Yes, I am ONE THOUSAND years old...

I went to the used bookstore today to see if I could find anything good for the trip. Which, not so much. All the books at our used bookstore are old and not so good. Also, easily half the store is romance novels, historical romance novels at that. You walk in and are assaulted by the racks and racks of pinks and peaches and purples. It's kind of scary. It makes me wonder why the people who read romance novels seem to be partial to historical romance. Is it less cheesy that way? I would think it would be cheesier, like with people trying to write in period-appropriate dialogue and winding up sounding ridiculous and stilted. I don't know, I was just wondering. I did, however, find a few Christopher Pike books in the very back room and I totally bought two of them. I loved Christopher Pike books for a little while, somewhere between R.L. Stine and Stephen King. They didn't have my favorite one, which was Remember Me, although they did have Remember Me 2. So I bought Die Softly and The Lost Mind, neither of which have I read. I am a giant nerd. Lately I seem to have picked up a habit of saying that I am [insert random large number here, i.e. 100, 600] years old and like, really, really emphasizing the number. It's kind of weird. People keep not knowing what I am talking about and then I feel old, and then I say weird things.