Surprise, surprise, all of the snow has melted just days before Christmas here in Chicago. Not that I even like snow, but it's really the principle of the thing. And of course Christmas has brought me a throat ache this year. The throat doesn't bother me too much, but its the medicine that's supposed to make it better. Regardless of the non-drowsy formulas, the reflection of my head gets larger and larger in the computer screen as I nod off. Deep down, though, getting sick is always nice in a few ways. You get an excuse to sit on your ass and watch TV without feeling judged, and sleep until noon without having the covers ripped off by siblings/loved ones.
To relax this week and put the bustle of Christmas shopping behind me, I've started a Dan Brown novel that isn't the Da Vinci Code (forgive me, I don't know the title). Dan Brown isn't dazzling me with his rhetorical prowess, but I'm sure it will be mindlessly entertaining. I'm not sure what it was about Dan Brown's books that make them hard to put down; my friends would always point out that the writing was rivaled by those little blurbs in LL Bean catalogues. Maybe something about reading makes you feel less worthless than watching the sequel to xXx on TNT (you know who you are).
Note the picture of Vin Diesel with the tag line, "a new breed of secret agent." Call me crazy but there isn't a whole lot of anonymity surrounding a 6 foot tall bald guy covered in tattoos leaving a wake of dead bodies in his path. But then again I'm sure it was a high octane thriller...
