The inevitable finally occurred three nights ago: our mighty biblioriffic headboard lost its suit against the laws of physics, and lo and behold, books began raining from above. Much to the shock of El Yo, who was fast asleep at the time.

This led to two assertions:

1. I am dating the most patient man ever.


2. I will be investing in an industrial-sized bookshelf in the very near future. As in, after work today.

I also realized this weekend that we need to have at least one bookshelf in the living room, because books naturally intrigue people, so unless you want them cruising around your bedroom, put books out where you want to herd visitors. But that begs the question: who goes where? What do you want people to know about you from your Public Book Collection? What do you never want to admit you read? Which books do you accept will be chewed on by your lapine roommates?

These are the things that keep me up at night.

Unrelated: I'm going to be in the Bay Area briefly (oh so briefly) next week. Let me know if you're interested in getting together. Unless you're interested in getting together to eat my brains. Bad zombie!