skieswontfall

I am listening to a mix made by my favorite girl, and it's pretty much all stuff I've never heard before, and that is awesome. Also there is a typewriter sitting on my kitchen table, and this is the most second exciting thing I can think of.

I am back in the city, after a week of a lonely cabin in the frostbitten northwoods, spending time with family and catching up with old friends. It is good to be back though; here I feel centered, here I feel I have roots (though I am but a sapling). I bought more books over the past week than I have in months, and I rather doubt I'll ever get to them all. For the sake of, well, whatever, I don't know, I will catalog them here:

FICTION

The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe
The Trial of God, Elie Wiesel
Lolita, Vladimir Nabakov
Wise Blood, Flannery O'Conner
The Names, Don DeLillo
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon
The Yiddish Policeman's Union, Michael Chabon

NONFICTION
The Dell Crossword Dictionary
Organizing: A Guide for Grassroots Leaders, Si Kahn
Yiddish Proverbs, Hanan J. Ayalti (ed.)
The Gulag Archipelago Two, Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn
The Captain is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship, Charles Bukowski
Romantic Jealousy: Causes, Symptoms, Cures, Ayala Malach Pines
Sexual Personae, Camille Paglia
Sex, Art, and American Culture, Camille Paglia

NB: I do not usually buy this many books all at once, nor am I made of money, but a series of fantastic thrift store and used finds at really amazing prices means buying a stupid amount of books that I will probably never get around to reading.