Early this morning I finished my fifth John Grisham book, “The Client.” It was the longest book I’ve read, and it was by far the best. In the last pages of the book, the plot turned towards my own city: Phoenix. I closed the book and turned off the light. As I snuggled into my pillow, I couldn’t help but wonder if the characters from the book were living in my own neighborhood.

So far, I’ve been to every city he’s mentioned in the books: Memphis, New Orleans, Washington DC, Biloxi, Phoenix, New York, Rapid City, and Rockford. It’s exciting when I’m reading a book and all of a sudden the plot turns into the city that I happened to be in at the moment.

For years I only ready how-to or religious books, so it’s been fun to try something new and read novels. My newest goal is to start reading the top 100 books of all time. If I could read just twenty-five out of the hundred, people will think I am well-read and smart. I know this is vain for my to confess, but I figure I’d just get it out in the open and be done with it.

I will be 26-years-old in two days, and I am seeing how my archive of “cool things to know” builds each year. It’s all knowledge from having too much time and money. I know the vintage furniture market better than anyone I know. I have an impressive collection in my own home that pleases hipsters of all kinds.

When it’s time to leave my swank house for something to eat, I know the best restaurants in every part of town. I could tell you where to find the best of everything: Greek, Indian, deli, pizzeria, romantic patio, casual date, fantastic views, etc.

I know all about local art galleries, loft districts, up and coming neighborhoods, and evolution of rock ‘n’ roll. I’ve hung out in the coolest parts of town in almost every American city. I know the best beaches in Southern California.

I don’t know. I guess I’ve arrived at unspoken goals in my life, and now that I’ve achieved them, I wonder what I missed.