I Went to the D.M.V.

I think I should write a novel about going to the D.M.V. Maybe 128 pages. I was there about 7 minutes so that should fill up 128 pages. I mean if you heard the panic in my head.

I got rid of a license plate that no longer has a car.

Then Lee took me to a bigger thrift store and we both had fun. He found the best kid's book (pop-up Halloween) as he always does and I found some good books worth a lot more than the store realizes they are worth. I usually do that.

I bought James Frey's drug memoir Oprah Book Club book just because I needed something to read while Lee went in Walmart. And I read about the first twenty pages of that because it's such a quick read. He writes sentences that are five words long and all very common words.

The style suits the subject matter (being nearly dead because of a dozen addictions at once) and I like the book so far.

Later, I'll want to know which parts he lied about that got Oprah so mad at him for a while.

But not as mad (I don't think) as she got at Jonathan Frantzen but that was snobbery and not just lying, and snobbery is usually much worse than lying unless the lying's about something like murder or causes someone to die or lose their ego.

I love the cover of Frey's book.

It is iconic. Or something. Maybe something.

It brings home the idea that addictions are like candy. And they are.

Oh, we also went into a dollar store. And I got pretty solar lights for the front yard that were a buck apiece!

And in the book section I found a small book by Francesca Lia Block that I never read before (love her!) and a collection of short stories (hardcover) by an author I don't know but who looks promising by the blurb (he allegedly writes like a bunch of other authors I love).

I've been wanting a good collection of good short fiction to read. These are excellent in a hot bathtub--one to three stories per sitting.