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Booksale: Rethought

To catch you up:  The Booksale takes place in Phoenix every February.  I have gone for as long as I have known it existed.  600,000 books are sold in two days, $1 for paperback and $2 for hardback.  Clearly, this is the most awesome thing ever.  Check it out here and here, mark your calendars and I’ll see you in Phoenix next year.

I started planning my book-buying extravaganza trip to Phoenix last February.  I made mental lists of the books I wanted.  I studied the layout of the booksale.  I plotted the best way to hit all the sections I wanted to pillage in the most efficient order.  There were spreadsheets.

In addition to planning my way around the booksale, I also made lists of places I’d like to visit in Phoenix.  I’ve been to the city several times, what with the booksale runs and all, but I haven’t really done anything but the booksale.  This year Handsome & I were planning on being in Phoenix for a few extra days and I was dead-set on making those few days count.

Goodness, the Booksale is legendary in my mind and–quite possibly–my most looked-forward-to event of the year.  Twelve months of planning, dreamy, list-making.  All for a few hours in a warehouse with hundreds of thousands of books and thousands of bibliophiles.  Mmmmmm, I get excited just thinking about it.

Six weeks ago I emailed a friend of mine to see if we could crash at her house.  Handsome & I stayed there last year and she assured me then that we were welcome again.  Of course I emailed her, just to double check.  She responded with a “COME ON DOWN!”  Saweet!  A few weeks later I emailed again with an approximate itinerary and my friend responded again with a “Can’t wait to see you!”

I printed out directions.  I finalized my lists.  I packed.  I checked my email one last time before going to work and–straight from work–hitting the road to Phoenix.  There was an email from my Phoenix friend, and as I read it I couldn’t help but feel my throat close off and, admittedly, a tear or two fall.  We wouldn’t be able to stay there after all.  Something had come up, nothing dramatic or tragic, no one was hurt or in danger.  But we wouldn’t be able to stay there.  May I remind you, I was practically walking out the door.  There was no time to re-plan.  No time to make other arrangements.  No time to edit the spreadsheets to somehow arrange housing.  And, what with the Booksale being on Valentine’s Weekend, and current budgetary restrictions, there was no way I could splurge for a hotel on such short notice.  Well, I suppose I could…but that would blow all of my book-buying money, and frankly, that just defeats the purpose, now doesn’t it.

I understand last-minute “emergencies” and changes in plans and all that…but what. the. hell.  I am not blaming my Phoenix friend, it wasn’t really something she could control.  I am blaming The Universe.  What on earth did I do to earn this?  Talk about major disappointment, I can’t even describe how incredibly sad I felt.  And hurt.  And pissed off at The World.  My book-buying pilgrimage that I have been looking forward to for a solid 12 months; cancelled at the last minute.  I’m still heart-broken about the whole thing, actually.

Handsome & I had a lovely staycation here, and he did the truly gentlemanly thing and took me on my own book-buying spree at Barnes & Noble for my birthday.  (Can I hear a collective “Awwwww!”)  We had sushi for lunch, went shopping, ordered dinner to go, went to the movies with my best friend & her hubby, tried a new ice-cream place, took a couple of afternoon naps, slow-danced, played around in the snow and snuggled while watching TiVo.  It really was a perfect weekend.  It wasn’t my anticipated weekend, but it was perfect.

Also, in better news, my brother is moving to Phoenix in a few weeks and he is obligated to put me up next year for the Booksale.  And he will have a pool with a waterfall.  Yes, plans for next year’s Booksale are already in place, I have all those spreadsheets after all.

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