Okay, this is getting kind of nasty.
The scotch glass, complete with lemon twist, is still sitting here. Can housekeeping really not see that they left it here two days ago…?
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May 2008
Is it just me, or does everyone else think the Westin housekeeping staff should be picking up empty glasses rather than just leave them sitting in the hallway for a couple of days?
When checking in at 11:00 p.m. Saturday—the day before yesterday—I stopped by the bar and picked up a scotch on the way to the room (Macallan 12, for those of you who care). Brought it upstairs to sip on while unpacking. Left it on the desk the following morning for housekeeping to pick up.
Which they did, right before they simply parked it in the hallway, just outside my door.
Can’t help but wonder why it’s still here on Monday.
Huh.
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Dear Lord,
I know I’ve been remiss in keeping in touch lately—well, other than to ask you to let up on the jet lag—but I need a favor. Big one. Tonight, I talked Edie into running down to Chinatown with me so we could get some real, honest to goodness dim sum. She did, bless her heart, and the restaurant had it.
This was different than the dim sum in Hong Kong, though. Had liquid in it. As in squirts like a fire hose when you bite into it liquid that shot all over that gorgeous Tiffany-blue silk blouse Sunny made for me in Beijing.
Edie was really great about staying cool. Of course, I stopped breathing. I love this blouse, Lord—you know that better than anyone (thanks again, by the way, big time).
Any chance you can bless the dry cleaner for me in about five days when I stop by with the blouse in hand? Something tells me he’s gonna need it.
Thanks again for everything—and I do mean everything—you’ve done for me, Lord. You rock.
Amen.
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…be sure there’s a way everyone can spot each other.
The RetailSpeaks cocktail hour was tonight, in the eighth floor bar at the Marriott Marquis on Times Square. For some bizarre reason, the front bar was closed, but a few of us grabbed drinks from the back bar then snagged a table up front, just to be sure the rest of the group would see us (or we’d see them).
What’s that saying about the best laid plans…?
Bottom line: There were several micro-groups scattered about, no one spotting the others. My bad. Next time, gotta find a balloon or something to mark the right table. Drats.
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Ah…now I know why total strangers were calling me by name in the aisles today….
Have to admit, this feels good.
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Well folks, here we are, on my annual trip to Mecca—The National Stationery Show at the Javitz in New York. After a late (post-11:00 p.m.) arrival at the Westin Times Square last night, my eyes are a bit blurry…especially since I had to repack this morning so the porter could move me to the correct room (a regular occurrence for me the past few visits). Oh well. Puts me in a corner King, so the hassle’s worth it.
Of course, I’m still battling Godforsaken jet lag. Am now within about four hours of “normal”…that is, until you add the additional hour flying east to New York. Who knows? Maybe mind over matter will kick in.
Hope springs eternal.
This year, I’m wearing a couple of hats at the show, most notably that of “industry expert” for Epson. Am also here to meet with a couple of retailers as their consultant, and to source product for several others unable to attend the show. Means running like a banshee from point A to point B, even more than when I was here as my own buyer. Pretty sure the days of slow going are long gone.
Nonetheless, one tradition still stands—my visit to the Crane’s booth to chat with Christopher Gleason, the nicest man on earth. Seriously. He was my Crane’s rep for most of the fourteen years of the store, but better yet, became a dear friend over the past eight or nine. Since my first visit to NSS fifteen years ago (seriously), opening day includes a morning stop to see Chris, share a hug, and laugh a bit. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
Had lunch in the VIP Buyers Lounge with a few friends, and am off to the Espon booth where I’ll be consulting retailers on how to grow their in-house print operation. Today and tomorrow, I’m in from 3:00 ‘til 6:00; Tuesday and Wednesday, it’s 11:00 ‘til 2:00. Something tells me I’m going to enjoy this process, since “paying it forward” is my drug of choice.
Toodles.
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Saturday, May 10, 2008
Minneapolis
Oh, Lord, do I have a new appreciation for people who fly around the world constantly. Jet lag is killing me.
Day one, I was great. Well, maybe not “great,” but not flat on my back. Well, not unless you count the two hour nap that afternoon since I nearly fell asleep (a) sitting at the DMV, (b) in the checkout line at Byerly’s, and (c) while on Highway 100 coming home. Still, even with the nap, I fell right asleep at 11:00 p.m., and woke up just before the alarm went off.
Day two, even better. Up before the alarm. To bed at 11:00. Slept like a baby.
Day three? Death.
Got up before the alarm again (should have explained, that’s my normal pattern), but caved in and took a four hour nap yesterday afternoon, in spite of superhuman efforts not to.
Woke up at 6:00 p.m….and was wide-awake-alert until 7:30 this morning. My body is officially back on China time.
I call Jenn, who travels the world with regularity. She explains that, basically, for every hour of time zone shift, you need to figure one full day of recovery.
Huh???
That’s thirteen days. Thirteen days I don’t have. I leave for New York–for the National Stationery Show, no less–in one week.
I’m doomed.
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I was careful with the water in China. Only drank that which was (a) bottled or (b) filtered.
Of course, it never occurred to me the bottle of water dewy from its time in melted ice in a cooler on top of the Great Wall might do me in.
Twenty-four hours at home, and I’m wrestling with a little “bug” that can only be attributed to me forgetting to wipe off the top of the bottle. My bad.
And folks, bad is the operable word here. Trust me. It ain’t pretty.
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