Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Hotlanta

I'm here. I made it. I made it all the way from Florida, driving through a bug blizzard. My windshield looks like a battlefield with love bugs. I made it to the "d" songs on my I-pod. My eyes are bleary.

Counted porno road stops on the way up to break up the drive, compared them to the number of billboards for Bible sales.

Arrived about 4 p.m., actually found the hotel after only almost driving down one one-way street. Found my roommate, she was ready to murder the hotel staff. She'd been here for two hours, after a long drive, like me, and they didn't have our room ready. The hotel was not prepared for an onslaught. Room keys don't work. Yes, they do work. Now they don't. Now they do.

She had the booksigning to do. Finally we got "escorted" to our room, she rushed about getting ready while I went downstairs to get our room keys and put my promo stuff in the goodie room. The hotel is built like a round spaceship, with the open air lobby. It's very hot here, warmer than home. There are a number of bars. I have to figure out which one is which...

Now everyone's downstairs at the booksigning. I'm eyeing my roomie's bottle of gin and thinking about taking a shower before going down to buy books. The more I drink, the more I buy. Hey, it's for a good cause, right? Then I'm meeting a friend for dinner after the booksigning. Looking forward to seeing her again. Hey, her name is Gin. It's a sign. I must toast Gin with gin. Ha. Ha.

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