Summer Reading: You can call me Oblonski... Count Oblonsky

Okay back to blogging. I’m currently in the middle of my finals. My year in Manchester finishes on Wednesday. There’s supposed to be a linking sentence here. A sentence that explains how I feel about this and why leaving is so relevant. But I think I’ll refrain from that today, I’m trying not to state the obvious.

This post is a little more directionless than the ones that came before it. Typically I play I giorni on repeat until I feel inspired enough.

New developments: Still single. Currently looking forward to my life of bachelorhood. I have come to the conclusion that coupledom is not for me. I will be content raising my siblings’ children or manipulating my parents into adopting another child. As my mum is currently one of my 3 followers I might as well be telling her this in a private conversation.

Summer reading list:
Anna Karenina
A street car named desire
The great Gatsby
Don Quixote
The importance of being earnest
The caretaker
A House Somewhere: Tales of life abroad

I love reading but the books listed above fill me with dread. It is not that they are not good - because they are! The authors are all world renowned and very well accomplished. However they are a far cry from the light hearted rubbish I crave (Sophie Kinsella, Jeffrey Archer). Just the other day I had a conversation with Henry about Jeffrey’s latest effort, The Sins of the Father. The book is a summary of everything that Jeffrey Archer has ever written. There’s a little bit of Kane and Abel, a lot of prisoner of birth, a dash of the first among equals all done with the flair of the Count of Monte Cristo. It is a delightful read, your eyes skim along the pages and your brain makes zero effort. I’m quite sure that while you read the book it is possible for half your brain to fall asleep. It won’t do so out of a lack of interest but simply out of a lack of activity.

Until next time peeps.

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