CHIPPED

So...here I am on my work trip lucky enough to stay at this amazing fancy hotel. A fancy hotel is AMAZING for about...three days. The throne bath. The beautiful stionary with gold embossed logos. The TV that swivels so you can watch in bed. The gazillion thread count robes and matching slippers - those two items alone the equivalent to paradise. The HUGE cozy bed with best sheets ever. The yummy food. Someone to tidy your room every day. The private patio overlooking the sea. And then after a while the lifestyle of living like Paris Hilton fades away - the sitting in the THRONE of a tub eating french fries, drinking Prosecco and watching American Idol all at once - and the craving to see a Duane Reade or 'real' people or go to a diner hits you and it's like...if I click my heels twice will you bring me back to reality? Please?

Part of living my three day fake Paris Hilton lifestyle involved a trip to the hotel spa. It sounds great but let me explain. The menu of spa services was INSANE in both what they had to offer and the price. I scanned the menu for the cheapest thing I could possibly afford to treat myself to and off I went.

The pedicure...here was the problem....

A.) WORK - I am on a business trip with a bunch of high end executives. I am not an executive. I happened to know that today was a "leisure activity day" for the executives which meant I was bound to run into many of them at the spa. Nothing is more creepy (no offense to these nice people) than sitting around half naked in robes and towels with your bosses and their bosses. It's like seeing your grade school teacher duck in to use the teacher's bathroom. Ewwwwww.

B.) MONEY - Another problem was while I would be paying for my fancy pedicure I happened to know that the executives had a spa package deal already paid for them on the company and if they SAW me down there in the spa..would they think I was trying to scam a free day at the spa? Yes I am uptight and nervous and always worried about things. The more I type this I realize I should have perhaps sprung for the 'chill the f*&#$ out massage' or the 'stop worrying so much about what other people think' foot rub. But those cost $360 for 110 minutes.

So I picked the pedicure. A price which in the end was too horrific to admit to and would require any future child of mine to apply for financial aid to college because of mom's pedicure 'back in the day'. So I get there. There is a fountain with water running and little hot black circle stones you rest your feet on while you are waiting. They offer you two kinds of hot tea. They ask you if you want to wait in the "relaxation" area before Mayuki is ready for me. And then eventually Mayuki pulls back a paper screen and I am encouraged to come inside the private pedicure room. The private pedicure room is ok not great. Sadly, it is me, Mayuki, another woman that works there and an ENORMOUS, unshowered, disheveled, overweight, wheezing and when I say wheezing I mean truly gasping for breath man with a HACKING COUGH - the kind someone with Emphysema has that is on their last leg. Ugh.

I did my best to relax. But despite the calming spa music and this lovely foot massage happening there was no hiding the fact that a giant man - literaly sounding like he was gasping for his last breath (oh and spitting mucus into a tissue) - it was impossible to relax.

All I kept thinking was:

-"oh my god this guy is going to die."
-"why is this man getting a pedicure anyway"
-"this is this man's last pedicure."
-"why are men allowed in this spa they should have private rooms for women."
-"i can't believe i'm paying this kind of money."
-"i can't believe i have to listen to this man about to die for 50 more minutes"

Had I known I'd be sitting next to Darth Vader and be forced to watch the poor woman assigned to him pick at his yellowed overgrown toenails...I kept telling myself not to look but I couldn't help myself...I wouldn't have signed up. Not only that but when it was over and I left more stressed than I came in, I tripped on the cement steps going back into the hotel and left a giant chip in my big toe red polish.

ROOKIE MISTAKE

Leaving your walkie on when taking a whiz in the ladies room only to come out to a handful of snickering cameraman making fun of you having heard ever dribble. Hey...it's been a while since I'd be on set ok?

MIAMI

Today I am off to Miami for work. E plans to join me on Thursday (yay!) and stay one night with me at my fancy hotel and then we spend the weekend in South Beach at another hotel hopefully logging some good beach time and taking photos. Last time I was in Miami was with my two girlfriends W and H. The first day we hit the beach. W and I didn't put any sunscreen on our legs despite H's urging us to. "Nah. We never get sunburn on our legs." OMG. I had never been so burnt in my life. My legs were throbbing. In the middle of the night W says in the dark, "My legs are on fire you guys. It's like I have two Duraflame logs for legs." Hopefully history will not repeat itself this time.

THIS IS VERY GOOD

If you haven't seen it yet you should.

HIS WIFE THE BASS GUITAR

In the middle of the night on occasion I feel E - my computer programming husband 'typing' on my leg or arm in his sleep as if I am his computer. This is funny. The first time it startled me and resulted in me waking him up to ask, "What are you doing?!?" Then I got used to it and it made me laugh. Last night in the middle of the night I felt the same thing. Tap tap tap tap on my arm. But these taps were more like plucks. It had been a while. I woke up and shook him, "Honey...you are typing on me again." to which he responded without even opening his eyes or missing a beat, "Actually no. I think I'm playing you like a bass."

THE POWER OF DONUTS

My life seems surreal at times. Today for work I attended a sold out event ($175 a ticket) of the famous psychic medium John Edward. Not comfortable going into grand detail about my work I'll just say that I've been asked recently to write about and 'study' this man via books, tapes and hours and hours of footage of him speaking to various people desperately hoping to connect to loved ones that have 'crossed over'.

In all honesty, it wasn't until today attending one of his real, live seminars that it occured to me why I've been so down and out lately. I've done nothing but listen to the stories of people trying to bring closure to tremendous grief. If you believe the readings or not it doesn't matter. These are real people with real stories - dead children, dead parents, dead siblings, dead pets, etc. Some of the stories are heart breaking.

I was lucky enough through work to get a plus one and brought my sister. It was good to get another perspective on the whole experience. It was a very strange, strange event. First of all John is an extremely refreshing, funny and down to earth guy. When he entered the room you almost felt the entire audience hold their breath. I was curious how a room full of New Yorkers (born skeptics it seems) would react to the event.

The most obvious readings (2 out of the several hundred there) were September 11th related although to his credit - brief. My favorite 'reading' perhaps was when he had an older Italian woman in a bedazzled sweater stand up. He let her know her husband Joe was coming through by providing various dates and 'in jokes' etc. After a pause he said, "Joe is asking me to ask you about the donuts. This seems strange to say but did Joe like...jelly donuts?"

The older woman laughed. She bent down and from the foot of her chair, picked up a box of Dunkin' Donut minis and waved the box in the air. In a thick Brooklyn accent she said, "Joe loved jelly donuts! I brought a box 'wid me just in case he could smell 'em!"