the world according to sherimaven

Good morning, Thursday. It's a bit gloomy in New York today but I need to get some work done so it's a nice backdrop for being productive, or getting back in bed. Either way.

As you all know, I've made my career in advertising, and each year at this time, the big machers in my industry head to Cannes to party, drink endless summer water (aka rose), and gorge on crustacean towers and endless affirmations when awards are given for the best in advertising for the year. I've never been and suspect I may not ever go, but when you look at people's social media from the week it's hard to not feel a tinge of jealousy for all of that sun, sea, and sin. (Epic sinning during this week ps- the stuff of ad legends).

And then a pal of mine took off on a lark to Italy for the Summer because things were feeling stale in New York. Needless to say, he keeps torturing me by sending me videos from Positano and I want to go to there right now- what a lucky duck. So to suit my current mood for being somewhere Riviera-like, here is this major look from one of my favorite ladies of all time, Audrey Hepburn. Do you not love this easy, breezy look snapped while on holiday in Capri? I can't. I mean I can, but I CAN NOT. So beautiful. Classic. Perfect. Best I can do is rock my new Marc Jacobs Dr. Scholl-like objects bought on sale and dab on my neroli perfume and sip rose in my yard. That doesn't sound so bad actually, right?

Cause that's what's up this throwback Thursday on the Brooklyn Riviera. Yours, in salty air and chicness. XO

Hello, pals. So the moonlight was lovely last night and I for one am holding out hope for a sweet Summer. My posts have been pensive of late, so thought I'd break you off a little something frothy with all of that heaviness I've been feeling of late. And that comes in the form of a mini trend I've been spotting this Summer when it come to prints- everything's coming up pineapples- from shoes to dresses to accessories. 

In the window of a favorite store in my neighborhood (closed this am on my walk with Khan) was this Sea dress- and since I walk by this store every day and get some much needed walk by fashion inspiration, I think they're right on the money with what's trending.

Allow me to say this- I would never rock this trend. It's just not my thing and it reminds me of bad Florida style from yesteryear and is altogether too preppy for me. But from the looks of what's in store, this is one trend that has many feeling fruity, and maybe that sweet harvest moon has something to do with it. I'm not really the type of girl to rock a fruit print of any kind, really. Maybe cherries if I had to (can you imagine such a situation?). In general, I like to eat fruit and not wear it.  But let's get with this pineapple thing and see if it's something you find hot, even though for me, not so much. The good news? It's an accessible trend available at all price points- my money is on the Soludos smoking slipper below- the only maybe on my list when it comes to yes or no to this tropical trend.

H&M sequined Pineapple top, $17.99

Sea Pineapple print dress, on sale for $290

Tata Naka Pineapple print off the shoulder dress, $535

Soludos Pineapple smoking slipper, $65 (these are pretty darn cute I must say).

Tommy Bahama Pineapple print one piece swimsuit, $148

So will you or won't you get fruity this Summer? Maven minds want to know.  It's easy to see that many are saying yes to this one- would love to hear your thoughts, cause you already know mine.  I do think this can be cute on a certain type of guy- a tan, Surfer like one that's in on the joke and maybe went to boarding school and/or an Ivy. And that's what's up this sweet Summer trend in the tropics of Brooklyn. Yours, in hot or not. XO

Well hello, Summer. Nice to see you. I'm so happy you're here.

Today is the Summer Solstice, and I for one am really looking forward to the moonlight in my yard tonight. I even went and bought some furniture this weekend for optimal gazing- you may recall I've been looking for ways to fill my yard- so this is a great first step. It feels right.  Plus, I'm a Cancer so the moon is kind of my jam.

I'm not one for ceremony, but I do feel a strong pull to honor this particular event, where the day is longer today than any other day for the rest of the year. Think about that- it's much more than some extra hours of daylight- I'm thinking of it as more time to be in the light- to shed light on things that have felt a little dark, to be "in the light" for a few more hours today. Not a bad way to start off the season of languid nights, long evening walks, and sunshine. I don't know about you, but I could use more light. Like, really and truly.

Also, with the moon being full and poised as it is, this is the first time there has been a Full Moon on the Summer Solstice since 1967. That alone is reason to mark this day as very powerful. Because 1967 was the Summer of Love, where thousands descended on the Haight Asbury in San Francisco and loved each other and rebelled against everything from the "man" to the war to conforming to the values that society imposed on them. I have always been a bit of a hippie at heart- well not a hippie really, but someone who is more of a free spirit and a rebel. With so much funky shit happening right now, I can't think of a time in my lifetime where we could all use a little bit of patchouli infused loving, on each other, for each other, with each other.  Plus this moon is also known as the Strawberry Moon, a rare thing and named for the harvest. You don't need to be a genius to see we may be headed for a very sweet Summer. I sure hope so and I'm going to do my part to make it so. 

I may have lost you by now if you are closed off to this kind of thinking and prefer me to talk about shoes and perfume- but stay with me if you're not.  I'm just very connected to what's happening right now and it's coming in HOT. 

Yesterday I went to yoga- I go twice a week now for a while and have really been loving it. At the beginning of a yoga class you are often asked to set an intention for your practice, and mine was screaming at me loud and clear- mine was all about moving forward.  And because I focused on forward movement, I did some stuff in that class that usually makes me really uncomfortable. Like standing on my head. And a handstand. True they were done with the assistance of the wall, but still- I've always been scared of standing on my head and I was really psyched that I felt empowered to do it- because you really can't move forward without facing those fears, now can you? Fear holds us back, love moves us forward. Whether it's love of self, love for another, or a passion for making a difference. You can't do any of that without constantly moving forward, and yes- it's possible to still enjoy the present with an intention to always move forward. It's not about looking around the corner all the time- it just means there's an awareness for getting in tune with a more forward vs. backward approach. And the whole Summer of Love thing feels right to me- I've been thinking lately about how magnetic a more free thinking, freewheeling life would be- where I'm getting more creative and embracing the more Bohemian side of my soul. I'm not sure it's a choice at this point, I just think that's the way it's going to be.

Too often I get stuck in past habits and values, but think we all need to focus on moving forward to get us through this admittedly dark time. To look at the SF hippie scene now, it may feel dated and more than a little wacky. But think about it for what it was in a much bigger sense- people coming together to share, to love, and to fight against the darkness. I'm not advising you to go trip on acid or practice free love (if you want that's cool though, who am I to judge), but simply think about the values of that time, and how the moon was full then just as it will be tonight. I'm just saying take some of those good vibrations and make them yours. We really need as many as we can get, with or without flowers in your hair.

Be mindful this summer, get tapped in, and most importantly, keep moving forward. I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Cobble Hill listening to Sam Cooke and I really do believe a change is gonna come. And yea, maybe I'm wearing a vintage Indian dress. I'm honoring my inner hippie today because I'm going to create my very own Summer of Love, and you're all invited if you're cool, ya dig? Happy solstice, friends. This is one to pay attention to for sure. A friend of mine said it's important to stay away from anything that disempowers for the next 3 days. I gotta go buy some sage and get myself right. You should probably do the same if you feel like you need it. 

Cause that's what's up this long, hot day in Brooklyn. Yours, in peace, love, and moving forward. XO

Hey, people of Earth. It's a beautiful Friday here in New York and thought I'd inspire you all with some looks of a lovely lady who has really been inspiring me of late- Mia Farrow in the 60s.

I've recently hacked off my hair and now have a short do that, although not as short as Ms. Mia, is short enough to have me reassessing my Summer vibe when it comes to style.

I think short hair is very cute when it's coupled with something kind of femme- loving an a line short sheath type situation these days and think it's fresh and lovely for Summer. Here's some of my favorite shots of her of late, and with so many looks available in store to mirror this classic vibe, it's not hard to find (love this little silhouette from Brooklyn mainstay Bird for instance, who have recently started making stuff on their own label). I think short is fine after a certain age if you've got good legs, and these looks are never vulgar because they are more modest on the top.

'Tis all for now- have a look through, enjoy the wistfulness of young Mia, and get on with living by going short, long, or whatever you have to do to make it all happen. Cause that's what's up this style crush of a Friday in the borough of BK. Yours, in keeping it short and sweet. XO

Good afternoon on this gloomy day in Brooklyn. It's been a minute. And my darlings, it's not been easy of late. Much on my mind and have been feeling a bit compromised in the living life to the fullest department. I don't know- call it midlife, call it depletion, call it whatever you want. I've been riding the funk train for a few stops now and I'm sensing it's time for me to get off. How long can one blame Mercury really?

So this morning found me particularly tangled up in blue- last night I went to see "Florence and the Machine" and although I'm hardly a superfan, it's hard to ignore the force that is Ms. Florence. Clad in a cobalt blue sheer robe with high waisted briefs and bra showing through and that sick red hair, Florence is just the real deal and that's that. Plus I love barefoot chicks on stage. I can't help it.  And though seeing her was a powerful experience, I felt that nagging self-pity when you see a woman like Florence living in her full and utter truth- why can't I be half naked on a stage and be brighter than a comet? PS- that's more figurative obviously. I'm not about that, but it speaks more to the notion of owning who you are, singing it loudly, and not being afraid to show all your bits to the world. I feel sometimes we truly hide from ourselves for fear of rejection, overexposure, or vulnerability. Why do we do that? Why do I do that? Ugh, humanity. It's not easy being a human these days. Thank goodness for being barefoot. It's always been my way to get a little grounded when I feel anything but.

But with the news of Orlando still sharp as Valyrian steel (that one was for you GOTS peeps) and babies being torn apart by alligators in Disney, one has to take stock in the great things one has going. And for me, the consistent thread of greatness in my love belongs to my very first love- New York City. You all know this; I've shoved it down your throats for years. But a muse is a muse and NY, oh baby. You're the one for me. And all of the amazing people in this city that have made it well worth the very steep price of admission. I'm a lucky lady.

I had to have lunch in the city today, and really, all I wanted to do is get back under the duvet. But I dressed myself and made up myself and made myself smell nice and went into Manhattan. And I had a lovely lunch with someone I've known for years in the photography industry and we laughed and joked and talked about life and work and love. Being around him made me feel better, and sometimes New York on a gloomy day is perfectly magical for long walks as the perfect accessory for pensive moods. I walked down Tenth Avenue all the way to the West Village, running into another one of my favorite people along the way, who was more than happy to offer his advice on how to deal with the ants running rampant in my apartment. We had a laugh about that too. And all along the way on this walk I saw beautiful people of all shapes and sizes rocking mad style and brightening my day. New York- you're better than drugs. And that's the truth. New York has always taken care of me somehow, healed me, forced me to get my never ending shit together, and then rewarded me with its riches. 

As I continued my little trot downtown I ran into a pal's ex girlfriend, who was making a go of it as a chef and though struggling, seemed happy and thrilled with life because she was finally doing what she loved. And she gifted me with a vegan cardamom muffin as a token before I got on the train. Free gifts that taste good don't suck.

I took the train back to the BK and felt that familiar relief of home as I got off the train. I don't know how many of you live or have spent time in Brooklyn, but there's something about getting off the train after being in Manhattan that makes everything ok. I always exhale on habit when I get back to the 718- and even though my once affordable neighborhood is now populated by rich bohos, I still get the best vibe here and it makes me so happy. 

Oh, and as for the ants- the exterminator came and he too was a funny character- an East Village OG who moved to Park Slope for his dogs. How can you not love a guy like that? Unfortunately, he kicked me out of my apartment as he goes about his ant murder, but I found my way to my favorite local spot for coffee, where they're blasting Nas and all is well and the freelancers are drinking cold brew and crafting their dreams/mission statements/Tinder profiles. And tonight I've got plans with a friend who is always good for a laugh. Life is not so bad.

Look it's been hard lately for me, but I am so eternally grateful for all that this city perpetuates and offers me and challenges me to do. It is in so many ways my perfect muse- beautiful, massive, crazy sexy. And when things don't always work out the way I want them to, New York is there for me. Sure sometimes it's unbearably annoying and expensive and gross, but for the most part the less than stellar moments here are still better than great moments any place else. You know why? Because New York has a way of always letting you know you're alive. As for the photo, it's a pic I took on my walk today and posted on Instagram. It's such a great question rally, because I can totally picture an aggro and exasperated New Yorker asking it "ARE YOU EVEN ALIVE????" 

Yea I'm alive. Thanks for asking, random General Store in Chelsea. Sometimes it's barely breathing but because of this city that gives me so much, I'm tots alive. And grateful I get to live, breath, and sleep in this wacko den of greatness. And even as my apartment is being invaded my ants, I'm so happy that when I need to escape some toxic fumes, I can walk the streets of my favorite place and feel completely and totally alive.  And that's what's so perfecto about living here- it makes me feel alive. And in a city like New York, you may get yelled at, hit over the head, and berated for feeling otherwise. So today was a day that could have easily been all about laying in bed with hours of Bravo, but instead it turned into a pretty magical day, with very little effort and a little help from my friends and my boo, New York City. I hope you're feeling alive wherever you are, too. Cause that's what's up this lively afternoon in my town. Yours, in lifelong muses and long walks and nice little moments like this. XO

Good morning, Wednesday. It's a beautiful day here in Brooklyn and I wanted to share some inspiration and good mojo I've got working today. I spotted this sidewalk sentiment this morning and it seemed apt. 

Because as I ate dinner last night with my hubs and in laws (more on that seminal meal later this week), history, or rather, herstory was being made.

It's no secret I'm with her- I've been with her since day one and am thrilled that Hillary is now the presumptive nominee. Regardless of whether you're crying foul over super delegates and a slanted media and party, tough cookies. Hillary won- and that's the truth. And really, this is a much bigger victory for all of us- the potential of having a female POTUS should really transcend your brain this morning, ladies. This is a big fucking deal. And I'm thrilled. First, she takes California- then she takes DC. I'm so onboard. What an incredible moment for ladykind.

And then I was scrolling through Instagram this am on the way to barre when I saw so many of my gal pals went to see Beyonce last night. I saw my friends in bright yellow dresses, posting pictures of Queen Bey in all her strong glory. I love that at the same time as Hillary was clinching the nomination, Beyonce was rocking a stadium and preaching her own brand of empowerment. I love that too. I love that there's women that are strong- physically, mentally, and however they want to be. Now let's get in formation, indeed.

It's true that in my lifetime I have never had to question my options, my choices, my ability to be whoever and whatever I want to be. But many women have experienced that, and many women all over the world still do. And even though we have so much to look forward to this year, situations like the Stanford rape are proof positive of how much further we need to go- it's disgraceful and I'm grateful to see the outrage on social media from men and women alike. I feel very hopeful that with a woman in the White House, we can make more lemonade than not. I've never been prouder to be a woman than I am today.  And I'm proud of all the strong women in the ether making life better for all of us. And I can't help but wonder how the men folk are going to rise to the occasion with the potential of a former Prez becoming, literally, the First Man. I can't. Oh, yea. I can. We can. And I hope we will.

Think how far we've come from the days when it was "lovely to be a woman"- I'm quoting Bye Bye Birdie of course- when women had "one job to do" - to "pick out a boy and train him". Um ok. Next.  But other lyrics in the song ring more true now than ever:

"How lovely to be so grown-up and free!
Life's lovely when you're a woman like me!"

Life is lovely when you're a woman. And because of our endless options and role models and our ability to do whatever we want and be whoever we want, let's be proud of how far we've come, and let's continue to empower women and raise awareness and raise the bloody roof off the sucker. I think I've taken my card carrying vagina status for granted for far too long. Today, I celebrate all that we are, and all we will be. See y'all later. Going to make some lemonade. Cause that's what's up this chicks rule kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in gettin' some (and then some more).  Chicks rule. C'est tout.  XO

Good afternoon from Barcelona. I'm sitting at such a beautiful place right now in suburbios, at our second location of the day and all is well. I am so happy to have had this opportunity to see this city and for the first time in forever, be truly present in what I am doing.

In New York, I am almost always taking on more than I can handle. From hustling for work to double booking myself for everything from plans with friends to projects, I'm constantly in a race to keep up with myself. But right now, I am happy that this is very much "it"- no other projects, no distractions, and no constant stream of emails. The gift of being present is one we almost are never able to give ourselves, and it's something we often don't think about in the States. In fact, every PR statement from every ad agency like object these days is all about being "fast". Is fast always better? What the hell is wrong with slowing down? Fast food is never better for one thing. And I can think of plenty of things that are done better slowly. Like breathing. Or kissing. Or a million other things.

At the risk of sounding like a clichéd American, life may very well be better elsewhere where slow and steady is the norm. Life is short as we know, but that does not mean we should rush to do absolutely everything. In my New York life, I rush to wake up, rush to work out, rush to eat, rush to shower, rush to get to Manhattan, rush to pick up my dog, rush to anything and everything. So when in a place like Barcelona where you are forced to adapt to the slower way of doing things, it really helps to preserve this gift of presence. And I am going to try my best when I get back home to be clear and in the moment and not constantly look around the corner like a Navy seal looking for snipers. Basically, our lives in New York are like a much safer version of "The Hurt Locker"- where we are constantly dodging proverbial landmines and almost always on high alert. It's true life is full of surprises, but to have the chance to get things done in an atmosphere that feels less like a war zone has been nothing short of miraculous. It's been a while I've felt that way for sure. And it's no wonder I often feel so unclear, unintentioned, and aimless.

So if you've been following my travels on Instagram, you no doubt have noticed my joy at savoring food, watching people, and generally enjoying every moment, and in the moment. I appreciate my life in New York more than I can explain but really- the pace can exhaust and deplete and since I'm not much of a runner, my soul and body ache from that constant marathon called life. Maybe I need to walk a mile or two more often and stop trying to beat my best time. And for now, I'm just going to bask in my final days here- working with an excellent crew, seeing beautiful places, and eating gorgeous food and having that additional glass of wine. I'm sure the second I land back in the US of A, I'm going to forget all of this new magical thinking of presence- but a girl can only hope to take some of this slowing down to enjoy the moment with me. And maybe we can even share a moment or two together over a long lunch or dinner, just to rebel against the constant rush of city life. In the words of one of my favorite Stones song, "I'm gonna walk before they make me run". Look at my homie above- he's not rushing. And I think he's pretty cool with that. I don't want to get too old before I embrace a bit of the slow vibes. Because I suck at running and that's the truth. 

Cause that's what's up this very moment in Barcelona. Yours, in Stones songs, great oysters, and taking a clear and present moment. XO

Good afternoon from Barcelona. My shoot starts tomorrow and there was some last minute panic (as per usual) but now all is well and we're ready to get down.

So the other day I posted about Barcelona and now I must post and tell you- I may have fallen in love.

Barcelona for me is like someone you need to date 3 or 4 times before you really know what's up and what's special. On the surface there's charm but there's also some navigating that needs to happen but then just like that- you're smitten and that's the truth.

I've come to terms with the lack of fashion (though I made some good discoveries today- more on that later this week or next), but really for me, the number one thing to fall in love with is this- if Barcelona was a lover, you would find it extremely sexy. Because man, can it cook. And what's hotter than that?

As I've explored this city primarily on my own, the meals that I have had are nothing short of fantastic. I'm not much of a meat eater but the cured meat scene here is hot. It's absolutely delicious as is the cheese, the olives, the bread. I have sat at markets and ate magnificent grilled prawns, swimming in a sea of their own ink accompanied by perfectly grilled asparagus, with just the right amount of char and salt to accent their freshness. 

I've eaten rice that coats your belly in the very best of ways, white fish served raw and with fresh basil and the most divine Spanish olive oil, grilled hake, salmon, tartar of tuna with avocado that will make you never want to eat meat again. I've eaten burratta with fish roe and olive oil and pesto you could dream about for years to come.

I have had the best cheap red wine, and beer as an accompaniment for all this fish could not be more perfect. Last night I had some incredible veal (I don't even eat veal) with tuna prepared in the Italian style that was nothing short of remarkable.

I've sat at counters and watched people and eaten some of the most incredible food of my entire life. If food is your thing, you will fall madly in love with this city. The possibilities are endless and it's hands down a beautiful experience to eat here- I love the counters in the markets most of all- where you eat amongst the locals and settle in for inexpensive and completely divine food. 

As I near the end of my trip, I find myself not really wanting to leave, because I'm not sure how I will live without my two hour lunch filled with the freshest fish and anything else my heart desires. And that makes Barcelona an enviable city when it comes to all things food. I just adore eating here and can accept that this lover of a city may not be the most fashionable, but has a rawness that appeals to the senses- fantastic through and through. And a much beloved part of the culture.

Plus big thumbs up for all the beautiful dogs here- so many and they are adored by their owners and treated with much love and affection and respect. It's no wonder they are always walking the streets in a frenzied state- so much delicious food everywhere they must be exploding with sensory overload as am I. Food. Dogs. Two things I adore. After all, I have enough clothes. More than enough really. 

It's a gift to be able to spend enough time in a place to discover what's amazing about it. And though the architecture and charm of medieval streets is a lovely thing, this city is all about food. I can say with all honesty I have not eaten anything bad. As a New Yorker I know to not eat in places that have pictures of the menu- and the same holds true for Barcelona- there is much to discover and it's a joy and not only is it delicious, but if you play your cards right, quite healthy in that Med way. 

So with that, I start working tonight and don't stop until I get home on Saturday. Barcelona, you've really grown on me. I can overlook the tourists and the smell because you taste absolutely amazing.

Cause that's what's up this food is love kind of Wednesday in yummy Barcelona. Yours, in great meals make great memories. XO

Good morning, world.

So I'm in Barcelona and I like it just fine- some beautiful things about this city- the windy streets, the food, the architecture. I know people are madly in love with this town but since yesterday was Memorial Day in America, I felt a little homesick. I often consider myself more of an international woman, but truth is- I am completely an American girl at heart. And moreover, a New Yorker. Yes I know you don't have to fall in love with every city, but I like to. Truth is, I'm discovering this city completely solo, and I can't help thinking it would be that much better with David or a good pal. Plus, this is a big, fun nightlife town and I suspect way more fun with said beau or good pal or ten. I do have a friend who lives here so was lovely to spend an evening with her catching up on life over a wonderful meal at Bar Brutal. 

So to celebrate the holiday from here, I went to Starbucks, one of the biggest no no's for any seasoned international traveler- a slap in the face to the endless and delicious cappucinos and con leches you can get in a place like Barcelona. So to get my red, white, and blue up, I went there and ordered my favorite sugar free vanilla soy latte. You know, to honor my country and such. And to rebel against European gastronomy and superiority and bespoke, non-ironic artisanal culture. I do my part.

Then I had a work meeting in which I said not a word, because it was in full Spanish for well over an hour. I sat like a dummy and occasionally got texts from my art director who was in Madrid with the rest of the team to keep me updated. I suppose this could happen back in the States ps- but it was a funny way to spend a major American holiday, with not a single soul speaking English for over an hour. I did understand "pajamas" and "chihuahua".  

After the meeting I took a walk to what is quickly becoming a bit of a go to neighborhood for me, L'Eixample, which is kind of like Barcelona's answer to Madison Avenue. Gucci. Prada. Dolce and Gabbana. You know the drill. To be honest, I'd be hard pressed to find much to buy clothing wise in this city- it is definitely not a fashion town and that's cool, but not as much fun for a girl like me who loves to shop. There is one amazing store here called Santa Eulalia, but why would I buy spendy haute like Chloe here when I can buy it in the states for cheaper (hello Barneys sale)? I did end up going into COS, which was surprisingly not crowded, and I purchased a cute little a line dress or two- and yes, they are from Europe, but we do now have COS in New York, so a little slice of home made me feel happy somehow, and finally- a retail fix. There are some lovely home stores here too, but if you are looking to show some retail restraint, Barcelona is a fine choice. It ain't Paris. I did score my favorite Nuxe perfume for 22 euros in a pharmacy near my hotel. I am a big fan of European pharmacies- they have the best products for cheap. 

Tired from a long day of walking, trying to decipher Spanish, and constantly dodging tourists and louder than they need to be mopeds, I retreated to my hotel bar for a glass of Tempranillo. Two people sat next to me, an adorable guy and girl who were traveling together from New York- a girl with her best gay on their second big trip together, an annual thing they do even though they both have significant others. He was in HR at Barneys (not a bad best gay to have), she a pharma rep of injectable antipsychotics (yup). Immediately comfortable, we talked of everything and swapped subway stories, favorite New York restaurants, and tales from travel. I recommended a dinner spot for them and we drank a few too many together and proceeded to get a little loud, which earned us a few looks from the staff. It's funny while on vacation I almost never want to speak to Americans, but on this day, Memorial Day, I was so very grateful for the company. Plus I love New Yorkers and that's that- well everyone knows that. Even if the injectable drug lady was a Trump supporter. I got through that somehow. Her shoes were super cute and she was a major dog lover and she was quite funny. I know I should be sitting in cafes with the locals and eating grilled octopus, but last night found me happy to hang with the devil I know.  I'm kind of tapas and Gaudi'd out. Sometimes when you travel it goes by in a blink- in this case, I feel like I've been here forever.

This city is not without considerable charms of course, but in most cases it smells worse than New York and the amount of tourists is absolutely grating. Today I make my way to the Picasso Museum- personal highlights here over the weekend were the Miro Foundation, which stands on a beautiful hilltop overlooking the city and also the amazing Bruce Davidson show at the MAPFRE, which I was happy to visit upon a a tip from a dear friend. Again- another nod to New York City- Davidson's stellar photographs of New York life just past the mid 20th century and beyond. His photos of Jews on the Lower East Side, street gangs of Brooklyn, and Harlem portraits took my breath away. Because you can't take the New York out of the girl now can you? (Cue the Popeye/Peter Tosh mashup of "I am what I  am that I am"). I also loved a stroll through the Gracia neighborhood and its wonderful market and street life and cool vibe (though stinks McGee as mentioned above), but had less love for the Raval, which although a bit like Brooklyn in Barcelona, is also seedy as hell and full of cheap hookers and menacing men in doorways. Another nice neighborhood is the Born- felt ancient and old but nice and full of cafes and small shops. Oh and of course, Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's as yet unfinished church which made me feel better about the endless construction on the Brooklyn Bridge. It made a huge difference to buy a ticket in advance to this very famous and super trippy cathedral. And although it's untrue that the word "gaudy" comes from "Gaudi", the comparison is apt. I actually preferred Casa Mila somehow.

And I do think this city would be best enjoyed with company- I love to explore New York alone, but some cities are just more fun with pals, particularly places where sharing a meal is a stellar experience- the food here is MAJOR. It's fun to travel alone, but on this holiday weekend, I would have enjoyed the company as I missed my backyard BBQ, friends back home, and general American good vibes. It's true our country is in a world of shit right now, but it still smells better than Barcelona, and that's the truth. I know I have not been away long, but sometimes on a trip you get lost in a city and never want to leave, and sometimes you just miss home. I'm obviously on the latter tip, and hope you all had a fabulous Memorial Day, celebrating our fine and funky country, getting a little loud and rowdy with friends and family, and partaking in the first great weekend at the beach if that's your thing. If you need me, I'll be here in Barcelona for a few more days, trying to ignore the tourists (tons of Germans and Brits and less Americans) and finally embarking on the production I'm here to produce. Cause that's what's up this Vicky Cristina America kind of early Tuesday am in Spain. Yours, in Jimi Hendrix playing the Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock.- nothing better than that. And thank you troops, I salute you from afar. XO 

Good afternoon, Wednesday. I write as I sit on a plane half watching a chick flick after a couple of glasses of house red. Most people would think traveling to somewhere as cool as Barcelona is a great thing- and it is. But for some reason, this trip has me all fussed up. Because really, I just felt like staying put and panicked about leaving town. Plus, my insane issues with packing. A whole lifetime subscription really. Clearly I've watched "Roman Holiday" one too many times wherein I picture myself flouncing around Europe looking perfect. Flounces take up a lot of space. So do black tee shirts. I've learned this. So do all the lotions and potions one needs to achieve maximum transcon dewiness.

 One thing to know about me- I like to blow shit up. Or so that’s the story I tell myself. I like to change things, buy things, switch things, cut things. I’m always feeling like everything in my life is in need of a primo shake-up- that whatever I’m doing is somehow not good enough, not cool enough, not “enough” enough. It’s a common ailment I know. That’s why I suppose advertising exists and employs so many of us- we need more things to be leaner, faster, sexier.  We need to lose weight, gain muscle, nip and tuck. We need to buy, sell, and flip. We are culture largely obsessed with what we’re not, because supposedly from what they tell us, it’s much better someway or somewhere else.  Hey I’m someone who pushes all of this lifestyle so I’m guilty, but even worse, I’m far from immune from its lure. I can never have enough, be enough, or do enough.

 Why oh why must I be such a grass is greener type of girl?

 I’m always questioning everything I do- from my career to my hair to whether or not I’m a good wife and dog mom.  And after a month of complaining that my work was feeling dry and quiet, I get this big opp to work with some amazing people and go to Barcelona for 10 days on a good project. But meh, I’d rather stay home and go to barre class and watch “The Real Housewives” and have staring contests with Khan (I like to win). Yea, I know. I’m an absolute moron.

 It’s because whatever is going on, I find a way to think it’s not what I should be doing.  It’s an endless battle to fight this grass gazing wherein that other side looks mighty hot- I work hard on it every day but I’m someone who never appreciates what I have, and that’s got to change in both the short term and the long term.  I feel like I've been talking about gardens and grass lately, but they are apt analogies for me right now so deal.

 So ok- work is not always perfect. Marriage is not always perfect. My body is not always perfect. LIFE is almost never perfect. But what is perfect anyway when it’s measured against so many unattainable things? I realize that I’m exactly where I need to be, and that I need to be present in all of it- sure things will come up that are not to my liking or need to be tweaked, but really- I’m a lucky lady and I need to stop wishing everything that is isn’t.

 More is not always the answer. Less may not be either. But I’m going to take a cue from fairy tales and revel in the fact that more often than not, things are just right. Just depends on how you look at them I suppose.

So off I go on another adventure- another airport, another round of Instagram photos, another round of work with some talented and cool people. I think part of the reason I freaked a bit about this trip (besides being insanely hormonal) and cried in the grocery today not just because they were playing “Leather and Lace”, but that I thought about Khan and David and realized I was taking them for granted of late as I moped around the house, and leaving them was harder than I expected this time, albeit for only 10 days. It made me realize how very much I have at home, but also that I need to be mindful that what I’m about to experience should be pretty kick ass too. I just needed to share that with all of my peoples out there who are grass is greener types. Just be present in your reality and that grass in your own yard should be just fine. Oh and ps- being cool with your life does not mean you’re settling- it just means you’re being present and not looking for something else every chance you get. Some of you enlightened types are like “duh” right now, but for the rest of us schmucks, we need a little reminder from time to time. A psychic type once told me it's important for me to put my bare feet into the grass from time to time and get a little grounded. I'm gonna do that, and enjoy exactly where I am. Or at least I'm gonna try. Maybe if I can get that "just right" thing down my bag won't be perpetually overweight when I check it. (clearly there's something to too much baggage and the other stuff I was riffing about).

Cause that’s what’s up this in-flight philosophy kind of Wednesday in Newark. Yours, from the bright side and green enough grass. XO