An addiction to feed...
It's no secret that someone who spent their collegiate career reading literature and writing papers has a secret crush on books, in general. Well that crush has transformed into a slight addiction. One where I don't think about where I'm going to put the books, just that they seem interesting or full-blown blow my skirt up.
Well last week as I was working my volunteer shift at the Rogue Valley Metaphysical Library, I had to cover the Media Exchange also which is right next door. (Same entity, different principle. The library has a membership and the Exchange is a non-profit free exchange.) Well since there weren't any patrons around to assist, I took to perusing the shelves for myself.
One book turned to two...which turned to four...which turned to the 11 that I brought home.
As you can see the topics vary wildly. The Heirs of the Fisherman is about the manner in which the Vatican goes about choosing the new Pope. There are some history books there, because no one can ever read too much about the past. That and my history skills kinda suck (thus wook's existence). So hopefully the books on Russia, fallen dictators, and global history to 1500 will enlighten me.
And in previous posts, you know that all my literature is in boxes in my storage unit. Sad, but where's a girl to put it? I'm going to have to keep looking for my sugar daddy with his Vodka empire and enough shelving space to house my growing collection.
Besides, since my shoe collection has slowed to crawl (which my dad can't complain about), I don't feel too bad about acquiring more reading material. Shoe fashions come and go. Literature is usually here to stay. Unless burning books comes back into style. But then you'd have people on you for environmental pollution. Or something like that. But I'm not planning on that. So books are here to stay. Yay. And what else do you do in the winter when the weather has turned to the white variety and there's a crackling fire nearby? Put on a pot of water and crack open a book. Ahh...
Well last week as I was working my volunteer shift at the Rogue Valley Metaphysical Library, I had to cover the Media Exchange also which is right next door. (Same entity, different principle. The library has a membership and the Exchange is a non-profit free exchange.) Well since there weren't any patrons around to assist, I took to perusing the shelves for myself.
One book turned to two...which turned to four...which turned to the 11 that I brought home.
As you can see the topics vary wildly. The Heirs of the Fisherman is about the manner in which the Vatican goes about choosing the new Pope. There are some history books there, because no one can ever read too much about the past. That and my history skills kinda suck (thus wook's existence). So hopefully the books on Russia, fallen dictators, and global history to 1500 will enlighten me.And in previous posts, you know that all my literature is in boxes in my storage unit. Sad, but where's a girl to put it? I'm going to have to keep looking for my sugar daddy with his Vodka empire and enough shelving space to house my growing collection.
Besides, since my shoe collection has slowed to crawl (which my dad can't complain about), I don't feel too bad about acquiring more reading material. Shoe fashions come and go. Literature is usually here to stay. Unless burning books comes back into style. But then you'd have people on you for environmental pollution. Or something like that. But I'm not planning on that. So books are here to stay. Yay. And what else do you do in the winter when the weather has turned to the white variety and there's a crackling fire nearby? Put on a pot of water and crack open a book. Ahh...
posted by Mrs. Wookie at
3:05 PM
1 Comments:
I know you don't read fiction all that often, but I just got done with a book that I found to be hilarious. It was a political satire based slightly in the future. Its about a blogger, who in the midst of a recession, blogs about how she thinks a possible fix is to have the baby boomers off themselves shortly after retirement and the ensuing drama that comes from saying something like that. It was hilarious. The name of the book is "Boomsday".
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