Day One

So, here's the start of my blog. It's half six in the morning and due to my insomnia, instead of sleeping like most people, I'm on the Internet watching videos on youtube and starting a blog. This is in between checking my facebook, myspace, bebo and email addresses - three of them. I'm beginning to think that there's far too much Internet entertainment. I have three email addresses. It's madness. I know it's madness. But they each have a purpose. One is for the more serious emails and updates from my goodreads profile. One is for less serious emails and online gaming emails and the third is for family members and friends of the family. And then there's the social networking sites. Three of them and again, they're separated into groups, Friends from England, Friends from school and Friends that also know my brother. So in my mind this sort of, in a roundabout fashion, makes sense, what doesn't make sense is the amount of time that I spend playing games on facebook. It's like an addiction and more that half of the people I know share this addiction. But that's OK because there will always be someone to be my neighbour on farmville.
Although, I am talking breaks from the computer and TV (it's on for background noise, but it's Jeremy Kyle and I can't seem to stop myself from glancing up occasionally) to read. I nearly always have a book to read. Not reading is an alien concept to me and in my family makes me the exception not the rule. My dad can't focus long enough to read a whole book plus he's a slow reader and that's always put him off reading. But I've loaned him a book and with any luck he'll get at least half way through it. My brother has read Harry Potter 1 - 5 but owns Harry Potter 1 - 7 (1-6 actually belong to me but little brothers don't seem to let thing like actual ownership of the item get in the way of things they want) and Lord of the Rings but hasn't attempted it yet and will admit that he doesn't intend to. He thought his bookcase looked quite sparse and decided that while I was living in England, he'd take some of my books from my bookcase to fill his out. My mum is the worst though. She has four bookcases filled with books, again not all of them are actually hers but are in fact mine, but yet she won't read. In twenty-three years (my entire lifetime) I have never seen her lift a book and read it. She will read magazine articles occasionally but generally she flicks through the magazine with her eyes focused on the golf on the TV. My partner read before he met me but not half as much as he does now. My Sherrilyn Kenyon Dark-Hunter novel is yelling at me so I'm going to go and give it the attention it deserves.