yesterday, i spent $118 on books.books.
large compilations of paper and ink that i rarely have time for.
i walked into borders looking for a christmas present for my father, and came out juggling a vegan cookbook, two surprises for pop, skinny bitch (which i hear all vegan women are required to read,) and a small humorous christmas story collection. and some raspberry chapstick. which i find to be divine.
something about the faint smell of coffee and crisp, sturdy spines makes my worries melt. my own life fades as i dealve into the one of another. print has a more personal feel than broadcasted stories, and reading physical books instead of internet stories makes me feel like i live in the 70's (which i very, very much wish i did.)
besides the fact that 2 purchases were christmas presents for family, i also purchased a book and a stuffed animal to be gifted to underpriviledged children. i hope my choice of stargirl goes to an imaginative 13 year old, and that the adorable little snuffaluffagus toy goes to a 4 year old boy who needs a friend.
someday, i will live in a home with no television. really, no television. of course we can watch movies on my laptop and catch the new Office episode every week, but i don't want a tv. i want my kids to imagine on their own. i want them to create their own plotline, and expand their minds sans electronics.
i will have a bookshelf wall. a whole entire wall that is actually a giant bookcase. we had one in our Atlanta house (and I never appreciated it) that snugged itself right around a fireplace and some work of art that my mother undoubtedly found at a thrift store. we also have a mini-version in our house now, but it's in my dad's office, which is a danger zone.
but in my house, i will have a bookshelf wall. And though my little collection of self owned books does not extend one mini-shelf, the whole wall will be filled. filled with pirates and dramas and witty biographies. and maybe, just maybe, one of the books will be authored by me.
(image via)
