I am a hermit crab

There, I said it.

In the few weeks since Christmas, I have been getting to know the four walls of my bedroom pretty well. Not since I was 13 and received the entire back catalogue of Virginia Andrews books have I spent so much time in bed reading. At the time, I remember I devoured the family saga that culminated with "The Flowers in the Attic" and then spiralled out of control into the biggest load of crap anyone's ever read. But that summer was a special case. Since then, I've received one or two books for Christmas, which have kept me bed-ridden for perhaps a week at most. So here I am nearly a month after Christmas and I've done so much bed-bound reading that I'm going to have to re-introduce myself to society some time very soon, before I forget all the social dos and donts.

Take this weekend just gone, for instance. I finished 2 books - not thin ones, either. I completed "The Crimson Petal and the White" (ye olde softe porne from Ole London Towne) and "A Year in the Merde" (debunking much of the misty myth of Paris and revealing it to be a pretty tough town).

Well what else was I going to do? Watch the Tsunami Benefit concert? The networks brought together the biggest morons on all three TV stations, then put them on the same show screened on all three major networks! ARGH it was like Godzilla - no escape. Music was good though, AND they raised $20 million for their troubles. Kudos to the morons, for sure.

So I retreated into the world of literature, and explored London and Paris. It meant that I didn't have to tart myself up for a night in the reality of Adelaide but this little hermit crab quite enjoyed the peace and quiet, to be honest.