So I’ve finally figured out my obsession with trashy romances. Well, one reason among many anyway. Other than the fact that I am a hopeless romantic (and if you tell anyone I’ll kill you and eat you so as to leave no evidence) trashy romance novels don’t move me to do…well, anything.

When I finish a romance I don’t feel like I’ve been a part of something great—like I’ve just read a story that everybody simply must read. I’m entertained and rejuvenated (in the midst of the semester one needs to read something that doesn’t require much mental work on her part) but certainly not motivated.

Perhaps I should explain. I just read Fray, a graphic novel by Joss Whedon. Before I continue I must proclaim, “Damn you Joss Whedon!” There, I feel a little bit better. Anyway, the point of the story is that this is an amazing tale. Set in the future of the “slayer” world (think Buffy) it simply captivates the reader. It moves you. But, more importantly, I read it and I think “I can write like that. I can tell stories like this. I need to write like this. I need to get off my ass and make my mark.”

Yeah, don’t have that problem after reading a rousing rendition of girl meets completely unacceptable guy who, after much illicit sex, finally admits he loves her following a near death experience on her part, live happily ever after and have many babies. Oh, and said unacceptable guy (read bad-boy with heart of gold) is also loaded. In all the necessary areas. It’s a good time, but not exactly life changing.

So, do you read the stuff that teaches you, motivates you, moves you? Or do you stick with the trashy romances? I’m going to go with both, but I thought I would share my epiphany with you all. I mean, it’s always good to know why it is one behaves the way one does. The more you know about yourself the better off you are going to be. At least, that’s been my experience. I always seem to get heartburn when I repress too much.

My body hates me.

Hmm..so do I have anything of actual worth to impart to you all tonight? Absolutely not. I just wanted another excuse to talk about hot, rich, well-endowed guys. See, I really am shallow. It’s my cross to bear.