Think Kit Day 22: Art

Think Kit topic day 22:  Plan, outline, or mind-map a project you want to tackle in 2014. 

I tried to use an online mindmapping tool to do this Think Kit topic, got really ticked off and said "screw it! I'm using a life line." And I am soooooo glad I did!

Smallbox LIFELINE: Was there an art experience that stood out this year? What did it look/feel/sound like? What other reactions did you notice?

For this to make sense, I need to give some background. I have no artistic ability whatsoever. I can't draw or paint or anything that most people consider "art"- no throwing pottery or sketching.

I love art, though. I think the thing I remember most of about junior high was the entire 9 weeks we spend on art history in our art class. I got an A; it was the only A I earned in art on my own or that wasn't given in pity 9or because of cheating- but that's a whole other blog post!) The rest of the class was bored out of their collective minds and I think my teacher was too because I distinctly remember his monotone. Every day we would come to class and he would dim the lights and show a slide after another after another. We had to write down the artist's name, time period he was alive, type of art style and medium used, influences, country of origin and the name of a famous piece of art she created. We also had to draw or in some way describe the art. I was mesmerized. I copied every bit of information eagerly and I could describe each painting in WORDS. I still remember tons of that information today.

My teen girl bedroom walls were dotted with several Degas ballerina posters after that.

Fast forward to the year I was able to work in my Master's degree (that I still do not have). It was taking liberal arts courses and one class was about folk art, which I had no idea was an art form. And part of that was the class, too- is folk art actually 'art'? I became completely enamored in the idea  of folk art, which is often considered women's art so it's not really art, especially that of quilting. I wrote an entire thesis on this topic, complete with a 30 minute presentation of my paper.

When I moved into my first post-divorce/ post CanadaSam house, I hung Impressionist prints on my walls and a huge Georgia O'Keeffe because I liked the colors. I had Impressionist after Impressionist calendars on office walls, or printed Monet on a mousepad or van Gogh post-it notes or Renoir note cards.

If I had just had scads of loose money laying about, I'd go back to college to get a BA in art history because I love the knowledge of art.

Obviously, I have a thing about art. And I swear if you keep meandering along with me here, I'll get to how this relates to 2013... but hey, this whole think kit thing is about introspection and self -reflection so... *ahem* but I digress.

In 2006 I went to the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. It was the first time I've gone to an art museum as an adult. (the summer I spend in NYC after high school graduation didn't count at me going as an 'adult' even though I was 18. I didn't appreciate the experience at the time; I was just having a great time In the Big Apple- what did I know?) It was in February but unseasonably warm that time of year. I went alone. Long story as to why I was even in the city but I was. I had a day to myself and thought I's visit some museums- gee, such a novel approach when visiting the capital of our country, right?

I wandered around. I was awestruck the moment I walked in the door. I just sort of roamed room to room, my mouth agape. I would see a painting and think, "Is that real?" or "That's FAMOUS!" which seems really silly.  Then I came to the Impressionist wing.

I was breathless. I was speechless. I was numb and practically immobile. Because there, just mere inches from my fingertips were famous paintings I'd been fascinated with my whole life.RIGHT THERE! Actually PAINTED and TOUCHED and CREATED by van Gogh and Rembrandt and Degas and Renoir and Monet and all the rest. IN THE SAME ROOM. WITH ME! I couldn't help it. I cried. And not touching little, quaint tears, but sobbed and snotted. I had 2 guards ask me if I was okay and I'm trying to explain the overwhelming beauty to them, right there, in front of me. Me, just a small town girl from the Midwest in the same room with famous paintings that has survived wars and centuries and... well, at least they didn't kick me out of the museum but I think they were more worried about me than your average tourist. I was shaking and crying in awe over the beauty of it all, right there, for anyone to look at. I didn't have to be rich or famous or special. All I had to have was the curiosity to look. That was all. I was as equal as the millionaire or the homeless man and we could all look at the exact same painting of Monet's The Japanese Footbridge no matter who we were. I just can't seem to describe it to this day. It seems silly, I'm sure, but I was so overcome with the beauty of what I was seeing and all the reality and realness and who I was, the place and time... not many years after our nation mourned, and I was there. I still don't have words.

Now go to this year, to 2013. I discovered the IMA, or the Indianapolis Museum of Art. It's free to visit (except for the traveling special exhibits) and I'm broke so it started as a once rainy afternoon activity. Then it became a habit and a favorite haunt in the city.

First time I went, I roamed around, much like I did when I was at the NGA in DC. Then I came to the impressionist room and again, I was overcome with emotion. Again, Renior and Degas and van Gogh. This time in Indianapolis. In the Midwest. Again these artists who shaped my love of art, of the classics. I walked quietly through the gallery, tears rolling (this time no snot or scared guards) as I was overcome again with such beauty offered to one and all, equality for the curious, for the seeker.

IMA because my haunt this year since I spent a great deal of time in Indy. I found I would go several times a month, walk around and then save the Impressionists and European artists for last. I'd walk through, practically holding my breath, find a bench in front of of my favorite painting, Monet's Charring Cross Bridge, right beside a Degas sculpture. I'd sit there and stare at the works in front of me and daydream or think. Sometimes I'd write letters to friends. Once in awhile I'd read. I just wanted to "be" with the art. Make sure it was still there. Let it know I cared.

Maggie

(and I did have my own encounter with canvas and wine in 2013... but that's a post for later, too!)

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

...and here on my blog, of course.

I've never been to Vegas before but I think I'll have a chance to visit in March. And how might this little jaunt happen?

AlaskaSam is going to golf school there for a week of his vacation and since my stupid Spring Break doesn't coincide with his week there and I can't stay the entire week, I think I might be going for a long weekend, if we can figure out my schedule, hotel, plane tickets, and all that travel stuff. YES! Maybe Maybe Maybe!

He asked me if I want to come and blow on his dice. Since we'd actually be in Vegas and he likes to mildly gamble (can someone mildly gamble?) I think he really wants me to blow on his dice; it's not a metaphor. I don't think.

Is this a bad idea? Yup, probably. Do I care? Not right now.

Vegas is going to be warm. It's usually hot there, right? I mean isn't Vegas so hot that even the mob left there? Just a place with no snow for 72 hours has LOTS of appeal.

Okay, a 72 hours with AlaskaSam isn't horrid. Nice hotel, he'll take me to do things and see things. We'll eat well and dance. We'll spend...time together. And for those of you who remember the last time I saw him four years ago and how it ended with me moving alone to the Wild West... well, this is different. I'm going into this with my eyes wide open, emotionally stronger, and all the other metaphors I can think of to make me know this is going to be fun, just plain old F*U*N, damn it!

Hey, it's Vegas- come'on, VEGAS, baby! If there is a place I need to experience in this life, it's gotta be Vegas. Elvis, gambling, glitz, glamor, sparkles and something loud and overdone and a city that never sleeps. Oh yeah!

I want to see all the cool hotels and the strip. It just sounds nice to get the hell outta Dodge for awhile. And it's AlaskaSam. I gotta go if it all works out. I just have to.

If it doesn't work out, then no harm, no foul.

Born to play in Sin City,
Maggie

On another note...

Travel meme

1. What is your dream destination?
England or most of western Europe

2. Who is your favorite travel buddy?
Myself (well, I usually travel alone so that makes sense, but I have no problems in traveling with other people, I guess.)

3. Where is the last place on Earth you would want to visit?
The Middle East- to much unrest and too war torn and ravaged

4. How many countries have you visited?
Four- Canada, USA, Ireland, Italy

5. How many Continents have you visited?
2- North America and Europe

6. Favorite State in the US?
Massachusetts- since I adore Boston. But I haven't visited all the states yet so that could still change

7. How many states have you visited?
32

8. Beach, mountains, woods or city?
City

9. City or Country?
I like being in the country- and wouldn't mind living in the country again- as long as I'm near a city.

10. Do you like Vegas?
I've never been but would love to go sometime. Though not in the summer- hell, it's so hot there that even the mob left...

11. Favorite historical landmark?
Feline's Basement.... or the Statue of Liberty (I canNOT believe in the Wild West three years and never saw Mt. Rushmore; I was an idiot! ) And I've always wanted to see the Hollywood sign (among many other things!)

12. Have you ever been on a cruise?
nope but again, I would love to do it!

13. Plane, boat or car?
I don't mind driving but if I want to get somewhere quickly, I'll hop a plane, even though I hate to fly

14. Best vacation memory?
I have several. I loved taking Mac to Disney World and to Boston the first time. I also liked when I went to Memphis and toured Graceland- the tackiest but one of the most fun places on earth! I love the fancy hotels I stayed in when I was in Quebec, too. And I went with a pack of GFs to The Big Easy and that was a blast- I don't think we were sober the entire time!

15. Worst Vacation memory?
I went to Hawaii and got sick. I think I was sicker than I ever have been in my life. I had to go to a Doc in the Box while there and had a HIGH fever and ear ache. So I got back on a plane and flew back to Civilization, which was 2 plane changes and about 12 hours in the air. And the landings about killed my ears; I cried like a baby. The flight from Honolulu to LAX wasn't so bad though, because it wasn't full so I laid across three seats in the back and the flight attendants were so nice to me. LAX to Detroit was okay; i slept most of the way but when I got to Detroit my gate for my next flight home was moved three times. At the second move, some woman who was an angel stuck me in a wheel chair and bitched out any Northwest ("Northworst") employee who would listen about making a sick woman move so much and then she pushed me to the next gate. So I finally get off the third flight in the Northern Civilization and my "friend" who was supposed to pick me up never showed. There I sat with a fever of 104, sore throat and an ear ache, hurting like hell and via cell phone I learn she's on a date and couldn't convince her date to come and get me. So I called another friend who picked me up and I crashed for 2 days in her guest room; she and her husband swore I was delirous and in a coma off and on. And I was in Hawaii for about a grand total of 50 hours.

Leavin' on a.... train

Well, after work today I'm off to the Windy City and to celebrate Farrago's birthday in style. We're gonna sing karaoke and maybe see a Sox game. The White verses the Red and both of us are Red fans so it should be interesting! And if the weather cooperates, he's taking me to walk on the beach (though he told me if it was cold he was staying in the car with the heater on. Chicken!). What a great guy!

And I'm takin' the train into the city this time, rather than drive. I can head to the train station, not even an hour away, and then go all the way to downtown Chicago, where Farrago- the ever so wonderful gentleman from IL, will pick me up at the train station! That way I don't have to walk, take a cab, take a bus, and the 'El then his car to get to him. And I can park my car for free at the train station. I might even have a few new pictures to post on my travel blog! Sounds like a wonderful plan all the way around, ya know?

With the holiday weekend, I just so did not want to fight the traffic, so I'm excited at the prospect of sitting quietly for 3 hours, reading and listening to my music and watching the world pass me by.

So, ya'll, I'll catch ya on the flip side of the holiday weekend with tales to tell!

Kisses to you all and have a Cosmo weekend!
Maggie

Maggie O'Sullivan, traveling

Remember when I went to Ireland earlier this year and I had a blog where I posted my pictures? I called it "Across the Pond"? Well, the vision for that blog sort of went by the way side with the relationship and I killed the blog as the grand finale to the dead relationship with AIISam.

Well, I've resurrected it with a new name, stealing a concept from Capote and my Holly Golightly. I now have a blog with nothing but pictures of my travels of 2009. It's called "Maggie O'Sullivan, traveling".

If you feel like looking at it, I'd be much obliged!

Whoopin' it up in the Windy City (Chicago Part 3- the end)

I know, I've been such a slacker this last week- and I didn't even post yesterday; I feel like such a rebel and a rule breaker for that. And I still haven't told the ending to the Chicago trip--Okay, to finally wrap up the last of the Windy City details-- does anyone remember I went there last weekend and promised details? Yeah. I didn't think so.

Other than hanging with the most cool Farrago, whom I have dubbed the Host with Most, and having a great time singing karaoke with some ultra-fun folks, I have very scant details left of my adventures in the Windy City. I also know I've missed being in a city and I think living and working in Chicago would be GREAT. I love the sky line, the crowds, the stuff to do, the tourist sights, the river right down the centre of town, the Miracle Mile, the places to eat. I LOVE it all!

I did have a Strangers on the Train moment, only I was on a bus and we didn't plot to kill each others' respective spouses... Anyway, Farrago and I were riding the bus and I'm looking at the people and just watching the world go by. I had spent the day walking around the city so it was nice to just sit and relax a spell. I snagged a seat, and Farrago parked his keister next to me, and there was a handsome gentleman sitting near me who kept smiling at me. I smiled back. There he smiled again. And I returned the smile. This went on for several blocks and he mouthed "hello beautiful" at me and I smiled and mouthed "hello" back. Then he inclined his head toward Farrago and gave me a questioning look. I had totally forgotten I was with Farrago and that could be construed as having him as partner/ BF/ mate/ romantic something or other. I must have made a funny face as I vehemently shook my head no because he laughed aloud and winked. Then we continued to smile at each other. Finally, we hit our stop and I followed Farrago off the bus and the man grabbed my hand and squeezed and said "goodbye" and I waved at him as we left. Now how cool was that?

Until I heard Farrago accusing me of ruining his mojo. Apparently he was making hot and heavy eye contact with the young buxom Blondie on the bus and when she gave him pointed eye contact about me and he shook it off, she ignored him. So we had simultaneous flirtations on the bus. Though Farrago did ask me a pointed question after our dis-embarkation: if he hadn't been there, what would I have done, or more to the point, other than flirty eye contact, what would've happened? I told him that I personally would've stayed on the bus a few more stops, got a name a number for coffee, and enjoyed the walk back to my destination knowing I might have a date. Ummm... he wasn't as optimistic- he would've just gotten off the bus and kicked himself- I offered to kick him but he said no. Ah, different strokes for different folks.

We also visited Chinatown. I was just a little disappointed because it was such a small area of the city, only a few blocks. I thought it would be bigger like in San Fran or NYC. The food looked great and had we went at a different time of day, Chinese food would've been dinner, for sure! It was still pretty neat to see, and I loved going in the bakeries which had Chinese pastries as well European style yummies. I managed to stay strong and not get baked goods (Farrago's doing this diet and he was setting a good example) but I did splurge and get a mango smoothie, that was to die for. There was none of that shitty artificial mango flavored powdery shit, but real, fresh mango and milk and just all natural goodness. BONUS!

We also hit Navy Pier. There were tons of people out on the boardwalk, enjoying the beautiful weather. And it was the end of Marine week. I wish I would've known it was Marine week because I would've done my part for my country and created a one woman USO- okay, okay... it was still nice eye candy. And the skyline from that area of the city is brilliant. I also love being near any large body of water so it felt free and refreshing. It was surely summer there- boats on the water, smell of sea water and cotton candy, the Ferris wheel slowly turning-- it was grand!

My mojo was also working a little bit that weekend, which shocked Farrago. While he doesn't find me beautiful, gorgeous, sexy and simply irresistible (that's okay, because he's not my type either!), he seemed SHOCKED that other men did seem to find me at least mildly attractive (see Farrago, some guys like smart sassy women with junk in the trunk!)-- to the point where I had the cutie-patootie KJ flirting like mad and possibly offering me a threesome with he and his wife, the Les Nessman look alike offering to take me to dinner sometime, and KaraokeSam asking for my number and inviting me to leave the Karaoke party with HIM to go out to 2 other karaoke bars then to breakfast and he said he would make sure I got back to Farrago's place. Add the hottie on the bus and well- I felt like I was Ms America or something... All the male attention was nice, especially since I've been a bit down after the AIISam situation.

Other than the crazy guy who had an entire conversation with his hand on the bus- that's not a euphemism for masturbation; he was really speaking to his hand, we also had a brief walk near the river (In 2010 I am going to be in Chicago on St Paddy's Day to watch the river get turned green and drink green beer and kiss Irish American men, especially police or fire men. Hey, I was in Dublin for the holiday so I might as well do it up right here in the States, too!) , a trek down Michigan with every tourist in the city, and a trip to my Tiffany and Co., which was closed and I wanted to cry- wahhhhhhhhhh- (And had it not been so far from Farrago's place or a bitch to park near, I totally would've had breakfast there on Sunday morning! Ah, next time!) it was a wonderful weekend, and I had gobs of fun! Can't wait to go back. Next time I think Mac goes along- now, that should be interesting... or scary or both.

So many many thanks to Farrago for being a good guy, a fun friend, and a wonderful host. Can't wait to see you again, buddy! (And remember, you're always welcome here in Civilization. We can... go to the city park or the community pool!) See you in the city soon!

(And thanks to Farrago for being my personal photographer all weekend too- all photo credits are his, except this one! And click here to hear his version of the weekend!)

City girl to the core,
Maggie

The Host with the Most (Chicago Part 1)

Farrago is a great guy. As many of you might remember that he and I met as bloggers and then when he went on his trip to the western part of the USA last summer he stopped in the Wild West to see me for a few days. And being the gracious guy he is, he bounced the invitation back to me to visit him if I got back his way, in Chicago. And he so graciously followed through on that, and let me be a bum at his place last weekend.

Not only did he stock my favorite tequila, he also fixed a fuckin' AWESOME steak dinner- and put up with me teasing him incessantly about his grilling procedures. But the joke was on me because the man fixed a kick ass steak and tater- I bow to his grilling prowess!

He is also full of great stories, and is an interesting guy in general. We seemed to talk non-stop- and I learned tons about his family; the man has a book there, I swear! Being the youngest of 7 kids, there's a story! (And I have to say he showed me pictures of his daddy when he was in The War and his pops was a HOTTIE-BO-DOTTIE!!!!) and I wasn't sure if there was anyone who could out talk me, but... if he can't, then we're tied. (And Farrago, I get to wear the crown of talking glory, thankee)

And did I forget to mention he took me to IKEA? And he LIKED it? And didn't bitch at me as I wandered around, fixating on pink stuff- which Farrago didn't hesitate in pointing out to me! There wasn't very much- only EVERY-thing. But his own fixation was with French Press Coffee Makers. Though I have to admit, those fuckers were all over the store, even in the children's section and in the garbage bag section, and the couch section... did I mention everywhere? And for some reason, Farrago was a fan, even though he owned one that he paid like a million dollars for and these were made by poor Indian kids and sold to Americans for $9.99, or something.

He even took me to a Starbucks near his house after his strong coffee made me grow chest hair... and he didn't harass me about my Starbucks addiction. He even took me to the Starbucks Anonymous meeting... er, no he didn't, cuz it's supposed to be anonymous. I was really the only one there. There is also a super kick ass produce market near his house, where he just sort of turned me loose and took great enjoyment of my speechlessness (and his ears could finally rest) as I stood before 178 kinds of oranges, simply agog at the choices. Um, it was a GREAT market and colorful and FUN! Yeah, I know, I'm amazed at fruit. I need to get out of town more.

Finally, Farrago's title of the Host with the Most was continued to be earned when he fixed me breakfast on Saturday morning- eggs, bacon and toast, NOT a bowl of cereal. He took me into Chicago and was willing to go anywhere I wanted, as he kept telling me it was my weekend- and was an excellent tour guide getting us to and from Navy Pier to Chinatown and never lost at all. He spoiled me with a treat at gourmet Vosges Chocolates- I ate chocolate with violets in it, and lavender. Oh YUM! I swear! He introduced me to some super people at a karaoke event (more on that in a later post)

Farrago the Super also slept on the couch and let me crash in his bed!

Awesome guy, so much fun, great conversation, good times, lots of laughs, the pun master! Thanks Farrago! You Rock!

A Forever Farrago Fan,
Mags

an aside: he even said I could come back and bring Mac!!!! I'm giving him a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with it...!

Trip teaser

Your world weary traveler is home from her newest adventure and the key word is... weary. (Apparently so weary it caused me to refer to myself in third person.) Since I stayed up late, played hard, walked more than I have in 6 weeks and drove in Chicago traffic twice in 48 hours, I am tired, tired, tired... So, I promise a trip recap that involves karaoke with Farrago, my "moment" on the bus with a stranger, Farrago's moment on a bus with a stranger, the highlights, the lowlights, how I surprised Farrago not once but twice, city weirdos (other than Farrago and me), meeting men, and commentary on Farrago who is the Host with Most...

Blown in from the windy city,
Mags

Roadies!

I'm excited because I have a few road trips coming up! I know I went to Ireland and Italy this spring, but other than that, which was strange in and of its self, I really haven't made plans to do stuff.

So I am super excited to be heading up to Chicago this coming weekend! Farrago, that awesome blogger buddy, came to visit me last summer when I lived in the Wild West- he was traveling the northwest part of the states and I was able to be a stop on his route. We had a great time (okay at least I had a great time- I don't want to put words in his mouth but he seemed to have a good time). And since I moved back to Civilization I now am a mere 3 hour car drive from Farrago so we're going to get together and hang out.

I adore the city of Chicago so the fact that I get to hand with a cool guy and in my favorite city makes me do the happy dance! We have plans to hang out in the city, maybe see Chinatown or Beverly, maybe hit Navy Pier or take in a Cubs game. We've bounced some ideas around, but to me it doesn't matter what we do- I'm just excited to have plans to do some fun stuff with a cool friend. One thing we are doing for sure is to go to a karaoke party. OMG- he has no idea what he's in for with me singing... he did offer to give me a bottle of tequila... maybe he DOES know what's up? Okay, who told him? Anyway, I am soooooo, looking forward to this!

Memorial Day weekend also brings a road trip, in addition to the World's Largest Rummage Sale. My cousin who lived in DC for the last 30 years moved back here to southern Civilization when she retired and is having a HUGE BBQ at her place. Mac and I are heading down for the day to see some family and to meet their friends. Should be a good day, good food, good company... and I'm really looking forward to it!

I'll let you know how both trips turn out!

Wish you were here or hell, wish I were there,
Mags

I love hotels

I really do love hotels. I love to stay in hotels, especially the nice ones. Who doesn't, I know?

Now what brought this on, you may ask? Well, I looked at the calendar and if AII Sam and I had not split up (see, I said split up rather than saying "he dumped me") I would be in Zurich, Switzerland right this very minute, staying in a Hilton or in a Marriott, with privileges to go to the executive dining room, celebrating his birthday which was yesterday. Last week I would've been at his flat in Dublin and next week I would be in... Amsterdam or Paris- also in fab hotels. ::Ahem:: And in reality I'm hanging out here at my Daddy-O's house, cleaning the garage in preparation for the World's Largest Rummage Sale in 2 weeks and tolerating the never ending rain- maybe instead of cleaning the garage I should be building an ark.

So the snide feelings about fact that I should be relaxing in Zurich, in freaking Switzerland, aside, I still love, love, love hotels.

Now I've stayed in some pretty scary motels. When I was driving to the Wild West and I stayed over I was in a pretty scary motel. I got myself in a town with no "name" hotels and had to take a chance on a locally owned place. It was kinda gross. I wore flip-flops in the shower because it was creepy otherwise. Many years ago when I was dating CanadianSam we stayed in a dive in Memphis, TN. The Holiday Inn was under construction and we were in an unusual part of downtown... the room was about the size of about 3 normal sized rooms but the ceiling was so low, Sam had to duck or he would whack his head on it. The bed sagged in the center, there was a a leak in the ceiling in the bathroom, and mold on the sink fixtures. Needless to say, it was a pretty nasty place.

There was a time I stayed in a cheesy 1970's hotel, as I like to think of it. Lots of oranges and browns, shag carpet, tacky paintings, everything bolted to the wall, floor or furniture. The bathroom floor tile was orange and brown. The sink and tub were avocado green while the toilet was white. It stood out like a sore thumb. And the pool area was hilarious- it had murals painted of mermaids and "Atlantis" like scenes on the walls. And Algae growing in the pool water!

We stayed here for about 2 hours- when the cockroaches ran across the the shag carpet and then when the curtains fell from the window, we left. Immediately. This was somewhere in Maine.

My frustrating experience was when I was outside of Minneapolis, MN. I was driving in a huge series of storms. It was the middle of the night and the power was out over most of the state. I was trying to find an exit with a hotel, but in the middle of the night, in the middle of a thunder storm with no power anywhere on the interstate it was easier said than done. I had my mom on the phone looking at places on the Internet trying to tell me at least an exit number since I couldn't even see signs. And the radio was telling people to get off the road and to not pull over since it would be dangerous in the dark storm. Anyway, I found a hotel- a Courtyard by Marriott. I get there about 2am and the power is out. I make my way to the door with my flashlight and they let me in, charged me $101 bucks for the night, even though there was no power in the hotel. I wasn't sure I thought that was fair but it was desperate.

Other than these scary experiences, I have loved staying in hotels. I love the nice hotels the best- well, duh- who doesn't? Oh, I've seen the 48 Hours type of exposes about the nasties of hotel bed spreads and the like, but I don't care. I just really love hotels.

I don't have to do anything. Someone cleans up after me. I sleep and shower and when I come back, the bed is made, the room is cleaned, and there are fresh towels left, along with chocolates on the pillows. I love the Hilton, the Weston and the Marriott the most because I love the bedding. The huge fluffy pillows, the duvet, the crisp fresh sheets.

At these hotels they have Bath and Body Works, or Crabtree and Evelyn products. I love the fluffy towels and full mini bars. I love that nothing is bolted to the floor or wall. I adore that they bring room service on a rolling cart with silver covers on the food. I love the fresh flowers in my room. I think it's fun to have a safe in my room, even though I never have anything worth locking up! (When I was in Milan Sam and I did lock our passports up, though.) Really, I know it all sounds so silly, but I like it all. Amenities- I just love amenities!

And I try and be a nice guest. Even though I have the ability to have room service and maid service, I don't want to be a total slob. I always pile my towels all together in a pile on the bathroom floor. I throw away the wet soaps and wrappers. I try and throw away all my trash, and pull the covers up on the bed. Who wants to come in and clean up after a total and complete slob? I mean, really?

Now these days, almost anyone can have the experience of staying at nice Black Diamond rated hotels with the ability to use priceline.com or other web sites that let a person pay a low price for these visits. And even if you don't stay at an expensive hotel like these, you can still have a nice hotel experience at Holiday Inn Express or Courtyard By Marriott. The hotel industry seems to have realized that it doesn't matter how poor travelers are but they need and deserve a nice place to stay. I like that lots of places let travelers upgrade rooms if they have kids, or offer free meals to people traveling with children.

I also think staying in hotels in big cities is the best because of the accessibility of everything . I love the concierge. I would love to be the concierge at a fancy hotel- how in the world do you land that gig?

One time when I was in Quebec I stayed at a small, very fine hotel, very exclusive place- George Clooney was staying there at the same time I was! It was nice, with people calling me by name, stocking the mini bar with my favorite beverage choices and snacks, and just giving some personal touches.

And I've never stayed in a B and B or a hostel, but I would like to try both at some point. And as I contemplate a possible 30 day stay around Italy (depending on a grant i applied for) this summer I'm thinking of the hotels I won't be able to afford. But I might try couch surfing (check out the concept online, just google it) and that could be something I add to my travel experiences. Who knows?

So, even though I'm not lolly gagging about in one of Europe's premiere cities, celebrating Sam's birthday, and staying in some of the best and most posh hotels around, I can still anticipate the next trip I take and the next time I can be pampered in a hotel.

Could I have a wake up call, please?
Mags

Can we say Jet Lag?

Keep watching here and over at Across the Pond. Updates coming here soon, and I'll keep posting pictures of my trip daily until I run out-- even after I'm back!

Your tired cookie,
Mags

Going out for supper...

Ever since Sam and I met in Pittsburgh, he's promised to take me out for Italian food for supper. While we were in Pitt it never happened. And since I've been in Dublin we've had Chinese, Indian, seafood, pizza, and some American- still no Italian food and I was teasing him about the omission.

Sam came home and told me he would take me out for Italian food this weekend. And I could have it as many times as I wanted because he was taking me out for supper in Milan!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!! He and I are going to Italy!!!!!!!!!!!!! The country!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For the entire weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We leave this afternoon and get home around midnight on Monday. Then I'm going to spend St. Patrick's Day in Dublin and fly back to the states on Wednesday.

Oh. My. Goddess. Italy. For supper. Milan. Can we say Dolce and Gabbana? Versace?

I mean, he comes home from work and says we're having Italian food for dinner- in Milan, Italy.

Okay, that being said... I really really don't think I'll be posting here or on Across the Pond for several days. I might, but I have no idea.... Italy...

Arrivederci,
Maggie

Emerald Isle- here I come!

I leave for Ireland today!!!!!!!!!

My bags are packed, laundry is done, everything ready to go... except vacation blog posts. I know if I were a good blogger I would've had 10 days of stuff written and ready to post while I was gone- fat chance of that happening! I'm so sorry, so everything was ready but that! (there are a few posts that I like to think of as mini advertisements that will post off and on...)

So, today Guard is taking me to the airport- I even get bonding time with him- how cool is that?

Now I have no idea when I'll be posting again. I'm going to try and do it every few days, but just in case I don't, I'll miss you all! And just in case I can't write about it, I have a new spot to toss some pictures up as I can! Check out my travel blog: "Across the Pond". And can't wait to share my trip. I canNOT wait to see Sam, to see Ireland, to get my first passport stamp, to do... everything possible!

I'll be back as soon as I can, at the latest March 18th!

See you from across the Pond,
Maggie

IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE!!!!!!!!

Hey guess what? My passport is here. I feel the love for everyone!! Whoot whoot! I've been happy dancing all day looooooooooooong!

I called and told AmericaninIreland Sam and he had my flight booked within minutes. I leave on March 5 and come back on March 15- maybe. And why is that return date a maybe? BeCAUSE Sam wants to take be on a special surprise side trip! It that comes to fruition I'd be back to Civilization on March 18. The side trip possibilities are anywhere in Italy, Vienna, London, Amsterdam or Paris. I.CAN'T. HARDLY. WAIT. No one is going to be able to stand me for 2 weeks.

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Soon to be world traveler,
Maggie

I've lost that lovin' feelin'

I finally learned that my passport was mailed on Tuesday, from New Orleans. Then yesterday it was in Memphis, TN. For some reason today it was in Arkansas. My passport is taking its own vacation apparently.

Yesterday when I learned where it was, I figured my passport was flying Northwest Airlines (those of you who travel often will understand this reference) because that seems to be the right route. I thought it it would actually be here, say... TODAY. I found the tracking number and followed it online via USPS. When I got home from school on my lunch hour, which I purposely left for so I could get the passport, it wasn't there. After sending Sam a text message using every swear word I know and cursing the following: (and I quote) "I hate the USPS, the passport office, the State Department, Northwest Airlines, and Hillary," I decided to track it down. So, based on what I learned, I guess it should be here tomorrow. I'm thinking "yeah, right. I'll believe it when I see it."

I missed meeting Sam in Amsterdam on Saturday with this delay. And his business trip to Amsterdam was extended to Brussels, Belgium, Luxembourg and France. I'm missing ALL of those because my passport didn't arrive yesterday or today. I would say "not happy" describes me. As of now, it looks like I'll be in Dublin and visit some of the countryside and I'm taking an overnight into Scotland via the ferry. Unless any of you rich readers want to send me large amounts of cash so I can go into London!

He's reserved my ticket for Thursday March 5, 2009 with a 24 hour hold so if I get my passport tomorrow he'll book me immediately. Here's hoping, so please cross your fingers, do a happy dance, pray to whatever god or goddess that ails ya, chant, swear in Hebrew, whatever- that I will please get my passport on Friday!!!

And when I started thinking about it, between Tuesday when it was posted and tomorrow, I could've driven to New Orleans, picked up the passport in person, had a hurricane or 2 or 7 at Paddy O's, performed at the Cat's Meow, earned some beads, and have been back by the time my mail runs tomorrow!!!!

Singin' the passport blues,
Maggie

The State Department isn't feeling the love apparently

I think Hilary Clinton is the anti-Cupid. I still have no passport!!!!

I cannot find my status on their website any more, either. I've called and asked about it with no answers that are useful.

Sam has called every Washington contact he has and no one can touch my passport application which is somewhere in the Philly office.

And I was supposed to leave on Friday... guess that's not gonna happen. AND I'm missing a holiday with him in Amsterdam. He's still going, and I don't blame him. It's part pleasure and part business. I'm jealous and just sick about it; this sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pissy pink,
Mags

Sam's Revenge

Sam and I talk on the phone every day. For hours and hours usually...

And before you all think the prices are crazy for international calls, he's lucky because he has an American cell phone still so we use that- no worries!

But the time difference is a really bitch- it's 5 hours- him being 5 hours ahead of me, I should say. So when he's settled in for the night and nearing bedtime, it's only 6 or 7 pm here. He's also very much a night owl and hates to sleep, a true insomniac if I ever met one (he puts me to shame there) so he often calls a bit later in the evening, closer to 1 am his time, 8 pm mine. And then we always end up talking for a few hours... There have been times in the last few weeks when he's gone to sleep near sunup.

He said there were many mornings of late when he's awoke cursing my name... hmmmmm! I don't want him cursing my name!

This is not entirely my fault, but we did decide he had to straighten out his sleeping habits. I always know when he's near the end of a conversation because he babbles in French and Spanish, sings songs from musicals or talks about puffins... ah, the ramblings and musings of the sleep deprived! Anyway, but the sleeping habits were not to be straightened out over this past weekend. Oh no!

Since Sam went to visit friends in Northern England since he was stranded in the country for the weekend, he had the pleasure of attending a costume stag and doe (British version of a bachelor and bachelorette costume party combo) and a birthday party two nights in a row. So Friday night he leaves me a message early in the day and tells me he isn't sure he'll have cell service, not sure of the plans, blah blah blah and he didn't know if he would call. BUT he called me at 3 am his time when he got home from the 70s club. And he was quite pissed- in the British way, not the American way: he was DRUNK. He drunk dialed me and I promise to let him live it down. And we ended up chatting for about 3 hours and he saw the sun come up and then went to bed, promptly. (Hmmmmm, Vampire? maybe- he has to have a fatal flaw; all men do and I haven't found his... YET!) But before signing off he said he wouldn't be calling on Saturday because it was going to be insane. Uh-huh.

On Saturday night at 11 pm EST I was in bed ready to fall asleep and thought he was actually right for once and he hasn't called. I hoped he was having a good time (okay, not too good) and I figured I'd hear all about it on Sunday night when he phoned from, hopefully, Ireland.

However, Sam decided that these last several weeks of late night phone calls for him were to be avenged. He called me when he got home from the party/clubbing. It was 6am his time and 1 am EST. I was sound asleep. And I guess when I first answered I told him I couldn't make bail... then I became more fully awake and stopped dreaming (no idea what I was dreaming that would have to do with bail...) and we talked for about 3 hours!!!

I will admit that I did fall back asleep pretty quickly but when I woke up at 10am it was my turn to curse his name. But it wasn't that bad. At least I didn't have to go to work like he usually does when this nonsense occurs.

We decided we both hate "the Pond" and life would be much simpler if we were in the same... oh say, continent! country! time zone! city! room! And... well, you get the picture!

Your sleepy
Maggie

an aside: At the time of the writing of this post his plane was scheduled to depart New Castle, England on time!

Stranded in England

This isn't my story but I'm sharing it anyway because it just cracks me up.

AmericninIreland Sam had a business trip. He left Dublin Tuesday night and stayed in a hotel outside of London. Wednesday morning he gave a presentation to a company in London. Then he needed to go to Leeds, England and was going to take a flight from Leeds back to Dublin on Wednesday night.

He has taken just about every form of transportation available- he was on planes, trains, in taxis, a bus, and the Tube.

Wednesday night his flight to Dublin was canceled so he took a cab to Manchester, England and spend the night, figuring he would get a flight the next day. But it snowed in Ireland again, thus shutting down the airport. So come Thursday he was still stranded.

We talked last night and he was kicking himself for not getting on the ferry. But he figured he would just fly out today. We've laughed about the misadventure because 2 days in a row he was off to the airport only to sit for hours and hours and then to be told his flight was canceled.

Well, today was going to be the day! He went to Manchester to catch his flight and... it was canceled. Busy runways, busy air space and more bad weather. Guess who is still stuck somewhere in England? It's a 40 minute flight for him to get home. That's it.

And he can't get the ferry tonight either... So, thankfully some of his friends have a "country place" in northern England and it's Friday, so Sam being Sam, said "fuck it" and hopped on a three hour train ride to see his friends at their country home for the weekend.

He called to tell me his tale of woe today and as he stood there in the Manchester, England airport he started pricing tickets to come to the States to see me- since he can't get out of England and back to Ireland, he thought the odds of getting here were good. Only the ticket into Chicago was just $1723, 20- he would be landing NOW if he bought that on the spur of the moment, but he wanted to know if I would contribute the $23.20. I said sure! The closest he could get at the cheapest price was NYC for about $1100. So... did I mention he was going to stay with friends after a three hour train ride in northern England?

Oh, and Sam only brought the one change of clothes in a carry on bag. His travel clothes he had on Tuesday and his suit for Wednesday- he went shopping as well... poor baby!

Then he goes on to tell me that things like this always happen to him when he travels- maybe it's better than I'm meeting him in Europe somewhere? Though at this rate, I'll arrive in Dublin before he will. I said as much and he told me he would call the landlord to let me in his flat and would I mind so much washing up the dishes and doing a tidy?

I wish I was trapped in England,
Maggie

Ugly Americans

The term Ugly American has nothing to do with how rude Americans are when they go abroad, I've decided. It may have first originated as a book title and then later became a film starring Brando, it might be appropriately used to describe John McEnroe or Bode Miller's behaviors, or even used because of American refusal to adopt the metric system. These things are most certainly ugly and deal directly with Americans, but this is not the real reason for the phrase. It's nothing to do with Americans being rude, expecting everyone world wide to speak English, to complaining about food and customs, being ignorant and un-accepting of the ways of other cultures in which we are guests- nope, the term Ugly American just had to be coined because of Passport Pictures. That's it! Passport pictures are the true meaning of Ugly American.

Since my time in Pittsburgh with AmericaninIreland Sam, he has urged me to get a passport, even at his expense so I can come visit his adopted home- and visit as soon as possible I might add. So, I have gone through the Passport application process this week and just now await for mine to come in the mail- which seems to be rather speedy right now, taking only 2-3 weeks if there's no trouble, but the applicant should allow 8 weeks. And 2 weeks seems to be true, according to the US State Department web site, and my local court house clerk.

But passport pictures are very very ugly. We are not allowed to smile. The picture must clearly show eyes and facial features. The background must be white. The photo must be 2x2, head shot. We must look miserable in these pictures, unhappy, even angry or put out. I think my picture is terrible! I went to my local Walgreens to have the picture taken and when she told me to NOT smile I couldn't stop. We attempted taking the picture several times, before one was generated where I looked miserable and unhappy enough to declare it a "perfect passport pictures!"

Why should American looks miserable or even criminal in these pictures? Mine is most certainly no better than a mug shot. And I don't want to spend any time in a European prison, thank you very much? Why instigate such thoughts into the subconscious of the customs agents- they see these pictures where we look like a gang of thieves, then no wonder we are so mistrusted and thought of as ugly!

Now I don't know about you, but at the thought of traveling abroad makes me smile and jump up and down. I canNOT wait. I'm excited beyond belief and control. I'm happy as a lark- so wouldn't it be a nicer show of international friendship if we all were smiling at the thought of traveling abroad? Wouldn't a smile traverse all ill will? Turn that frown upside down for freedom?

Or am I just smiling because of Sam?

Your Smiling girl,
Maggie