The Hotel Cure
Sorry for the delay in writing. I have been so busy with work and feeling a bit like I am losing my sense of humour. I have also been travelling a lot.
Monday and Tuesday I went to Dublin for a bunch of meetings. I have been winging around by plane, train and car for the last couple months and am really exhausted. Luckily, my holiday is only a couple weeks away.
On this last trip, I felt the need to spoil myself a little bit so I booked myself in to a 5-star boutique hotel in Dublin - called The Dylan Hotel.
The Dylan Hotel is scrumptious. Really. My every need was meticulously catered for and my room had the coolest gadgets, equipment, super elegant soaps, vanity kits, shoe shine, excellent mini bar and really amazing furniture. Just sitting on the bed made me drool. (not really, but I wanted to)
I am used to pretty nice hotels, but I usually have to hit the hotels that cater for the typical business traveller. All of us lugging our super small overnight suitcases and our laptop briefcases over our shoulders. Grouchy because we had a long day and need some sanity and sleep.
I have a hotel routine. When I get in to the room - I do a 20-second recon on all of the amenities making sure there's a hair dryer, iron, face washcloth (not standard in Europe), check the TV, and the lock on the door. Then I carefully unpack and hang/up or lay out my clothes for the next day with the suitcase all ready for fast packing in the morning. In the bathroom, I lay out the bath mat and check the plumbing - ALWAYS check the plumbing. In Europe, do not take for granted that showers and faucets are easy to use or even work - no matter how many stars the hotel has. (I forgot to do this when in Montpellier a couple months ago and after a very long night out with my VP and many too many Mojito's, I discovered the shower function didn't work in my room - running late as it was, and I ended up laying down in the tub to get my hair washed under the tap - very nice and elegant and classy.) Often in England the sink in the bathroom has a hot water tap and a cold water tap - so you can't regulate the temp of water out of the faucet, you have to fill the sink with a little of both to get the right temp and splash from there - hate that soooo much.
Ok - after all checks have been done I work or relax or work out or eat or whatever. I do my hotel thing. Most of the time I channel surf TV stations I don't usually have access to. If I am late arriving to the hotel, I usually order room service for dinner. I don't like to eat alone in a hotel restaurant. When I do, I get hit on all the time and frankly, I don't have the willpower to resist half of those times. No strings attached, pure pleasure, steamy, sex with a good looking businessman I don't ever have to see in the morning or call is pretty tempting. I am trying to be good though!
At the Dylan - I was so in love with my room (and completely exhausted anyway) there was no thought of going down to the fancy bar and resto for me. I was going to have 5 star, in-room dining, a hot bath with rose petals and then sink in to the delicious bed. Had I wanted hotel tryst, the fancy mini bar in my room thoughtfully included an 'Intimacy kit' - complete with condoms, and hygienic wash packets - how sweet! Wonder what the refrigeration does to a condom?
Anyway - after a wonderful night, sleeping like and angel, I woke to the splendor of my room and was instantly in a good mood. I love beds set on really high frames with huge thick mattresses. And I love jumping down from the bed in the morning - it feels so luxurious. Showered, pampered myself and dressed for my meeting, I went down to breakfast. The dining room was incredible - Very Alice in Wonderland with harlequin-studded, cushioned booths in ivory velvet and each table in the middle set with curved back chairs. The end of the room was dramatically set with chairs with huge tall backs shaped like the Mad Hatter's hat.
Breakfast was a bit dissapointing. I think if anything, a hotel should be able to make a good plate of eggs. And that's really the only thing this place screwed up a bit. It didn't matter because a handsome maitre'd chatted to me through breakfast and practically wiped toast crumbs from my lips as and when needed.
The hotel set me off for a wonderful day and I had several meetings with a customer which all went well. I was in such a good mood, I radiated happiness. I was on form and sharp.
Even at the end of a very long day, in the pouring rain and wind, I made it to the airport with a smile. And that's saying something, because Dublin airport is like going to a cheap holiday camp. Long lines, people, disorganisation and garbagy crap all over the place.
By the time I got to my gate - with a serious detour through the duty free perfume and Clinique counters I was just about to lose my shine when I locked eyes with Mr. Hottie at gate A27.
Not to exaggerate or anything, but he was absolutely, totally, amazingly, the perfect guy for me. 6 ft 4 or so, brown hair, blue eyes, about my age, nice suit - not OTT style, prominent nose, good teeth (a must), a very slight tan, strong hands, and a smile directed right at me - Yum - eee.
OK - we chatted. Our planes delayed in the bad weather he bought me a smoothie. Planes delayed again, he bought me a drink. My plane was delayed again, he bought me another drink and we had a small bite to eat. Then, all of a sudden, my flight was ready to go sooner than the expected delay and we had to scramble back to the gate. Damn.
Oh what I could have done!!! One more delay and I would have called the Dylan hotel and asked for my room back!.....And an extra 'Intimacy Kit'.
http://www.dylan.ie/gallery.php
Life is like a Box of Missing Chocolates
My family has always been a Mother's day, Father's day, and birthday family. My parents insisted that we celebrate each occasion somehow. Birthday's though, are second to Mother's and Father's days by a long shot. Mother's day and Father's day my parents expected full-on productions.
My father grew up as a lonely, only child whose parents often left him in their chi chi apartments at night while they went to the Stork Club or some fancy lounge. I think he craved that wholesome traditional family life that was probably advertised in black and white Time magazines and billboards while he grew up.
Mom was the fifth of 5 children in relatively poor Japanese American family farming and picking fruit for major canning companies in California. Her mother died when she was 5 years old. Her father passed away a few years after they got out of WWII internment camps in the west and south-west of the states.
Somehow, my parents got me and my brother to make breakfast and serve it to them in bed on their special day. We were already dab hands at making breakfast on Saturday's and Sunday's starting from very young. Mom and Dad would lay in bed and let us prepare the breakfast and call them down to the kitchen on a regular weekend. David would make the eggs and bacon or sausage and make toast - because he was 4 years older. I was in charge of setting the table and making the orange juice. Back then you had those small frozen cans of concentrated oj which you emptied into a jug with 3 cans of water. Mix and dissolve the frozen lumps and voila crappy oj. Breakfast is still David's specialty.
Anyway, on the 'occasion' days, they expected the royal treatment. A gift, a flower in a small vase, both nestled next to a nice breakfast served on a tray to them in bed. The alternate parent would take photos. Really.
As the years went along - it was expected that we would perform this duty on each occasion. I think Mom and Dad felt entitled to some special attention on their special days.
My brother became a bit wild and naughty in his early teens and started to branch out of the family patterns. He slept in on Mother's Day or Father's day and would have to be roused angrily. He started to go away or plan things like attending his Civil Air Patrol meetings on Sundays to avoid the guilt of not wanting to make a fuss over Mom and dad. That left me to deal with it myself.
Into adulthood, my brother had almost completely abandoned any participation in these events. We had graduated from serving breakfast in bed on MOther's and Father's day to going out to brunch. Just. I think I still came over to my folks house on Mother's Day and Father's day with gifts and flowers early enough to make breakfast in bed for a good few years after I graduated college. At this time, I would have to beg my brother to come along to brunch - if he wasn't too busy. He usually was.
Both Mom and Dad had this guilt inspiring sigh that said 'Oh well.. guess he doesn't care. (referring to my brother) At least you're here.' Gee thanks. And from that moment on - it was my fate to make sure any and every occasion was properly recognised.
When I moved to Europe 8 years ago. I was still in the guilt grip of feeling like I had to make up for my brother not participating in family. I sent massive gift boxes to both Mom and Dad for their birthdays, Mother's day and Father's day each year. I would call as usual on the Sunday and listen to them opening the gifts and ooing and aahing over them.
No small amount of effort those boxes! Usually a shoe or boot box packed with anywhere from 5-9 wrapped pressies - try doing this for years without too many repeat items. Key chains, ties, pocket silks, perfume, scented soap, candies, exotic spices - you name it. I must be mad. But I think I compensate for my guilt of being so far away from them by trying to lavish them with goodies. It's a huge pain though. Now, sadly - but kind of gladly, my gift box production has halved due to Dad not being around anymore.
Mailing from Belgium can be hell. I have mailed things that have never arrived. I have mailed things that take 3 months and have had packages which arrive in 2 days - presumably by accident. Completely unpredictable. In order to use Belgian post, I have to plan well ahead and send the box early so it's there in time. A few times, the box hadn't made it until the day after or so. I could hear the guilt being manufactured in each syllable by my mother - 'it's all right...I don't need anything for Mother's day....' usually followed with 'it's not as if I will hear from your brother anyway...' Knife, now deep and twisting...Guilty as charged: I should have taken a day off work and mailed the package 13 weeks ago so Mom would not have to suffer so. Bad child!
So, this year, I was prepared. I planned a few weekends ago to do all my shopping, pack the box and get it in the mail nice and early. My plan would have worked beautifully if only I had not gotten terribly sick with a stomach virus. Really sick. I practically dragged by bed in to the rest-room. Sorry, but that's the only way to describe how sick I was.
So when Mom called to find out how I was, I said I couldn't do the shopping for Mother's day as I was so sick and the package wouldn't get there in time if I didn't. (I was hoping she would say 'forget it - Don't send me anything get better and don't worry about any of that') But she replied: 'Oh well, that's OK, Mother's day is still ages away. You have plenty of time...' Yes she did. And she also said. 'I am sure I won't hear one word from your brother....'. Knife, deep, twisting. got...to... get... out...of death...bed and shop for chocolate, perfume, marmalade, crap...send ...to...mother.
No, sorry. too sick.
As I lay there dying (not really) - I decided I would fed ex the package at the last moment and buy myself some time. You would think....
I set the fed ex box out yesterday to be picked up. Fed ex man came. rejected the package as it said these were gifts including food (chocolate, candies, olive oil some other stuff). In order to ship food to USA - one had to make 4 copies of a pro forma invoice itemising the contents and sign each copy. He left and I did as told and had to call them for another pick up. He came later that afternoon and very reluctantly took the package.
Fed ex is the company with the line 'When it absolutely, positively has to be there overnight' right? Well, good news everyone! My package has made it to the USA.... But fed Ex called and the FDA is holding it because I did not register for a Prior Notification that I was shipping food for import to the USA. It's a fucking mother's day gift, you would think I was trrying to send a warehouse full of olives and sun dried tomatoes for crap's sake!!
I was informed that I had to go to the
FDA Registrar Corp website and register myself and then get confirmation numbers for each item of food I had sent - for which I needed prior notification. Really. This never ever happened when I sent parcels through the regular Belgian post. Fed ex must be too organised and scrutinised. Damn.
So I do all this extra stuff. Close to 2 hours of paperwork and phone calls etc. I had to pay another $14.95 for the registration by the way...And as I am about to log off this web site, I catch some fine print at the bottom of the screen.
FDA Registrar Corp assists businesses with FDA compliance. FDA Registrar Corp is not affiliated with the US Food & Drug Administration. A brilliant money-making ruse. Damn. I bet one can go directly to FDA site and get registration and Prior Notice stuff without paying...I bet Fed Ex gets a slice of the fee...damn. What a pain. Grr.
I have done all I can. If Miss 'Me Myself and I' doesn't get her Mother's day box on time then so be it. I have tried. If my brother doesn't call, it won't be a surprise. If she tries to make me feel guilty, I will not let her. I can only do my best.
Life really is like a box of missing Chocolates. You pretty much know what you're going to get.
