Susan Senator

Sitting here on a big soft white bed in the Beachwood Hilton in Cleveland Ohio. I’m giving a keynote in a few hours. I actually slept well; it probably helped that I had two glasses of wine and an Ambien. I still woke up at 2:30 because of somebody out there in the hall, but I drifted back to sleep. I can’t believe these pillows, how soft and yet firm (enough) they are. Nat would be in hog heaven here.

I brewed their Lavazza coffee with trepidation. One of my peeves in life is bad coffee; but this stuff wasn’t bad. Nice mug, too. My favorite coffee is Peet’s French Roast; even better if Ned makes it before I get up. Then I come down and bring him his mug, the big yellow one, with two teaspoons of sugar! I kind of like Starbucks — who doesn’t, despite it’s being the Microsoft of coffee, gobbling up every street corner in America, putting all the smaller coffee joints out of business, turning America into one giant strip mall, yadayada — but only a grande decaf breve misto in cold weather and and iced decaf in hot weather. I like Starbucks socially. It is my office; it is where I meet friends and colleagues for a nice hour and a half. Sometimes I write there, but rarely. I prefer being alone in my little nest in the the windowseat.

So now I’m in a little nest in the hotel bed. I wish Ned would come with me on one of these trips. I never remember how much fun it is to be in a hotel alone. I loved going to dinner by myself last night. The bar was right in the other room and they were playing all the trashy Top Ten hits I listen to when I work out! After I had my comfort food: glass of pinot grigio, caesar salad, french onion soup, a little of the bread (! That was my dessert) I went into the bar. It was strange. I have never gone to a bar myself. Never. I got a wine and started I.M.ing Ned, telling him what was going on. A lot of men, everywhere. Sports on t.v. Women dressed to the nines (except me, Ms. Laptop, bloodshot-travel-droopy eyes and blue jeans). I was in Testosterone City. A fun place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. A gorgeous man named Steve came up to me and asked eagerly if I was looking at porn. I almost told him he needed to work on his line. But I told him I wasn’t, I said I was I.M.ing and he offered to buy me my next drink. I said, “sure,” but I knew I was only having this one. Maybe I should have just said, “No thanks.”

Halfway through my drink I got the feeling I should go to sleep. I was slurring my I.M’s. So I went back upstairs to my room and finished I.Ming with Ned, and also called him one more time on my cell. It’s fun to travel alone but I miss him so much. He’s like part of my skin, and sometimes that’s not so good (too familiar) and sometimes it’s fantastic and wild (guess when) and sometimes it hurts, like now, when he’s not here.

Coffee’s almost done; time to go down to the restaurant for breakfast and more mediocre coffee! Wish me luck this a.m.