Here is what I just finished reading: Her Last Death, by Susanna Sonnenberg. http://www.amazon.com/Her-Last-Death-Susanna-Sonnenberg/dp/0743291085 Loved it. I adore most writing that has a focus on a mother with NPD. Wonder why? There are a gizzillion of these memoirs out there, all dealing with mommy as a junkie, mental fuck up, alkie, and the like. There are generally not too, too many of just plain Mom was a teacher, but a shitfuck parent who did not care that my creepy father asked if I was fucking my BF in his buddy's car or was I fucking a herd of elephants? Not sure what the connection is, still, to this day. I get why people murder their parents. I do. Can I admit this? Well, I just did.

I want to be a blogger so much, I do, I do, I do. But my motivation is pretty terrible. I did not get this ridiculously low paying easy no status JOB and I have literally taken to my bed. I have been uploading too many novels onto my kindle, which is really Z's kindle, which means my ex husband slash sorta BF is paying for my reading habit.

Habit. Habits. Wanna talk about my habits? No? You make a good choice.

Here is another book that blew me away: The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll: The Search for Dare Wright. Written by Jean Nathan, fellow Lonley Doll enthusiast, the biography focusses on the author of the creepy (but breathtakingly gorgeous) and decidedly sexual picture books. The ones that feature the two vintage stuffies and the doll, Edith. The one where Edith tries to get on a real horse, that was the first book I pulled off a library shelf. It was an academic library, shared with the locals. Man, that moment triumphs over any wannabe junky moment of my life. I digress, and to get back to my point: the book is also about Dare's relationship with her mother.