Other than it being April 1, what was up today? I took Sarcasm Girl to the pediatrician (I thought it was bronchitis; turned out to be an ear infection–how did I confuse the two?) and there was not only nowhere to park in the lot outside the medical building, but several cars were circling around, vulture-like, to be the first to any spot that opened up. I dropped the girl off and parked on the street. No harm, no foul.

After the doctor’s visit, we went up to the shopping center in Diamond Heights where our pharmacy is, to pick up medications (as a sidelight, I’m considering writing a children’s book to be called More Drugs for Betsy! or something like that. At the moment it’s a title-only project, but if anyone wants to collaborate, let me know). And here the problem was less that there weren’t any spaces than that people had parked in such a way as to render the adjacent spaces unusable except by motorcycles or palanquins. It’s not that I haven’t seen bad parking before, but I’ve rarely seen so much of it at one time.

Is it National Entitlement Day and I didn’t get the memo? I tend to check where I’ve parked when I get out, and am not above getting back in the car and repositioning it if I feel I’m too close to the next guy. (Too, we have a Honda Civic, which is a little smaller than an Escalade Pick-Up*.) But the cheery assumption, by the driver of the white Mazda convertible, that it was really not a problem if she parked diagonally across a space, fascinates me. I watched as the young woman (mid-20s, I’d guess) zipped into the lot, tore down one lane and up another, and swerved into a spot so that her front left bumper was about six inches from the car already parked in the left-adjacent slot, and her right rear bumper overhung the dividing line for the space by a good eighteen inches. Then she bounced out of the car and sauntered into the Safeway.

Okay, this is partly envy on my part: I can’t get away with this sort of behavior, not just because I’m not a cute blonde in my 20s with a Mazda, but because of my early bad training in not taking up other people’s space. Actually, I think that was, at least as far as parking is concerned, pretty good training. And the Cute Blonde isn’t alone, of course (or at least she wasn’t today).

So I ask again: was today National Park Like an Asshole Day?

*and why in God’s name would anyone who really wanted a pickup truck buy one from Cadillac? They look like tanks, but if I’m going to spend $66K for a vehicle, it’s not one I’m likely to be hauling ladders and paint and construction debris in. Or even mountain bikes or Jet Skis, which leave their own mechanical slime trails. I’m just sayin’.

From Locus:

Panic, hysteria, depression, and mass suicide struck the offices of Bantam Books today when New York Times bestselling author George R. R. Martin turned in a manuscript for the final book of his A Song of Fire and Ice series that came in at a concise 87 pages.

“As I sat down to write the book, I suddenly realized that I could tie everything up in a satisfying climax at novella length,” said Martin in a prepared statement. “Brevity being the soul of wit, I decided to do just that. I think all the fans of he series will be very pleased with the way it turned out.”

“The world is a black, hellish nightmare of unceasing despair and endless sorrow!” cried Martin’s editor Anne Groell, rending her garments as her editorial assistants stood wailing around her. “A stygian darkness descends, blotting out all life and hope! O Tempora! O Mores! My life work reduced to ashes before my eyes, leaving not but a voice and bitter weeping! Oh cruel fate! I die!” she declared, just before committing seppuku with a letter opener.

Read the entire story.