My Love For Books Will Never Die

While we were at my aunt and uncle's house last night, my grandmother called and let my aunt know that she didn’t get a calendar for Christmas. My aunt and I went down the street to The New England Book Fair, which has juristically changed (for the bad) since a new owner took over.


I was grazing through the books looking to see if there was anything that I wanted and I noticed there wasn’t as big of a selection of books anymore. They didn’t have a lot of newer books but, they did have a lot of older, musky smelling books that I am guessing aren’t that popular anymore. The voice over the intercom very bluntly told the customers remaining in the store that we had five minutes left to shop. We had picked out a beautiful calendar for my grandmother, and we just wanted to look around some more.

A couple of years ago, my uncle brought me to this exact store, and he ever so kindly let me pick out a summer reading book. There was such a wide variety of book and I believe we were there for a couple of hours just looking before we picked anything out. I still love visiting the store when we do because my love for books will never die. I love going to stores where the books aren’t overly expensive and being able to buy a handful of books each trip.

After we left the store, we went out for dinner at a small restaurant called Fioellas. Here I got a plate of chicken and broccoli alfredo and slice of garlic bread (so cliché) and for dessert, I had a small piece of peanut butter cheesecake. From the dining area, you could see them making our food. Flames being thrown up into the air, waiting for the building to catch fire and the smell of chicken being sautéed with spices. It wasn’t a long wait from the time we ordered to the time that we were downing our dinner. We sat next to a large window and we ate at the sight of snow falling, and people falling. Thanks to the threat of icy roads, we had to scurry back to my aunt and uncles house to gather our things and go before we wouldn’t be able to make it home.

On out drive back home, we listened to the Amy Winehouse CD that my uncle had burned for me. The snow falling in the headlights of the car made the music even more dramatic. It almost felt like we were going in slow motion when “Back to Black” came to an end and Amy sings “Black” repeatedly, slowing down every time she says it. I actually felt car sick by the time we got home and couldn’t wait to run into my room and turn on the heat.

By the way…

I apologize I didn’t post last weekend, mid-terms and finals have taken over my life once again. I’m going to make up for it, I promise!