What Goes on in Room 712

While I don't love traveling alone, sightseeing alone, or dining alone, I admit I love staying in hotels alone. There is no greater excuse to indulge in whims and quirks than having your own key in an anonymous city. Especially when you have a roommate at home to keep you normal-ish. I confess to the following:

- spending an inordinate amount of time shopping in the juniors section of the Post Exchange. Yes, I know am too old for this. No, that doesn't dissuade me in the face of good deals and solid jersey skirts.

- visiting the library to read People magazine because I like the pretty pictures but don't find enough content to read for more than 15 minutes

- buying a salad and a cookie for lunch. Only eating the cookie.

- deciding the P90X yoga video that runs 1 hour and 30 minutes is very boring and only doing 45 minutes both times it has come up in the sequence. Still realizing that physical discipline is about submission.

- purchasing a bridal magazine on my day of daydreaming. picking a favorite dress and deciding that bridesmaids, bridesmaid dresses, and color schemes are unprogressive and lacking creativity (if anyone is reading this who opted for the former, please forgive me-- everyone else heartily approves:)

- buying a new camera because I lost the computer connecty cord of my Xmas one, and my sister guilted me about not sharing views of life in the Pacific. I have successfully taken zero photos because photos aren't very interesting to me unless they represent novelty.

- coming home with sad, broken hair from after followng an impulse to get a dye job at the hotel salon that was terrible and resulted in 2 and a half hours of damage repair after a desperate plea to the hotel manager. It is now the color of Julianne Moore's and the touchable consistency of straw.

So it's probably about time I return to practical life. My glamourous habit end tomorrow. Thank God alcohol is not a big temptation to me because my impulsivity runs strong enough on its own.