[frowny face]

The Internet connection one gets in a hotel room hardly makes Atlantic City worthwhile. Not for someone who doesn't gamble (not that I could... best case scenario I make a couple bucks and don't get caught, all the while TERRIFIED that I'll hit the jackpot, and summarily be arrested), or swim (of course, it's fifty degrees in the sun... the water is ice cold and there are exactly zero ladies in bikinis), or shop (the one mall is closed, anyway; the remainder is a shanty town of identical souvenier stands, snack bars, and palm readers). Sigh. Ah, well. At least I'm catching up on my sitting around. And my mother and grandmother are enjoying themselves. And I could always try my hand at writing terrible, self-pity-wallowing poetry. Laissez les bonne temps rouler, as they say: You (formal, implied) allow the good [fem.] times/events/weather to roll. Somehow, it just sounds better in French.