Roland and I are planning to spend the long weekend on the Cape, which should be fun. There are many hostels down there, although a lot of them seem to only be open during the season, so maybe on our next trip. Unable to be a complete cheapskate, my second instinct is therefore to find a hotel room with a jacuzzi. Lots of possibilities there. Roland had no idea that, for a couple hundred bucks or so, one could find a historic b&b, furnished with antiques, and with a whirlpool in the room. I'm trying to be a bad influence on his frugal nature, but unfortunately, like me, the whirlpool in an otherwise very plain hotel room is more than adequate for him.
The other plan I have for spoiling his frugal nature involves alcohol, a risky enterprise given his family history, but I think safe, given his character. There isn't a cheaper state in the union to do this in, either, given New Hampshire's strategy for revenue enhancement. They don't have much, if any, tax on alcohol, but monopolize the sale and focus on selling tons o' hooch to people from nearby states that do tax alcohol. Think land pirates. Gotta love the Granite State. If only my representatives weren't such conservatives. In that, however, they are likely representing their constituency. Ah, well.
I found Glen Rothes in the Un-Chillfiltered line at the liquor store yesterday. Yum. I also picked up the latest Jennifer Crusie novel in hardcover. I can't say my life is complete, but if there are missing elements, they aren't obvious to me. Visualize me sitting on my ass watching soap operas and eating bon-bons, then replace the soap operas with cheezy novels and Stargate on DVD, and the bon-bons with a glass of single malt. You'll be a long way off, but it makes for a gemutlich image, doesn't it? Pity all those trips to the Y keep spoiling it.
Yesterday's outing to the Y was interesting. A leggy youngster, maybe 18 or 19 years old, was on the recumbent bike next to me. This would be my second half hour of cardio, so I was warmed up, and I was feeling good, because I'd talked on the phone to my cousin Brian and my friend Camilla and dropped off the checks for the hall rental for my wedding. This leggy youngster shows up about 5 minutes after I sit down, and proceeds to phone it in in the worst way, which is to say she kept looking over at my panel. Since she didn't seem to be motivated to ratchet her heart rate up above 140, and she was so interested in looking at my display, I figured I'd give her something to watch, and cranked my bpm up over 170 and left it there. Which makes it darned hard to read, and I'd just bought an Economist. Oh well. I'm sure it was good for me.