Hoop It Up! Soup It Up!

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

In the past five weeks, I have been in Houston, Texas; New York City, NY; Budapest, Hungary; Paris, France; Tampa, Florida and Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina.  It has been a lot of fun, but also incredibly tiring.  I have hundreds of pictures and stories, which hopefully will make it to my blog!  Oh procrastination!  

On Friday, I was groggily "awake" at 4:30 a.m. to get ready to be at the airport rental car drop off by 5:30 a.m. to catch a 7 a.m. flight back home to Tampa.  My freezer was filled with a lot of duty free chocolate and some kick ass dried pomelo from the Budapest Great Market Hall ... but my refrigerator was bare.  

I went to the grocery store and bought the ingredients for my lower fat, lower calorie version of a sausage, potato and kale Italian soup (made with a splash of evaporated skim milk instead of 2 cups of heavy cream).  It's a dish I make in the fall and winter.  Also this weekend I made a chicken tortilla soup and my (not to brag, but...) incredibly amazing homemade guacamole.

As I stood over a simmering vat of my sausage, kale and potato soup, I realized that I must be spiritually and physically drained because this is definitely one of my "soothing" comfort food recipes.  I feel like homemade soup in general is a type of medicinal comfort.  I also felt like I was reconnecting myself to my home.  After weeks of waking up in hotel rooms, not remembering what city or even what country I was in - I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.

In some perverse, masochistic turn of events, I had scheduled two days of volunteering for my first two full days back home.  WHY?  WHY?  I should have scheduled two days of laying on the couch catching up with my beloved friend, Mr. DVR and all my wonderful television shows.  But nooooo ... for some sick reason I decided to help others!  Ugh.  I seriously have a problem!

So this past Saturday, I spent eleven hours at the Healing in the Harbor event in Safety Harbor.  Lots of holistic wellness, acupuncture, massage, organic products, incense, big drums, crystals and all other sorts of "happy" products for sale.  Evolve at the Ashram of Clearwater (www.evolveclearwater.com) handed out these free Buddhas.

I know it may sound juvenile, but I had to have one!  One little girl who was maybe four years old, held up her Buddha and said "How do you like my baby?"  I replied: "Your baby is very spiritual" and then I showed her how to sit and hold her fingers like her "baby" Buddha.

I was helping my friend at her booth selling her home and body organic products and at the booth next to us was the mother-daughter and 5 month old son team selling "Healthy Hoops" - hula hoops in chakra colors.

Do you know what happens when you spend eleven hours in the hot Florida sun next to a Hula Hoop booth?  You become the proud owner of your very own Healthy Hoop.  Yes, I am 975 years old, single, have a household full of cats, a stuffed Buddha, vats of homemade soup... and now I am also a novice hula hooper.  

I don't know what else I can do to become more desirable to the public.  I'm pretty much beyond fabulous in every imaginable way.  

My hula hoop is cheetah print and purple - I am not sure which chakra color "cheetah print" is, but the hoop is huge, weighs three pounds and is all MINE.  

Evidently (or so I am told) the heavier the hula hoop, the easier it is for the beginner.  Three pounds is the heaviest hula hoop, Healthy Hoops sells.  Maybe I can find some "hula weights" to help weigh this puppy down because I am as about as novice as a novice can be!

So in the middle of the night when you wake up and think "What is Lily doing?"  (And I know you do that ALL THE TIME!)  Rest assured that I am in my living room, hula hooping while my cats watch and then I am eating soup.  

It is indeed the rockstar life here in Tampa, Florida!

The Healing in the Harbor event in Safety Harbor, Florida definitely had me thinking about the universe.  I had just finished a leadership seminar in Raleigh-Durham.  One of the activities was drawing an empathy map to put yourself in someone else's shoes.  

I thought this exercise had coincidental timing in my life, because I had recently written a blog post called "On Communication and Ego ..."  In it, I wrote about how people can minimize or devalue another person's feelings in a conversation.  

Well after I published the "On Communication and Ego" post about devaluing/minimizing a person's feelings, I received an email from someone who apologized for invalidating my feelings - but then went on to characterize the event that had caused major emotional pain as "a slight" and "a transgression."  

SERIOUSLY?  It's like saying "I'm sorry I invalidated your car accident injuries; oh by the way, how is your little boo boo doing?"

Maybe the person meant for the "apology" email to be sarcastic or passive-aggressive.  If so then BRAVO - mission accomplished, because using the word "invalidate" and then using minimizing words to describe what happened would then make sense if you were trying to be snide and shitty.   

A couple years ago, I had written a blog post about "pseudo apologies" - in this particular post, a guy who had dumped me in a horrifically shameful way and then gave me a crappy non-apology had karmically had explosive diarrhea food poisoning right afterward.  This post was called "Food Poisoning or Karma? The Suckitude of Pseudo Apologies."

A pseudo apology to me is like when someone says "I am sorry that you feel hurt" versus "I am sorry I hurt your feelings."  On the surface it sounds like an apology, but if you look closely there is no ownership or personal responsibility.  I wanted to take the email I received, circle the words "invalidate," "slight" and "transgression" and write: THIS IS A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF WHAT I HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT! 

But I didn't do that because frankly that horse has been beaten to death.  If you have to explain seventeen times why something hurts you and the person still doesn't get it; there's no reason to talk more about it.  Sometimes you just have to let go.  No need to prolong the drama, emotions or frustration.  I'd rather focus my energies on things and people who build me up.    

Sometimes it's just better to hula hoop and eat soup.  And I didn't intend for that to rhyme, but it's pretty darn cool that it did!

Happy Monday to you all!  

New Product Wednesdays: The Best Thing Since Sliced Cheese: Trader Joe's Slicing Brie Cheese

Happy New Product Wednesday, LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

Hopefully you are a regular reader who knows that on select Wednesdays, I post "New Product Wednesdays" product reviews on items that are new or at least new to me.

Today's New Product Wednesday is another Trader Joe's review, in honor of the new South Tampa Trader Joe's that opened in March 2014.

When I was a kid, I went to Europe with my high school French class.  For one week, we lived with a family in Aix-en-Provence.  It is amazing how close you can get to a host family in a week.  I was very sad to leave them, as were my classmates with their host families.  

(Side note:  If you're a normal, awesome American family - please volunteer to host Exchange students.  It means the world to kids!  I still, 8 billion years later, have fond memories of my one week with a host family.)  

Our next leg would be a long train ride that seemed like it took days to get to Geneva, Switzerland.  Unfortunately after the train journey, they put us directly on a two hour tour bus.  God forbid we stretch our legs!  We were only staying overnight in Switzerland and then flying back to the States the next day.  

After spending 902 hours on a train, a two hour "trapped in a bus" tour was not what any of us wanted.  Our tour guide knew we were leaving the next day, so with every monument she pointed out she said "If you ever get back here, you'll have to check this out."  It was six years before I returned to Geneva.  No tour buses for me for that trip!

After the long train ride and the tour bus ride, we were next deposited at some chateau-like place with basically every school group in the world.  We stood in line for what felt like seven months.  At the end of the line we were given one half-melty piece of cheese, 3 small boiled potatoes and a gherkin pickle (actually a cornichon but I was 13 years old and had no idea what a cornichon was!)  

After 30,247 hours trapped on mass transit, my schoolmates and I could not believe our dinner was a piece of cheese, 3 tiny potatoes and the tiniest pickle.

This, ladies and gentlemen, was my introduction to the Swiss traditional meal of raclette.

For those not already familiar, raclette is basically melty cheese.  Its origins supposedly came from some Swiss guy who left his big wheel of cheese too close to the fire.  He cut off the melty bits and ate it with meats, boiled potatoes and bread.  Voila - a food tradition was born.  Usually raclette is always served with boiled potatoes, cornichons and pickled baby onions.

Raclette differs from fondue in that you have melty slices of cheese versus a big pot of molten cheese. 

If you go on YouTube, there are several videos of happy Swiss and French students having raclette parties in their meager apartments.  I swear Europeans can make any simple meal look like the best party ever!

My family later lived in Zurich and had their own favorite raclette restaurant.  It was very good and each person received their own insulated mini sack of boiled potatoes for their raclette.  I personally cannot get enough of Swiss rosti (Swiss Hash Browns).  I don't think I ever met a potato I didn't love at first sight!   

Because I am addicted to buying kitchen gadgets that I then almost never use (I'm looking at you Hong Kong "Egg Waffle" Maker!), I purchased the Swissmar Swivel 8 Person Raclette Maker.  I have wanted a raclette maker for quite sometime now.

Could I put a frying pan on low and achieve the same melty cheese result?  Well yeah, probably.  But click here to see my beautiful raclette maker!  It has a cooking stone, a grill plate and eight raclette cheese trays for melting!  AND IT SWIVELS!  

Can you tell I am enamored by gadgets?  I needed a raclette maker so I could be the Tampa Bay raclette queen!  However now I needed some cheese!

Traditional "raclette cheese" is a semi-firm cow's milk cheese, that reminds me of a mild, soft Emmentaler.  You can order it online and many of the larger cheese shops carry it.  However Trader Joe's has a nifty raclette pack of pre-sliced raclette cheese that fits my raclette cheese melting trays perfectly.  No hassle, no fuss, simply easy!  I love Trader Joe's!

But for my dinner party, I knew not all of my guests would enjoy the flavor of the raclette cheese so I wanted to have a variety of cheeses they could melt.  After all this is Florida, not Switzerland - we're allowed to break some traditional raclette rules.  (Don't tell the Swiss that we melted an aged habanero cheddar - AND IT WAS TERRIFIC!  We also had boiled purple Peruvian potatoes - we're breaking all the rules here!)   

When I went to Trader Joe's to pick up the raclette - I noticed a rectangle of brie in the cheese section.  SQUARE BRIE?  What the heck?  Did I fall into bizarro world?  Brie is ROUND not in a rectangular block.  But then I realized square brie would fit my raclette melting trays … a-ha!  Perhaps there was genius in this odd shape, after all!

The brie was creamy, rich and mild and two rectangle slices fit perfectly in each of my raclette cheese melting trays.  It melted deliciously with the "skin" of the cheese helping it hold its shape.  I would definitely buy this brie again - both for eating regularly with fruit and crackers, as well as in my raclette maker. 

My dinner party was a HUGE success.  My friends had never heard of raclette and were eager to try "as long as it isn't something like haggis" they warned.

I will be having another raclette dinner party this summer so that I can say "see, I needed this expensive raclette maker - I have used it twice!"

(Confession:  To be even more ridiculous, not only did I buy the swivel-tastic raclette maker for 8, I bought the mini raclette maker for two for when I am just making raclette for myself or myself and a friend and I don't want to bust out the big raclette maker.  I am considering using the mini raclette maker as a seduction tool.  "Hey there, tall dark and handsome - do you want to come back to my place for some melty cheese?"  I'll be the talk of the town!)

To sum up - Trader Joe's Slicing Brie Cheese is delicious and in a versatile shape.  And I need to keep my credit card away from kitchen gadget stores.

What is your favorite cheese from Trader Joe's?  Mine is their Unexpected Cheddar.  Tell me your favorite in the comments section below.    

An Omnipotent Mind, A Rude Fur-Wearer, Lucky Guy and Courtney B Vance - A Day in New York City

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:

I'm still feeling blue about the passing of Roger Ebert (see my blog post "Goodbye and Thank You Roger Ebert" here).  I was very fortunate to spend my Thursday, April 4, 2013 evening at the Broadhurst Theatre seeing Tom Hanks in the very first week of his Broadway debut in Nora Ephron's "Lucky Guy."  But thinking about the loss of great writers Nora Ephron, Mike McAlary and now Roger Ebert, it's just a sad day.

I am in New York to see my Broadway shows, shop and as my pal Miss Brandy would say "eat my way through the city."  I go to NYC at least twice a year and when I was in management consulting, I was in NYC up to 12 times a year.  But until February 2012, I had never ventured off the island of Manhattan to truly see Brooklyn.  

(A walk across the Brooklyn Bridge where I then turned around doesn't count.  Neither does the time "Little Jen" and I got on the wrong train, ended up in Brooklyn and jumped on the first train headed back to Manhattan.)  

In February 2012, the magnetic pull of actor Kevin Spacey got me to cross over and see Brooklyn.  (Read about it here in:  "A Space in My Heart for Kevin Spacey and Charo - Part One" and "A Space in My Heart for Kevin Spacey and Charo - Part Two."

Now in April 2013, another magnetic force was pulling me back to Brooklyn - Williamsburg, to be exact.  The magnetic attraction of Southern cuisine.  I have had "Eat at Pies 'N Thighs" on my "Must Do" list for quite some time now.  But for this trip, I was ready to make it a reality!

I'll be writing about my lunch experience at Pies 'N Thighs in a future blog post, so stay tuned!  Before and after lunch, I window shopped around Williamsburg.  Seeing that it was 88 degrees when I left Tampa Bay for New York City, I had no idea what to pack.  I ditched my flip-flops for new boots I bought just for the NYC trip.  I had ordered them online and hadn't even tried them on.  I knew it was a risk, but I was willing to gamble with my feet.  (Do you hear my toes screaming "Say what now??") 

These boots were NOT made for walking!

After four miles of walking around Williamsburg (yes, I was wearing my Fitbit pedometer so that is an accurate measurement!), my right pinky toe was in horrific pain and I hadn't seen any taxis at all during my entire shopping afternoon.  Seriously, are there no cabs in Williamsburg?  Someone needs to warn a girl! 

Seeing that I am staying in Midtown East, there was no way I could walk all the way back without doing a battlefield amputation of several toes.  I started praying to Jesus to send me a taxi cab.  But Jesus wasn't amused.  I could distinctly heard a "Get your arse to church more often and then let's talk" whispered in the wind.  Sorry Jesus!

I kept hobbling down the sidewalks with my huge parka coat slowly roasting me as the sun beat down harder.  When I was in Portland, Maine in September 2012, I went to a psychic named Jackie Major (@MajorMeditation on Twitter).  Jackie told me something along the lines of we can use our minds to bend energy (or something like that) and make things happen.  She used the example of thinking really hard about wanting a parking spot close to the mall and then arriving at the mall and finding the first parking spot open. 

 (Hey Jackie, I'd do a better job of remembering what you said if you had sent me that recorded CD of our session that you were supposed to send me!  Not that I'm bitter or anything ...)

My aching right foot needed some energy bending, pronto.  I stopped walking, stood up straight and focused my brain on one thought "I will get a taxi - it will arrive very soon and it will not be occupied.  I will get a taxi NOW."  I started walking and less than 30 seconds later, a taxi appeared.  

HOLY COW!  Jackie Major's mind-bending energy thang really works!  My toes screamed "THANK YOU!" as I literally crawled into the SUV taxi.  I mentally patted myself on my back.  

Evidently, I am all powerful.  

Said with all humility, I am pretty much the Wizard of Oz. 

Just don't look behind the curtain.         

I went back to my hotel, rested my toes and before going out for the evening I changed into much more comfortable ballerina flats.  I had a third row ticket to "Lucky Guy" and I could not wait!  

I am a huge Nora Ephron fan and a huge Tom Hanks fan.  However, I didn't know that Peter Scolari was also in the play.  I kept hoping that at the end curtain, Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari would run out in their cross-dressing Buffy and Hildegard from TV show "Bosom Buddies" costumes.   

Spoiler alert - it did not happen.  I should have used my mind-bending energy thang to make it happen.  Sigh ... hindsight is 20/20.

I also didn't realize that the uber-talented Courtney B. Vance, Maura Tierney and Christopher McDonald were also in the cast!  Wow, this show was going to be amazing!

I dropped my coat off at the downstairs coat check (hallelujah, my parka is too huge for those little Broadway seats).  I stood in line at a bottleneck while people waited for the ushers to give them Playbills and escort them to their chairs.  There was a 50-something, skinny, redheaded woman in a big fur-collared coat who reminded me of Danny DeVito's character's mistress in the movie "Ruthless People" (see clip of the actress here).  The fur-laden woman reached out toward my waist with long, bony fingers.  I was holding a small black sequined clutch purse in front of my waist.   

My brain was thinking "What the hell is this bony, pasty woman doing?"  She looked at me as her hands were reaching at me and asked "Do you have any Playbills?"  My head snapped to attention.  

"WTF?"  

I looked at her and said "No ... because I - DON'T - WORK - HERE."  She just blinked at me as if she couldn't understand why I would be at the theater if it were not to wait on her.  Evidently there was no way I could be a patron of the theater.  

The woman's husband, who was wearing a track jacket; started chuckling.  He may have been amused, but I was not.

I looked at all the ushers - they were generally older, Caucasian, wore tuxedo-style shirts with bow ties and wore big red buttons saying "no cell phones."  I was in a black shirt and skirt and was holding a sequined clutch and no Playbill - but evidently in this hare-brained, fur-wearing lady's mind, I looked like "The Help."  

I grew up in the Midwest and have had more than my share of people confusing me with "The Help" because I'm not 100% Caucasian.  Although I am 1/2 Asian and 1/2 Caucasian, some crack-smokers think I look Latina.  I've had people loudly enunciate "Por Favor" or "Muchos Gracias" when trying to ask me to go fetch them something in a store.  "Um, queso caliente Motherfrickers, I don't work here.  Dos caminos!"  

I walked down to my third row stage left seat, second in from the center aisle.  The fur-wearer was also in my row, but the furthest seat practically sitting in the exit.  Sorry hare-brained lady, this "theater help" apparently has a better seat than you for the play.  

Normally I would attribute an interaction like this to subtle (or not so subtle racism) but seeing that all the ushers I saw were white, does this count as racism to my 1/2 Caucasian side?  Regardless which half the woman was consciously or subconsciously attacking, I was 100% annoyed and offended.  I know it may sound thin-skinned, but when it happens over and over again it can be difficult not to get a bit of bitterness over it.

However the show must go on!  I set aside my prickly annoyance once the play "Lucky Guy" started.  The first scene has all the major actors, except for Tom Hanks.  I was excited to see Courtney B. Vance.  I think he is absolutely the unsung talent of his generation.  He is under-utilized.  I would love to see him in more roles as a serious dramatic lead.  He has such gravitas and yet such subtle, smooth transitions between joy, anger, sadness and happiness.  He is a consummate actor. 

When my sister was twelve years old, I took her on her first trip to New York City and to four Broadway shows.  I let her in on a game I have been playing for years.  Whenever I go to a Broadway show, I search the Playbill to see if anyone in the cast has starred in one of the "Law and Order" television series.  I guarantee you that as long as it's an ensemble piece (no one-person shows), there will be at least one actor who has been on "Law and Order."

"Lucky Guy" was no exception - Courtney B. Vance actually starred in "Law and Order: Criminal Intent" as well as appeared in the original "Law and Order."  Cast members Brian Dykstra, Michael Gaston and Danny Mastrogiorgio as well as three of the understudies had all been on "Law and Order" as well.  Lily's Theater Game wins again!

I knew Tom Hanks would be good in "Lucky Guy."  He's a two-time Oscar winner, for heaven's sake.  Even though this was his first week of performances, I knew he would wow the audience.  Just like in his movies, he took me on an emotional rollercoaster with Nora Ephron's dialogue.  

But it was Courtney B. Vance, who was like a conductor on a train or to stick with the analogy, the calming older brother who sat next to us on the emotional rollercoaster.  He wove the seams of the play and pulled it all together.  Like the Narrator in the play "Old Town," Courtney B. Vance was the nurturing presence and the heartbeat of the play. 

Plus the scene where Tom Hanks and Courtney B. Vance's characters are on a morphine high together brings down the house.  Courtney B. Vance brought as many emotional highs and lows to the party, as Tom Hanks did.  If you're in New York City, I strongly urge you to see "Lucky Guy." 

After the play, once again I was left thinking that Courtney B. Vance needs to star in many, many more roles.  More people need to see the depth and expanse of his creative range.  It is a moral imperative!  I need to do some mind-bending, energy-bending mojo mantra magic on that task.  

Nora Ephron's last play reminded me not only of what a true talent she was, but what a great void we have in her passing.   

After the show, I tweeted: 
 

Loved seeing #LuckyGuy tonight -Tom Hanks was superb and it's always a great delight to see true talent @CourtneyBVance in action! #broadway

     
Well, the Twitter account of Courtney B. Vance (appropriately titled @CourtneyBVance on Twitter.com) favorited my Tweet and re-Tweeted it!  Now I am sure Courtney B. Vance has some social media intern who runs his Twitter account, but in my energy-bending mind I like to think that Courtney B. Vance was kicking back in his chauffeur-driven car checking his Tweets.  I also like to think that he thought "Well damn, that LilyOnTheLam (@SouthTampaLily) is one smart Tweeter!" and promptly favorited and reTweeted my Tweet.  

And if that scenario didn't happen, I like to think that Courtney B. Vance's also uber-talented spouse, the gorgeous Angela Bassett was at home with their twins and retweeting on her husband's behalf.  I see her in my mind's eye spotting my Tweet and knowing that LilyOnTheLam needs to be retweeted to the universe!  

 I suddenly have the urge to watch a double feature of "What's Love Got To Do With It?" and "Waiting to Exhale."

(Side Note:  Angela Bassett, Morgan Freeman and the one sole shot of Gerard Butler's chest were the only reason to see the movie "Olympus Has Fallen.")

I think Courtney B. Vance's Twitter account re-Tweeting my Tweet basically makes me a Broadway star too, right?  Right?  (Just agree with me!)

So what have I learned today as I pranced around Brooklyn and New York City?  

I learned that I should have gone with unfashionable athletic shoes instead of sassy boots.  

I learned that when your toes are about to drop off, my mind can bend energy to make taxis appear out of thin air.

I learned that even though I have a law degree, a good job and a sexy BMW convertible, ignorant people are still going to mistake me for "the help" - and that that is their issue not mine.  

I learned that while some of our great writing talents have been silenced recently, that their voices can still be heard through the talents of others.  Their contributions have immortalized them and they will not be forgotten.

I re-learned that Courtney B. Vance is amazing.

And I re-learned that New York City never fails to disappoint. 

Thanks for reading!

 

    


  

Airplane Etiquette - Your Thoughts?

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:

I was recently on a plane from San Juan, Puerto Rico to Miami, Florida.  I was kicking back in the Exit Row with my face buried in a magazine.  Eventually I paused, looked up and saw the following in the row ahead of me.

I travel a lot.  I try to be courteous when I can.  I usually do not strangle children when they spend a majority of the flight kicking the back of my seat.  (Emphasis on "usually.")  

I try not to give parents dirty looks when they bring their small children on a long flight without any snacks, toys or other distractions.  (Seriously?  Plan ahead, people!)  

I don't jam my knee into the seat in front of me so the person in front of me cannot recline their seat.  (Even when they have reclined so far back I feel like I am in dental hygienist school.  "Hi, I'm Lily and I am here to scrape your tartar.")

I try to exhibit behavior on an airplane that is unlikely to get me wrestled and hog-tied by any undercover air marshals.  (I'm not in to the rough stuff, boys!)  

So when I looked up and saw Mrs. Salmon/Melon colored moccasins had contorted herself into a "V" and was using the headrest of the person in front of her as her own personal foot rest.  I did a double take.  

Really?  REALLY?  Get your pastel-colored dirty bottomed shoes off the headrest and sit like a lady, old missy!  (That was my gut reaction.)

I just kind of stared at the woman's feet, not really believing what I was seeing.  And wondering how annoying it was for the person ahead of her to feel a pushing on the head rest caused by aforementioned resting feet?

A male flight attendant walked down the aisle, took one look at Mrs. Salmon/Melon colored moccasins and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly with a "whoo child, where do you think you are?" look.  But here's the thing ... the flight attendant (American Airlines) said nothing.  Just kept walking.  

I get whacked on the arm if it even looks like my seat is not in a full upright position and Mrs. Salmon is making the Exit Row her own personal shangri-la with only an eye roll from the flight attendant??  Seriously?  

Allow me to be incredibly sexist for a moment, but if the male flight attendant had been a weary, more seasoned female flight attendant I think I would have seen a head snap back, finger twirl, head roll and a Jerry Springer worthy "WOMAN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?  GET YOUR FEET DOWN FROM THERE!  WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"  I would have brought popcorn to see that show, but ohhhhh noooo - the male flight attendant just gives an eye roll.

Excuse me, but you work here Mr. Flight Attendant.  You're really not going to say anything?  You get an eye roll from me on that one!

So what do you think LilyOnTheLam.com readers?  If you're limber and physically able to transform yourself into a "V" and smack your melon colored moccasins on the headrest of the passenger in front of you, should you?  Is it a flight faux pas or perfectly normal, justifiable behavior?

I'd love to hear your viewpoints on this issue.



     

Thanks a lot, Sheraton!

On a business trip outside of Baltimore, I stayed at one of the Sheratons in the area.  I have stayed at this hotel before and find it pretty comfortable plus they have a nice breakfast buffet with an egg station.  I loves me a good egg station.  The rest of my business team was arriving later in the day, so I went to the hotel restaurant by myself for breakfast.  I do not have a problem eating by myself - my own independent spirit combined with an insane business travel schedule makes me fairly OK with being my only dining companion.  The waitress-- a starched vest wearing, gray pompadour sporting older woman - asked: "And who will be joining you?"  I said "It's just me."  She replied "Oh, so no body loves you" and she squeezed my arm in some sort of mock sympathy.


Seriously?  I didn't realize I ordered a side of shame and pity with my eggs!  Thanks a lot, Sheraton!  What a great way to start the day!  And she added a 15% tip to the check, even though the receipt clearly states that tip is only added for parties of 5 or more.  I thought about protesting the mandatory 15%.  When I was in grad school, I dated a Marine and his favorite saying was "Is this the hill you want to die on?" when contemplating whether he should make a big deal out of something.  Well I didn't want to die on gray pompadour butch waitress hill, so I just let the 15% go.


There is something about me that makes waitstaff want to touch me.  It is a bit of a joke among my close friends.  Whenever we go out to dinner, they watch to see how long before the waiter/waitress squeezes my arm, my shoulder or rubs my back.  Strangers like to touch me for some reason.  I find it disconcerting but am somewhat used to it by now.  But at least normally waitstaff don't accompany the squeeze/rub/pat with a statement that no one loves me!  I am hoping this is not the new trend. 


The evening desk clerk at the Sheraton was a very nice man with a fun personality and very courteous demeanor, so what the Columbia, MD Sheraton lacks in restaurant waitstaff etiquette their night desk staff makes up for it. 

Destination: Baltimore, MD

I watched a man get a pat down from the TSA as I stood in the very slow moving security check line at the airport.  I rarely get pulled out of line for the full body scan - and haven't been subjected to it since the whole "Don't touch my junk" debacle reared its ugly head.  While I don't necessarily relish anyone seeing an invasive body scan (especially after all the holiday sweets I have gobbled up!), I don't get on the soapbox screaming about my liberty in peril. 

Perhaps these thoughts of liberty and junk and pat downs kept me so preoccupied that I didn't realize my car keys were in my pants pocket.  I walked through the metal detector with no problem and no beeping.  It wasn't until I was re-packing my lap top and putting my shoes back on that I realized the big wad of metal in my pocket had somehow gone undetected.  Had the extra holiday pounds somehow created a flesh shield in which metal could no longer be detected? 

I'm always torn when things like this happen with the TSA.  Like when my computer bag went through the X-ray with a one liter bottle of water in it without being stopped.  Part of me wants to go back and say "Hey TSA screener, wake up!"  But the other part of me feels like I got away with something ... a secret thrill.  Or maybe it's just the cosmos' way of making up for the time when the TSA screener confiscated my half-full 4 ounce bottle of lotion because it was one ounce over the 3 ounce allowance.  Or as some sort of cosmic apology for when some airports scream at me to put my shoes on the belt and other airports scream at me to put my shoes in the bin.  Make up your mind already people, I fly too much to deal with all your nonsense!

My latest destination for Lily on the Lam is Baltimore, Maryland.  I'd like to say I had a late dinner in a quaint bistro that reminds me why Baltimore is a colorful melting pot of history.  But nope - I had a burger from room service.  It was pretty darn tasty, though.  And the room has complimentary Starbucks coffee and Tazo teas - extra points for that. So way to go, Baltimore!  I'm Lily on the Lam with a belly full of red meat and quality beverages at my disposal.  Overall, not a bad way to start a trip in a new city.