I was just about to sit down and write something deep and meaningful, yet also bitingly funny and real, when I accidentally stumbled across the Library of Congress and their online gift store.

So instead I’m going to tell you about all the great shit they have, because it’s almost Christmas, the handsome husband is at home, the kid is at school, and I’ve got a cat warming up my feet. I sure as hell don’t feel like being intellectual right now, do you?

For those times when you want to look like a hardened criminal, but also a library-lurking super nerd. Which, for me, is ALL THE TIME. Obviously.

I was so sad when I saw this, because it must mean that no one really loves me. I don’t see these already hanging on my tree, do you? No? Everyone I know has let me down.

Not just a chair, this, my friends, is A Historically Cool Thing. And you know I can’t resist cool things, especially historical ones. Bonus points: I could finally reach all the upper cabinets where my excessively tall husband puts all the best stuff, just to taunt me.

It’s clever, because it’s a reading lamp that looks like a book! See? A book! That you read! But it’s a lamp! Also, it’s on sale, so it’s only $150!

OHMYGODYOUGUYS. It’s A Historically Cool Thing That Is Also Useful And All Around Awesome! If it’s good enough for Thomas Jefferson to write the Declaration of Independence on, it’s probably almost good enough for me.

Is it possible to retroactively register for dinnerware? Like, say, almost six years after the actual wedding took place?

In my head, this flag is yelling at you. “Hey you! Yes you! READ, DAMMIT!” Actually, that might just be what my head is always yelling.

Dude! Dude. If I need to explain why this Library of Congress skylight ornament is cool, then you need to leave this blog. Now.

Okay, it’s not strictly speaking my style, but you know what is my style? Wearing jewelry that Jane Austen wore. **drops the mic**

I read this for the first time when I was 11, and I thought I was SUCH a badass rebel for reading subversive literature. I might have even tried to hide it from my parents. Ah, the adorably innocent days of youth…

Aside from the part of me that imagines a good book probably could get you through trench warfare, I love the phrase “good live fiction.” It makes me imagine a housewife on the home front, hauling a giant sack of wiggling, freshly-caught wild books to her local library.

I have a deep, petty dread of people “accidentally” taking my books, so a while back I bought an enormous Ex Libris stamp with my name on it, so there would never be any confusion about who those babies books should go back to. I imagine this would be even more effective at gently terrifying anyone who thinks they can just casually borrow something from my shelves.

Yeah, I bet you think I’d love a library stand. WRONG! The only way anyone should ever read a book is curled up in a corner, wrapped up in the coziest blanket money can buy. This thing is just anathema to everything God intended.

I’ll leave you with this anecdote: When I was in high school, for some reason my parents thought it was a great idea to send me to live for a summer by myself in Washington, DC, to intern for the Democratic Party. One day my boss asked me to go research something at the Library of Congress, but when I got there, they turned me back, because I wasn’t 18 yet. That’s right, much like cigarettes, the library is off-limits to children without parental supervision. You never know what those hooligans will get up to if they’re allowed to read!