October 15, 2014

5th day back in california and I bought a car.

I felt 16 again.  I felt like an adult again.

Freedom, responsibility, relief and independence.  The necessary elements to survive these next few months.  Exact time to be determined.


The next step is residence.  Market prices, convenience, lifestyle, Judy.  These are the factors for the next decision.  My anxiety is killing me.  Make other people happy? Make myself happy?  Restless beast.


Working like a dog. Tis the season!  Push through and enjoy your holidays.  Go go go.


October 9, 2014

Day three of being sick and the only thing I want to do is  stay in bed all day.  Luckily I had committed to coffee with Kristin..   I piled out of bed and quickly threw myself together.


When I’m in Paris it’s always conversations of -  What I am doing here, what visa I have, what visa you have, how much French I don’t know..  the conversations go round and round and then we sit or stand there idly drinking whatever beverage we’ve paid too much for.


He messaged me on whatsapp and asked how my weekend was. Followed with an invitation to coffee that evening.  He used the words “honey” and “really enjoyed my time with you”.


The metro seemed to take forever.. one of those mornings when things are delayed for who knows what.  I arrived  20 mins past the agreed time and a small moment of panic hit me thinking she may have left.


In Paris you are always meeting new people. These friends, their friends, colleagues,  “oh my friend is in Paris you should meet…”.. Pretty soon you have your CV summation ready in a quick 20 word format.


I agreed to meet even though I was sick.  I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see him again.  Sure I had fun.  But .. but.  Things I didn’t and did like.  His candidness. His candidness.  At least he was consistent to the very end.


We both exclaimed air and relief upon seeing each other. We had both been late and she arrived just 5 mins before me.  I ordered a cappuccino and the granola  being as I had hardly been awake for more than an hour at this point.  She was wearing her usual hipster inspired black and even though she exclaimed to have come from the boyfriends place across town , seemed just as put together as when I saw her last night.


I love meeting new people.  I know what when you meet someone you are really just scratching the surface.  I really prefer to have more time with people.  I want to know who they really are.  But other people aren’t really into displaying themselves right away. .. or even later.  Not everyone is a bleeding heart like I am.


Midday I had a thought to cancel.  Why am I seeing this guy before I go?  Do I really want to give him anymore of my time? For what? My hours in Paris are precious and I don’t want to waste them on a sentence that doesn’t contribute to the story. True to Parisian fashion I was 20 mins late.  I saw him near the café.. looking around, looking at his phone..  I was crossing the street and he started walking away.  I thought maybe he was just going to put his helmet on his vespa, but then I realized he was walking AWAY and when I glanced at my phone I realized I was in fact 30 mins late. I burst into a sprint to catch him..


Our coffees arrived in vintage porcelain teacup complete with the saucer.  The floral leaves of the foam promised that the trek had been worth it.  Bare bulbs, vintage furniture and cozy couches. SF/NYC/Paris.  They are all the same after all.  I can find my home wherever I am in the world.


When you are gone so much it is easy for people to forget about you.  They may not want to..  but it just happens. Cv’s are only so interesting, memories made only warm you for so long, every one moves forward. Not always at the same pace.


We sat down. We talked about our separate weekends.  He gave me more of the same sarcasm/insecurity and consternating honesty that makes me as myself  ” why is he saying that”?  I wasn’t looking for affirmation, or French lessons via skype, or even the promise of seeing him again when I return.  He even throws in a “I’ve never been to SF..”.  I smile.  A smile of “sure!, if you like..” follow by a shrug of the shoulders.  Because I’m done having expectations.   I’m almost mystified.  I mean, I enjoyed our conversations, I find him attractive, we have things in common..  but I am not giggly  about him.  In fact, he said.. “ I will not seduce you or romanticize what this is.  I respect you to much to lead you on”.  Who says these things?  But I guess even that bold awkward honesty was in itself charming.  So I sat there longer intrigued by it all.


As we sipped out of our china she smoothed her platinum blond hair and told her story.. the same/ but so different to mine. Religious, married young, divorced and figuring life out as a child thrown into an adult dating world in our late 20’s.  She bought books, I chose experience as my teacher.  I was at peace with my religion. She, at peace with relationships.  We both marveled at the other’s.  I don’t know that we would ever be close friends. (But do we ever really chose those people?)  I know we have shared so much already.  At this point a wink, a pat of the arm and a shared cup of coffee on a gray day in Paris is all that is needed more.


He made a joke.. and then kissed me on the cheek.  It’s easy to do that when your seats are literally side by side.  He smokes through the pack non stop. He makes comments of quitting all the time. For me? Or for himself?  He told his mom he met an American.  He tells me He likes the way I think.  He gets a text message,  It’s from his best friend Victoria whom he is having dinner with that evening. “She’s my best friend “ he says.  Hm.

He asks if I’m going to run while i’m in SF.  I said yes..  he said that’s good, because my hips could use it.


Last days in Paris are always the same.  One part panic, one part stress, one part “just fuck it all”.  I remember all the things I wanted to do/ needed to do/ bummed I didn’t think to do.  I do what I can, see what I can, eat what I can. And try to be present for each one.  What else can you do?



I got a French phone number.  Only took me two years.


October 3, 2014

The vespa throttled down Rue de Passy and the sun was soft and hazy with morning smiles.

My legs were freezing in the morning air.

“I really love your smile”.  It’s not the first time I’ve heard it..   but perhaps it really is a thing.

“You really are a happy person.”

“I’m not always this happy.” was my response “I’m an emotional artist afterall…” I didn’t want to lead him on. – He gave me this look that confirmed he already knew exactly what I meant.


No expectations.

Freedom. The ability to have happiness that isn’t dependent on another person.   This is what I have. “I do”.  Apparently such an American statement.


My morning meeting with my new PR agent here in Paris went well.  I’m intrigued to find out what this new relationship may bring.  You don’t get anything without first trying.


Edits, album designs, plans for the next few weeks. 5 days left here in Paris.  When will I return?  I’m not sure yet.


I try not to be overwhelmed by reality.

September 29, 2014

One week in Paris -

Recovery, sleep and time with my dear Amel. Tea, tears and late night conversations.  Life is complicated and these are the moments that help get us through.

Wednesday I had afternoon tea with Zabrina and her friend Ana. It was lovely, empowering and encouraging.  I am surrounded by strong vivacious woman who are chasing the life they want.  But what is the price we pay for these things?  Za is contained by her commitment to share a life with her man.  She is not bitter, but just acknowledges the restraint and or challenge in how it would slow progress.  What she doesn’t realize is the stability, comfort and assistance that a partner brings.                    The grass is always greener.

We drank tea and discussed pursuing what we want out of life.  Walked in the rain sharing umbrellas to Les Halles and listened to jazz at Sunset Sunrise.

Do memories keep us warm at night?


I’m unsure of how much to ever write about my “love life” – -  I mean..  who really wants to read about that?  It’s like a never ending roller coaster ride.  haha…  not always fun, exhilarating moments and you get off and think ..” I want to do that again!.. but give me a moment, I feel a little sick.”

Am I forcing the issue? Perhaps…


How many “I miss you” do I pass around each day?  Like collectors cards. With my heart strings attached to each one.

Every where I go people are moving forward with their lives.  But I am just here, being me, bouncing between time zones thinking that time bounces with me.

I ask myself what I want -  Paris. Freedom. Life. People. Love.

What is going to take to have these things?

September 21, 2014

et c’est fini pour mon journee a marseille..

et.. c’est grand.

trois soirs du dance et musique…  que es’que la fille demande?  ca va bien.


Jean and France… two great people that were so kind and friendly to me.  It was so fun to be able to participate in their lives and have a view of what it is to live in Marseille.

Jean was my neighbor and we would rendezvous to take the velibs to the parties.  Last night was rooftop rose and watching the sunset.  Then the band began to play and it was……..   amazing.

The night before was another concert at Mucem and seafood, rose/champagne and dancing until 3 am.  You could see all the monuments lit up at night from where we were.

I took a boat to see Les Callanque – breath taking.  I got to “drive the boat” and have a VIP seat in the bridge of the boat….  for whatever reason.  Because I’m a girl traveling alone I suppose.  Just makes me laugh.

I was able to get a little bit of work done, as well as walk about the city a whole bunch and a bit of shopping.


My time in Marseille is complete.  Now it is time for Octoberfest. — off to Germany I go!



September 19, 2014

or serendipity.


“it’s not a date” he said..  ” but if you want to join me and my friends for dancing, they like speaking english..”


That’s all I needed and I was ready and out the door by 10pm.


Apparently Marseille is a dangerous city. I’ve been told this more than a few times. I had that feeling as I walked the 2 miles to the bar where I was meeting the group.  Luckily, I got a ride home at 3 in the morning.

A couple glasses of champagne at Oogie on Cours Julien.  Dj that was playing was supposedly the best in Marseille…  and well he didn’t suck.  After a few hours of dancing there we went to a salsa club where I was shown how well french men can move their hips.  haha…

A great group of sweet people.  More than willing to connect and tell me about the area and share information.  An innocent night for sure.  I felt sixteen again.  My second night in this city and I already have friends..  the kind of people that make me feel like I’ve known them for years.


September 17, 2014

We arrived to Marseille at sunset and our first peek of the city was with purple and orange clouds lighting up the impressive spread of what lay ahead.

The south of france is as charming as it can come.   Even better is that I get to practice my french while here.  I’m in love.

Today Esther and I parted ways for the solo parts of our adventures.  We meet up in Munich in 5 days for the final blowout.  I slept today like I haven’t slept in…. 10 days/3 weeks/ I don’t event know.  Sleep never felt so good.

What does it take to feel at home – a cup of coffee, fresh produce – a few mushrooms, a banana, eggs and some bread.

The last week -

Antibes – Old seaside village, provencal market, drinks on a boat with french boys, a run through the countryside that got me lost and hitching a ride back with a soon to be broken hearted man with beautiful eyes.

Nice/Monaco/Vintimiglia – Spent the night in Nice and took the train Monaco and then meandered to Vintimiglia, italy.. well, because we could.  It was Monday evening and the tiny town was asleep and we wandered around looking for a place that served dinner so we could catch our final train back to Nice for the evening.

I have 4 days here in Marseille. Then Munich, then Paris.



September 14, 2014

“Good morning!  It’s time to go to Paris!”

And in that moment I realized my own words.


I had been so busy with these last few weeks of work I really hadn’t considered the reality of going back again. So soon. And that day was today.




I met someone.  But like all things, it didn’t last.  The vicious cycle of “hating men” or loathing myself seems to never end.  I started off this week with my defenses high and disappointment seeping through my skin.  I cried myself to sleep that night and felt the anger of rejection propel me the next morning.  I kicked myself for letting someone so quickly “in” and chided myself for being so naïve to take people at face value.


Words are so easy.  Action is not.


He said he would be there.  He didn’t show.  He said he would call me.  He didn’t.  no text back.               Madness.


So here is my mourning.  So that I may move on, accept it for what it’s not. Enjoy it for what it was.

A reprieve?  A mixed tape.  An extra skip to my step for a few days.  A smile on my pillow as my eyes fell.  Someone holding my hand and sharing a laugh.  A mirror reflecting heartaches and the understanding of the journey we have both traveled.  A man, and not a boy.  It was peaceful and drama free.  Unplanned and unexpected.   I was wrought with terror the last few days as the realization of what it was starting to be.  I pushed back.  I may have pushed too hard.  But my decisions are mine, and his are his.  I choose to act the way I do. He chooses the same.  And so we are left with the results of our choices.  I of course made too many.  He, not enough?

Life is funny.


That said, I hate dating.


Texts from Frankie the same week prove that I made the right decision.  Not that I ever doubted.  I have my moments where I just want to quit and be swooped.  Isn’t that what Disney always taught us? Prince on a horse looking for his maiden waiting for him to wisk her away.

Not me, I’m not waiting for anything.  I feel I will be a rotting corpse before I see a man on horseback coming to take me home to live happily ever after.  Anyway, I’m doing that for myself, thank you very much.


31 is looking fine.

I’ve become a running fiend and get up at 6am to watch the sunrise as I pound the pavement.


My days are filled with meetings, friend dates, emails I can’t keep up with and projects that never end.  I feel alive, happy and free.  With the exception of overwhelming projects that need wrapped up and moments of rejection and loneliness, I know that these are the days of my life and I relish them.


I am paris bound, then off to the south of france and then to munich and landing in paris again.  This is my last time in Europe for the next 6 months and it seems unbearable to think of.  On that flip side I have to decide what the trajectory of the next 6 months will be.  Will I continue to pursue Paris?  Will I “settle” in a home of my own or go for a simplified gypsy quarter.  No real decision can be made as f right now.  Only time can press these things.


I made plans for a trip to the south west this fall.  A roadtrip I’ve been dreaming of for a year.  I can almost taste it.


I’m considering housing options.  I’m considering car options.  I don’t want any of it.  I want all of it.  Are we ever satiated?  Shit.

I want someone to be my anchor.  I want to be free as a bird.  I crave my independence.  I desire to belong to someone.   –   It makes the day hard to plan.

August 18, 2014

If I had a penny for every time someone told me how amazing my life is or how lucky I was..   well, I could buy another plane ticket.


NYC for the last 5 days.  Traversing and reliving memories.  Creating new ones. As always.  Seeing my people here, cramming it all in.  I’m always feeling guilty that I don’t have enough time for everyone.  Planning leaves little room for spontaneity…  and I do love my freedom.

Amazing thing was – I arrived and slipped in as if I had been here a million times.  Familiar. Easy.  Not overwhelming anymore.  This is what gypsy life looks like.

When I’m here I always feel free, like everything is possible.  I can become what I desire. Anything goes.

Family session in Central Park. Engagement session in Brooklyn.  The jitney to the hamptons and persecco and terriyaki burgers with serene views and bamboo lined property.   This crazy life that people live.  Ways of life for different people.  Their little (or big) worlds that are so different from each other.  We have all chosen our paths.  Most don’t realize that they do.

Where does mine take me?  Where do I want it to take me?  Time to upgrade to the next level.  But I’m missing a few links to make it possible.  Time to dig in and figure things out. I need to sit still, lock myself in and focus.

Montauk to cross another of the list. Horoscopes on the train home.  Gin and tonics and Milk bar with dear frenchies and sleeping in this morning.

31 this week.  30 was amazing.  30 was..   9 countries visited. More love experienced.  Healing and letting go of things that aren’t mine anymore. I feel confident in my skin.  I love my life.




August 17, 2014

The you I’ve always known..

have never known,

used to know,

hope to know.


You..  make my heart hurt.

Lover, friend, foe.

Stranger, no longer strange.