I have no idea how I made it to 29 years old without ever reading Wuthering Heights.  Don’t they make you read that in high school?  I feel like if I was supposed to read it in high school I would have at least read Cliff’s Notes and therefore would have remembered plot lines or some such thing.

Otherwise, college.  In which case I was a huge slacker and much more interested in boys.  But I wasn’t an English Major either, so who knows if that was a requirement or not.

Regardless.  Never read it.  Felt I should.

People, this was a POOR decision.  The first one million pages was a snooze fest.  I had to bribe myself with chocolate and fun books to get through these chapters.  There was some interesting stuff in the middle and then people started dropping like flies.  And most of those people suck as people in the first place so when they died I felt the (fictional) world was better off without them.  And then two cousins get married.  The end.

I was very underwhelmed when I was done.  This was supposed to be some kind of amazing love story?

I’m sorry people from the 1800s.  Your love lives sucked.

And so did your source of entertainment.