Then I get this card.

"Are you okay?"

"My throat is closing up, maybe we should leave."

This birthday card is an inside joke from my BFF Howard that I will not explain other than to say we are still celebrating our birthday together -- we were born on the same day. I will consult the Party Time chapter in my new Raw Energy Bible to determine if there is an emergency raw juice antidote one could administer to a vodka-allergic friend that you inadvertently ordered a vodka-based cocktail for -- premium of course. For future reference.

First I buy this book.

Happy Birthday to Me. I bought this book for myself as a birthday gift because as I was flipping through it I came across a section entitled Apples are Ace! With three bountiful apple trees I wanted to know more. The author purports apples keep your hair and nails lustrous and are a boost to your immune system. It's just as important to be clean on the inside as it is the outside.

And then there are RECIPEEEEES. After a piece of non-raw chocolate birthday cake I turned to my new bible. Keeping with the celebration theme I chose to read chapter Party Time. This is a totally cool bible. "Raw juices make the most sublime mixers for alcohol ..." I love balance.

Author Leslie Kenton stresses the importance of enjoying yourself and writes a premium brand of vodka that is exceptionally pure will not give you a hangover. Okay. Party Time. Her words. Not mine.

My Garden of Eden.

Local and organic food is always your best choice for the ultimate in nutritional value. No railway car contaminants, preservatives or touchy feely people in grocery stores to concern yourself with. I find it really difficult to go back to eating store bought apples after the deliciousness of my fruit trees in the summer.

Where is your sink?

The next time I have to visit my podiatrist courtesy of Mr. Louboutin I must remember to ask why there is no sink in the examining room. I made the same observation at a podiatrist's clinic in Miami.

Better than Touch Me And Die.

Not the most polite branding I have ever come across, but it could be worse. See above.

A multiple choice question.

This woman standing in the middle of the street in SoHo New York is either A: Trying to find her sense of direction. B: Trying to remember where she left her shoes. C: Trying to move out of harms way but can't because she stepped on some industrial strength glue with her her bare feet.

We don't want this package to go missing.

After watching five back to back episodes of True Blood this weekend -- which is getting more gruesome by the episode -- I was reminded of this not very in-focus photo I took on an airplane.

Before this, I had never knowingly been on a flight with HUMAN EYES. HUMAN EYES in a box that is. They were upfront in the cockpit. They appeared to be well packaged. I was grateful for that because I would hate to see one, or more than one, rolling down the aisle.

I found vomit on a seatbelt once and that was disgusting enough. The plane was grounded until they replaced the seatbelt for me. I did not even have to ask. The Air Canada flight attendant was ahead of me on this one.

You will have to use your imagination.

My friend just told me she found Sex On The Bedskirt in her room at a reputable hotel. She did the right thing and called housekeeping. Management did the right thing by asking if she would like to move to another room. It being late at night she chose not to. Housekeeping replaced the bedskirt with a brand new one.

Situations like this one are why I recommend wearing slippers in your hotel room because you never know when you will have to walk across a bedskirt. Pooh pooh me if you like, but if carpets could talk ... My friend was too traumatized to check the mattress. I believe you are better off knowing.

The other room.

The room with the private bath on the 7th floor at the Room in SoHo Loft is slightly larger than the one on the fifth. Both rooms have windows and air conditioning units. You just have to remember to turn the unit on. Right Zach?

Zach thought the Hygiene Hunter had failed him. According to Zach, his first night's sleep was horrible. He kept thrashing about. He was about to blame it on the mattress when he realized his restlessness was due to the New York summer heat.

So far. So fine. Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget is a success. Unlike a hotel, the linens are changed once a week as opposed to daily and you are responsible for making your own bed. In other words, tough love. Hit.

More glorious space.

Perhaps "on a budget" is not so terrible after all. A fire escape. Air conditioning. And this gallery space. The Room in SoHo Loft is a true find. The floor shows off in my presence. Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget turns out to be a beautiful thing. Hit.

Meet the kitchen.

I liked the ceramic cooktop in the kitchen at the Room in SoHo Loft. In theory, much easier for loft guests to clean. As a result of Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget, I have met two more great people with a fondness for sani wipes. Owners Albert and Michele. Albert tells me they have never had a problem with a guest yet. Which is great to hear considering the loft space they rent is also their private residence and work space. Hit.

My husband the hero.

It is amazing what can be accomplished while I am having a facial. Prescouting the location was a brilliant move by my husband. If someone has to be subjected to the aroma of brie and corpse as I was the other day, it best be him. No, I am not cruel. He just does not possess a keen sense of smell. Unlike I do.

Despite the shared bathroom I chose the Room in SoHo Loft. Not a sublet, but rather a fantastic B & B alternative. In a loft space. Hence the name. Owners Albert and Michele rent four rooms -- two on the fifth floor (shared bath) and two on the seventh (private baths). The use of common space on both floors including kitchen and living area, in addition to the sani wipes in the bathroom, impressed me. We were off to an excellent start. BTW the wipes were not planted by my husband. Kudos Albert and Michele. They did not know I am the Hygiene Hunter.

Space is a luxury when Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget. It appeared we had found clean/tidy/spacious. I did not, however, make a PayPal payment until I inspected the mattresses. Albert was open to the ritual. The mattresses passed on both the fifth and seventh floor. Zach would be splitting his time between two rooms because neither was available straight through for the length of his stay. Hit.

I have made a decision.

But you will have to wait to find out what it is. Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget continues next week.

The Devil Wears Prada. And Balenciaga?

My husband came through with a Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget shortlist. He even had the foresight to tour one of the properties. I said, "Let's start with that one." He made me feel like a hard to please person:( with his cautionary and emphatic disclaimer "Well, I like it." Reminder. I am not person. Nor a devil. Hygiene Hunter. Not an excuse. A given. The property is in SoHo, it is affordable and the owner is friendly. I am suspicious. And then ... I love what I see! In the ICK! Shared bathroom! I remind myself this place is for my son, not me. SANI WIPES ON THE TOILET TOP! Too perfect! I am suspicious! Did my husband plant the wipes there? To please me?

Onward.

After my facial at Deva Spa I felt revitalized. This is an absolute compliment to both Deva staff and space. Do you have a room to rent, I wonder as I meditate in front of the waterfall wall? After 2.5 hours, I feel relaxed enough to go on with Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget. Not relaxed enough to accept smells I could not identify. Not relaxed enough to be open to unadvertised pets. And not relaxed enough to spend $5,0000 plus a month. To be honest, my son was completely open to sleeping on a stranger's couch which is a popular option at Couch Surfing. So I did what only a self-respecting Hygiene Hunter could do and I tasked my husband with providing me a shortlist of rental properties I would be willing to consider. I waited for him at Caravan of Dreams in the East Village listening to the piano man and drinking a coconut shake.

Smelling salts please.

Budget is a problematic word. Particularly in New York. After viewing a couple -- and by a couple I truly mean two -- properties I am overcome with the vapors and seek refuge at Deva Spa. I convince myself that an aromatic facial is exactly what I need to continue Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget.

The things you do for your children.

Depending on how you look at it, I am either the best person to bring along with you on a sublet search or the worst. And if I am your mother you would know by now you would not be residing in a place -- however temporary -- that could possibly be harboring criminals of the itchy variety. This week: Sublet Hunting For My Son In New York On A Budget.

Tempting but tongless.

Glass jars with lids. Check. Lemonade in a sealed container. Check. Glasses wrapped in plastic. Check. Tongs for cookies? Doh!

Unattended farm stands are a quaint tradition along the country roads of Salt Spring Island. You take what you want and drop your cash into the tin on the honor system. I was conflicted and tortured because my Hygiene Hunter apprenticeship training precludes me from eating food that may have been handled by dozens of sticky fingers. This even applies to irresistible cookies. Even if nobody's watching. It's tough being a Hygiene Hunter apprentice.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Scooter pooch goes to market.

I'm not a big fan of dogs in places where food is being served like the Saturday market on Salt Spring Island. But this pooch scores for 1) his clean mode of transportation, and 2) being so adorable.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Fish in rehab.

The Saturday market on Salt Spring Island is famous for its wholesome, farm-fresh food. And the farm-less fish.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Goats and pinkies.

As a general rule, The Hygiene Hunter advises people to keep their fingers out of their eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Ditto for the goat's mouths at the Salt Spring Island Cheese Company. Hit.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Goats and cheese.

Salt Spring Island is famous for its artists, musicians and farm fresh food. The Salt Spring Island Cheese Company's spic and span cheese making process is on display behind glass for everyone to see, including The Hygiene Hunter's secret agent. Hit.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Horses up to no good.

I used to wash my car by hand. Not any more.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Dogs and sheep up to no good.

I stand here at the entrance to Ruckle Park on Salt Spring Island perplexed at this sign. I'm wondering two things.

1. Why no mention of cleaning up after your dog?

2. Did a certain Woody Allen movie make the fourth bullet necessary?

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Brother, can you spare a chair?

Two hours later.

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband

Brother, can you spare a couch?

Tattered. Torn. Mismatched. No longer wanted. Perhaps a hot bath and meal will make Mr. Sofa feel better. Will this specimen still be sitting on the lawn of the little old school house on Salt Spring Island two hours from now?

- The Hygiene Hunter's Husband