duck-shaped pain

Oh well. I did manage to get a few books, including ones that I'd actually read myself. I also found a nice heavy glass pitcher, which is something I needed. I didn't find any clothes that I wanted, though. They do have some nice clothes there (all for super-cheap), but they were donated by the town's many Skinny Rich Ladies, so it was hopeless.

Ultimately, though, I ended up finding some clothes that I wanted. I bought this coat (in the blue) and a red shirt. The former is the first piece of navy blue clothing I've owned in quite some time, but it's a nice dark navy, which is nice. Normally, I consider navy blue to be the Color of Mediocrity, but if it's more dark than it is blue, it's acceptable.

I walked around a lot, mostly watching people. There are some frightening sorts that are let loose in that town. One that I remember vividly is a very tall woman who was hanging out in front of the grocery store. She had on a big round brown fur hat that added about six or seven inches to her height, and she was smoking two cigarettes at the same time. She had a full-body ski suit on, which was decorated with large pictures of neon-pink strawberries. Completing the outfit where some scraggly, dingy white fur boots and a pair of big blue mittens. She was very involved in her two cigarettes -- you could see her concentrate deeply with every inhalation.

Aspen has one really nice bookstore. It's tiny, due to its location in an old house. So everything is kind of crowded in with everything else, but they have a really nice selection for a store of its size. I always find things there that I've been looking for, or things I didn't know I wanted.

Since I was there last time, they've expanded the place a bit, which is a good thing. This is because there is also a coffeeshop/restaurant in the store, and the tables were set amongst the books. With space being at a premium, this means that you could be looking at some books and be ass-to-elbow with some unfortunate diner. One wrong move, and you've knocked over their coffee or dropped something splat in their vegan pecan pie.

Now they have a separate room for the restaurant, and it's a nice one. Huge windows, lots of place, very airy atmosphere. It's set high up, so you get a decent view of the town and the mountain from it. A pleasant place to sit for an hour or so and write in your journal.

The coffee is excellent, too, if a bit pricey and pretentious. [1] Each diner is served coffee in tiny, individual-size French presses, which is probably why it's so tasty. But no cream. They don't believe in it. I asked for cream and was told that they only served rice milk with the coffee. Which is not half-and-half, not by a long shot. But they served plenty of white, white sugar to go with the coffee -- puzzling. It was still good, sans cream, but I've never thought of the presence of half-and-half as being some sort of moral issue.

On my way back home, I encountered probably the worst high-occupancy-vehicle lane setup that I've ever encountered. Colorado 82, which winds through the mountains between Glenwood Springs and Aspen, is a narrow road, with one lane some of the way and two lanes at most the rest of the time. At certain times of the day, one of these two lanes becomes a HOV lane. For some reason, it is the right lane, not the left. So you have a congested, slow-moving left lane, and a nearly as congested, yet faster-moving right lane. The catch here is that people in the slow left lane are not allowed to use the right lane to pass even slower people. But cars in the faster right lane are allowed to change lanes to pass. Worse, the road narrows to just one lane at seemingly random intervals, slowing traffic even more. And then, when it widens, the HOV lane setup returns. So confusing. So when this ends, when there are two normal lanes that anyone, regardless of number of friends or family size, can inhabit, people celebrate by changing lanes often, and at high speeds.

It's probably no coincidence that this road is the first place I've ever seen these signs:

Road Rage?

Call

*CSP

"*CSP" presumably being the way to summon the state patrol via cell phone.

Then I got home and made soup.

[1] Two things which are required by town ordinance, I think.

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