On The Beach

There are many things to tell.

First off, the whole thing sucks.

I wouldn't want to say that to just anyone (so I'm putting it on a more or less public blog...). But it does. More later when I get back.

I love being on the beach, though. The first thing I did when I got here was open the slider so I could hear the ocean sounds. They are so restful and great. Earlier today I was dozing (avoiding the conference) and I heard this odd squeaking sound. Is that the alarm clock, I thought? I finally decided it was somebody using a shower somewhere that squeaked. A few minutes later as I relaxed, a large bird flew up from under the bed and out the window. Very Pentecostal.

I walked across the street after that experience and bought a cheap bathing suit, a hat, and a Daytona Beach beach towel, and went out and romped in the ocean. Define romp, you might say. Well, I more or less stood there and let the waves try to knock me over. They about did.

Oh, that reminds me. Arkansas joke (I came here from there, remember):

Arkansas state trooper: You got any ID?
Arkansas farmer: 'Bout what?

Wearing lots of black. About to attend a vampire dinner. I kid you not. Menu items may or may not include very rare meat. Tomorrow night I go out with my agent and that at least will be fun.

I am in the "business center" of the hotel at this moment surrounded by important looking men on cell phones. If they only knew.

A bientot
becky