Today I was doing that for a while, and then I came inside because I wanted to eat some banana bread. (My second two slices of the day — so, that’s four slices so far today. It’s 1 p.m.) I was too lazy to put on a cover-up dress, so I was sitting in my swimsuit in my library chair for maximum transference of sunscreen onto the furniture, the plate of dessert wodged under my chin like one of those collars you put on wounded dogs, with a napkin spread over as much of the rest of me as possible in a vain attempt to catch the crumbs from my Cookie Monster-esque devouring of treats. (Face-first, that’s how I roll.) And Gene happened to pass by the door and paused to take in this tableau and then unironically said “I’m so lucky.”

Just, thank god, you know?

And then Gene said “Why are the band-aids in this jar with the narrow mouth that I can’t get my fingers into? I can’t tell which one of these bottles of pills is the Tylenol. Where did all these Q-tips come from? Do we use these for anything?”

And I realized that I will never live a Pinterest life.

Michele: “Sorry, yes.”

Kris: “Did you forget how to walk?”

Michele: “No, I was just waiting for a white man to cross with.”

Kris: “…”

Michele: “You know, the little white light-up man? In the crossing sign?”

Kris: “Ah. Yes. You may wish to rephrase that in the future.”

“They didn’t have to bother with their children,” Humphrey pointed out. “They just handed them over to a competent nurse, and — ”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” said Miss Dunne. “They didn’t pretend they liked them. Now they pretend they like them and don’t have them.”

-D.E. Stevenson, Celia’s House

I’ve never ridden the anti-Amazon bandwagon, because I’m old enough to remember life before Amazon. People, it sucked. Remember (all you Olds) finding that fascinating first book of a trilogy buried in a used bookstore — Pamela Dean’s The Secret Country, just to take a random example — and then discovering the series was out-of-print and that unless you got lucky twice more, you were never going to know how it ended? (Unless you were dating Gene, who magically found the next two books for you and who to this day has never explained how he got them.) Now fast-forward to today, when almost every single book I’ve ever wanted to read is readily available on Amazon or through Amazon sellers, usually at several different price points and in several different editions.

I know there are consequences to using Amazon. And I’m sorry, I love used bookstores as much as the next bibliophile nutjob, but if the price of having the world of books at my mouse-clicking fingertips means brick-and-mortar used bookstores go extinct, then I’ll pay that price. (And I know there are other consequences too. So far I don’t care about any of those either.)

So now Amazon owns Goodreads and thus has access to far more of my reading data than they did before. Presumably they’ll eventually be able to scan my entire 1107 books when I visit their site, along with my reviews and ratings, and they’ll use that knowledge to try and sell me stuff which I’m likely to buy. And read. And enjoy. And this is bad how?

I worked for Amazon almost fifteen years ago and I remember Jeff Bezos ranting in his grandiose way about how eventually Amazon was going to take over the entire internet retail world. Well, speaking as someone who really enjoys getting Coralie Bickford-Smith books for almost half-off normal retail price, I say ride on, Genghis; I’m right behind you.

Boy: “Wow, I just realized that those are all the words I usually use to describe Mauritania.”

Girl, in the hopeful voice of someone on a first date: “Oh, is that the imaginary country you invented?”

Boy, in the regretful voice of someone on a last date: “Uh…no.”

I probably need to stop shopping at stores with no return policies.

Make your own taglines!

I am making up for my unconscionable lack of judgment now by obtaining every one of her books I can find (they’re nearly all out of print). I just received this lovely five volume boxed set in the mail. I mean, can you even stand this awesomeness?

Is that Robert Redford on the box? Redford has never looked so good.

And here they are in all their glory:

I’m not sure what else to tell you about these if the covers alone have not convinced you to read them. I can read two a day; they’re like snack food. But you’ll have to find your own because I can never bear to let these out of my possession again. In fact, I’m just going to carry them around the house and snuggle them for the rest of the day.