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.

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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.