One of my really good friends sent me a link to a blog called “Hot Guys Reading Books”, a quirky catalog of attractive men caught reading actual books (and yes, that does not include Playboy) in public. Just think about it for one second, and you’ll realize how revolutionary that is (If you’re interested, here’s the link: hotguysreadingbooks.tumblr.com).
It is so much hotter to find someone of the male species who you can converse on an equivalent literary level. Sure, it may be fun to hang with a guy who can recite The Hangover line by line, and a guy who goes into explicit detail how many different drinks he downed the night before makes for a good laugh later, but a literary connoisseur comes as a pleasant surprise in today’s world. True, women don’t want a genuine book-nerd, but who wouldn’t drool over a cultured male who—as shocking as it may seem—actually likes to read. When the general intrigue dies out, a man with sophisticated interests has more topics of discussion at hand that merely last Sunday’s football game.
Just something to think about.
For lack of a proper transition, here’s my head’s up that I’m switching the topic.
My favorite spot in my newly reorganized room is my bookshelf. That lovely piece of wooden furniture hadn’t been cleaned off in years (hence my overabundance of tween novels, including my collection of Meg Cabot books and various Sanrio memorabilia), and is now a sophisticated spot devoted to books ranging from Sherlock Holmes to novels by Sophie Kinsella and Karen Quinn to my all-time favorite, William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury. I’m actually quite proud of my interior design skills, as I have given that section of my room a Parisian feel, complete with two black Eiffel tower bookends and a pair of old gold candlesticks that I absolutely love.
I have quite some time before I get a Beauty-and-the-Beast-esque library, but I’m off on the right foot. Hey, a girl can dream.
And until then, it’s nice to know that my Beast may actually be literate.
xoxo e
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