books

This week's BART book is Roald Dahl's James and the Giant Peach. Am I the only kid on the block who didn't read this book? As a child I also neglected to read The BFG (which I always get confused with BFD; Big Fucking Day [?] for non-Live105 listeners). Is it THE BFG, or just BFG, btw?

While visiting a bookstore with my friend the other day, I realized that I need to stop splurging (seriously, like half my average month's total expenditure) on books. It pains me to admit this. But I do have two boxes full of books I have yet to read--and let me tell you, these are not small boxes--and I continually purchase more. I think that every time I have a fit of depression (which is, like, monthly...or weekly, if by depression we are talking about moments when I stop to contemplate where my life is heading), I go out and buy more books. It's soothing. And certainly cheaper and more wholesome than therapy sessions. Unfortunately, the books are piling up and I've begun to feel guilty about it. I went out and bought seven books this past weekend. I mean, okay, half of them were from the local used bookstore and the other half were purchased with a coupon...but still. This really needs to stop, at least until I finish reading some of them. And this situation reminds me of that time Kevin asked what percentage of my books I've actually read and I replied with something hopelessly optimistic, like 80% or something. Yeah, I lied. There is no way I've read 80% of my books, unless I start counting all of those Berenstein Bears/Babysitters Club paperbacks. Oh, and let's not forget Richard Scary and Frances the hedgehog and Lucy Maud Montgomery (my all-time favorite author, whose books I still unashamedly dig out of the sacred plastic storage bin in which they are kept so I can read them again).

...I've lost my train of thought. Eh...

Anyway, I guess the point of this post was just to say that I love books. Someday when I retire I will try to go work at a library. (I dreamily considered going into Library Science for about five minutes in the not-so-distant past and my dad almost burst a blood vessel, so that plan is being postponed.) Or maybe I'll take my life savings and open a bookstore. I doubt I can compete with Barnes or Borders but at that point in my life I doubt I'll care. I think it would be fun to have Story Hour for kids. Or a Book-It-like program. I don't know, though...Do you think I would turn into one of those scary dragon ladies at the library who wear horn-rimmed glasses and shriek at small children for not putting books back on the right shelf?!? I'm scared. I can see road rage and neuroses translating into this eventuality.