my life
sit in park like old woman
enjoying the sun
waiting for the perfect man
sit in park like old woman
enjoying the sun
waiting for the perfect man
Watching life fly by
New horizons
Yesterday I got back from my two week vacation. Because I travel so much, I wanted to stay local, which meant stateside to me. I wanted to do absolutely nothing, not think about work, and just relax and catch up with good friends. I’d say I achieved that and more.
Stacy, Jimmy, and Bella on Catalina Island
I went to California to visit some of my peeps. I have some great friends there, including Jimmy and Stacy, and their new edition, Bella, who live in LA, as well as a host of others who are in the California area. I have been there many times, and felt like it would be a great place to fully relax and try to decompress.

Sweet Bella
And I learned a lot on this trip. I have never gone on a vacation with nothing planned, like… ever! I am the kind of person who takes a trip to some exotic location with a purpose and explores and immerses myself into the local culture. But since I travel so much for work – particularly this year – the last thing I wanted to do was any of that. I wanted to just sit. And relax. And listen. And talk. Lesson Learned: Everyone needs downtime, even a huge extrovert like me.
I also realized that I work A LOT. I know I visit many interesting locations, but I discovered that working is pretty much all I do. I saw that the people I visited have a healthy work life balance. Work life balance is something that I always thought I have (I do play hard when I’m not working), but seeing others lives helped me truly understand that I am nowhere near achieving it. Balance means that the scale is not heavily tilted in one direction, like it is for me. Just because I play hard doesn’t mean that I’m not working way more than I should be. Lesson Learned: I will begin tilting the work/life balance scale back to center starting now.
Steph and I in Pacifica
I also grasped just how important great friends are. I have always felt like I have the most wonderful friends – all over the world – but this trip sharpened that picture for me. I cannot begin to express how appreciative I am of all the people I visited while in CA (especially the ones I stayed with a long time – Stacy & Jimmy/Steph & Bry) and for all the lovely things we experienced together. We talked, laughed, cried, shared, relaxed – all together. It sounds corny, but we created memories that will last us a lifetime and I truly enjoyed every moment I spent with each person.
Soon into my trip I noticed that I was not just on a vacation, but on a baby-cation. Many of my friends have recently had kids (or are about to have them), so this was my opportunity to spend some quality time with the parents (and parents-to-be) and get to know the kids as well. It was wonderful getting to see there new lives and live it (for a little while) with them.
What I grasped is that it isn’t the things you do, but the experiences you have that are important. Every person I stayed with said the same thing, “My life has really changed now that I ______” (have a child, am pregnant, am working, fill in with whatever). I didn’t care about that – what was essential to me was spending time with my amazing friends. Therefore I didn’t mind doing whatever it was I was doing at the time. Be it: Spending time watching a toddler get excited over a puppy. Listening to a newborn wail. Talking about the adventures and craziness of pregnancy. I can honestly say that at that moment, I couldn’t imagine any other way I’d have wanted to spend my time.
So my biggest lessons learned: Remember to be present in the moment. And cherish your friends. I wouldn’t change anything about my trip. I experienced exactly what I wanted. And thanks to each of you who helped me have a fantastic vacation. You guys are what made it great!!
Whose foot is that?
You must read on and all will be revealed.
I’ve been busy since going to Romania… worked in Amsterdam and DC for a week each, and have been hanging out in Boston trying to get a bunch of programs rolled out before going on vacation (which I am on now). I’ve been a bit stressed and nothing terribly exciting has been going on that warranted a blog entry.
I am now living the good life on vacation in California. This is the view of all the boats from where I’m staying in Marina Del Ray.

And here I am sailing (2 days in a row now!)
But that’s not why I’m writing…
Let’s figure out whose foot that is. About a month ago, I went to a dinner at Banq for a friend’s birthday. I was coming back from the facilities when I looked over at a table and saw Ben Affleck. I thought, “Oh, there’s Ben Affleck…” I wasn’t very exciting because I’m not a real fan of Ben’s, but I kept looking because it didn’t quite look like him. Now let me just say – I’m not the kind of person who does a lot of people watching and I pretty much never notice when there is anyone famous around. You can imagine that this was an unusual moment for me. But I really wasn’t excited because Ben doesn’t do it for me.
But as I looked closer, I realized that while it looked like Ben, it wasn’t. It was actually Ron Livingston. RON LIVINGSTON!!! From Office Space! Burger! Band of Brothers!!! I have had a super crush on him since I saw him in Office Space. That movie was an exact replica of my life at the time (kicking the shit out of the fax machine, not stealing money or kissing Jennifer Aniston) and really resonated with me. I was psyched to actually see my hero from the movie.
He saw me looking at him, and so here we are… me watching him, him watching me watch him and instead of heading back to my seat with my back to him, I move to the other side of the table so I can look at him. He’s realized that I’ve realized who he is and I begin to get super excited.
To me, this wasn’t just a celebrity… it was RON LIVINGSTON, my hero! I don’t usually get star struck (after all, I usually don’t even notice celebrities because I am not paying enough attention), but I’m seriously pumped to see Ron. My mind is going a mile a minute about what I will or won’t do about this situation. I watch them eat while furiously texting all my friends.
He is sitting there with 3 other people, so all together two guys and two gals. When the girls both go to the to toilet, I couldn’t hold back, even though I had decided in my head I wasn’t going to do anything. I had to head over to say something, even though I really should let the poor guy eat in peace. But I just couldn’t. And this, ladies and gentleman, is what I said to the man in my most glorious and shining moment.
Dawn: “I’m not going to say anything….. but I am a HUGE fan.”
I’m not going to say anything? Really? That is what I’m going to say to the guy? Really?
He was very gracious in my moment of idiocy though, and said, “Thank you very much.” I had enough wits around me to turn around in my seat and be absolutely mortified in my dessert. What a loser thing to say to someone you are huge fan of.
A few moments later he got up and walked out. I’ll just mention this because it bugged me. He had on a button down shirt tucked into jeans with nice shoes – WITHOUT A BELT! Need I remind him that he is a MOVIE STAR? I’m no queen of fashion, but I at least know to wear a belt when tucking in anything. That was disappointing, but didn’t ruin my excitement.
Someone above is watching me and thinking I need some celebrity sightings, because then just a few weeks after that I was at a sushi restaurant called Duozo in Boston where I saw another famous character.
I was sitting at the bar waiting for a table when I saw someone walk in the door. He started bouncing and dancing to the music and, forgive me, my first thought was ‘look at that loser dancing’ – No judgments here! When he walked in and I could fully see him I realized that it looked like David Spade in a goofy trucker hat. I thought, ‘Nah, probably not him’, but then this glamazon followed him in who was about 13 feet tall, weighed about 80 lbs, and was about 21 years old. Need I remind you that David Spade is about 4 feet tall? Only David Spade would have a woman looking like that with him. While I sat waiting for a table, they were immediately whisked off to their table.
Now seriously, these things don’t usually phase me, but to have *three* brushes with fame in a matter of weeks is just too much. And though I really love Ron Livingston, I think this one is most exciting.
While waiting at the airport to board my flight to California on Friday, I am looking around and there is this woman standing near me in line and I keep thinking that she is a movie star but I cannot for the life of me place her. It was right on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t figure it out.
When I board and sit down, the guy next to me says, “Do you know you are sitting right in front of the woman from the movie Airplane?” Ah hah!!! That is it! No kidding, Julie Hagerty is sitting right behind me. When we take off, I notice that there is a dog right behind me, so I turn around and CASUALLY strike up a conversation with her and her husband. (uh huh, yeaaaaahhhh…. right, casually!) Her dog’s name is Howard and he likes to eat airplane dinners.
She doesn’t look like she has aged one day – she looks exactly the same as she did in the movie. And she has that same squeaky voice that she had in the movie as well. But she is very, very nice and kind. Definitely a gracious movie star.
So, whose foot is that? Julie Hagerty, of course. That is as close I got to getting a picture with her. Right before I asked her if she could speak jive.
Dracula biting me
The only thing I knew about Romania before I went there was the Dracula was from there. I got really excited to find out that one night we would have dinner at the Count Dracula Club, where you have dinner and Dracula himself makes an appearance for a short show.
Once arriving in Bucharest, you find out much more detail about Dracula – how his name was actually Vlad Tepes – or Vlad the Impaler – and that he had been a fearless and brutal ruler in the 1400’s. He had apparently spent several years as a teenager in a Turkish prisoner where he was tortured by unspeakable means. This led to him then showing them the same respect when they attacked Transylvania, and apparently staked them through the anus in such a way that it hit none of the vital organs and took the prisoners two excruciatingly long days to finally die. Meanwhile, he enjoyed having his lunch while watching them flail around. Not a pleasant thought.
That aside, the Romanians seem to think quite highly of him. He was the first leader ever able to actually fight off perpetrators and have them stay away. I don’t know, but the stake story alone would keep me as far away as possible.
Palace of the Parliment
But the respect they apparently have for Vlad does not translate over to their nearby neighbors, the Russians. The Romanians have nothing good to say about them at all, and in fact are quite negative towards them. The fact that their country was clearly torn apart at the hands of communism appears to play a large part in this. In the 1980’s, the communists led by Nicolae Ceausescu, leveled thousands of beautiful homes and buildings to put in large, communist style bloc apartment buildings. The most prominent of which is the Palace of the Parliament, which was built at the cost of razing 1/5 of the city. It is enormous, with 330,000 sq meters, and is the 2nd largest building in the world after the Pentagon. Additionally, Ceausescu starved his own people in order to pay off the debts of his country. He exported most of the agricultural and industrial products which caused a drastic shortage throughout the country. He had many grandiose schemes in mind that thankfully were never brought to fruition, but the results are still evident throughout Bucharest.
This is the back of the Palace of the Parliment - all looks well from the front, but unfinished behind

Places everywhere under construction
For example, we saw huge one story buildings that had been built solely for the intent of having the inhabitants go there for meals. There was not enough food so they wanted them to commune in one place. One of my peers who is the same age as me remembered that you could only get 1 kilo (2.2 lbs) of meat PER MONTH. It was also difficult to come by sugar and fruits. Sounds very much like how my dad describes the situation during WWII in England. The Romanians also had rations on electricity and TV was only broadcast for two hours a day. And this was just a few years ago! It makes me really grateful that I’ve never lived under these conditions, but also gives me the feeling that people today feel quite entitled and don’t understand real suffering.
Romanian countryside church
Romania still seems to be struggling with this dark history and there is no escaping the lingering effects: grey Communist style high rise apartments, third world type construction everywhere, and obvious poverty (stray dogs and gypsies). I was told by my co-workers that they have only really had the money to purchase cars since about 2000 (so THAT is why they drive like complete maniacs!) Much of the city is in bad repair and in need of a makeover. That said, the parts that weren’t destroyed during the war or during communist times are quite beautiful and there are some wonderfully amazing sites throughout the city – quaint Orthodox churches and sculpted historic buildings – of course, surrounded by poverty and litter. But if you look past it all, you see a city struggling to resuscitate itself, and can certainly see why it was once called the “Paris of the East”. It has an amazing amount to offer.
The lovely Mamaliguţă, a corn mush
The food, however, is not one of them. A typical meal consisted of starters that included fresh vegetables (cucumbers, tomatoes, green onion, for example) and a variety of cheeses. And then the main was well done, overcooked meat. And lots of it. On several occasions I was presented with wild boar, venison, and bear!!!! Usually we are worried about bears eating us, but not in Romania! They also have a traditional food called mamaliguţă, which is a cornmeal mush that is traditionally served topped with a very strong sheep’s cheese, and sometimes a homemade sour cream. If that description doesn’t turn you off, I don’t know what will. I made the mistake of ordering that as my meal once. I can tell you, it wasn’t good! I think I may have lost that 5 lbs I’ve been working on!
Historic Stavropoleos Church
Generally, though, I found my trip to be absolutely delightful. I would love to explore more of it, and discover more about the private, highly religious people who seem to be struggling to rebound from their past. I would definitely go again, to observe a cultural evolution occur before my eyes.
Anneke and I outside the absolutely fabulous restaurant
This weekend I decided to head off to NYC to visit with some great friends that I haven’t seen in ages. One was a guy friend whom I know from Amsterdam where we met in a gay bar. The other is my girlfriend, Anneke, that I know from work when we lived in DC, who lives in NYC now but only for one more week, when she will move back to DC. Make sense?
Anneke had asked if I wanted to get a massage at Yi Pak in Koreatown during my visit, and that sounded right up my alley. I’ve been traveling quite a bit and when I found out it were just over $100 for a 2 hour massage, I was sold. I wasn’t quite sure what I got myself into, however…. If you remember my Turkish bath experience you’ll understand where I’m going here….
We signed up for the two hour package, which included:
• Shower
• Steam Sauna
• Full Body Scrub (Exfoliating)
• Facial with Refreshing all natural cucumber pack
• Hair Washed and Rinse
• Finishing Rinse
• Dry Sauna
• Full body Massage
When we got there, we were asked to strip down to our birthday suits and put on one of their very fashionable paper thin robes. We were then shuffled into a completely tiled white room (no, really, completely tiled - floors, walls, and ceiling) that had showers on the walls, white plastic massage tables in the middle, and water around everywhere in buckets and tubs. This is a place that sees a lot of water.
As soon as we stepped into the room we were invited to take off the flimsy robe that we’d just put in (why did we even bother?), and get under one of the showers and wash off. They then had us go into a small room that housed a hot, humid sauna where we were to lie down on towels and sweat for the next 10 minutes or so. I must say that it felt very much like a full lifetime because it was so damn hot in there, especially as hot droplets rained down on you from the ceiling.
At the point of nearly losing unconsciousness, we were asked to step out into the big room by Korean ladies in very sexy bras and panties and asked to lie face down on the plastic massage tables in the middle of the tiled room. Trying to navigate onto this table is somewhat difficult given that it is soft plastic and we had a thin coating of slippery sweat on our bodies. Oh, and we were very naked, did I mention that? Any ideas of modesty fly pretty immediately out the window when you enter this place.
After getting a quick soaping by the woman it is then washed off by buckets and buckets of warm, relaxing water, and the “full body scrub (exfoliating)” begins. I was a little stunned when it first started, because I was sure that I was being “exfoliated” by a hard wire brush, but come to find out it was merely sandpaper she was using to sheer off the top layers on my skin. And she was a true professional! She not only scrubbed once, but at least 2 or 3 times over every nook and cranny of my body.
And that was only while I was lying on my stomach! After about 20 minutes on that stomach and getting sloshed all over with warm water (to wash away the layers of skin sluffed onto the table, no doubt), she had me turn to my side where the torture continued, but now on the more sensitive parts of my body, and with even more wild abandon! No rest for the weary, she made sure every area was scrubbed down several times. More water. After side #1, I had to flip to the other side, and then finally on my back, where I am sure my entire body was a bright red from being rubbed raw. (Anneke said I actually had welts on my back – I believe it!) You are completely soaked during all of this.
You then get a cucumber mask applied to your face. Now, this was interesting. Usually when you get a mask it is some kind of clay based mask or even a smooth mask that is applied to the face and left to dry. This mask was actually more like a cucumber salad, chunky and feeling like 2 or 3 crushed up cucumbers had been applied to your face. When she was applying it she had to do it in sections to get it to stick, and I could eventually feel clumps running down my face and falling onto the massage table. I must say, I was pretty hungry at this point and it smelled so good I was tempted to actually lick some of the chunks off my upper lip. I was able to contain myself, but only because I knew we were going to the absolutely fabulous French restaurant, La Grenouille, for dinner right after this.
Finally we are allowed to get off the table – again, very carefully – because you are so damn slippery and a little discombobulated from having your skin scrubbed off – and go under the shower. I swear, when the water spray hit my body it felt like needles piercing my skin.
After that, I went hopefully over to my robe to cover my lobster red, naked bruised and battered body, but was quickly swatted away to go sit in the dry sauna now. After sitting in there for 10 or 15 agonizing minutes and again becoming covered in sweat, I came out to finally be able to put on my robe. For about .5 seconds before I had to take it off again for the massage.
Ah the massage…. We are whisked into a dark “couples” room where our now clothed and somehow completely dry Korean ladies are there to dry us off. (At this point I’m wondering where I can get one of these women to help me during daily cleanings.) I am instructed to lie face down on the massage table and am expecting a very relaxing soft massage, after all, these ladies aren’t that big.
Well, first off, the moment the massage oil came in contact with the gaping welts on my back it hurt like all getout. And on top of that, this woman was up on the table and straddling me to put all her weight into crushing her elbows into every muscle on my back. Pure torture. And that was only on the first side!
By the end of it all, I was covered in massage oil and everything was sticking to me, and I had to get ready to go out to a fancy restaurant with my fresh raw red skin. Most embarrassing. But I must tell you, it was one of the most pleasurable things I’ve done in a long, long time. I would do it all the time if I lived in NYC (and had enough layers of skin to handle it). You end up with the smoothest, softest skin, and completely relaxed. I would highly recommend it, hands down.
I was later able to ask a guy friend who has been there if they got treated by woman in bras and panties. Yes. And did they get a happy ending? Apparently for the guys, they touch “sensitive” places and ask, “Is this okay?” before taking it to the next level. I’m just wondering why they don’t offer that service for the women? We deserve the same treatment as men!!
But the wonderful day didn’t end there. We immediately followed this up with some fine dining with friends at La Grenouille. I really wanted to go here because it had sweet breads and fois gras on the menu, two of my all time favorites.
It is rated as one of the top 10 restaurants in the city, and had impeccable service with servers running around the restaurants like ants, immediately taking your plate and refilling your glass. The food was phenomenal. I had the sweet breads to start, the duck as a main, and the chocolate soufflé for dessert. The portions were quite big for a fancy restaurant and I wasn't able to finish either my main or my dessert, which was a shame because it was totally delicious. The atmosphere was also nice, with everyone dressed up (jacket required) and a fancy and sophisticated art deco décor. It reminded me of the nice restaurants in Paris. Delightful end to a glorious day.
It was followed up last night by an impressive early morning lightning and thunderstorm. And that might be an understatement. I actually thought the storm was inside the house, it was so loud. It reminded me of the storm in Ghostbusters when they were about to encounter the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It was ominous and scary, even for a grown adult. But I wouldn’t know anything about that. ;-)
It was great to see my friends in NYC and I appreciate Anneke's hospitality and letting me crash at her place. I cannot wait to go back!
Yesterday the strangest thing happened to me.
I was waiting for a friend outside his house and I saw a nearby bird perched on a fence. I decided to go over and take a closer look because I found it odd that it was just sitting there and not moving at all, even though I was fairly close. I walked over and looked at it and it still didn’t move, which I really found strange. It just stayed there, eyes closed, not even noticing me. I saw it was a Blue Jay and wondered if it was a baby or something because I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t afraid of me.
Soon after, there was a swooshing of a bird near my head (as a warning) and a Blue Jay to the other bird and started feeding it. Ah, it is a baby. Makes sense now. I was fascinated by nature – watching what appeared to be the father bird feeding the baby bird. It would feed it something, the baby would drop it, and the father bird would swoosh down to the ground and pick it back up again and take it to feed the baby, when the baby would drop it again.
This happened over and over and I was standing there watching it all unfold. Suddenly, something very sharp hit me very, very hard in the head. I was completely stunned and started rubbing my head because it hurt. From across the street a man asked me if I was okay. I said I was, but asked what had hit me. He said it was another Blue Jay that attacked me.
I was completely shocked and discombobulated and he kept asking me if I was okay or not. I said I was fine, but I would go into my friend’s house and check my head.
I rang the bell, and he buzzed me in, and as if right on cue, blood started running down my face. I was completely shocked. My head was pounding and I was in shock and trying to get up the stairs. I was wiping the blood off, but it started gushing out at an alarming speed and was dripping all over my shirt and on the floor.
When I got to my friend’s house he asked if I was okay because he could hear the guy outside talking to me. I said that I was attacked by a bird and then he walked around the corner to see blood gushing down my face and exclaimed, “Oh my god!!!”
He gathered some towels for me and I asked him to try and see where the wound was so I could apply pressure to stop the bleeding. He told me that my hair was completely matted with blood and that there was no way to see where the injury was without me washing my hair. A few minutes had gone by and the blood was no longer flowing down my face, so I decided to wash out my hair, which filled the entire bathtub with blood.
He examined my head to find that the cut was… wait for it… miniscule. I cannot believe that such a small cut could create such a huge amount of blood. I have never bled like that before and was a bit freaked out, honestly. We put some antiseptic on it and cleaned it up and went on with the day.
It was like this, but worse!
But now I’ve decided that when I walk around outside I will wear a hard hat and carry a shotgun for good measure.

Gorgeous night for watching game
A few weeks back I was supposed to go out on a hot date (and by “hot date” I mean I won a bet with a friend of mine, about the Friends sitcom no less, and the winner had to buy dinner), when another friend called to ask if I wanted to go to a Red Sox game. Hmmmm…. Conundrum. Do I take the free dinner or go to my first Red Sox game. Red Sox vs Toronto it was.

Closed off street for the party
Going to a Red Sox game is not just going to a baseball game. It is an EVENT. (Much like going to Disneyland is not just an amusement park, but the GREATEST PLACE ON EARTH!) I had no idea. After living here a year I really should have realized that all the excitement and activity around each game was because of something, especially since the last 5 years games have been completely sold out. Truth be told, I really did not know what I was missing.

When you get there, there are people milling around everywhere. There are scalpers and beer booths and Sox trinket salesman and food vendors abound. They close of the street of one side to really get the party going. This is where you go for expensive Red Sox paraphernalia, expensive food (hot dogs, pizza, popcorn, ice cream, peanuts, etc) and expensive beer. And all this is before the game even starts.

One the game starts, the entire place is chatting and relaxing like one big family. Everyone is your friend at a RS game (at least where I was sitting).

My neighbor's hairy arm
During half time, we wandered around and took part in the festivities and ate hamburgers and drank terribly expensive beers.
And the excitement really kicked up when , in one quarter, they had 4 field goals, including one by Big Poppie. This was a huge deal since he is having marital issues and hasn’t scored so far this season. They ended up winning and didn’t have to go into overtime.
This was way more exciting than watching the kids play baseball in the park (even though the referee did get hit in the stomach with a ball and was down and out for a good while, which was mildly amusing.)
Because there is an average of only 12 minutes of action in a baseball game, I had plenty of time to look around and observe. I noticed this glass was everywhere. I asked my friend what it was for. His response: foul balls. Really? This little bit of glass is preventing the entire area from getting hit by a foul ball. I didn’t buy it, so I asked the attendant. His response: To stop people from falling over the edge if they fall while they are walking UP the stairs. Ummm…. Okay? How many of you fall BACKWARDS when you are trying to walk UP the stairs. Not too many.

Mysterious "falling up the stairs" glass
My personal opinion (which was my opinion from the start, but wanted to get someone to confirm it), is that they had too many drunk arse’s fall DOWN the stairs and fall over the railing, and wanted to prevent this from occurring in the future. Now, I don’t know this for sure, but I’m betting my next paycheck AND a hot dinner date that I’m right on this one.

More glass
Dad's "Church"
I’m traveling to good ol’ Tejas this weekend to partake in my dad’s 70th birthday festivities. I am currently sitting on a plane, cursing the 7.5 hours of travel time it takes to get from Boston to Houston. How is it possible to get to Europe in less than 7 hours and I can’t get to Houston in that long?
Originally, I was going to buy him a gravestone for his present. Not for him, silly, for his barn! My dad is one of those eccentric British people who built a folly for a barn, which is the shape of a church. I’ll give just a little bit of background on this… My father grew up in Ipswich, England and as a child I was forever driving with my parents around the British countryside in search of finding buildings that were made to look like something they weren’t. Like what looks like a water tower with a house on top. Or a house that looked like a tower.
My parents have some land in the middle of Texas, in Fayetteville to be exact, and on it they have built a cabin overlooking a pond, a garage apartment, a house, and a barn. But the barn looks like a church. It is actually quite convincing. To the point where people will drive up to it and ask what denomination it is. Clearly those people have never met my father before. He is a true non-believer.

From this angle you can see the big tractor doors
To further decorate his “church”, I thought it should have some gravestones. I’ve done a little bit of looking and you would not believe how expensive they are! I kept thinking that I could just get one that they had messed up (you know, spelled incorrectly or something), but those apparently don’t exist. They just sand it down and start over.
That went out the window anyway when my father wrote me an email and requested a “Walkman” for his birthday. A walkman? Really? One of those things from the 80’s that plays tapes? No, he says, one that has digital music, and he would like the music already loaded, thank you very much.
I spent a lot of time deciding what to get him. He had very exact specifications – he did not want one with a big screen because he wants to use it while he is mowing and might break it (did he plan on using his noise reducing headphones to save his ears?, I asked), didn’t want one that was too expensive (as he might run over it with his tractor!), etc etc.
I decided to go ahead and get him an iPod even though he clearly did not want one so expensive. I decided quality was more important for the old man. I got him the 16GB Nano. He doesn’t know it yet, but I am sure he will want to put all his pictures on there to show around. I called him from the Apple Store. What color do you want? There is Red, Pink, Blue, Purple, Green, Orange, Yellow, Silver and Black. I thought for sure he would want to go with the Silver or the Black, after all, the man IS 70. His response, “Did you say Yellow? I’ll take yellow.” Really? Geez, how hip is my dad? I proceeded to tell him so, and then he ruined it for me. “So I can see it if I drop it in the grass.” Oh.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been carefully crafting out how I will get the music on, what I will need to do, stealing as much classical music as I can find and loading it onto the iPod. I have been thinking about how I will spend an evening with him installing and setting up iTunes, showing him how to download music with the iTunes gift cards, showing him how to attach and sync his iPod, setting up playlists, etc, etc. I have everything planned out perfectly. And tonight is the night. Tomorrow we will be preparing for his party and cooking all day, so tonight would be a good time to get that all sorted out.
This morning I woke up and had an email from United Airlines. My flight was going to leave on time at 11:24AM. WHAT? 11:24AM? I thought it was at 1:04PM. Reconfirming my itinerary did in fact reveal that my flight LANDS in Chicago at 1:04PM. OH NO! My relaxing morning ritual quickly turned into a quick cancellation of meetings and running around like a chicken trying to get everything finished and packed in time. I wasn’t even planning to leave my house until after 11:30AM!!
But I made it just in the nick of time. When I got to the airport and strolled up to the gate they just started to board. It was easy for me to keep on walking and go straight to my seat 1A. I sat down and got situated, relaxing over a cool beverage and waiting to take off.
All was well in my world. My carefully laid plans would come to fruition with no issues at all.
And then I remembered that I left his iPod on the table. Right where I had carefully placed it so I wouldn’t forget it.
Dammit.
I had a dream last night that a guy I dated during college was now dating a "little person" who had it out for me. She was like a bulldog and would not quit coming after me. Very odd.
What do you think it means?
Hong Kong skyline by day
Hong Kong skyline by night
I spent last week in Hong Kong. I have been there a few times before, but only on this trip did I feel like I really got to get to know the place and “get” why others love it so much. I really enjoyed this trip, especially taking in some of the local sights and activities.
On my first night here, I decided to eat at the sushi bar called Senzuru in the hotel because I was completely exhausted after sitting in economy class of the airplane for nearly 24 hours of travel. I can tell you, I was in a foul mood. And I thought a quick meal of delicious sushi would make me feel better before I crawled into bed.
When I had first walked into the hotel, every member of the hotel staff welcomed me on my short stint up to the registration desk. That continued when I got to the restaurant where I was welcomed by every member of the waitstaff upon arrival. And as I would get plate after plate of sushi delivered to my table, they would rearrange everything for me – down to my chopsticks – in order to accommodate all the dishes. I was absolutely amazed by the level of service. It was most noticeable to me when I lifted the last piece of sushi up with the chopsticks and even before I could insert it into my mouth, the plate was whisked away at an alarming speed. No pickled ginger for me!
That kind of service was evident throughout the trip. You can imagine my dismay when I got on the flight back to the USA and saw the American flight attendants whose idea of service amounts to them throwing a coke at me that I had just pay for!
Swine Flu information giving at airport
Closed water fountains
Asians also seem to be obsessed with the Swine Flu, as they should be. With so many people piled on top of each other they could so easily spread disease. As such, people with face masks are everywhere, hand sanitizer is in many public places, and there are signs everywhere encouraging people to wash their hands and protect themselves.

Disinfected carpet
In fact, in Hong Kong’s English newspaper, The Standard, they mentioned repeated that the threat of swine flu spreading was from the USA and that we have “lost control of the situation” and are “exporting the disease to the rest of the world”. Which seems to be true, at least there, because every case that has come to HK has been traced back to the USA. It does certainly seem that they are taking the situation more seriously there, with temperature tests when you arrive at the airport, a form you must fill out about your health, plastic covering anything that numerous people touch, and signage saying that carpets are disinfected every hour.

Lost in Translation
And one other thing that I got a kick out of. They had a story about a woman wanting to get a vanity plate reading ILVTOFU, because they thought that the meaning could be something different than just loving tofu. They also would not approve OBITEME, 2EROTIC and PASSGAS. Now those I can understand!
Oh, and just for fun, here's me starting my new career...
Karaoke singing