Tag Archives: bookshelves


This Tuesday I turn 27. I plan to keep it quiet at work– because who needs awkward coworker well wishes?– but the cosmos have granted me a mini work related birthday gift anyway, because on Tuesday November 20th the 275 Battery office building where I work will be holding a Book Fair in the lobby which I plan to make full use of on my break. A Book Fair! It could be the rinky dinkiest thing, and I’ll still be happy and say thanks to the cosmos for the gift and for remembering.

Also, in regards to my last post, I’ve been continuing my muscling through of Henry Miller’s autobiographical trilogy The Rosy Crucifixion and am now reading book 2, Plexus. And I feel like, while I kind of ripped into Henry Miller in my last post, we’re getting to be friends. Unlike Sexus, there has been almost nothing offensive or vulgar in this book so far, probably because at this point in the trilogy he is now married to a woman he really loves and has forsaken (for now) his youthful escapades. And also, after three books, I’m getting immersed in his world, knowing all of his New York friends by name and personality, understanding his tics, following his somewhat mundane quotidian experiences yet still being entertained. You’re growing on me Henry… even if you are still a jerk.

Here’s what I saw at Moe’s today:

Nabokov, Moe's, books, bookstore

That is all.


I want Leelee Sobieski’s bookshelf. And apartment.

Photo credit: Vogue.

The girl who starred in late ’90s classics like Deep Impact and Never Been Kissed is now apparently married to a designer and living in an amazing Manhattan loft with their two-year-old. The thing that really caught my eye in this Vogue feature is the living room with its WALL o’ books (framed so nicely in a very light wood) with even more books making a special appearance in the underpart of the matching coffee table as well.

Further, the 4,800 sq ft (!!!) loft is reportedly “filled with an extraordinary collection of works by Raymond Pettibon, George Condo, Theodor Seuss Geisel (a.k.a. Dr. Seuss).”

Photos of the playroom and dining room make it look like an earthy but super-upscale toy store, complete with giant stuffed giraffe and baseball catcher’s mitt bean bag chair set against an impeccable light wood background.

Good for her. I mean, I wasn’t a child actress who made lots of money in Hollywood or anything, but I’m kinda like, why can’t I have nice things like that? Not fair, right?