Even Wonder Woman has to rest. My girls’ trip came to an end this morning and with it a 1,000,000 laughs, 10,000 memories, 1000 photographs, 100 minutes of sleep, and 10 pounds gained. I want to go to rehab, yeah yeah yeah.
Picked up the girls and it has been nonstop – started with a little porch hanging and mimosas, Galatoire’s Friday mayhem, Strawberry daiquiris courtesy of Roy and Ponchatoula, nap, Ricky Graham and Herbsaint – sprinkled with dancing here and there and a requisite stop at La Vita.
But the best parts are in between – at the mirror, by the sink, over coffee. Someone said they read a study that said when asked whose company they prefer that both men and women answered with a resounding “girls” – naturally – girls just have more fun.
Ten years ago we were having a conversation about how everything was getting more and more automated. I said the only thing that would be of value would be talent because you cannot automate that. Now someone has written a book about this phenomenon – The Rise of the Creative Class by Richard Florida – where he links urban economic development to gays and rock bands and creativity. Wala! There you have it. Unfortunately, he puts New Orleans at the bottom of the list.
At a media conference yesterday a presenter said that we all think these changes are going to happen gradually when in fact big changes happen with a dramatic leap forward – I believe that is true – when something big comes along in your life it has the impact of a freight train and you either get on or if you pause, it passes you by.
Uncanny isn’t it?
Today I am open to greater and deeper relationships.
Here in New York in a king sized bed, I dream you are beside me though you are in New Orleans in a king sized bed having your own dreams, hopefully of the sea coast.
Soon the king sized bed in New Orleans will have you, me, the beast (AKA Loca), the Bean, and Rusty the cat to be, and room for one more.
Greek – there is a great restaurant around the corner. Vegetarian, there is a delicious pan Asian restaurant two blocks down. Sushi – next door. Italian – five restaurants in a row two blocks away. This is New York – the world is your oyster – any ethnic cuisine you desire, high to low, expensive to cheap, just walk out the door and turn left or right.
A friend lost his brother, another lost a friend who had two young sons, and still down the street from another friend a little boy was hit by a car. Loss, when it happens it pours out of your pores and spills into everything. And even in my moment(s) of joy, I know that just around the corner anything might be coming – but I choose to believe that it is good – all good – and that if it isn’t, I can handle it. This is from someone who has risked, loved, lost and recovered. This is from someone who is waiting for good tidings. This is from a woman who knows life is what you make of it and that with it comes death, sickness, hurt, and pain. But I hope this wave of joy continues indefinitely.
How can I translate being away for a couple of days to being in other countries for a couple of months?
Never seems to fail – the more self-righteous the more guilty – look at Spitzer – crying shame – this is a man who basically ran roughshod over my entire industry, illegitamizing (if I may invent a word here) everything we do because it seemed not right – and all the while he is stooping prostitutes and laundering money – what the hell? Why does it work out that way – the one pointing his finger turns out to have his finger in places it shouldn’t be.