Its a Great Day But I Want to Hear the Singing of Birds; Department Delivering the Most Hugs and I Loves You; Three Coins in the Fountain; A New Mellow

Do you not hate those people that can always find something to complain about? (Actually we should be feeling sorry for them because they are so miserable but I have not quite reached that state of grace yet.) So I wake up to the most glorious morning in the whole world, with Vancouver in all of its dawn glory – lo and behold – a sunny day. The mountains are there, so is Stanley Park and Coal Harbor. But I am about to complain. I want bird songs, I had them in Dolphin Square, I had them at Gail’s in Coquitlam but none here. The windows do not open. They are kid proof I guess. (But you guys, I have no children!). There are not many birds up here on the 19th floor of the Trump International Hotel but I can see some. I guess I could do an App on my phone but it won’t be the same. 

The other day an engineer came to my room because my coffee machine was not working. We laughed a lot and he said: Prince Nathan To The Rescue! It was not him but another engineer who promised to do something about the window, I guess I will have to remind them. It needs a handle or something. This is usually the greatest hotel on earth but sometimes …. The sign pointing the way to registration has been on order for five weeks, the jacuzzi can be non operational for days at a time because the vendor is not responsible, a good picture of the Tower is around somewhere but not printed on anything. This place needs me. I am planning on redoing my resume any day now! Not that they will respond to it because they did not to the first one submitted to the Owner on May 31, 2017. He promised to send it to the Emperor, the Emperor passed the buck. “Passed the buck” is a strange colloquial expression meaning he “dodged and weaved”, which is another strange colloquial expression. I am so glad that English is my first language, otherwise I would be very confused. Actually English is my first and my last language and (even with that) I am still sometimes confused.
I get a lot of attention here as the first long term resident at Trump International Hotel (and probably the last long term resident). I will the last either be because I am a tough act to follow or because everyone has had enough of me. You choose. But the department that gets the reward for giving me the most hugs and “I Love You”s is (drum roll) Housekeeping. Perhaps I should institute a competition for all departments in this hotel. Goodness knows what the prize might be. My hand? That is on my mind because that was the theme of “Brave”, the Disney movie I watched last night out of sheer boredom and desperation.
 I am somehow reminded of a funny incident that occurred just outside the Mott 32 restaurant. A darling little boy looked out the window at the water feature on West Georgia Street. I guess he had been to Rome or seen the movie “Three Coins in the Fountain” (joke) because he indicated to his mother that he wanted to throw some money in the fountain. She demurred but I intervened saying: “I have heard that the Owner likes money so I am sure it would be OK.” But the mother distracted him and the water was outside and he was inside. It really happened, I always tell the truth. 
So fasten your seat belts everyone because to all that know me this is going to come as a total surprise and I always tell the truth. I am mellowing out (which is a colloquial expression for calming down and becoming slightly compassionate.) This is an example. I usually rail and rant at women who show their all. A more tactful way of saying that is to say that they wear extremely low cut tops and very skimpy bottoms. But I observed a woman in that attire a couple of days ago (here at the Trump actually) and I felt sorry for her, I pitied her. She must feel she has to do that to get attention, to attract someone to her. She thinks that is her most attractive quality; probably her only attractive quality. My close friends are in agreement with me, I want to admired, to be loved for my mind, not my body. I do have breasts, and they are real but they are rather incidental. So I just smiled at this woman tolerantly. (Please pass the smelling salts, tens of people have fainted.) I have some ideas but I do not really know what is responsible for this revolting development (joke). But as friend Collette and I discussed on the phone yesterday, looking to the WHY of everything is a waste of time. One can never really know. If it is something good, just enjoy it. If it is bad, try and forget it. 
What sort of picture could accompany this post? I suppose me in a low necked dress but I do not think such a picture exists. But I will look – sometimes I am not perfect. 

The nearest I could come