A Dud

There was this really bad book I had to review, and I kept putting it off and off because I hated the idea of having to review it. In the end, I was forced to work on the review all the way from St Louis to Valencia. I finally finished and submitted it, so I feel a huge sense of relief.

It’s one of those books that people publish when they need a publication but don’t want to do the work. So they throw together a bunch of notes for undergraduate lectures and call the end result a book. It’s not something I’m assuming, by the way. The author says in the intro that this is class material.

I had been duped by the book’s title into accepting the review. And it turned out to be a dud.

This is me in Valencia in the famous red dress I had to grab at the airport:

I’m not hungover, I’m just tired from the trip, hence the sunglasses indoors.

In Valencia

Normally, accommodations in Europe are small and cramped. But our hotel room in Valencia is huge, with an enormous veranda and a huge, private hot tub on the veranda.

I should let N organize all my travel from now on. I have no idea how he finds all these great places without ever having been to the area.

Until I recover my suitcase, I have to walk around in this long, bright-red, opera-style dress, which is the only thing I managed to buy at the airport Zara once I realized that the suitcase was gone. But the good thing about my age is that I don’t care how I look.

It’s funny, though, how dependent we are on our things. I spent two days in sweaty, dirty travel clothes and felt like a different person.