ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Lazy Saturday Afternoons

When I arrived home today I remembered that there was something important to say. Or that I thought was important. Yet remembering this incredibly important thing didn't happen.

What was so important that I stopped myself in attempt to remember?

While uploading the photos from last night & today I remembered. Bookstores. I love bookstores. And libraries. The scent of old books calms me. It intoxicates me. If time need not bother, I stay there for hours. Only to leave for food & then excitedly read the new find in a park while eating. The smell of old books makes me weak in the knees. Really. Today, I spent a couple hours in a bookstore on Boylston that is about to move (so they're having a moving sale). And debated buying prints that although completely fit how I like to decorate, were entirely too expensive. Yes, a bookstore that also sells horticulture prints with each plant's description. And they play good jazz & classical (that being the broad classical not the exact time period).


They had an article taped up about Vonnegut (picture) which brought tears to these big, hopeful eyes. Irving & I had a literary affair for a while & I still hold Garp very close to my heart. East of Eden is my comfort book, which I keep by my bed in the case of the need for literary mac & cheese. I've loved many a Spanish & Hispanic-American literature author. But no one compares to Vonnegut. At this point, I think I've owned close to a dozen copies of Breakfast of Champions yet now don't have any because I keep lending them out & not getting them back. Which is why I try to keep extra copies of my favorites on hand to share.



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