lizgeorjon

View from the unexpected Four Seasons SF stay

I did it! Three continents and five countries… all in one direction. After a bit of a reality check on my focusing efforts and timing expectations for the new Manhattan ‘dream’ apartment, I was meant to complete the last leg of my spin around the globe two days ago. 🌎

As luck would have it, not that I necessarily believe in luck, the weather on the east coast was torrential. My flight canceled and given the karmic theme that waifdom phase II inherently assimilated, I chose to make lemonade out of lemons! Just wish I’d saved a couple for my grey goose. 😉 But then again, who am I kidding… I can drink that shit straight. So long as I’ve got plenty of rocks! Which were far easier to come by at the Four Seasons San Francisco than Six Senses in Oman.😆 I was a bit proud of myself though, as I stood with the Pilot Captain and flight attendant, that I’d been notified of our flight cancelation before they even were! Damn… I am good at my job.

With my renewed faith in United Airlines, I rang the 1K desk to rebook myself, and chose to leave my luggage in their hands for the night. The beauty of my travel experiences and of course my business is that I’m prepared… for the most part. A little Tide packet and an Armani store across the street, and I was all set. Time to see who was free for happy hour! 🍷

This entire journey, waifdom phase II, it has been truly soulful and quite inspirational with the most bizarre perfect timing on so many random levels. Not much went exactly as planned but could not have been planned better! Including my impromptu overnight in my oh-so-favourite San Fran. As a result of this unexpected delay, I was able to explain the amazing new itinerary delivery and management service Envizage has invested in, to a client face-to-face. Then a couple glasses of Cakebread with my Mrs. Adorable 😘 followed by a desperately-needed 90 minute in-room massage at the Four Seasons… voila! Perfection! The amazing masseuse (whose card I have) was thankful I’d sought her out given the amount of tension and knots kinked up in my body and noggin! I’ve incorporated a tricep challenge alongside my squat challenge… but it seems I didn’t realise the toll all this globe-trotting had taken. Perhaps it’s the 27 boxes of random candies I’ve collected for Bistro that seriously weighs more than half my body weight. Needless to say, it was all v meant to be. And I’ve got a brand new Armani tee to boot.

Santa Barbara continually becomes more enjoyable as more time away goes by. We hit some fabulous spots, enjoyed quite a bit of family time… unexpectedly got to see both my aunties and sis-in-law 😊 and was able to tick a lot of the unchecked boxes off for Envizage. Onward and upward! Watch out world, because it’s only just begun! x

I descended into JFK, listening to my new incredible French rap MC Solaar with an excited and refreshed approach to finding my new NYC apartment. Thanks to the figurative slap across my face: “I don’t think the kind of apartment you’re looking to upgrade to is achievable to find in two weeks, dear”. 😳 Gulp. But as I headed ‘home’, to the Palace, I was 100% excited! Jerry from the car service, my Polish bestie, delivered me with well-wishes and Polish vodka. It will be so fun to start looking for real and without pressure. Plus now I know what I’m doing in NYC, and know what to look for. It’s going to be exhilarating! 🌆

I kind of can’t believe I circled the globe and hit five countries. Even crazier is all the lovelies I was able to cherish some true quality time with in each destination. I am sorry but that is def bad ass. Oman, Dubai, Bangkok, Tokyo, Santa Barbara… and people I love so much in each of them.

Wait. I’m not sorry. I’ve decided to stop apologising for ‘being’. 😁

So phase III of waifdom awaits. It will encompass an eventful trip across the pond, some serious apartment hunting, website completion and the industry show of the year. I could not be more excited to have seven days in my beloved NYC though. I am in an Empire State of mind!!!

Then what happens? Grown-up-ism? 😦

B.R.I.N.G. I.T. O.N.

Absolutely LOVE being home in my NYC

jogging inside the gorgeous Lumphini Park

Ten days in the Middle East: check! A week in Bangkok: check! The nephew is doing really well: check! I became not only the [anti] american 😉 ambassador for Thailand’s tourism future but for Emirates 24-hour hotel check-in program as well. I got your back Dubai. I love how I’ve managed to find the only handful of beautiful genuine people within that land full of crazies. 😚

Spending such a long time in Thailand, with locals (old and new) after such a long time in the Middle East with expert expats was an interesting transition. I feel truly fortunate for being given a life (thanks mom 😊) and now a chosen career which allows for these experiences. It is rather empowering. Not in a power-monger way. As the VP pointed out: “you just don’t have an ego at all”, but in a positive, silver-lining and encouraging way. Honestly… think about it. Doesn’t everyone want to host a dinner-party at their house? Doesn’t everyone want their people to chill out for a bit in their neighbourhood? Doesn’t everyone want the people they love to equally want to do those things as well? Or am I the only sentimental one?! 😇 Being a realist in certain ways, I respect that not everyone has the desire, means or courage to travel. But it is quite rewarding to provide a bit of comfort and support to kindred spirits. Perhaps that is why travel has become my way and career… and why my people accept me for who I am. The VP is so redeemed for life with his randomly wise quotes of late: “you don’t have to love everything about everyone you love”. Quite honestly and obviously 😃 there are a lot of things I don’t ‘get’, but there is so much beauty, love and peace knowing that I don’t need to. I just wish my bus would add that stop to his route. 😔 For his own sake more than anything… pax. Sigh.

Thailand is so NOT scary. It is one of the most amazing cultures I’ve ever experienced… despite the coup d’état. Having been before, this trip was less about the newness or testing my comfort levels and more about the experiences, my business, and family. Much like Dubai, I’ve now seen and stayed in just about every bit of Bangkok and can speak articulately to it. As much as I’d ever need to, from a touristic viewpoint. The three colours of the Thai flag each have an endearing meaning. Red stands for the country Thailand, white for Buddha and blue for the King. The symbolism of the elephant is good luck, but extra good when it’s trunk is up! I learned about the extreme taxes and true wealth of many Thai people. They’ll always have their Buddhist mental wealth. But I’m talking about actual cash, amidst a country where one could live like royalty for $100 a week. I was recommended to take notice of all the locals driving Mercedes E Class carrying Coach handbags. Granted this separation of sorts exists in several major cities like São Paulo, Jo’Burg and Mexico City. Have a look even at my own neighbour Harlem, which is brilliant… in my opinion. Life is fascinating. Meeting with 5+ star hoteliers strategising how to promote tourism to their fabulously exotic destination, then spending time with a newbie expat who just happens to be my blood: it was good for MY soul.

Within the confines of one supposedly ‘dangerous’ city, I took a 3+ hour Italian business lunch with only the finest wines and black truffle, had a genuine chat with fruit and water vendors in Lumphini Park and went on a dinner cruise with 23 local Thai selfie-loving ‘gangsters’ on the Chao Phraya River. The common theme: we all seem to love and respect life, with a genuine underlying kindness. Yes it gets overwhelming at times, especially whilst running a business. Negativity has strong arms. It’s us fortunate ones who have fabulous aunties ☺️ soul mates and BFFs for that comforting support and reality checks. Disappointedly, I have left Thailand once again, without seeing even one ping-pong ball. Perhaps that is yet another thing ‘meant to be’… for the better. Waifdom phase II continues to be truly inspiring.

Whoever taught me to pull chopsticks apart, like doing the splits I could never do, rather than frontward and back… you have changed my life forever. And that wasn’t the only ‘first’ you showed me! 😆 Seriously though, I can work a chopstick with great precision and perfection. Heading into Japan now, it is nice without the anxiety of twisting them apart to an inevitable break. Pull, don’t twist! Where in the world were we when I so was enlightened? Definitely not Asia.

Mai pen rai, as my amazing nephew would say. 😘 He’s in such good hands with Patama. Alright then, enough of the drippy stuff! The weekend is over here in Asia. “You got to step up your game to make it to the top… so go-o”. Time to get those contracts updated, website copy edited and social media expert hired. I can see Harold Ziddler’s ginger moustache twitch about as he sings “the show must go on” at the Moulin Rouge. I’ve still got 150 squats to fit in. 😳

I was surprised late last night with a perfectly heated drawn bath. After a couple great chats equal distances east and west of Bangkok, and a few text photos of Pringles cans to some place in between… it was as if someone knew exactly what I needed well before I even did. I think the Butler did it! 😅 In my lavender hotel room with the candlestick.

I walked in to the perfect bath x

On the way out of the Middle East…

Am just off a gorgeous Emirates flight from Dubai to Bangkok, and I do sort of feel as though I’ve just survived my very own ‘special-guest’ episode of a Hamish & Ando show. That is a massive compliment, as the entire week was FULL of hilarity, genuine friendships, incredible lessons, brilliant insights and just a little bit of cray-cray. 😍

Fortunate opportunities… such as having guacamole and Vueve at a friend’s home pre-flight, in a far far Arabian land away, seems quite normal and more pointedly: comfortable to me. If only every phase of waifdom involved a Kirkie-bear send-off, sigh… my life would be so complete. 😘 I left Dubai FINALLY having properly received my very own ‘thank you, m’am-sir’ and I was wanting it bad. After all the politically incorrect jokes, that were hilarious and forever seared in my mind over the last 10 days… it was so needed, and organically delivered! Mr Armani was unphased but a bit surprised by the “oh shit” that followed from the Filipino server at the Dubai Yacht Club… on the first day of Ramadan. 😅 It’s early Sunday morning now in Bangkok and I’m excited to see my amazing nephew, meet his friends and have a little champagne brunch. What!? 😳 It’s been at least seven hours since my last champagne! It is really cozy returning to one of my most favourite cultures as well. Oh yes, uh-hem… and to work and do hotel sites as well. But yeah I got the duty-free Goose. Duh. This is my first time actually going ’round the world. It kind of does make me feel ‘bad ass’. However what is overwhelmingly cool is the familiarity of the roads as I travel from airport to hotel, although I forgot they drive on the other side of the road. Oh the English… “Thank you M’am-Sir”. 😅

Life can be so, so random! Last week in Oman was truly blissful, followed by a fun-filled decadent week at the serene Park Hyatt, and then a hilarious, eventful and sun-kissed Dubaian weekend in the Marina. There are so many stories….. it quite honestly could never translate. You just had to be there. I stole a crow bar in a Muslim country! To my defence I was at ‘demolition party’ and was encouraged to pillage the entire hotel. Only in Dubai. But I admit I was relieved to learn that the girl who had glass stuck in her chin… well, she’s okay. 😁 And I thought my life changed rapidly in Manhattan! Dubai operates a bit differently, and far more quickly. I definitely have my issues with the lifestyle and hypocrisy… but I have managed to discover a few of the most fabulous people anywhere on this planet.😚 and yes point taken: I will stop apologising for my presence! What a nasty little habit.

What a week it’s been, yet again it is time to suck it up. I am truly excited to be here in Thailand where I can get a ‘soapy’ (ha ha!), have foot massages all week and champagne for less than our pool bill was at The Address yesterday. 😉 Watching the risqué scooter drivers weave in and out of traffic… I am reminded how much I love this country. But seriously, it’s Sunday morning… and I can’t work out how the girl in the polka-dot dress, sitting side-saddle on the back of a scooter on Rajadamri Road, does not fall off. Because she is holding onto nothing but her purse! So random. I cannot wait to find an excuse to get back in a tuk-tuk…

Cheers and x, even xx and maybe even an ooo to all you special Dubai people. Safe travels to all and thanks for making me feel so special. ☺️ High-five! After my very touching Pakistani taxi ride to airport last night, where I was blessed, yet again, and admired for my open-minded ness (given I’m American) to now being greeted by the infectious Thai wai, I truly cannot wait to see what lies ahead this week. Before my impulsive Tokyo pop-over. 😳 Definitely a bit crazy. But I love it. And for the record… I never high five! (okay… well maybe once) 😂

Oh and hey VP, just when I think you’ve properly shown me all the Manchester bands a girl could ever want… someone else introduces me to Supergrass! 😉

Sawasdee ka.

… all the way to Bangkok!

These are Arabian memories I will never forget. These are friends who will never truly know the depth of my gratitude. This is a place that will continue to test my integrity and tolerance, but will forever hold such a special place in my heart. I knew phase II of waifdom would be spectacular… but it has completely blown my mind in all aspects and exceeded any slight expectation I may have had. And I’m still just half-way through the Dubai bit! Tomorrow I must leave the beautiful Park Hyatt at Dubai Creek, which I think is just breathtaking… despite the 45 degree weather. Americans: that’s well into the 100s. The world just seems to spin itself in mysteriously awesome ways, as I was originally not even meant to be in this neck of the woods. Turns out to be quite fabulous and chock full of lovely neighbours 😉 nor is it lacking of kind friends who ensure I am enjoying myself. I would be hard-pressed to have an unhappy reflection of the only part of Dubai that existed prior to the fabulous 1970s: the Creek. A pedestrian bridge has now been approved by His Highness Sheikh Mohammad Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, the Vice-President and Prime Minister of the UAE and Ruler of Dubai, to connect to the Dubai Mall side of this crazy destination. Thankfully I’ve got friends at the Dubai Government Tourism Board to keep us all apprised of the new developments! 😆 Get it all sorted by 2020, my lovely mate! xx And yes I really do dislike all your freaking acronyms! I will purposely not refer to or remember your job title from here on out!

I imagine my stay in the Marina will be rather amazing in it’s very own distinct way, and have a sense that gin will somehow be involved. 😳 sigh….. gotta love the Brits! And the Canadians and Aussies as well. And I think we liked the Omani too? They were kind to us at the border after all that ‘drama’ and the 7 bottles of alcohol we smuggled in. The weekend is still a bit fuzzy, especially after a long flight, convoy BMW drive, border-crossing, PMS and the Arabian Sea at 3:00am. No it is NOT the fucking Indian Ocean, okay!!? 😅 and no I don’t feel those little lit-up planktons stinging me! 😘 So long as there is no kracken (and plenty of gin) I am good-to-go! Apparently. I think it’s hilarious… my sea-less Santa Barbara childhood all grown-up and wading out in the midnight Arabian Sea. It was a full moon, yes… an actual full moon, not a literal one. Or maybe both. 😉

Gazing at the lights of Burj Khalifa, after stumbling upon that unbelievable Arabian sunset… I’m just proud of myself. I am 40 years old and don’t need anyone to tell me how or where to live my life, head up a business that I really do adore amidst it’s challenges and am so fortunate to travel the world. It’s not always pretty, but it is definitely learned and earned. And to loop back to where this thought began: I am so grateful for the friends I have collected that span the entire globe. It’s fucking awesome. You don’t choose your life, you live it! 😍 Have decided to extend my Bangkok stay, I want to meet and chill with the fabulous Thai colleagues my nephew has convinced me I will love. Hmm. That was a hard sell, eh? 😉 And I’ve now incorporated a bit of Tokyo logistics and hotel-site-seeing into my journey. Hellooooo Haneda and Narita.

Here’s a little special 40-year old shout-out to my momma who ‘gets me’. Thank you. xx

Oh and for the record, I’ve been taught the rules of the esoteric x. One x is ‘cheers mate’. Two xx is ‘love ya’. Three xxx is ‘let’s get it on’ and four xxxx is… well, I think it stops at five xxxxx but I’ll let your imagination do the walking on that one! 😊

Was it the constant flow of champagne? Pas du tout! Are only beautiful people allowed on the island? Perhaps. I mean, just take a look at my group. 😎 The immutable-talker we met on the flight was no beauty pageant contender though. Aside from that tinnitus-exacerbating first hour, I’ve concluded everyone else on that island is a total stunner. Even the island itself is stunning! The hunt for a beach better than Cayman has finally been denuded. Literally. 😍 Clearly there’s a reason St Barths is not as easy to get to. All the stunning people want to keep the lazy un-stun-worthy out.

We’ve all flipped through an ‘US Magazine’ at some point in time and deemed St Barths as impervious amidst the world of celebs, yachts and P Diddy’s antics. It’s worth finding a way on to see for yourself. I am fucking stunned and highly recommend this fabulous destination. I truly think it does not get any better than Saint Barthélemy and in the words of my new dear friend: “well I wouldn’t mind dying here”. 😅 And after all the ‘Pound It!’ action, it’s a wonder none of us did.

St Barths is just barely difficult to get to, but worth every effort. For one, it’s French… and we all know that the French do it for me every time. The kraken-less turquoise clear ocean, dramatic verdure terrain, charming downtown, stunning population and gastronomic cuisine simply cannot be beat! These last three days are quite high on my best-ever list. And I’ve got only Jaj and the infamous Hôtel Le Toiny to thank. Oh yeah and #shoutout 😉 to Chris.

For what started out as a week filled with disappointment in myself and a bit of stress, St Barths, along with my posse of ‘all-baby siblings’, managed to get most everything envizagley wrapped up, chill the fuck out and seriously enjoy life like Adam Levine would have, had we not been loving life loudly at the table next to him at Bonito on Friday night. 😇 Rocking curly hair and a backless sweater, after touring what now are known to me as the worlds most beautiful beaches… my v own little posse of stunners hit the streets of Gustavia. Every which way we looked, all our jaws were dropped, with an inability to say much more than ‘heyyyyy’ and smile and giggle our nights (and days) away.

Shell Beach, Gouverneur Beach, Flamands, Colombier and Saline were the most gorgeous I’ve ever seen. Not to forget our Sex-on-the-Nikki-Beach and my v own Beach Boy at Tom’s. That was after our yacht excursion when our Sugar Daddy Stéphane made my ‘dreams come true’ with a roadie of rosé. Sigh… that was just yesterday. Le magnifique Hôtel Le Toiny proved that ‘stunning’ can be relaxed, natural and simply elegant devoid of pomp and circumstance, without giving up one ounce of luxurious perfection. No €35 SPF sunscreen 75 ml bottle for sale there! We were encouraged to explore the island as their globally famous clientele does, and left 100% ensured any one of our clients sent would thank us profusely for the rest of their stunning lives for having done so. Heyyyyy, Le Toiny with your stunning GMs and uncanny gorgeous staff… I could not be more grateful. I will rock my Peruvian St Barths bracelet proudly and forever be reminded of the most stunning place I’ve ever been, with the most ‘amazeballs’ people that I am proud, now, to call friends. I embrace my newest Milieu nickname: Lips Costello, will never mispronounce Shawneen’s name again, long for that hysterically innocent F-bomb and already miss the core-engaging boy who spit in my face: from a noodle. This trip was so full of Heyyyyy it’s not even funny. Yet it was full of stunning hilarity and fun.

Merci beaucoup to everyone on St Barth, but especially to my hosts and amazing colleagues. It kind of doesn’t get any better than that. 😘 I premonition Lacaula, Fiji and a serenade of The Carpenters in our future. x

Méfiez-vous de Las Vegas, ici nous venons tous! In preparation, I will collect plenty of miracle Compeed during my travels, enough for me and Jaj. x

In a concerted effort to not piss off Kelly, I’ve been sunscreening my face and décolleté for the last three weeks whilst out and about in windy Santa Barbara. Today will be rather heroic as Phase Two of ‘waifdom’ officially begins. I can’t wait. 😁 There’s no day like botox day and I am ready to get this show on the road. It’s been a fabulous stay on so many levels but I really miss my crazy.

Santa Barbara is something else, that’s for sure. I exceeded my self-induced expectations. I was able to manage time for old-school friends and family, rocked Envizage’s busiest month-to-date for 2014, exercised daily, kept up Boo’s 30-fucking-day squat challenge and am en route to San Francisco with the comfort of having had a proper catch up with my love-bus… finally.

La vie est belle! Before heading back to the Palace, I have an amazing San Fran day ahead of me. It’s not often I say that. I found a non-flake San Franciscan (granted he’s actually German) to have lunch with, a few free hours to work, and meds in my pocket to assist with the sheer terror of my impending, albeit voluntary, tasering. My UBER issues are resolved and dinner with the cutest, most fun and hip family I know is scheduled! I’m telling you… botox day is even better than my birthday. 💫 it’s almost magical!

I did 50 squats while blow drying, 30 while putting on make-up and have just 50 more to go. The schedule is tight (as is my bum!) but I will find a way to squeeze them in. I wonder if Don’t-Piss-In-the-Pool-Paul would mind if I do them at Chez Papa Mint? Or should we go to Anchor & Hope… mmm or Barbacco is always nice. Already thinking about food even after my mother steamed me the perfect soft-boiled egg this morning… I’m at that bottomless-pit point of the month.

I feel well-prepared and ready for the madness that is my near future. Being in PDT, working for clients close and also really far away, I was still able to maintain a bit of random.com throughout. 😆 My Swiss friends in Texas (talk about random) gave me an educational lesson on the myth of the Phoenix and something having to do with ashes. The VP texted a photo of himself with a bit of facial hair (yes, still pretty freaking hot) and the big fish he caught. I had the most fun daytime surprise pop-in on my favourite boss, Biff. Mrs Jetsetter is keeping me grounded with our stars and exciting Mars transition. 🌟🌍🌙 I solved my fancy UAE client’s final leg of his ‘spend-Ramadan-elsewhere’ holiday. And people think I’ve got it great. Aside from his near-weekly corporate travel to fabulous places like Melbourne, Paris and Russia… the whole family will begin this year’s holiday at Hello Kitty and Disneyland Tokyo, followed by a couple weeks at Four Seasons Maldives and thanks to my random suggestion: a seaside villa in Dubrovnik. I really do love my job.

I am so appreciative of the time I was able to spend not only with with my family, but with so many people I’ve not seen in a hundred years. It’s impossible to hit everyone, but I sure as hell try. The other night a woman I went all through school with, who I hadn’t seen since our high school graduation, surprise-text me as she was in town from LA, just visiting like me, preparing for her own international adventure. We were never all that close and my memory is absolute shite. But she told me a story I had forgotten from when we were in eighth grade and I’ve not been able to get it out of my mind. No details are necessary but I was reminded that even then: I had the honest, ballsy, gritty kindness and genuine integrity I still carry with me today. I’m deeply flattered to have made an impression on her life, so simply and unknowingly, by just doing the right thing despite bullshit popularity and mean-spirited girls. 😊

Here I come Kelly… properly sunscreened and ready for your magic now! Phase Two has officially begun. Only 19 more sleeps, three countries and five flights before I leave for Phase Three!!! 😁 x

Am so happy to be in a real city again… even if it is San Fran! And by real I mean: no ‘burbs and no car required! 👸

The late night text I sent to the VP, random, on his weekday morning!

The Chocolate Gallery, 33 years and counting!

I believe you can. I feel justified declaring myself a full-blown New Yorker. The pace in sunny SoCal and me… well maybe we just don’t quite mesh. I feel abrupt just walking into the bank or a shop by the reactions that my mere contiguity seems to entice from the folks around here. It is interesting, to say the least. I’m unknowingly staring in a Cohen Brother movie. 😏 I have to admit that it’s difficult not to walk fast, get impatient at a cross walk when there are barely any cars on a massive suburban intersection, and ask sharp, precise and direct questions. I think my real problem is that no one else reacts with much swiftness. I’m not complaining, Santa Barbara is a very nice place. I walk these streets now with confidence… amazed how much nothing has changed. In fact, I’ve realised Country Meat Market is just across the road… how funny! And then Bob Seger comes on with “Still The Same” and I can’t help but reflect, with a huge sense of accomplishment and a giggle. I so completely respect all of my lovelies who simply love living in our hometown. I just cannot relate. I imagine many wouldn’t relate to my three mile walk to spin for two hours, as I must maintain the business, of course, but also my figure in anticipation of my upcoming ‘pool day’ with the VP. 😝 Eat-your-heart-out moments are secretly my most favourite.

In the land of the perpetual cul-de-sac, having just jumped the Overpass fence to the bike path, I passed the San Simeon house where I swindled that deal for a limo ride to my eighth grade ‘school dance’, and found the perfect avocado just fallen off someone’s tree. 😃 I watched Calle Real slowly go by, (and Jimbo as well!) 😊 and am genuinely moved by every song that proceeds the next, upon reflection of my last decade away. I’d never have known the words to that legendary Stone Roses ballad by heart, without the VP. I’d never have the relationship to music that I do, had my dear client not outfaced me to actually spin for charity rather than just donate money. I’d never have been introduced to Bob Dylan by my immeasurably loved special friend. Can’t imagine Gangnam Style would sound the same had Ashlee and I not smashed it at our London event. Would Ed Sheeran even be on my radar had that gorgeous tall Brit not downloaded it to my iTunes 😚 whilst in Mexico? And let’s face it… what would I even do without Pulp!? What I do know, is that more than anything, my head is lost on some bus with Edward Sharpe’s “Home”, and I simply must distract myself in the form of general mischief. 😇

“… and so it depends”… sigh 😕

I don’t count San Fran as real trips so therefore I’ve oddly not been on one since New Year. I must admit, I’m growing increasingly excited as St. Barth’s, Puerto Rico, Oman, Dubai, Bangkok and California hover in my v near future. As much as I’m trying to initiate change and market my incredible business, I think the ever-present debates about arranging Italian versus French hotel sites, or offers to pop across the pond 😉 helps to ground, legitimise and motivate me. With all the dead-weight now in storage, I must incorporate meeting my second grand-niece, Brooklyn 😍 in Washington State with a Vegas conference impending that I’m still not quite sure attending, for the third year in a row, is worthwhile. (and I’m completely full of shite, as it is not likely I’ll miss that reunion, I mean… conference)

I say this with respect, but if my internal debates were centred more around “what should I pick up at Country Meat Market for dinner”, I don’t think I’d be a v happy person. And on that note I’ll head over to the Chocolate Factory to collect a real down home special surprise for my Bistro family on the upper east side. 😁 Maybe I’ll turn on “Withnail & I” or “Amelie” for a bit of mental stabilisation. My six miles today, coupled with a two-hour self-spin sesh helped as well.

Turns out you can take the girl out of Santa Barbara and you can also take Santa Barbara out of the girl. I’ve officially defected. I’m hungry for New York, Capri and Seoul. However, as often or little I visit ‘home’, I can always count on this crow. This is the only fucking crow I’ve ever seen in my life… and it lives outside my parent’s house where I grew up. Not quite as scary as the kraken, but what is with this silly old bird? Speaking of kraken, to formally answer my dear friend’s question: I think I am really beginning to enjoy my liberation. x and here’s a tip: being at mum’s is not v gluten-friendly! Love you, mom! 😘

But “give me champagne when I’m thirsty, and… ” 😝

My parent’s pet crow 🙂

San Fran is bullshit. It leaves me with no other choice than to be hilarious and cynical like George: “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. I love this line because the interpretation is so subjective… if you remember the Seinfeld episode, each character had their own rendition of “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. 😄 Earnest. Angry. Jolly. Melodramatic.

I flew to San Fran (yes… I do refer to it as San Fran out of pure disrespect) just a day and a half ago. I’m not sure why I’m even here. Well… Four Seasons asked me to be. I do live, sell and stay at Four Seasons as often as possible… and apparently it’s been noticed. Plus I met a double Scorpio! And how else would my gorgeous HKG Catherine realise she’s got herself a fabulous rep! He did well. Who would have known otherwise?! (I’m sure they knew, but what-ev)

Coming to SF is like not coming to SF. What the hell does that even mean? I lived here for five years and outside of actual firm meetings… it’s like I don’t know anyone! Obviously my Kelly is exempt and truly loved. But I have never in my life experienced such aloofness as I have from the characters who pride themselves on being SFers. I have another word for you people! It begins with an F, and it’s not ‘fabulous’. I will exempt my dear Janice from the f-word as well… for nearly teaching me the difference between effect and affect, if nothing else. 😉 x

Had I not had the amazing, albeit last minute stay with my gorgeous Aussies, I’d have thrown in the towel a day ago. Thankfully chez Mill Valley had (literally) one vacancy on Tuesday! That entire family is so genuinely beautiful and quite grounding. But apparently, as my worldwide friendships expand, I’ve now got to clarify Sydney people versus Melbourne people… as they are two v different beasts. Mrs Jetsetter will have to show me firsthand! ☺️ The brilliant friend, at the heels of my business concept (several years ago), he’s struck again and unexpectedly boosted my entire focus to where it obliviously needed to be! I’ve always promulgated, as a karmic business woman of integrity, that every one of my trips proves invaluable in some form. So with Mill Valley, Kelly and Janice exempt of my SF abomination… today is a new day to enjoy margaritas in random 70 degree (or 21 to the rest of the world) weather and appreciate that yes, this trip did indeed serve a purpose or two. Despite the rest of you F’ers here in SF. Perhaps I’m a little cranky, but come on SF… let’s face it: you’re dirty, smelly, unfriendly and typically have the worst-ever weather. Let’s not try to fake beauty, cleanliness and pleasantries. Just because you have loads of organic foods and the Golden Gate does not make you beautiful.

Even though the polar vortex still lingers over my NYC, I miss it… and the water towers. I miss my lightening bus too.

I turned 40, and have had the most random client (degrading!) frustrations, suffered the second-time only illness and was only able to get 4 days of exercise banked in the last 29 days 😞 I think I’ve gone mental. Touch wood that I am officially on the mend and will be running in Central Park in no time! I’ve just read Chelsea Handler’s latest book… and though it’s a bit odd to read someone else talk randomly about vodka, lemons, men, xanax and travel, I’ve definitely concluded that I am a far better writer! With a bit less raunch…

This city leaves me with no other words than “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. But given my impending margarita lunch, I’ll go with the ‘earnest’ depiction of that classic line.

And… thank you Four Seasons. I love you! 😘

What the F just happened? I feel like Sweet Dee looks in the attached photo, from my favourite show: It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. She went on to do unshowered (love her) standup comedy in this episode and coined the phrase: ‘The joke’s on Dee’. And it is so appropriately on demand in seat 1A, which is a miracle I’m even sitting in. 😳

I am almost at a loss for words (shocker!) how to articulate my last 48 hours. My left leg, which is well-known, worldwide, as being hollow. Well it’s now gone dead. But I have a rockstar to blame for that. And Tom, we all know JG Tom… thinks I had a stroke. 🚷 I paraded, for random analysis, up and down the restaurant, whilst the late night crew gauged the seriousness of why my left leg keeps just folding. This was after the first 3 of 13 inches of snow fell last night, when I walked the deaf and speechless v kind neighbour into his apartment safely. Earlier in the afternoon, I had a bit of a bet with the rockstar to uphold. Later on, I fell up some stairs after the most unbelievably odd (yeah even for me!) evening, fell out the taxi home (sober !!!), walked my deaf friend home, got cash while a new perky afghani friend waited, and then fell twice in the sludge. Sadly my falls were not even sludge related as I had the Hunter boots on. At least JG had a laugh! It’s so weird though it’s actually funny… I cannot feel my left hollow leg. There’s no issue though, no pain. Just numbness. The cute afghani tried to randomly massage life back into it, but after I catwalked to Paul Simon’s ‘slip out the back Jack’ and my v own Bobby D’s: ‘you’re gonna make me lonesome’, at JG, our conclusion was: you’ve had a stroke. 😯

I thought that maybe once I slept a bit and some of those pinched nerves relaxed that today it would be better. See… I am currently en route to San Fran just for the day. For Kelly I’d go to the moon and back 😆 yes every 4 months. Anyway, the afghani and stroke analysation kept me out far later than anticipated and I slept through my alarm. 😣

I awoke in an absolute frenzy at 7:39am, after 13 inches of overnight NYC snow, without car service on call… for an 8:55am flight to SF. Yeah the fucking ‘joke was on me’ alright! I brushed my teeth, threw on clean jeans and panties… and just hauled ass downstairs. I thankfully had an amazing taxi driver. I’ve got no clue how I made this flight as ‘they’ say JFK is at least 30 minutes from the upper east side in zero traffic. Good luck during rush hour valentine day, which is bullshit (valentine not rush hour traffic!), Friday after 13 inches snow and in prep for another 6 tonight… I f’ing made it. Granted, my left leg ‘gave out’ as I stepped out of taxi into airport and yeah another (the 6th or 7th time now) knee plant into the snowy sludge. So just take a sec for the visual: Liz after three hours sleep, dead left leg, pony tail, all my shit thrown into purse (except my vitamins I took the time to get the 7 pills out! still laying on my kitchen counter), trying to get myself sorted as it got closer and closer to my 8:55am flight. The Van Wyck was surprisingly quick, nothing but a jacket and stupid briefcase in tow, falling out the taxi (literally) onto the ground 😝 then being immediately shuffled away in my sweet frantic charming panic, to the front of all TSA and boarding lines… and onto my flight. In time for a pre flight champagne. What the hell. Silver lining: I wore no mascara last night so I’ve got no dark circles or make up running down my pretty little soon-to-be-freshly-botoxed face. Botox day is even better than my birthday and it comes 4 times a year. With someone like Kelly… it’s just indescribable. But for me it’s ALL about my Kelly, NOT the botox! She’s just genius.

I’m not in the lulu but venture to guess Kelly will take one look at me today and just shake her head. We’ll all have a big laugh at dinner tonight (before my red eye home) and then next weekend as everyone will be present in NYC. That is, if my left leg ever decides to work again. I half-folded after my TSA security check-in. I’m learning to control it I think! Or at least how to land softly. BART ought to be interesting! I miss Nilmar.

Things are a bit surreal and likely will be until my big 4-0 passes. Then what will we all do? 😢

And I love my favourite client: “so exactly how many ex-boyfriends will be there?” Haha… v funny. (though it does still remain a mystery!)

x

Best text ever… brought to real emoticon life!

You just know it’s going to be a fantastic trip when your flight attendant shouts across the cabin to you: “he couldn’t get it up?” 😁 So hilarious. I have lots of quirks… actually I think they’re multiplying as I age, but one of them is having the window seat on a plane. One of my windows, at seat 5F home to JFK (finally!) was broken. As I sipped on champagne while the rest of the flight boarded… I mouthed and motioned to the gorgeous young blonde (a refreshing reprieve from United’s norm) that my second window shade would not raise. She could tell by my facial and hand gestures that I wasn’t fussed about it, just relaying information. Next thing you know the sole male flight attendant came over and attempted to get my window shade up. Failure. I was totally cry-laughing when the sweet curly-haired crew asked rather loudly and innocently (as heaps of families were still boarding) from quite a few rows away: “oh, he couldn’t get it up?” And dumb ass me, I answered just as naive, “nooo but it’s not a big deal”. We both erupted with uncontrollable laughter once it set in.😂 Perfect way to start my first journey home for 2014, just three hours later than scheduled… today. Technically it’s 29 hours and three solutions later than my original plan.

Happy New Year! Year of the horse. The entry into my fourth decade. 😏 I honestly couldn’t be happier. Last year was a bit of a shocker on several levels… I’ll spare you the details. But the attached photo pretty much sums it up. My ridiculously kind, albeit, stoic AJ had the text that yanked me out of a massive spinning hysteria made into a big painting!!! Instant tears. I love it so much. I was all freaky deek over the VP back in March in Paris. I was a little emotionally paralyzed still after an hour-long Skype… until I received this text: 👸🔫🍷xxx. It was the thing that broke the camel’s back. (pun intended) for that night at least! 😆 and so it goes…

New Years was really good. Much needed down time at my aunties was just what the doctor ordered. Thank you… I love our sock monkey trio. The downtime is oh so precious. As was the jammie run ‘to the border’. I’m always nostalgic and excited for the new year. This one was exceptionally odd… equal parts odd-fabulous and odd-shit-show. 😳 I love living this life and am proud by my abilities to manage the shit-show aspects of it a bit more constructively. Reflection on 2013 has been kind of overwhelming, and still a work in progress. I’m exhausted by the memories let alone having just lived it! I think too, that I exited with a new brand for my business (which will be five years in March) and have the fabulous new F-word approaching, causing me to reflect a little more intensely. I am in awe to be honest. Looking back on 2013, I feel pretty heroic! I rebranded, traveled more than ever, hired Ash, maintained the business, have a new kick-ass tat, was active in three industry shows worldwide, we won’t mention men, I threw my grandmother a birthday party, witnessed another incredible nuptial, and made or reconnected with more incredible friends than I could have ever imagined having. Yet, still I am jilted. But that’s okay… sufficed to say, I am a functioning jiltee. Special thanks to my 2013 ‘connections’ for all the strength you’ve unknowingly provided. 😘 I’m serious! I am secretly fascinated to discover what insanity.com will deliver along with the super new moon. Oz and Oman for sure. Oh yes… let’s not forget Reykjavik!? Who the hell goes to Iceland in February? Um… the girl who goes to the UAE during Ramadan. That would be me!

I’m a bit bummed to have missed Snowpocalypse Hercules in NYC. I am ready to take 2014 full on and anxious to get home. But stupid San Fran f’ed me over once again. I love, more than anything, living with real seasons. Me and my new UNIQLO puffy jacket. We are definitely bad ass. This new horse year implies it’s going to be a hectic one already with events this week, loads of travel, and given I’m now Swiss I must celebrate Three Kings Day tomorrow! Thanks to this random 167 mph tailwind I am getting there rather quickly. Polar vortexes rock! 😃 Some people worry about me on the holidays, but there’s no need. I kind of have to disappear and recharge during this time, and realize I cannot deprive myself of it. I work hard, and it’s all me… which can be a lot of pressure. Now I am legitimately looking forward to getting jiggy with it on our first Monday morning of 2014. I am ready to roll! I’ve got to figure out how to ship booze to Washington State. My most adorable first nibling won our Philadelphia Eagles vs New Orleans Saints bet last night. Distance makes no difference in my world. My first shot as a 40-year old will be with the boy… though it will NOT be a jaeger bomb like the night he told me he was off to buy an engagement ring like 100 years ago. Ouch. Us Costellos can be rather persuasive… and are loads of fun. 😉

Hope everyone had as nice an entry to 2014 as I did. For the record, I’ve only had ONE non-showered-slept-in-my-clothes night this year. x and ooo

Renea, Lizzie and Jeanne (why is everyone touching me?)