Fun, fun

So, have I mentioned the great independent bookstore in Bellingham, Washington? It's about an hour from here, not including time spent twiddling thumbs in a border line-up. Anyway, they have a free membership program which I joined. In your birthday month they send you a postcard which gets you 1% off any book of your choice for every year of your age. Cool! I drove down there yesterday and met up with a friend for lunch, then browsed kid-free for *several* hours. Mindful of the $60 import limit when leaving the country for less than 24 hrs, I did not spend very much money on books, but I did come home with the new Amy Tan novel, and a used copy of the Da Vinci Code, among other things.

Alas, I decided to sit down and enjoy a slice of homemade cheesecake and a latte with my new books and the waitress did NOT bring me the decaf that I requested. Unfortunately, the only way to learn that is to drink the coffee and then slowly realize the effect it's having, so I spent the rest of the day feeling nauseous and jittery. I also suspect that my body may be courting whatever flu bug Calum brought home the other day, though luckily his case was extremely short-lived.

I noticed the border crossing guard seemed much more suspicious of me yesterday than usual. I realize a lot has to do with who you're talking to, what kind of mood they're in, whether it's a holiday weekend, etc, but he asked me all kinds of questions such as "do you own the van?" "How did you meet the friend you're visiting?" and even walked to the back window and peered in to see all the crap we carry around in our van. The Canadian border crossing guards are never so suspicious when I'm on my way back home. I wonder if they treat Americans the same way that the American guards treat us?