What are YOU reading?

I'm about halfway through the book "Night" - written by holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel years ago, but has just recently been re-translated (he originally penned the book in Yiddish) by his wife and has been featured on Oprah.

I've started "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion- which is also a book on death and dealing with death. I think. I'm not that far in to determine what the book is actually about.

And I'm reading "The Wedding" by Nicholas Sparks - which isn't about death. Phew! I was beginning to think I had a theme going.

I haven't finished any of them, but I can already tell that at 127 pages and subject matter that is so compelling I could (and probably will) weep - Night will be the first book I finish. Probably tonight. The imagery is shocking, but the book is well-written. Not feeling up to watching Schindler's List ever in my life, I'm surprised that I'm making my way through this book at all. I guess we'll see if I'm able to sleep tonight before I decide if this was a good idea. I tend to keep these kinds of tragic images with me for quite some time. I can't read most of what's in the paper any more. I just can't. I get depressed almost to the point of physical illness. I'm not sure what's wrong with me that makes me so empathetic or whatever that I simply can't let go of stories like this, or news stories about tragedy, or the "Sunday's Child" section of the paper. Is it my Catholic guilt that I'm not doing enough? Is it because secretly I would love to be in the peace corps or the red cross teaching English and providing medical care to underpriveleged children all over the world?

My boss just finished "America's Report Card" by John McNally...his friend since college and published author of several books/short stories. Scott is mentioned in the acknowledgements. I would like to start reading this as well. It's a funny horrible story about me and Mr. McNally. He was at Scott's wedding last year. My husband used to work with a man named Dan McNally. They were friends and I used to talk to him occasionally. So at Scott's reception, never having met his friend/author, I walk up and introduce myself saying "Aren't you Dan McNally" - and he has this look of horror on his face...and corrects me that his name is actually John. Oy. Open mouth and insert foot. I tried to defend myself that the mixup was because of my husband's co-worker, but the damage was done. Brilliant Rebecca, simply brilliant. And then Scott tells me later that John does not forgive or forget such things. Great. So now I'm the girl who has forever insulted him.

This is not the dumbest or most embarrassing thing I've ever done.
But it's close.