The siren song. It calls to me.

My dad and stepmom came to see me, but they left this morning. I had a pretty uneventful day of holiday commercialism planned, but I spent five minutes driving around the crammed parking lot and decided I really didn't want to be at the mall. I nearly never want to be at the mall, so no big surprise there. Regardless of how much I need a new pair of jeans.

Back when Boy-Creature and I moved into our humble abode, there was one time when we ended up aimlessly driving around the neighborhood. We came across a children's bookstore that I always meant to go check out. A couple years back, I found the first three of Andrew Lang's Fairy Books for a dollar each at my favorite Half Price Books in Dallas. They weren't terribly special. Actually, they're old library discards. Not first editions or anything. But they were old, and I love them.

Now every time I find a used bookstore, I wander through the kids' section, to see if I can add to my collection. I haven't found any yet, so today I thought I'd go back to that bookstore.

Long story short, I couldn't find it. It was months ago, and I'm not even sure what road they were actually on, or how far down it was. But I found another used bookstore. Adams Avenue Bookstore. I browsed every single shelf. I looked at everything, just because I love bookstores so much. This one was great. It's in an old house, with shelves in every room and closet, even all along the stairs. And I left with two new books, because I don't have enough trouble figuring out what to read next. Should I finally get around to One Hundred Years of Solitude, or my big, fancy copy of The Illustrated Brief History of Time and the Universe in a Nutshell? (I was seriously geeking out when I bought that.)

And these two new books are serious contenders. Miles Harvey's The Island of Lost Maps and Adam Gopnik's Paris to the Moon. They both seem like they'll be fabulous. But at the same time, so do the other books waiting patiently on my shelf. There's a Charles de Lint I bought months ago, and two Umberto Ecos! But once again I have no idea what to read.

I wish I could read them all at once. Can I quit my job and read now? I seriously thought about asking the bookstore guy if he needed any help around the store. I think about that every time I enter any bookstore. And I will continue to do so until I quit my job. Maybe one of these days I'll find a better option. Fingers crossed.