got to get ourselves back to the garden
This weekend I got a library card. *cue the Alleluia chorus*
I walked over to the Central Branch of the Brooklyn Public library and waited in line and got it. The Central Branch is this enormous, cavernous and confusing place built to the scale of giants or gods. While you may find that a book is in their collection. Tracking it down in the stacks is another matter entirely. However after scampering back and forth and from one floor to another stopping once or twice at the information desk, I did find some of what I was looking for. Or at least a very close approximation. In my mind the long list of things that I want to read now unfurls like a land of possibility.
The Brooklyn Public Library has a multi-lingual book section. So if I could read chinese or russian or french or spanish or ... uh ... (that's as far as I figured) I could check out books and magazines in those languages. They had Stephen King in French which I considered but decided against it. For now.
I am reading "All Marketers Are Liars" by Seth Godin. I finally have come to terms with the fact that I am not an early adopter but rather a laggard in the face of change and innovation.
Chuck Klosterman's "A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas" waits in the wings *hee* along with "how i became Stupid" by Martin Page and Robert Sullivan's "Rats." The latter two I bought out of frustration at being twice denied a card at the local branch. I suffer the pangs of book lust if I spend too much time in a bookstore and without a library card I am likely to succumb.
I walked home weighed down by my precious cargo all pleased with myself.
CE says that when she gets to a new town she needs to find a bar in which to hang out, a good yoga studio, and a few cute places to eat. These are necessities for a happy living situation.
Apparently what I need is a library card.
It was a thing missing from my life that I did not realize how much I missed.
Now the challenge is to figure out what else I don't realize that I miss or need.
It has occurred to me that if I just went to bed at 9pm every night I would probably be a chipper and happy camper.
But then when would I blog?