Barcelona 4am

a dark stairway
lost in something beautiful
four flights of cool marble under bare feet
feels sublime, heels in hand
can't see but I feel
giant doors and wood worn like velvet
invisible arias
sun-drenched day, blue water, orange umbrellas
a long walk with a familiar friend
my green dress, lunch on the beach
gelato … more than I could eat
vale vale
work and more work, the stuff that brings me here
too little sleep
a slip
exhaustion and a headache
cured by coffee
balconies and clotheslines and enchanting winding alleys
mom talks through the phone
while I sit listening on a bench
wishing she could see this
the market and grotesque tomatoes from Verona
cobblestones, Gaudi and gothic lanterns
art and longing
Plaza Catalunya, the Metro to Fontana
evening in Gracia
people scattered across many squares
fireworks and devils
cold beer at a table outside
late night of comedy
in Spanish, only catching every eighth word
laughter and connection
a clocktower
Catalonia and dictators
there are many ways to do something right
so do it your way
chance and Paul Auster
our crisis
you really should send that letter
smokey bar and the old cigarette machine
beer in plastic cups at closing time
then out to the streets for a late-night stroll
her tribe
taxi back to Barrio Gotica
steadying the beer still in my hand
phone in the other
as I leave a voicemail
for someone not there
great cathedral and black sky
others walking home
peace, quiet, fresh air
it's morning
I'm blanc
anything is possible

Self-Discovery: Does Anyone Really Have 40 Days to Sacrifice for It?

About three and a half years ago, I came across this book called "40 Days and 40 Nights" while perusing my local Borders in New York City (um, I was not in the self-help section, it was on the "featured books of the month" table).

It was the weekend and I was delusional (as weekends sometimes make me) thinking that perhaps I might do something meaningful and personally fulfilling on my own time (ha. ha ha. ha ha ha...ha). Anyway, I was really excited because, well just look at the cover -- it was going to change my life and send me down the path of totally awesome self-discovery, somewhere I previously never had any interest in going. But there I was, feeling a sudden sense of urgency to find out who this person is that I call me...bring it on!

So I brought the book home and quickly forgot about it. I mean, get a life already, I have other things to do.

A couple months later, while vacuuming my apartment, I found the book wedged between my stereo stand and the wall, covered in dust. So I opened it (because I'll do anything to get out of cleaning), read the intro, but really didn't have time for the first assignment of listing my goals and dreams and fears and obstacles. So I let it wait awhile longer until I had the proper time necessary to make it thoughtful and quality.

Then, one night (ok, after a few drinks), I finally filled out that first section. It was definitely thoughtful and my list of goals, dreams and fears was loooong.

It's a 40-day program where you have to write and do a different exercise every day. And you can't skip a day or else the "40 day" part wont be true and you will fail, so I stalled getting started out of fear it wasnt the right time. I wanted to feel really clear headed and READY to make those 40 days and nights count so that I could commit and WIN!

But every night, I'd open the book, pick up my pen, realize I was too tired and uninspired, and toss the book aside once again in favor of something more appealing for the moment...like People magazine.

When I was packing up my apartment to move to London, I found the book in the cabinet of my nightstand. And I thought to myself, "Self, there is no greater time to begin down the 40-day path to discovering your true self than when moving to a new country."

But I didn't want to find myself until I got to London --because I might ultimately find the wrong person if I started it in New York -- so I decided to begin once I arrived on the other side of the Atlantic.

Since arriving in England a year and a half ago, I have looked at this book almost every day on my bookshelf while watching TV and discovering someone else's true self (like Robbie Williams or that other guy from "Take That"). But I'm careful to hide it under my bed when people come over so that they don't think I read self-help books.

I tried to start the book again last week, but got thrown off base after reading those hopes, dreams, fears and obstacles I had written down 3 years ago, because none of them really apply anymore. And sweet Jesus, I must have had a ton to drink before I filled that sucker out, because I can't even read my own handwriting! And to make matters worse, I wrote it all in pen so if I want to start it again, I'll need to re-write it all (reflecting my current self) on a new, clean sheet of paper and stuff it back in the book, and I really hate the thought of doing that (hmm, facing my perfectionist OCD may be one of those goals).

So lately, I open the book, only to look at the first exercise and close it again thinking ... "tomorrow."

I have calculated that over the past 3.5 years, I could have discovered my true self about 30 times had I started and completed this freakin' book. I can't even imagine all the sides of myself that I have missed out on and will never know -- a tragic fact, but I try not to dwell on it.

Because every night, just seeing the book on my nightstand brings new hope -- the hope that self-discovery is always and only just 40 days away. And somehow, that seems much nicer than starting down the path, only to know that in 40 days or less it will come to an end.

Domenique's Stuffed Tomatoes Mixed with a Little Magic (another Paris adventure)

I spent this past weekend in Paris following a meeting on Friday. After work, I checked into my hotel - the Hotel Luxembourg, across from the Senat and Luxembourg Gardens (the same place Lauren and I stayed during her visit last summer). Around 8pm, I went out and met my friend Rosanne, her friend Jan, and a few others for dinner at a cosy place called Baci in le Marais. (Recap: Rosanne is my good friend from NYC. She has a children’s clothing boutique in Paris that she runs with her sister, Julie, who lives in Paris with her family. Ro lives in NY, but spends lots and lots of time in Paris so we get to see each other a good deal…she has the little doggie Totoro who I took care of last time I was in NY staying at her apartment). I had some red wine, chicken and vegetables, and we called it a night around midnight. I was tired. I walked all the way back to the hotel, which took about a half hour. Though it was cold and damp outside, it was nice to be out walking in the dark chilled air with the whole weekend ahead of me (God I love Friday night, regardless of where I am!). When I passed over the Ile de Cite, in front of Notre Dame, it was shrouded in a quiet darkness and I looked around to find that I was the only person in the square…I had the place all to myself. It was one of those enchanted moments when I had to stop and consider how lucky I am to have this life. I love walking in Paris at night -- the lights along the Seine are always magical. Moments like that simply make me grateful, even if I do get a little tired and lonely sometimes.

When I got back to my room, I shut off the alarm on my blackberry (which had been set to 4-5am the three days before) and barely remember falling into bed. I didn’t open my eyes until 1pm the next afternoon (oops). That was nice. It was a miserable rainy day (of course), so I started off easy at a brasserie by Odeon where I had a double espresso and a ham and cheese omelette that was positively drowning in butter (with a salad and fresh baguette on the side). It was delicious. I then made my way to the Metro where I went to Montmartre to wander around. I went up to the Sacre Coeur (the big cathedral that overlooks Paris) and took in the view. But it was ridiculously drizzly, cold and flooded with tourists, so I didn’t spend too long in the madness. I ducked into a few little shops, one from which I purchased a lovely little necklace. On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at the incredible Gerard Mulot patisserie in Saint Germain where I picked up a to-die-for dessert for the evening’s dinner party. I don’t know what it was called, but it was a rich, fluffy vanilla custard mixture dotted with fresh, plump raspberries and sandwiched between two layers of crisp, crumbly cake (or was it a meringue?) sprinkled with pistachio slivers and wrapped up in a bow -- perfect bliss in a big pink box!

Saturday evening, Rosanne graciously invited me to her sister (Julie) and brother-in-law’s (Domenique) home in the city’s 11th arrondissement. I stepped through the huge wooden burgundy doors, passed through the inner courtyard, and climbed a flight of black steel stairs up to their flat. Rosanne opened the door and I found myself in a warm, open, lofty space lined with bookcases that I can only describe as if I had stepped into an issue of Dwell magazine -- totally fab.

After graduating from Parsons School of Design in NYC 17 years (ish) ago, Julie moved to Paris. She now owns a super-hip children’s clothing boutique in Saint Germain called “Milk on the Rocks” for which she and Rosanne design their own clothes (www.milkontherocks.net). She has been married to Domenique for 7 years and they have two adorable children: Antoine (5) and Jade (3). Jade greeted me in a sparkly purple Princess Jasmin dress (from Disney’s Aladdin), fashionably layered over a yellow Belle (from Beauty and the Beast) nightgown…she was all smiles and ready to party. Antoine, on the other hand, was very tired and not at all in the mood to entertain…he called it a night around 9:30. They also have three huge, gorgeous kitty cats. Rosanne’s doggie Totoro was there as well, so it was a full house of kids, animals, big people and great food…a perfect evening, really!

While we were busy gabbing and enjoying wine and pate (Ro’s friend Jan was there as well), Domenique was intently focused on making dinner, which I understand is a family recipe. Big, red tomatoes stuffed with a combination of ground beef, mushrooms, onions, tomato, sugar (which off-sets the savory nicely) and some other stuff. After the tomatoes are hollowed out and stuffed with the mixture, the tops are placed back on, a pat of butter is perched on top of each, and they are sent into the oven to bake (see pictures). They come out many minutes later shriveled, warm, ooozy juicy, and perfectly delicious. Domenique plated them like a pro in huddles of three per plate. YUM!

After dinner, we tucked into the dessert I brought from Gerard Mulot. Had it with a side of ice cream (because, um, the pastry alone wasn’t decadent enough). Then (as if we hadn’t already indulged sufficiently), Domenique brought out some little muffins he has been baking and selling to local shops. He makes them in several varieties: lemon, hazelnut, chocolate chip, and a couple others. We sampled, of course.

After dinner, Domenique entertained us with some magic tricks -- he’s really good! He baffled us with tricks using cards, those little spongie balls, and a trick using Jan’s cigarette lighter. Good times. Now, if only he could have made all the calories I consumed that night disappear! Meanwhile, Jade impressed us with her skills blowing out all the candles….I guess that was pretty magical to her and she was not going to be outdone.

I got a taxi home close to midnight. Jade was still up watching movies and smiling when we left – talk about a 3 year old that can totally party!

This morning (Sunday) I woke up around 10:30, checked out, and then went to Café Flore (used to be a massive hangout for the literary greats) on Saint German for a breakfast of broiled eggs with salmon, salad and lots of coffee. Then I went to Le Bon Marche department store where I managed to escape without buying anything. Around 2:30, I met Rosanne in le Marais and we went on a very fast 2-hour shopping tear where I managed to do a little damage in the form of a dress, belt and some bath products. We stopped into a little smoky bar we like called Le Perle, where we had a fast glass of red wine. Then, I took off to get a taxi to the airport, after a mad run through a chocolate shop by Place de Vogues where I snagged a chocolate bar for myself, and an assortment of truffles for a work colleague. The flight home was easy and uneventful. I sat next to a very handsome French man who I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to, even though I really, really wanted to.

Oh, and speaking of French, mine still sucks. Oh well…third class is tomorrow, so onwards and upwards!

Hamburg, Dove, and Helene Schjerfbeck (I can't pronounce it either)

I spent a couple days in Hamburg, Germany this week for work -- getting immersed into the workings of my newest client, Dove (as in the stellar "Campaign for Real Beauty"). Edelman has a great office there and the team I’ll be working with is an awesome group of gals (Heidi, Jessica, Anna and Pia). Tuesday evening Jessica had us over to her home for a totally fabulous old-school American/Mexican dinner. We’re talking tortillas, guacamole, black olives from the can, grated cheese, sour cream, salsa, ground beef, refried beans, rice…and beer, of course. It was serious good times and so yummy. She had to go out of her way to find all those ingredients in Germany, but go figure, there is a Wal Mart nearby which provided most of the goods. From what I understand, the Germans are not big fans of the American mega chain, but we sure were after dinner…ole!

The weather was pretty cold, dreary and rainy, but we got lots accomplished Tuesday and Wednesday. It’s a nice office to work in…it has lots of windows and sits alongside a small canal, which I’m sure is charming in the summer when you can sit out on the terrace by the canal and enjoy your lunch.

Wednesday evening after work, Pia and I went to the Hamburger Kunsthalle – the main art gallery in Hamburg – to see the Helene Schjerfbeck exhibition. She was a very well known Scandinavian artist (1862-1946) known for her portraits, landscapes and still lifes. I saw a brochure for the exhibition at my hotel and was captivated by some of the pictures of her paintings, which put me in mind of Modigliani (one of my very favourites). And I wasn’t disappointed…there were about 120 wonderfully-curated paintings. It was a great exhibition with some very touching pieces….my favorites being “Dancing Girls” (a really tiny one), “Madchen von dem Bildteppich” (that’s the portrait at the beginning of this post), and “Maria.” After the exhibition, Pia drove me back to my hotel. I went next door to an Italian restaurant for dinner, where I also finished my book “The Memory Keepers Daughter” (by Kim Edwards), which was really excellent. I managed to get a few hours sleep before leaving at 5am the next morning to head to Paris for another meeting….

A Night With the History Boys

My friend Olly and I saw the play “History Boys” (which was recently made into a movie). After debuting a massive stage success, it recently moved from the National Theatre to the West End -- although that was news to Olly, who mistakenly went to the National first, arriving at the correct theatre just minutes before curtain.

Our seats were crap (my fault), but it was a good play, although it tried a bit too hard at times…most notably in the first act when the boys enact an unnecessarily long scene in French, which I found to be a bit gratuitous and pretentious…I suppose if you don’t understand French, Alan Bennett does not deem you intellectual enough to enjoy his play. The idea of the scene was very funny, it just droned on too long.

My criticism overall is that it reeked a bit “Dead Poets Society” wanna-be (I think I just dated myself to all the high-schoolers that were in the audience….”Dead Poet who??”). But for all you TRUE GenXrs out there, let’s face it, nothing can really match that. BUT, in it’s favour, I will say that the acting/casting is really brilliant, there are many funny moments, and the scene changes are filled with a series of punchy black and white film sequences set to catchy music showing the boys going about their days and bringing bits of the storyline to life…that was a nice touch.

While I was not left pondering it (ok, ok, I am a theatre snob, I know), it was an evening well spent and certainly one of the better plays I have seen lately…it’s modern take on the competitive education environment in England was timely and topical, though it probably would have been more compelling to me if it were a system I knew anything about. I mean, the fact that “public” school is a more elite level of education here in the U.K. is still a regular point of confusion for me given that in the U.S. it means everyman education for the masses (I am a proud public school girl).

After the show, Ollie and I had a lovely dinner at Palais du Jardin near the theatre. Very good…my favourite part being the exceptional crème brulee that capped off the night. Oh, and Olly’s consistently captivating conversation, of course (he reads this blog). ☺

I Speaka French!

Ok, well, not exactly yet, but tonight was my first class of a 20-week beginners French course. I figure since I go to Paris just about every month these days, I should learn to say something in the language. Someone once told me (actually, several people have told me) that because I know some Spanish, French will be a zip. But guess what -- that is complete crap. French is totally hard. And despite my weak attempts to learn some vocabulary and verb conjugations before visits, whenever I try to put it to use in France I am stared down coldly for several uncomfortable minutes before the highly annoyed and insulted French person I am speaking to begins shouting English back at me until I slink away. But not for long!

So, my company has graciously brought in an instructor from the Institut Francais here in London to teach us the basics at a pleasantly discounted rate. There are 8 of us in the class, which will meet every Monday here at the office. Our instructor's name is Alexi. He is a very nice and patient man with gray hair. Oh, and we have workbooks...I love workbooks.

About 5 minutes into the class, after being spoken to (in French) and having not understood one single thing, I was signalled out as the first person to speak (in French). I had to say "My name is Catherine." When I tried to repeat after Mr. Alexi and say it, everyone laughed at me. It's really funny how I think I'm really cool, but after a small incident like this, I want to cry, kick the teacher and run away and hide (like I did in tap class once when I was 6). Very humbling these language classes.

So, an hour and a half later, I can now sort of tell someone what my name is and say "hello" and some other basic greetings. I can't spell, write or read any of it, but I can sort of say it. I also learned the verb "to be" (Être) and am now familiar with the alphabet, although I cannot pronounce my Es and Us properly ("oooh" and "eeew," or something like that). But I have a whole week to practice and perfect before advancing to the next level.

I figure it's probably another 2-3 weeks before I'm dreaming in French and forgetting my English. I will conquer this language -- with an espresso in one hand and a pain au chocolat in the other! And then, the French people will love and adore me. France will make me their goodwill ambassador. I'll arrive at the Gar du Nord to cheering crowds. I will make the poets cry with my perfect accent. The Musee D'Orsay will give me a Renoir as a gesture of gratitude for learning to speak their language so well. They'll name a street after me in Saint Germain des Pres...my efforts will not be in vain!

Au revoir.

A Week in the Life of British Telly

I’m too lazy to make the effort to get satellite TV, so I’m at the mercy of the five basic “terrestrial” channels here in the U.K. (though I do abide by the law and pay the 100+GBP/year TV License fee that I still don’t totally understand the purpose of). That gets me BBC1, BBC2, ITV1, Channel 4 and Five….five glorious channels of complete and utter crap.

British TV is mostly composed of a slew of property-buying shows in the morning and daytime (seems the only way for the middle class to make any real money here or feel they have investments is through real estate or selling the contents of their attics…getting on the “property ladder” as they call it is everything), a few really trashy daytime talk shows (think Jerry Springer back in the 80s but not as entertaining, just depressing), the soaps (East Enders, Coronation Street, Hollyoaks and Emmerdale), a smattering of cooking shows (I do love that Gordon Ramsay, he’s cool), and of course, many fine American exports, including “Everyone Loves Raymond,” “Friends,” “Prison Break,” “ER,” “The Sopranos,” and “Grey’s Anatomy.” Oh, there’s the news too – although I have to say unless it’s international, the domestic stuff bores me to sleep. Late night talk shows include Jonathan Ross and Graham Norton – both of which are pretty good. And then there is the Charlotte Church Show – perhaps the most annoying show and person on the planet. In terms of morning shows, there is BBC Breakfast (puts me right back to sleep after waking up) and GMTV (Good Morning TV), which is my preferred choice -- I like Lorraine Kelly’s lifestyle segment at the very end, which, if I’m watching it, means I’m totally late for work. Oh, and how can I forget “Big Brother” – it’s a national treasure.

But then there’s the handful of oddities and one-offs that really give me a giggle. Following is a sampling of my favourite titles from just the past week. I am NOT making these up:

• Help! My Dog’s as Fat as Me
If you can’t get enough TV about obese people, you can upgrade to obese pets.

• Why is There so Much Rubbish on Telly?
I think the show further supports the premise…vicious circle.

• WAGs Boutique
WAGs are “wives and girlfriends” of football stars (and in many cases, the role models to young British girls everywhere). In this show, two teams of WAGs run boutiques and compete to see which is the most successful. Think “The Apprentice,” but starring bimbos with no brains. Time Out London describes the show in its TV listings as “The bitchy nonsense continues.”

• The Madness of Modern Families
At least this show can never run out of content.

• What’s Under Your House? Checking Foundations
Um…I’d seriously rather chew broken glass than watch this. Tedious gets taken to a whole new level here…

• Loose Women
I don’t need to watch this on TV. I live on Maiden Lane in Covent Garden - I can just sit on my doorstep, open a bottle of wine and watch the real thing.

• Gay to Z
In case you’re looking for an instructional…

• Arrange Me a Marriage
Hmmm…perhaps I should be watching this one.

• How to Dump Your Mates
I like this one. It shows you how to divorce your friends. Uses real people/scenarios too and catches the whole ordeal on camera. I needed this my first year of college.

• My Big Gay Prom
For all those poor people who had to take members of the opposite sex to the prom and are still suffering post-traumatic syndrome from it. Ah, thank heavens for a second chance to make it all right.

• The Conman with 14 Wives
This is the stuff that makes up for not getting “Lifetime for Women” here.

• Bodyshock: Born with Two Heads
And this makes up for not getting “Ripley’s Believe it or Not.”

• What? When? Where? Why?
I think that pretty much says it all….

With all that said, I actually don’t miss American TV that much, except Conan O’Brien (the love of my life), David Letterman, Meet the Press, Good Morning America, Saturday Night Live, and a few Food Network shows. Really, the rest is just background noise when I’m doing laundry -- real life is so much more interesting…

Party at Cat's

Here are some pictures from my party last weekend...thanks to my friend Olly for taking them!

Tom

Olly and Me

Sandra and Amanda

Nana


















Mike and Sybil














Cheryl and Rory

Nicki and Hannah

Life Goes On...

That’s a picture of me in Paris back in February at the Orangerie enjoying the 360 degree Monet canvases…absolutely gorgeous and enlightening (the Orangerie also boasts a dazzling selection of Renoirs that were pure delight on that cold Sunday afternoon). I was in Paris for work, then spent the weekend. I also visited Napolean's Tomb and the Catacombs -- an underground labyrinth of buried bones and skulls from Paris cemeteries, put there around 1810 during the plague....ghoulish!

So much for my vow to keep up with the blog….it’s been a crazy past few months. Let’s see…what to say, what to say...well, I had a boyfriend for about 5 months, but he broke up with me. Hmmm, wonder if there is a connection between boyfriends and not blogging. Or, me having boyfriends and them breaking up with me….but I’ll save that discussion for later.

Anyway, I think I’m ok and am on the path to emotional recovery with, what else: more travel plans! My friends Kate, Alyson and I have plans to spend Easter in Marrakech (Morocco), a place I’ve always wanted to go. Then, I have (another) weekend planned in Barcelona for my friend Stefanie’s “not a bachelorette party” weekend. I’ll probably be back in NYC for a few days again in April for work, and there is also talk of work trips to Copenhagen and Hamburg in April as well, so it looks like I may not be unpacking my suitcase for a full month. Which is ok by me.

I was back in NYC for two weeks last month for work in what was the coldest two weeks in NYC that I can remember. I stayed at my friend Rosanne’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen (she was in Paris while I was there). In exchange for my room and board, I took care of her little doggie Totoro. We got on quite well. But I must say, doggies are a lot of work and responsibility!

After freezing my butt off in New York, I went to sunny Orlando, FL for a couple days for a workshop I was leading for my client GE Money. It was kind of fun being there (everything in Orlando is so fake and fantasy, I love it). We stayed at the Royal Pacific Resort at Universal Studios, which feels like Hawaii….it was sweet. I had a day free to myself before I left, which was spent at the Mandara Spa at the Portofino Bay Resort where I got an amazing massage which put me in good form before the plane ride back to the U.K. It was a crazy busy two weeks away, I was glad to get back.

It just so happened that the day my boyfriend broke up with me, my friend Kate was in town from Amsterdam and staying the weekend, and I had a party planned at my flat for Saturday. So that was a good built-in cheer up! The party Saturday was rockin’ – my best one yet. About 30 people were jammed into my little flat, the music was pumping, lots of food and wine and a great cross-section of interesting people from all over…it was really quite fun. Kate and I also partook in some retail therapy at Topshop on Saturday (I seriously need to lay off the shopping) and had a nice breakfast at Paul on Sunday, the French bakery around the corner from my flat in Covent Garden. They have the BEST eggs.

Things on the work front remain good. Last month, my team in New York launched “The Celebrity Pasta Lovers’ Cookbook” for my client Barilla. Ten A-list celebrities offered up their favorite pasta recipes, and star chefs Mario Batali and Giada De Laurentiis made them over for the online cookbook. Then, for the month of February, for every person who downloaded the cookbook, Barilla donated $1 to (my favorite charity) America’s Second Harvest – the Nation’s Food Bank Network -- up to $100,000. We made our 100,000 download goal at the beginning of the month and the cookbook went over very well with tons of excellent media coverage on TV, in print media, and online. Barilla is such an excellent company and it was so fulfilling to be involved with the project.

In addition to Barilla, I have been working with GE Money on a global project, and just worked a couple days with Chemistry.com – an online dating service owned by Match.com. There are more exciting things in the works, which I will report on later, but it looks like I will once again be extending my stay here in the U.K., at least until the end of the year. It really has been an adventure so far and I am still very happy and fulfilled here, despite any recent romantic misgivings. ;)

Oh, and the friends keep pouring in from America (it’s an invasion of sorts). My friend Lindsay recently moved here from NYC (we used to work together) to join her boyfriend Mike. And my friend Alyson (also from NY) is here on a 6-month work assignment with Morgan Stanley. I have another friend moving here this summer. So really, I don’t see the point in leaving England when all the people I know are moving here….. ☺

My friend Kim recently moved back to NY from London though, so that was a bit sad…but I think she is adapting back to life in Gotham pretty well.

I think that’s all for now. I have discovered a new outpost from which to work – a Starbucks I just uncovered on St. Martin’s Lane. It’s totally comfy. It doesn’t get much better than blogging from a chic venue in London on a purple cushy couch while indulging in a Cinnamon Dulce Latte. Totally yum.

The Last Three Months: Switzerland, Paris, Venice, and New York (three times)

I was surprised when a few people emailed me with similar notes like:

“Um, ok, so….why in the hell haven’t you written anything in the past three months??”

or

“Are you dead?”

Um, ok, so…not dead (thank goodness) and am catching up now. It has been awhile. Things have been a little hectic to say the least. Since September, I took a week holiday in Switzerland with my Grams (and entertained her in London); spent a weekend in Paris with my friend Rosanne; spent another weekend in Venice with my friends Kim and Kate (and two of Kate’s friends from Amsterdam); and have been to New York three times for work. As a matter of fact, I am sitting in JFK as we speak waiting to fly back after a small circle of flight cancellation hell that over the past 24 hours has left me sitting on a grounded plane for six hours (only to be sent to a scary hotel in Queens to stay the night when the flight was cancelled at 2am), and has me waiting at the airport today for 8 hours until I can catch a British Air flight out (I hope). Good times. Although I did allow myself to eat McDonalds in the food court to make me feel better (? I think) and boy are those McFlurrys good! I like the M&M kind because the colors from the candy runs and swirls into the vanilla ice cream. It’s pretty -- looks like tie-dye.

With all my free time here at JFK airport in lovely Queens, NY, I’ve been working and reading. Read an interesting article in New York Magazine on “burnout” and think I may have just self-diagnosed. Not that I expect anyone to feel sorry for me, it’s not a terrible life…I enjoy 90% of it. But right now a weekend on the couch watching “X Factor” in a semi-comatose state eating Ben & Jerry’s sounds damn appealing. Being here in the JFK food court for another 8 hours does not.

I’m also on drugs. I’ve been sick for the past month with an insane cough that started in smoky Paris, and later caused me to tear some cartilage in my ribcage….it hurts to move and breathe and laugh. So I went to my old doctor in NYC who gave me some codine for the cough, nasal spray for whatever I have, and serious pain killers for the rib since there’s nothing they can do for that besides give you drugs for the pain while you wait for it to heal. So I’ve tried to balance the last week and a half of work in NYC while on the meds without getting too loopy….that meant no cocktails.

Ok, I’m an optimist though, so enough griping, there’s good stuff too! Here is the 10-minute recap of what you’ve missed:

Gram’s Visit & Switzerland (October)

Like I said, my 85 year old Grams came to see me which was really fun – she is such a trouper and in amazing shape! We spent a couple days in London where I took her up in the London Eye and walked her all over the city. We ate at “The Rules,” London’s oldest restaurant, which also happens to be downstairs from my flat. We spent another whole day touring Hampton Court Palace which we both LOVED – gorgeous palace and gardens….honestly, I can’t get enough of that stuff. We also did the garden maze there – it is the largest in the world! They say it takes an average of 20 minutes for most people to find the center, but we found it in about 15, so I think that means we are above-average smart.

In Switzerland, we landed in Zurich, then took a train to Lucerne where we spent a few days. Went to the top of Mt. Pilatus which was very fun and pretty. We did a lot of walking and browsing, and stayed at the great Hotel Montana overlooking Lake Lucerne. We had a balcony off our room where we enjoyed local cheese and wine each night. The view of the mountains around the lake was stunning. We also visited the nearby town of Hergiswil where we toured a glass factory. After the (very well done) tour, we shopped and I blew a glass bauble of my very own which is now hanging in my flat.

After Lucerne, we took the train to Interlaken in the Jungfrau region where we did a day’s excursion to the top of Mt. Schilthorn….which is best known for the James Bond Movie “Her Royal Majesty’s Secret Service” which filmed some scenes there. We also ate at the revolving restaurant at the top where I had the “spicy James Bond spaghetti.” I must say travelling with your Grams gives you good reason to do all that fun kitschy tourist stuff you’d be too embarrassed to admit you did otherwise.

On the way down from Schilthorn (you go up and down completely by cable cars), we stopped in the mountain town on Murren, which may have been my favorite place and somewhere I definitely want to return. It was mesmerizing and gorgeous.

After Interlaken, we went to Montreaux, on the shore of Lake Geneva. Very foggy while there, so we couldn’t see much of the mountains around the lake, but we did tour the Chateau Chillon (castle) which I loved, loved, loved; toured the old town up on the hill; and ate at a yummy French Brasserie -- the best food we had on the whole trip. One thing I must say is that Swiss food is not very good or diverse….ick. But they do serve everything piping hot, which really impressed Grams. Oh well, with stunning scenery everywhere we went, I guess it can’t all be perfect.

After Montreaux, we took the train to leave out of Geneva….we went around the shore of the Lake which boasted quite a few vineyards, layered and tiered on the hillsides. That was rather pretty.

I would love to go back to Switzerland (the Interlaken region in particular) to do some hiking. It is a very beautiful and perfectly clean country – rather hard to believe it’s real….very Disney-esque. Crystal blue lakes, green hillsides, snowy peaks, adorable brown cows and the sound of cow bells everywhere….it was magical.

Mostly, having that time with Grams was priceless, it was hard to say goodbye. Although I don’t think I’d be a good candidate for elder care – I dragged her on long walks up hillsides, around bustling cities, and through a rickety medieval castle that I could barely navigate. I kept thinking that if my mother saw what we were doing, I might have had my “responsible granddaughter” license revoked. But Grams loved it – she is such an adventurous soul. It’s something neither one of us will ever forget.

Paris (November)

My friend Rosanne, from New York, goes to Paris a few times a year to stay, work (she is a graphic designer and has a kid’s clothing boutique in Paris with her sis), and visit her sister and her family who live there. She usually stays about a month and rents an apartment. This time, I came to play with her for a weekend.

We mostly shopped. Rosanne is the best and worst kind of friend to shop with because, like me, she enthusiastically encourages purchases. We did some good damage…I especially cleaned up at Le Bon Marche (fancy French department store) and Sandro, my favourite boutique there. Got a cute coat, a fun black party dress and a sweater dress, two chemises, and a few bracelets. I also bought some kids clothes for my nieces at Rosanne’s store in Paris, “Milk on the Rocks” (www.milkontherocks.net) – TOTALLY cute urban kids’ wear.

Oh, and Ro has an adorable little dog named Totoro who came out shopping with us for the day, she is the cutest little thing ever! She travels to and from Paris with Rosanne, a jet-set pup!

We also ate a bit (of course) – Saturday night we went to Terrance Conran’s restaurant Alcazar.

Rosanne’s friend Stefan (also from NY) was also staying in Paris with her, so we had a couple fun evenings out with him. I wrongly assumed he was gay at the start, but he still managed to like me after nonetheless. I think. (He’s probably still damning me to his friends as we speak.)

“So, you just had a break up, sorry to hear that. How long were you with him?”

“Him? Cat, I’m not gay…..”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Friday we went to a club that we were WAY too old for (didn’t stay long), and Saturday we went to another club Paris Paris which was a bit older, but just not our scene…regardless, it gave us some fun material to rant about after. We stayed out all night both nights and slept most of the morning, then went shopping in the afternoon -- not a bad life!
Rosanne made us an amazing preventative hangover meal around 5-6am Saturday morning after returning from a club. It was this amazing pasta dish (using Barilla, of course), that she concocted from the remnants in her fridge….food from the gods. I need to get her to write that one down for me if she can remember it. She should actually compile a cookbook of improvised hangover recipes from what’s in the fridge…I think that would be a big seller. But then again, I guess putting improvised recipes into a cookbook kinda defeats the art of it.

On Sunday, we went and got massages at some Indian spa, which was funny, because we had them in the same room. A bit of a “couples” massage as we jokingly called it. After the R&R, we had lunch at a cute little brasserie. Then we shopped….until I had to run and catch my 7:30pm train. It was a nice day -- one of those days in Paris with the pretty early-winter light.

I also lost my voice – I started to feel it go in a super-smoky brasserie on Saturday, and it was all down-hill from there….by the time I got home to London on Sunday, I was completely unable to emit sound, and that lasted for three days. Me, silent, is very hard, as I have one of the biggest mouths in the history of the world. After about a week it all came back, even though the last four days I sounded like a pre-pubescent boy. But who cares, it was worth it, Paris is fun.

Venice (November)

My friend Kim and I both said we would wait to visit Venice when we had boyfriends, but then decided that was pretty stupid given our track records of late, so we said “screw it” and planned a girls weekend instead. My friend Kate, who lives in Amsterdam, met us there, along with two friends of hers.

Venice is great -- really cool and pretty. And completely and utterly overrun with tourists. I call it the “toy city” -- it doesn’t seem real.

We did our share of aimlessly walking the canal-lined streets and taking in the many piazzas that can be found all over Venice. We stopped in to tour St. Mark’s Basilica and wandered across the famous Rialto Bridge. We didn’t make enough time to tour the Doges Palace or take a gondola ride, so those will have to wait for the next visit.

We shopped (I bought a sweet little black dress at Giorgio Armani), ate (at a couple good but nondescript restaurants), spent a day on the island of Murano where we went in and out of all the cool glass shops and galleries (we bought trinkets) and had drinks at Cipriani’s. But I did not have the heralded Bellini, as everyone was drinking them and that would have been way too cliché….I had a Vodka Collins instead and Kim had a prosecco. We also bought blocks of nougat (I got pistachio) which took only about two days to polish off. And I didn’t even think I liked nougat.

We also went to see the Peggy Guggenheim collection, which is a pretty nice collection of modern art in her old canal-front home. We arrived 30 minutes before they closed, so it was an expedited tour. But that was really about all we needed anyway to see everything.

We stayed at a really cute hotel on a canal (which says nothing since everything is on a canal there) with a big chandelier in the centre of the ceiling, two floor-to-ceiling windows, and a cushy sofa. But our room had the smallest beds I’ve ever seen….I’m talking Goldilocks/Three Bears small. I felt like I was in my niece’s toddler bed.

As much of a pretty novelty as Venice is, the highlight I think, for both Kim and I, was the water taxi ride from our hotel to the airport. We met the long, white speedboat about a block from our hotel where the very cute blonde driver loaded in our bags. We were the only two passengers in the boat. It was night time and dark outside, and we started off slowly, peeling through the canals. We popped our heads out through the sunroof of the boat and stood the entire time as we said goodbye to the city from the water. It was only about five minutes in all, but it was kind of magical. We felt like characters in “The Italian Job.” Once we got out on the open water, we really took off at top speed and were at the dock at the airport in about 10 minutes. We jumped off the speedboat and jogged into the terminal. That was a moment in time where I realised once again how totally great life is right now. The boatride was 90 euro, but worth every cent.

New York (September, October and November)

It’s hard to miss NYC when I keep returning every month. Not that I’m complaining in the least, it’s ideal to have a business (i.e. paid-for) reason to return State-side and a great excuse to see my friends and stay in touch with the latest and greatest in Manhattan.

I went in October for 5 days for a new business pitch (which we won, yay!) and returned again in November for a almost two weeks for two different client meetings. Both visits were a little stressful and involved late nights (revisionist history – I love how I make it sound so light now post-nervous meltdown…), but there was some fun mixed in with friends. On the most recent visit, I finally got to eat at Mario Batali’s restaurant Babbo (very yum) with my friend Molly, as well as Japanese Star Chef Morimoto’s restaurant called “Morimoto” (with my friend Adeena). I forewent booking a hotel and split my time instead between Molly, Adeena and Rosanne’s apartments. That was really fun and a good excuse to catch up with them. I love them. Molly and I also went to the “Tenacious D” concert at Madison Square Garden….that was pretty good for a laugh, even though we all left with contact highs from the secondary pot we inhaled from all around us.

I still love Manhattan but am not anxious to run back for good. Short visits are nice to see the people I like and get a fix for all things great about the city (and there are still plenty of those), but London has become remarkably “home” to me and comfortable. The life there just seems so…normal…compared to NYC. The pace is more reasonable, it’s not as fast, and you don’t have to be a size 0 supermodel to get a date. Very liveable.

Ok, I think this is a good place to stop with the recap. I can now go back to “real time” blogging -- hopefully. Sorry again for the wait, I’m baaaaaaaaaaack!