What I Learned at 35,000 feet

I generally do whatever I can to avoid redeyes because they turn me in an absolute zombie for the entire next day and sometimes even beyond that. But this week, I didn't really have a choice, so I showed up at the San Jose airport last night ready to climb on a 10:00 pm flight headed east.

Unfortunately, the inbound flight had been re-routed to Denver because of a medical emergency on board, so by the time the plane did make its way to NoCal, we were already almost three hours behind schedule, finally departing San Jose at 1:00 am PT.

I don't often sleep on planes, even in the middle of night, and this trip was no exception. I managed to get about an hour and a half of restless sleep in the middle of flight, but was jostled awake by some pretty aggressive turbulence somewhere over Iowa.

Thanks to JetBlue's promise of 36 DirectTV channels at every seat, I at least wasn't sitting wide awake for 5 hours with nothing to do. In the darkened cabin with my little TV screen glowing in front of me, I caught up on a couple of original Law & Order episodes and as a result, was exposed to a number of commercials that would NEVER make primetime.

(As an aside, I have to say that I was kind of thrilled (in a deliriously tired sort of way) to find the original Law & Order episodes since Ben Stone, played by Michael Moriarty, is my favourite L&O character ever. Now, apparently I can find him on TNT at 3:00 am if I'm in dire need of hearing him deftly negotiate a plea bargain.)

But back to the commercials. It turns out that while most of us are peacefully slumbering, the Chia Pet has quietly taken a stranglehold on late-night TV and is now promoting all sorts of product extensions this holiday season. I saw ads for the standard Chia Pet, but also for Chia Garfield (the fat orange tabby seems to also be making a comeback), Chia Scooby Doo and Chia Shaggy. Ok, not such a stretch for those (remember Chia Mr. T? I pity da fool!), but THEN I saw a commercial that I thought must have been one of those Saturday Night Live spoofs.

Get this -- You can buy a product called "Chia Cat Grass". You get a little ceramic planter (decorated with Sylvester and Tweety Bird of course!) and within said planter, you can grow this amazingly fast growing grass that is supposedly going to solve the problem of your cat tipping over and generally making a mess of your other potted plants. (Not ever having owned a house cat, I had no idea this was even an issue.) Never mind that now you've introduced something that looks like your worst neighbour's yard after months of neglect into your home. Yeah, THAT's progress.

You can also buy Chia herb gardens. But really, would you ever actually eat ANYTHING grown as a Chia??

Oh, and by the way, I did a little Google search on Chia Pets and imagine my lack of surprise that the same company who brought us the Chia empire is also responsible for the Clapper.... and its ridiculously annoying, droning jingle.

Aside from the Law & Order element, I will be quite happy to avoid middle-of-the-night TV for the foreseeable future and let the Chia's multiply without any of my support, either moral or financial.

Ch- Ch- Ch- Chia!

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

It is exactly one week before Christmas.

And on top of those seven days, there are approximately 6,000 miles still separating me from a day full of my mom's great cooking and baking, cuddle time with Special K, non-stop Christmas music and with any luck, something fun on TV like "It's a Wonderful Life".

I'll be praying to the weather and airline gods that all my flights get me where I need to be over the next few days, landing me (and Special K) with my parents late, late, late on December 23.

Jokes from a Neurosurgeon

I met Ann and Spiros through Nick and Reny. Ann is an attorney, Spiros is a neurosurgeon and they both possess a sense of humour that has me (and everyone else who happens to be present) doubled over in laughter more often than not. At Sunday brunch at a Vietnamese restaurant a couple of months ago (by the way, this is got to be one of the best dining deals in ANY of the boroughs – 5 of us ate copious amounts of food for only $80 total), I remember laughing non-stop as Spiros recounted the ingenuity of a group of smart but mischievous medical residents (he was, of course, one of them) who were constantly raising the stakes with a series of creative practical jokes.

Once, they took every single pair of pants one their friends owned and had them all hemmed so they were 2 – 3 inches too short. Another time, they had neon under car lighting installed on the undercarriage of someone else’s car. The owner of the newly “accessorized” vehicle drove around for months, having no idea his car was glowing purple each and every night.

So, at a dinner party the other night when Spiros began passing around his iPhone, saying “Check this photo out!”, I figured it would probably be something pretty funny.

But remember, Spiros is also a neurosurgeon, so when Nick cocked his head to the side while looking at the photo and said “where’s the rest of this guy’s head?”, I quickly abandoned my place in the photo-viewing queue.

Nick Knacks

I know a lot of Nicks in New York. Honestly, I think I know more Nicks since I moved to NY than I have at any time previously. I feel like I should rewrite that old Kids in the Hall song “These are the Dave’s I Know”. My version would be:

These are the Nicks I know I know
These are the Nicks I know
Some of them are Nicholas
But most of them are Nick

New York – Home of the Knicks…and the Nicks!

"The Saddest Thing in Life is Wasted Talent. Don't Waste Yours."

I was able to entice Special K to the Big Apple this past weekend with tickets to "A Bronx Tale" on Broadway. (Well, I think it was actually ME that was the enticing part and the Broadway tix were just gravy.)

"A Bronx Tale" was originally a one-man show, written and performed by Chazz Palminteri for the stage. After runs in both Los Angeles and off-Broadway, Palminteri adapted the story into the screenplay which gave Robert de Niro his directorial debut. Now, almost 15 years after the film was produced, "A Bronx Tale" is finally on Broadway for a limited run.

If you've seen the movie (or were lucky enough to see the original stage production), you know it's the story of a young boy who has to make tough choices and each choice shapes the direction of his life's path. Palminteri is absolutely riveting in this performance with brilliant timing, delivery and an uncanny ability to convey a number of complex and convincing characters.

Like I said, it's only playing for a limited time, so get tickets while you can!

From the Mouths of Babes

I flew into San Diego on Monday night and was actually pretty lucky because the flight was only about two-thirds full, so I had all three seats in my section to myself. Score! That really helped make up for the hour we spent on the tarmac at JFK before take-off ("Ladies and gentlemen, there are 30 other aircraft in line ahead of us to take off.") and the loooooong cross-country east-to-west flight. (Honestly, traveling from east to west feels like you are never going to get there.)

I straggled into the hotel at about 1:30 am ET, dragging my bags and my proverbial you-know-what. I got into the elevator with a woman who had a small, tow-headed boy by the hand. He was happily chatting away about everything and nothing at the same time when I heard the word "shoes", but thought he was referring to his own fun little printed canvas runners. But then, he took a deliberate step forward, turned his sunny, open face up to me and with more enthusiasm than I'd heard in a long time, said "You have cool shoes!" (which sounded more like "shooooooz", all wrapped up in the adorable timbre of a nearly three-year old.)

I burst out laughing and we spent the remainder of the elevator ride comparing our cool shoes.

I think I was probably sharing the elevator with a future Stuart Weitzman.

The Cure for Insomnia

My constant trips between New York and California have put my body and mind into a land of timezone confusion. When I go to California, I'm getting tired by 9:00 or 10:00 at night because it's midnight or later in New York. Conversely, when I come back to New York, I find myself lying in bed until 2:00 in the morning blinking at the darkened ceiling, unable to fall asleep, even after reading and watching mindless TV.

That's what this whole week has been like. Until last night, that is.

Nick, Oda, Ally and I went to a Mexican restaurant down the street after work for dinner and drinks. (We abandoned the 2-for-1 margarita place at the last minute because it was too cold to walk that far.) After an evening of belly laughs, tableside-prepared guacamole (and Nick being super impressed that I actually make my own guacamole from time to time), and gooey enchiladas and nachos, we parted ways. I went home and flopped into bed and was dead asleep by midnight.

The cure for my insomnia? Frozen strawberry margaritas with Patron tequila, of course!

The Cable Company STILL Sucks

I came home tonight and turned on the TV to catch some news and/or entertainment while I had a bite of dinner. I bet you know what's coming, don't you? (The headline kind of gives it away, doesn't it?) Well, if your guess is that my cable is once again NOT WORKING, you'd be dead right.

When they switched me over to IPTV, they assured me that this would be much better. Apparently, it is NOT.

My customer service "community manager" and I are now exchanging Christmas cards because we've become so close over the past few months.

Honestly, cable people, get it TOGETHER.

I'm Huge in Cincinnati

Special K called me out of the blue at work on Friday because Cincinnati Bob had just called him with a funny story. Cincinnati Bob is, as you may have guessed, a good friend of Special K's ... who lives in .... well, Cincinnati.

Cinci Bob was picking up his car from the mechanic's shop and while in the waiting room with one of the mechanics whom he's known for years, they ended up flipping through an issue of Redbook. (I have no idea why they were flipping through Redbook and not say, Popular Mechanics... but ANYWAY.)

It turned out to be the issue that my Dove ad was in and Bob off-handedly said, "Oh, I know her."

"NO WAY. You do not!" was the obvious reply.

"Yeah, I do -- she's my buddy's girlfriend. Her name is Shari."

"DUDE!?!?!?"

"Seriously."

And just like that, I am known in the most elite of auto shop circles in Oh-H-ten.

Duvet -- Put To Bed Permanently

Remember Duvet, the hipster club featuring giant beds as part of its decor? I just saw on the news that the club has been permanently shut down (by court order) because a 25-year old man was stabbed to death in the club back on November 23.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

I have a sinking feeling that this winter is not going to be as mild and managable as last year's. Right on cue, snow has appeared to usher in the month of December. (Last year, we managed to make it through much of January before the snow started gracing us with its presence.) While yesterday was a bright and sunny (but chilly) day, today the city is waking up to a blanket of the white stuff and it is currently about 22 degrees. Ugh. I have to go out to run some errands and I am procrastinating like you wouldn't believe.

In Theory, It was a Good Idea

I originally planned my Saturday morning around the Theory sample sale down in the Fashion District. I even had a pithy, clever title for my anticipated blog entry -- something along the lines of "The Battle for Cashmere". (I guess Pakistan wouldn't think that was either pithy or clever.)

Well, I'm sorry to say that I failed in my mission.

But it's not like I didn't try. Even though it was only about 30 degrees this morning, I still bundled up, walked up to Columbus Circle in bone-chilling wind and got on the C train. I've never been to this sample sale location previously, so I was concerned it would be hard to find -- you know, one of those unmarked doors that only those "in the know" know about.

As it turned out, I didn't have to worry about not being able to find the place. The 500 or so other women standing in line to get in kind of gave it away. Seriously, the line stretched all the way from 7th Avenue to 8th Avenue (and those east-west blocks are loooooong). As I walked down the street, seeing the red noses, watery eyes and hands clutching Starbuck's cups, I contemplated joining the end of the line. Honestly, I did. But as I approached the very last girl in line, I didn't slow my pace for even a split second. I just kept right on walking and popped into the nearest Dunkin' Donuts to re-group.

I spent the next couple of hours milling around various stores and checking out the Christmas window displays at Macy's and Lord & Taylor. As it turns out, the fashion gods work in mysterious ways because even though I didn't pick up a single shred of massively discounted Theory merchandise, the Banana Republic associate hooked me up with an extra 30% discount (on top of the already-on-sale-price) for two pairs of dress pants.

Reality trumps theory again.

Texas Chill

I forgot to tell you that it SNOWED in Dallas on Thanksgiving Day. We were watching the Cowboys game on TV when they showed a shot of the scoreboard and there were big, soft, white snowflakes fluttering down. Since Texas Stadium is only a couple of miles from Special K's mom's house, all heads swiveled to look out the windows and sure enough, it was snowing. In Dallas. Do what now y'all??

(And I was a complete embarrassment to my Canadian heritage -- in the spirit of traveling light, I didn't even have a warm coat with me. And it wound up being colder in Texas than it was in NYC. Oops.)