For Immediate Release

SUSAN CLARKE ATTEMPTS TO CREATE PERMANENT VACATION CONDITIONS AT HOME

Sept. 9, 2008. LOS ANGELES, Calif. Susan Clarke faced the post-Labor Day doldrums head-on this week by ordering hundreds of dollars worth of high-end sheets, towels, micro-roasted coffee beans, and other luxury items off the internet. The uncharacteristic shopping spree was an effort to rage against the dying of summer and to upgrade her housing amenities to the level she fell in love with at a boutique hotel over the summer. “I want to feel like I’m in an awesome hotel all the time” she explained, fully aware that this will not be easy in a 1970s apartment that is outfitted with grey office carpeting and popcorn ceilings.

Clarke began her journey to vacationland in the bedroom, dropping a pile of dough on one thousand threadcount sheets and a comforter cover that aim to achieve the “white poofy cloud” experience of a boutique hotel bed. She added four significantly overstuffed pillows to encourage sitting up in bed and reading the paper, and ordered four pounds of coffee beans from a top Pacific Northwest coffee roaster to enjoy while doing so. Clarke hopes that the “white poofy cloud” will encourage actual bed newspaper reading and coffee drinking at home, where such an indulgence is often overruled by the need to check work emails or feed the cat. “By creating a vacation-like space, I hope to reach a vacation-like state of mind. Which means nothing will really seem that important anymore and I may possibly get fired.”

The iPod dock and little notepads and pens for the bedside tables should arrive by the end of the week. For the desk, Clarke is creating a linen bound book containing copies of local restaurant menus. The laminated emergency escape map of the building should be ready to mount on the back of the door by the end of the week. Further vacation reclamation plans include spending significantly more time sitting in warm water — formerly a vacation-only indulgence that was impossible at home due to a broken tub drain. A weekend DIY project put an end to that situation and Clarke is now able to enjoy relaxing bubble baths followed by several hours of lounging in a (stolen) oversized terrycloth robe, eating small packets of smoked almonds, and not caring about anything.

Five-star service remains the only outstanding issue that Clarke has been unable to replicate in her upgraded housing situation. On her current salary, she cannot afford housekeeping, laundry, concierge, or butler service of any kind, and is left with no choice but to put a bow tie on the cat and pretend that he is doing things for her when he is actually not. Clarke’s boyfriend turned down this imaginary job offer prior to it being foisted on the feline.

As of press date, the hotel has not called about the robe.

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