It's a sickness
Thanks to a family medical emergency, my second set of weekend plans were canceled last night. The first set of plans were canceled when the second presented itself... okay it's way too complicated to get into.
Rather than learning the finer aspects of swooshing down the snow covered slopes, I found myself staring at the sterile white walls of a hospital today. About two hours into it I realized I had no reading material. As a self-confessed literary snob, I, unfortunately, am unable to deal with the selection available in the gift shop. Off to B&N with me.
Have I mentioned how much I adore Barnes & Noble? There is the obvious reason of a humongous selection of books in all shapes, sizes and covers. Seeing the beautiful rows of bound pages nearly sends me into orgasmic bliss. I am also very fond of those large overstuffed chairs scattered through the store. If one has enough time, you need only to find an interesting title, a free seat and curl up for hours of uninterrupted ecstasy. The piece de resistance, however, would be the ode-inspiring Starbucks, that caffeine lover's paradise, ensconced within my beloved B&N. A slightly redemptive afternoon was had by one.
In spite of the copious amounts of literary works stowed away in the guest bedroom, attic, basement and living room bookcases, I still managed to walk out of there with four new books and a darling bookmark. In my defense, it has a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson and tons of cute embellishments on it. Was I really supposed to just walk away from that?
If there were such an organization as "Book and Book Accessory Addicts Anonymous" available, I have a distinct feeling I would be a charter member. As with any addiction, my dears, it is a sickness. I require your understanding, your patience, and most of all, your gift cards for B&N :-D
Rather than learning the finer aspects of swooshing down the snow covered slopes, I found myself staring at the sterile white walls of a hospital today. About two hours into it I realized I had no reading material. As a self-confessed literary snob, I, unfortunately, am unable to deal with the selection available in the gift shop. Off to B&N with me.
Have I mentioned how much I adore Barnes & Noble? There is the obvious reason of a humongous selection of books in all shapes, sizes and covers. Seeing the beautiful rows of bound pages nearly sends me into orgasmic bliss. I am also very fond of those large overstuffed chairs scattered through the store. If one has enough time, you need only to find an interesting title, a free seat and curl up for hours of uninterrupted ecstasy. The piece de resistance, however, would be the ode-inspiring Starbucks, that caffeine lover's paradise, ensconced within my beloved B&N. A slightly redemptive afternoon was had by one.
In spite of the copious amounts of literary works stowed away in the guest bedroom, attic, basement and living room bookcases, I still managed to walk out of there with four new books and a darling bookmark. In my defense, it has a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson and tons of cute embellishments on it. Was I really supposed to just walk away from that?
If there were such an organization as "Book and Book Accessory Addicts Anonymous" available, I have a distinct feeling I would be a charter member. As with any addiction, my dears, it is a sickness. I require your understanding, your patience, and most of all, your gift cards for B&N :-D