Schooner's Restaurant

Despite the unfortunate weigh-in at the airport, we had a very pleasant 40-minute flight in the Cessna 402 to Nantucket. The winds were calm as we landed at Nantucket Airport and immediately flashbacks of the once-popular TV show "Wings" took flight. The airport is quaint, simple and you could easily imagine Helen cooking up something greasy at the restaurant behind the ticket counter. We grabbed our bags, the keys to the rental car (courtesy of Nantucket Windmill Auto Rental) and set off on the island.

The six-minute drive to The Anchor Inn was equally as easy. The innkeepers were there to greet us and show us to our room. Each room at the inn is named after a ship -- we stayed in Cyprus on the second floor -- and is dressed with canopy beds, full bathrooms and quaint views of the hidden gardens nearby.




We strolled into town (only a few blocks from the inn) and found our seat on the outside patio at Schooner's Restaurant. The sun set as we dined on clam chowder, swordfish caeser salads and schooner dogs (fried hot dogs) and washed it all back with bottomless glasses of Merlot's and Heineken's.


Schooners was the perfect welcome to the start of the Nantucket weekend.

The Great Weigh In

Who needs Weight Watchers when you have Cape Air?

Friday was finally here and I was ready for Nantucket. I even dressed ready. I wore my new stark-white jeans and a black sweater, had my platform crocs on and was packed and ready when I got to work at 7 a.m. My travel buddy for this trip, Heather, emailed me first-thing to tell me she was ready to go. We were meeting at 3:30 p.m.

A quick T-ride and a shuttle service to Terminal C later, we were in line to get our boarding pass at the Cape Air ticket counter. The sign in the line was prominently placed to let travelers know that unless the bag is small, it's going to be checked. And by small, I mean it has to fit in a 2x2 space in the wing. The other bags go down below so take rearrange everything -- cell phones, laptops, medications... anything you need close to you (and by close to you, I mean in the wing of the plane). Heather checked in first and when the attendant opened up, Heather turned around and glared at me. What could have possibly happened in the two minutes she was at the check-in desk? Did they mess up her flight? Was her bag too heavy? Is too windy to fly?

No. It was much worse. I approached the ticket desk and attendant smiled and asked for my I.D.

"Thank you," she said. "And, how much do you weigh?"

@%&)@*!

"How much do you weigh, bitch?" is what I wanted to say. Instead I replied, "Are you serious?"

"Yes," she smiled.

"Ummm...I honestly haven't a clue," I said. Truth was I did know, but hell if I was going to share that info with Cape Air. That's private information between me and my doctor. Or so I thought.

"Ma'am, I need your weight," she said again. I looked at Heather, who was giving me the "I had to tell her mine and it didn't hurt" look. UGH.

"How much do you think I weigh?" I asked. This was not amusing to the attendant. Her job was simply to make sure the weight was adjusted properly on the 6-seater. She had no idea this question would send me straight to therapy.



I gave the weight Nazi an estimated number and took my boarding pass. We whisked through security and Heather looked at me, "Beer and french fries?" she said.

"Oh hell yes," I said. "We'll just have to tell the pilot we ate before we board the plane."

Moral of the Story: Laugh Out Loud

I've said it before -- to laugh out loud is one of the best forms of therapy. Whether you're with your best friends or alone with a good book or movie, a good laugh is good for the soul.

So do your soul a favor and go see "Sex and the City: The Movie". Forget what the critics are saying; forget what you're reading in Page Six. Grab a bag of popcorn, some Twizzlers and a good seat and enjoy the laugh-out-loud movie.

I thought it was wonderful. It's no surprise that our heroine finds her true love in the end, but in her soul-searching she discovers that laughter really is the best medicine. And that with a little tequila and a great pair of shoes, everything seems better (if only for one night).

Finding the Cheapest Airline Ticket

Over the past few days there have been a handful of people asking me for advice on booking the cheapest airline ticket. When it comes right down to it there are only two things to remember. Indulge me while I take a moment to impart my wisdom (small as it may be) on finding a cheap fare.

BE FLEXIBLE.

The more flexible you are with your travel plans, the cheaper the ticket will be. Ex: A friend is traveling with his family (total =4) from St. Louis to Orlando in July. He's renting a condo from Saturday to Saturday, but he has a place to stay on an off night if the flights need to be adjusted. Because of his flexibility in flying, he saved almost $300 PER TICKET. That's huge in airline dollars.

BOOK NOW.

If you know you have travel plans coming up, book your tickets now. It's unlikely the price of fuel is going to come down so drastically that the airlines will slash prices. Also, by booking now, you will avoid any new upcoming fees that airlines may impose. Ex: American Airlines announced they are charging passengers to check bags. However, if you read the fine print of your e-ticket contract, you'll note that if you purchased your ticket prior to this announcement you do not have to pay that fee. Book now to avoid any additional fees!

The airline industry is not in the best shape but there are cheap tickets to be found. Be patient, be flexible and plan ahead.

(Shameless plug: I just finished an article on ways to stretch your travel dollar - check it out for extra travel savings on your next trip!)

Nantucket (Finally)

This weekend is finally the long-awaited weekend on Nantucket. I've coerced my friend Heather into traveling with me. For one thing, it gives me a little security on a tiny plane, and second, she's a lot of fun. What I'm most looking forward to is Heather's journey on the plane. She's probably as tall as the plane. I wonder where they'll ask her to sit.

We leave tomorrow at 5:55 p.m. and arrive Nantucket 40 minutes later - just in time to find dinner. I'm thinking cheap seafood. Sadly, the weather forecast for Saturday calls for rain. At this point, I will hike in the rain, beach in the rain, and walk through the rain to get this article complete. Heather suggested a little pub crawl through Nantucket to find the cheapest beers. I can get on board with that, actually. Maybe a couple pit stops for pizza and dogs -- and a quick update on the blog -- then back to the beer.

Anyone else have suggestions? The concept is cheap finds in Nantucket, so if you know of any, share them now!

Tea Challenge Over

I gave it a good 12 hours and I'm calling it quits. But not because I'm tired and have a headache. Actually, I have a better reason.

I'm going to Rome in a week. AS IF I'm not going to have coffee when I'm there! Of course I'm going to have coffee when I'm there. I intend to sit and linger at as many outdoor cafes as I can find and sip coffee and wine as if it's water.

Tea challenge to resume post-Rome.

Mid-day Tea Update

I have a headache and I'm falling asleep at my desk. I just brewed a cup of green tea -- waiting for it to kick in. Meanwhile, I researched some coffee vs. tea stats and found this bit rather enlightening:

Starbucks Grande coffee: 320 mg/caffeine
Speciality brewed teas: between 40-120 mg/caffeine (depending on the type of tea)

I've basically cut my caffeine intake in half. This would explain my headache. I've alerted my co-workers so that when I crash at my desk they won't be alarmed. I've also alerted my editor in the event my words don't make any sense. I blame the lack of caffeine.

Coffee vs. Tea Debate

Here's the thing about coffee addicts -- we are obsessive about the quality of the coffee. This water-downed brown liquid that is served in airplanes and in airports is for amateur coffee drinkers. Sadly, sometimes that's the only choice. Unless you're a tea drinker. Tea drinkers usually have a choice and so today I've decided: I am now a tea drinker.

I'm switching my caffeine addiction from coffee to tea. Instead of starting my morning with a cup of freshly-brewed strong coffee, I'm going to enjoy a hot and steamy cup of tea. I've already warned my co-workers and my friends who are reading this are likely shaking their head and making mental notes to not be around me in the morning BUT... I think it's a good switch for a few reasons:

• Tea is healthier for you.
• Green tea is loaded with herbs and antioxidants.
• In some cases, tea has more caffeine than coffee.
• Personally, I like the flavor variations of tea better than coffee.
• I am sick and tired of brown water being served as a substitute for coffee on airlines.

I started my day with a cup of Bombay Chai. It's strong, it's spicy, and so far, it's keeping me awake.

Weekend in Washington, DC

Another weekend trip planned for the summer: Washington, DC. One of my favorite cities in the U.S. and home to some of the most fascinating museums and monuments.

My friend Julie and her two kids are coming along for the fun. It's time to get these kids out of New England and show them some culture! And to add to the fun: it will be their first time on a plane. Woo!! I booked us a great hotel on Hotels.com -- near the Capitol building and only a few blocks from the Smithsonian museums.

Side note: Hotels.com is great! This is also where we found our killer rate for Rome. They have some amazing promotions that you won't find elsewhere -- like 30 percent off the third night, or free airport shuttles -- and that makes a huge difference when you're looking to save money on summer travel.

Here's what is on my list of things-to-do in Washington, DC:

• Air & Space Museum
• International Spy Museum
• Jefferson Memorial
• Lincoln Memorial
• Vietnam Memorial (I'm actually thinking of putting together a scavenger hunt for the kids that will take them to all these must-see memorials)
• Arlington National Cemetary
• Walk around Embassy Row
• Walk around Capitol Hill

I'm going to show these kids what D.C. is all about -- power, privilege and prestige -- and about the fundamentals of our country's history. I can't wait to walk them past the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the eternal flame at JFK's gravesite.

Oh, and I almost forgot... reservations at Tony & Joe's for some amazing seafood...

Increased Airline Fees for Luggage, Pets and...Antlers?

It seems the airline industry is digging down deep to come up with additional ways to charge passengers. New on the airline fee scene: antlers.

Yes, antlers.

Frontier Airlines announced Friday it will increase the charge for taking antlers on its planes to $100 from $75. Sure, Frontier is also adding additional fees for extra luggage, pets, and more. But if you travel during hunting season and you score your game, and you want the trophy prize to hang on your wall, you'll have to pay for those antlers. And rightly so.

There are way too many things wrong with this story, so I'll leave the commenting to you. Only in America, folks. (I can't even post an image with this story.)

Step Back to Beacon Hill

My cousin and his girlfriend came for a visit from New York this weekend. I'm the oldest by 10 years, in this case. My younger cousin moved to NYC three years ago to embark on his financial career. His girlfriend followed suit a few years later.

This was the first weekend in months I've been at home so the visit worked out well. The weather was beautiful, the company was pleasant and for the first time in years I got to play tour guide to my own city. I forgot how much there is to see in Boston.

We started our journey through Boston Commons and the Boston Public Garden. We boarded the Swan Boats and enjoyed the serene ride around the lake. I never really looked at the weeping willow trees before this day. Afterwards, we walked through Beacon Hill and admired the historical homes, the gas lights and the windowsill flower beds that lined the apartments on Mount Vernon Street. Walking through Beacon Hill is like stepping back in time - a gaze down Chestnut Street, Acorn Street, Willow Street or Louisburg Square evokes images of horse-drawn carriages, parasols and three-piece suits accessorized with time pieces and gold cuff links. Further up Mount Vernon Street, we turned right on Joy Street and headed back toward the public garden, where the twenty-first century was in full swing.

American Airlines Passengers Paying the Premium

The recent news that American Airlines is going to start charging for checked luggage has sent travelers into a frenzy. It's not enough that airline tickets have increased, but they took away our free peanuts, squeezed us into smaller spaces and now they are making us pay to pack clothes. American Airlines' new price gauge is not the first by industry standards. In recent months, most major airlines have increased fees by way of extra baggage, taxes and fees associated with the plane ticket costs, and even increasing fees for pets and minors to fly. But to pay to check luggage? Was this an inevitable add-on, or is it really as ridiculous as it seems?

A colleague of mine, after hearing the news, announced that she's no longer going to search for the cheapest airfares because as she said, "what's the point?" Instead, her new practice is to buy airline tickets with the airlines she likes. Stay with what you know. You might pay a little extra, but at least you know you're greeted with a smile or a bag of pretzels. As far as airlines go, that says a lot.

I have a couple of questions for American Airlines.

1. If I have to pay you an additional fee to check my luggage, does that mean you aren't going to lose my luggage? I don't see the point in paying you to check my luggage if my luggage never arrives. Do I get my checked baggage fee returned if my bags don't show up?

2. If you are currently struggling to meet budget, why only run one-time promotions? Ex: if a $90 first-class upgrade is offered at the self-service kiosk, why can't you allow passengers the same option at the gate? It's an extra $90. Wouldn't you rather have the $90 instead of nothing?

3. Since inevitably everyone will stop checking their luggage, how are you going to handle the air traffic delays? It's going to take passengers twice a long to board because they'll take twice as long to adjust their bags around themselves in the 2 inches of space allotted on the plane.

It's food for thought, travelers. Consider the airline before you book, and then rethink what you're packing before you board. In the best case scenario, your bags will stay with you during the journey. Worst case: you lost money and your underwear.

Fasting For Your Flight

A new report from Harvard Medical School says that starving yourself before a long flight may prevent jetlag. According to the report, the body's "natural circadian clock in the brain dictates when to wake, eat and sleep, all in response to light. But it seems a second clock takes over when food is scarce, and manipulating this clock might help travelers adjust to new time zones."

I don't condone fasting -- ok, that's not entirely true, I've been known to go on crash-fast diets -- but I'm actually going to try this out for Rome. According to the report, I have to go 16-hours before the flight without eating. My flight leaves Boston at 6 p.m. so that means no more food after dinner the night before. Apparently, by fasting, this will give my second body clock enough time to adjust to the new time zone and prevent jetlag. We'll see how bitchy I get after 16 hours of no food. Does alcohol count as food?

I should mention that the study was originally performed on mice and hasn't been proven to work in humans, yet.

Ladies and Gentlemen: The (American Idol) Pips

I am not a devotee of American Idol, but like the rest of America I tuned in last night to watch David Cook take the crown (and deservedly so).

One of the best things American Idol did this year was bring real talent to the stage, both in the contestants and the guest judges and coaches. And the finale was no different. I applaud David Cook -- it's about time a real rocker won American Idol -- but the best part of the night goes to Ben Stiller, Robert Downey, Jr., and Jack Black.

I'm veering from the purpose of the blog for one moment to bring you The Pips, Jack Black-style.

Filofax + Average American Woman = True Love

I recently purchased a new mini Filofax. It's small, it's red, it holds my business cards and it's an attempt at staying organized - so far, so good. But I was simply full of glee this afternoon when I opened my new red leather-bound friend and turned to the section on conversions. (That's one of the best things about these organizers --they come with conversion charts, currency descriptions, telephone numbers and important travel dates.

If you're ever in Shanghai and need help finding the train station, Filofax recommends you ask a local, "火車站". I have absolutely no idea how to pronounce that, but I believe that Filofax is correct.

In any case, I happened upon the Clothing Size Equivalents page in my Filofax and I was pleased to see that Filofax started the size conversion with a size 8. SIZE 8. Not size 00. Not size -2. Size 8. The size of the average American woman. The size that many modeling agencies consider 'fat'. Filofax takes their size equivalent chart up to a size 22.

Thank you, Filofax, for recognizing the beauty of a size 8 and beyond.

Best Wishes, Sen. Kennedy

The news of Sen. Edward Kennedy's malignant brain tumor is sad and shocking. Republicans and Democrats alike have bonded over their brother in the senate, sending well wishes to the family and friends who surround the senator at Mass General Hospital. For me personally, the news of his health is devastating.

I was raised in a household that revered the Kennedy's. In fact, my passion for politics stems back to my childhood when my mom would tell me stories of Jack and Bobby. They inspired her, and thus, the Kennedys inspired me.

When I started my journalism career on Capitol Hill, my beat was the Massachusetts Senate and Kennedy was one of my targets. I covered his moves in the Senate; bills he protested and those he approved and even got a few interviews with the Senator on the lawn outside his office while he engaged in a game of catch with his dog, Splash. But my best day was one day in April 2002, when Sen. Kennedy invited me and a few other reporters to "hang" with him in his office. There I sat, in his office, surrounded by pictures he painted and subtle memorials of his brothers, and I was taken by the inspiration that has empowered Americans for more than 60 years. He was a gracious host that day -- talked to us about our career ambitions, working in Washington, I'll never forget when he said, "When my brothers were in office..." it was a moment my heart skipped a beat.

I admit I'm a Kennedy devotee but what I remember most about my time in Washington was how cordial and kind Sen. Kennedy was to everyone he encountered. That time was a pivotal time in my career, and I have Sen. Kennedy to thank in part for that.

Best wishes for a full and speedy recovery. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

Shopping -- The Ultimate Escape

Honestly, I don't know why people live in St. Louis. Ok, I guess that's not fair - some people do like St. Louis and have made a home here. But I just don't understand why. It's like a city in the middle of a corn field filled with cow crap. It's hot and muggy - and it's only May - and everyone seems to be in slow-motion here. The number of times I wanted to stick my head out the car door window and scream "Move!!" is endless.

Maybe this is more of a self-reflection issue. Obviously, I was not right for St. Louis but that doesn't mean St. Louis isn't right for everyone else. My sister is doing well here, although secretly I think she wishes she were overlooking the Florida beaches, and my Grama hasn't left this town in 77 years. For some people, St. Louis works. For me, a flight to St. Louis is an excuse to escape my childhood by shopping!

Best part of the weekend? Shopping with my sister! I finally bought a pair of white pants I have been needing for summer outfits and I purchased a few fun "evening" tops for the summer. Since sis had to pick up shoes, I grabbed myself a pair, too. It's an addiction people. Check out my new Karen Scott Birch Sandals in tortoise. And a new black and white top from White House/Black Market.

I'm sitting the airport lounge -- 4.5 hours to go until my flight home...

Alernate Routes at the Airport

It's 7:45 a.m. St. Louis time - I was the airport at 6 a.m., my flight doesn't leave until 12 noon. No, it's not because I'm fleeing the city. Dad had an early business flight and I figured I might as well hit the airport, too. Dad's a kick-ass traveler and knows all the secret hiding spots. In St. Louis, three of the four terminals are connected so instead of waiting in line at the main security check-point, we bypassed the masses and went to another security line used mainly for charter flights. There were two people in that security line: me and Dad. We breezed through security just as a family with newborns was approaching.

I have a lot of respect for those women who can whisk through a security line with baby bjorn's and toddlers at toe, plus diaper bags and personal items. It makes my airport woes slightly more selfish, but that's the nature of being single, I suppose.

My friend Jane sent this new blog written by one of her mommy friends and this is one awesome forum to share the kiddy news. Go Get Your Jacket is written by working women with full-time mommy jobs, too, and offers an insight into helping flow the career and parenthood paths. Enjoy!

The Art of Driving - St. Louis Style

Remember the scene in "My Best Friend's Wedding," when Cameron Diaz is driving her convertible through the Chicago freeway and convincing Julia Roberts to be her maid-of-honor? She realizes she's about to miss her exit and swerves across three lanes of traffic to exit without breaking or missing a beat? Remember the look on Julia Roberts' face? That was me at 7:50 a.m. this morning driving through rush-hour morning traffic with my sister.

As I've said before, no one in St. Louis knows how to drive. My sister is pretty good, but I realized this weekend that she's good because she has speed. Which doesn't make her good, necessarily, but certainly prompt. I clutched the side of the car during our ride this morning and as she rolled her eyes at me she screamed at the car to the right who wouldn't move over so she could merge in. Now I realize I'm not a fast driver, or a good driver for that matter, but I know a few things:

• You don't accelerate when the rest of traffic is breaking.
• You don't flip off the marine in the pick-up truck who won't slow down so you can move in.
• You don't text message and drive at the same time.

Now, I love my sister. Everyone knows that. But I fear we might die together in her car. However, she did get us to the best ice cream treat in St. Louis...

To end our day of shopping and finish off our meal, we jumped in the Suzuki and drove to Ted Drewes Frozen Custard, home of the St. Louis concrete.

Sitting at My Sister's

It's Sunday morning in St. Louis. My allergies are on high alert - eyes itching, headaches, itchy throat. The St. Louis Syndrome has begun.

I stay with my sister when I visit. Actually, it's my sister, her two dogs and the cat. I hardly slept last night, but I slept a little. When I had the bed. The bigger dog, Sasha, slept at my feet and the cat found a comfy spot on my head.

The Starbucks doesn't even open here for another hour. It's 7:53 a.m. in St. Louis. Day 1 starts now.

Until Next Time

After an office lunch-hour filled with shoe shopping and subsequently four new pairs of shoes, my feet were armed and ready for fashion. Two pairs of flats, a pair of brown sandles and black stiletto heels with a black patent trim later, I was feeling fine about my feet. The rest of my body could use some work, but my feet looked gooooood.

My Friday night plans: pick up the Zipcar and meet my friend TJ at a local Italian restaurant near her house, about 40 minutes south of Boston.

Anyone who knows me knows I hate to drive. Anyone who has driven with me will tell you never to drive with me. And I’m even worse in the rain. I tense up. My shoulders become part of my head – an extension of my ears – and the 10-and-2 hand rule is strictly followed. The speed limit is obeyed, if it’s even matched, and at the first sign of chaos the hazard lights go on. And this night, it was raining. Nothing good ever happens when I drive in the rain.

But TJ is worth the drive… she’s always come to meet me in the city and always up for a late-night martini when she’s in town. We’ve spent years in the media business laughing, working and struggling together. Each time we meet, there’s always a “next time we get together…” sentence that usually ends with us dining at a fancy five-star restaurant and toasting our fabulous selves. We still have a list of “next time” places we have to try.

Over the past months, we made dates and canceled dates. But tonight was different. I was going to get there. It had been too long, and I’m traveling until mid-June, so there was no backing out. I hopped in the Nissan four-door coupe, turned on the windshield wipers, slowly reversed out of the parking lot and looked both ways as I eased out of the tiny city parking lot. I turned left to head for the highway, stopping quickly to make sure I didn’t miss another car coming at me. I hate driving. Ok – I’m good. I’m out of the parking lot. The local radio station is doing an 80s night – I’m singing along. I veer left to head into the tunnel that takes me to Boston’s South Shore.

The mother-f---er “service engine soon” lights starts blinking at me. Excellent. This is why I don’t own a car. I don’t have the patience for this. If something breaks, I throw it away. I can’t quite throw the car away, so I drove. The yellow “service engine soon” light blinking at me the entire way but I drove.

I finally got to TJ around 8 p.m. and called her to find out about parking.

“There is a valet,” she said.

“Great. I have approximately $10 cash on me…how much is the valet?”

“You’re not in the city, honey,” she said. “Valet is free out here in the suburbs.”

Sweet! So I drove in circles looking for the valet stand – which is usually right in front of the restaurant but apparently in the ‘burbs, they move the valet stand to behind the restaurant. Maybe that’s why it’s free. Anyway, in my quest to find the valet I actually found a parking spot. Pulled in, put it in park, and went to meet TJ.

We ran inside the restaurant, grabbed a table and took deep breaths as we inhaled the roasted garlic and fresh foccacia that was in front of us. We ordered gigantic plates of pasta and in between bites tried to fill each other in on what’s been happening. She with the kids. Me with the travel. We talked about the people we’ve seen and those we haven’t. We both realized that our year of self-pity had come to a close when we tried to zip our jeans that morning, so we’re both on a diet. After this bowl of pasta. And we agreed that next time we got together, we’d be five pounds thinner and treat ourselves to some shopping… and not just for shoes. Next time.

TJ finds out on Monday if she has cancer. Next time we get together, we’re going shopping.

The Constant: Change

My father always says, "The only thing constant in life is change."
But change ain't easy.

New jobs, new managers, new doctors, new diagnosis', new weight gain, new weight loss, new outlooks on life - all things that ignite change. How you adapt to that change is what makes the difference. That's one of the reasons I find travel to be sacred - you learn to embrace new cultures and new ideologies, and by adapting to another person's way of life you soon discover ways you can change in your own life.

While enjoying my lychee martini last night at MKT in Boston, I had a realization: everyone in this bar is escaping from something that happened today. Doesn't that make us all connected? Do we fear the change before it even happens and if so, do we try to mask that change with martinis?

A new website called First30Days.com offers tips, guides and mantras for helping get through the big change -- whatever it may be. The site is in beta, but it's worth a visit to see what words of wisdom and inspiration you can gather. Ariane de Bonvoisin is the host of the site and a certified life coach.

She says, "Change has been an integral part of my life, and while things have not always been easy, there are ways of making change a bit simpler..."

The featured tip for today: Always wear clean underwear.
(This is not just a good rule of thumb to live by, but if you actually click on the tip - hosted by First30Days.com - you will land on a blog post about donating to charity, which is a great way to help change the lives of others.)

Virgin Thanks, Thoughts, and Prayers

Pope Benedict thanked consecrated women virgins who gathered today at the Vatican for their "total gift" to Christ. These virgins, said the pope, are going straight to heaven where they are "betrothed mystically" to Christ.

I am going straight to hell.

By the time hell is ready for me I'll have accrued enough points for a first class ticket, baby. In the meantime, I'm going to Rome. Home of the Pope. Who doesn't much care for "sinners" or have much faith in non-Catholics. He noted, as he thanked the virgins, that their "gift" was difficult for some non-Catholics to understand.

Let me step back from one moment and say that, as an adult, I firmly believe in preaching abstinence and/or chastity to young children. Anyone with young nieces or nephews, or those who have kids of their own, will agree with me. As kids get older and can comprehend emotions, I don't see anything wrong with explaining the realities of sex and the importance of protection - but physically and emotionally. But let's be real... the only reason we as adults can preach that lifestyle now is because we've already indulged in the dark side.

Like everything in life this is all very ironic, of course, because this morning I booked a 5 1/2-hour of the Vatican for Monday, June 9. The pope is going to be so excited to see me.

Feeding Your Soul

One of the best parts of traveling is experiencing new cuisine in a new city or country. And sometimes, the finest cuisine is in your own neighborhood.

After a long day, when your eyes are too strained to focus and your body is too heavy to get on the Stairmaster, a good glass of a wine and a big bowl of pasta is just good for the soul.

Boston's North End has some of the best Italian restaurants in the country (can't wait to test the Italian cuisine in Rome) and one of the best is Il Panino Express. I grabbed a bowl of tortellini pesto, opened a bottle of Cabernet and continued to feed my soul with salacious gossip on Entertainment Tonight.

Ode to GiGi the Giraffe

I was at dinner with friends last night -- the three of us have a standing monthly dinner date to catch up -- and after an appetizing plate of eggplant, garlic and tomato something-or-other and a glass of wine, the topic of travel came up.

My friend Kate is heading to Spain this Friday - one of my favorite places in the world. She's touring the Costa del Sol with her family and gets back just in time for me to head to Nantucket, before leaving for Rome. Roger is buying a home with his wife - that's his big travel this summer. As we talked about our world adventures, the topic quickly turned to "what's next?" on the travel spectrum...

My parents introduced me and my sister to animals at a very early age. Dogs were always roaming the house and we were foster parents to zoo animals -- one, in particular, was my favorite: GiGi the Giraffe.

Every weekend we went to the St. Louis Zoo to feed GiGi. We got certificates that applauded our efforts to care for the young giraffe. I had giraffe dolls and hung my foster parent award proudly on the wall in my bedroom. To this day, giraffes remain my favorite animal and when I found Giraffe Manor in Nairobi, I knew I had to go.

The Giraffe Centre was built on the Kenya property so that Kenyan school children could learn conservation/ecology. Visitors touring Nairobi have a chance to visit and pay an entrance to the Giraffe Centre and all profits go to various projects in Kenya. What's more, you can actually spend the week at Giraffe Manor caring for the giraffes.

Kate was intrigued, and if I can convince her to go that might be an awesome 2009 trip (maybe 2010; Kenya ain't cheap). Getting to Kenya, however, is no easy trip. I don't mind tiny planes, canoes or jeeps. But if someone says the word, "camp", we're going to have a little bit of a problem...

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu...

...to the Van Trapp Family villa. According to reports, the original Van Trapp Family villa will open as a hotel this summer. For Sound of Music fans, this is a dream come true. I can already picture myself clad in lederhosen running up the mountain singing "The hills are alive..."
(Ok, probably not, because I would never wear lederhosen, but it paints a picture of how excited I am about this opening).

According to the story, "The Villa Trapp hotel will give visitors a chance to sleep in the family's former bedrooms or get married in their chapel."

There will no doubt be singing, dancing and frolicking in the hills for Sound of Music fans. You'll stand on the staircase where the kids and Fraulein Maria sang every night before bedtime, you can dance in the gazebo where Liesl and Rolf secretly sang and fell in love. You might even get to climb a tree or mountain. (I suggest you don't take the curtains off the bedroom windows and attempt to make play clothes; hotel management might frown upon that).

Kudos to the owners of the villa, who have agreed to open the Van Trapp doors to travelers.

This might be my next big trip...

If You Think Your Flight Stunk...

...consider this man's journey from San Francisco to New York.

A New York man was traveling on a "buddy pass" with JetBlue -- this a pass that airline employees can hand off to friends and family for discounted and/or free seats on specific flights. The man was let on the flight, but apparently the JetBlue attendants didn't count seats properly. There were no seats left once the flight attendants took their own (and by the way, that's perfectly legitimate) so one flight attendant told the New York man he can sit in the jump seat.

The pilot of the JetBlue flight disagreed and said the jump seat is for personnel only. So the pilot sent the man to sit on the toilet for the duration of the flight.

And that's what you get for a discounted ticket.

Destination: St. Louis

Ah, the Midwest. The heartland of America. Blue collar work by day, bonfires by night. Everything you see in the movies, TV, news and photos from the Midwest is true: corn fields, cows and a lot of land. The people are friendlier, the land is cheaper and hard work is as common as cotton candy at a carnival.

I grew up in St. Louis -- not so much the country, but we did 4-wheel around the dirt and dunes in what's known as "the Bottoms" during high school. That's for another day. It's no secret, however, that I wasn't always fond of St. Louis. But that's where Mom, Dad, sister and Grama live, and so I travel back a few times a year. Don't judge... they enjoy coming to Boston so I do see my family more than a "few times" a year.

This weekend I travel back to the Midwest. Where everything is slower. They talk slower, they walk slower, they drive slower (except for my sister, she drives like she is in Manhattan fighting cabbies) -- they live slower. I duck into grocery stores and hide my face behind the produce to avoid running into people from high school. I look twice when I pull into a gas station to make sure an ex-boyfriend isn't sitting as cashier. After 48 hours I usually start itching; at 72 hours I'm in hives. God bless my family - they always have wine waiting.

Boycotting Gym Inflation

Everything is more expensive these days. Gas, homes, airline tickets, dairy - name it, and you're probably paying more for it. So it stands to reason that everyday amenities are going to rise, as well. It's simple economics. And while it's unfortunate that it costs more to live these days, that's just the fundamentals of living.

I must take a few moments today and veer from the fundamental of this blog so that I can vent one very valid frustration: The rising (and often ridiculous) costs associated with fitness centers and gyms. Only in America do you have to pay more to maintain your self-esteem via a healthy weight.

One of the side effects of traveling is weight gain. Sad to say, but over the years I've embraced good food and I often find it when I travel. To offset the carbs and calories, I do try and workout when I'm on the road. When I come home, most evenings are spent at the gym. After all, I am paying a monthly membership - I might as well make use of it. I've written columns about proper workout clothes, meeting singles at the gym, and even doing business at the gym. I am a fan of the gym.

But when the gym deliberately price gouges, I have to take a stand.

Case in point: Boston Sports Clubs

Case Study: The hidden fees of gyms.

Background: Boston Sports Club offers various memberships. We'll use mine as an example for this story. I pay $74 a month to belong to Boston Sports Clubs. My membership is considered the "Gold Membership" which means I choose a "home gym" that I can attend any day or time. I can only access other gyms during off-peak hours. I can see BSC's rational behind the varying degrees of memberships. You do have to limit the amount of people in order to avoid over-crowding.

My membership started at $70 a month and I was forced to sign a two-year contract and pay an initiation fee. Caveat: I could have signed a one-year contract, but the monthly membership dues were higher and I didn't get two free personal training sessions. So I signed on for two years. The price has risen $4 in two years. I can live with that, although I'll be honest, it's a little ridiculous. The price increase is due to "necessary gym maintenance". So why is there always a broken machine, not enough towels, and mold in the showers? Sadly, this isn't even the basis of my argument...

Situation: I think my Boston Sports Club "home gym" is a bit of a wreck. Some friends of mine, who are also Boston Sports Club members, belong to another BSC location near my neighborhood and suggested I switch my "home gym". I call to find out the procedure for making the switch.

The Boston Sports Club membership person (whose identity I'll protect) tells me that we can easily do the switch. It's a one-time processing fee of $39.99 and my monthly dues will go from $74 to $69.

"Oh," I say. "What's the $39 for, again?"

A processing fee, she tells me.

"If I want to come in after work and make the switch, is that possible?"

Oh yes, she says. "It will only take a second to switch you over."

Ok... STOP. Let's break that down:

It's a $39.99 "processing fee" for making a switch that will "only take a second."

Problem: I've always hated the idea of "initiation fees." It's a quick way to make money and it's completely useless, but all gyms do it and the most I can do is threaten not to sign up. In the end, we all pay. But when hidden fees are added to the process for the sake of simply screwing your customers, there is a problem.

As far as I can tell, there is no reason for a $39.99 processing fee for a process that takes "a second." You're asking me to pay you $39.99 for one second of your time. Some perspective:

A working member of society who makes $40/hour brings home approximately $83,200/year.
Boston Sports Club wants me to pay them $39.99/second. How many customers need to pay this fee for Boston Sports Club to be rich? This isn't hard math, folks.

Solution: A boycott. Why do gyms get away with these fees? Show me the poor sap who is slaving behind a machine that takes hours out of his day to click a drop-down menu from one person's profile in a computer and switch their "home gym", and I will pay you $39.99. Until then, no way.

I signed a two-year contract and the only way I can get out of my contract is to pay Boston Sports Club more money, which at this point I refuse to do. So I will honor my contract. It expires at the end of the August and you can be sure I won't renew. Gym inflation won't get the best of me. If you want me to pay extra fees, show me a clean gym with properly functioning machines and I will show you my credit card.

From now until August, I will make the most of my $74 a month. Maybe I'll actually lose the 10 lbs. I've been fighting off...

Countdown to Rome! T-26 Days

The countdown is on! Rome in under one month. I've been told packing for Rome is going to be complicated -- it's a city that delights in fashion, so while comfort is the way to go during the day, posh style is the way to go by night. I've gone spring shopping -- well, most of it's done, I have a few more pieces to buy -- and after I buy a few more pairs of spring/summer shoes I'm ready to go.

Caveat: I have a shoe addiction. It's bad. I have a spare room with a spare closet and it's full of spare shoes. One day years ago, my BFF Lynn made me promise that every time I buy a new pair of shoes, I have to throw out a current pair. I'm pleased to report that to date, I've kept my promise.

But the entire concept of shopping, packing and shoes got me thinking... what should I splurge on in Rome?

Here's one of my favorite travel tips: Always buy yourself something that reminds you of the place you're visiting. This can be something as little as a charm or large as an oil painting, but every time you look at your purchase you'll remember where you were when it was purchased.

I started a poll on this blog to get your opinions. Let me know what you think, and I just might go with the majority vote...

Quote of the Day (Maybe the Year)

I treated myself the Tina Fey/Amy Poehler movie, "Baby Mama" this weekend. A great simple pleasure: dark room, big tub of popcorn, good movie.

If you haven't seen the flick, it's worth the price of a movie. Tina Fey is a comic genius and the on-screen chemistry between Fey and Poehler is obvious and hilarious. But what's most compelling about this film is its reality. It's funny, no doubt, but it also tells the story of a very real woman:



She's in her 30s, she's focused on her career, she's more likely to get a promotion than a boyfriend, and she's looking for love.

But the quote of day belongs to Holland Taylor, who plays Kate's (Tina Fey) mother in the movie.

The scene:

Family dinner. Single Kate, married sister Caroline (played by Maura Tierney) and her husband and kids in toe. Kate starts talking about the problems she's having conceiving in-vitro, and both Mom and sister try convincing her that a successful career might just be the "baby" in Kate's life. Kate refuses to hear it and discusses the idea of hiring a surrogate. Aghast at the idea and not one to have to explain the situation to her friends, Mom (Taylor) replies,

"We've all been very supportive of your alternative lifestyle, Kate." And Kate replies (QUOTE OF THE DAY), "Being single is not an alternative lifestyle, Mom!"

Amen, Tina Fey!

Starting Over: The Right Size

This weekend was my "Spring Cleaning" weekend. A little late, I know, but it's the first weekend I haven't been travelling so I embraced the idea of a good cleaning. After reading MFTM's blog about her new summer clothes, I was inspired to take the Spring Cleaning to my closet.

It's a somewhat bittersweet task.

Over the past year, I've gained some unfortunate pounds around places I didn't know pounds could exist. Part of this has to with getting older, part of it is due to laziness, and part of it is due to the cardiologist. Last March, I was banned from the gym while the doctors figured out what was wrong with my heart, and how to fix it. After about 4 months, and various pill cocktails, things got under control. One pill a day to settle the arrhythmia -- back to the gym. But after 4 months out, it's not so easy to get back in. Obviously, I gained weight and sadly I haven't taken it all off. Enter today: the opening of the closet.

Everything from a size 4 to a size 10 lives in closet, smooshed together as if by osmosis they might become one size that fits me. Alas, the fabrics have not meshed to create the perfect wardrobe and so it's time to start cleaning.

After my recent Europe travels, I've adopted a European way of the wardrobe -- staples. Just a few pieces here and there that go with everything. A few tops, a few pants, a few skirts, a few casual pieces and mix-and-match. More importantly, I've opened my eyes to my size. As one friend put it,

"Why keep clothes in the closet that don't fit? Get rid of them all, that way when you open your closet in the morning to get dressed you know everything in there fits. It's a much better way to start the day."

So true. Knowing your clothes fit -- no matter what your size -- does wonders for the mind. So does a new hair color... the red streaks are back and brighter than ever.

BON JOVI!!! Bon JO-VI! Bon Jovi.

My Friday is complete. My Bon Jovi is coming to concert.

Don't make fun -- you know you have a dirty little fascination with something from the 80s, too.

Tickets aren't on sale, yet. They will be, though. And I will be there when they go on sale. Fighting the busy signal on the phone and powering through the DSL line. There are simple pleasures, people. Bon Jovi is one of mine. (Ok, some might say Bon Jovi is a fascination, but for the sake of the blog let's call it a simple pleasure.)

Now...where did I put my bright yellow "Slippery When Wet" concert t-shirt from 1987...

Waga-My-Heart-Out

I realize I'm a little late in the game here, but understand that my diet consists of whatever isn't moldy, bruised, smelly or sticking in my fridge. I always have a Power Bar and a banana near my desk at work or in my bag on-the-go. So when my co-workers shout out, "I'm ordering lunch from _____" I usually perk up (if I haven't just stuffed a Power Bar in my mouth).

Today, the _____ was "Wagamama" -- a noodle bar in Faneuil Hall. Originally a UK company, Wagamama hit the Boston scene last year and like most restaurants in Faneuil Hall, I dismissed it as another tourist trap. In most cases I am spot on. Today, I admit I was wrong. Wagamama is my new favorite place.

I was skeptical at first. The section of the menu called "Ramen" brought me back to freshman year of college. The boxes of Ramen noodles were piled up along the wall -- three a day, one and a half minutes in the microwave. When you bought in bulk, the little noodle soups came to about 15 cents each. Not bad for a broke college kid. But after a year of Ramen noodles, you swear you'll never eat them again. Ever.

Today, I ordered the Vegetarian Ramen Noodle bowl. It arrived on my desk approximately one hour ago, and I'm still trying to get through the endless bowl of whole wheat noodles, vegetable broth and fresh vegetables. It's 32 ounces of pure veggie delight on a cold rainy day. It's healthy, and it has more taste than my Power Bar.

Weekend Plans: Alone Time

Some people fear being alone. I embrace it. I love my family and friends, but sometimes you just need a little alone time. This weekend, for the first time in many weekends, I'm at home.

On the agenda:

Movies, wine, take-out.
Time out for hair color/cut.
The gym.

This week has been true test of patience - personally and professionally - and the rainy, dreary outside doesn't do much to lift the spirits. But, that's what weekends are for - rejuvination and reconcilation. Start Monday fresh. Don't forget to call home on Sunday and wish Mom a happy Mother's Day!

The next few weekends include the following:

Fly to St. Louis

Visits from friends in NYC

Weekend in Nantucket

Leave for Rome

One Martini, Two Martinis, Three Martinis...Home

How many martini's does it take before you fall down? Or start seeing prostitutes?

Let me explain...

There are good weeks at the job and there are frustrating weeks. When the weeks of wrath hit, one goes drinking. Well, probably not logical people but I never said I was one so...

After the Duke's Hotel martini's in London, I've become somewhat of an addict. I've rekindled my love affair with the original dirty and I'm a better woman for it. So at 5 p.m. yesterday my co-workers and I closed down the computers, packed up our bags and headed toward Boston's Back Bay to The Oak Room at the Fairmont Plaza Hotel.

Setting: Tall mahogany wood walls, red velvet drapes that hang from ceiling to floor, wooden circular tables flanked with plush velvet chairs. There's a grand piano in the middle of the room. The clientele is mainly business men in suits celebrating a recent deal or sorrowing over a lost account. Every once in a while you'll see an out-of-town family of four walk through the bar on their way to the Oak Room's full service dining area.

We arrived around 6 p.m. and found a table to drop our bags and bodies. The server came over with menu's and we each chose a martini to quench the thirst and cover-up the chaos from the day. One drink down... another one ordered...

Drink two:
MFTM announced she's allowed to hang with me any time because when she goes home to The Husband, he doesn't have to beg for sex. I'm still trying to figure out why that is this case and if that was a compliment. And is this a skill I can market?

Drink three:
MFTM saw a prostitute. She said. We weren't there. Bail was outside text messaging her husband, begging him to pick her up. I was in the washroom, which, after three martini's at the Oak Room, seems like a mile away. When we came back to the table, MFTM said we just missed the prostitute leaving with a short bald man. And Bail realized she just told her husband to meet her at the wrong bar.

Thankfully, all parties arrived home safely. Sometimes the simple pleasure of a martini helps smooth over a day gone wrong.

U.S. Travel: 7 Wonders of the USA

Good Morning America is helping Americans find a way to travel without breaking the bank. Just because the U.S. dollar is weak against the Euro and British Pound doesn't mean you need to stay in. Take a trip around America -- head out into your own backyard -- and explore the 7 Wonders of the U.S., as defined by a GMA panel of experts. Save your dollars and plan a summer trip to explore these wondrous sites.

(Grand Canyon photo)

The Joys of Jetlag

Your head is fuzzy.
Your eyes are blurry.
The body moves a few beats slower than your brain.

I wonder if I'm slurring my words?

Some say the amount of days you travelled is the same amount of days it will take your body to recover from the jetlag. With that logic, I should be back to normal on Friday. I'm trying to push myself but I'm so.....damn.....tired.

Things I should be doing:

• Going to the gym
• Doing laundry
• Cleaning the apartment
• Buying Mother's Day cards
• Writing articles for work

Things I want to do:
Sleep

I have my coffee, tea, chocolate -- that's a good combo of caffeine and sugar to give me a boost on a normal day. On jetlag days, that combo doesn't do anything but add calories to my diet.

I have a plan: Go home and nap. Wake up, take a Tylenol PM, go back to bed until morning. Should have body/mind back to normal tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

Roman Holiday

The Hotel Homs will be expecting us in June. We booked today and it's official -- Rome in June!

MFTM is practically packed. I'll admit I ordered a few choice article of clothing online last night in anticipation of the trip. My mind is still jet-lagged, my body is still 5 hours ahead of me, but I'm ready to get back on a plane and fly to Rome.

"We're going to find you a hot guy to take you around Rome on a Vespa," said MFTM.

Right on, sister. Sign me up.

Back to the Grind

I miss the coffee in England. I ordered a cafe Americano at Pete's this morning and it simply was not the same. It was watery and warm - not hot and strong. It was a rather depressing way to start my morning.

I walked into the office at 7 a.m. (way too early, but my body is still adapting to US time) and I'm still attempting to wake up (it's 10:30 a.m.) My co-workers welcomed me back to the office with a bouquet of tulips. God bless the USA.

Ciao, Rome!

Tuscany may be cancelled, but Rome is on! MFTM (my friend The Missus) re-arranged our flights this morning and we're heading to Rome.

MFTM fell in love with Rome years ago when she visited and has always wanted to go back. I guess everything happens for a reason. Ironic that I started this blog/book with Rome in mind. Conforming to cultures is essential in the search for paradise, and now I get to blend in with the culture that started it all.


Things to do in Rome:

• Visit the Vatican
• Enjoy as many outdoor cafes as I can
• Write as much as I can from the outdoor cafes
• Tour the museums
• Climb the Spanish Steps
• Kiss an Italian man atop the Spanish Steps (must be cute, young and adorable)
• Throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain to ensure another trip back to the Eternal City

**Additional things to do: Drink lots of wine!

Elmo Explains the War in Iraq

Daytime television for kids is more advanced than ABC's and counting in Spanish. America's favorite children's show, Sesame Street, has taken on a complex topic: the War in Iraq. Elmo and his sidekick Rosita launched a new DVD series, "Talk, Listen, Connect: Deployments, Homecomings, Changes," in which the Sesame Street puppets teach children of military families how to cope when a parent is deployed, or when a parent returns home wounded from war.

I'm trying to wrap my head around this concept. On the one hand, it makes sense for kids to try and learn about the war from the Muppet's and cartoons they are familiar with and trust. The concept of the DVDs encourage children to talk to their parents about their feelings and share their emotions. And that's the most important lesson you can teach a child. But, on the other hand, should we just allow kids to be kids and enjoy counting with The Count, or laughing with Oscar? There is a fine line between childhood and reality -- at what point do we cross that line?

Sunday Morning Syndrome

Few things are better than a lazy Sunday morning. Especially after a long week of travel. It's raining in Boston this morning and I've got Sunday Morning Syndrome - I don't want to get out of my bed. Unfortunately, this will get complicated since there is no one here to brew me coffee.

Last night I enjoyed a wonderful dinner at Taranta, a lovely Italian-Peruvian restaurant in my neighborhood. My friends and I took the European approach to dinner and upon arriving at our table we informed our server that we would be having a nice long, leisurely dinner. No problem, she said, and we sat back and relaxed. After a bottle of wine and table of tuna steaks, espresso-crusted filet's, and antipasto, we called it a night.

I think my body is still adjusting to the time zone changing -- I came home and immediately crawled into bed. Now I'm enjoying the quiet sounds of a Sunday morning.

Stupid Human Tricks and Airline Games

There were a few interesting observations I jotted down during my flight to and from London. But I really want to highlight two things: stupid human tricks and airline games. Let's start with the stupid humans.

What Not To Do On An Airplane, Part I: Keep Your Bum to Yourself

It's important to keep in mind that coach class is tiny. It is the biggest section of the plane, but it is also the most compact. The aisles in coach class are only wide enough to allow your carry-on to fit the length. That means you have approximately 14 inches of space to work with in the aisles, depending on the type of plane. It's only natural that when you stand up, you attempt to maneuver yourself in the best possible way to make the most of the 14 inches you have to work with. But you forget, stupid human, that there are other people around you.

Syndrome: Bum in Face

Example: Passenger in 35H stands up and turns clockwise to allow passenger in 35I out of the row.

Result: The clockwise movement turns the passenger so that the stupid passenger's bum is now in the face of the passenger across the aisle.

The passenger in the unfortunate seat to receive your bum is not amused by this. In fact, the urge to stick things in the culprit bum is hard to fight. Especially, when the bum is only half covered because of low-rise jeans.

RED ALERT WARNING: Some people are so stupid they turn counter-clockwise and instead of a bum in your face, you are stuck with the unmentionable. At this point, you have reason to throw to a G-d damn fit.

The Solution: When you stand up, stay facing forward. If you do turn clockwise and your bum appears in the face of another passenger, it is that passenger's right to start spanking.


Airline Games Part I: It's All About the Money, Honey
Airlines are in business to make money - bottom line. So it stands to reason that when passenger A asks for another seat in another class, airline A asks for more money. Fair enough. The question, however, is how much money.

$5,000 was the lucky fare on the London flights.

Story: It's always fair game to ask for an upgrade -- if you don't ask, you might be stuck in coach when a big comfy seat remains empty for the remainder of the flight. But, you should be prepared to pay. Usually, you will simply pay an upgrade fee but some airlines will institute the new ticket rule and you'll be stuck paying for a brand new ticket at the current day-of price.

Stay with me...

When I approached the ticket counter in London and asked for an upgrade seat I was given the standard $5,000 line that I had heard before. So I asked, "What happened to the airline upgrade fee?" And the agent replied, "That's still in effect only if coach class is full, so you might want to ask at check-in if you can upgrade." Fair enough.

Check-in: Gay man straight from the Botox office pumped full of collagen in his lips welcomes me to Flt 155 to Boston. I politely ask Balloon Lips for an upgrade. He says, "How would you like to pay?" I said, "I'll pay cash for an upgrade." You can often cash in points, but I knew I didn't have enough airline points to use so cash it was. He said, "That will be 2,500 pounds." (converted: $5,000). Give me a freaking break!

"I spoke with the agent and bla, bla, bla...$250...was already bumped from my seat...bla, bla, bla," and Balloon Lips said, "You can talk with my colleague, but it's $5,000."

I take my coach class ticket and walk to the seating counter desk to "talk with my colleague." A little blond pony-tailed hair girl greats me.

"Good day, Ma'am, how can I help you?" I tell her my story. I'm bumped from a flight, I want a better seat and my friend, too, and I'm willing to pay the upgrade fee but I KNOW I don't have to pay for a new ticket.

"There are no more seats left, Ma'am. The flight is completely full."

Wait... what?????? Balloon lips just told me there were seats available if I wanted to pay $5,000. Confused, I go back to my seat and share the story with my travel friend.

She says, "So, let me get this straight. If I want to give you $5,000 you'll upgrade me to another seat. But if I don't, then suddenly the flight is full?"

Yes, it appears that is indeed the airline game in place. What an amazing way to make money.

Checkpoint: Home

I arrived last night at 8:03 p.m. local time (1:03 a.m. London time). I was exhausted. I wanted a shower. Someone had horrible body odor on the plane. I wanted out. Finally, the cabin doors opened and I was set free. Off to customs, which surprising wasn't that long considering it was an evening international flight. We dragged our airplane-smelling bodies through the customs line.

"Ma'am," the customs official called to my friend the Missus. She walked to line 7.

Seconds later I got the universal finger movement that signals, "come here," and I walked passed the Missus to line number 9. She giggled, "HA! He called you young lady!"
"He called you Ma'am," I said back.

After waiting in line 9 I was finally called forward for re-entry into the U.S. Oh, but you only think it would be easy right? After the long week of work, the weary nights, and the cold showers (when the showers worked), you would think re-entry into the U.S. would be a breeze. In fact, it was likely the customs officials would have held up a sign that said, "Welcome home!" when they saw me, and paraded me through customs on their shoulders. There would be balloons and music and everyone would be celebrating my return. But no. I got the one customs official who wanted to play "mess with the tired chic" at the customs line. It's got to be funny, f---ing with people when their minds are on a completely different timezone.

"Where were you?" he asked.
"London." I said. I could see my bed hair reflected in his bald head.
"Business or pleasure." He wanted to know.
"Business," I told him.
"What do you do?"
"I'm a travel writer."
"What did you write this week?"
"Nothing," I replied, and was met with a blank stare. This, I realized, was the wrong answer.
"You're a travel writer in London on business and you didn't write anything?" he asked, his bald head mocking me.
"That's right," I said. "I was stuck in meetings with our corporate office most of the week and didn't get any writing completed."
Blank stare. Blank stare. Blank stare. Passport scan.
"Bring anything back?" He asked.
"Nope." I said.
" Nothing?" He asked.
"Nope." I said.
"No tobacco, no alcohol, no fruit?" He questioned.
"No, no and no." I replied, trying to fight off the urge to jump over the desk and mark all over his bald head.

He stared at me a little while longer, then looked at my passport again. Finally, and I think with a slight hesitation, the bald man at the U.S. re-entry checkpoint said the two words I had been waiting for, "Welcome home."

Things to Love in London

I've said before that London is one of my favorite cities. The city is full of class and "regal-ness" and it's hard not to get caught up in it all.

It was a busy week, but a worthwhile one. When you've worked in America long enough, it's hard to imagine that anywhere else in the world works differently. What is common among most other cultures - as opposed to America -- is the mindset. In America, we live to work. In most other countries, work is for money, and life is for living. It's an interesting concept to embrace.

I'm packed and ready to leave London but before I do, some thoughts on things to love in London:

• The coffee -- it's brewed fresh by the cup and it's strong.
• The taxi cabs -- they are big, they are clean and the cab drivers are uncommonly friendly.
• The communication -- London will always remind you to look both ways before crossing the street.
• The bathrooms -- inviting. Public bathrooms in London are unusually clean and always have nice soaps and lotions (as opposed to the pink-turned-brown soap usually found in public bathrooms throughout America).
• The shopping -- it's unique and fashionable, and you rarely find two of the same items.
• The architecture -- everything here is regal. Whether it's old or new, the buildings are fascinating.
• The history -- the people of London take their culture and history very seriously. It's a pleasure to be among people who walk with pride and dignity.

So long London! Cheerio and good day!
(pictures below)

Diana, Princess of Wales, Memorial:

Buckingham Palace:

The Original Burberry Store:

Guard at the Tower of London:

Tower Bridge:

7 Hours Left in London...

...and I'm lying in bed with my laptop. If I click my heels three times will I be home?

Flight Cancelled. Martini's Found.

It's the end of the day. 5 p.m. We're winding down (because that's what time they wind down in the UK) and we're looking forward to spending our last night snuggled up with a dry martini at Duke's. That's when it hits. The email. It's from American Airlines. This can't be good.

The email says, "There has been a cancellation on your forthcoming reservation with American Airlines." Unbelievable. It's been a long week of work in London and while I do love London, I was looking forward to getting home tomorrow. I need my bed, my shower, my candles, my pillows, my stuff. I also learned today that the neighborhood I live in suffered a massive power outage so I hope my apartment is in one piece, but fingers crossed...

I call the number American Airlines provides in the email and I wait patiently for 25 minutes. My patience level was reaching its max (I am now 25 minutes late for martinis) when finally, a representative gets on the line. Apparently, the plane is having "mechanical problems" and they've reschedule us for a later flight. Question: it's only noon in America... how do you know the plane is having mechanical problems for a flight that doesn't leave for another 24 hours, and wouldn't that give the airlines enough time to find another flight? Whatever.

News get worse: the flight is full and we're in the middle row. I tried to persuade the voice on the other line for an upgrade, but he wasn't budging. Wait, let me clarify that... he would gladly budge if I gave him $3,000 for an upgrade fee. I stopped short of begging for a business class seat -- there were still people in the office. Currently scheduled to leave London Friday night at 6 p.m. Stay tuned for more.

Later that night... about two hours later... we found ourselves at the Dukes Hotel ordering martinis and sucking on olives. If you ever find yourself in London for one night, head to Dukes Hotel and order a house martini. It's the best you've ever had, and the olives are to die for. The bill was 35 pounds (approximately $70) but don't think about that... ever.

London: Day 6

One more day in the U.K.
This morning, I finally got my hot shower. It wasn't raining when I walked to the office and the coffee shop pulled hot scones out of the oven just minutes before I ordered.
Typical how it all falls together the day before I head home.

Tonight, we're venturing to the Dukes Hotel for a much-needed-job-well-done martini.
Tomorrow, 7 a.m., we head back home.