I did something wrong today.
I was bored and needing something to read. Something light and slightly trashy. Not trashy-in-a-bad-way, but trashy-in-an-easy-read-way. Something light and entertaining. I'm reading Anna Karenina (Tolstoy is genius!), but it is a little heavy for my mood of the moment.
Confession time: I might have resurrected a Twilight book. You know, the ones that I used to enjoy before they became famous, before all the hype. I'm not ashamed of this. I was desperate. However, the glitter was lost to my enlightened eyes (sorry for the pathetic reference, my dear die hard Twilight fans).
But this is not the worst of it. The worst of it is that I, not wanting anyone to see me carrying around a vampire book by Stephanie Meyers, might possibly have taken the cover off of Anna and placed it over the black and red ribbons of Eclipse. I have sullied one of the greatest Russian authors. I am shamed beyond recognition, for this is a sin for which there is no forgiveness. Please do not shun me forever.