The other day I drove to Monterey. I had an audiobook on and was really getting into the story. It was about how a Facebook/Google-like company incrementally monopolizes data and brings on a survelliance state dystopia. It reminded me about my Facebook account which I never use and I was like oh and deleted it. Twitter is still great, can’t live without that!
It took me a long time to decide on what kind of hotel I wanted. I reflexively wanted something cheap. Saving money is pretty pleasurable, and can outweigh or offset the pleasure of a nicer room, say. I thought I wanted somewhere quiet too. Remote, set back a bit from a busy road. But I didn’t want something like a cabin in the woods, not that kind of quiet. Not rustic. The best hotel room I ever stayed at was a Best Western in Brookings, Oregon, right next to the beach. It was perfect. I wanted something like that, only different. Hours later, I had rejected highrise Marriotts and little bed-and-breakfast inns, and picked this place in a residential area that used to be condos so the rooms were in clusters of three in their own houses and had strangely spacious floor plans.
Psychologically, staying three nights is the best.
The other other day I went camping with Erica for her birthday. I brought my ski jacket and space blanket and puffy jacket and was totally ready for the cold. I wasn’t. I froze all night. Moving an inch in any direction exposed my body to like a -50 degree drop in temperature. It was ridiculous, my muscles were tensed and strained from trying not to move. I breathed in air that cored my soul. Erica’s sister had the right idea. She had two sleeping pads, a mummy sleeping bag inside of another sleeping bag, all under two more blankets on top. I need to go camping when it’s really hot. No more of this icicle living!
I chopped wood with an axe for the first time, which was satisfying.