the one my sister gave me.

My sister reads this blog.  Occasionally.  And I don't think she'd be offended if I said that I was cooler than her.  Remember, cool is relative, folks.  (We're talking Woodbury cool, not Mpls cool).

Meaning:
I know that Hunter boots are the new Uggs. 
I know that pie is the new macaroon.  Cupcakes were so last decade.
I'm more of an Anthropologie sale rack versus a Loft gal.
I know that Natalie Portman is the IT girl of 2011.

And with books, I usually have the one up.  But my sister has now taken over.

I just read The Most Beautiful Book in the World by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt.  It was one of our Christmas trades that my sister wrapped up and passed on.  The Most Beautiful Book is an international bestseller in Europe and a compilation of eight novellas about happiness.  The premise, basically, that happiness is often right in front of our eyes although we may frequently be blind to it.

I gobbled this book up. Because it was fantastical, short and fundamentally cool.  And so is my sis.