Daily Cookie

August 18, 2008, 12:16 am
Filed under: Fierce

 This past Friday was my friend Stephanie’s (2nd from the left) birthday – to refresh your memories, Steph was my room mate at BC, you met her in my post “Squirt & Flirt.”   I sent her a funny card and email and have been thinking about her and how much fun we had that spontaneous night in June in NYC.  And this morning when I logged into my Facebook account, I saw another old friend/room mate.  The three of us and three others shared alot more than a beach blanket in our hey day.

This photo was taken somewhere between 10 – 14 years ago – who really knows.  I know it could not be more than that because we were all at my Cape house, but feel like it was a few years into my marriage and our summers here, so I am going with ten years ago.  It sort of fits my decade theme from my last post too.  So about ten years ago, these girls and their boyfriends or husbands all visited us for a reunion weekend.

Back to the bikini clad babes in the above shot.  One of us girls is not like the other.  Flo must not have received the “wear your turquoise blue bikini” memo. That was just like our Florencia from Argentina, or as I affectionately called her, Flobee Gobbee.  Although some of the girls you may not recognize, this 5 x 7 photo is truly famous here on Cape Cod.  It resides in a beach themed frame (how appropos dont you think?) in the bathroom of our pool house.  On top of the toilet to be exact so every time anyone goes in to pee (guys definitely have the operational advantage here) they get a private viewing.  Anytime a “new” guy comes across the photo, they always exit the pool house with the photo in hand and a shit eating grin asking various questions.  It was even kidnapped a few years back by one of the Farrelly brothers.  He thought it would be better served in his possession and mentioned something about making us all movie stars.  Tried sneaking out with it under his shirt a few times.  

Another male houseguest of ours also thought he should “have” the photo or at least one or two of the girls in the photo.  The Rescue Me boys all stayed here one weekend and the probie drew the short straw (or as he saw it a place of his own) and landed in the cabana.  I actually found him the next morning sound asleep with the photo on the table next to the bed.  He had moved it from the bathroom to the side table.  I did not dare ask why and simply put it away.

Cut to last weekend….. we had friends over for an al fresco dinner.  Eating outside means using the pool house bathroom – it is geographically convenient.  Walshy, who coincidentally also went to BC, came out holding the prized photo.  I think he was wondering where we all were when he was at Boston College.  

The stars in order left to right are as follows: Renee, Stephanie, Kim, Florencia and yours truly.  There are two missing, Andrea and Kelli, and that was my college posse.  The majority of those four years, we lived, learned, loved and grew up under one roof.  Now that was a reality show.

Although these girls are still in my life, I do not get the chance to spend as much time with them as I would like.  I don’t know why.  Families, careers, no excuses, it is what it is.  I do know that when I do get to see them and spend quality time catching up, it is almost like no time has passed at all. Sure there are a bunch of monkeys running around, our left hands are heavier, we have earned various titles and accolades and have a lot more spendable incomes and different zip codes. But we are the same crew.

While Cape Cod may never be the same again, this is an open invitation to everyone pictured above.  Too much time has passed and we need another reunion.  Hey. Wait. I’m the event planner.

Summer 2009. Save the date.  “Beach Blanket” photo redux.

June 22, 2008, 9:41 pm
Filed under: Fierce

Yesterday was the official start to summer.  I spent the weekend on the Cape doing some of my favorite things, went for a run, sat in the sun, played tennis, hosted a dinner party at our summer home, enjoyed a fun, belated Father’s Day breakfast at the Farm Cafe with my Mom and Dad and took some time to stop and smell (and snip) my peonies.

This year, we almost missed out on these beauties, but thanks to my Dad, we still have some left in the garden to enjoy.  Due to all kinds of reasons, we got a late start this year opening up the house.  Yes, I realize I blogged a couple of weeks back about this process, but failed to mention that some of the tasks were TBD (hey its my blog and my prerogative).  And we missed an entire weekend here due to other family and friend commitments.  So I asked my dear old Dad to swing by our house to stake my peonies before they became too top heavy and fell to the ground.  Of course he obliged.

What I also failed to do was buy the stakes and ties he needed to do the proper staking.  Sorry Dad.  End result he and my Mom were at my house for over two and a half hours making due (they found old branches in my yard and cable ties in my garage).  Parents are very resourceful aren’t they?  And voila!  My pink and white peonies made it another year.

Hey Dad – glad to have spent today with you and thanks for stopping to stake the peonies!



June 15, 2008, 2:26 pm
Filed under: Fierce, Friends

Last week I had just checked into my mid-town home away from home, when I ran into a very dear and special friend. . .by complete chance. We were college roommates for 3 years at Boston College.  Our other friends and families nicknamed the two of us, Squirt & Flirt.

Ahhh, the good old days.  She is a tall blond with a fierce figure, has a bubbly personality to match and a passion for the finer things in life.   She drove a convertible Mustang in school, sported only designer duds and used to buy filet mignon at the grocery store to cook for us for dinner.  Combine this somewhat southern girlie girl from Richmond with me, and well, let’s just say we had our fair share of fun.    

Skip to last week.  As I mentioned, I had just checked in and was enjoying the attention from the bellmen, now my pals.  But wait, they were all friendly with another guest.  And they knew her by name too.  Who could this “intruder” be and more importantly, was she worthy? I turned around to see this stunner walking towards me and the first thing I noticed was the outfit (shocker).    That day it was bloody hot in NYC.  She had on the cutest white shift dress and black and white flip flops.  Mind you, the dress was Gucci and the flips, Louis Vuitton.  Wait a minute, I know this girl.  As she approached, the biggest smile come over my face and I knew it was Steph.  Hugs, kisses, a few “oh my Gods” and “you look sooooo good” happened next for about 5 minutes.  The bellmen were amazed that we were college roomies and immediately started drawing all sorts of conclusions (some of course were dead on, some we will leave up to the imagination). 

I hadn’t seen Stephanie in about 4 years.  Last time she was in Boston we got together for dinner, but we have not been the best at keeping in touch.  She lives in California and rarely gets back east.  I visited her once in LA, but do not get out to the west coast that much anymore.  And the last time we met up, she was telling me all about her neighbor who she had a slight crush on.  Steph never had a slight crush.  She fell fast and hard every time. Turns out this time, she met her Mr. Big.  She married the neighbor last year in a very private ceremony at Parrot Cay.  

So now a number of years later (will never tell you how many) the two of us are together again in the Big Apple.  We were both in on business, but managed to find some quality time to catch up. It is so refreshing to see my friends happy and to realize that besides a few years, a couple of husbands, career responsibilities and a pair of new boobs, not much has changed since we were sashaying around the campus of BC. 

Steph came with me the next day to an appointment, we had lunch at Pastis and then shared a taxi further downtown for our meetings.  We hugged, kissed, said a few more “you look amazing and haven’t changed a bits,” and then said good bye.  This time, I truly hope we make an effort to keep in touch and stay a part of each others lives.  

The power of emails, cell phones and all those American Express miles can only help.      

p.s. – she is almost two inches taller, so that made me Squirt and her, Flirt!  

June 2, 2008, 7:25 pm
Filed under: Events, Fashion, Fierce

Yes, I was one of the lovely ladies who wrangled their BFFs, dressed in true Carrie Bradshaw fashion and stepped out in heels to see the movie during its opening weekend. I am a fan and give it a two manicured thumbs up.

Girl power ruled and squashed Indiana Jones. I mean we love crystals and skulls, but usually adorned on our flip flops or on a McQueen head scarf. And finally a romantic comedy beat an action flick.  

As girly girls, our pulse quickens with a different type of action. Give us catfights over swordfights, snakeskin shoes over angry snakes, hip restaurants over dark caves, fast cars over flying saucers, man-eaters over man-eating ants, and a fairy tale over an adventure. In other words, give us a great love story.

The thrill of the chase has an entirely different meaning for us. Scoring your favorite shoes at the Bergdorf’s sale, getting a rezzy at 10AK or the Waverly Inn, and reeling in the perfect guy; now that’s a catch!

The movie did not disappoint. It was full of great girly action. Fashion, gossip, sincerity, careers, feelings, shopping, fantasy, family, dining, design, cosmos, A list parties, life changing moments, getting older and love. Sounds like an extreme list, but with good judgment and priorities, it can be easily balanced. 

SATC will allow you to be entertained and spend quality time with your girlfriends, who you have known longer than the time span between this Jones flick and the last (almost two decades).  After the movie, go out for a cosmo or two and discuss and analyze it all: the fashion – what you craved and what you would not be caught dead in, the issues – the similarities and the differences, and most importantly the guys.  The bad boys that made us crazy, the sweet ones our Moms loved, the ones that got away or the keepers that you love forever.  

But the message of the movie is a lot more than all of the above.  It is a page we should all tear out of Carrie’s latest book.  

Make time for friends and love.


February 26, 2008, 3:58 pm
Filed under: Fierce, Sanity

I woke up Saturday morning with a severe case of the winter blues.  I felt it in my bones and it was visible on my face.  I told Mike in a perfect world I would be getting a massage and a facial today.  And he replied, well what is stopping you?  You do not need to tell me twice. . .and in an instant I scurried across the room in my cozy leopard slippers to grab my phone.

The long hours at work, the constant travel, the lousy weather and the lack of time to take care of myself was taking its toll on me physically and mentally.  The spa was exactly what I needed.

I checked in at 12:45PM and by 12:50PM I was in a warm robe, sipping green tea and oblivious to anything else but me.  I don’t think I have done this, I mean truly done this, in ages.  Sure I run from maintenance appointment to appointment, but it is always a quick half hour here or squeezing in a mani before my next flight.   At the very best, I can get a polish while I process, but lately that is the extent of my me time.  Having consecutive appointments is a true luxury. 

I listened to my facial options and decided the Ultra Luxe was the one for me.  This one promised to plump up my cells, scrub away the dead skin, moisturize to the max and give me that youthful glow.  Truthfully, she did not even need to explain all the benefits, she had me on the first two words, ultra luxe.  Sold.      

For the next hour my face, chest and neck took over my entire body.  We started with the yummy Sonya Dakar Nourishing Cleanser (I have used it for a few months now and am a huge fan.  Get it – it smells like grapefruit and is a little pump of heaven every morning), then a toner, and enzyme peel (a bit tingly but I convinced myself this is how I knew it was working).  Next came the enzyme mask and the part of the facial that I would go back for every day, the head massage.  You got to love when someone plays with your hair.  And she pulled it too – no wussy hair tickles here. My roomies and I used to take turns playing with each others hair while watching TV (oops sorry Mom I mean while studying) at college.  We would take turns sitting behind each other and make a hair tickle train.  Sorry guys, nothing sensual about it, well at least not for us. 

Anyway back to my ultra luxe facial.  There was no extraction with this one.  Personally, I am a fan of “gentle extraction” at times, but mostly in the summer when your pores tend to get a bit clogged with sunscreen.  This time it was not wanted or needed.  We ended with a series of moisturizers – vitamin C cell boosters,  cell plumping serums, cell firming serums and cell renewing serums.  Eyes, face, neck and chest  – check. 

When I finally climbed off the bed and back into my clothes and snow boots, I noticed that my skin was truly glowing.  I did not need to put a stitch of make up on and walked home feeling like a new person.

Do yourselves a favor and hit the spa ladies.  It does wonders for the face and the soul. 

Ultra Luxe because we are worth it. 

Adaptable Diva
September 13, 2007, 7:23 pm
Filed under: Fierce

Yesterday two very different people told me that I was adaptable.  I say they are very different mainly because one is a boy and the other a girl, but both their respective male and female perspectives managed to comment on my adaptability.  I just had to smile.


The first comment came at lunch.  I had just finished a production and press walk thru on 50th Street and had about 45 minutes to grab lunch with another client to review a proposal we are drafting together to pitch a certain singer who recently rocked Fashion Rocks with Mary J. Blige (this in my opinion was the best act of the night). 

Anyhow, I arrived a few minutes late and had to pee (lots of coffee and water that morning on the train).  We didn’t have a lot of time so I just asked him to order for me.  Our food arrived and it was just okay.  I said it was fine and that’s when he commented on my adaptability.  Not in those exact words, but that was the jist.  He actually said he would have never believed that I was the type of girl who he thought enjoyed fine food and wine but could also probably have a great time drinking beer in some dark dive bar with no widows.  Um excuse me, do I look like the dive bar type?  And especially not yesterday – I was rocking new wide leg jeans, a Marni cami, vest and Dries Van Noten cashmere cardigan.  Oh and my gold Prada wedges.  Think before you speak Cooks he is a client.  And he only being nice and implying that I didn’t like what he ordered, but did not complain.  He is lucky he is the client.  My poor husband would have had an earful. 

I smiled and then had to tell him (very politely) that first of all I don’t drink beer, and second, I truly despise dark dive bars with no windows.  The idea of them scares me mainly because I can’t stand the stench of stale beer and smoke, the stickiness of the floor and the trapped feeling that comes over me when there is only one exit and no windows.  My claustrophobia has gotten worse as I get older. But as you can learn from my above description I have visited a few dive bars in my day.  I lived across the street from Mary Ann’s my senior year at Boston College. . .enough said.  I explained all of this to him too.  More info than he bargained for I am sure.  But he laughed and I did too.  So glad the girlie girl in me is in tact. And he now believes that I am adaptable by choice. 

The second comment came last night from a dear friend of mine.  We have not seen each other in a while and I was determined to see her.  I was also determined to see another super friend of mine, my stylist.  I stayed in the city last night just to see him.  I have been calling him now for days – actually since I wrote my last blog complaining about the fact that I needed a haircut desperately.  I am a girl of my word.  Sure enough my schedule this week was all based around my hair and I was not going to quit or go home until I got my appointment.     I called Dominick for days on his cell.  If I couldn’t get him I would text.  I also tried calling the salon a number of times but their phones do not work.  Instant frustration.  And for Christ sake what capable salon can function without a phone?  I was beside myself.  Turns out he was stuck in California and in a plane from 6AM – 8PM.  When he finally got cell service back, he returned to about 10 crazy messages from me (not including the texts) and also some from his salon.  Managed to finally get through and was told he has no time for you.  I lost it on them both.  And then there are the times that diva in me roars its pretty, but in dire need of a shaping, head.

“Honey I have been away and now I am doing the shows, just come in after 6 and I will squeeze you in.  I always do.”  This was the message that changed my attitude.  It is Fashion Week and he is in demand.  Yet still will make time for me. 

He sang this next one.  “Sweets I am running about 20, well maybe 40 minutes late.  Okay, don’t call the salon the phones don’t work.  Oh and I left my cell at home. Okay can’t wait to see you.  Love ya.” This was the message I heard in a taxi on my way to my appointment.  I have been waiting 11 weeks to get my haircut, what is 40 minutes more.  Plus I am downtown and the shops are still open.  I did what any girl would do, I went shopping.  And may I add, I scored! 

Sarah met me at the salon and we went to dinner at Paradou.  It’s a sweet wine bar and bistro in the area that is very yum and attracts some hipsters, but not as crowded as some of the other hot spots.  It was the perfect atmosphere to catch up with a friend and show off a great cut.  We talked about boys, clothes, work and hair.  She too now goes to Dominick and appreciated my story.  She made her adaptability comment to me when I showed her my treasures I found on my “suddenly I have some time on my hands spur of the moment shopping spree.”

To her, I am now known as an “adaptable diva.” I like this name and I love my haircut.  On my way home now to sport my new do.



August 9, 2007, 10:50 am
Filed under: Fierce

photo_022407_001.jpgMeet Grover.

Grover is a Brussels Griffon Terrier and the other man in my life.  I say man and not boy because he turned two this summer.  I have caught myself saying this to him.  I try to rationalize with this little furry creature.  As you can probably tell from his glamour shot, he usually wins and has the last word.  This 10 pound, four legged stud has me completely wrapped around his paw.

Grover is our second Brussels.  Our first dog, Griffin, was an absolute delight.  He passed two summers ago.  I did not want another dog but Grover entered my life anyway.  And he was an absolute terror.  I threatened to send him back to Seattle almost on a daily basis.  Again trying to rationalize with a dog.  This little monkey would not do anything.  He had to be naked.  Refused to wear a hoodie or sweatshirt (and I bought him the cutest clothes at Louis) walk on a leash or wear a collar.  In fact, when I did try and dress him or simply take him out for a walk, he turned into a sphinx.  Froze. And he could stay like that for hours.  The willpower on this mutt was insane.  By the way he is a certainly not a mutt.  And the price tag of this puppy skyrocketed after his tenth cousin starred in As Good As It Gets

Cut to two years later. . . not much has changed (well except for the fact that I am completely in love).  Puppy bootcamp for a month and a half and to the tune of about $2K did just about nothing.  He does wear a collar  and walk on a leash, but it’s still a struggle.   Which is why I chose to write about him today.  Yesterday was one of those days I tried to rationalize with him about everything.  

He was booked for a shampoo, haircut, mani and pedi.  We had a birthay party to go to last night and he had to be fierce.  I swear this thing wakes up and immediatey senses what’s going on.   He refused to do his pee on the pee pee pad (huge fan especially when its rainy) or eat his breakfast.  So what do I do, tell him if he’s not good he will not come with me to the party.  Yeah right, like he understood that one.   Then we got in the car which he loves.  Two blocks into our route and he started to cry. Of course he did, he still had to do his business.  Its pouring rain and I am wearing white jeans.  “Grover mom is wearing white today, I told you to pee before we got in the car.” 

I now have to find a covered area where I can park and walk him.  We do and I pace up and down under some scaffolding for about 15 minutes.  He smells the same 3 trees about 12 times, pees on each (he is 10 pounds how much pee can be in him?) and then finally decides to poop.  He was very proud.  I had no treats.  He refused to get back in the car. “Grover, good dogs are not late for their mani/pedis.”  That didn’t work either.

I had to carry him back to the car.  White jeans now looked a bit muddy and my black top needed a lint brush.  Good thing I stash one in the car (event producers are always prepared).   As soon as the car turned onto the street of his stylist, he started to cry again.  I told him he was going to have a great time at the spa and would get to hang with some of his friends.  That always works on me.

Which he may not have understood at the time but as soon as he saw and sniffed some friends, he was fine. I spent the rest of my day working at the office and rationalizing with a whole different breed.  My clients.