You know those conversations you have sometimes, with a friend or a relative maybe, who’s just met some great guy, and can’t stop gushing about him?  You know, stuff like, “Oh, he’s absolutely perfect for me!” Or maybe even, “He’s my soul mate. We’re just meant to be together!” Or yes, possibly even, “He made me waffles this morning!  Without me even asking!”

And midway through, you’re kind of like, “Oh, I’m really happy for you honey, but…how many more chapters is this going to go on for?”

Well, that’s what one might think if you were me reading Love is a Mixtape by Rob Sheffield.  The book is about him meeting his wife, both of them total music geeks, and falling in love.  Oh, and then she dies.  So I do feel kind of guilty about my desire to vomit, after several chapters of googly-eyed OMIGOD, IT”S LOVE! prose.  But what can I say, I’m old and bitter and single – how else am I supposed to react?

Oh, and I’m also perplexed by the author’s strong dislike of the 90s band Belly.  To quote page 4 (almost shipped it off to Bookmooch at this early stage but controlled myself) “This band blows homeless goats.” Whaaa?  I’m sorry but Belly was one shit-kicking band.  I know this because I have 2 of their albums (were these their only albums maybe?), “Star” and “King” and I still actually listen to them, even now.  Anyways, anyone who’s heard the song “Judas My Heart” would not say that they blow homeless goats is all I can say.

Despite these setbacks, I’m halfway done with this book, and I fully intend to finish it.

I don’t know, maybe by the end, he’ll realize how awesome Belly really is.