Last Kiss Goodnight...

I don't really remember when I started my good night ritual. Perhaps it was on my permanent return home from college that started it, or perhaps I did it in my younger years and just don't quite remember. Right before I head off into my room at night, I'd lean over to each parent and make them kiss me good night. "Enforced chummi" (kiss) my late Father used to call it. "What if I don't feel like kissing you tonight?"he'd ask. "Tough,"I'd say and as I always did with him, would get my way. Sometimes my cheek was met with affection, sometimes with a quick kiss and moved aside if my head blocked a particularly interesting movie or TV show on the telly, and sometimes my cheek was just left unkissed and ignored. This was/is usually done by my Mother and is the ultimate show of anger. "I'm too angry with you to kiss you good night," that signals. "I'm too pissed off with you right now and know how much this will bother you but I really want to signal my anger across anyway," is what it really means. And on the really, really rare occasion, I won't lean in and motion for a kiss at all. "I don't care if you kiss me good night," is what it signals. "You know how much this action means to me and yet I won't even ask for it, so you can only imagine how upset with you I am," it says. Yes, a tiny little gesture can communicate so very much.
"What if I don't wake up tomorrow?"was given by way of explanation, "Or what if you don't," I'd tell my Mother at the rare instance she'd refuse to partake in my nightly ritual. "Do you really want either one of us to not remember our last interaction with each other?"My mother would then roll her eyes at what she viewed as the over dramatization of crazy thoughts that ran through my mind. The last kiss goodnight to me meant that no matter how bad we fought that day, we'd by a small action proverbially raise a white flag and make peace- at least for the night. It meant that no matter what, I was loved. It meant that no matter how badly I may have, or you think I may have behaved, I'm sorry. Mind you I have no qualms slamming a door shut having had a fight, or going off for a drive in a huff or parting a variety of fights in a variety of different circumstances at various times of the day without worrying about parting words. Yet there was always this thought that consumed me- If either one doesn't survive this night, we'd always have parted having shown we loved each other, and most importantly, having made peace.
Then one day in April in 2002, I woke up to the day I'd never see my Father alive again. My father was supposed to be sent out of the ICU that day in fact, but early that morning decided to instead leave us forever. I don't remember the night before clearly, but I remember it being late at night and me asking my Mother if it was too late for me to sneak into the ICU and see my dad. She had probably said to try anyway, and I remember distinctly walking towards his room. My last conversation with him is completely lost in my memory (which is strange as I remember his last words to me that afternoon as if it was yesterday- "The show must go on") as is any interaction with him that evening. I only remember that he was sleeping and I woke him up only to, you guessed it, have him give me one last kiss goodnight.

Over the years I've had spats with friends and loved ones and while it completely makes sense that sometimes their normal reaction is to "want space"or to "give it some time" or "take a break" my request is always to sort the issue out then and there. To hell with going to sleep sad, mad or upset I say... stay up and fight!! I recently had a conversation with a friend who explained they thought it was better to not fight and say hurtful things in the moment that couldn't be taken back, but rather let both people involved cool down and then come to the table. "What? So you'd rather leave things unsaid and let people stay upset in the time being?" I asked, clearly horrified. "Just smooth things out then and there," I say having visions of me not being able to sleep at night.  At least whichever way things go you'll end the day knowing where you stand is my thought process. I hate going to sleep with a weight on my chest, and I think the more the person matters, the more it matters to me to "make things ok." Making things ok doesn't mean giving in, it means coming to a solution sooner rather than later as I hate letting hurt or angry feelings linger. Each time a friend, lover or parent has walked out on an argument I've always felt... well... abandoned for lack of a better word. I think most of us would like to "go" peacefully in our sleep if we could, so why not end the day having made peace with all around us? Even if making peace means letting go.
Weird, perhaps. But that's just me, and you know what? For the most part, it allows me to sleep like a baby.


L

Hotel Review- Mandarin Oriental Paris

Image taken from Mandarin Oriental website

My friend Nadia and I were heading to Paris for a few days and after doing much research, decided to book a stay at the Mandarin Oriental. Two years ago I'd head to Paris at the same time and had then stayed at the Hotel Crillon where I usually stay and love. Last year when I headed to Paris for the Paris Fashion Week I decided to stay at the Ritz as that's where my sister was staying and I figured it was more convenient for us both to be at the same hotel. Unfortunately both the hotels were shut for renovation and as Nadia hadn't been to Paris before, I was left to pick the hotel. The Mandarin Oriental had the largest rooms and was conveniently located, and despite me having walked into the lobby of the hotel during my last visit and not thinking much of it, I figured it's a Mandarin Oriental.. How bad can it get??

We arrived late into Paris and by the time we reached the hotel Nadia and I were pretty tired and ready to get a good nights rest. I'd warned her about the garish lobby already (the above pic is from their website and as website pictures go, not exactly an accurate representation of what it looks like) and she understood what I'd meant when she walked in. There is no sign of Parisian understated elegance and instead was a hotel that as I put it the first time around, looked like a hotel in Abu Dhabi- and not in a good way. Anyhow we headed up to our room and were a little taken aback by what we were greeted there. The twin beds we requested weren't there and instead we were given a double bed with an extra bed thrown in- that was the first surprise. The second surprise was the decor of the room itself and the quality of furniture and fittings. The room now looked to us like a 3 or 4 star hotel in Abu Dhabi. To add fuel to the fire we realized our bed, the main one not the extra bed we'd been given, had a broken spring of some sort. Needless to say we called and complained. We asked for plugs to charge our phones- the plugs didn't work. We called and complained. They had very sweetly left out a bottle of champagne and a cake for my birthday before we got there. Only problem? The cake had attracted many, many mosquitoes. Needless to say, we called and complained. The Manager that evening went out of her way to make our stay better and tried giving us like a triple upgrade to a duplex suite to make it up to us. While in the room checking it out though, I noticed that the handle on a cupboard door had fallen out and Nadia and I couldn't stop laughing at what seemed to be a year old hotel falling apart. Needless to say we didn't stay in the room and asked for another one. Really, when you're paying a 1000 Euros a night, you expect for your room to be immaculate, your hotel perfect and things to function flawlessly. The room we finally got was apparently worth 1800 Euros a night, offered to us at the same rate and Nadia and I both thought that it just made sense for us to stay put. That's when we realized after a sweaty night that the AC didn't function properly and the breakfast was bad (who has even heard of bad croissants in France?!) and when Nadia saw a door that seemed to be held together by scotch tape (no joke) we decided that even our quadruple upgrade couldn't make us stay put. We ate breakfast, went over to the George V and practically begged them to find us a room.

So here's the deal with the Mandarin Oriental in Paris- the service, despite what I just wrote, is amazing. They tried their best to accommodate us and it reached a stage where we were almost apologetic to leave. I'd forgotten to inform the Emirates Limo my change of address when it came time to take us back to the airport- When he announced himself at the Mandarin they actually told him to head over the George V and that I'd moved a few days earlier. The Manager who took care of us the night we arrived really was amazing, so much so that I left her the bottle of champagne they'd kept for me. After we left I had the Manager of the Hotel email me and profusely apologize and offer me a free night at the hotel the next time I come into Paris. Nadia and I both realized in a day or 2 that as good as the George V was, the service didn't quite match up to the Mandarin Oriental's.

Would I go back and stay there? No. Great service is one thing, but the hotel decor was just way too tacky for my taste. It was done, we were told, in the style matching the 1930's which I found hilarious as I think it to be the most boring and uneventful decade style-wise in the 20th century, but what do I know? Maybe others would love the hotel but personally I wouldn't want to stay there again.

While perfectly acceptable, I didn't think much of the room decor.. especially for the price

Thought the velvet mural on the wall in the room was scary and tacky

The corridors were in 1930's style. Again, not befitting of a Mandarin Oriental!

The wallpaper!!!!