Iced Inn

I didn't get out much yesterday. I got up at 7:30, took my photos for True Colours Thursday, posted them, picked up some clothes from the laundromat, went to my Granny's to pick up some packages I had delivered to her house, went to the Dollar General for a box of mac and cheese (and some junk food), and was in the rest of the evening. However, I had heard that the weather was supposed to get atrocious later that evening. Didn't look so bad to me when I was out in it.

I had settled down in the recliner, somewhat ensconsced (shameless plug for Word of the Day) in our broken recliner, with a lap cat purring gently beside me, and preparing to read the next few chapters of The Maltese Falcon. The great thing about being mostly unemployed and out of school is that you can take time to do all those things you wanted to do but never had the time for, like read The Maltese Falcon.

Things were just getting interesting. I was familiarizing myself with Sam Spade's character and getting wrapped up in the mystery surrounding Miles Archer's murder when Mom started asking me about her blog. She just joined Blogger this week, and is still getting accustomed to its navigation. Since I've had Blogger for nigh on to three years now, I forget how confusing blogging is to a newbie. Trying to be patient, I explained to her the code for creating links (though I had it written on a pink sticky note in the computer desk for her). I picked up my book again. She then asked me how to upload photos. This is nice--she posted her first True Colours Thursday, herself. And I do remember how difficult it was for me to figure out posting photos back in December of 2005. I actually had to ask RC to give me a hand at the time. I re-read the same sentence I'd been on for 15 minutes. Mom interrupted my reading again to ask about spacing. And then about how to preview the post. I set my book down until she had succesfully posted her photos.

Thinking it was again safe to try to read my book, I tried once again to re-read the same stuff that I'd been reading during each of my interruptions, when my phone rang. It was RC. I decided to answer it, though I was in peak minutes, because it was about 6:30 or so, and I knew she had 30-45 minutes of driving to get back home. If the weather had gotten nasty, she might have actually needed something. When I answered, she said she was annoyed.

This brought back memories of how my grandmother called me while annoyed earlier in the day as well, but that's another story.

So I asked RC what the problem was, and her response was freezing rain. Apparently, RC has a cousin, LH, who lives a few blocks from where RC works. RC had asked LH if she could stay over in case of bad weather. The cousin had agreed. However, when RC called her, LH informed her that she was going to a party with BW. This really cramped RC's style, because she would either have to find a way to kill three hours before LH got home from the party, or else she would have to stay alone with LH's husband, DH. RC didn't want to do either of these things, so she found herself getting a room at a Day's Inn.

This is where she called me.

I commiserated with RC for a while, and then I asked her about the condition of the room. No apparent signs of blood or other human fluids were found in her room. I reminded her to be grateful of that, because I'd had my share of nasty motel rooms, and they weren't at all pleasant.

RC decided to hang up for a while so she wouldn't waste all my minutes, and then went to Steak 'n Shake for supper. I suggested this to her, as her motel was only steps away from the restaurant, and they never close. She later called me back (during my period of free minutes) to tell me about the rest of her misadventures. Apparently, she was so flustered that she sat down at the nearest table, disregarding (actually, not seeing) the sign that asked patrons to wait to be seated by a hostess. Then, after eating, she stepped onto the sidewalk to go back to her room, and slipped on the ice. Fortunately, she didn't fall, but from the sound of things, she had several close calls with the ice that night.

As she was recounting all these details to me, RC said, "I bet you're going to put this down in your Blogspot." 'Now why didn't I not think of that?' (inside joke). Suddenly, I felt like David Sedaris. In a manner of speaking, of course. Not being Sedaris, I can't honestly attest to his feelings, but I do know that his family is afraid to say or do anything for fear that he will write about it in one of his books. Thus, I took this little phrase from RC as a compliment.

So, though she was iced "inn" at a Day's Inn, RC should have had a good night's sleep. Though LH came home from her party at a decent hour, at least in the motel room, RC had her own TV, and nobody was around to tell her to change the channel.

Oh yeah, and I just decided to save Sam Spade for another day.

A Little Jaunt to Barnes and Noble

I went shopping with my mom, aunt, and grandma today. This is pretty incredible, considering I generally don't care for shopping. However, today I was in the mood, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I hadn't noticed until today how long it's been since I've stepped foot into a Barnes and Noble, though. When I walked through the doors and smelled the coffee (wow, I missed a great use of the word "olfactory" here), and saw all the books on shelves and on display tables, memories came rushing back. Hours and dollars spent having a great time in the bookstore. I think I have a different interest every time I visit a bookstore, though. Sometimes I wind up in the cookbooks (vegetarian and desserts), some days it's classic novels (a.k.a. "literature"), on adventurous days, it's the travel section, when I feel like cleaning out old "junk" I check out the books on collectables, and the list goes on forever. Today, I visited literature and bought The Unvanquished by, of course, William Faulkner (definitely my favorite author at the moment). I also bought The Maltese Falcon. I've always heard of it, and it sounded interesting, and since I had a Barnes and Noble gift card burning a hole in my pocket, I decided to go for it. After literature, my next stop was books on writing. Along the way, my mom spotted David Morrell's new book, The Spy Who Came For Christmas in the Christmas display table. Whoa, awesome! I could have had an autographed copy of this book *slaps self in forehead*. Yes, I met the guy who created Rambo at a writer's conference in Scottsdale, Arizona last month. Yes, he was signing books. No, I didn't get one. I mean, I can't say that I'm a Rambo fan (I can't say I'm not either, because I've never seen the movie or read First Blood), but still, I could have gotten an autographed copy of something by the guy who created Rambo. Oh well. But when I got to the writing section, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a book on writing, written by none other than David Morrell himself. This one is going on my Christmas list. On the way out, I thought of the coffee again. If I hadn't been saving my money, I would have bought one for old times' sake. Coffee or no, this day will still make a nice memory for the next time I take a trip to Barnes and Noble.