As I type this I’m sitting in a hotel room in Palm Springs, in my pajamas. Bear has another one of his work conferences, and so I’m dragged along to play the part of supportive spouse and arm candy. I scoff, but it is a pretty sweet gig. I’ve got a lovely hotel room all to myself to work on finishing off this never ending book project of mine, and then I get all dressed up for a fancy dinner on some corporate expense account. And since I don’t know any of these people and will probably never see them again, I can forget the efforts at conversation and just stuff my face with food I’m not paying for.
Last night I ate fried artichoke hearts, a lamb shank with goat cheese mashed potatoes, and a chocolate orange pot du creme. And I don’t regret it one bit.
I’ve been getting some good work done, but I’m thinking I might just take the rest of the day off. This is my first time in Palm Springs and it feels like this town was made for me. The midcentury modern influence in this town is second to none, and between the antique stores and the thrift stores I may be reduced to a puddle of greedy tears. I want the world! I want the WHOLE world! Or at least all the gorgeous vintage stuff I’m seeing. I have managed to fight temptation and keep working, but I think a stroll down the main drag is in order. I won’t consider this trip a success unless I come home with something fabulous I wouldn’t be able to find anyplace else.