bittersweet for me.  And so I decided to share an article with you, as sort of a way to bottle up all of the bright and shiny happiness we've collected from our days in the sun.

10 Simple Things You Can Do That Will Make You Happier, Backed By Science.  Find it here.  It seems a little redundant at first glance, but I read it this morning and was amazed by some of the content.

For example, did you know that our relationships with others are worth more than $100,000 in terms of life satisfaction?  Or that sleep-deprivation causes our brains to be more able to recollect negative memories and less able to recall positive ones?  Neither did I.

It really doesn't matter.

Sometimes I get to thinking about what I'm capable of.  About that ever-itching word, potential.  I've always disliked it, because it made me tired.  It's an exhausting word.  But sometimes I wonder about what I could have done, if I had woken up earlier.  Not literally, just in a general sort of way.  Though literally waking up earlier most likely would have helped me out as well.

You see, I spent the first 18 years of my life walking around in a stupor.

What makes me any different from the people I admire?  I have hands, just like them.  Only, they use their hands to write beautiful music and inspiring books. They use their hands to perform life-saving surgeries or to pull themselves up to the summit of...Mount Kilimanjaro or something ridiculous like that.  I use mine for browsing the internet at my desk job and driving straight back home at the end of the day.

I have a mind, just like them.  A perfectly good and capable mind.  Only, they use theirs to carry out plans to make miracles happen.  I mostly just dream of the weekend.  That time when I get to sit at home instead of sitting at work.

But I've got taxes to pay and a mortgage to gain.  So it looks like I'll be here a while.

Last night, we saw Deep Sea Diver and Telekinesis.  I would recommend them both, if you're at all concerned about that.

Like I said, it doesn't matter.  I'm being silly.  It's fine.

I would recommend.

This book:

I read it over the weekend.  There is something about the Holocaust and WWII era that I tend to be both drawn to and deeply disturbed by.  These are things that actually happened, in our world, committed by our same human race.  All I can think is, Why, why, why, why, why?  But I keep studying it because of the inspiring strength of the people that lived it.  Yes, if you asked, I would recommend this book.

This show:

 Words really can't describe or do it any justice.  My latest obsession.  We just finished the second season, and the third is only being filmed right now.  What am I supposed to do until January?  Also, the actor who plays Sherlock is named Benedict Cumberbatch. If that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will.  That name could not be more English if it tried.   If you asked, I would most certainly recommend this show.

This musician: 

Seriously though.  Go buy his album.  Then get in your car.  Roll the windows down, and blast it.  You can't tell me that, at this point, your life won't be at least 9.5 times better than it was pre-Jake Bugg.  If you asked, I would recommend these British-folk tunes.

Oh, and I guest-posted at the lovely Shelby's blog.  I guess I should have mentioned that.