I love breakfast. If I had time to sit down to a huge breakfast everyday I would be a happier woman. If I could design my perfect breakfast it would have to include at least most of the following: thick cut French toast with butter and real maple syrup, corned beef hash splashed with hot sauce (Tabasco or Texas Pete), runny eggs, slices of crumbly sharp cheddar cheese, sautéed mushrooms, fresh fruit and did I mention the hot, fresh coffee, black. Give me my crossword puzzle and/or a really good Spenser novel and I will be happy for hours.
Let’s compare that to the typical American hotel breakfast. First, there are coaster shaped eggs that are thawed and placed in a warmer. There are identically shaped sausage patties in the next warmer. The toast bin is filled with dried out English muffins and thinly sliced bread. The fruit bowl is brimming with tasteless oranges, mealy apples, and dark brown bananas. The juice machine makes weird pumping noises as your juice splutters out, either too watery or too concentrated, and the coffee is “just water dressed in brown.”
Of course, the waffle machine is gleaming in three day old Pam non-stick spray and the paper Dixie cups of waffle batter are bubbling its leavening out into the breakfast room. The waffle syrup comes in those jelly, peel off the label, plastic containers. The expiration dates are rubbed off. And there is a crock pot filled with oatmeal, globbed and solidified around the plastic ladle stuck in the pot.
The muffins are previously frozen and individually wrapped, as are the ancient Danishes. Of course only cherry or blueberry are left usually, no cheese; stupid Danishes. Yes, there are hotels that have better breakfasts, but my work does not send me to those places.
My experience overseas spoiled me with amazing hotel breakfast. My first great breakfast experience was in Knightsbridge, London at a tiny place that was about $300 USD a night. The breakfast had sliced cheeses and meat, dried fruit, fresh toast and hot tea; Croissants and yogurt and delicious preserves. Yum. The other great breakfast experience was at a Hilton in Paramatta, Australia, a suburb of Sydney. Now, the breakfast was about $25 AUD, but it was totally worth it. (And I ate that breakfast for weeks at a time.) Bowls of fresh fruit, piles of pastries, sliced meats and cheeses, cheesy scrambled eggs, sautéed mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, fried toast, crispy bacon and sausage links, and fresh squeezed juices. Amazing.
I am looking forward to many more sexy breakfast experiences in my life. I am sure our time in Greece and London during our honeymoon will help my cause. But in the future I am going to have to go live overseas, start staying in fancy boutique hotels, or just wake up at 4am everyday to make breakfast for myself. The loss of sleep might totally be worth it for that kind of happiness.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Birmingham, Alabama
Birmingham Alabama is a big city. I had no idea. And the rush hour traffic is ridiculous. But, like every other city in America, the store that we have opened is on THE STRIP: Office Max, Petsmart, Target, Wallmart, Macaroni Grill, Carabas, Ross, line the miles of four lane highway leading away from downtown. Despite this “every-town” America look, Birmingham is lush and green, very hilly and covered in kudzu. The downtown itself is large and has that 1950s feel, like no building has been added to the city since.
I could tell the airport was built in the 60s or 70s as soon as the plane pulled up to the jetway. The terminal is a glass and steel long arc, wrapping around the enormous circular brown cement parking lot which rises two stories over the top of the terminal. A divide road runs around the inside of the terminal arc and the outside of the parking garage with entrances to the garage on one side and drop off points on the other side.
The airport is easy to navigate. The baggage claim is easy to find and the luggage arrived with very little wait. A strong odor of bacon and fried okra wafts throughout the entire airport and was not unpleasant, however, I hadn’t eaten anything is hours, so that may have been the reason I liked the smell.
The rental car agent was across four lanes in the parking garage. Our car was nearby and the airport was easy to exit. Overall, the Birmingham airport gets a “great” for ease and speed, and a “good” for design.
I could tell the airport was built in the 60s or 70s as soon as the plane pulled up to the jetway. The terminal is a glass and steel long arc, wrapping around the enormous circular brown cement parking lot which rises two stories over the top of the terminal. A divide road runs around the inside of the terminal arc and the outside of the parking garage with entrances to the garage on one side and drop off points on the other side.
The airport is easy to navigate. The baggage claim is easy to find and the luggage arrived with very little wait. A strong odor of bacon and fried okra wafts throughout the entire airport and was not unpleasant, however, I hadn’t eaten anything is hours, so that may have been the reason I liked the smell.
The rental car agent was across four lanes in the parking garage. Our car was nearby and the airport was easy to exit. Overall, the Birmingham airport gets a “great” for ease and speed, and a “good” for design.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Fall Has Arrived
As soon as the winds change and the air dries a little and cools and the slant of the light changes I get the urge to crochet. This urge is pretty strong and I end up having to submit without much of a fight. This fall the first project took three days (about 3 hours of work). It is a sweater and hat set, Bronwen size.
The next project is a sweater (my size) made from the same variegated yarn as Bronwen's but in navy, brown and green shades.
The next project is a sweater (my size) made from the same variegated yarn as Bronwen's but in navy, brown and green shades.
Friday, September 7, 2007
My First Final Exam
Getting measured by the trainer at the gym is like showing up for math class and realizing you haven’t studied for the final exam that is about to begin in 1 minute. I was dreading this moment, and as far as I was concerned there was nothing left to do, but sit down and pull out my number 2 pencil.
Keisha started with my weight.
“Okay, you were 169 pounds last time…” she said perusing the numbers she took on the first day we met, about a month ago.
I stepped onto the scale, slid the weights to the right until the little metal arm balanced,
“and, you are 169 pounds now. No change.” She wrote 169 down on her paper.
“I’ve already failed and the test has only just begun!” I thought.
“Now, your measurements; first your bust. You were 42 inches last time…”
I put my arms up as she wrapped the measuring tape around my top.
“and you are 42 inches now. No change.” She wrote 42 down on her paper.
“How can that be?” I thought, “I have been busting my ass at the gym for weeks! No more beer!”
“Okay,” Keisha smiled at me, sensing my growing despair, “let’s measure the arms.” Again, the tape was wrapped around my bicep.
Silence.
“Same.”
“Ha!” I tried to laugh it off, but I think it came out more like a hysterical monkey scream than a laugh. Is it lame to cry at the gym?
“Okay, the waist.”
“No!” I thought, “not the waist.” I will just run out of the building if this measurement turns out to be the same as it was a month ago. I will run out of the front door and go gorge myself on fried twinkies, rare fatty steaks, and beer
“35.25 inches!” Keisha said, “that’s .75 less than last time!”
“Hooray.” I mumbled to myself, “What’s that, an F+ so far?”
“Now the hips…” Around went the tape again. “You’ve gone down almost 2 inches!”
Now that perked me up. 2 inches is not too shabby.
And it got better from there on out. Apparently I am losing the inches from the bottom up. So at the end of the measuring, Keisha announced the final total.
“3.75 inches lost (like I want them to be found again?), and 3.2% body fat loss! Congratulations!”
It was hard to not feel like I had just received a D- on my final exam, but my instructor seemed happy with the results so I perked up.
Our workout seemed harder than usual, but it has been a week since I workout. (Damn those holiday weekends!) We made a plan for a better diet and she sent me on my way. So, back to work until the next final exam. Maybe next time I will at least get a C. That’s passing right?
Keisha started with my weight.
“Okay, you were 169 pounds last time…” she said perusing the numbers she took on the first day we met, about a month ago.
I stepped onto the scale, slid the weights to the right until the little metal arm balanced,
“and, you are 169 pounds now. No change.” She wrote 169 down on her paper.
“I’ve already failed and the test has only just begun!” I thought.
“Now, your measurements; first your bust. You were 42 inches last time…”
I put my arms up as she wrapped the measuring tape around my top.
“and you are 42 inches now. No change.” She wrote 42 down on her paper.
“How can that be?” I thought, “I have been busting my ass at the gym for weeks! No more beer!”
“Okay,” Keisha smiled at me, sensing my growing despair, “let’s measure the arms.” Again, the tape was wrapped around my bicep.
Silence.
“Same.”
“Ha!” I tried to laugh it off, but I think it came out more like a hysterical monkey scream than a laugh. Is it lame to cry at the gym?
“Okay, the waist.”
“No!” I thought, “not the waist.” I will just run out of the building if this measurement turns out to be the same as it was a month ago. I will run out of the front door and go gorge myself on fried twinkies, rare fatty steaks, and beer
“35.25 inches!” Keisha said, “that’s .75 less than last time!”
“Hooray.” I mumbled to myself, “What’s that, an F+ so far?”
“Now the hips…” Around went the tape again. “You’ve gone down almost 2 inches!”
Now that perked me up. 2 inches is not too shabby.
And it got better from there on out. Apparently I am losing the inches from the bottom up. So at the end of the measuring, Keisha announced the final total.
“3.75 inches lost (like I want them to be found again?), and 3.2% body fat loss! Congratulations!”
It was hard to not feel like I had just received a D- on my final exam, but my instructor seemed happy with the results so I perked up.
Our workout seemed harder than usual, but it has been a week since I workout. (Damn those holiday weekends!) We made a plan for a better diet and she sent me on my way. So, back to work until the next final exam. Maybe next time I will at least get a C. That’s passing right?
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Kentucky, Part 1
This weekend we put 1087 miles on my car. Around 4:45pm on Friday afternoon we left Greensboro with a car full of snacks and DVDs and too many clothes and drove north through Virginia and West Virginia, where we turned left and headed into Kentucky, past Moorehead, where apparently Cavin and Sunshine were soon to rest their weary heads, then onto Lexington. The Google directions I had printed out suggested a different exit from the one I am used to taking into the city, but since it was nearing midnight and I couldn’t remember the exact number of the exit, we followed the directions at hand and pulled up to my sisters house at 11:58pm.
The kids were put straight to bed, along with Dan, while MaryAlice and I got down to work, drinking a bottle of wine and trying on all of her new clothes and shoes. She has some awesome clothes.
We stayed up until 3am, so it was pretty painful when the kids woke us up at 6:45am that morning. We showered and dressed and walked down Limestone to our favorite coffee shop Third Street Stuff and Coffee. The girls ate chocolate croissants and bagels and we had coffee and Bronwen practiced her walking in the parking lot.
After that fun, we headed back to MaryAlice’s house and Bronwen and Dan took a nap. Piper and my sister hung out and I lied down on the couch.
Eventually, we got everything together, loaded up the car, circled the block and drove to my mom’s house where Jason and Dan were required to hang a massive mirror for my mother.
Then we all got into our respective cars, gassed up and drove two more hours west to my brother’s house. He was, after all, the entire reason why we had driven out to Kentucky in the first place. We got to his house around 2pm, central time, and Josh and Bronwen met each other for the first time.
It was wonderful to see my brother. After a year in the desert of working out and no drinking, he is very cut. He looks amazing. Unfortunately, Heidi (his wife) had pneumonia, so she stayed in bed most of the time.
Piper, Aiden (my nephew) and Bronwen played all day. We swung on the swings and fed the horses (one of the horses bit Dan), and we rode the four-wheeler all over. The kids collected dried corn out of the corn field; we got to be country mice for the day, and it was really relaxing.
Josh told me about Iraq. He only fired his weapon once the whole year, it was warning shot. I saw pictures. They were exactly what my imagination had devised; dusty, hot, and beige. He told me about the time when he was working on the computer and a mortar was dropped in front of the office and blew out all of the windows. He smiled when he said that he kept a piece of shrapnel as a souvenir. Overall, he looked great and seemed really well adjusted. I cried when we left them to head east, back to Lexington.
The kids were put straight to bed, along with Dan, while MaryAlice and I got down to work, drinking a bottle of wine and trying on all of her new clothes and shoes. She has some awesome clothes.
We stayed up until 3am, so it was pretty painful when the kids woke us up at 6:45am that morning. We showered and dressed and walked down Limestone to our favorite coffee shop Third Street Stuff and Coffee. The girls ate chocolate croissants and bagels and we had coffee and Bronwen practiced her walking in the parking lot.
After that fun, we headed back to MaryAlice’s house and Bronwen and Dan took a nap. Piper and my sister hung out and I lied down on the couch.
Eventually, we got everything together, loaded up the car, circled the block and drove to my mom’s house where Jason and Dan were required to hang a massive mirror for my mother.
Then we all got into our respective cars, gassed up and drove two more hours west to my brother’s house. He was, after all, the entire reason why we had driven out to Kentucky in the first place. We got to his house around 2pm, central time, and Josh and Bronwen met each other for the first time.
It was wonderful to see my brother. After a year in the desert of working out and no drinking, he is very cut. He looks amazing. Unfortunately, Heidi (his wife) had pneumonia, so she stayed in bed most of the time.
Piper, Aiden (my nephew) and Bronwen played all day. We swung on the swings and fed the horses (one of the horses bit Dan), and we rode the four-wheeler all over. The kids collected dried corn out of the corn field; we got to be country mice for the day, and it was really relaxing.
Josh told me about Iraq. He only fired his weapon once the whole year, it was warning shot. I saw pictures. They were exactly what my imagination had devised; dusty, hot, and beige. He told me about the time when he was working on the computer and a mortar was dropped in front of the office and blew out all of the windows. He smiled when he said that he kept a piece of shrapnel as a souvenir. Overall, he looked great and seemed really well adjusted. I cried when we left them to head east, back to Lexington.
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