Te toca a ti

I went to bars and the Biergarten this week and I did not drink. I'm good. I sort of feel like an idiot for praisning me because of that, but what the hell...
I think I need to read Thomas Pynchon. The problem is the immense number of pages most of his books have. Way too many for your impatient firend. I started to read the first few pages of his latest novel at work the other day. A collegue brought it. That's how I come across a lot of good reads lately. People bring them to work and I dive into them, get hooked and finally have to get them myself. It worked that way with "The chemestry of Death" by Samuel Beckett (which turned out thrilling mostly, but also a bit over the top. Too much twists and turns in the end. Oh well. It took me two afternoons to read it, that's fine I guess) and with a german book by Daniel Kehlmann, "Die Vermessung der Welt". It has been translated into a number of languages, I just don't know the english title. I got it, but did not really start it yet. It's on the pile. I have a pile. Books I dearly want to read once I'm back to my normal self, able to sit down with one thing for more than 34 seconds. I'm really yearning for that day.
Listen to Frank Turner. I would marry him if he would agree. He's "so much my type, it's not even funny!" as my friend Anna said. Apart from that: he is great. So is his music. Go get it.