I know it may not be particularly cool, but this is one New York resident who will never get tired of spotting celebrities around town. Yesterday was one of those surprisingly gorgeous spring days in Manhattan: 62 degrees and sunny, Central Park was literally packed tree to tree with people who were out enjoying the day. On my way to brunch on the Upper West Side, I was walking through the park, and low and behold, there was Mr. Former Governor Eliot Spitzer in the flesh, casually strolling along with his two dogs and a woman that I will assume to [View Full Entry]

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Tonight I became acquainted with two guys in New York: Joe and Ryan. Let me start with Joe. OK, so I didn't exactly meet a man named Joe. (Sorry to disappoint those looking for a juicy story). Rather, I finally became acquainted with Joe’s Pub. Located near Astor Place in the heart of the Village, Joe’s Pub is one of those New York City institutions, a local venue known for showcasing up and coming artists - as well as those who have already come up. Seeing a show here was recently added to my list of “Must Dos in New York [View Full Entry]

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What has been a topsy-turvy, emotional roller-coaster end to 2008 and start of 2009 is now smoothing itself out, and with great relief I find I have landed safe and sound back in the comfort of New York City. I know this may come as a surprise to many of you, for New York does have the reputation of being overwhelming, exhausting, dizzying. But it is also safe, inviting and accepting, the kind of city that will take you in with open arms and never, ever judge who you are or who you want to be. Maybe for this reason alone, [View Full Entry]

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Finally, I am back home in New York City (insert Sigh Of Relief here). I am realizing that in the past 7 weeks of travel, I will have slept on 16 different beds/couches, including 2 nights spent cramped up in an airplane seat. I know some of you out there can empathize. I return home after 9:00 at night. I have spent the entire day en route, wide awake as the plane crossed over time zones and the Atlantic Ocean. I should be exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I want to unpack, read through all that forgotten mail, and begin to [View Full Entry]

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I have eaten my way through Paris. Chocolate, wine, bread, cheese and pastries, every single day. By my last day here I feel sick and full and fat, but I can’t help myself. It seems as though there is a patisserie, a boulangerie and a chocolaterie on every corner, and I make sure to visit them all, every single day. They are much too inviting to pass by. And anyway, French cuisine is heavy on the meat, so my meals in restaurants are always the same: either a large salad, usually the nicoise, or a plate of smoked salmon with crème [View Full Entry]

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I have died and gone to French Country Paradise. There is no other way to describe my visit to the home of the Meuniers in the teeny, tiny village of Orange (700 residents, I think) in the Provence region of Southern France. My new friend Antoine, of Beijing Olympic Games fame, invited me here to meet his family, see his home, and get to know their gigantic dog Slovane - the true king of this French castle. And now I realize that the best thing about having friends is that they have parents with really great homes! Orange is located near [View Full Entry]

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Breakfast this morning was a double espresso and a chocolate croissant. Dinner tonight will be a hunk of aged cheese, a bar of dark chocolate, and a bottle of red wine. Why? Because I am in France. I often ask myself why we pick up certain habits and do certain things while traveling that we would never, ever do at home. I can buy cheese, chocolate, croissants, crusty baguettes and red wine on any corner at any shop in New York City. But I don’t. When in New York, when at home, these foods are eaten rarely and sparingly, and are [View Full Entry]

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When a girl finds herself far away from home, in a foreign land, without a car, facing a long bus ride into town, and laden with nearly 500 euro and many heavy pounds worth of bedspreads, sheets, towels and bath mats, what is she to do? Simple: call upon the most contentious yet quintessential of all lessons garnered from her favorite childhood stories. Quickly set out to find herself a Knight in Shining Armor. Or, at the very least, a guy with a car. Today I returned to the illustrious Zone Industrie on the outskirts of Cannes to finish the mattress-shopping [View Full Entry]

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I am thinking that the reason the French eat so much bread is because they need something to soak up all the red wine they are drinking. At least, this has become my excuse. After two days of racing the 45-minute walk at a ridiculous pace to get to class every morning, arriving all sweaty and very-frizzy-haired, I finally got smart today and discovered that I could actually take the bus. For a mere 1 euro and a 10-minute ride, I was dropped off directly in front of the school this morning, arriving calm and relaxed and not sweaty, with plenty [View Full Entry]

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Today was my first day of school. Last night I carefully laid out just the right outfit, set aside my school supplies and packed my bag with the days essentials. OK, not quite. But it was kind of fun to get up and go to school again after all these years. I signed on for a French Intensive class at the College International de Cannes. The price is exorbitant (300 euros for one week of class) and the location not exactly ideal (a good 45-minute walk from the apartment) but I justified the cost by thinking of it as an investment [View Full Entry]

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