The CML

I suppose my love for paper extends not only to my double major (English and magazines, aka I constantly have (or should have) a book in my hand), but also I where I work. Last fall I started working at the Curriculum Materials Library, a magical little place in Aderhold that is half children's books and half text books. I love it there. I'm not a huge fan of the huge math and science and history books that I have to lug around and put on shelves. (I know that one day, one is going to fall on my head, and it will hurt. I am not looking forward to this day.) But I love the children's lit side of it. Sometimes the colourful pictures and interesting titles pose problems because I cannot shelve very well while reading, but I love that fact that I spend my time amidst all these happy little tales. Some I've picked up aren't so happy, but there's something about children's literature, a magic that still remains in them. I must confess that I have not checked out just a few. It's so nice to have that light reading every now and then. I enjoy handling all the books, and it always makes my day when I can tell someone loves the books as much as I do. Sometimes actual children come in, and it's the best day ever. I love the CML. It's a wonderful place to work. I'm so glad it's in my life.

Me?

I am a paper-o-phile. I don't know the correct term for this affliction. Maybe I should google it. According to alphadictionary.com, the correct term is papyrophilia. Yes, I do suffer from an obsessive love of paper. Sometimes it's not so painful, like when the paper I love is free (e.g., an ad I really like in the Red and Black). Other times, it's more burdensome, like when the paper product I love costs half a week's pay (e.g., this gorgeous copy of Jane Eyre). No matter the cost, though, I just love paper in all its many forms. I love the way paper can be used in so many different ways. It can tell stories. Show us art. Remind us of important activities. Hold our secrets. Provide diversion. Carry our hearts over many miles. It's so versatile. My favourite type of paper may be the blank kind, bound up in a journal or sitting in my printer. I love the potential energy that blank paper holds. So many promises! Nothing's written. Who knows what will be though. It could be something mundane, like a list of groceries or a short essay for class. But it could be something spectacular, like a prize-winning novel or plans for a working time machine. I find even little grocery lists exciting, though. I found one squashed at the bottom of my purse the other day. "Talapia (6). Romain lettuce. Stuff for Caesar salad. Gushers." Oh, that's when I was at home still, helping my mum out. My heart thrills at this little happy memory, and I don't want to throw this piece of my history away. It's beautiful in its simplicity. Some fish, some veggies, snacks for my brother. So boring to most, but to me a reminder of a wonderful supper, laughing with my family. And I want to keep it. Every piece of paper I come in contact with has potential to be like this one. Full of simple words, but also of deeper thoughts, on love and summer and family.