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Between the time classes finished (April 25) and now, I've been attempting to read new books.
One was "Having it and Eating it," by Sophie Dummant (sp?). It was okay, I wouldn't recommend it unless you have kids and are going through a pre-midlife crisis.
The second was "Manhattan Monologues." Louis Auchincloss wrote that--I very rarely feel so alienated by a book's contents that I can't complete it. This was about the rarefied world of affluent Manhattan during the pre-Depression era. It was the richer man's version of "The Great Gatsby," without the parties or intrigue.
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