Welcome to the Four Seasons.†
Here is the living room...
...and the bedroom.‡
There is a work area for your convenience.§
A full marble bathroom...
...with fine L'Occitane bath products¶ and decorative toilet paper seals...
...along with the VERY COOL magnifying mirror with a light built right in.#
[SUMMARY: Cool is in the eye of the beholder.]
Besides the rather pedestrian accoutrements such as big, fluffy robes and slippers, the Four Seasons provides an umbrella.
Besides the rather pedestrian assortment of snacks, soft drinks and tiny bottles of liquor, the Four Seasons offers such useful items as Purell, Listerine Pocket Packs, bath salts, fussy green tea and a handy Four Seasons purse hanger.
Despite the old fashioned luxury you'd expect from the Four Seasons, there is also technological comfort.††
See the doorbell? Only the suites have doorbells. That's how you know‡‡ your next door neighbour isn't in a suite: he doesn't have a doorbell.
[SUMMARY: Competitive hotel residency.]
When you order room service from the Four Seasons, they call you by name.% They are solicitous. And when your food is ready, they call and say, "Your dinner is prepared. May I bring it to you now?
And there's an orchid in the white napkin origami surrounding your silverware.^
Yes, I did knit. And despite my hissy fit the other day, I did take a before picture of the bowl. Y'know... in the Four Seasons.
Four Seasons pencil for scale.§§
For the record, if you knit the felted bowl from Leigh Radford's "One Skein," but you bump it up to a 75-stitch cast-on, this is all the yarn you have left over from that one skein.¶¶
[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog! With terminology!]
Of course, Houston wasn't just about lounging around the Four Seasons knitting and ordering orchids from room service. Houston was about muttering, "I think you have my thtapler"@ to myself a hundred times a day and laughing like a loon.##
Also, wishing I could meet the IT guy whose desk sported these compelling items:
I think that IT guy and I could be friends. †††
And Houston was not just about lounging around the Four Seasons, not just about blogdorking a major client's office decor... Houston was also about Christmas lights:
And a decorated airport.
And 80 degrees and 112% humidity. No, I did *not* take a picture of my hair for your amusement. Macy Gray got nothin' on me.
Houston also brought the brief and subtle return of the Texas accent I acquired from ages five through ten. Don't make me mad this week -- I'm liable to "Whut in the naym of Sayam Hyoust'n are y'all doin'?" you without a second thought.
Just so's y'all know, I brought a pile of knitting stuff to the office today so I could take pictures in daylight so I could be sure to have plenty of fibre-related pictures tomorrow to show you this is still, at its heart, a knitblog.
Apparently, I'm willing to blogdork my way through any client's office.
[SUMMARY: Professionalism is our watchword here at the Rickety Blog.]
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Did I mention I was staying at the Four Seasons?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Down comforter, down pillows, ironed sheets... televisions in both the living room and the bedroom, which was funny, 'cause the first night I settled in with my knitting in the living room, I pointed the remote at the TiVi and both TiVis came on. There were also padded hangers and cedar sachets in the closet. And spray starch. I might have mentioned I wanted to spritz spray starch around the room just because I love that crisp, fresh laundry smell of spray starch.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And pleated for your pleasure!
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Which I'm madly in love with and it turns out they're wildly expensive. Of course. How can someone as inherently, basically, joyfully dorky as me have such expensive taste?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And when they do turndown service, they turn the light in the magnifying mirror on and it creates a lovely, soft glow in the bathroom and provides a nightlight so you don't bump into shit when you're navigating 600 squart feet of hotel space.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I am also in love with the dimmer switch, which is applied judiciously at turndown too. I want all my lamps to have dimmer switches.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): And, since my name is ten kinds of weird, they pronounce it four different ways throughout the course of your order. (wonky grammar intentional)
^FOOTNOTE (careted): Told you there'd be flowers in Houston. There are always flowers.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And by "you," I mean, "me."
§§FOOTNOTE (hisssssssss): When was the last time I mentioned I stayed at the Four Seasons?
¶¶FOOTNOTE (prairie dogs): And by "you," I mean, "me." Seriously, as tight as I knit... your mileage may vary.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For those of you scoring at home, I was *not* in Glenda's office, nor did I ever meet anyone named Glenda or see the name Glenda on a doorplate. It was a random Glenda stapler that fell under my radar like gigglefodder from heaven.
##FOOTNOTE (pint's a pound): And taking pictures of staplers. How much more dork? None. None more dork.
†††FOOTNOTE (telegraph hill): Maybe the IT guy and I should breed. Like pandas. With the soft rustle of ruffled kleenex. Nice segueway, huh? I just tied yesterday's post AND yesterday's comments in with today's post. Shouldn't I get an award or something?
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (stitches!): There are *always* cranes.