Suburban Island

Sick Day(s) and a Dose of Spritopias

I have all these things I need to do, and want to do, but haven't done. Including writing here. It's been one thing after another on Suburban Island.

I came back from the cruise, which was phenomenal, and flew out to the annual meeting for work the next day. These work meeting are intense learning experiences and you are with your co-workers from the time you wake up until you drop off to sleep - exhausted. All through the meeting, I promised myself that I would come back and write more about my adventures on the high seas but I started feeling a little ill on my last day in Tuscon and by Friday night I was full out sick with a nasty respiratory virus. I rarely get so sick that I just stop everything and sit on the sofa or go up to bed but that is what I did. I had a sore throat, fever, cough, and that icky achy feeling. Because I have asthma, I know that there is more to come because my asthma is going to flair and even with meds I am wheezing and I know my breathing is way off. And maybe because of the wacky breathing, or the coughing, or the generally virus symptoms, my head just felt like it was spinning a little. I did get some medicine but by this morning I was still feeling really bad. I went to see my doctor and I am a mess. He told me to stop working for a few days - a hard order for me to follow but I will because he is right - and get some rest. He switched up my meds so I should be on the mend.

Enough about my sad state.

I had a wonderful opportunity while I was in Tucson to see one of my favorite bloggers and very cool person - Christopher aka Spritopias of Caustically Optimistic. He drove a couple hours to take me to lunch before my work conference started and I was so delighted to see him. Of course, you know we had to have an adventure - and we did. I call it the adventure of the lost restaurant.

Ironically, we couldn't find a restaurant to have our lunch at and the places the hotel recommended were all closed. Everything in town seemed to be closed on Sunday afternoon. We drove - or rather Christopher drove and I commented on the the interesting aspects of the local architecture. Christopher managed to park without incident in a parallel parking space down the street from some promising looking eateries but after dashing through the rain we discovered they were closed. Yes, everything was closed. Sadly, after power-parking, we had to shove of again in search for what we were beginning to despair of every finding - a restaurant with an OPEN sign in the window that didn't just serve beer and bar snacks. We were starving.

We drove down the restaurant-less streets as in some newly discovered Twilight Zone episode.

I have to tell you - I was getting worried. I think Christopher was too but he was soldiering on and because of his determination to prove that we were not in said Twilight Zone episode, he did spot a great restaurant where we dined on the most delicious sampler platter of quesadillas that I have ever had. Ditto on the tamales - corn, beef, and chicken. I was in heaven.

It was great fun seeing Christopher. And the lunch was his treat! Now that's a real pal.

A Bonus Day on the Rock Boat

When you have a cabin with no windows on a cruise ship, you can sleep half the day away. We were supposed to be frolicking in the Grand Caymans but the seas said no. However, we had no idea how fickle Mother Nature had been. We turned on the television for to check out the ship's webcam to get a glimpse of the weather and immediately thought - why are all these people still on the ship just hanging around the pool?

We were still not getting it though. We got dressed ASAP for a few hours at the beach.

When we asked one of the cabin stewards for details about where we needed to go to start our island vacation, he was speechless. And then he broke the bad news to us. However, they have redone the whole schedule and there are concerts galore going on today.

Yesterday, we saw Stroke 9, The Pat McGee Band, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and plenty more. The cafe on the ship was hopping at 2 AM. Pizza was the main fare, although there was cake to be had.

This morning after breakfast (at 12:30 PM), I snagged myself a crazy carved monkey-head drink container that says - HAVE FUN. I am bringing it home for my son who, I feel sure, will have a deep appreciation for its aesthetic qualities.

So we are stilling rocking on the ocean and heading to Jamaica. From somewhere in the Caribbean, this is Suburban Island

On the High Seas

I know - I don't post. I'm remiss but my heart is in the right place because I want you to know that I think about posting and how I am not posting literally every day. And then, I do all the other things I am supposed to do and deprive myself of the pleasure of the post.

But here I am on the high seas - really, I am. I am floating around on the Rock Boat in the middle of the ocean and we are having a blast. When I get back I will share more, but I will be coming home from this well-earned vacation and flying out again the next day for my company's annual business meeting. This year it is in Tucson and if all is well with the world, the great Spritopias will come by to have lunch with me.

But for now, I am listening to some killer bands and solo performers and drinking exotic concoctions and enjoying myself tremendously.

From somewhere in the Caribbean, this is Suburban Island.

Denver - A Rocky Mountain High

I just got back from a week in Denver for work. During my week I attending a “ gold-diggers' ball”, took a trip into the majestic Rocky Mountains, had a hair-raising experience thanks to 60 mph wind gusts, saw snow in June, hung out in the Denver Museum of Art while drinking killer chocolate martinis, saw a small herd of elk, heard two famous speakers present to standing-room only crowds, co-taught a podcasting class, went to a bloggers' lunch, and was delighted daily by the presence of a huge blue bear right outside the conference center. It was a great week.

I knew my trip to Denver was off to the right start when I witnessed the convergence of two unique sectors of society thrown together for one evening by the whims of fate. It occurred in the lobby of my hotel where librarians arriving for a conference and bodybuilders fresh from a big competition came face-to-face in lobby, bar, and elevator. As I saw one of the conference speakers – a real visionary in his field - clad in an orange v-neck sweater and framed in a background of muscled titans in shredded shirts and black leather, I knew that diversity was alive and well in America.

My college-age daughter came along with me and even attended a few of the conference programs. She has been coming to conferences with me since she was around 12-years old and we always have loads of fun. This year was no exception. Since teenagers and college-age kids tend to like to sleep in, I can work half the day before even having to worry about her getting bored. And how can she be bored when there is coffee to drink, gyms and swimming pools to hang out at, and of course, shopping to do – lots of shopping. My daughter can work a conference with the best of them. She knows how to go to events, navigate exhibit halls, sit through programs, attend client events, and socialize in professional settings. I am always so proud of her and it is such a pleasure to have her with me. As a working mom, I think this has been something special we have been able to do together that has created many memories and allowed her develop a lot of polish that I believe will help her in life.

Every time we go to a conference, I try to take an extra day for us to go somewhere special. In Denver, it was a day-trip to the Rocky Mountains. It was spectacular. The wind was blowing, and snow was coming down, and there was this majesty about the scenery that just made you feel renewed and awed. That purple mountain’s majesty stuff really gets to you when you are smack dab in the middle of it. Also, we got to stop at the Stanley – the hotel where Stephen King conceived The Shining. And they even squeezed in an hour of shopping at Estees Park into our trip before we rolled back towards Denver on that big deluxe tour bus. Yes, life is good when you get snow-covered mountains, high winds, box lunches, haunted hotels, and shopping rolled into one day. Even if you do get stuck in the back row of the bus by the john. At least nobody is kicking the back of your chair as you ride along. And we discovered that unlike such trips in which elementary school students are involved (a major part of the suburban parent's lot in life) - I discovered that most grown-ups will decide to hold it until the rest stop. Yup, sometimes life is very good indeed.

No Problem, Mon!

I am back from Jamaica. It was beautiful. The sun shone. Rum Crème poured like water. Remixed Reggae music spilled out over the landscape like sunshine pours over a lazy day. The ocean and sky were a perfect melody of blue around us, and greenery filled every corner in a way that my silk houseplants could never emulate.

I went to Jamaica to attend a friend’s wedding and my daughter came along with me. I didn’t realize how much I needed a vacation until I was lounging around poolside with a drink in my hand and a book on my lap. Imagine hanging around with Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet at the beach - drink at the ready and your iPod blaring - perfect. That was just what I did. The book I was reading was Mr. Darcy’s side of Pride and Prejudice (Pride and Prejudice has to be one of my very favorite pieces of literature bar none). The book is called – An Assembly Such as This by Pamela Aidan. It’s the first book in a trilogy and I fell in love with it. It was very entertaining reading; well written and engaging. It did not surprise me to learn that the author is a librarian by background. As a librarian by background myself, I take a special pride in librarians that knock the ball out of the park – which I think Pamela Aidan has done with this fascinating peek at the other side of one of the most famous love stories of all time. I had to run right out to the bookstore upon my return to buy the other two books in the Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman trilogy.

We got to Jamaica on Wednesday afternoon and my friend's wedding was on Saturday. The days flew by and suddenly it was the big day. The wedding was set in a chapel in a rainforest. How lovely to have butterflies winging through the room and rain pounding on the roof one second and sun shining down the next. My friend was a beautiful bride and her husband was as handsome as he was sweet. They are so much in love that it was hard not to smile just watching their happy day unfold so perfectly. Their reception took place in a restaurant with windows that overlooks a waterfall. Talk about beautiful. We were so happy to have been able to share in this wonderful couple's wedding day. The fact that it was in Jamaica didn't hurt either!

We also climbed a 600 foot waterfall – Dunn’s River Falls. That was an experience of a lifetime and for me – the suburbanite – quite a challenge. One of the biggest adventures was just navigating the open air craft market. Let's just say that the sale of souvenirs and local crafts is done on a very aggressive scale in these markets and you cannot meander casually around like craft shows in the U.S. just browsing. It was like running a gauntlet of beer mugs, paintings, and beaded necklaces. That made shopping a rather stressful experience for even me, for I am generally a person who will spend money on souvenirs and other fairly useless items if encouraged instead of harrassed.

One of the things I loved about the resort that we stayed at, the Sunset Jamaica Grande, was that it was all inclusive. You could eat, drink, and be merry as you would. There was always good food to be had at the resort's grills, specialty restaurants, and buffet. I had quite a few Jamaican patties - evidently a favorite national dish. The resort bars opened about 10 AM and stayed open into the wee hours. My daughter was excited by the very concept of the swim-up bar. I preferred to take my drinks back to the lounge chair and loose myself in the beautiful day and my book. Some evenings, we sat in the open air lobby and just hung out with friends. Before bed, we indulged in French fries and grilled cheese sandwiches. In the mornings, we arose to step out on our balcony and view another glorious cruise ship harbored for the day.

Life in suburbia never includes cruise ships, Mr. Darcy, and a ridiculously exotic drink at 11 in the morning. It was hard to come home to my to-do lists, ringing phones, and lack of rum drinks and Red Stripe on tap. Yet the airline tickets had a Sunday departure date on them and my calendar had Monday meetings so what’s a girl to do but pack her bags back up and head home?

At least I got to see Jamaica and soak it in for a few days – and hopefully I took away a little of the No Problem philosophy with me when I left. Will it last? We brought home a couple bottles of Rum Crème and I have the next volume in the Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman series – Duty and Desire – in hand, so ya mon - maybe it will. At least, until the rum and Mr. Darcy run out. Until then – No problem. For now everything is irie!

Hotel Sweet Hotel

After the questionable start to our Boston trip I figured things could only go uphill. I thought that until we pulled up to the hotel and dragged our bags into the tiny lobby of our home away from home for the next few days. The fellow behind the reception desk was busy talked to a rather strange crew of people loitering around the desk. Who could they be? It soon became apparent that these people were not guests but staff. It was a motley crew.

We checked in and stuffed ourselves into the tiniest elevator you would ever want to see. The door was so narrow that our bags would barely follow us into the car. Still, it was all good. We were in Boston and we had gotten out of the shuttle bus from the airport in one piece. As we walked down the hall of the hotel I noticed the exposed pipes and venting above us. The doors looked like somebody had built them from planks and then painted them a depressing grey-blue to clash with the dreary floral wallpaper that spanned the hall. I tried not to look down at the carpet. Our room had a sign above the number that had been removed and the empty space painted over so you could still see the edges where it had been yanked off. It made one wonder what it could have said.

This was not a good sign. No pun intended.

Inside the room was okay – a city view – not dirty but not super clean either. Well, we would invoke the comfort of room service and everything would be better. Where is the room service menu? I walked down the hall to ask one of the staff about this – they didn’t speak English so this conversation takes awhile but finally they tell me there is no menu. Hmmm. Surely they jest. I called down to the front desk – where is the room service menu – I asked. He told me that they would send someone right up with it. That someone arrived with something that didn’t look exactly like a menu but more like a little magazine. I tipped them and then we took a look. It was one of those lists of restaurants that deliver.

Another bad sign.

I walked over to the window. I saw, glimmering in the near distance like a beautiful beacon of hope, the big red Marriott sign blazing in the midday light. It was just down the street; so close but yet so unobtainable at that moment. It was calling to me like a siren song. Come - it said. Come and rest your weary head with us. We have room service. We have a Starbucks. We'll even hail you a cab every morning. What are you waiting for? I stretched out my hand and pressed it against the window like a kid pressing their nose against a Christmas display window. A great longing welled up from somewhere deep and primal in the core of me – I’m coming, I almost cried out loud. I’ll be over there as soon as I can possibly manage it.

I sat down and called the travel service immediately – I told them about the venting and the pipes and questioned the rating of the hotel in which they had so unkindly place us. They re-booked me to the Marriott – not for the first night as there was not a room available - but at least for the rest of our stay.

My daughter said that when she saw me taking my life in my hands by standing in the middle of the street hailing my own cab outside our fine little hotel the afternoon we arrived so I could go to the office for a few hours, she knew all would be soon be well. She was certain in that moment that I would move heaven and hell - if I had not done so already - for a room at the Marriott and that room service would soon be at her beck and call again. When I got in the cab that afternoon, my driver asked me with real curiosity if I was staying at "that hotel" and then went on to explain that it was a cheap place for tourists on a tight budget – not a good choice, Ma'am. And I bet he didn’t even know about the exposed pipes and venting or the blue and white doors that looked like painted paneling from the 60s gone very wrong.

I considered this conversation to be an affirmation of my judgement regarding our accomodations and a sign that I had made the right decision in heading for the Marriott as fast as my legs could carry me.

The next day, after a hard day of work, I arrived back at the hotel and we dragged our bags over to the Marriott. What a difference a day makes. When we came through the lobby a number of bright-faced staff wished us good day and welcomed us to the Marriott with big smiles. Yes. Better yet, we scored a concierge floor room. From our room on the 29th floor we could look out over Boston. Standing, dazzled by the view, I happened to glance down and noted that hunkered down in the evening light was our little hotel from hell. It looked a bit the worse for wear and really rather sullen from this angle and a great relief flooded over us at being out of there.

After a while, we pulled the drapes shut and began perusing the room service menu and remarking on the soft down bedding and saying stuff like - now, I'm happy and this is really nice and it's clean too. A soft knock came at the door interrupting our joyful babbling – would we like the beds turn down?

No, that’s all right – we said. I'd like to have given her a hug just for asking. She gave us big red lollipops shaped like lobsters before she left. Now if that’s not service, I don’t know what is.

Next Time, Take a Cab

BOSTON – Here I am in Boston. This is the last business trip of 2006 for me. This year I have been to Tampa, LA, Baltimore, St. Louis, Atlanta, and now Boston for business. I asked my 20-year old daughter to come along to Boston with me so she could have a little break. She can sleep in, do some shopping, and just relax while I go do my work. In the evening, we get some time to hang out. It’s nice where you are a working mom and can find a way to have some time with your kids.

I like Boston – so historic and lots to do – even if I really can’t do any of it because I am working. I have gotten little glimpses of the city going to and from the office, walking up the street from the office building to the local Starbucks, and gazing out the windows of workplace and hotel.

And in the evenings there is always dinner out. Dinner out rarely disappoints.

However, it was a rough start to the trip when I arrived on Tuesday and I began to wonder if my traveling for the year was going to end on a sour note. Right out of the box there was trouble. We decided to take a shuttle to the hotel – okay, I decided while my daughter voted for a taxi several times. I did it because I thought it would be cheaper and the shuttle guy said – we are leaving right now. I didn’t understand that what he really meant was – we are leaving right now to go 100 feet from where I picked you up to solicit more riders by screaming out the window (once with the window rolled up) to anyone foolish enough to look confused and be dragging a suitcase behind them and I am going to keep stopping and doing that every chance I get.

It’s a big airport, friends. It’s amazing how many times one determined shuttle guy can stop. Unfortunately, he was encouraged to continue in this activity by actually convincing somebody besides us to get in the shuttle van. A linebacker of a woman who looked like she could pound you into the ground if you gave her any sass came aboard. My daughter noted that at least this time the driver remembered to close the doors at the back of the van so that the suitcases did not fall out - something that had slipped his mind when we signed on to take a ride on this shuttle bus from hell and my daughter had to ask him to do before proceeding further.

Maybe things were looking up.

It seemed that our fellow rider was a business traveler who immediately got on her cell phone with someone named Hans who we began to suspect was happily hiding out in some office building in Germany from this intimidating Amazon. She wasted no time in ordering him about in a loud lofty tone so that we all must know – whether we cared to or not - that Hans (from Hamburg, Germany) was to ship “it” (we were only left to conjecture what "it" could possibly be) to Japan immediately and why hadn't this been already done. Of course, Hans – she sighed - my trip from Hamburg to Boston was tiring, tiring. You know how it is.

Our lives are obviously so pedestrian in comparison to hers. I imagine her thinking - These two American women. I bet they have nothing to ship to Japan. I bet they have no Hans in Hamburg to kick around.

My daughter rolled her eyes and, pulling out her own cell phone, begins feverishly text messaging people - an impressive display of texting talent that takes the breath away from those less talented than she at this art. Take that, you intimidator of hapless Hans in Hamburg. Yes, it seems we were with a world traveler of such great importance that she was traveling in a shuttle to her budget hotel – along with us. We were all in for a surprise. Her trip was going to get more tiring yet.

The shuttle driver was about to up the ante.

I guess that the confusion about open window/closed window was getting to him because he pulled to the curb and got out to get closer with his potential client base. Suddenly, the van began to roll backwards. There is no driver – he’s standing in the street soliciting riders. Finally, he realizes that the van is going somewhere without him. He had a bit of a struggle as he tried to open the door during which my life flashed before my eyes for a second and I mused on how this would be a perfect episode of The Office for next season. Luckily, he was able to get in and stop the vehicle before we were all in an accident without even getting past the front of the airport terminal.

We left the airport without further incident and made it by the skin of our teeth to the hotel. The travel folks at work said this hotel was a “preferred hotel”, a little hotel, a hotel that we just booked you in so enjoy. Ah, the hotel. That brings us to the next leg of our travels and troubles.

To be continued…

Suburban Island Goes To The Beach

Back again from a family vacation at the beach, I wonder how seven whole days can fly by like that. What was the beach like? Perfect. Click on the PLAY button below and take a trip to the beach with me. And don't forget to wash the sand off your feet when you're finished.

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Baltimore Is Beautiful

I do a lot of travel for work in June and July. In mid-June I traveled to Baltimore and I just got back from St. Louis. I've put together this photo montage of Baltimore, snapped on site and put together back home on Suburban Island. Click the CLICK TO PLAY and come along with me for a short visit to Baltimore, MD. Baltimore is beautiful.

We are going to walk down past the Convention Center to the Baltimore Harbor, get a look at the USS Constellation at dusk, watch the sun set and a full moon rise while eating crab cakes on the veranda of the famous Phillips Restaurant, eat lunch at the Rusty Scupper the next day, check out the harbor and the docks mid-day, and peek inside the National Aquarium.

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The photos are by Suburban Island. The music used in the montage is the Theme from Monsters Inc.

Where Did She Go?

I'm traveling for work - again. I am currently enjoying the city of St. Louis.

I snapped this photo of the impressive Gateway Arch from the Top of the Riverfront restaurant on the 28th floor of the Millenium Hotel. From this revolving perch we got an amazing view of St. Louis and a very tasty dinner as well.

So far St. Louis has been great fun. We have ridden to the top of the Arch in a tram car that could best be described as a retro space pod, eaten at a pizza joint recommended by Rachel Ray, and done some power shopping.

And now, back to St. Louis...