redzils proved that she has a piece of the brain cell this weekend. She grabbed a couple of random books off her shelves that she thought I would like to loan me on her way out the door; two of the three, I'd already read (Something Rotten and Gods in Alabama; the later is even more amusing, because it's not a Joyce-normal book, but I liked it quite a bit.) Then, we were sitting around comparing our used book store hauls, and she said "Here, have you read this, it's a sequel to Under the Tuscon Sun" and I allowed that I'd read under and hadn't much cared for it, but that I liked travel writing in general, and she said that she especially had a thing for France, and I said "Oh, really, have you read Almost French -" and she finished with "by Sarah Turnbull? Yes, loved it."
My brain cell is currently five different ways. Maybe that explains why I've been so ditzy lately. :)