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I am blessed to have friends—friends who not only let me live with them for three weeks while I got myself moved across the country from NY to SF, started a new job, and fought off bronchitis, but who welcomed me with open arms when I was tired, grumpy, busy, and feeling generally chaotic inside.
So when I moved out of their cozy, calm corner of the seaside town of Tiburon and into my new snazzy apartment in the city, they gave me a house-warming gift (as if providing love, scotch, and a pit-stop place to live wasn’t enough) and I have to say, this gift is…fantastic.
It’s a Frother.
Now, I know, I know… it’s a frivolous bit of gadgetry, but I do have to say that while living with my saintly (and sometimes sinister but that’s another story) friends, Erica and Jim, I got a wee bit spoiled using a Frother to foam up my warm and delicious morning coffee.
And now, thanks to my Friends Who Froth… I, too, have become a Frivolous Frother.
Thanks “Party Cats!”
The Frother
As I found myself in need of serious distraction from the abundance of boxes that fill my apartment, I headed through the sticky Manhattan heat to the calm and cool Mandarin Oriental Hotel Spa for a few hours of indulgence (thanks to Dad and Lisa for the gift!!). Slightly skeptical at the prospect of a $145 pedicure (no, I’m not kidding), I am happy to report that the legs and feet are ridiculously smooth, massaged into a nice cozy comfort, and the toes are painted a shiny black-cherry color called “Toast of Life” (which seemed appropriate after the past couple of days that I’ve had).
A pampered me departed the soothing spa haven with a chilled bottle of water and a snazzy pair of “complimentary” bamboo flip-flops and was greeted into reality with a massive down-pouring of flash floods, booming sky, and spears of lightening cracking over the city. Drenched people everywhere were running for cover– some screeching, some falling, and some laughing.
So after watching one person get toted off in an ambulance, one soaked (and slightly unhappy) wedding party’s arrival at the Mandarin, listening to a security guard say he saw a squirrel go flying through the air in a gust of wind (apparently I missed that one), and joining a gathering line of soggy people in need of taxis, me and my happy feet were escorted under an awning of an umbrella to a waiting hotel-owned Bentley where I was whisked home. (Not entirely sure how that happened but I credit the snappy red toenails.) Back in the world of tranquil, spa-like serenity…
Until of course, I entered my “dorm room” apartment to find empty boxes waiting to be filled in preparation for the move. But it was good while it lasted– thanks again, Pops and Lisa! You thought you were giving me a gift card for a pedicure but really you gave me the gift of a frivolous experience (and distraction from the impending good-byes that will take place this week). Cheers!
