Friday, April 23, 2010

Love Shack Baby!

No word can sum up the excitement I'm feeling right now. I think "transplendent" has been used before, in an old SNL sketch, so I can't coin that one. It’s something close to that, some sort of excitetritude, some kind of benestaticness (no, that sounds like my husband is in need of hairspray on his pants, and that’s just odd.). No, the kind of excitement I’m feeling is closer to that which I felt before the first time in twenty-seven years I went to Disneyland. Or the euphoria that swept over me as Ben and I flew off on our honeymoon while the Act I finale from “Sunday in the Park with George” played on my headset and I was so happy I was weeping.

No tears here, but bubbly, solar plexus-tingling dandelion yellow pure glee.

I found the website I heard about for a while, I visited it and I learned what I needed to know. And that information has infused one of my upcoming Roadtrips with that extra bit of shucksidarned greatness that I’m so needing for my project, especially since I’ve been off the Road for months, been battling ennui that’s come from having less v.o. work overall, and, more than likely, dealing with a little seasonal affective disorder, even with all the caffeine I ingest to hopefully rectify the complaint.

The website is The Kate in question is one Kate Pierson of the lauded-since-I-was-sixteen B-52s. She and her partner found an old motel in the Catskills, renovated the shacks and cabins, dragged over a small army of groovy Airstream trailers, furnished everything with coveted Mid-Century geegaws and doodads and opened her dream B&B back in 2004.

But it’s only been in the last few days, when Ben and I realized that our next Roadtrip would include Pennsylvania and Upstate New York, that the reality of our staying there came within the realm of the "for real."

I’ve checked out the photos, taken an online tour. Turquoisey walls, checkered red and white sofas, tikis, and kidney-shaped just about anything. Kate’s and my aesthetic run poodle nose to poodle nose on a great circle skirt of shared quirkiness. Plus, since it’s located in the Catskills, there will inevitably be a supper club nearby, for Rob Roys and shrimp cocktails.

Ms Pierson, your inn was opened for you, but it was made for me. Thank you in advance for the Prell and Cashmere Bouquet in the bathroom.

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