I’m writing today from the Centenary College swimming pool where Evan is working out with this high school swim team. Of course, there was a knock down/drag out in the car because, although I
was driving, he knew the better way. My car won’t go through buildings and shouldn’t drive over gardens. But he knows better. Always does. So I kicked his little ass out of the car and let him walk while I found a parking space and still got to the pool before His Highness did. What a dope. I would have settled for a simple, “Thanks, Dad, for driving me here.” But noooooooooooo.
HIT THE ROAD (to California)
I’m finally back from Road to California. Whew, what an amazing show and venue. If ever you can ever get there, get there! Carolyn Reese and her staff run some wonderful, over the top, show. Folks, the vendors can make you drool. So many stalls with a gazillion wonderful fabrics and notions. Bring your credit cards and worry about your mortgage later!
McCall’s editor, Beth Hayes, told me that I’d love this show and she was absolutely right!
I stayed at the Doubletree Hotel/Ontario, right across from the airport.
It’s a beautiful place, clean, good restaurants, but it’s one of those Building 1 through 4 places that you have to take an elevator from one floor to the next to get to the next building only to have to get back on the elevator and go down and or up to get to where you’re going. Not a great place if want to avoid burning cardio calories (and who is that type?).
If you call for something from the front desk, or security, it can easily take 15-minutes or more before you see someone. I had to deal with security for missing items or for door locks that wouldn’t open with my card. Let’s just say if a guest really, really needed security for something like a knife-wielding wacko, the entire floor would have been brutally murdered and the wacko gone before security could get from Building 1 to Building 3.
The story of how I stayed in 4 rooms in 3 days
After being up for almost 18 hours by the time I got to the beautiful and easy-as-pie Ontario Airport, I checked into my room and turned on my A.C. Clunk! Clunk! Clang! Grind! Clunk! Oh dear, something ain’t right. Every 45-seconds on the dot: Clunk! Clunk! Clang! Grind! Clunk!
Hoping that the AC was just “warming up,” I waited for about a half hour before calling the front desk to ask them to move me to a different room. I had not unpacked. That would have been too easy. Instead, they sent a repairman. It’s a 15-minute job. I decided to take a walk, see the flowers in bloom (I can’t fricking wait until New Jersey gets her flowers back), then God spoke to me and guided me directly to IN & OUT BURGER! I wept. What a find! Thank you, Jesus! Praise the Lord!
When I got back to my room about an hour later, I put my pass key card into the door slot and opened my door ready to dive into bed – stuffed with a fattening but out-of-this-world (heavenly) Double Double Burger (two burgers and two slices of cheese), fries and shake (I’m serious. I’m going back to church based on IN N OUT BURGER alone). The air conditioner was laid out all over the room. Shit.
I called the front desk again and asked to be moved. Just then the repair man came in, put the air conditioner back together and all is well. I took a cab to a steakhouse to meet with some fabulous Pickles
and slept until the next morning and left for my class. Being the “green machine” that I’m becoming I turned off all of the lights, the AC and hung my towel to dry before I left so that I could use it again. Wednesday, I taught my Simple Simon class which was a hoot. I loved the California girls! One was better and more interesting than the next.
Later that evening, after dinner, jet lagged and ass dragging I went back to my room. My room key wouldn’t work. Nada. Red light. Goose egg. I called the front desk from the hallway and waited 15-20 minutes until security got there to let me in.
Once inside, I took a shower and turned my AC back on. Clunk! Clunk! Clang! Grind! Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Clang! Grind! Clunk! Every 45-seconds! Clunk! Clunk! Clang! Grind! Clunk! Just like the last time. I called the desk. “MOVE ME!”
An hour later I was moved to a new room on the floor beneath me. I packed up all my shit and took an elevator ride to my floor , got in, unpacked all the stuff, watched some TV and (with my trusty Ambien) hit the sack.
When I woke up, the toilet in the NEW room had completely overflowed! Disgusting. I hadn’t even USED it and you can’t belive what was coming up!
I called the front desk to be moved but OH NO. “We’ll send a repair man.” I was already just about late for my Katmandu class by the time a different repairman made it to my room – 3240. I told him that I had to leave and rushed to the convention center. I asked him to lock up.
Another long but UBER fun day. I had fallen in love with the Road to California show. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. A FABULOUS SHOW. NOT TO BE MISSED.
When I finally made it back to my room that night, beat and ready for the sack, my door key card wouldn’t work again. SHIT! So off I lumber to the end of the hall to call the front desk from hell from the hall phone.
“Your name please, sir?”
“Mark Lipinski. L-I-P-I-N-S-K-I”
“Well, Mr. Lipinski, you’re in room 3246.”
“No. I’m sure it’s 3240.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lipinski, but you’re in 3246.” Am I fucking losing my mind? I know I’m tired but damn…
Off to 3246 I go. My room key wouldn’t work there either. Nada. Red light. Goose egg.
“Listen, you. I am SURE I’m in 3240.” We’ll send up our security.
15-minutes later, my arms full of a quilt top and bolt of Andover fabric (for tomorrow’s class) and a bag full of 3 large and different, gloriously sequined OUR LADY OF GUADELUPE’s, and a Guadelupe rubber stamp security finally shows up….but not to open MY door but 3246 even though I was insisting that I was in 3240. Twilight Zone, kiddies. Just the Outer Limits. In the meantime click on this line for a great site I just found for your own Lady of Guadelupes!
Just like Angelina Jolie in “Girl Interrupted” I played along. Good behavior gets you out of the looney bin. I set my load down in the hallway and when “security” opened the door to 3240 the room had been obviously untouched. My laptop wasn’t there. My clothes weren’t there. The gift of fresh picked oranges from the yard of California PicklePuss Sue weren’t there.
“MAAAAYBE because I’m in room 3240 (“asshole” –way under my breath)”
Oh the knocks security made on the room 3240 door. Now THOSE knocks could have awakened even Heath Ledger! No answer (just like at Heath’s door). Security opens the door with the master key. Lo and behold, all of my working papers, computer, etc. is all over the desk. “Thank you, God. I am not crazy!” (this calls for another IN & OUT Double Double. Hell, make that a TRIPLE!)
He leaves. I go to check on the bathroom (yuck!). The FRICKING TOILET IS UNPLUGGED FROM THE WALL WITH AN ‘OUT OF ORDER. DO NOT USE’ SIGN ON IT. Can you stand it?!?
I call the front desk. This time I ask for the manager. I get the “manager on duty” (which means you can wipe your ass with the amount of their authority).
I can move to a suite – Building 1. Oh shit. All I want to do is sleep. It’s late.
“Oh no, sugar. YOU can move me to a suite in Building 1. I’m going out for an hour (IN & OUT BURGER). I will pack my stuff and you can move me.” I was all but asleep on my feet. I packed, AGAIN and off I went.
When I got back, I stopped at the front desk to pick up my new key.
The room was fabulous (just click on the thumbnails) – but at what cost?
I realized the next day, as I gathered my things for my Friday class that my Lonni Rossi fabric quilt top, bolt of Andover geisha fabric and $130 of my purchases were gone. Nowhere to be found. Who other than a quilter would have stolen it from the hallway which is the last place I remember it when security and I were playing “Where’s Your Real Room.”
So I got a room upgrade – which cost them nothing, a bottle of champagne (I don’t drink), and vouchers for a few breakfast buffets. I’m out a lot of $$$.
MANHATTAN QUILTZILLA STRIKES AGAIN
A Pickle forwarded me a very nice blog entry regarding tips she got from my interview on Annie Smith’s podcast. Look who responded – the ass-breathed Calendar Girl – yes, the previously mentioned blogger, Manhattan “Calendar Girl” Quiltzilla strikes again. Take a look by clicking HERE.
Does this woman not have a life? Apparently being cooped up in a tiny Manhattan apartment with no friends (other than her computer) and a bad attitude makes for non-stop sociopathic acting out.
One little pill a day could change this woman’s whole life perspective. Of course, she’s the type who only thinks that OTHER people could benefit from psychotropics. We know she hates “large” people and “loud” people and, well, most people, but posting something like that on a stranger blog is not only bad manners it’s kinda’ psycho. In her defense: Maybe her diet pills are wearing off?
Speaking of blogs I found a few who have mentioned Quilter’s Home, Katmandu or me, recently. Take a look.
This fabric store (AbbiMays) blog/site is very well done. Not just because it’s my fabric but THIS is how an online shop should sell their fabrics. Make it an event, not a listing. This shop could probably sell anything! Bravo! Take a look at their Katmandu Video by clicking here.
Novmber 26th Entry of City Girl Quilts Blog mentions Katmandu
C&T PUBLISHING COMPANY
After some very minor negotiation, I have finally signed my contract to write 2 books for C&T. I know I’m going to be busy but these are books that just need to be written. I’m thrilled and eager to start right after I put this next issue to bed. The titles, et al, are top secret. I’ll let you know just as soon as I can.
MARK LIPINSKI HOME for NORTHCOTT
The new line is coming along fine. Jeff and I are hard at work on it. Our designer friend (designer and Martingale author), Amy Buehler came by this morning to give us another eye. Poor Amy had to sit through my and Jeff’s disagreement on color/scale. She’s like family, so she was cool. Jeff and I rarely argue – only over creative differences.
I have to admit, that while I love KATMANDU, I like this new, CALIFON, line better. I have also been inspired today for my next line. I’m excited about it. Ideas just come to you in the strangest of ways, don’t they?When are you most receptive to inspiration?