Fine Dining Isn't Always Fine

Eleven hours after leaving my hotel in Naples, I arrived home hungry and slightly nauseous after a bumpy landing.  My butt was sore from sitting too long and I felt annoyed by all aspects of flying.  Waiting, standing in line, loading the plane like cattle and managing claustrophobia with far too many humans in one place.  Could they jam a few more seats in there?  With all the advances we have made in technology, our current method of flying people around the world feels more and more antiquated.  Or maybe I'm just cranky.  Probably that.

One of the hardest things about traveling is compromising my food routine.  I wouldn't call myself a food snob (onion rings and a Cobb salad make me happy on the road), but I do want what I want, when I want it.  'Food brat' is more accurate.  In Naples, we went to nice restaurants at night, which was mildly satisfying, but the food/drink pacing was all off.   On the first night, for example, they took my drink order shortly after we were seated.  Twenty minutes later, my Chardonnay arrived.  Twenty minutes after that, they took my food order.  Much later, my wine was almost gone.  Then came my dinner.  I asked for another glass of wine at the same time, because I knew my first glass would be gone in two more sips.  I ate painfully slow, making conversation and trying to love my duck gnocchi as I waited for my wine (they didn't have onion rings).  When I was nearly done with my meal, and others were already on dessert, my second glass of wine finally arrived.  By then I was pouting and didn't want it anymore, so I left half a glass in protest. 

Yup, definitely cranky.  And lame.

Fortunately, B-man understands my love affair with food, and walking into the house after a long trip home was a visual and aromatic delight.  Waiting for me was grilled salmon, tilapia and shrimp along with spaghetti and my favorite spicy sauce.  Plus crusty bread with olive oil dip, steamed broccoli and roasted cabbage that was crispy on the edges and tender in the middle. 

And wine whenever I wanted.  Now that's what I call fine dining.

Image from friasproperties.com

Ode to Naples

 

My hotel in Naples

 

Impending Rain

Geranium

Overripe Fruit

Roller Coaster

Tobacco

Clean Sweat

Money 

 

Image from merchantcircle.com

 

Perfume In Naples and on Airplanes

Tonight, I arrived in Naples, Florida to attend a meeting that includes a small, exclusive group of industry leaders that do the same thing I do. We meet twice a year at posh, fun locations (the last two were Park City and Napa Valley) and spend an intense 36 hours together sharing information during the day and drinking good wine and eating elegant food in the evenings.  

This is my first time in Naples, so of course, I tried to bring perfumes that might represent Florida, and I'd like to buy a perfume that captures Naples while I'm here. After a long day of travel, however, both me and Daphne are tired, so even though I've been out wandering the streets tonight, I can't get a clear feel of the essence of Naples.  Tomorrow morning, I'm heading to the beach - an easy stroll from my hotel.

Since my SOP (B-man taught me this military term, Standard Operating Procedure, and I use it every chance I get because it makes me feel important) requires that I take multiple decants/samples and small size perfumes, here's what I have with me:

Diptique L'eau des Hesperides
Diptique 34 blvd Saint Germain
Al Rehab Bakhour
J-Lo Miami Glow
Lancôme La vie est belle
Jessica Simpson I Fancy You
Marc Jacobs Daisy Eau so Fresh
Versace Crystal Noir
Bvlgari Voile de Jasmin
Salvatore Ferragamo Tuscan Soul

And, btw, I'm no longer banning perfume on the airplane, although I try to keep it respectful and pleasant. Besides, this is another perfect way I can use up my B&BW products, as none of them are overwhelming in the universal scope of perfume strength.  This morning, I wore Twilight Woods lotion, Warm Vanilla Sugar body spray and Twisted Peppermint hand cream.  It was perfect.  Oh - plus Sweet Peony shiny hair spray.  I smelled divine in this unsophisticated, 'I'm so friendly and approachable' sort of way.  I consider this a gracious response to the BO/dirty hair/fart sillage that permeates airplane travel.  We all do what we need to do, right?

Any tips or inside scoop for perfume shopping in Naples?

Image from realestatesalesnyc.com

If You're Gonna To Buy It, You Gotta Use It

Inner Farm Girl and Inner Critic have joined forces.  Together, they have decided that if I'm going to buy like a mad woman at the Bath and Body Works semi-annual sale, I better figure out how to use it.  It's the only way they will unfold their arms and stop glaring.  God, they just wear you down.

Somehow, I ended up with a full dresser drawer of lotions, body sprays, travel size stuff and mini perfumes.  I've learned that different items are offered at different times through the 3-week sale, so one trip just isn't going to cut it.  On my last visit, I walked through the door and the SA said, 'Wow, you're back again.'  Damn right I'm back.

Plus, I change my mind about stuff.  For example, I ended up with tons of Midnight Path products: body lotion, body spray, eau de toilette, body oil and body butter.  Later, I figured out that MP was best to sleep in.  In fact, it's amazing sleep lotion.  Not so much a day lotion.  So I had to take some of it back and swap for other stuff.  Some of which I also took back and swapped for other stuff.  Hey, is 100% satisfaction guaranteed or not?  Says so right on the receipt.

After realizing that I would have to up my consumption to use the lotions (at least!) before the next sale in June, I began a new morning ritual that's actually working quite well.  Here's how it goes:

First, I work out early in the morning (starting at 4:45 - 5:00).  Wait, let me define 'work out.'  This consists of walking leisurely on the treadmill for up to 20 minutes while I drink a large glass of my water/juice blend. Then, I do a few stretches if I don't change my mind, and top off this vigorous session with a downward dog that is downright embarrassing.  You can imagine the sweat.

After coming upstairs, I lotion my whole body with - say - Forever Sunshine lotion.  Then I top that with Pink Chiffon body oil, after which I apply Honey Sweetheart sparkling body spray.  I put on my favorite sweats and settle in on big red for coffee.  Imagine those gloves you wear to bed after greasing up your hands.  Same concept, but full body.  Each day, I change up these combos but in the end, I always smell amazing.  B-man will make some comment, like 'you always smell amazing!'  See, that's how I know.  By the time I shower and get ready for work, my skin is soft and Daphne, my nose, is ready to take on the world.

Inner Farm Girl is feeling comfortable enough to go about her business, but Inner Critic is hanging back, squinting at me like he doesn't quite trust this plan.  Dude, relax and unfold your arms. 

image from kottke.org

Is Perfume Seasonal? Yes...Except When It's Not

Like all good perfumistas, I have spring perfumes, summer perfumes, fall perfumes and winter perfumes.  Sometimes I arrange them in my cabinet to reflect this so that my choices will be narrowed as I'm running late for work.  It's a foolproof way to ensure that I wear the appropriate perfume during the appropriate season for as long as it's appropriate.

That's such crap.

Take today, for example.  It's cold, not bitter cold, but barely warm enough for me to leave without a coat this morning. (In my defense, I keep a coat in the trunk of my car, a blue anorak number that goes with absolutely nothing I wear and would look hideous should I get stranded on the side of the road.)  Still, I get full credit for having the damn coat. 

Anyway, as I'm showering and mentally sorting through my perfumes - the winter perfumes, of course - I can think of nothing at all that lights me up.  Yes, it is a perfect White Aoud day, but snore.  Mauboussin is certainly a contender because its smokiness would mirror the lung destroying substance we call air in our city.  Or maybe Queen by Queen Latifah, one of my favorite cheap chocolate and patchouli loves.  Suddenly, they all seem too...I don't know, wintry.

Then it hits me - I want coconut.  Yup, tropical and spicy, warm and summery coconut.  So I slather on coconut body butter from the Body Shop and reach into the back of my middle shelf for Versace's Crystal Noir.  All day, I catch whiffs of my loveliness until I go to a meeting at 3:00 and get out-sillaged by a colleague wearing Angel.  What the hell? To make matters worse, it is beautiful on her and I spend the whole meeting wishing I had obeyed the rules and worn something January-ish that could trump all competing sillage in the board room. 

The quest for airspace supremacy lives on, seasonal or otherwise.

Image from marketingessentialsblog.wordpress.com

No Pain in January

January this year feels like most Januarys in a lot of ways:  I'm chubby, I hate my hair and I'm wondering what to do with the rest of my life.  Same old.

But there's good stuff, too.  I have a new great nephew and, after much procrastination, B-man got his hernia repaired.  I know - these things don't exactly belong in the same sentence.  But after all we went through with Dad, this minor procedure was a bigger deal than it should have been, and I caught a little PTSD waiting for B-man's surgeon to come and tell me all was well.  Thank God we were home before happy hour.

B-man apparently doesn't understand that he's supposed to have at least some pain after surgery.  He's also getting used to my Mother Hen approach to healing.

Me: Are you sure you're not in any pain?

B-man:  A little achiness, but nothing I need medication for.

Me:  Are you sure?  Because I could cut your pain meds in half - or even in quarters.

B-man:  No, I don't need it.

Me:  Okay, but you're not working out or doing anything strenuous.

B-man:  I know, but I'm going to walk Paige.

Me:  No, I'll walk Paige.

B-man:  They said to judge my activity by pain.  And I heard them say walking is good.

Me:  You were still loopy from the anesthesia.

B-man:  I felt fine.

Me: You asked if it was a bad idea to do a happy dance.

B-man:  I would have, too.

Me:  I don't trust your freakish pain tolerance to know that you're healing.

B-man:  I feel pretty normal.

Me:  Nice try, but you've never been normal.

B-man:  Look, I'll cut Paige's walk short and take my phone in case I need your help.

Me:  Promise to stop in your tracks and call for a ride if you get tired, feel pain, or just want to.

B-man:  I promise, Mommy.

His walk was fine, and I fully expect him to ignore my motherly warnings and go about his life.  I have worn him down to the point that he has committed to a week of exercise that only includes walking Paige every morning.  That's a major win.  Now if I can just figure out what to do with my hair.

Image from mirianda.com

Ready for a New Year & More Bath & Body Works

The holidays were a blur this year and I don't remember a time when I was more relieved to see them go. Thank God for my family, my work, good food and the Bath & Body Works semi-annual sale.

Throughout the past months, I've sniffed more than ever...it was the only way to distract my mind and rest instead of worry about Dad or worry about work or just worry in general.  I'm not a worrier by nature, so now I hope to settle back into my own groove.  If I can just remember what it is.

This morning over coffee I wore Twisted Peppermint by B&BW.  Twisted seems appropriate.

Image from Bath & Body Works website