a former bookworm.

I used to be quite the bookworm.

I still remember staying up all night long, under the sheets, with Where the Red Fern Grows . I finished the whole thing that night -- and remember feeling incredibly distraught the entire next day, like I had personally lost two coon hounds after a fierce confrontation with a mountain lion.

I was 12, by the way. Just so we're all aware that I'm not talking about something that happened last week.

For some reason, the past couple of years my reading taste has ventured away from novels and such and veered more into um...well, magazines.

Yeah, I've been reading nothing but magazines now for about two years. That's about right. I could lie and say that it's been mainly smart, independent magazines like Mother Jones and The Nation but yeah, not so much. I buy those magazines, don't get me wrong -and you know, keep them, somewhere, but it's just that that 6 month free subscription to People we scored? Best six months of my life.

But then, I decided to get a library card.

How did I forget about books? They are, quite possibly, one of the best things. ever. I'm falling in love all over again with the library, the not-so-people-person librarians, the late fees that I can pay with the change at the bottom of my purse, the attic-moth smell of the well used books, god, I love it all.

Maybe it's the honeymoon period, but I'm diving in headfirst - I'm joining websites to keep track of what I'm reading and at what pace, I'm creating imaginary long distant book clubs with fellow bookworms from far away places, I'm even giving blouse items book-like names.

I even spent time happening upon these deliriously lovely library-esque photos out in internet land.

I really hope this isn't a phase.

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