I had been wondering what a fit topic would be for the 411 guest to end the month of August with. I’ve decided it should be on “friends.” They say you can never have too many friends, but those are not the kind I’m talking about. I have made a lot of friends in my lifetime. But, there are only a few that I can honestly say are my anam cara: soul friends.
They really understand you because they’re so tuned in to you. They’re the ones who love you unconditionally, pick you up when you’re down, and support you in your times of need and self-doubt. They’re the ones who take care of you when you’re sick, feed you when you’re hungry, and tell you about yourself when you need a shot upside the head.
                 
I think really good friends have a sixth sense about them. You know, they somehow know when you need them to call, or you think about each other and bingo, the phone rings. I often wonder if our spirit guides, guardian angels, or whoever they are from the other side, whose “job” it is to get us through this lifetime, are all friends with each other too. Maybe that’s where the extra sensory perception comes in. Their contact with each other is instantaneous.
                 
Yesterday, I had a belated birthday lunch with a close friend of 27 years. We  were commenting on how far we’ve come in our lives from the early days. Another one of my best friends is the godmother to one of my daughters. She’s been with me through all the major forks in the road and life changes of my adult life. She gives me true friendship, perspective and understanding, and a whole lot of support. I have two college friends who live across the United States, and yet we’ve kept in continual touch for the past 40 years, supporting each other in crisis and in good times. Another friend is my spiritual advisor.
She knows exactly what to say ‘cause she knows exactly where I am at any point in time on my journey. I’m grateful for her guidance.
                 
I’ve made new friends here at the hotel this past year. They’ve become like family, and you’ve met several in this blog. I am checked on by “Dave” when I don’t come down in the morning at the usual time, or just checked on for no reason other than to let me know he was thinking of me. I am teased mercilessly by Squid, yet it’s done with Squidly love. And, of course you’ve met Confidante here, one of the best soul friends I could have ever asked for. Sometimes he’s like a son to me, and sometimes he’s like a brother. Sometimes he’s like the devil’s advocate. Sometimes he’s the messenger. He always has my back. I trust  his wisdom, and although I don’t always act like I hear him, I trust his advice implicitly. He sees my soul and speaks to it.  He is one of the few people in my life who  really understands what it’s like to be in a creative profession where it takes perseverance, commitment and talent, not easily understood or supported by others on a different path. I am grateful for all the support and encouragement he gives me. A true friend wants the best for you, and I know he does. True friends never let a disagreement ruin their relationship. True friends will remind you to listen to what you’re saying to yourself. A true friend will try to do for you, what you can’t do for yourself, even when it’s difficult for you to accept. 
                 
And, when you’ve got a headache a true friend shares their ibuprofen.

This is the first time I’ve been online and I don’t have to tell you where I’ve been. What an exciting weekend. They masses began piling in early on Friday. As expected, just about every room had a dog or two, or three. What was not expected was that their owners would leave them alone in a strange hotel room in anticipation of an approaching hurricane. Most intelligent people already know that animals can sense an approaching storm a lot sooner than a human. So, why in God’s name would their owners leave them
alone all day and most of the evening is beyond me. They howled, they cried, they barked. Some even tried to find a way out of their room. And, you’d think all the owners would be grateful to have the only hotel that would accommodate dogs by making sure their dogs were walked at frequent intervals so they didn’t use the elevator, hallways or their room to relieve themselves. This is not the dogs fault. This is not even every dog owner’s fault. Most made sure they obeyed the letter they were given upon registering. And, the others…well, they simply didn't care.
                 
I am sorry I stayed glued to the blow by blow reporting from the news media covering Irene. I left the TV on all day Saturday and all night. Big mistake. You know they find every house with a tree through its roof, every car smashed by a fallen tree, and every house along the coast inundated with water. This set me up to fear the worst when I was unable to reach my sister who lives along the Jersey coast. By early afternoon on Saturday, I was frantic and sure she was either lying face down floating in 8 feet of water in her house, or else hit unconscious by the flying debris from her slovenly next door neighbor, whose yard is full of cast-offs and toys. Fortunately, neither happened. When I finally heard from her late Saturday afternoon, she said the worst that had happened was when a frozen bottle of water landed on her foot. I could have drowned her myself.
                 
Regrettably, there were a few deaths and many people with property damage and no power for days. I am grateful all my family and friends are safe, and their homes made it through unscathed. My own storage unit escaped water damage. The hotel had power the entire time and everyone stayed safe under its roof. It was an act of grace that we dodged a bullet on this one, considering how close it followed the earthquake. 
                 
And then…someone decided to make popcorn Saturday night. Our microwave in the snack area is powerful. When left unattended, the butter inside the center of the bag catches fire. This happened once before and burned the center of the microwave as well as tipped off the fire department we were havin’ a hot time at the hotel. Only this time, after it set off the fire alarm throughout the hotel, there was no one here who could shut it off. It happened after 9 p.m. The fire department had real emergencies to handle, and wasn’t about to show up to turn the alarm off. Poor Mr. Madison was on duty and couldn’t figure out what to do to silence it. I let him go to make a call to the head of maintenance while I
removed the last vestiges of popcorn from the shelves. After about forty minutes of ear piercing noise the damn thing was shut off. At least I think it was shut off. I’m still not convinced someone didn’t put it out of its misery. So, that fortunately, was the most exciting thing to happen here this weekend. And, boy am I happy.

Welcome to dog central. With the massive evacuation from the coastal areas due to hurricane Irene, apparently our hotel is one of the few that allows dogs. Lucky us. There is currently a very large dog barking in the loudspeaker room next door. Its owners are even louder. There is a dog on the other side of me, as well. We’ve already had dog confrontations in the halls and lobby. This is going to be one interesting weekend. I can’t wait for the storm to actually hit and all of them decide to go ballistic at the same time. It’s supposed to hit us during the night. So much for sleep. 
                 
What a week; first an earthquake with accompanying aftershocks, now a hurricane. What’s next, a locust invasion? Frankly, I’m worried about the lightning. As you may recall, I am not a fan of lightning. Nor am I a fan of earthquakes or hurricanes. I guess it is what it is.
                 
My sister lives on the Jersey coast. She refuses to evacuate, planning on sticking it out on her own with her cat. I am waiting to see if she flies past my window when the storm hits her area, a la Wicked Witch of the West style. A broom would not last in 100 mph winds. Even the navy had more common sense. Now the roads are closed. 
                 
I called my mother to see if she was prepared. At almost 95, she didn’t even know we’d had an earthquake let alone were expecting a hurricane. There is something to be said for dementia. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. She’s probably safer than my sister. They don’t
build houses like hers anymore. I remember when my parents built the garage. Cinder block wasn’t good enough for my dad. Each block was filled with poured concrete, as well. In case of a hurricane or nuclear attack, get inside my parents’garage. My sister should have gone there.
                 
I stocked up on water yesterday and today. I’m expecting we might have to use it to wash with, not just drink if this hurricane turns out to be like hurricane Isabel. No power for a week. No clean water, either. I wanted to know if the hotel had any plans for emergencies. We’ll have footlights in the halls and hopefully elevator service; thank God, because all those dogs are gonna have to go to the bathroom, and I can tell you when it happens in the elevator it’s not pretty. What we won’t have is TV service, so I hope y’all didn’t come here thinking this was gonna be party time, either. What I want to know, is what are we going to do with all those kids and dogs and adults who have nothing to keep them occupied except drinking, screaming and running around? Turn them all outside, and let them blow away. It was just a suggestion. Y’all be safe, hear?       

Since I did not have either, phone or internet service yesterday, my blog didn’t get posted. I’d had no service even before the earthquake hit. So, this is the revised blog. I have only just got my internet connection and the hotel phone back.

Was yesterday a real moving experience for you too? I was on the computer writing when the hotel began violently moving and shaking. Then it sounded like the roof caved in over the room above mine. I opened the door to my room to see if any of the girls from housekeeping were in the hall. Most of the girls don’t speak English, and they may not have known what was happening. I told the only one I did see, in Spanish, we’d had a
terrimoto, and to stay in the hallway in case we got an aftershock. First on my list of priorities was to pee, because I didn’t want to be caught unable to go back inside in case the hotel fell down. Second priority was to shut down the computer, pack it up, grab my purse and run out the door. I took a chance and used the elevator. I figured on the off chance the shaft was damaged it wouldn’t move anywhere. On the good chance it was okay, it’d get me to the lobby faster. Bad judgment won. 
                 
It was already over by the time I got to the lobby. My daughter, Confidante and Dave were trying to reach me to see if I was okay, but I couldn’t get a line out to let them know. It seems everyone’s cell phone was jammed with traffic. I was able to receive their texts, but of course they’re both on other services. This will teach me a lesson next time I get a phone with a two year contract, don’t put all your eggs in one basket. I went to the floor over mine to have one of the girls in housekeeping check that room, and it was okay. I’m
assuming something happened on the roof. I’ve since heard that the earthquake measured 5.8, and its epicenter was only 15 minutes away from where I’m located, so that’s probably why there was a whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on. Now we have hurricane Irene to look forward to. She won’t be shakin’, but I’m hoping she’ll be crying, because we need a lot of rain.
                 
Everyone was still talking about the earthquake today; where they were at the time, yada yada. Folks even in one story buildings were evacuated. So how come nobody made a move to evacuate us? Hmmph. Well, for one, there was no phone. You’d think a hotel would have an intercom or a loudspeaker in case of emergencies, wouldn’t you? Not here.
                 
My storage unit was not a pretty sight upon inspection today. Stuff shifted and I can’t get into the back to see what’s what. I guess I’ll have to wait until I move, unless we have another one, and it all moves back where it came from. I won’t hold my breath on that one, though.

I was remembering today what a nice early Saturday morning I had having coffee with Dave. I’ve been out on the patio in late afternoons and mostly at night, but I’d never been in the morning. We had coffee out there about 9 a.m. and it was like a whole different place. I felt like I was on a vacation. It just goes to show you how varying your environment just a little can give you a whole new slant on things. It was such a peaceful way to start my day. And, as you already know, it got even better with the birthday party for Squid.

Last night Confidante and I played pool. He seemed to have the need to work off some steam by taking it out on the pool balls. Thank goodness it wasn’t me, or I’d have to type with my nose. He’s almost as competitive as Mr. Pool, and when they get that way…well, I just let ‘em be. He won two out of three games, but in actuality, he won all three. The middle one was by default, so I didn’t count it. I don’t like playing by what in my estimation are stupid rules, so when you call a pocket but it goes in another, you’re not supposed to count it. When it happens on the eight ball…  Never mind. In my mind, he won all three.

Did I have a great morning in the gym, or what? I did everything: elliptical machine for a half hour, Pilates with 200 squats, lifted weights and did my stretches. Tomorrow I will be lying in bed waiting for someone to bring the crane.  Such is the price you pay when you think you’re thirty.
You would think living in a hotel would free me from the pile of junk mail usually sent to home mailboxes, wouldn’t you? How did I get on so many mailing lists, is what I want to know. Do these companies realize their profits might be a tad higher if they stopped using snail mail and just stuck with internet advertising and catalogs? I don’t want your paper catalog. I have no place to keep it. Leave me alone.

I opened my door this morning and discovered both sides of the hallway lined with more “do not disturb” signs than I have ever seen since I’ve been here. They apparently descended upon us in the middle of the night, and I never heard them. How did that happen? Usually, they’re talking loudly to each other as they walk down the hall waking everyone up. I discovered the reason I didn’t hear them was because the woman on night duty told them to be quiet when they got upstairs. The way they were behaving in the lobby, she knew what would happen when they got off the elevator. THANK YOU. I hope you get a big, fat raise because you’re the first desk person to remind new guests they’re expected to be considerate of those already asleep. Now if we could just get those darn motorcycles to be quiet…
 

They finally got me out of the hotel. Last night Confidante, Dave, and I went to Squid’s birthday party. It’s nice to be able to reconcile the other side of a friendship every now and then. I already knew Squid’s wife, Mrs. Squid, and yesterday I got to meet her family, his family, and their friends outside of the hotel. So, now I know the entire Squid squad. Everyone was very welcoming and friendly, not that I would expect anything less from someone Squid would be associated with. As you would expect, there was plenty of great food at the cookout too. And, I finally got to play Wii for the first time. They put bowling on. It took me a couple of swings to get the remote to work correctly. Twice I did something that re-set the game, but nobody threw a bowling ball at me, so it was okay. I won’t tell you who I had a higher score than, because he’ll just consider it beginner’s  luck. I’m sure that’s what it was.
                 
I was astounded at how quiet it was here this weekend. Where did all the party people go? What happened to the teams? HA! There were here, but just not on my floor for a change. I felt like an airline stewardess the other night directing guests with both my hands to where the elevators were located to the rooms. It’s so much fun to watch people wheeling luggage and pulling children from the elevator that only services the parking deck, or the one to the housekeeping section in the back. The ones for the rooms are actually past the
lobby. You know they’ve just gotten lost by the look on their faces when they get off in the lobby again. They sort of stand there looking from one wrong elevator to the next wondering why they weren’t seeing it. Sometimes, we can catch them before they make a mistake, but it’s always fun to see how many times they’ll go round and round before they ask. Today, a guest commented on how hard it was to find our hotel. We like to keep it hidden. It cuts down on the number of walk-ins for…, you know.  

If anything of interest happened in the past three days you didn’t hear about it from me. I’ve been sequestered in my hotel room banging away at the keys to meet a deadline. The Chef commented he hadn’t seen me in a long time, nor have I mentioned him in my blog. It’s like this…when I get focused and determined to finish something, that’s all I do. I even gave up exercising. My only maintenance is food, and I even forgot about that last night. But, I made my deadline. I seem to work best under pressure. So, that’s where I’ve been: working. I’m sure glad I don’t have some dumb, boring job you want to forget as soon as you leave work. I love my job. It comes with me wherever I go. I am always thinking about characters or the action. And, when I finish working on it, it’s sad to let it go. I have to move on to the next work quickly. 
                 
This also means I haven’t been privy to the usual goings on at the hotel, and Lord knows, there ain’t nothing goin' on in my room. The most activity this room has seen is when they brought in a new chair for me yesterday. The former chair, which is standard throughout the hotel, doesn‘t come up high enough for your arms to comfortably use a keyboard. Whoever the dimwit was that specified the finishes here didn’t think about the fact that business people have a hard time using a 36 inch high desk with a laptop, especially with a swivel chair that doesn’t elevate. After a year of typing at this desk, I’m developing carpal tunnel in my wrists because of the angle I have to keep my wrists at to strike the keys. No wonder my neck muscles are always in a bunch. My shoulders stay under my ears as I try to type. Unfortunately, even the new office chair doesn’t come up high enough. I tried sitting on a pillow, which did make a difference, but it wasn't easy hauling myself up onto it to get on the chair. Being a writer has its moments. So, does being short.
                 
Here we are already at another weekend. I’m wondering what this weekend has in store for us. For the next week or so, we’ll have the last of the summer vacationers before it’s time to go back to school. That means the pool will be quiet afterward, the kids won’t be yelling in the halls, and the adults will be morose knowing they have such a short time left before going back to their dumb, boring job. Y’all ought to be happy you’ve got jobs and disposable income to go on a vacation. 
                 
Okay, so I’ve never played Wii. Nor do I know what an X box is. Why would I? I have no exposure to these things. I don’t have grandchildren old enough to use them, nor are my own children young enough to want to. It’s not like there’s any in the hotel. Besides, I don’t even watch TV anymore. I’m never bored. I just find more interesting entertainment. And, it doesn’t even come with a price. Heck, most days I don’t even have the time to check my email or Facebook. So, Squid it has nothing to do with the fact that they didn’t have these things in the Jurassic Age. Back then, we played with real flying creatures and got exercise running from raptors. We hit rocks with clubs to play our own version of baseball, and we didn’t need a screen on which to play a virtual game. We had the real deal. Wii that.

Last summer it was the raw, red onions that did me in. This summer, it’s the pasta with smoked mozzarella and basil salad. The chef makes it so hot with Cayenne pepper that my fillings melted. My mouth is on fire. I wonder, does he ever eat his own cooking? Does he at least taste it as he goes along? Yikes. I’ve had my fill of his chicken done every which way, and collard greens. Oh, let me not forget the fried green tomatoes. Trouble is when you live in a hotel and can’t cook for yourself you’re at the mercy of what you can find within walking distance. 
                 
They say that nothing is ever truly lost, but just waiting to return, and I know that includes body fat. Today I found the missing spongey covering for my ear bud that fell off when I caught it in the elliptical machine’s arm. I had looked for it inside the opening, and even tried to stick my fingers in to find it, but it had fallen to crevices not accessible to human fingers. I hoped it would fall out on its own, but after several weeks I gave up hoping for its resurrection and used another pair. Today I was facing the machine and happened to look down on the floor. Was that what I thought it was? Sure enough, there lay my spongey thing right up against the base. I sterilized it and re-united it with its mate. It’s a lot more comfortable than its replacement.
                 
After learning that three husbands belonging to friends and a relative in my age group had died of a heart attack recently, I’ve decided I’m better off with men half my age, or somewhere in between. I need a man who still has some good tread left on him. When I kick his tires I don’t expect to have him keel over on me. I’ve waited too long for Mr. Right to come along only to have his engine die in idle just as I’ve gotten him warmed up. No, siree, I’ll take a younger model, no hybrids, with a great design and a full tank of gas.
                 
Damn if I didn’t get in trouble again for NOT reporting the loud noise this past Saturday night when a party got too noisy. I’ve gotten too used to adjusting to it. Okay, next time if you want to throw someone out because they’re being disruptive to the entire floor, just call my room and say, “I know you’re in there. Come out from under the pillows over your head and call me back. I need you to complain.” How’s that?
                 
I tried to give up the two cookies that were probably sabotaging my diet. I really tried. I did. But, I had to have something for dessert, so I switched to a vanilla cupcake. Don’t get your knickers in a bunch; I asked them to give me one without icing. It wasn’t quite the same. Icing gives it that little extra taste of something that makes it yummy. Why do they have to put so much on top of the cupcake, though? Icing gives me a rotten sugar headache. Cookies don’t. I think they’re healthier for you. I’m just saying.

I finally got to play pool the following two nights. Maybe I should take a long break more often. Sometimes I surprise myself at the improvement in my game when I come back to it. I’m not going to say how many games I won, or who I played, not that it would be too hard to figure that out. Let’s just say, the games have gone down to the wire, and whether I win or I lose, I know I played well. And, some of that is due to the generosity of Mr. Pool and Confidante who offer suggestions or praise when I’ve sunk a difficult shot. Playing with Confidante is an experience in itself. By the time we’re ready to call it quits, my stomach muscles are knotted from laughter and I’m exhausted. When I began this blog I referred to him as Mr. NyQuill because he makes me laugh so hard and we have such a good time, I sleep like a rock after a night of playing pool with him. The night we played I slept for nine hours straight. I wouldn’t want to ruin his game by insinuating he puts all women to sleep, because I have no idea if he affects other women this way. All I know is if I could bottle him I would.                 
                  
It’s raining cats and dogs today. I love the rain, and goodness knows we needed it. The rain is a perfect ending to this week. It’s been relatively quiet, if you don’t count last night. I’ve been able to enjoy sitting outside at night without the nasty humidity that has plagued us. It’s been a productive week for me. Life is good and I’m contented. Of course, if something snarky doesn’t happen soon, my blog is going to get very dull. I wouldn’t want to lose my edge. Then again, I can always count on Squid or Dave to help Confidante keep that edge sharp. Together, we’re like one giant sitcom. 
                 
I may have to give up cookies. I thought I could balance out the damage by eating salad, but apparently, it’s not a fair trade. I confess I’ve become an exercise slacker. I’ve gone hard in the gym for the past year, and I’m sick, sick, sick of the same machines; the same routine. I’m bored with it all. I need to do something physical that’s also fun. Yeh, I need more of that too. I feel like mountain climbing or clearing a jungle. The only problem with that is I don’t like bugs or snakes, my hair would frizz, and I can forget about maintaining manicured nails. Well, there must be something. Stomping grapes. That’s it! It would combine two of my favorite things, wine and Italy, and I could lose weight while earning some money. But then, I'd have the problem of what to do with purple feet.
                 
Speaking of feet, last weekend I bought a pair of sandals while I was in Northern Virginia. You know how hard it is to find sandals at the end of the season, especially in your own size. I’d been looking for good sandals since the spring. I was now desperate since I had a lot of walking to do on concrete, and it was too hot to wear socks and jogging shoes. My options being limited, I found a pair I thought might work. They have cut-outs criss-crossing over the tops, elastic string laces and no arch support. I bought them anyway. I’ve discovered that not only are they very tight-fitting, but they make your feet hot from the rubber soles. Apparently, they’re ugly too. When I got home the first thing Squid said to me was, “You need to bring somebody with you next time you buy shoes.” 


                 

Good news. It seems the recent Census poll has resulted in recalibrating the labels we’ve attached to different age groups. Remember when you turned fifty and received a letter from AARP informing you of your new senior citizen status? Well, we’ve been downgraded to active adult now. Apparently, people are living longer, and the fact that reaching 100 years old is no longer the exception prompted the relabeling. Humph. Don’t think I’m
giving up my discount at the theater just because the ranges changed, either. 
                 
Things have been a little dull around the hotel lately. Since Confidante, Squid, Dave, Mr. Pool and I all feed off each other, when schedules change and we’re not together, there’s not as much action. That is unless you count some of the guests, such as the older woman with the drinking problem who keeps chasing Confidante, who add comic relief. Or, the other woman who resembles her pet English Bulldog. It really is true how dog owners tend to look like their dogs after awhile.
                 
Confidante has been making some great music lately. I’m no Dr. Dre, but I wish someone would discover his talent. He’s a really fantastic composer. His lyrics are what life’s all about. I listened to two of his latest songs as I worked today. Did I ever mention the time my stupid GPS got me royally lost, not in the best of areas to get lost in if you’d want to pick one?  I happened to have one of his CDs playing at the time. There was something oddly comforting about listening to his voice that helped me to remain calm. That, and a call to my daughter to help direct me out of hell’s kitchen.
                 
I’d been looking forward to playing pool last night since Confidante was on the evening shift. Unfortunately, a couple of girls commandeered the table all night. I gave up waiting around 10:30. I couldn’t complain. Well, yes I could have, but I didn’t. I mean this is my game and I’m afraid I’m getting rusty. I do have a reputation to uphold, ya know. Fat chance of us getting a second pool table, so I guess I’ll just have to wait until they leave the hotel. I’ve been trying to think of who one of the girls reminded me of all day, and
then it hit me. Her face resembles the actor who played Cochise on The Lone Ranger. I don’t think that makes her play pool any better, but it did prevent me from telling her to
get her horse off my table.