I'm in San Diego. My spirits are low tonight. I'm sitting on one of the beds in my hotel room having a staring contest with the creepy little girl in the painting on the wall. She's been eyeing me all night in her old fashioned, off the shoulder, blue dress and white bloomers, and enough is enough already. She appears eerily adult and emotionally unstable. The picture scares me. I feel like covering it with a t-shirt or something so I can relax. I don't know if I can sleep with this thing in here.

If you haven't guessed my feelings about this place, I'm just going to say it. The hotel sucks. I'm really excited about the conference itself--the sessions and events sound great--but living here for a few days is going to be tough. I don't know what the conference planners were thinking. The rooms cost a lot and are horrid.

My room is tiny and smells vaguely of sweat, especially near the nightstand. Blue is the color of choice. Blue carpet, blue floral bedspreads and matching curtains (along with blue dust ruffle-like things hanging from the ceiling above the beds--pointless), blue upholstered chairs, scuffed and spotted blue and white striped wallpaper that is peeling in several places. Blue. One of the blue chairs has suspicious white spots on it. I don't even want to think about what that could be. The complex is large with several different buildings. Mine is a two story hovel far away from the main area, and my room is on the first floor. The windows are made of very thin glass, and while I feel safe enough with all the shrubs and landscaping around it, I can hear, loud and clear, the constant drone of the nearby freeway. The outside looks better at night. It's all about soft lighting. There is a bottle of warm Aquafina sitting on the counter in the bathroom with a card informing me that it's there for my enjoyment (warm water is so satisfying), but if I choose to drink it, I will be charged $2.50.

Hmmm. Was just reminiscing with my sister over IM about this real dive hotel we stayed at with the family in Schuyler, NE when we visited the hometown as teenagers. We found a half eaten crumbled cookie and toenail clippings down the side of the bed. Ew, ew, ew. Toenail clippings and the Roach Motel from the road trip rank right up there with this place, although at least you didn't expect much for the price of the first two.

I want to go home.

Better yet, could someone rescue me please? I know that's lame, but I'm so sleepy and just want to be whisked away to a lovely hotel with a nice smell, clean everything, free water, soft sheets and a bathtub with jets and schmancy bubble bath. I'm going to close my eyes and pretend that's where I'm at as I fall asleep to the sounds of the freeway.