The W South Beach. TRULY a full service hotel.
Would you spend a million dollars on your wedding? Even if you HAD a million dollars, which, if you’re reading this I’m assuming you don’t. Because you would be on your yacht double-fisting champagne and not reading blogs.
Well if you would, if this is something that makes you say, you know what? Yes. I WOULD spend a million dollars on a wedding package then WOO BOY do I have good news for you. The W Hotel South Beach has got you covered.
You get spa services, a seaplane (every little girl’s wedding dream!), a yacht, and even cufflinks! You do nothing but show up! Oh, and pay a million dollars.
And, as IF that isn’t enough. If your wedding night is not feeling spicy enough for you, or if your best man fails to hook up with your maiden of honor, guess what else the W South Beach can get you?
That’s right. Hookers.
I’ve called to see if they are included in the million dollars, and will update when I hear back.
So as many of you know by now, we have moved to Houston. I know, right? It’s crazy! Not only did we move to Houston, we moved into an apartment. Not only did we move in to an apartment, we moved in to a second floor apartment in a three story building.
This has led to some interesting dynamics, being as we’ve become unaccustomed to having someone live above and below us. Primarily above us.
These people (I’m assuming it’s people, plural. Either that or an eight-legged man) have some sort of an interesting ritual where from the hours of 3 am and 6 am, they wake up and make a lot of noise with their feet. I know this because their room is directly above ours.
The first morning in our new apartment, we awoke at 3 am to the creaks, groans and stomps. We lay there in bed, blinking in disbelief. What was this sorcery?
Since we mostly like to have fun here at The Unstable Table, I feel compelled to warn you that this post isn’t fun. It’s dark and it’s sad and I think we should talk about it. Continue reading
I’m feeling rather cranky and hormonal. I go between feeling happy and content to wanting to stab my self in the eye with a fork. Continue reading
Dear Leather Recliner,
I’m sitting on you now, letting myself feel the comfort of you one last time. Goodbyes are hard, and to be frank, I suck at them.
Give us two weeks and we could totally do this...
Today was a banner day in my household. After years of my mother asking and now months of me asking, also…I got my husband to a hot yoga class.