Happy Trails To You

Tomorrow I leave for my final flight of 2010. It's a quick one - just about 45 minutes in the air - down to Philadelphia/South Jersey to spend the holidays with my family. But as I sit here, decidedly NOT packing despite the 12-day length of my trip, I realized that this year might just top all others in terms of airline travel, at least in simple terms of quantity of actual flights taken. So let's do what we Type-A personalities do best...make a list :

January
N/A (ha! that wouldnt last long!)

February
Boston-->San Diego
San Diego-->Boston

March
Boston-->Chicago
Chicago-->Boston

April
Boston-->Vegas
Vegas-->Boston

May
Boston-->San Fran
San Fran-->Boston
Boston-->Toronto
Toronto-->Boston
Boston-->Atlantic City
Atlantic City-->Boston

June
Boston-->London
London-->Boston

July
Boston--Phoenix-->Honolulu
Honolulu-->Maui
Maui--Honolulu-Phoneix-->Boston

August
Boston-->Philly
Philly-->Boston

September
Boston-->San Fran
San Fran-->Philly
Philly-->Boston

October
Boston-->Philly
Philly-->Boston
Boston-->San Fran
San Fran-->Boston

November
Boston-->Atlanta
Atlanta-->Boston

Dember
Boston-->San Fran
San Fran-->Boston
Boston-->London
London-->Boston
Boston-->Philly......

HOT DAMM. And you'd think by now I would be a better packer. How am I not?  Well the good news is that I got to my three new places of 2010 (more on that later) and its been an amazingly exciting year.  The even better news is that I'm finally getting a chance to sit still for a while...at least until I head to Toronto mid-Jan and start it all over again!

Seasons Greetings all...and happy travels!!

The Journey Is The Destination

Those that know me know that I travel. A lot. I personally love exploring new places (see: rule of three) and, as an event planner, I also am fortunate enough to travel for work - which is something I consider a wonderful bonus. I never want to spend 52 weeks a year in an office, my true love is being on site and that requires a bit of a journey.  In my semi-new job as Event Manager at Eloqua, I do travel a bit more than I have in recent years, which is both a treat and sometimes a challenge.

I measure in at 6'1" tall but most of my height in my legs.  This means that, more often than not, the seat pitch - the distance between one point on a seat and the same point on the seat behind - is less than the distance from my hip to my knee, say LV's pitch. This usually results in a cool new tattoo on my knee of the safety guide stuck in the seatback pocket.  To combat this, I typically only fly JetBlue Airways, which has one of the largest seat pitch standards in the biz - 34". I also love their product, their friendliness, their free tv...  But last week I flew out to San Francisco and needed an early flight so decided to try Virgin America.  My friend Erica raves about it, let's give it a whirl.

All in all, I found the experience to be very nice.  The security line was ridiculously short, the staff was courteous, the seats had tvs. BUT...their seat pitch still wasnt as high as JetBlue's and I found myself slightly uncomfortable the entire time.(grrrr) On the positive side, the plane was half full so I was able to monopolize a middle seat for my leg extensions but hate to think of what the experience would've been like had I been relegated to my seat only. 

End result: Richard Branson, you seem like a swell guy (and once in London I even got to go to your private club - thanks!), but I'm sticking with JB for now. I fly back to Boston today and booked a JB flight back and the joy of knowing my knees will be free from torture is overwhelming. And the free cookies don't hurt.

"I read that on your blog"

Earlier tonight someone remarked to me in passing, "Oh right. I read that on your blog." My first thought was, My what? OH RIGHT I HAVE A BLOG. My second thought was, hot damm. I can't even remember the last time I posted to my blog. What oh what must they think of me? The word delinquent came to mind. So did overworked and stressed and busy and TiVo.  But this is no time for excuses.  It's time to get back on the horse. Jump on that bandwagon. Monday morning quarterback....hmmm that doesn't work so instead [insert cliche here] and let's move on.

In an attempt to kick start my blog habit, I started thinking about why I created this blog in the first place.

1) I don't think I am an excellent writer (nor is it an activity that I actually enjoy) and thought this would be a good way to force myself to practice/learn to love it.

2) I wanted to tell "tall" tales of my adventures in Boston - and how frequently my height comes into play in all sorts of situations.

3) Many of my friends and family live far away and perhaps this is a way for them to follow my stories. Ya know, bc I dont post them on Twitter or Facebook so CLEARLY the lack of LHV information in the world is a big problem.

4) Sarcasm is a tough tone to nail in writing. Something to work on.

I think far too often I try to come up with thematic posts - ones that really showcase the TALL issues - and I got bogged down in the details.  So while I am still going to focus on 1-4 above, there might be times when I go off the rails. If it gets me posting more often, I am ok with it. In the meantime, for those casual readers wondering what I have been up to since July, here is a quick recap so we're all on the same page:

• July - amazing 10-day family vacation to Fairmont Maui
• August - moved to the 2nd floor of my building, as per the "request" of my landlord's daughter. #fail
• September - lots and lots of long hours to prep for...
• October - my biggest event of the year (and the largest single event I've ever planned solo), Eloqua Experience, which goes off without a hitch. VICTORY!
• November - Green Beans w Bacon Vinaigrette, Buble at the Garden

So welcome back to me, LHV. Let's see where we go from here!

I Can't Miss You If You Won't Leave

OH HELLO THERE FRIENDS! Have you missed me? Probably not but only because I have been so busy mouthing off on Twitter or blogging on my new company's corporate blog, It's All About Revenue
(it's not all dorky marketing stuff, I promise! RSS feed it, throw a tomato at me later if you disagree).

So in an effort to end my not-so-strictly-imposed social silence, I'm declaring the three month new-job transition period (the time allotted to let your life just drift away from "normal" and into "holy crap, I need to work 43 hours per day to 1) impress my co-workers and 2) figure out how to use this freakin fax machine/phone/laptop/expense accounting system/payroll...oh how the list goes on") officially OVER (it's not you, it's me). Let's back up -- on March 1st, I started working for Eloqua, a software company that focuses on marketing automation. It's been an amazing three months, can't rave enough about my new boss or declare how lucky I feel to be at an organization that recognizes and appreciates talent. But with any new job, even one you love, the transition period is a tough one. Adjustments must be made, judgments will be given, clothing choices will be analyzed. So you put normal life on a shelf for a bit and that includes things like leaving work at a normal hour, hitting the gym, blogging. Ok, so blogging wasn't a totally normal thing for me but roll with it.

So the three month (+ a lil extra) period has just passed, as well as my vacation (more on that to come shortly) and I woke up this morning with a shot - it's time to get back to business. Focusing on fitness, preparing for a busy fall both professionally and personally and starting to plan for new living arrangements (more on that to come shortly too). First up? Putting it down on virtual paper. Making it real. Or as real as a blog can get that mostly only Katy, Nikki and my cat read on a regular basis.

What does any of this have to do with being tall? Nothing, except I'm doing it. And I'm tall. So that works.

Stay tuned.

If The Shoe Fits..

Dear Jimmy, Manolo, Cole, Tory, Jeffrey, Steve and others,

I write to you not out of obligation but of necessity. Labor Day is over, fall is officially approaching and, while I am not at all prepared to put away my SPF 4 or my tank tops, the crisp wind in the air does signify the start of something wonderful: boot season. Forget what the song says, boot season is by far the most wonderful time of the year. Tights, skirts, scarves, trench coats - they all serve to flatter the boot and that first time you get to strut down Newbury St wearing your slammin calfskin Tory Burch booties, you feel like a kid again. I mean, look at this gorgeous art that Cole Haan has presented us with - grey suede with a bold silver buckle. It's heaven...as long as you're 5'8" and under.

These grey boots have a 3 1/4" heel. Math isn't my strong suit but just humor me for a minute. As I stand at 6'1" (eh, 6'1" and 1/2" but who is counting?), if I were to don this pair of shoes, I would measure in/up at 6'4" and 3/4". Do you know how tall 6'4" is?? I love my height, always have (well except for those high school years but, come on, I had to stand at the back of every class photo and after a while the ego takes a brusin!), but I love shoes more. Exhibit A: my shoe wall. I'm fortunate enough to be the benefactor of a ridiculously large walk-in closet and I arranged it so that an entire wall is dedicated to shoes. Hey, if you can do it, you do it. Check it out. Pretty sweet huh?

While this picture proves that I certainly havent had any trouble finding shoes to purchase, I do so long for the day when kitten heels are just as popular as stilettos. Yes I will concede that the return of the ballet flat has done wonders for this section of my closet, but when it comes to boots - heel height still reigns surpeme. Last year, I spent about six months looking for a respectable pair of black work boots but the choices were always flat heeled riding boots (not a look I can pull off) or towering high heeled classic leather stylish boots. Why no middle ground? Do you think that there isnt a market for clean, classic boots with a small heel? Put down that market research report because I can tell you one thing for sure: the market is there. I'll sustain it myself if I have to! But it's there.

A quick search of Nordstrom.com's shoe section (which I will applaud as having a large range of size 11 shoes, a familiar stomping ground for us tall girls), with the request being for boots with a 1-2" heel results in shoes that can mostly be lumped into two groups: cowboy boots. and gollashes. You're better than that. I have faith that you will see the light and provide me with darling boots with respectable non-stileeto heels. I know you can do it. I believe in you. I have to. It's either that or I resort to wearing these floral-embossed cowboy boots and, with all due respect, that ain't gonna happen.

Sincerely yours,

Laura

Spin It To Win It

I recently started taking spinning classes at the Beacon Hill Athletic Club, mostly to avoid my other gym which can get a little hot in the summertime. That's primarily because my "other gym" is my living room. For nine months a year it is a great location to rock out to Wii Fit and Wii Fitness Coach but, while I enjoy picturing certain folks' faces on the boxing bag while I punch, jab and weave into thin air (use your imagination), come June-July-August its time for a change of scenery.

Fortunately, Groupon came into my life and, if you don't know Groupon, stop what you are doing (yes, I am aware that what you are doing is reading my blog) and go sign up now. I will wait. OK, welcome back. So Groupon had a summer deal (20 visits for $30! arent you glad you signed up?) to the gym and I figured it was worth it to try something new. A random Monday I decided to take a spinning class and, I have to say, I was hooked after the first go. Its dark, its loud, you can be competitive while biking and yet you control your pace and your resistance so a lot of times it is just about beating yourself. It is an intense, calorie-burning, quick, high energy 60 minutes and the time just flies by. Seven classes later, I consider myself a regular (not a novice but by no means a veteran) and I don't plan on stopping any time soon.

But here's the thing: I am 100% too tall for the spinning bikes. Either that or the spinning bikes are 100% too short for me. Regardless of how you spin it (I HAD TO DO IT), its lose-lose. The first class I just thought, ouch, this is kinda tough to lean over this far on the handlebars. The second class a different instructor was kind enough to increase the handlebar height for me and it was better but by the third class, a final instructor said, this really ought to be higher. So, all confident and brazen on my third day, I pulled the handlebars up to get it to the height she felt would be most fitting for me. Too bad I had already pulled the handlebars off the bike itself. Uhhh....ooops. A quick adjustment later I was back on my way but it was now with the realization that it *could* be a better experience if I just weren't so damm tall. If my legs didn't almost touch the ground when I sat on the bike. If my arms didn't dangle over the front of the handlebars. If I could somehow raise the seat even higher so that I would be practically flying. If only....

I have decided to see my bike's limitations as an additional workout challenge (as it does force me to utilize more back muscles and, lets face it, that's where the muffin top lurks) but I do wonder if my fellow spin masters look over at me during class and think "why are her handlebars 7 ft higher than her bike?" But then I lean over, cycle past them on our imaginary bike path and think, "ha! my love handles will be gone before yours!" Well, that and, "Suck it." At least they aren't makin me ride this:

(Gotta love Google image search - this is apparently what happens when you Google "tall person bike")

The (Tall) French Chef

I went to see Julie and Julia today, a new film about two women with a passion for cooking and I loved it. Not just pleasantly enjoyed it or chuckled through it but rather I want to write sonnets in its honor, bestow raves upon it, give it two thumps up, etc. But this should come as no big surprise to anyone who knows me...

Julie Powell, an office worker drowning in her cubicle, decides to embark on a tremendous task: in one year, she'll cook her way though Julia Child's epic 524-recipe magnum opus "How to Master the Art of French Cooking" and blog about the experience. I read the book when it was released and thought it was a great story of "average girl seeks life changing experience"...and actually gets it! The movie, though, goes a step further to include the bio of Julia Child herself. And since I've never read Julia's biography, it opened my eyes to someone I should've been admiring for a long time. Why? She's tall. And loves to eat. REMIND YOU OF ANYONE? (cough cough...me)

While Julie's story is heartwarming and reminds you that sometimes good things do happen to those who earn them (she wants to be a writer, she starts a blog, she gets published...you get the idea), it was really Julia's section of the movie that so moved me. For the unfamiliar, Julia Child stood 6'2" tall - and the director, Nora Ephron, goes to great heights (ha!) to showcase this in the film. She married a man considerably shorter than she was, she lived in France where she towered over every local she encountered, she wore heels (!). And yet, instead of people being overwhelmed by her, her height and her strident nature (which is how I often feel), they embraced her for it. It became her calling card - well that and her ridiculously enjoyable trill of a voice - and I'm completely enamored with how she was able to laugh at her height, use it, embrace it. Definitely a lesson I've tried to learn but one where I can always use a refresher course.

Certainly it was not Julia's height that made her famous or brought her acclaim. But neither was it something she used as an impediment to those goals and for that I say bravo! Oh and of course...bon appetit!