The Library of Youth

I can't talk today; I have no voice. I started losing my voice yesterday when I was at the R* Museum of Art doing data entry. They'd had some volunteer come in and blaze through all the data forms I typically do, so they gave me  some little comp cards that didn't take very long. I'd forgotten my badge and remembered on the six train. Oh well, I'm one of those assholes I hate!

So, I dutifully did my data entry and some other little project that L gave me to do. And I was out early. I wandered up to 23rd street to see if the library branch was open and it was! Most library branches are open later on one evening a week. It was full of the homeless Orwell was talking about! Killing time til the shelter opens. What a crappy life. It smelled in there and there was no place to sit that wasn't right next to a bum reading a paper. That branch doesn't have particularly great books. None of the branches do: but all in all they have a great selection. The NYPL has such a great collection of books. Thank goodness for the internet to request them. :) What if it was the only branch in town.

I wonder if I could have gotten books from other branches when we lived in Illinois. There was only the Winnetka branch; and I guess we used to go to the Wilmette branch too. I'm having a difficult time picturing the Winnetka branch other than the adult section. And the exciting sex section. I'm sure it would be boring as heck now, but I remember there was a book on prostitution through the ages or something like that. Oh! How I longed to go through that book page by page! But I was too shy.

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