This Reader's Vice

I have this sickness. I love to read and I count myself as somewhat adventurous in my book selection. Every time I go to my bookshelves to pick up a new read, however, I grab the same book over and over. The book I choose changes with seasons. For a while, I was loyal to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; then I read only Murder on the Orient Express. I had a poetry phase that brought me back to Billy Collin's Nine Horses time and time again. Currently, I cannot part with A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg. This book is so lovely. It is made up of all of these small vignettes and recipes, so beautifully written. The best parts, in my opinion, are when she writes about Paris. I have never been to Paris but have always wanted to go. A few years ago, my dear friend and I went on this whirlwind trip to Italy, to visit her brother and sister-in-law. We had an incredible time eating gelato and walking the streets of Venice and Florence. Anytime I think of that trip or read A Homemade Life, I deeply desire to travel abroad again- Paris this time. Or maybe Spain. Or Greece.
Until then, I'll just read the stories from a fellow traveler about the streets of Paris that I someday hope to stroll.