My name is Tori and I have a problem with teen literature...

Last weekend, I made Eric take me to the library because I had a serious Joan Lowry Nixon craving. I was totally jonesin' for a classic 1970s teen mystery novel. I don't know why; I guess I was feeling nostalgic for summers long ago. Anyway, it was all good and fine until I got to the front counter to check out. As I looked down at my pile of trashy teen novels (no, Twilight was not one of them), I felt a waive of embarrassment wash over me. It was probably like buying hemorrhoid cream..."uh, it's not for me..." Yeah, right. I tried to play it cool with the librarian, but she wasn't having any of it.

Me (forced laughter): Yeah, I am so glad you guys had some Joan Lowry Nixon books. You know when you just get a craving for a book?
Librarian (silent stare).
Me (talking a little faster): Like it's kind of nostalgic? And it reminds you of a certain point in your life?
Librarian (grimace of acknowledgment).
Me: Well, anyway, I was just having that. You know, just wishing...I was thirteen again (pausing as I realize how stupid that sounded).
Librarian (more silence).
Me (a little huffy and defensive): Anyway, I don't usually read these kind of books! (Grabs stack from the counter and stomps out to the car).

I am cool.