Random Non-Fiction

One of my favorite things to do is to lay in bed and read fiction. It's an image of contentment and cozy security while my mind goes on a vacation filled with adventure. I think that I must have inherited this combination of homebody-ness and desire for interesting quests and challenges from my parents who were both afraid and boldly brave at the same time. They did amazing things but despite all their love they somehow failed to instill that intrepid confidence in me. I think I could have learned it if I had kept up judo class or some other martial arts. But I remember getting hit hard in the chest (forming boob area) by a boy in the class and got really turned off by the whole thing.