So far I’ve enjoyed two of those so-pretty-they’re-kitschy blue-into-orange sunsets like we just don’t get over the Atlantic; one deeply gratifying afternoon of inspecting Abbot-Kinney Boulevard in Venice’s many excellent shops (damage done; details later) and, best of all, the company of the most charming, brand spanking new baby to enter my family in quite some time. Oh, and my hotel—it’s perfectly great: nice service, skinny mirrors in the elevators—no complaints at all. Except for one.
Behold the beauty product minibar. I don’t know how much longer I can be expected to hold out. Evil, evil genius.