Scootin'

Yesterday, my sweetheart and I took to the streets on the Vespa. It was a gorgeous day. In great irony, the weatherman had called for rain, but the sky could not have been bluer or brighter. We were transported to the tropics, suddenly on a Caribbean island, and we couldn't resist climbing on the scooter for a ride around town and down to the beach. Shorts, t-shirts, sandals...me in a ponytail, a golf hat and no make-up. It was blissful freedom, floating about on a little Italian scooter, without a care in the world. We loved it. Bellissimo!!

I continue to be a little squeamish about piloting the Vespa alone, after I plowed it into a Jaguar that first day, but I'm so loving the freedom of it, I'm vowing to get back on the horse and ride. It's a blast, truly. I do love that little Italian baby!!

Welcome to the Party, Mr. Brown

To my British friends...do be careful out there. It's a dangerous world, on every corner now....and all brought to you by the "religion of peace".

Hopefully, all those security cameras will pay off. Although I understand that the driver of the first Mercedes was someone they caught earlier related to 7/7, and they let him go due to 'lack of evidence'. I don't suppose it matters how many they round up if they're just going to let them go. There's nothing like a recycled terrorist to make your day.

Please, be safe!

Eva the Diva

I'm making another appointment with Eva for next week. Eva is the thick-accented Polish lady who gives the best massage on the planet. But, that's not the half of it. I would describe Eva as somewhat of a modern-day witch doctor, of the positive variety (no voodoo, no chicken heads or goat sacrifices, just an unusual dose of spirituality and uncommon insight). She's very spiritual. Her premise is that everything comes from God, and we need to let Him flow through our lives, let go of the stress and negativity, and just let Him in. It sounds eery, but it's actually a very positive experience all the way around.

While Eva massages you, she "connects" with things. She finds your "energy" and moves it around, if it's out of kilter. But she also picks up on things you didn't tell her. All of a sudden, she'll ask you about something that she should absolutely have no knowledge about. She says she feels the energy of it. And she's usually right. So in addition to the best massage ever, it can be a very interesting experience.

I've had friends say that while she is working with them, they'll be flooded with memories they hadn't thought of in years, things they'd thought they'd forgotten, all of a sudden recalled in brilliant visual detail. Supposedly, it's part of the energy thing, finding it and focusing it in places that will help and heal.

Next week, in addition to the massage, I am also getting a "foot detox". Haven't had this before, but my friends who have said it is amazing. You release bodily toxins through a foot bath, which starts with clear, salty water and twenty minutes later results in some strange colors present, with each of the colors representing some toxin that has been released, varying from person to person. Sounds hokey, but my friends are swearing by it, full of renewed energy afterwards. And apparently, if you repeat the de-tox several times over a time period, the water will eventually stay clear, and the de-tox is complete. Hmmm....painless, inexpensive, and worth a try just to see what happens.

As for the massage, this is where Eva will 'see' things as she works on me. That's the really interesting part. I'm curious about this especially -- She told me some insightful things last time I did this. And I'm not going to tell her about the miscarriage; I want to see if she tells me about it. Will report back on this next week.

Old and Uncool

I'm too old and uncool to know anything about her, but I really like that Amy Winehouse song, "Rehab". I liked it the first time I heard it, which is rare for me. A song usually has to grow on me. But I saw her sing it on something not long ago, and I thought it was different and catchy. Then I heard it playing overhead at the gym the other day. If the rest of her latest CD is equally catchy, I might just have to pick it up.

Also, here's another favorite tune that once again proves how out of it I am musically -- John Legend's 'Save Room'. I hear it once or twice a day on the local jazz/R&B station, and it sort of transports me somewhere. It's refreshing, like cool water on a hot day. I might have to go find more stuff by him as well.

It's so sad. As a teen, I remember how out of it my parents seemed musically, and I thought they were so old and uncool and that I would never be like that. But it looks like I am. Show me a Top Ten list, and I might have inadvertently heard of one or two of the artists contributing, but that's about it. How does that happen?

Crabcakes & Eye Cream

Reporting back on yesterday's Ritz and Not Famous adventure....

First of all, I dug in my closet and found a shift-style sundress I'd bought at a street market a while back. I enjoyed the irony of wearing a $10 dress with a $250 pair of sunglasses. :) I bet I had on the only $10 dress at the Ritz that day (or ever). I'm surprised it didn't set off alarms when I entered the building. :)

As for my attention-seeking associate, she did not disappoint. She wore something cut way down to 'there' and way up to 'here', from Bed, Bath and Beyond's shower curtain fashion line. It was something that harkened back to the 60's, something I'd expect to see on a high school or college-age girl, and then only one who managed to get out of the house without her father seeing it. I was truly shocked at her fashion choice, especially given that she's in her early 50s. Usually, if you can remember the first time something was in style, you won't wear it when it comes back around the second time. My feeling is that it's something she wanted to wear as a young girl, but her mother wouldn't let her. Now, as an adult, it's back, and at last she has her chance, regardless of how ridiculous it looks.

The other ladies were dressed well, sporty, stylishly, and age appropriate.

We lunched on the outdoor patio overlooking the pool area and the Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful, tropical day, and it was fabulous. We ate crabcakes over greens and sipped peach martinis. Yum.

Afterwards, we wandered over to the center of Palm Beach to check out the shops on Worth Avenue. For those of you who aren't familiar with that, Worth Avenue is one of the most expensive shopping streets in the U.S. It's Florida's Rodeo Drive. Designer stores, estate jewelers, high-end everything. And I couldn't possibly buy a THING on most of that street, but it's fun to walk through and look at the shops and wonder what silly people are paying those kinds of prices for things. And now and then a celebrity sighting will occur (last visit, Rod Stewart), although we didn't see anyone yesterday.

We spent most of our time poking around at the sale at Neiman Marcus (the most affordable store on the block, yet also financial insanity). One of the ladies wandered through the cosmetics section and immediately became the hostage of flawlessly made-up cosmetic kidnappers, who took over her face and turned her into a glam queen. She did actually look great, and their scheme must have worked, because she ended up spending a fortune on the new makeup. It was not unlike paying a ransom to her captors to secure her own release. But she looked FAB-u-lous, darling! Worth the incarceration and money, to her, anyway.

I, myself, got sucked into buying the latest eye cream. It was far too expensive, but I must say that general consensus is that it works. The fine lines disappeared almost immediately. I wondered how they crammed a tiny little plastic surgeon into that jar, but apparently, they did. Either that, or someone behind the scenes was adjusting the lighting in the store as soon as that cream hit my face. (I wouldn't put it past them).

All in all, a good day. An indulgent day -- beach lunch, martinis, Worth Avenue and expensive eye cream. But you gotta have an indulgent day with the girls now and then. And my $10 dress enjoyed visiting some places it never thought it would see. :)

Ritz and Not Famous

Today, I am venturing out to do lunch with "the girls". I'm scouring my closet for something elegant yet casual, as we are dining on the terrace overlooking the beach at The Ritz Carlton just outside of Palm Beach. Whoo-hoo! Swanky digs, indeed.

Our original premise was to go for high tea, however, since we learned that they only do tea during the summer on Saturdays, we've opted to go earlier and just enjoy some lunch.

The instigator of the outing is one of those friends who always says 'Oh, don't dress up. It's casual...' and then proceeds to show up dressed to the nines, ready for the red carpet and paparazzi, making me feel like an underdressed waif. I've been a victim of her more than once.

But not today. Today, I'm going to find something wonderful to wear; wonderful, given the constraints of my closet, of course. Time to get creative.

How To Spot an Unhappy Woman

This weekend, we went to a beach gathering at the home of some wonderful friends. Every Sunday, like a ritual, their entire family and any number of random friends show up at their house to spend the day at the beach and enjoy a barbecue and some good company. It's a grand time, and we always enjoy ourselves there.

This time, a couple that we've never met before showed up and joined in. There was nothing terribly memorable about him, but the woman caught our attention and became a bit of a "whisper" discussion among many of the women there.

Why? Her appearance spoke volumes to us. She was older, maybe 40, but was desperately trying to hang onto her 20s. She must have had some sort of eating disorder to be that thin, and she'd clearly had a boob job on top of it...so she looked like a stick figure with tits. Her hair was bleached as blonde as blonde can get, and her skin was pale white, like if it ever saw the sun, she'd turn to dust on the spot. We all wondered how much she owed the plastic surgeon at this point.

She sat in the shade with her significant other, didn't come out and mix with the other women, who were clearly behind her in whatever 'race for perfection' she was running, so we didn't have a chance to gauge her personality. But we all came away with the same conclusion: She must be a very unhappy person.

We could have all resented her for the near perfect body....hers was clearly closer to the 'ideal' than ours were. We could have been envious of the generous cleavage and the 'non-hips' she was sporting. Instead, we just felt like she was a walking tragedy and mostly felt sorry for her. She must live her life in agony, so unhappy with herself inside, constantly on the quest for physical perfection, running a losing battle against the clock, and clearly putting a lot of energy into it. We wondered what tragic life experiences had driven her to this.

I'm all for hitting the gym, slathering on the wrinkle cream, coloring the gray, dressing stylishly and someday, maybe an eye tuck or two. But this was just tragic, truly. That woman should be spending her money with a psychiatrist, not a plastic surgeon.

The other day, I heard someone say they'd never seen a skinny woman who was truly happy. There may actually be some truth to that. Certainly, based on this woman, there is. So sad, and so many just like her. Truly sad.

Lobster Tales

Today, I am a lobster.

Saturday, golf by the ocean.

Sunday, beach party.

Monday, bright red everything, seeking heavy doses of aloe, garlic and melted butter. :)

Fortunately, it'll likely turn brown over the next few days, and I'll be on my way to having my summer tan. But really only on the front. The backside of everything still wreaks of winter whiteness. Next time, I'll have to devise a tanning strategy, because this time, I clearly did not employ one.

Amazing

He sang live in Rockefeller Center this morning. Wow. What a voice. I can't wait for the album to be released.

Tis the Season

We're off to the Florida house again later this morning for a couple of weeks. It's that time of year again - hurricane season - and we need to go down and close the house down for the season.

There's not much to it, really. Mostly, we need to bring in the patio furniture from out back and store it in the garage and then make sure anything that's loose is tied down in some way. We don't put up hurricane shutters, as the house has impact glass that should withstand very high winds, should something happen. So it's minimal work, but it needs to be done. Otherwise, we're just tempting Mother Nature by flaunting that patio furniture out there, just waiting for something to happen.

Above is a picture of hurricane Rita which hit the East Texas/LA coast a couple of years ago. You didn't hear much about this one, because at the time, Hurricane Katrina was the media darling, the People's Hurricane, the Perfect Storm, the favorite cause-du-jour, and even though Rita cropped up two weeks later with equal strength and devastation, the cameras were pointed at Katrina victims, so this one pretty much got ignored. Also, the people who got nailed by this one were probably less black and more white, so it didn't make for as good a media story. And since many of them figured out how to recover without waiting for the government to be their daddy, they didn't count. They didn't make good victims, so it was just no fun reporting on them. Darn those independent people who take responsibility for helping themselves.

I'll be back online later today or tomorrow, assuming all goes well with the flight.

Cheers!