So I finished this book on the plane to San Diego last weekend, but since I’m so damn busy and important, I haven’t had a chance to post about it until now.

I just really didn’t like it that much.  Frankly, it seemed like a bunch of semi-random short stories bundled into one.  The book is about his relationship with his wife, and how music infused that relationship.  But only bits and pieces of that relationship come through to me.  And I don’t really care for the author’s taste in music either, so when he starts going off about the genius of Notorious B.I.G., I’m just not feelin’ it.

Thus far, this is my least favorite book of the challenge.

So maybe love is not a mixtape, at least for me.  In fact, I’ve always thought it was more like a bottle of gin….

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.