Wednesday, February 09, 2005

I have a twisted fascination with libraries.

Yet another confession, I know.

When I was in the early portion of my grade school career, art class was taught by a crinkle skinned nun with a long Italian face and black thick rimmed 80's glasses in the school library. She also taught library class, which I don't remember much of.

Half of the long classroom contained her desk, and a collection of large round tables. I'm sure they wern't huge--but they did seat six little kids comfortably. The other half of the room contained rows and rows of book shelves. I don't know how many, it seemed like a lot when I was a kid. There were three light switches, one in the front, one for the first few rows of books, and another for the all-mysterious back. The back light switch very seldom was turned on. Sometimes I would try to sneek back there. It was magical, in the dark between the stacks of books. I don't recall what they looked like, only that I was back there with them, in the big-kid book section.

It was quiet back there; no one picked on me. I found other places like that over the years, places to hide at school. I've gotten very good at hiding. Now I'm trying to learn how to come out of hiding.

(The sad part is, this started out as a post about how I'm fascinated by the Dewy Decimal system--unnaturally so.)

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