I know we own it because my wife read it. I've seen it a hundred times, I know I have. The Black cover with an apple, I've seen it everywhere. Now that I'm actually looking for it I can't find it.
I looked everywhere for it and I realized that I have tons of books. I don't have my own library yet, but I'm pretty damn close.
Thanks to my days as an English Major, I have pretty much every book by Hemingway and Dickens. My Stephen King collection is about five acres worth of trees. Somehow I've amassed a considerable comic book collection as well. Thanks to a mother-in-law who doesn't quite know what to buy me for Christmas I have a half dozen or so books which feature born again Christian commentary on various pieces of work. I have all the Harry Potters all the Tolkens, all the Narnias. I have pretty much all the Chuck Palahniuks. I have tons of books on literary theory, tons of books of poetry, and tons of books of literary theory of poetry. I have the complete works of Shakespeare, the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe, and the complete Sherlock Holmes. I have a small collection of stupid, flash-in-the-pan psudo-religious books that my mom gave to me.
Looking for this book has reintroduced me to all of the books I have that I haven't read or completed yet. Still haven't finished Battle Royal yet. Ditto with the last Dark Tower book. Haven't cracked half of the Sherlock Holmes either. Heart of Darkness is still staring at me from the bookshelf as is Dorian Gray and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and its sister Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters.
When my wife came home I asked her if she knew where it was. She said yes and then proceeded to look in the exact same places I looked, which is our tradition. Our house isn't large and there is only so many places a thing can hide.
In the end I figure our cats must have done something with it. Perhaps they want to save me from the experience of reading it and thus ate it. Who knows. I'll probably end up buying it on the Kindle... though this is a problem as well. I share a Kindle account with my brother and if he sees this book on there he is sure to mock.
That's not what I wanted to talk about anyway. I wanted to talk about my wife and I going out to dinner.
Since I started my job as a Sports Writer we now find ourselves with a bit of money. Also, Beth's job just gave her health insurance so we are feeling particularly grown up. Anyway we wanted to celebrate a bit so we went out to eat tonight... or I should say last night as it's 2:32 AM right now.
We wanted to go to a place called Hot Mama's Pizza in Duck Creek as Beth did the Graphic Design for the whole shop. We loaded in the car and drove the hour over the icy, snowy mountain passes to Duck Creek only to find Hot Mama's closed.
It was a bit lonely at Duck Creek. The snow was packed higher than the car and the driveways to individual businesses looked like something out of Alaskan photos. There was only one place open. A small cafe called Aunt Sue's Chalet. Beth didn't want to go, but I was HONGRY so I insisted we stop and eat there.
The only other vehicles in the driveway was a 4-wheeler and a dog sled. When we went in we were greeted by a nice lady, Aunt Sue I reckon, and a surly looking fellow wearing insulated overalls... maybe Aunt Sue's Husband Uncle Dick. Other than that, the place was empty.
Something fun about being the only one in a restaurant. Makes me feel like I have servants or something.
We were seated and handed menus. That's when I saw my favorite set of words ever printed at a restaurant: "Breakfast Served All Day." I don't know why, but I always feel like I'm getting away with something somewhat perverse when I can order breakfast all day.
I got an order of biscuits and gravy and a ham steak. Beth ordered the 1/2 pound (!) bacon cheeseburger.
While we waited we watched some show on animal planet which wasn't about animals. It made me think about the sad decline of TLC into a never ending crapfest of fashion shows and DIY pornography.
The food was excellent. After dinner I got a slice of Mountain Berry Pie a-la mode and Beth got a cup of.... a-la mode. We ate desert while I made fun of people who think pets are psychic. When we paid the bill Aunt Sue told us that she thinks her own dog, a little rat who sleeps at her feet at night, is psychic. I wondered if she heard us talking and decided to give her two cents or if it was just one of those things she shares with everyone.
It was a nice little adventure: braving the treacherous roads (it was a two hour round trip and we saw a total of 4 other vehicles... not counting the dog sled) to discover a little out of the way cafe with awesome food.
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