This is the first time I have watched the Grammys from start to finish. Somehow I managed to catch every bloody commercial, yet I missed Gaga's performance at the one restroom break. Thank goshes for U-Tube.
I just wrote a bullet pointed list of commentary for every preformance. Then I deleted it. Who am I to judge them? What little I want to put out there is on the last few minutes of this famous sing-along.
Swift winning for best album was a shocking piece of news. I fully thought that it was Gaga's award to win. What is the difference between the two? Gaga makes us feel good about being bad, when Swift makes us feel toasty about being good. (Forgive me if this is a duh observation.) I enjoy both artists, but I am aware of how each artist affects me, and I understand why Swift won.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Last Night In
I was unsure if I should report on this or not, but it's far too "Serendipity" not to.
Due to a FaceBook status of, "Miami," a friend contacted to say, "You're in Miami and didn't contact me!" It was true, I had not. But I did not know of his move to Miami, which left me in the clear.
Also, I would never think to contact this person since I figured hearing from me was the last thing he wanted. I tortured him for two years with hour long showers, at twice a day on ocassions. In addition to these showers poor C spent all of his leisurely home-time cramped up in his petite room, since the four of us, myself, my ex, my cousin, and her boyfriend played cards in the living room at nearly every waking hour, for about eight months. When C quietly slipped out of his room in his bathrobe, the four of us gave him gawks of -- Who the hell is that guy? And why isn't he dressed?
After examining the situation from the present, we were wrong I tell you. You should have turned the kitchen sink spray nozzel on us.
When I received the -- I'm living at the Gansevoorte Hotel, come over for a drink -- text, I was overwhelmed in the best way, since there were no existing grudges. So, off I went to South Beach.
We met at the lobby, hugged hello, then took the elevator up to his place for a drink. (Note: Club music playing in the elevator.) While we sat out on the terrace that hung over the pool, with the ocean to the left of us, I understood why he chose to live there. I'm sure the poshness had nothing to do with it.
After this drink we head up to the roof-top for another. Two or so hours of exchanging information occured, then it was sleepy time for C since he had work.
On route back to my four wheels, I thought drunk driving probably isn't the best way to end this night, so I head to the W Hotel next door for water. Sure, there was a Wallgreens nearby, but I had already thoroughly explored that Wallgreens, and I had not fully explored the W Hotel.
At the bar as I waited for the waiter to come over to chirp hello, a blad headed man vocally approached me. He was standing there already, which I failed to notice. He said something about me being pretty or beautiful, he used one of those overly used words, and when I looked towards his general direction, I saw Eric, Mr. Starbucks, right beside him. From here on it was quite extraordinary.
Me: "Ahhh, didn't we meet like yesterday?"
Eric: "Yeah, yeah we did."
Me: "O my God this is so creep-y."
Bald Headed Pal: "You two know each other?"
Me: "I met him yesterday when I was out with my mother!"
Bald Headed Pal: "O, is this okay if I talk to her?"
Me: "Sure it is he didn't contact me."
Eric: "It hasn't been 24 hours yet."
Me: Yeah it has -- I've already written you off hours ago."
Bald headed Pal: "Ah common there has to be a waiting period. Those are the rules."
Me: "True, you should typically wait the 24 hours, but not when I'm interested."
Eric takes his phone out.
Eric: "Check your e-mail cuz I contacted."
Me: "I just saw you do it right now!" (Lots of laughing.)
After this the four of us went (There was another friend.) to another bar. On the way to this other bar, I learned that friend number two was a minister, and I thought how does this stuff happen to me? Then it was:
Me: "You're a minister?"
Minister: "Yup."
Me: "Aren't you married? Let me see your hand. (I examine his hand, no ring.) O those single woman at church must be all over you." (People I've seen it -- I think it's the power.)
Minister: "Yeah, actually they are."
Me: "I knew it."
Once we were at the bar I could sense that the Minister was deep into wife hunting mode since he claimed the bar stool beside a blonde woman and said, "You guys get to know eachother, I'll be over here." (I'm not sure where the other guy skipped off to?) My reply before heading to a booth was:
"E-huh, you go tell her about the Lord."
Then I laughed. A whole lot. I really have to stop laughing at my own jokes.
The rest of the night circulated around - getting to know you - topics. Then it was goodnight. Did I do anything about Mr. Tall & Handsome? Of course not, I hardly knew him. For the most part I enjoy meeting and getting to know all types of people, and laughing at my own jokes.
But, how rare was that second meeting? It belongs in the book of shiny things.
Due to a FaceBook status of, "Miami," a friend contacted to say, "You're in Miami and didn't contact me!" It was true, I had not. But I did not know of his move to Miami, which left me in the clear.
Also, I would never think to contact this person since I figured hearing from me was the last thing he wanted. I tortured him for two years with hour long showers, at twice a day on ocassions. In addition to these showers poor C spent all of his leisurely home-time cramped up in his petite room, since the four of us, myself, my ex, my cousin, and her boyfriend played cards in the living room at nearly every waking hour, for about eight months. When C quietly slipped out of his room in his bathrobe, the four of us gave him gawks of -- Who the hell is that guy? And why isn't he dressed?
After examining the situation from the present, we were wrong I tell you. You should have turned the kitchen sink spray nozzel on us.
When I received the -- I'm living at the Gansevoorte Hotel, come over for a drink -- text, I was overwhelmed in the best way, since there were no existing grudges. So, off I went to South Beach.
We met at the lobby, hugged hello, then took the elevator up to his place for a drink. (Note: Club music playing in the elevator.) While we sat out on the terrace that hung over the pool, with the ocean to the left of us, I understood why he chose to live there. I'm sure the poshness had nothing to do with it.
After this drink we head up to the roof-top for another. Two or so hours of exchanging information occured, then it was sleepy time for C since he had work.
On route back to my four wheels, I thought drunk driving probably isn't the best way to end this night, so I head to the W Hotel next door for water. Sure, there was a Wallgreens nearby, but I had already thoroughly explored that Wallgreens, and I had not fully explored the W Hotel.
At the bar as I waited for the waiter to come over to chirp hello, a blad headed man vocally approached me. He was standing there already, which I failed to notice. He said something about me being pretty or beautiful, he used one of those overly used words, and when I looked towards his general direction, I saw Eric, Mr. Starbucks, right beside him. From here on it was quite extraordinary.
Me: "Ahhh, didn't we meet like yesterday?"
Eric: "Yeah, yeah we did."
Me: "O my God this is so creep-y."
Bald Headed Pal: "You two know each other?"
Me: "I met him yesterday when I was out with my mother!"
Bald Headed Pal: "O, is this okay if I talk to her?"
Me: "Sure it is he didn't contact me."
Eric: "It hasn't been 24 hours yet."
Me: Yeah it has -- I've already written you off hours ago."
Bald headed Pal: "Ah common there has to be a waiting period. Those are the rules."
Me: "True, you should typically wait the 24 hours, but not when I'm interested."
Eric takes his phone out.
Eric: "Check your e-mail cuz I contacted."
Me: "I just saw you do it right now!" (Lots of laughing.)
After this the four of us went (There was another friend.) to another bar. On the way to this other bar, I learned that friend number two was a minister, and I thought how does this stuff happen to me? Then it was:
Me: "You're a minister?"
Minister: "Yup."
Me: "Aren't you married? Let me see your hand. (I examine his hand, no ring.) O those single woman at church must be all over you." (People I've seen it -- I think it's the power.)
Minister: "Yeah, actually they are."
Me: "I knew it."
Once we were at the bar I could sense that the Minister was deep into wife hunting mode since he claimed the bar stool beside a blonde woman and said, "You guys get to know eachother, I'll be over here." (I'm not sure where the other guy skipped off to?) My reply before heading to a booth was:
"E-huh, you go tell her about the Lord."
Then I laughed. A whole lot. I really have to stop laughing at my own jokes.
The rest of the night circulated around - getting to know you - topics. Then it was goodnight. Did I do anything about Mr. Tall & Handsome? Of course not, I hardly knew him. For the most part I enjoy meeting and getting to know all types of people, and laughing at my own jokes.
But, how rare was that second meeting? It belongs in the book of shiny things.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Where it began.
Since my mother has arrived here, in Florida, she has not been much for fun. All she wants to do is furnish condo. I guess it's the responsible thing to do when one doesn't have any furniture, but one can only take so much. After the couch arrived, the plates were purchased, and the cable man came over to say hello, I decided it was time she did something else. (Also, since I may be leaving soon -- we should spend quality time.)
So, Miami it was.
Shortly after we arrived we stopped off at Novecento, an Argentine restaurant for lunch. (There's one other in the US, of course it's in Manhattan. New Yorkers, go.) When we followed the hostess to our table I heard the buzz of Spanish all about me. When I scanned the room, the attractive Spanish men in suits were noticed, I mean really it was shocking. I thought, K should be here. (A dear friend who finds white men boring and rhythm-less.) Once at the table I asked my mother to sit first, the woman is particular about where she sits. She sat on the booth side, I sat in the chair facing the window. This was okay because my mother gets the better seat. (Boys, if I give you the choice, it's a test. Are you a jackass, or a gentleman?)
While we studied our menus, "Janie the men here are gooood looking."
Me: "Sh. I know."
Mother: "You should be sitting here. You want to switch?"
Me: "That's alright. I'm okay over here."
The waitress came over. We ordered. She left.
Mother: "I don't get it? I pay and the waitress only looks at you? Even the women do it!"
Me: "That's not true, she looked at you a little." (laughing.)
Mother: "Yeah. Enjoy your youth."
Me: "Mom, stoppp." (This always gives me the creeps.)
Moments later.
Mother: "O my God Janinha that man, that man, (she was exasperated) he looks like my old Argentine boyfriend. Look...Look!"
I looked.
Me: "Not bad. How old were you when you dated?" (checking)
Mother: "28. Are you sure you don't want switch?"
Me: "Fine, let's switch."
Soon after this the food was delivered. The tuna steak I ordered definitely tasted too fishy. What to do, I knew I was not going to eat it. I explained the yuck taste to my mother.
Mother: "Just tell the waitress it's terrible."
Me: "No, I can't say that. It's rude."
Mother: "Want me to say it? At my age I can say anything I want and get away with it. That's what Gil says." (Gil is my mother's older Jewish boyfriend. No, he isn't her boyfriend, but he hopes.)
Me: "Umm you're not at that age yet. Maybe Gil is. But you still have many years of being accountable for things that come out of your mouth."
She smiles.
When the waitress returned to check on us, I humbly asked if the tuna was known for having a fishy taste. She knew where I was going, and met me with a, "Would you like something else.?" (You see, I am a huge changer of the meal when ordering. I want everything on the side, and on most occasions I enjoy switching up one or two parts of the meal, but I never send back.) I responded, "Can we," with near tears in my eyes. She said yes as if it mattered just as much to her. In fin, there was a fish switch.
After our meal my mother and I split up for a couple of hours. I brought my roller blades along since I thought it would be a fun way to explore the city. Of course I got lost. My awesome sense of direction lead me to a highway. At the point of, no where else to go, I waved over a Silver Mercedes. A man rolled down his window, and I shouted, "Which way is town?"
Man in car: "What do you want to see? Coconut Groove is that way, (he pointed.) and Miami downtown area is that way." (pointed)
Me: "Which is better?" (cars honked.)
Man in car: "That way!" (He pointed to Miami's downtown area.)
Me: "Then I go that way! Thanks!"
"That way" took me to the same area of the restaurant. There were things that I had not yet seen, but at that moment, I realized how small Miami was.
At a certain time I met with my mother, we fed the meter more money, then set off to Starbucks for a coffee and a chat before heading back. It did not feel like time to leave yet. On route to Starbucks my mother told me about this "hunk" that she met, that even I would like. While we head into Starbucks she made a comment about a man seated at an outside table. Then it was another comment about another man that was seated inside. I had to say something.
Me: "Enough, stop checking out men!" (The woman in front of us looked back.)
My Mother laughs.
Mother: "What? Let your mother have fun."
I ignored her.
After we picked up the lattes from the end of the barista bar, we sat. The second man my mother commented on was in view and I looked. He was tall, he was handsome. I had to stare for an extra second due to the shock of agreeing on a man with my mother. We tend to have different, opposite types. Janie look at that man, Mom ew, is usually how it goes. Well, I looked for too long because my mother took note.
Mother: "Why didn't you sit at the table near him - You could have talked to him more easily."
Me: " I don't want to talk to him. I was only looking."
Mother: "I told you he was a hunk."
Me: "Mom, no-one uses that term anymore."
Mother: "What?"
Me: "Nothing."
My mother turns around to look at him.
Me: "Stop looking at him. Mom, stopp."
Mother: "He's not married. He has a free finger."
Me: "O my God your completely crazy."
Mother: "Go over and talk to him."
Me: "Okay, he's cute, but there is no chance that I'm going to get up..and go over there."
Mother: "Do you want me to go there and talk to him for you." (She started to move.)
Me: "Stay still. Do not move."
She really had a great laugh.
Me: "How's that coffee? Good?"
Mother: "Good, good. You want to try?"
Tall & Handsome begins to pack up his laptop and other belongings.
Me: "Thank God. He's leaving."
Mother: "Meninha go talk to him before he leaves."
Me: "Nooo."
Mother: "What are you afraid of? What can you lose?"
Me: "I'm not afraid -- I just don't care enough. The last thing I need right now is another guy."
Mother: "You're scared."
Me: "I'm not scared." ( I knew what was happening, it annoyed me all the same.)
Mother: "It's okay if you're scared."
Me: "You think I'm scared?" I got up. She looked up with a devious devious grin. I walked over to Tall & Handsome's table.
Me: "Hello, I'm Jane, could you tell me where I-95 is?"
Tall & Handsome blankly looked up.
Me: "Actually if you want the truth -- I just need you to talk to me for a minute so my mother can stop bothering me about coming over to talk to you."
Tall & Handsome was quite touched.
Tall & Handsome: "Sure, I'm Eric. (He held his hand out for me to shake it.) Have a seat."
I sat.
Eric: "So, are you from around here?"
Me: "No, I'm from NJ. My mother just moved here. I drove her here."
Eric: "How do you like Miami?"
We sat there for 20 or so minutes and chat about the locations he has lived at, I expressed how small I found Miami to be, & he agreed. There was more chat about Boston and New York, he asked for my e-mail, I told him, then shortly after that he said, "I think your mother is leaving." I turned, he was correct, she was on the move. "That means she's coming over here. Well, it was nice meeting you." I stood, we shook hands and I took leave to look for my vanished mother.
I found her in moments standing at the coffee bar, asking for a refill. When I approached her she started to talk. I think she asked, did he tell you any fun places to go, or, what happened? She spoke for a few minutes as I stared into her face, until I said,
"I don't know what you're saying? I can't think!"
When I said this my mother pointed over my shoulder, at Eric.
Eric: "Hey, I just wanted to say it was nice meeting you." (Shakes my hand again. Then to my mother.) Hello, I'm Eric. (Eric something, he said a last name, but I have no idea what he said? He then shook my mother's hand.)
My Mother: "I'm Maria ***** -- It's nice to meet you."
Me: "Okay, I'll see you later." (I was having a difficult time keeping up.)
Eric smiled and turned to leave, then he turned back and said something about an e-mail? I don't know what he specifically said, I only kept smiling and waving like some fool.
After he left, my mother: "I think he heard you say you couldn't think."
Me: "You think he heard me?!." (I laugh.)
Mother: "What happened?"
Me: "I don't know. I don't know. Let me think about it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This is the end of that story, well, we went to a few art galleries, than went home. But I know I have to explain this one.
I never lose my cool, my knees never tremble. This was only because man always comes to me. I have ne -ver approached a man. Is this what men go through? Because there is a serious high that comes with this success. And, wow, it must suck to get turned down.
But enough, this is longer than expected. And yes, my mother is like this.
So, Miami it was.
Shortly after we arrived we stopped off at Novecento, an Argentine restaurant for lunch. (There's one other in the US, of course it's in Manhattan. New Yorkers, go.) When we followed the hostess to our table I heard the buzz of Spanish all about me. When I scanned the room, the attractive Spanish men in suits were noticed, I mean really it was shocking. I thought, K should be here. (A dear friend who finds white men boring and rhythm-less.) Once at the table I asked my mother to sit first, the woman is particular about where she sits. She sat on the booth side, I sat in the chair facing the window. This was okay because my mother gets the better seat. (Boys, if I give you the choice, it's a test. Are you a jackass, or a gentleman?)
While we studied our menus, "Janie the men here are gooood looking."
Me: "Sh. I know."
Mother: "You should be sitting here. You want to switch?"
Me: "That's alright. I'm okay over here."
The waitress came over. We ordered. She left.
Mother: "I don't get it? I pay and the waitress only looks at you? Even the women do it!"
Me: "That's not true, she looked at you a little." (laughing.)
Mother: "Yeah. Enjoy your youth."
Me: "Mom, stoppp." (This always gives me the creeps.)
Moments later.
Mother: "O my God Janinha that man, that man, (she was exasperated) he looks like my old Argentine boyfriend. Look...Look!"
I looked.
Me: "Not bad. How old were you when you dated?" (checking)
Mother: "28. Are you sure you don't want switch?"
Me: "Fine, let's switch."
Soon after this the food was delivered. The tuna steak I ordered definitely tasted too fishy. What to do, I knew I was not going to eat it. I explained the yuck taste to my mother.
Mother: "Just tell the waitress it's terrible."
Me: "No, I can't say that. It's rude."
Mother: "Want me to say it? At my age I can say anything I want and get away with it. That's what Gil says." (Gil is my mother's older Jewish boyfriend. No, he isn't her boyfriend, but he hopes.)
Me: "Umm you're not at that age yet. Maybe Gil is. But you still have many years of being accountable for things that come out of your mouth."
She smiles.
When the waitress returned to check on us, I humbly asked if the tuna was known for having a fishy taste. She knew where I was going, and met me with a, "Would you like something else.?" (You see, I am a huge changer of the meal when ordering. I want everything on the side, and on most occasions I enjoy switching up one or two parts of the meal, but I never send back.) I responded, "Can we," with near tears in my eyes. She said yes as if it mattered just as much to her. In fin, there was a fish switch.
After our meal my mother and I split up for a couple of hours. I brought my roller blades along since I thought it would be a fun way to explore the city. Of course I got lost. My awesome sense of direction lead me to a highway. At the point of, no where else to go, I waved over a Silver Mercedes. A man rolled down his window, and I shouted, "Which way is town?"
Man in car: "What do you want to see? Coconut Groove is that way, (he pointed.) and Miami downtown area is that way." (pointed)
Me: "Which is better?" (cars honked.)
Man in car: "That way!" (He pointed to Miami's downtown area.)
Me: "Then I go that way! Thanks!"
"That way" took me to the same area of the restaurant. There were things that I had not yet seen, but at that moment, I realized how small Miami was.
At a certain time I met with my mother, we fed the meter more money, then set off to Starbucks for a coffee and a chat before heading back. It did not feel like time to leave yet. On route to Starbucks my mother told me about this "hunk" that she met, that even I would like. While we head into Starbucks she made a comment about a man seated at an outside table. Then it was another comment about another man that was seated inside. I had to say something.
Me: "Enough, stop checking out men!" (The woman in front of us looked back.)
My Mother laughs.
Mother: "What? Let your mother have fun."
I ignored her.
After we picked up the lattes from the end of the barista bar, we sat. The second man my mother commented on was in view and I looked. He was tall, he was handsome. I had to stare for an extra second due to the shock of agreeing on a man with my mother. We tend to have different, opposite types. Janie look at that man, Mom ew, is usually how it goes. Well, I looked for too long because my mother took note.
Mother: "Why didn't you sit at the table near him - You could have talked to him more easily."
Me: " I don't want to talk to him. I was only looking."
Mother: "I told you he was a hunk."
Me: "Mom, no-one uses that term anymore."
Mother: "What?"
Me: "Nothing."
My mother turns around to look at him.
Me: "Stop looking at him. Mom, stopp."
Mother: "He's not married. He has a free finger."
Me: "O my God your completely crazy."
Mother: "Go over and talk to him."
Me: "Okay, he's cute, but there is no chance that I'm going to get up..and go over there."
Mother: "Do you want me to go there and talk to him for you." (She started to move.)
Me: "Stay still. Do not move."
She really had a great laugh.
Me: "How's that coffee? Good?"
Mother: "Good, good. You want to try?"
Tall & Handsome begins to pack up his laptop and other belongings.
Me: "Thank God. He's leaving."
Mother: "Meninha go talk to him before he leaves."
Me: "Nooo."
Mother: "What are you afraid of? What can you lose?"
Me: "I'm not afraid -- I just don't care enough. The last thing I need right now is another guy."
Mother: "You're scared."
Me: "I'm not scared." ( I knew what was happening, it annoyed me all the same.)
Mother: "It's okay if you're scared."
Me: "You think I'm scared?" I got up. She looked up with a devious devious grin. I walked over to Tall & Handsome's table.
Me: "Hello, I'm Jane, could you tell me where I-95 is?"
Tall & Handsome blankly looked up.
Me: "Actually if you want the truth -- I just need you to talk to me for a minute so my mother can stop bothering me about coming over to talk to you."
Tall & Handsome was quite touched.
Tall & Handsome: "Sure, I'm Eric. (He held his hand out for me to shake it.) Have a seat."
I sat.
Eric: "So, are you from around here?"
Me: "No, I'm from NJ. My mother just moved here. I drove her here."
Eric: "How do you like Miami?"
We sat there for 20 or so minutes and chat about the locations he has lived at, I expressed how small I found Miami to be, & he agreed. There was more chat about Boston and New York, he asked for my e-mail, I told him, then shortly after that he said, "I think your mother is leaving." I turned, he was correct, she was on the move. "That means she's coming over here. Well, it was nice meeting you." I stood, we shook hands and I took leave to look for my vanished mother.
I found her in moments standing at the coffee bar, asking for a refill. When I approached her she started to talk. I think she asked, did he tell you any fun places to go, or, what happened? She spoke for a few minutes as I stared into her face, until I said,
"I don't know what you're saying? I can't think!"
When I said this my mother pointed over my shoulder, at Eric.
Eric: "Hey, I just wanted to say it was nice meeting you." (Shakes my hand again. Then to my mother.) Hello, I'm Eric. (Eric something, he said a last name, but I have no idea what he said? He then shook my mother's hand.)
My Mother: "I'm Maria ***** -- It's nice to meet you."
Me: "Okay, I'll see you later." (I was having a difficult time keeping up.)
Eric smiled and turned to leave, then he turned back and said something about an e-mail? I don't know what he specifically said, I only kept smiling and waving like some fool.
After he left, my mother: "I think he heard you say you couldn't think."
Me: "You think he heard me?!." (I laugh.)
Mother: "What happened?"
Me: "I don't know. I don't know. Let me think about it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This is the end of that story, well, we went to a few art galleries, than went home. But I know I have to explain this one.
I never lose my cool, my knees never tremble. This was only because man always comes to me. I have ne -ver approached a man. Is this what men go through? Because there is a serious high that comes with this success. And, wow, it must suck to get turned down.
But enough, this is longer than expected. And yes, my mother is like this.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Miami Beach
Two days ago I decided to visit Miami, yet when I saw the sign for Miami Beach I drove towards that direction. On the ways to Miami Beach I became lost more than once because I kept saying, "I don't need this! I can follow signs," as I kept turning off the GPS.
When I arrived I found a parking garage, then went on to lunch at the 'Eleventh Street Diner.' Bells? It's a restaurant featured on 'Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.' (Guy, keep on bleaching that hair, it suits you.) The pear salad, it was good. I sat at the outdoor porch and wrote notes in my journal as I ate.
Then it was a walk on Ocean Drive through the Art Deco event that took over most of the strip. I noticed that there were many men riding bicycles, these men, not teenagers, donned black, and some had bright color sunglasses on, but with the black. It was quite a contrast to the palms and cerulean sky. There was also a man walking around with a large snake hung around his neck charging $5 per photo, I almost stopped, but didn't. I was in observation mode, which means continue to walk and see until the need to passes.
I walked until I became warm, until I thought: It would be nice to shed these jeans and sit by the water. I had a bikini in my purse, a part of me secretly knew I was heading to the beach. But where to change? Public restrooms are gross, so I went into an "American Apparel.' I chose three items at random, went to the dressing room, and changed into my bathing suit. I went in un-noticed, left un-noticed. I enjoy being sneaky from time to time.
At the beach I got comfortable on my green towel, stared up at the sky and thought I feel unreachable, this is nice, and what month is it? Then a group of girls approached this group of men that were laying close by. Their leader, their extrovert asked the boys if they could take pictures with them so they could post them on FaceBook. Are we doing this now? Are we posing for pictures with strangers for the appearance of fun? What about the real fun -- Don't we want the real stuff anymore?
After the beach I decided to find the Botanical garden. If you do not know by now, I have a thing for gardens. I walked from Eleventh Street to First on an in-land road that was shaded by palms and other tropical trees, all of the houses were stucco, and painted in varying warm colors. It felt like South America.
Miami Beach's Botanical Garden, is more park than garden, given there is no garden. But it has it's own charm. There are many man made grassy hills where skate boarders have set upon ruining, and there is an amazing look-out that over-sees the water.
Is there more? There sure is. But I think I'm going to call it here. After all, it is an art.
When I arrived I found a parking garage, then went on to lunch at the 'Eleventh Street Diner.' Bells? It's a restaurant featured on 'Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.' (Guy, keep on bleaching that hair, it suits you.) The pear salad, it was good. I sat at the outdoor porch and wrote notes in my journal as I ate.
Then it was a walk on Ocean Drive through the Art Deco event that took over most of the strip. I noticed that there were many men riding bicycles, these men, not teenagers, donned black, and some had bright color sunglasses on, but with the black. It was quite a contrast to the palms and cerulean sky. There was also a man walking around with a large snake hung around his neck charging $5 per photo, I almost stopped, but didn't. I was in observation mode, which means continue to walk and see until the need to passes.
I walked until I became warm, until I thought: It would be nice to shed these jeans and sit by the water. I had a bikini in my purse, a part of me secretly knew I was heading to the beach. But where to change? Public restrooms are gross, so I went into an "American Apparel.' I chose three items at random, went to the dressing room, and changed into my bathing suit. I went in un-noticed, left un-noticed. I enjoy being sneaky from time to time.
At the beach I got comfortable on my green towel, stared up at the sky and thought I feel unreachable, this is nice, and what month is it? Then a group of girls approached this group of men that were laying close by. Their leader, their extrovert asked the boys if they could take pictures with them so they could post them on FaceBook. Are we doing this now? Are we posing for pictures with strangers for the appearance of fun? What about the real fun -- Don't we want the real stuff anymore?
After the beach I decided to find the Botanical garden. If you do not know by now, I have a thing for gardens. I walked from Eleventh Street to First on an in-land road that was shaded by palms and other tropical trees, all of the houses were stucco, and painted in varying warm colors. It felt like South America.
Miami Beach's Botanical Garden, is more park than garden, given there is no garden. But it has it's own charm. There are many man made grassy hills where skate boarders have set upon ruining, and there is an amazing look-out that over-sees the water.
Is there more? There sure is. But I think I'm going to call it here. After all, it is an art.
Monday, January 11, 2010
NJ to FL Part III
This day was by far my favorite. The dog was settled, no more whining, when my mother complained of the MPH, I took my foot off the pedal, fun was being had. O and Savannah....
Savannah you are a gem and I love you. I walked every street on the map I brought along. Savannah thoughtfully decorates their terraces with vines and other kinds of greenery. I do not have a green thumb, but no doorstep was alike. The buildings were mostly small, four to five floors to each one. Bull Street, the main path of the many squares was, enchanting. I kept thinking of how Anne Rice described New Orleans. I've never been, but Savannah seemed to fit in with her sketch. I was also reminded of Belgium, how easy it was to get around the city, and how the city had it's own personality. Belgium had it's art, the statues, the sculptures, the poetry written on the streets. And Savannah had it's squares with the canopies of weeping willows, the gardens, and the Forsyth Park Fountain that produces rainbows. Savannah I will be back to flirt with you a little more. (O the only thing that confused me were the palm trees -- Savannah, Palm trees?)
When it was time to leave town I was most unhappy. My mother drove as I gave good-bye looks all around me. O it was so sad. After two hours of driving the sun commenced to set, the sky went rose-violet, I tried to capture it with my camera, but the device did it no justice. Then I started taking pictures of truck drivers, then just anyone really, and laughing to myself about it. No-one seemed to mind, much. My mother kept asking me what I was doing, and I kept responding, "Nothing," in my most angelic tone. When she drove, both hands were on the wheel, the seat was pushed as far up as possible, (I don't know how she did it?) her eyes never waivered from the stern look she gave the road. Lawd, if I were to drive like that, I would not last twenty-four minutes.
When we got to Florida, A- I was driving, and B - There was a very flat celebration. It was an inward hooray. We were effing tired. And it didn't help that I got on the Florida TurnPike the not right way, I drove 60 miles North! There were no effing exits, or rest-stops, there was nothing for 60 miles. It was dark and scary. Florida dear, put in a U-Turn between Orlando and Miami, that stretch needs one.
At 3a.m. on Friday the mission was completed. We made it! (And we're still friends.) We were expecting some type of parade to greet us -- But when we realized that we were supposed to do the marching and blow up the odd shaped floats ourselves we thought better of it and postponed it till a more reasonable hour.
What now? Let's see.
Savannah you are a gem and I love you. I walked every street on the map I brought along. Savannah thoughtfully decorates their terraces with vines and other kinds of greenery. I do not have a green thumb, but no doorstep was alike. The buildings were mostly small, four to five floors to each one. Bull Street, the main path of the many squares was, enchanting. I kept thinking of how Anne Rice described New Orleans. I've never been, but Savannah seemed to fit in with her sketch. I was also reminded of Belgium, how easy it was to get around the city, and how the city had it's own personality. Belgium had it's art, the statues, the sculptures, the poetry written on the streets. And Savannah had it's squares with the canopies of weeping willows, the gardens, and the Forsyth Park Fountain that produces rainbows. Savannah I will be back to flirt with you a little more. (O the only thing that confused me were the palm trees -- Savannah, Palm trees?)
When it was time to leave town I was most unhappy. My mother drove as I gave good-bye looks all around me. O it was so sad. After two hours of driving the sun commenced to set, the sky went rose-violet, I tried to capture it with my camera, but the device did it no justice. Then I started taking pictures of truck drivers, then just anyone really, and laughing to myself about it. No-one seemed to mind, much. My mother kept asking me what I was doing, and I kept responding, "Nothing," in my most angelic tone. When she drove, both hands were on the wheel, the seat was pushed as far up as possible, (I don't know how she did it?) her eyes never waivered from the stern look she gave the road. Lawd, if I were to drive like that, I would not last twenty-four minutes.
When we got to Florida, A- I was driving, and B - There was a very flat celebration. It was an inward hooray. We were effing tired. And it didn't help that I got on the Florida TurnPike the not right way, I drove 60 miles North! There were no effing exits, or rest-stops, there was nothing for 60 miles. It was dark and scary. Florida dear, put in a U-Turn between Orlando and Miami, that stretch needs one.
At 3a.m. on Friday the mission was completed. We made it! (And we're still friends.) We were expecting some type of parade to greet us -- But when we realized that we were supposed to do the marching and blow up the odd shaped floats ourselves we thought better of it and postponed it till a more reasonable hour.
What now? Let's see.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
NJ to FL Part II
What to say about day two? We drove to Charlotte and seperately spent a few hours there. (Yes, there is such a thing as too much together time, especially for me. I can't stand anyone after seven hours, seven hours is my limit.) I purchased a latte at a Caribou Coffee, the area's Starbucks. (Although they also had Starbucks?) I walked around the jazzy city, asked a gentleman to snap a picture of me at some courtyard/grassy area I wondered over to, then I met with my mother and we left. I can't say that I was impressed. The buildings were built nicely -- Everything seemed efficient, but there weren't many people around. Maybe it was the time of day? I don't know, but it irked me nonetheless. A city needs it's people.
On route to Georgia we were stopped by another State Trooper. This one walked over to the passenger side window. The first contact that was made was my mother's line of: "O please don't give us a ticket." After eleven minutes the Trooper handed over a sheet of paper as he mumbled something about fighting the charge at court in March. Guess how much! $250 much. How is this legal? Two things: Speed limits are disgusting, and I will soon have a warrent out for my arrest in North Carolina because I refuse! to pay it. (Excuse the shoddy puncuation -- I need a little shout.)
After this unpleasant interruption to a some what dovey day I drove on to the soundtrack of my mother sobbing about the ticket. The woman loses it every time a ticket issue arises. I felt bad, real bad. She told me to slow down a number of times, But it's so hard -- The car accelrates with the slightest pressure! Yup I lost it.
Me: "I'm sorry."
Mother: "Maninha, I told you to slow down so many times!"
Me: "I know! That's why I kept speeding!"
Sobbing -- Sobbing
Me: "I can't take this anymore! It's too stressful!"
Mother: "You can't take what?"
Me: "I need to blast the music!"
Mother: "You can do what ever you want with the music!"
Me: "No! I know you don't like it! How am I going to enjoy something if I know you're misrable?"
Mother: "I can't believe that you got a ticket and you're yelling at me!"
Me: "I know! I'm sorry!"
Then it was silence for a long time. Then we pretended it never happened.
After a time we stopped off at a rest-stop for snacks. When we parked near the building we took note of the large black lab mix that was off the leash. My mother was naturally afraid to leave the car, and since he did not appear mean, I was not worried. Once I got out there Mr. Lab came right over. He was quite friendly and skinny. When I asked the cashier about the dog, the response I received was: "I think someone just left 'em here. He's been here for awhile and he doesn't have a collar." Then she told me that he wasn't the first, that there were a number of dogs that were abandoned there in that way. I felt sick upon hearing this. I went to the car to fetch the half eaten burger that I wasn't hungry for when I purchased it earlier, and fed it to the dog. I played with him a little, then attempted to persuade my mother that it was only right to take him with us. She did not agree.
After this we dreamed at a hotel in Georgia.
On route to Georgia we were stopped by another State Trooper. This one walked over to the passenger side window. The first contact that was made was my mother's line of: "O please don't give us a ticket." After eleven minutes the Trooper handed over a sheet of paper as he mumbled something about fighting the charge at court in March. Guess how much! $250 much. How is this legal? Two things: Speed limits are disgusting, and I will soon have a warrent out for my arrest in North Carolina because I refuse! to pay it. (Excuse the shoddy puncuation -- I need a little shout.)
After this unpleasant interruption to a some what dovey day I drove on to the soundtrack of my mother sobbing about the ticket. The woman loses it every time a ticket issue arises. I felt bad, real bad. She told me to slow down a number of times, But it's so hard -- The car accelrates with the slightest pressure! Yup I lost it.
Me: "I'm sorry."
Mother: "Maninha, I told you to slow down so many times!"
Me: "I know! That's why I kept speeding!"
Sobbing -- Sobbing
Me: "I can't take this anymore! It's too stressful!"
Mother: "You can't take what?"
Me: "I need to blast the music!"
Mother: "You can do what ever you want with the music!"
Me: "No! I know you don't like it! How am I going to enjoy something if I know you're misrable?"
Mother: "I can't believe that you got a ticket and you're yelling at me!"
Me: "I know! I'm sorry!"
Then it was silence for a long time. Then we pretended it never happened.
After a time we stopped off at a rest-stop for snacks. When we parked near the building we took note of the large black lab mix that was off the leash. My mother was naturally afraid to leave the car, and since he did not appear mean, I was not worried. Once I got out there Mr. Lab came right over. He was quite friendly and skinny. When I asked the cashier about the dog, the response I received was: "I think someone just left 'em here. He's been here for awhile and he doesn't have a collar." Then she told me that he wasn't the first, that there were a number of dogs that were abandoned there in that way. I felt sick upon hearing this. I went to the car to fetch the half eaten burger that I wasn't hungry for when I purchased it earlier, and fed it to the dog. I played with him a little, then attempted to persuade my mother that it was only right to take him with us. She did not agree.
After this we dreamed at a hotel in Georgia.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
From New Jersey To Florida Part I
"I am alive." -- Was the text I sent to A, a dear dear friend, two or so days ago. Let us start with the short summery: I agreed to drive to Florida from New Jersey, plus mother, plus dog. Were there plans? I don't love the plans. All I knew was that I wanted to stop in Washington, DC, Charlotte, NC, and Savannah, GA.
The lengthy version starts on Tuesday morning if you care to know:
The first three hours on the road were a pleasure, that is, aside from my dog whining for three straight hours. At a rest stop somewhere in New Jersey I brought the dog in, although he annoyed me in a big way, I was not going to leave the desperate thing in the car. While checking out the beverage selection I was told by a rude manager type that dogs were not allowed. My response being: "Can I just buy a drink and go?" It was a bloody rest stop! The dog weighs 7lbs, what was she thinking? As I kept on with the drink search this woman approached me a second time to repeat her silly song, at which point I responded, "I will be leaving in a moment, if you can't wait a moment, then call security." At this, she left me to my business.
Around hour four we stopped for lunch at the Marvelous Market in Washington, DC. The attendants there permitted us to stay and sit, with the awareness that we were with dog. I have to report that once the NJ/NY area was left, persons had a friendlier disposition. Dear NJ/NY are we really what everyone deems us to be? When I asked the cashier how to get to the Washington Monument, she went downstairs to print map quest directions for us. Washington, I will be back.
As we drove towards the monument my mother opened her to-go bag and realized they had given her the wrong muffin. "I was dying for that chocolate chip muffin," she said.
Me, "Really? You were dying for that muffin?"
Mother: "Yessss."
Me: "Alright then, let's go back."
Mother: Smile.
After the muffin switch we drove towards the monument, in minutes I had a glimpse. I became excited, but there was no-where to park! It was bloody Washington, which means the ratio of security walking about, and the NO PARKING signs were equal. When I realized we were getting further and further away from the destination point I turned and said, "Do you mind if I park, run over, and take a quick look?"
Mother: "What am I going to do?"
Me: "Stay in the car." (She had zero interest in sightseeing.)
Mother: "Janie, it's far, why don't we just go? We're going to get traffic. It's almost 5 o'clock."
I look at her just as crazy as she was behaving.
Me: "What are you talking about? I just saw it! We just wasted 20 minutes on a muffin!"
People I was losing it. I was silent through the: "Watch the crumbs." "I don't think the door is closed." (Even though it was) "Jane, don't go faster than 80." "Why did you take the towel from the floor?" (For some reason she had a towel on the passenger side floor. (?)) "Janie, you can't drive with the dog in your lap." "I think we should stop for gas." (Even though it was at half tank) I could not breath heavily without having her ask if I was okay to drive. “Are you okay Jane, are you tired?”
Now, we're picking up at the monument conversation.
Me: "Okay, I'm going to have a quick look at the monument. You can come with me or stay here."
Mother: "But Janie, it's far away from here and it’s cold."
Me: "It's not far -- I just saw it. And I can bare the weather."
Mother: "What am I going to do?"
Me: "O my God, the heat is on, just sit here! I'll be right back!"
Mother: "What if we can't park here?"
Me: "I am taking my phone -- call me, only, if there is an issue with the parking."
(As I am leaving the car) Mother: "Janie, how long are you going to be?"
Me: “10 hours." (Door closes.)
I now understand why I don’t love the plans. I can now grasp why the idea of flipping off a cop in order to start a grand car chase causes me to blush. I do not like being told.
On route to the white building, I called A, to vent a little. "What was I thinking? I need you to look up trains -- I need to put her on a train!" She calmed me & made me laugh a little – Thank You Friend Of My Heart. While we spoke I climbed the white steps, my eyes met Abe Lincoln, and the sense of entrapment dissipated. I felt as if I were seeing something that I was meant to see in this life. Check. I tried to get closer, but of course no dogs were allowed to get anywhere near Mr. L.
(What is up with the dog hating? We love them in movies and television. Why exactly are we banning them from restaurants? Don’t we all eat our meals with our dogs sitting beside us, begging for a piece of anything?)
Upon the return my mother seemed a bit more composed, she stopped asking pointless questions, and I started with my own. I noticed that when she spoke most of the time she seized keeping track of the speed, which worked out well, until we got pulled over by Mr. Virginia State Trooper. The happenings of this ordeal went as such:
Mother: “O no Janie! We’re going to get a ticket!” (Pure anxiety)
Me: “We don’t know that, calm down, here take the dog.”
Mr. Trooper walks over to my window.
Mr. Trooper: “Good evening Miss.”
Me: “Hello.”
Baby barks & attempts to get at him.
Me: “Sorry, he always acts this way with strangers.”
Mr. Trooper: “That’s okay. I have a dog in the back of my car. I know how it is.”
I laugh.
Trooper: “So, is there a reason why you were doing 87 in a 65 zone?”
Me: “I’m just trying to stay awake.”
Mr. Trooper: “Where are you trying to get to?”
Me: “Florida.”
Trooper: (laughs) “You still have a ways to go.”
Me: “I know. Isn’t terrible?”
Mr. Trooper: “You should probably pull over to rest. There’s a welcoming center 23 miles from here, you two should get out there and stretch your legs.”
Me: “What exit am I looking for?”
Mr. Trooper: “128.”
Me: “Okay we’re going to do that.”
Mr. Trooper backs two steps away from the car.
Mr. Trooper: “I’ll tell you when you can get out.”
Me: (A little surprised) “Okay, thanks.”
A moment.
Mr. Trooper: “Kay, you can go.”
Me: “Now?”
Mr. Trooper: “Now.”
As we pull away, “Thank you!”
Once my mother and I were alone,“What was that?”
Me: “I don’t know?”
Did we stop? Of course not, we drove on until we could not stand it any longer, at which point we went to the Garmen to find us a hotel. A Best Western popped up, Go it was.
O dear life, your humor is so off at times. We followed the mono-toned voice to this motel looking place on a nothing happening back-road in North Carolina. Folks it was trashy, but we figured since we were exhausted that it wouldn’t hurt to look at the room.
When I turned on room 145’s lights, I thought, I’d rather drive all night than deal with this retched room. I walked back to reception, as I passed our car I shook my head hard, so my mother knew it was shit. When I handed the key over and politely said, “No, thank you,” I got:
Mr. Reception: “May I ask if there was something wrong with the room?”
Me: “Umm no. The room is finee. It’s just a little far from where we need to be.” (I suck at the lying)
Mr. Reception: “Where are you going?”
Me: “Charlotte.”
Mr. Reception: “Well, that’s only an hour and a half from here, you might as well stay.”
Me: “Yeah ahh, the thing is, this road back here is little scary, I’m used to more activity.”
Mr. Reception: “I’m sorry Miss. But this the country.”
Me: “You know, my mother is in the car, she’s old, she doesn’t like stuff like this. I think I’m just going to go. Thanks anyway.” (It was so awful. I did not know what to say.)
After this we booked a room at a Holiday Inn. Was it remarkable? No. But clean it was. I trust all tall buildings with elevators.
The lengthy version starts on Tuesday morning if you care to know:
The first three hours on the road were a pleasure, that is, aside from my dog whining for three straight hours. At a rest stop somewhere in New Jersey I brought the dog in, although he annoyed me in a big way, I was not going to leave the desperate thing in the car. While checking out the beverage selection I was told by a rude manager type that dogs were not allowed. My response being: "Can I just buy a drink and go?" It was a bloody rest stop! The dog weighs 7lbs, what was she thinking? As I kept on with the drink search this woman approached me a second time to repeat her silly song, at which point I responded, "I will be leaving in a moment, if you can't wait a moment, then call security." At this, she left me to my business.
Around hour four we stopped for lunch at the Marvelous Market in Washington, DC. The attendants there permitted us to stay and sit, with the awareness that we were with dog. I have to report that once the NJ/NY area was left, persons had a friendlier disposition. Dear NJ/NY are we really what everyone deems us to be? When I asked the cashier how to get to the Washington Monument, she went downstairs to print map quest directions for us. Washington, I will be back.
As we drove towards the monument my mother opened her to-go bag and realized they had given her the wrong muffin. "I was dying for that chocolate chip muffin," she said.
Me, "Really? You were dying for that muffin?"
Mother: "Yessss."
Me: "Alright then, let's go back."
Mother: Smile.
After the muffin switch we drove towards the monument, in minutes I had a glimpse. I became excited, but there was no-where to park! It was bloody Washington, which means the ratio of security walking about, and the NO PARKING signs were equal. When I realized we were getting further and further away from the destination point I turned and said, "Do you mind if I park, run over, and take a quick look?"
Mother: "What am I going to do?"
Me: "Stay in the car." (She had zero interest in sightseeing.)
Mother: "Janie, it's far, why don't we just go? We're going to get traffic. It's almost 5 o'clock."
I look at her just as crazy as she was behaving.
Me: "What are you talking about? I just saw it! We just wasted 20 minutes on a muffin!"
People I was losing it. I was silent through the: "Watch the crumbs." "I don't think the door is closed." (Even though it was) "Jane, don't go faster than 80." "Why did you take the towel from the floor?" (For some reason she had a towel on the passenger side floor. (?)) "Janie, you can't drive with the dog in your lap." "I think we should stop for gas." (Even though it was at half tank) I could not breath heavily without having her ask if I was okay to drive. “Are you okay Jane, are you tired?”
Now, we're picking up at the monument conversation.
Me: "Okay, I'm going to have a quick look at the monument. You can come with me or stay here."
Mother: "But Janie, it's far away from here and it’s cold."
Me: "It's not far -- I just saw it. And I can bare the weather."
Mother: "What am I going to do?"
Me: "O my God, the heat is on, just sit here! I'll be right back!"
Mother: "What if we can't park here?"
Me: "I am taking my phone -- call me, only, if there is an issue with the parking."
(As I am leaving the car) Mother: "Janie, how long are you going to be?"
Me: “10 hours." (Door closes.)
I now understand why I don’t love the plans. I can now grasp why the idea of flipping off a cop in order to start a grand car chase causes me to blush. I do not like being told.
On route to the white building, I called A, to vent a little. "What was I thinking? I need you to look up trains -- I need to put her on a train!" She calmed me & made me laugh a little – Thank You Friend Of My Heart. While we spoke I climbed the white steps, my eyes met Abe Lincoln, and the sense of entrapment dissipated. I felt as if I were seeing something that I was meant to see in this life. Check. I tried to get closer, but of course no dogs were allowed to get anywhere near Mr. L.
(What is up with the dog hating? We love them in movies and television. Why exactly are we banning them from restaurants? Don’t we all eat our meals with our dogs sitting beside us, begging for a piece of anything?)
Upon the return my mother seemed a bit more composed, she stopped asking pointless questions, and I started with my own. I noticed that when she spoke most of the time she seized keeping track of the speed, which worked out well, until we got pulled over by Mr. Virginia State Trooper. The happenings of this ordeal went as such:
Mother: “O no Janie! We’re going to get a ticket!” (Pure anxiety)
Me: “We don’t know that, calm down, here take the dog.”
Mr. Trooper walks over to my window.
Mr. Trooper: “Good evening Miss.”
Me: “Hello.”
Baby barks & attempts to get at him.
Me: “Sorry, he always acts this way with strangers.”
Mr. Trooper: “That’s okay. I have a dog in the back of my car. I know how it is.”
I laugh.
Trooper: “So, is there a reason why you were doing 87 in a 65 zone?”
Me: “I’m just trying to stay awake.”
Mr. Trooper: “Where are you trying to get to?”
Me: “Florida.”
Trooper: (laughs) “You still have a ways to go.”
Me: “I know. Isn’t terrible?”
Mr. Trooper: “You should probably pull over to rest. There’s a welcoming center 23 miles from here, you two should get out there and stretch your legs.”
Me: “What exit am I looking for?”
Mr. Trooper: “128.”
Me: “Okay we’re going to do that.”
Mr. Trooper backs two steps away from the car.
Mr. Trooper: “I’ll tell you when you can get out.”
Me: (A little surprised) “Okay, thanks.”
A moment.
Mr. Trooper: “Kay, you can go.”
Me: “Now?”
Mr. Trooper: “Now.”
As we pull away, “Thank you!”
Once my mother and I were alone,“What was that?”
Me: “I don’t know?”
Did we stop? Of course not, we drove on until we could not stand it any longer, at which point we went to the Garmen to find us a hotel. A Best Western popped up, Go it was.
O dear life, your humor is so off at times. We followed the mono-toned voice to this motel looking place on a nothing happening back-road in North Carolina. Folks it was trashy, but we figured since we were exhausted that it wouldn’t hurt to look at the room.
When I turned on room 145’s lights, I thought, I’d rather drive all night than deal with this retched room. I walked back to reception, as I passed our car I shook my head hard, so my mother knew it was shit. When I handed the key over and politely said, “No, thank you,” I got:
Mr. Reception: “May I ask if there was something wrong with the room?”
Me: “Umm no. The room is finee. It’s just a little far from where we need to be.” (I suck at the lying)
Mr. Reception: “Where are you going?”
Me: “Charlotte.”
Mr. Reception: “Well, that’s only an hour and a half from here, you might as well stay.”
Me: “Yeah ahh, the thing is, this road back here is little scary, I’m used to more activity.”
Mr. Reception: “I’m sorry Miss. But this the country.”
Me: “You know, my mother is in the car, she’s old, she doesn’t like stuff like this. I think I’m just going to go. Thanks anyway.” (It was so awful. I did not know what to say.)
After this we booked a room at a Holiday Inn. Was it remarkable? No. But clean it was. I trust all tall buildings with elevators.
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