Reading rates are down, but libraries are womblike, comfortable memory rooms

So, I was reading Gawker this morning and this article about libraries being the new cool thing to have in your house (but not for reading!) made me feel sad, even though it's also a little funny. I mean, buying cases of books in German just because they look good and are cheap? So wrong, unless you happen to read German, which she admits her clients did not. Aside: one time when I was a kid, I was trying to find The Neverending Story at the library and the card catalog (I am so old) led me to The Neverending Story in the original German. I eventually managed to find it in English and checked that one out. Anyway, one of the comments on this story cracked me up. Like ten comments down someone said, "Sometimes, to comfort myself in a sensual way, I lie down on a big pile of books and ask my lover to rip pages from his favorite book and cover me with them. It is a wonderful sensation to be blanketed in great literature that means so much to my lover, and I do enjoy the outstanding bookishness of our foreplay." I think I want to be friends with that girl. She seems awesomely witty. Seriously, I am still giggling.

Also, there is one bookcase in my house. There are stacks of books on the dining table, under my nightstand, on the desk in the dining room, next to a comfy chair, and of course, in various boxes in my closet. Also, I feel like Mark will be the only person to get this, but lately Shannon and I keep saying, "And this is where we keep the (fill in random object found in weird place)." You know, like how our bathmat is on the front porch because the dog peed on it and we were letting it dry out before we washed it, but then we forgot to move it. And how I found the dog's leash in a bin of stuff for Goodwill. Seriously, now we're just leaving the bathmat on the porch so when her mom and step-dad come to get her on Saturday she can point to it and be like, "And this is where we keep the bathmat."