Filed under: Sanity
Planes, trains and automobiles. It’s the season. . .well at least for me anyway. Lately, I live out of my suitcase and don’t really have a firm grip on whether I am coming or going. Which explains my temporary insanity Friday night.
I spent the better part of the week in the big apple. One day it was hot, the next it was freezing. This really has nothing to do with my story, but thinking about it just then pissed me off all over again. I got home Friday afternoon and immediately went into my office for a few hours. After work I had to run some errands – to Sephora (never, ever a good idea on a Friday night at a god awful mall) and to buy my Mom a birthday gift. I debated skipping both but knew I would not have any other time over the weekend. I dropped my favorite eye shadow pod on the floor of my hotel bathroom and of course 4 out of the 6 palettes broke. The two that remained were my least favorite and less used. So the fear of having drabby naked eyes and a disgruntled Mom drove me to the mall.
I unlocked the door to my apartment at 7:30PM and swore that I would unpack and repack my weekend bag in a half hour. Mike and Grover were on the Cape already. And better yet, at a costume party at the Club. Good miss on my part. Anyway, my goal was to be on the road by 8PM.
8:24PM and I am loading the car with my weekend bag, a lonely beach chair that had somehow made its way to the city and a pile of mail. The car had no gas. Well I lied, Mike left me with a little over a quarter of a tank, but not enough to get me over the bridge. In fact, with my luck I would have run out on the bridge right in front of one of those “Good Samaritan” signs.
I turned the corner to the only gas station that I know of in the city and was surprised to see all the media trucks parked around Fenway Park. Reminded me that we were in the World Series. Fenway Park is truly a special place. I am not a huge fan (only jump on when everyone else does really) but I have to admit I got a chill driving by.
Filled her up and decided I needed to do the same for me. I was hungry. I stopped and got a yummy Jimmy Carter smoothie with Vitamin C (immune system is tired from all my travels) and Fat Burner (my ass is screaming at me that I should be running to my destinations instead of planting it on another train or plane seat). Now I was finally ready to hit the road.
I got on the expressway and was headed to the Cape. At least that’s where I thought I was headed. But when did we put in a tunnel? And why am I seeing Terminal signs? I drove myself to Logan. I was deliriously tired. Mentally and physically exhausted and went into what my Mom later told me was “road hypnosis.” I have been traveling so much lately that I automatically drove to the airport.
It gets worse. I try to exit the airport and end up lost (completely lost) in the bowels of East Boston. I call Mike. He is at the costume party and has just won a prize for “most authentic” costume. He wore his kilt. For those of you who know him, all I can say is shocker.
Luckily, I found a very nice toothless taxi driver who lead me all the way back to Storrow Drive. We stopped (both cars) along the way to pick up a stray fare. What this guys was doing in East Bumf*%k I have no idea, but I knew I wasn’t about to get out of my car to ask. Toothie waved me on to follow him and once again we were off.
I made it home. And slept for over 10 hours.
I wore my pink Red Sox hat to the Cape, ran 5 miles today and bought a new suitcase. I feel recharged and ready for the next three weeks. In those three weeks, I will take four flights, two trains and spend 12 nights in a hotel.
Tomorrow I am on the first train to NYC. Have bags will travel. And GO SOX!
Filed under: Events
Yesterday I went to a wedding of a very good guy friend of mine. I have known him now for over 7 years and in that time he has truly been like a brother to me. A devilish brother but a brother nevertheless. I met him the same day that I started working for one of my famous clients. He was his personal assistant which translated into my daily contact.
He and I instantly hit it off. We shared the same sense of humor, the same love of art and music and the same love of people. Only difference, I was married and he was single. Single, working for a star and handsome. Deadly combination.
I loved hearing all his dating stories and took him out with me and my girlfriends all the time. He was fun and he was safe. Sort of. I had to warn him a few times to stay away from my innocent interns and to please “not go there” with a few of my friends only because I knew he was a player. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. And as you can imagine, we got into our share of arguments about the way he treated women. But we also talked a lot about life and what would ultimately make him happy.
Two plus years ago, he emailed me pictures of a girl he met at some fundraiser. And told me he was in love. Later that same week I visited him in his office and saw all kinds of pictures of this chick hanging all over him and his cubicle. It had not been a week. (And they say girls take things too fast.) I told him to play it cool (thought I would never say this to him) and just to take it slow. You have to understand, his last girlfriend I nicknamed “scabby bitch.” This girl slayed him and then treated him like last season’s shoes.
But this one was different. He was dying for me to meet her and was he was so god-damned happy that it was contagious. Everyone noticed the change in him. He noticed the change in him. This girl was a keeper. More importantly, I liked her.
Yesterday was an incredible day. Steve and Diana got hitched and their love for each other and love for life itself permeated the air. I have to admit I woke up in a cranky mood. I was away all week and was tired. When I got home Friday night I had a birthday dinner and then had the wedding. The last thing I wanted to do was set my alarm, get up at the crack of dawn and drive almost three hours to a wedding. But it was for Zip and as we get older, we realize the importance of doing things for the friends we love.
My mood changed the minute I walked into the church and saw all his hockey buddies. I too had become good friends with many of these guys. It was a mini reunion of sorts. And we were all family in a way. Even our famous friend flew in for the occasion. He has been away shooting a movie and was not sure if he would be able to make it. Seven years of practically unconditional service in my opinion, you make sure. He came through (thank god). The day also gave me the chance to meet his family. I have seen them all in pictures, talked with them on the phone and knew about them through stories. But to put the faces with the names was a great feeling. His mom hugged me and told me she recognized me immediately from all of his photos too. I now understand why he is the way he is. His mother is a sweetheart and I am so glad to have finally met her. Zip actually met my parents a few years back. He and my Dad went on a few rides at an event we produced at an amusement park.
Our table was a good table. Good people and good placement. And for the rest of the day all we did was laugh, dance, drink and laugh some more. All for the deliriously happy couple. The combination of their joy and the rented photo booth made for a truly special day. Below are some highlights. Obviously the more we drank, the sillier we got. The mood is captured here in the series below. There are a bunch more strips – half of which are now in an album for the bride and groom and the other half in my friends purses and jacket pockets. At one point, we had our entire table in the photo booth. That my friends is what life is all about.
The pursuit of happiness and the happily ever after.
Cheers Steve and Diana. Thank you for reminding us how it’s done.
Filed under: Fashion
For days now I have been struggling with what to wear. It’s after Labor Day and yet it’s still been pretty hot and worst yet, muggy. These transition days are tough. I mean do we let the calendar or the temperature dictate our outfits?
I was in NYC this past week and so wanted to sport some pieces from my new fall wardrobe. However, I found myself worrying if I was going to be too hot or look too uncomfortable. I did wear one pair of new black, long trouser shorts, but they just didn’t feel right with sandals. They are wool and were screaming for the suede booties, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. I also packed my new gray oversized, super cool cardigan (from my spontaneous spree that I fell victim to while waiting for my appointment with my hair stylist) that looks fierce over a beater and with my brown motorcycle boots, but because of the mercury level, only ended up wearing the beater.
I am a summer girl and I do crave the hazy, hot and humid days and nights. But I love fall and lust the fashion. For days I have been dreaming about dark denim, boots and Wolford tights. Now I think it’s finally time to change the closets and hand wash all the cashmere in baby shampoo (little secret gals. . .do not dry clean your softest knits, try good old J & J. Your sweaters will have no more tears).
Its Sunday night and we just saw The Heartbreak Kid, directed by our friends the Farrelly Brothers. It’s about a guy who struggles with his marriage because he is head over heels in love with someone else. And in true Farrelly fashion manages to draw a bunch of belly laughs. Most of the movie takes place in Cabo San Lucas (I can’t escape this place and have to conclude that another trip there must be in my future. Mo you want to go?) The sunshine, the tans and the beaches looked so inviting. Sometimes all you need is a great bikini, a practical pareo and a summer cocktail.
Tonight, however, I was thrilled to finally wear that new sweater and my motorcycle boots (perfect outfit for the movies, Sunday breakfast at a diner counter and/or running errands in the city). And all I need now are a couple of warm, fresh baked cookies and a cup of tea. We have months of fall weather ahead and plenty of occasions to flaunt the new digs. Boy do I love having things to look forward too.
Right now though I am going to curl up on the couch with the latest Travel and Leisure. Fall is in the air, but resort wear is not that far off.
Filed under: Events
The fourth and final day of our celebrity golf event started like the others. I know I said weather is one of the things I have no control over, but let’s just say I owe Mother Nature for these four days. Once again it was sunny and in the mid 70′s.
All the guys were in great spirits and looking forward to the second day of their competition. I honestly love watching guys compete, especially when there are prizes involved. They degress before our eyes and are instantly transformed into little kids. And we are known for providing great prizes. Bragging rights and trophies for sure but also an entire buffet of autographed sports paraphenalia to add to all these “collectors” entertainment rooms.
My girls know the last day of the event is the easiest. All we have to do today is set up prizes, close the silent auction and send them on their merry ways. Something they have done now for years and can almost do it blindfolded. Although read on and you will learn why I don’t recommend performing any tasks at one of my events with one’s eyes shut.
Breakfast was served, golfers were on the course and I had some down time. I looked at the row of golf carts that I asked the Pro Shop to mark “Do Not Touch” and specifically for my use and decided Lys and I should take one out and visit our groups on the course.
Riding in a golf cart (or any type of moving vehicle for that matter) is always an adventure with me. I am not saying I am a bad driver. But I do like to multi-task. When driving the golf cart it’s not really my driving skills that need some honing, but rather my navigational skills. Not this time though – I was able to chat on my phone, calculate what hole our host was on since he teed off hours earlier, found the lunch hole, grabbed a burger and caught a few rays.
Meanwhile back at the clubhouse, my girls decided they too wanted to venture out onto the course. What the hell, let’s take a cart and explore. At least one of them remembered her walkie. I don’t know where they went or what they did, but I do know they didn’t return the way they started out. Somehow their cart died and they had to seek alternate transportation back to the club. Picture three girls, tails between their legs and heads down. . .what a sight. Almost as good as my shirtless nitwits that christened Court 5 the day before.
Becky placed an SOS All Call from her walkie and got the ProShop. But the poor blonde (sorry Becky, it was just so fitting here) had absolutely no idea what hole she was stranded on and where they were in general on the course. They had deserted the cart and started to walk. In what direction they ask. No idea. So after a few more carefully asked questions and a few weak answers of there are some trees and an outhouse, the rangers rescued my monkeys.
Here is where the heads down part really comes into play. Poor Beck must have picked the short straw and ended up riding bareback on the back of the cart.
“Low bridge!” She ducked just in time.
In the event business you have to keep your eyes wide open. A low bridge is always right around the bend.