The Vagina Monologues and other books

In the time that I’ve been out of blogland, my birthday happened. And it was a very nice birthday; I am now 20, and will not get funny looks for procreating.
Not that I intend to procreate just yet.

The nice thing was that my birthday entailed lots and lots of books. Lots.

So instead of writing, I’ve been reading:

1 – The Vagina Monologues – Eve Ensler.
Read this. Everybody should read this. I’m lending it to J because it contains some of those things that we need to know. Such as the fact that the clitoris has around twice as many nerve fibres as a penis – more than anywhere else in the body, male or female. Not only is that a useful thing to know, it’s also very nice!

2 – Bachelor Girl – Betty Israel.
I picked this up on my birthday holiday in a little sleepy town with a remarkably big bookshop. Wall to wall bookshelves on four levels, and half a shelf somewhere in the middle labeled Feminism. I was happy. And the book is one of those books that needs to be read quietly. It’s focussed on American women, but that doesn’t make it any less interesting or relevant. Just different.

3 – Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade – Guy Browning.
Because you’ve got to have some fun in life and laughing out loud on a train, scaring the man sitting opposite you always counts.

I have a few others still to go, which is nice. But I keep lending them to people – just as well really as my bookcase is small and I suspect that to accommodate my growing collection, if they were all there, I’d need to buy another one.

Also, I don’t like Reading.
It is Guildford, only squashed a bit flatter. And it’s Guildford – and therefore London – prices.
I’m not becoming a student for that.

So I rather suspect that I will be heading North in October.

Hopefully more regular posts now that life has settled down a bit, but with my sister stealing my laptop to ‘revise’ for her A-levels, using that ever popular medium of Facebook, who knows?

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