(no subject)

[cyrano]

Zoomed across the bridge to Jantzen Beach and waited for Chang's to open so I could have yummy mongolian grill (Su's is good and has the hole in the wall charm, but it's just not the same.) This leisurely lunch was the last peace I would have for some time. As I discovered some time later, it was Rose Parade Weekend and therefore completely insane. I'd forgotten you can't turn left across Burnside and so, although I managed to avoid getting dumped back onto I5, I still spent about 45 minutes trying to make the three crucial right turns in downtown Portland that equate to the one left I needed in order to get to the Powell's parking lot.
Now.
For those of you unfamiliar with Powell's City of Books, yes it's an entire city block and yes it's seven stories tall and yes it is spreading like a particularly virulent cancer to several othercampus sites. But the important part is the parking garage on property. It's narrow, steep, tiny--there are about sixteen parking spaces per level, arranged on the square, with a large central support and eight additional posts separating the tiny driving space from the tiny parking spaces. And I in my rented Mustang (larger in every dimension than my usual hoopty ride and with the steering capability of a cow) did a lot of backing up and trying again. I don't know how fussy, in general, rental agencies are about scrapes, bumps, missing panels, etc. But they haven't complained yet. Anyway, I only hit the central support once, and scraped the post ... maybe two or three times before finally parking. I decided to walk down to the dragon gates, because I'd never actually seen them beyond driving past. A block past Powell's, the heavens opened and it became much easier to walk as the sidewalks cleared. I admired restaurants (from the outside--I just ate lunch) and smelled a spice shop extensively while trying not to drip on anything. There were a couple of tchochke shops--I don't know the appropriate Chinese word for tchochke--and a brief stop at the porn store which was disappointingly like other porn stores but with a smaller selection.
Back to Powell's for a few hours (long enough that my jacket was dry when I left), and I managed to only spend in the double digits. I found a copy of CE Murphy's hot new novel but there was only one so I decided to order mine through Amazon and leave that copy for shelf space to ambush somebody unsuspecting who might not otherwise buy a copy. I eyed the GURPS Black Ops book again, but decided that $10 could be better spent elsewhere. Like the Taltos 'combined books', Sarah Vowell, Neal Stephenson, several leftist propaganda tracts, a new Datlow/Windling anthology, and the last two copies of the Kushiel books (used). Which brings me to my poignant commentary on Powell's. It seems there are almost no used books there any more. It's all 'books the publisher didn't want any more so we bought them in bulk for total cheapness' or new books. Which, you'll note, didnt' stop me from buying enough books to throw my shoulder out when I packed them into my carry on luggage.
Holy crap. This is wordy. LJ Cuts for everybody!
Anyway. I found the location of my horn before I tried to descend the south face of the parking garage (they highly recommend turning on your headlights and honking your horn at every corner to avoid collisions since there's only one lane. Or really two-thirds of a lane). Portland traffic may have been worse because of the parade, but Portland drivers are growing to be nearly the same size of assholes that bay area drivers are. I am disturbed by this trend. Crossed the river again to Vancouver, home of the party.
I didn't want to look lame by showing up early, and so I took lots of time picking up snackies at WalGreen's and getting Frangelico at the liquor store down the street (neither of which I remembered to steal the leftovers of) and window shopping in leisurely fashion. But I still managed to be the first person there.
Which was okay, because I got some quality Jess time as she wasn't terribly overwhelmed with pre-party duties. Yay snuggles.
I didn't know a lot of people there, and there were a lot of people there. So I did the usual tactic of withdrawing outside (where it had stopped raining) at frequent intervals for breathing space. Because I don't introduce myself to strangers well. And so it was very nice when Jess dragged somebody over to me and said 'I paid this person to talk to you!' She was a charming conversationalist, and coincidentally another published author to add to my trophy wall of Published Authors I have spoken with in a social setting. (Lilith SaintCrow for those who are keeping score at home.)
Anyway. There was also more quality Jess time, and it was very lovely and lots of fun and very sad. And Patrick who is wonderful made breakfast pancakes and there was some tidying and forgetting to steal leftovers and failing to get one last bowl of Patrick's world famous jambalaya.
All in all there was very little in the way of sleeping, and lots of compensating with caffeine, and now I'm home and in something of a stupor and not getting anything done. Bupkes. I started a load of laundry. No grocery shopping. Lots of sitting and staring into space. And good lord like an hour writing this.

Comments

[tavella.livejournal.com]

It seems there are almost no used books there any more.

Aw! That's sad, I thought Powell's was all about the used books.

[cyranocyrano.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well that's a wellspring from which my disappointment bubbles forth, fresh and cold as the mountains themselves. q:

[lilithsaintcrow.livejournal.com]

I think it's a question of which Powell's you go to. I find lots of cool stuff at the Powell's on Burnside, including a whole shelf of Bulwer-Lytton (fun to read and gag at) and many Loeb Classical Library texts. Conversely, at the Powell's in Beaverton, I didn't see a lot of used stuff on the shelves, especially Tanith Lee (who I check for in every bookstore.) Although Powell's in Beaverton does have Danielle, who is a smashing buying agent as well as a wonderful person...

Glad to be added to the "published" wall, but can you take the hook out of my back? LOL

[-------rook.livejournal.com]

It's amusing/weird to read about your PDX adventures, just across the bridge. Glad it sounds like you're enjoying my turf. ;)

[cyranocyrano.livejournal.com]

I have been enjoying your turf for years, little bird. Perhaps even before you were born. (: (But I like it better when there are fewer Rose Parades.)