The ache

Yesterday was nuts. We set out to meet someone in Poughkeepsie that was buying our old car. The thing we did not keep in mind was that we were setting out, the day after a nor'easter into the Hudson Valley. Why do we never think of these things? (can anyone else hear my mom sighing? or is that just me?)

Anyway, we were side-tracked and rerouted and managed to stretch a two hour trip into a four hour trip. We got to Poughkeepsie just before the DMV closed. So we were able to complete the transaction, sell the little cutie and be on our way.

The lesson I should have learned: use the overwhelming amount of information, here at my fingertips, to figure out road conditions before setting out on the day after a crazy storm.

The lesson I did learn: Barnes and Noble is a beautiful place.

As a New Yorker, I feel like I should not like Barnes and Noble. I should dig the independent book seller. I should avoid all things corportate. But, as a real live person, I love it. Me and B&N: BFF.

After a nutty day driving, eating fast food, avoiding car swallowing puddles, it was a wonderful feeling to walk into a Barnes and Noble. We passed a strip of Evil Box Stores and I spotted an arts and crafts megastore. So, I ran in there while Dave and Andrew went into B&N. When I was done in Michael's, I wandered into the B&N and the feeling of comfort and convience met me at the door. I walked in and realized: Everything was there. What do you want to know? What do you want to learn? It's here. It's pretty. It's easy to find. Way prettier and easier than a library (sorry Brooklyn Public Library, you will always have a special place in my heart-promise).

I went upstairs and found Andrew playing quietly with a train table while Dave was sitting nearby reading. This was also amazing to me. One place where Andrew can play and Dave can sit comfortably and read. We barely manage that at home! So I wandered around, soaking it all in. Wondering why this could possibly be bad.

As we left, the ache settled in. The ache to leave the city. The ache to join the rest of America in the suburbs and shop with them, frequently, at places like Barnes and Noble. The ache for convience.

Still a bit dizzy from the whole experience I forget. Why do we hate Barnes and Noble? Can anyone remind me? Or should I watch You've Got Mail again?

Actually, that's not a bad idea.
Meg, meet me on the couch. I'll be there in five.