Dear Marriott,

Thanks for letting me spend a rare night hanging out while ordering room service and watching the American Idol finale!  Even though I was rooting for the other person to win.

I am very sorry that I spilled salad dressing all over your nice white bedspread.  I didn't mean to.

But then again, I'm not that sorry, because you gave me a view overlooking the top of a parking garage instead of overlooking the lake.  Even though you assured me you had no more lake views, I know that's not true because you gave my smug travel buddy a lake view when he checked in 15 seconds after me, despite the fact that I rushed inside to beat him in line like a 12-year-old just in case there was only one lake view room left in the entire hotel.  I promise I'm not that picky.  I just get very excited by having pretty views.  But I will forgive you.

Sorry, also, for all of the random junk I have left you during our visits.  I'm sure you have an entire collection of phone chargers, hair pins, and shiny beads dedicated especially to me.  Along with some stranded items of clothing.  And probably some underwear. You can toss those away.

Anyway.  Thanks for being a good sport and for taking such good care of me during that past two years.  Our 102 nights together have been special.

Love, 

Your Favorite Guest

Dear Mean People,

You stink.

I am normally a pretty cheerful person.  But you know what, right now I am grumpy, and it's mostly because of you.

First, my Blackberry goes missing, prompting me to launch a full-scale investigation. (Which included tracing my steps around town, creating a detailed timeline, reviewing my call and data logs, creating a list of facts and assumptions.... I really should just be an investigator for a living.)  My efforts have led me to the conclusion that the phone went missing during the short time I carried groceries from my car to my apartment the other night.  Which means that one of your kind stole it.  Yes, stole.  Did you mistake it for your own Blackberry?  Did you not see my hand-crafted signs?  Did you not think of turning it into the building's lost-and-found?

And then yesterday a package gets delivered to my apartment at 2:48 pm, which I am able to see on UPS.com in this sophisticated age of technology.  But of course I am not home at 2:48 pm, or for several hours afterward.  So what happens?  You took that, too!  I sure hope you are getting great use out of the $20 sweatshirt which I ordered to wear to the gym.

I'm not so certain that you're not somehow responsible for the fact that I got trapped in an elevator today, too.  I almost missed a plane because of that.

And you know what is the worst part, mean people?  Let me tell you.  It's not that you have taken my beloved Blackberry, or that you ripped off a package which obviously wasn't yours, or any of the other wrongs you have committed.  It's that you have caused me to walk down my very own hallways with bitterness and suspicion.  And that you have put an ugly blemish on my optimistic view of humanity.

You see, mean people, unlike you, I like to imagine that humans are good and decent and honest.  But I guess that's probably not very realistic.  So instead I imagine that your kind does not immediately surround me, but instead exists somewhere out there on an island community of mean people.  But  it would appear that is false.  You are in my very own town, in my safe neighborhood, and maybe even living down the hallway from me.  You are like that gross rotten spot hiding within an otherwise crunchy and delicious apple, just waiting to show up and ruin someone's afternoon snack.  (That was an odd analogy. I don't know why I thought of that.)

Anyway, mean people, thanks for nothing.  My only consolation comes from knowing that the world has a mysterious way of working things out just when you feel like you are flying high.  And that is probably not good news for you.  But that's between you and the world.  Good luck with that.

Okay, and my one additional consolation comes from the knowledge that this recent stroke of bad luck has thrown me off balance, and that is no good; it must be remedied.  Does this mean I'm going to get very lucky during the next few days?  During this upcoming holiday weekend, perhaps?  If so... I'll take it.

Vanished.

Now everybody in my building knows that the spaz in Apartment 35 lost her Blackberry.

Even though it's just a phone and probably not a healthy toy to have in the first place, I am really bummed out by this.   

I don't know what's more frustrating... the fact that the phone is missing, or the fact that I haven't got the slightest clue how it went missing. For once, I can't think of a single dumb thing I did to cause this misfortune. I kept track of it while out and about all afternoon, and then it mysteriously disappeared somewhere between my car and my apartment

Just in case you've seen it... please refer to flyers above.

P.S. According to Blogger, this is my 100th post. I'm sorry it couldn't be more uplifting.

Little Details

If you have ever met me, you have likely noticed that I tend to be a little bit forgetful, and at times I don't always have my brain screwed on straight. I am that person who looks all over for my sunglasses, only to discover that they are on top of my head. I blame this unfortunate condition on my mother. It's most definitely genetic.

Exhibit A: I left for work this morning like any other day. Keys, cell phone, laptop, and bus card successfully in tow. (My sunflower key rack has been a huge life saver.) Except what I didn't realize was that I had accidentally forgotten to put on underwear.

I was wearing a dress. I didn't notice this little mistake until I was outside walking to the bus, and things were feeling a little more breezy than usual.

You will be happy to know that I did turn around and go back home to fix this problem. I think there are some things worth being late for. And how is a person supposed to act professional, and have serious discussions about business-related things, while secretly knowing that they have forgotten to put on their underwear?

Sometimes it's really ridiculous to be me.

Community Service

Sometimes you just need to spend a day away from your grown-up job and go golfing.

And by golfing, I mean having picnics on a golf course and riding around all day in a golf cart, while you take occasional team photos and sell raffle tickets to much more sophisticated people than yourself who actually know how to play golf. All for charity, of course.

(Let me tell you, selling things to rich people is the easiest selling I have ever done. Way easier than back in the days when I used to sit at a booth and sell Girl Scout cookies to strangers in front of grocery stores.)

And then for all of your hard efforts, you even get to participate in the fancy post-golf dinner party inside the country club. Did you know that the restrooms in country clubs have hairspray? And mouthwash?! 

I can't think of any better way to spend a Monday.

Spring Things

Normally I would have told you how excited I was for the first day of spring. Which supposedly happened in March. But unfortunately, Boston did not receive the memo about spring this year. I mean, It snowed in April. Luckily I have been traveling to some places where winter is truly over and spring actually exists, such as sunny South Carolina.

Just in case you were skeptical about my newfound obsession with the Carolinas... I skipped out on work for a day and spent the afternoon riding a horse-drawn carriage around pretty Charleston, SC. (Well maybe they were mules, if we're being technical here). This made me so very happy! 

I fall in love with the silliest things.... Don't be a crab unless you're in a shell! I think we should all heed this message.

Of course no South Carolina adventure would be complete without Atlantic Ocean beach time. I had the very best barefoot beach walk ever. And I very carefully avoided stepping on any Atlantic Ocean jellyfish.

When I got back home, I discovered they had finally planted tulips in Boston! This is a hopeful sign that sunnier days are ahead.

Happy spring!