Fun, I tell you. A laugh a minute. Yup. It will be the most funnest fun thing which is fun in the whole damn world.

Yup.

***

I was thinking about ending this entry right there. It would have been some sort of obscure postmodern commentary, I think.

See, I'd started out saying I was going to write something fun, and then, there's just nothing. Am I saying there is no fun? Is it perhaps symbolic of The Nature of Fun, that it can not be captured? Or, is the Fun really there, and you just can't see it?

***

Honestly, though, I just couldn't think of anything.

***

I went to a used book sale today with Jack and Anne. It's kind of intimidating, the sheer number of things I must read now. I've still got a stack of library books that I'm working through, I've only read one of the books I picked out for my birthday so far, and now I've got 24 (twenty-four?!?) other new books. What the hell was I thinking?

Never, ever, go to a library book sale. Nothing was more than $2. Most of the hardcovers were 25 cents. The paperbacks were 10. It was madness. I kept saying, "OK. This is out of control. I can't carry any more. It's time to stop looking. Ooh! What's that?" Jack finally had to sit down, and then, 15 minutes later, Anne and I managed to drag ourselves away.

When I got home, D. told me the library had called. Some more of the stuff I reserved had come in.

See, two weeks ago, I went to the Cowtown library. They've recently become part of something called the Winnefox System, which includes damn near every library within 50 miles of here, from the dinky little towns to the reasonably sized cities.

As is my custom when visiting a new library, I started looking up random authors and titles that popped into my head on the computer. Keep in mind that when I played this game in NowhereLand, I might find one thing in ten that I wanted on any given day. Even when I discovered the Random library, there were some damning gaps. (What do you mean, you've never heard of Robert Anton Wilson? How can you call yourself a library, when you only have one Tom Robbins?) Cowtown, though, has connections. I kept asking for things, and I kept finding them. I must have placed 15 interlibrary loans that day. And now, they're starting to trickle in.

I thought I was swamped last week, when I had seven new books all at once. Now, I don't think I'll be able to leave my house for six months.

Maybe instead of journal entries, I'll start doing book reports in here.

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