Friday, March 28, 2008

I'm not the only one enjoying spring break

From the New York Post March 27, 2008 -- Paul McCartney and Nancy Shevell were seen riding bikes in Jumby Bay, Antigua

From the New York Metropolitan Transit Authority
Member Nancy Shevell
Recommended by: Governor of New York
Date Appointed:
June 18, 2001
Term Expires:
June 30, 2011
Board Committees:
Chair: Capital Construction/Planning and Real Estate; Member: Finance, Audit, Governance, Long Island Rail Road/Long Island Bus, Bridges and Tunnels

Gossip that I'm repeating without attribution

According to a source close to Ms Shevell and her then-husband, Bruce, she and Sir Paul have known each other for more than 10 years. She was a friend of Paul's first wife, Linda, who died of breast cancer in 1998. Ms. Shevell was diagnosed with breast cancer the year after Linda and the two women fought the disease together.

I have high hopes for this one. I love romance and would love seeing Sir Paul enjoy a happy ending. (Even though it looks like this Nancy IS a Republican.)

What I learned while hanging around in a robe

There's something healing about going off by myself. In this suburb of Atlanta, where the only decisions I had to wrestle with were whether or not to have my eyebrows shaped (I chickened out) and whether I wanted the beef bourguignon or the salmon steak (the beef was just sooo fabulous!), I was able to turn off the noise. To think about my life and how I felt about things. To give myself a little direction.

My "living piece of shit" ex-boyfriend (as he was recently christened by my oldest friend) was on my mind again as he hasn't been in years. Most vividly when I was having a neck and shoulder massage by a man. There was something chilling and awful about a man's large hands on my neck from behind. Deja terror. But good actually came of this. I reminded myself that he's only top of mind because last week he tried to reinsert himself into my life. I've decided that, "I hear him knocking, but he can't come in." Therefore he'll fade from my consciousness again. It's up to me now. I let him ruin my life once. I won't let him do so again. I just won't. And this isn't "fake it until you make it" talk. I believe every word I just wrote.

The economy is on my mind, just as it is on everyone else's. Even in what should be "the happiest place on earth." While getting an absolutely wonderful foot massage, I heard one of the Chateau Elan nail techs announce that she was knocking off early because her hours had been cut. The limo driver who ferried me between airport and spa was new to livery -- he ran a horse farm nearby and has sold off most of the horses on his way to retirement, but right now he can't get the price for his land he knows it's worth. So he spends his mornings making a few extra bucks and sharing his observations on life from behind the wheel of gray Mercedes, waiting for the real estate market to change.

I realized I feel vulnerable, too, because I have too much credit card debt. Yes, I have almost 8 months' worth of expenses tucked away and yes, I know that's a laudable nest egg. But that nest egg would last just that much longer in case of a layoff if I owed less to Citibank. Reducing my debt is not only the smart thing to do, it's the comfortable thing to do. I'm a nice old gal. I deserve to feel good about my situation. So I'm going to curb the incidental, silly spending. Not vacations like this one -- I need and deserve these. But really, NO MORE PURSES for a while! And no more books until I dent this prodigious TBR pile. I'm going to have to watch what else I piss my money away on each week. I know there must be ways to economize. I'll feel stronger and safer for doing it.

One of the best things about a vacation spent mostly in a spa-supplied robe is that I have precious little laundry to do. So I have many time-consuming tasks that simply MUST be done before Monday, so I can continue decompressing -- and maintaining this feeling of zen -- until I have to return to work and real life.

I found my color for 2008!

It's Puerto Vallarta Violet by OPI. It's light but not shimmery, feminine without being girly. I had it applied to my finger/toe nails as I sipped champagne and nibbled chocolate. Unfortunately the spa didn't have any sealed bottles for sale, so I've had to order it online. But still, it's a lovely way to remember my "ah … spa!" days at Chateau Elan.

I must note that even though my manicure is only 48 hours old, it's already a mess. I warned the manicurist that I'm very hard on my fingernails and she pooh-poohed me. I'd just never had a manicure by HER. She seemed to realize that I am indeed a hard case when she had to redo my right thumb nail three times before I even left the chair.

My toenails, however, are gorgeous. I endlessly admire their beauty.

I also had my makeup done for the first time in, perhaps, a hundred years. Lauryn, the esthetician, gave me some good advice for modernizing my eye makeup. NO mascara on the bottom lashes, instead wear eyeliner. It's something I never would have tried, and yet it does indeed draw attention to my eyes. I had a great time playing with colors and brushes.

I did stymie Lauryn by not being thrilled with the powdery mineral foundation she used. I have deep dimples, which are cool when I'm smiling but leave deep wrinkles when I'm not. Unfortunately that foundation just settles into those wrinkles and looks cakey. Poor Laryn didn't know how to wean me off my tinted moisturizer. I'll accept a little less coverage in exchange for a smoother look.

This just in! I'm an idiot!

My niece, the budding chef, takes her ingredients seriously. So when I came upon Chateau Elan's private label salad dressings, I excitedly picked up a bottle for her. It was some special onion-&-something recipe. I was so looking forward to giving it to her! So I wrapped it in tissue paper and a bag and placed it with TLC into my carry on.

Guess what I forgot: salad dressing is liquid. My foundation, my chapstick, etc., all these I put into the zip-lock baggie. I was so careful about following all the rules! How could I have overlooked the fact that salad dressing is liquid and needed to be checked?

So I see an Atlanta t-shirt, purchased at the airport gift shop, in my niece's future. Oh well … if that's the worst thing that goes down while on vacation (and it was) it was a very good trip (and it was).

More later …