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Oct. 27th, 2004 04:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pipistrellafelixAh, sensory overload...
Walking down Broadway, Newsies in my ears, leaves swirling every which way, people--oh, the people; I am missing people-watching freewrites--Hot Topic is another world entirely, I think. A supremely different world. Nonethless they had postcards, which was part of my quest today, and a pirate button, which made the day just a little funnier. I had to take off my headphones in the store because their music pounds through anything--it's like an artificial heartbeat, hard and loud and insistent, and it doesn't leave room for your own rhythm anywhere. I found the bookstore--it was lacking in postcards, which was my ostensible reason for going, but it did have a remainders table, which I pawed through and found a book--The Archivist by Martha Cooley. Never heard of it before...but the quote on the back, from Steve Moore of the WA Post Book World, caught my eye ("It is rare and gratifying to read a novel about people who take literature seriously, who practically live and die by books....") and when I read the first short chapter (which IS the quote, you see), it was rather a done deal. Walking out of the shop I noticed the sign--that's this bookstore, I'd forgotten--which has a first line, and if you tell the cashier what book it's from you get a discount. I knew it this time (Interview With The Vampire, of all things), but I don't mind the extra few cents. It's bookshop, after all.
I passed by Everyday Music and then and there was utterly doomed...a whole wall of LPs? I cannot resist as much as I might have to. I spent a while there, flipping through piles of stacked LPs that turned my fingers dusty, each record as it hit the one in front letting a whuff of air come up, slamming into my nose the smell of dust and disintegrating paper and old plastic.
So I have more music now--I shall listen to it at home this weekend--and more CDs, having stopped by the library as well. And postcards, and stamps.
The roomate is sick...blargh. I hope she gets well, selfishly I hope I don't get what she has. Whatever it is.
Ooooh, sensory overload...I love fall. I do, I do.
Walking down Broadway, Newsies in my ears, leaves swirling every which way, people--oh, the people; I am missing people-watching freewrites--Hot Topic is another world entirely, I think. A supremely different world. Nonethless they had postcards, which was part of my quest today, and a pirate button, which made the day just a little funnier. I had to take off my headphones in the store because their music pounds through anything--it's like an artificial heartbeat, hard and loud and insistent, and it doesn't leave room for your own rhythm anywhere. I found the bookstore--it was lacking in postcards, which was my ostensible reason for going, but it did have a remainders table, which I pawed through and found a book--The Archivist by Martha Cooley. Never heard of it before...but the quote on the back, from Steve Moore of the WA Post Book World, caught my eye ("It is rare and gratifying to read a novel about people who take literature seriously, who practically live and die by books....") and when I read the first short chapter (which IS the quote, you see), it was rather a done deal. Walking out of the shop I noticed the sign--that's this bookstore, I'd forgotten--which has a first line, and if you tell the cashier what book it's from you get a discount. I knew it this time (Interview With The Vampire, of all things), but I don't mind the extra few cents. It's bookshop, after all.
I passed by Everyday Music and then and there was utterly doomed...a whole wall of LPs? I cannot resist as much as I might have to. I spent a while there, flipping through piles of stacked LPs that turned my fingers dusty, each record as it hit the one in front letting a whuff of air come up, slamming into my nose the smell of dust and disintegrating paper and old plastic.
So I have more music now--I shall listen to it at home this weekend--and more CDs, having stopped by the library as well. And postcards, and stamps.
The roomate is sick...blargh. I hope she gets well, selfishly I hope I don't get what she has. Whatever it is.
Ooooh, sensory overload...I love fall. I do, I do.
