Thursday, January 28, 2010

Stowed Away

Being a stowaway on a business trip is like being a plus one but better. As a stowaway I have very few responsibilities thrust upon me, I’m simply required to stay out of the way of the ‘worker’, entertain myself during ‘working hours’ and avail myself to the ‘worker’ when and if they need companionship (dinner banter, a drink at the hotel bar, a friendly “how was your day”, pillow talk, etc…). In return for these pleasantries I am supplied with posh accommodations in a distant city and occasionally I have scored the extra perk of piggy backing onto an expense account. Over the years I’ve been the secret stowaway on trips to Telluride CO, Philadelphia, Washington DC (several times) and just recently Florida – it is truly a wonderful way to take a economical break from the daily drudgery of worker bee life – I highly suggest it.

It’s funny how the mind works, I travel alone often, I even went to London sans company. However even though I am very much a modern independent woman I always feel “alone” eating in restaurants at a table for one or taking a turn through a museum without a companion. Yet when I am a stowaway I DO all the same things without an escort but I never feel alone. I don’t have the urge to take a book to dinner, instead I sit confidently enjoying my meal, sipping a glass of wine all the while thinking that I’m NOT a single traveler I just happen to be traveling with somebody who is very important and busy. I strut through the tourist spots embracing my freedom to do whatever I want when I want knowing that in a few hours there will be somebody asking me about my adventurous day. During my most recent trip I became so confident in my independence that I even spent an entire day at Disney World – alone. This was quite a feat and I do admit I was apprehensive regarding the ‘creepy’ factor of a 39 year old wandering through the Magic Kingdom without a buddy or a child. However with the power of the internet in the palm of my hand to connect me to my friend base I texted, emailed, BBM’d and facebooked my way through a kick butt Disney day.

The Power of Positively WARM Thinking

My poor sole was lacking in vitamin D and just plain old warmth. Summer ‘09 was a total bust. With constant rain and temperatures topping out in the high sixties I never attained my bronze fertility goddess glow and entered the fall/ winter a sickly shade of pearlized lavender. By mid Jan I was DONE with this weather and sent out a missive begging my palls to partner me in a jaunt to anyplace that served tropical drinks under swaying palms. My peeps all fell flat – too busy, too broke, too whatever but I had sent out my call to the world and like most things in my life the answer came streaming back from a source that I had never thought to tap. A day after my cry for a vacation cohort an old buddy noticed my ‘on line’ status and shot me a quick IM bemoaning his current fate; he was trapped on a lengthy business trip at a luxury resort down in sunny Florida. As we exchanged pleasantries I logged into my Jet Blue account hovering my blinking cursor over the very tempting BUY NOW button as I impatiently awaited an invitation to stow away on yet another friend’s business trip. Within the half hour my flight and rental car were booked and within 45 minutes I was rummaging around my apartment un-space bagging my summertime togs.

Fast forward one week later I was napping poolside with the sun streaming down turning my nose and chest a warm shade of magenta. It was mind boggling that in less time it takes me to travel by train out to Mom’s on LI I was transported to a totally different world – how could this still be January? What kind of alternate universe did I travel too? No coat, no gloves, not even socks! I was wary of the whole “bare feet’ in the middle of January – it usually takes careful planning and several ‘treatments” beginning late March to have my toes ready for prime time Memorial Day weekend (my winter feet are not prepared for this type of surprise outing). But with T-bone’s prodding, “Let those toes out there! They want o be out!” I scrubbed them down, lubed ‘em up, coated them with a lovely neutral polish and set them free! Ahhhhh T-Bone was correct, my piggies were in hog heaven.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Excuse me Sir but your nose is in my hooch

I am a huge fan of mass transit, good thing since I have utilized it exclusively since selling my cranberry 4 door Saturn in 1996. It’s speedy, rather reliable, economical, and best of all I never need to shovel it out of a snow bank or scrape sheets of ice from its windshield. The down side of course is that I must share my travels with the public, and this is where the love affair with my chosen form of motorized mobility quickly turns sour, very sour.

There are of course the usual offenders, the stinky food consumers, the nail clippers, the nose diggers, the pole leaners, the “my balls are too big to close my legs” sitters, etc. However recently I have noticed a surge in an new form of rush-hour subway misconduct, the “I know there is not enough room for me to fit between these people however I am such a lazy a-hole that I will teeter my keester on the edge of the subway bench then bend forward so my head is directly in line with the strap hangers’ crotches.” Yep, three out of my past 5 days of commuting I’ve been smack up against a man (I have yet to see a woman do this – but I wouldn’t put it past them on the 7 train) who has his nose ¾ of an inch away from my nether regions. Doesn’t it suck enough that I have to stand jam packed like a sardine on the 7 train wrapped up like Nanook because of the subarctic temperatures but now in addition I have to host a stranger in my ‘lady area’? It’s a great core exercise though, with my feet firmly planted just far enough away from the overhead pole to be comfortable my pelvis pulled in tightly so as to not graze the bobble headed douche bag when the train banks ‘round the turn at Queens Plaza and my ass pulled in with my back arched so I don’t lean into my fellow commuter behind me, it takes all I have not to fall over during my 6 minute ride to Woodside.

But in hindsight I guess I shouldn’t complain, I mean the online dating thing has dried up (along with some other options) so with the joy that a new year brings to all of us I extend a grateful “THANKS” to the #7 train passengers who would rather sit bent in half with their top lip resting on my third coat button instead of standing for a 20 minute journey because without you I truly would have no ‘action’ at all.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Anti Social Networking

Oh so many good blogging opportunities are tossed into the bin for the small fact that the people whom I wish to blog about are actively linked to my facebook. Oh facebook you fickle mistress – I love you for you feed my innermost hunger for faceless cyber stalking yet just when I’ve collected a juicy blog worthy nugget your rotten head whips ‘round to bite me in the bottom.

The good thing though is that I keep a double secret private stash of such not internet publishable stories so when the time comes to write my memoirs or to produce my feature length biopic for the silver screen all of these life altering (not my life – others’ lives) episodes will be preserved. For the curious readers who are asking themselves, “Hmmm I wonder who will portray G in her movie?” – well it is no other than Queen Latifah (an obvious yet inspired choice). Others whom I have tapped to appear to portray friends and relatives are John Leguizamo, Liev Schreiber, Bonnie Hunt, Ali McGraw, Oliver Platt, Eric Dane (McSteamy),John Cusack, and Jason Alexander. Friends this is just a working list that will be expanded however if you feel that you have been neglected please submit your actor of choice directly to me.

Lastly here are three stories that have been stripped of all details because of my great deal of respect for the parties involved –either that OR I really don’t feel like being stabbed in my sleep.

· A person and a place then not a place.
· A person with stuff to look at makes me confused.
· A person, the internet, an email.