Saturday, January 27, 2007


This afternoon, I went to Envy Me and got a P150 cut that, otherwise, would've only cost me P50 at 5E's House of Beauty in Acacia.

I stepped out of the salon, crossed the street, and went to NCCC Mall. I immediately proceeded to the nameless used bookstore at the first floor. Turns out, they were having a P35 (on selected titles) book sale. Yay. I bought a book by Virginia Woolf, partly to satiate my curiosity over "The Hours" and "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" Also, I bought my third Garrison Keillor ("Love Me"), and this other book, "Mendel's Dwarf" by Simon Mawer--a bit pricey for a used book (at P120), but it was in semi-new condition, and the reviews seemed very promising--so I just had to buy it. I also saw this yellowed book of poems by a guy named Forest. I do not know Forest, but I wanted to buy the book nonetheless because the book was 2007 minus 1931 years old (I entrust the calculations to you dear reader, since I am in no mood to spoon-feed), as the owner wrote on the blank leaf herself. However, I decided against it, since I'm not really a "poems-y" kind of person.

Yes, I have begun the habit of hoarding used books. It is my other vice, aside from splurging on trans-fat-laden food. Of course, I've only read about a handful of the 50++ previously-owned books that litter my room. I just like seeing the messy, yellowed, stack of them--not to mention the addictive dust-and-wood smell of used books. Ahhh, sniff, sniff...and sneeze.

Nah, I just like how it gives me an air of intellect.