Weird Shit Velcro – Stories About Navigating The Human Landscape

I have captivated all of my friends and family for many years with my dating and daily life stories. Thus, this blog is my opportunity to share these amusing and ridiculous anecdotes with anyone who is interested, bored with their life, passing time or just has the awesome, shit ass luck to run upon it by chance. If nothing else, you will be entertained…start with March 20 "You will be entertained….too good to make up."


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In life there are no coincidences….it’s all happening for a reason that will hopefully unfold….

“There are only two ways to live your life.  One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is.” ― Albert Einstein,

“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.” ― Albert EinsteinThe World As I See It    

There are no coincidences…it’s all happening for a reason.  That’s what I keep telling myself. I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in 14 years last night randomly as I walked into a restaurant on the spur of the moment…the same restaurant which is located in the exact same spot where I applied for a job at Club Med when I was 22.  Last year, I sat in the exact same seat in which I interviewed for my Club Med job, now that it’s a restaurant, and planned my departure from NYC.  Today I ran into another old friend from college on the street in midtown who I haven’t seen in 14 years…..both of these people live in LA and work in the entertainment business. A business which I still entertain the thought of re-entering…..so what’s the reason? There must be a reason….something to ponder. What are the reasons why things are happening in your life? Good, bad, interesting, mundane. Think about it. 

Below is something that I came across that just makes me laugh every time I read it. And I love Christmas! Happy humpday. What a weird phrase….

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Firsts…Flying and John Denver…Live, Laugh, Love….

Back from a long weekend in Boulder and listening to the song “Fly Away” by John Denver (solo) for the first time and boy it resonates. I am also wondering if this is why my two recurring dreams that I have had since I was a child end with me running in a grassy area, literally taking off with my arms outstretched (think airplane) and flying above all the trees and looking down at the beauty of nature. Ahhh how I miss nature.  I hiked up Mount Sanitas this weekend during the only few hours of sunshine Boulder had this weekend and it was amazing!

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It’s come to me on many occasions recently that firsts are (generally) the best. Your first real kiss. Ever. For me, it happened while at tennis/golf camp in NH (now you get a sense of my upbringing and I picked it) – age 12. I was there to kick the shit out of some tennis balls. Peter was 13 – he was there for tennis too.  Both of us were from outside of Philadelphia. Competing schools. Odd how that happened in retrospect. And Steve was my first real crush. He was also 13. Yes I know I just said I kissed Peter but you will understand when you read the next paragraph.  Steve happened to live in Rhode Island and my mom happened to have just started dating someone who I liked a whole lot better after I learned he had a summer house in, coincidentally, Rhode Island.  And my 12 year old self decided that Steve was the cutest, most incredible guy ever and was going to be the first person I ever slept with. And he was. Again read on for the age. Don’t get crazy. And anyone who knows me knows that I only use the first letter of people’s names in this blog but yes those are their real names.  

Anyway, yes back to firsts.  Your first whiff of your lover’s scent. A first kiss with someone you really care about.  A first kiss with someone you know you are never going to ever really care about.  Or my first kiss with the one I loved long before we ever, ever kissed.  Your first love.  Your first concert. Mine was The Police Synchronicity Tour. Dating myself maybe but I was 12. Do the math. Whatever. Really intense first eye contact with someone you don’t know. The first time you drove. Nantucket for me – stick shift on dirt roads at the age of 9.  The first time you had sex.  I was 17, almost 18 (yes Steve).  Late bloomer among my friends. Still am apparently. Only in the traditional ways. The first, and in my case, only, time I got (or will have) cancer.  Since it was caught by accident and was early, it actually was a good first.  

First dates. LOTS of first dates.  Again.  Only two second dates. Where the hell is my last first date!!!  A first hug that lasted an hour. Who knew that could even happen?! But it did somewhat recently.  And it was truly incredible.   And easy. But, as I have said, perception is a fascinating thing.  Maybe I just needed a really great hug that day and that’s all it was after our first great, sunny day in New York.  Maybe not. Who knows and I probably will never find out.  Father and son simultaneous pick up attempt this past weekend at the St. Julien. The son was a very recent college graduate – it was CU graduation weekend which is why I was there – Eric Stough was the keynote speaker.  I was the ball in their testosterone tennis match.  Kid thought I was 24, then 26 max (nice but a little ridiculous) and I don’t think the father cared about my age but I was a good bit younger than he.

My first time in a legal, recreational pot dispensary in Colorado. Now that was really fascinating….take a number, hang out in the waiting room on the couch with regular looking people and even a family with a grandmother, mother with a Channel bag and preppy flats and her maybe 20 year old daughter all shopping together and making it a family affair.  Well it actually was the day before Mother’s Day. Maybe they were buying gifts.  When my number was called, my friend Steff and I walked into the back room which was essentially a store with a few stations.  Very knowledgeable staff and the selection was quite diverse – bud of course and every product type had a variety of strengths. Now even though I have smoked my fair share and ate some candy to get though chemo, I am not well versed in THC milligrams. There were different strength pills. Different strength candy bars in Oreo cookie and a variety of other flavors. Hard candy came in 10, 25 and 50mg. Drops in five flavors – watermelon, plain, spearmint, vanilla and cinnamon – I was paying attention.  It was quite an operation.   Now I understand Rocky Mountain High even better.

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Back in the loneliest city in the world.  First night sitting on a chaise on my terrace drinking port I brought back from Lisbon under an almost full moon in the warm weather though which is so great.  Boulder was beautiful but snow and hail in May is fucking absurd.  But NYC doesn’t feel right either. For more than a night or two.

Self pep talk….

Need to fly.

Before I die.

Here amongst the cement.

But where?

Want to see the ocean.

Put my feet in the sand.

Hear the waves ripple.

And climb up a canyon.

Want a partner.

But how? 

If I move he will come.

Life is so short.

I need to make it happen.

My work motto – There is never no…there is only how. And that’s NOW.

LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE as it says below……OFTEN! Well, I’ve got two outa three. I am on my way!

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From yoga and kale to beer and pizza to pompous and plain old douche-y…back in the dating game…and a Yankee….

Perception is such an interesting thing.   It has often been said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder but in reality, in the day of electronic devices and neuroscience, what does that really mean? Beauty is subjective for sure but I don’t think having a good character is.  I don’t think being good hearted is subjective.  Or being able to recognize when someone has good intentions or ill intentions. I have been told that I have high standards.  That I shouldn’t hold everyone to my standards of what to do or not do.  I will admit that I do have a problem saying no to those who need me but I still think that being a good person in one’s core is of utmost importance in life. At least in my life.  I am a work in progress. 

So…back in the dating “game” so to speak and it’s been interesting. I have a knack, as you may have gathered, for meeting people pretty much everywhere I go but actually putting yourself proactively back in the dating scene is sort of fascinating.  It has made me think about what’s really important. What I am really looking for. What I really care about.  And the answers are clear and yet not clear.  Post cancer I must say my perspective has, probably rightfully, changed a bit.  It has also been interesting to see what other people care about – i.e. potential suitors – while taking a deep plunge back into the life of being actively single in NYC.  Some men are very superficial – shocker I know. Thankfully, I apparently do not disappoint, and in fact surpass my photos, in the physical sense which I suppose is good.  Some “men” (term is used loosely on purpose) are introspective.  One liked to hunt, fish, hike and go boating while another, who lied about his height and age, touted his $2000 wallet from the oldest saddlery company in the UK which he had just purchased (the saddlery company that is).  One maintains an alkaline diet and does yoga seemingly non-stop while another golfs and eats primarily white carbs.  It’s been a while since I have proactively taken this stance and I frankly only did it because my Australian friend asked me when the last time was that I had a date in NYC.  And I honestly couldn’t remember.  The question gave me great pause actually.  I dated a few people from outside the country last year, outside the city the year before while undergoing treatment but in even NY state….hmmmm……I couldn’t remember the last date I had in the state or city.  So why the fuck not I figured.  And I should probably share that giving up the “F” word didn’t really work. I was up to $31 in 24 hours as apparently it turns out that my mother was right about something and I do have a mouth like a sailor.  I decided four days in that, while I am trying to figure out my career and start dating again, I simply couldn’t afford to also give up the “F” word. Life is too stressful and it was simply too expensive of an enterprise so I abandoned the idea. Next year back to sugar.

Anyway, spring is trying to bloom in NYC.  I went to a Yankees game tonight as well as two weeks ago.  I must admit that when I enter that stadium I can’t help but think about the fact that I turned down a date with Derek Jeter.   Now I am a baseball fan but I have always been a Phillies fan.  Growing up outside of Philadelphia after all. So it was, GASP, ten years ago when my friend Brian and I went to a party at Tavern on the Green and I played the awesome wing woman that I have been known to be.  I was a few cocktails in and I asked Brian who he wanted to meet. He pointed to an attractive girl and I said “ok I got it.” I walked over to her and said “Hi. My friend over there is a great guy and I would love to introduce you.” She responded that she was married. Albeit, again I must mention that I had a few cocktails and I am a GOOD friend thus I retorted “Well, I can’t imagine that your husband is any better than my friend over there” as I pointed. She came back with “I am married to Jorge Posada.” I said “I have no idea who that is.” She said “he’s the catcher for the Yankees.” I boldly said “well…(pause)…he can’t be that much better than my friend but I understand.” So I befriended Laura and, as we casually chatted, she mentioned she had a cute sister.  Perfect I thought as we sashayed our way back to Brian and I introduced Laura who became our friend for the evening.  About an hour later after getting to know one another a bit, Laura said to me (in front of Brian) “I want to set you up with someone.” “Who?’ I said. “Derek Jeter” she said. “He’s not my type” was my instantaneous response. Brian gasped. She said “really? Because you are completely his type.” I said “really.” And the subject was dropped for a while. Later, she was leaving she gave me her card and said “if you change your mind give me a call. Seriously. You are totally his type.”  I never called or emailed her.  Brian scolded me that night and for many nights thereafter.

In July of 2011, I picked up the New York Times and, on the front page, there was a photo of Derek Jeter and Jorge Posada hugging after Jeter hit 3,000.  I called Brian, who I hadn’t spoken to in a few years since he moved to Miami. When he answered the phone, my first sentence was “remind me why I didn’t want to go on a date with Derek Jeter?”  He emphatically stated “I have no idea. I would have gone on a date with him!” Yup I thought as I stared at the newspaper that day and as I watched him play tonight as his team begins a steep decline for the season.  My prediction after a 13 to 1 loss against the Angels tonight.  That said, perhaps I should have gone on the date just for the story….although this is a pretty good story in my opinion and, in the end, as many have said, I would have ended up with the standard token basket of crap he sends after his dates.  Good decision.  Still not my type.  Dating and Yankees games – yes this is what comes to mind. 

A few photos of NYC where spring is desperately trying to spring, interesting and  thought provoking scenes, new friends as well as, of course, Yankee stadium. Oh and the hugging picture of course!!

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Boy can I relate to this…

 

 

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New friends with a new idea…albeit not tremendously unique but they were enthusiastic…

 

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In case you are interested…

 

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I couldn’t resist…

 

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When spring doesn’t come to you, you have to go find it. At the Botanical Gardens Orchid Show….amazing…

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I gave up the F word for Lent….and I already owe $6….

I am not a particularly religious person. Truth be told I am not sure what I believe in in terms of religion per se but I do believe in some sort of higher power and that many things that happen are not merely coincidences.  That said, I got myself baptized about 10 years ago – I think because someone had told me when I was a kid that I was going to hell if I wasn’t baptized. So after years of thinking about it and researching, I walked into an Episcopalian church on the upper west side one Sunday and the female minister, Lillian, who would later become a dear friend, was quoting Bob Dillon and I thought “I can hang here”.  Lillian came to understand that, as I had disclosed when we met, I was never going to be the person who comes to church every week or even once a month and sits in the front row.

I have since moved to another part of town and haven’t found a new church.  Frankly, my favorite time to go to church is when no one is there as it’s a quiet place to think and reflect.  I also like to attend midnight mass on Christmas Eve, sometimes Easter services and Ash Wednesday administration of the ashes.  That was today.

I started giving up things for Lent about five years ago just to see if I could do without for 40 days. Things I love. Generally food related.  One year it was sugar and I was a bitch on wheels for the first week. Sugar withdrawal is rough even when one isn’t a big candy eater.  The next year it was just dessert, not all sugar. The following it was cheese. You get the gist. So this year I contemplated giving up alcohol. I really did for a day or two.  But last night I realized after I signed up for Match.com for a month to provide some entertainment as well as to throw my hat in the ring again to hopefully meet someone that I am not sure I can endure some of those blind date meetings without at least one glass of a pain killer/social lubricant. Thus, alcohol was off the table.

So tonight as I showered quickly rushing to make it to church at 6PM it came to me. As all my good ideas do come – when I am in the shower. I decided to give up saying the F word for 40 days. Yes that was it I thought to myself as I combed conditioner through my hair swiftly. I am sure there is something perhaps sacrilegious about giving up a word like this for Lent but I think the higher powers would be cool with me not cursing as much.  Could I do it I wondered? I know it is a foul word some say but I happen to love that word. It’s so versatile. It’s a verb, an adjective, a noun, an adverb (google “the F word” – it’s funny and the video will explain it) so hopefully you get it.  Anyway, I know it happens to slip out here and there and, I must add, some have found it offensive from time to time so I figured it’s worth a shot.

Knowing myself a bit, ok a lot, I decided to up the ante and committed that I would put a dollar in a jar for every F word that utters my lips for the next 40 days.  So I already owe $6 and it’s only been six hours. Ugh.  I know this makes me out to be a very foul mouthed cursing maniac which I am not. Really! But I do love this word even though it is… well… not well appreciated by everyone. I also decided to keep a daily video log of how it’s going. Perhaps some interviews. May make it into a short. We will see.

After Easter, the entire jar will be donated to a charity of my choice.  In fact, tonight I thought that it might be the perfect start for a new charity that a friend and I were discussing the other day. We will see but it seems like this may be much more difficult than sugar. Or I will just have to keep my mouth shut for 40 days…..hmmm…never gonna happen. Thank God I kept the booze!


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The Olympics to the intersection of bad judgment and holy shit this is my life…

I woke up two days ago in the middle of a seemingly incredibly realistic dream where I was about to compete as a figure skater in the Olympics (yes I grew up skating) while my fellow (much older) skater from way back when, Scott Hamilton, assured me that my make-shift outfit would work for my program. I ended that same night at a familiar intersection of bad judgment and holy shit this is my life. Not even worth inserting the “dating” story behind the bad judgment aspect but suffice it to say that being seduced by a guy with a girlfriend, now fiancée, isn’t exactly how I like to conduct my life. Close that chapter.

Thankfully, I was seeing a couple NOLA bands that night – one of my favorite hobbies – and heard Brandon Niederauer play the guitar. A 10 year old prodigy – simply incredible. Do check him out – it’s a MUST. It was a night saver. ImageImage

The last few weeks have been…well…weird. Shocker I know but a week in the SF area exploring “opportunities” that became an interesting due diligence trip also made me reevaluate Northern CA. I like the physical landscape.  A lot. I have made some lovely friends I must admit. Truly cool, nice people who are generous of mind and spirit. That said, I really do feel that SF is sort of a city of misfits of sorts. And I may fit in a bit but I also think I may now have too much of a NY edge for that town.

Then I traveled to Amsterdam for a few days for a conference. What a town. I had heard they had gotten tougher on the drug trade but I concluded it’s much more lenient so to speak when I went into a “coffee shop”, asked for a cup of tea and the response was “sure but only if you buy some cannabis.” When in Rome.  I had to take a photo of the menu.Image

Only moments before I had been offered mushrooms, liquid MDMA, liquid cocaine (I think that was what he said – I was still in shock from the shrooms which they were all admittedly on) and a few other interesting concoctions. Such great people watching – it’s a city of bikes and canals. Even at 2am people are riding around on their bicycles, no helmets and little lights on front. Super cute.ImageImageImage

Fascinating town. And interesting menu translations…flavored rolling papers and seed shops.Would love to live in a town like that….hmmmm….ImageImage

I have heard the expression “every problem is an opportunity in disguise.” I must have a lot of opportunities in front of me at this juncture because life seems to be bombarding me with one situation after another.  That said, there have been plenty of signs lately that I need to start listening to…listen to your gut…and time to start writing again.


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My drug infested smashing recollection….welcome to 2014!

I had a smashing recollection recently about how much nicer a crowd is on Ecstasy (or what they term Molly now) versus people who are tripping.  I was in New Orleans seeing one of my favorite bands and apparently the crowd was taking a lot of acid and mushrooms among other substances I presume.  I know this because both were offered to me and I declined several times.  When I was merely reading the back of a guy’s shirt his girlfriend or wife, who knows or frankly cares, came out of nowhere and literally punched me (HARD) in the face. Now I have never been hit (thankfully!) but lucky for her I was quite happy myself (not due to either of the substances mentioned above) but it was quite a shock.  I thought my cheekbone was broken.  I was actually too stunned and in too much pain to even deal with her but did find security to get an ice pack. Thank god for ice! No bruising and barely any swelling – just a bit painful to smile the next day.

The following night my friends pointed the nut job out to me and I went up and introduced myself to this should-be-Jerry-Springer-guest in her tie-dye shirt.  Incredibly, she had absolutely zero recollection of the incident.  Deadpan blank look on her face when I told her that she had punched me in the face the night before. I asked her blond friend if she remembered me  – she somberly nodded yes.  Whereas the jealous freak show had no emotion. So what could I do? I introduced myself, told her that her reaction was pretty much wayyyyy out of line.  Yup, well she thereafter offered to buy me a drink….ahhh yes New Orleans.  And that night the crowd was on “Molly” and much happier and friendlier to be around I might add.  Although I can’t believe people that age – we’ll call it an older crowd mostly late 40s, well into their 50s and up still do that shit. I felt young and people were happy so whew is about all I can say!

New Orleans is such a great town. Where else can you get Jambalaya at 4am? And live music too. And a cowboy….Image

People are generally friendly, food is fantastic, go-cups for booze….I got hit on by a 22 year old who I met on the plane, dear Evan, and then a very cute 30 year old.  Despite the punch, or in spite of it, it was good for the ego. There’s also just such great people watching…as my friend said – this guy was right up my alley…

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Inspiring signage as well…

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And in NYC we have both. He did remind me of the marketing campaigns I saw in SF…I love honesty.

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And inspiration…in all forms…

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I haven’t written since I got back from my world trip….mainly because I had to get through the holidays and because it’s tough being back in NYC. And freezing!!! It’s like a cold Middle East where you can only see the eyes of strangers on the streets as you brave the wind.

The rest of the world journey and end of 2013 was semi-uneventful but Lisbon was the perfect end to my journey. It was my last stop. Port was drank, castles seen, pastries eaten and I managed to hike about 6 castles in two days. I made friends with my wonderful cab driver, Manuel, and even ended up driving his taxi when he was too nervous in the dark. Thankfully I can drive a stick.  The trip certainly kicked my ass in shape but I must admit that by the end I was tired of packing and unpacking my ever-growing bags.  I was happy to come home, see Hugo and sleep in my own bed for a few days before facing the fam.

The last day, albeit it quite cold, provided a spectacular ending to my 60 days around the world…..

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And now into a new year, with hopefully new, wonderful experiences and people…and maybe back to SF…ImageImage


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Crashing into my human landscape….a turbo-charged trip doesn’t provide ample time for leisure reading…really it’s all about resilience and adaptability.

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This is my new mantra for the rest of my trip and life in general….The inability to actually sit and concentrate on a book or books while exploring the planet was articulated initially by Pedro, a semi-buzzed-when-we-met guy who “liked to take the mickey out of me” – something I have gotten used to while in Australia. We met at my hotel bar on one of my last nights in Perth.  Pedro wasn’t easy but he and his boss, the big G, did entertain me for a few hours.  Or berate me. A bit. For simply trying to watch part of Mandela’s funeral.  But as often happens, things start out rough and it turned around and it wasn’t long before they introduced me to my new favorite drink – a rusty nail. Two shots scotch and one shot Drambuie.  YUM!  And we were drinking together!

It is the truth – I have learned that you can’t take a trip around the world and expect to relax or sit still. There is way too much to see and do. Everywhere!  Too bad I didn’t realize this clear fact before I schlepped four books around the world. I have read maybe 20 pages of one. That said, I have accomplished a heck of a lot during my turbo-charged trip. I am seven and a half weeks into it and am in Abu Dhabi where I finally had the opportunity to slow down.  A bit.  It’s an interesting contrast of men dressed in their Dishdash and women in Abaya with Hermes handbags juxtaposed with semi-hooker, scantily clad Russian girls.  Few locals drink but they smoke a lot of cigarettes and cigars openly in bars and restaurants and drink Red bull. In order for a local to drink they have to have their own liquor license. Yet it’s seen as quite lenient for the Middle East here.  No need to even fill out any documents for immigration.  But here I am in my Abaya today at the Great Mosque in Abu Dhabi…I learned a lot about mosque clothing etiquette.

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I got so caught up in the moment I missed my tour and had to tag along on a tour with some Canadians….the guide was nice enough to provide me with some background about the air conditioned (thank god!) Mosque that was only completed in 2004. That’s what happens when you live in the moment….or at least when I do.

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I also saw a gold vending machine – ATM rather at the Emirates Palace Hotel. You can actually buy gold from the ATM. Fascinating.

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And the hotels, and buildings in general in this part of the Middle East, are enormous! My hotel….

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Or they have a cool architectural design and a LOUD Ferrari race track next to them – like this one on Yas Island. Image

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Quite a change from Australia which I now refer to as “warm Ireland”. Similar mentality combined with the same passion or propensity for booze.  Even the women get rather loud and raucous. But I enjoyed many moments in Australia. I smelled the ocean, felt the flowers, breathed the trees, shuffled though swishy white sand on many beaches and hiked up to peaks and flew without doors on a helicopter.  I have made eye contact with innumerable strangers, made friends with some and hung out with a couple for more than a day or two.  People I hope to know for a long time to come. This trip has given me faith in the human spirit again and reminded me how much beauty there is in nature and in people. There are kindred spirits out there and it has felt good to be understood by a select few. I thank them profusely and you know who you are. My saving grace in Sydney is moving to NYC in January and I am thrilled!

It’s interesting when your expectations are one and the outcome is entirely different. On many occasions I expected something  to work out one way or be a certain way and the reality was nothing I anticipated.  Sometimes worse. Often better or different with a moral to the story or a lesson to be learned.  I am still pondering some of the potential lessons and will for quite some time I imagine.

The Harbor Bridge climb in Sydney was amazing however….great views…

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The bridge from the ground at night…

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The Opera house while an incredible piece of architecture, very disappointing on the inside as it is really just several small theaters and not one grand one like LIncoln Center or Radio City in NYC.

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It hasn’t all been sunshine and roses. The other day I visited an island called Rottnest Island. The name suits and I should have listened to my gut which said to skip it but my judgment was clouded by several locals who encouraged the visit.  It was a typical day for me when all I wanted was a chill beach day and instead spent my day searching for that perfect restful place.  First I embarked on a three hour ferry ride. Thereafter, a forty-five minute wait to rent a bike followed by a one hour hilly bike ride (with fifteen pound backpack) against the wind with a fly net around my head. When I still hadn’t found the beach and it was 1PM and I had a time limit to the only ferry back at 330PM, I accosted four 75+ year old ladies and asked where the heck the beach was located and they convinced me to ditch the bike and hop on the bus with them. I tentatively agreed. At this point I was so tense that I drank the wine I had bought for said non-happening relaxing beach day out of the bottle while on the bus. I went back to bike store to get refunded my money and then was driven to a beach that was gorgeous and not windy and only a 15 minute walk from town and had a whopping 45 minutes there before I had to walk back to town to catch the hellacious freezing three hour ferry back to Perth.  Due to high winds it was extremely rocky and I thought for sure we would tip over. Was in bed at 9pm that night. Whew exhausted just writing it!  Pretty water….not worth flies, wind, heat hell….

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Thank god the beach was finally gorgeous…I think the wine helped….

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Oh and I can’t forget to mention the animal that people are wild about on Rottnest Island. it’s called a Quokka – a combo of a rat and a Kangaroo. So basically a hopping giant rat. I don’t know about you but it was not a cute combo and coming from NYC giant hopping rodents are the last things I am getting excited about….

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I saw this article the night before I went to the island and is why I didn’t swim in Perth. The shark capital of Australia….

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The following quote was shared with me last Friday during day one of my visit to Perth by my friend, Boyd. Boyd is a Kiwi I met on the street when we were both photographing kangaroo statues and I offered, and he decided, to tag along on my day to Freemantle and Cottesloe Beach.  For whatever reason that I can’t articulate, I was surprised it was a quote from Marilyn Monroe:

“I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.” Marilyn Monroe

Resilience and adaptability I think are what makes one have an easy life. Although I am fluent in both I am trying my best to conquer calm. It’s difficult navigating your own landscape and almost eight weeks alone has given me the gift of trying to sort it out without falling off a cliff.  I have fallen a few times but I have picked myself back up and am still here.

A quote I saw from Muhammad Ali – spoke to me….where I saw it was interesting – on a man’s arm outside the Sydney Opera House.

The actual quote is:  “If my mind can conceive it, and my heart can believe it – then I can achieve it.”  Something to live by….

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Throw in some wishes….from the Botanic Garden in Sydney…

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And some unconditional love….even though this fella got my friend a huge speeding ticket of $400 and three demerits on her license (UGH)- we were going all of maybe 45 mph while trying to catch up to my four legged friend! CRAZY laws in Australia!!

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Or these cuddly creatures who I will miss in OZ…

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And….the conclusion is….

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A little something for my friends getting divorced out there….couldn’t resist taking a photo.

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Last day in Manly Beach….ahhhh I do miss it. The first is from my Spit to Manly hike – gorgeous!! And the second, well my reward.

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Off for my day in Dubai. Who knows what adventures will happen….but it will involve this.

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Oh and my trip has apparently shadowed Justin Bieber’s tour – first Byron Bay, then Sydney, then Perth all sold out and lots of stories in the local papers about him and his entourage. And then, I end up having the same massage therapist come to my room in Perth. What’s the chance. I had to ask….had she disinfected her hands….it’s scary when your trip is shadowing the Biebs…

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