San Fran is bullshit. It leaves me with no other choice than to be hilarious and cynical like George: “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. I love this line because the interpretation is so subjective… if you remember the Seinfeld episode, each character had their own rendition of “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. Earnest. Angry. Jolly. Melodramatic.
I flew to San Fran (yes… I do refer to it as San Fran out of pure disrespect) just a day and a half ago. I’m not sure why I’m even here. Well… Four Seasons asked me to be. I do live, sell and stay at Four Seasons as often as possible… and apparently it’s been noticed. Plus I met a double Scorpio! And how else would my gorgeous HKG Catherine realise she’s got herself a fabulous rep! He did well. Who would have known otherwise?! (I’m sure they knew, but what-ev)
Coming to SF is like not coming to SF. What the hell does that even mean? I lived here for five years and outside of actual firm meetings… it’s like I don’t know anyone! Obviously my Kelly is exempt and truly loved. But I have never in my life experienced such aloofness as I have from the characters who pride themselves on being SFers. I have another word for you people! It begins with an F, and it’s not ‘fabulous’. I will exempt my dear Janice from the f-word as well… for nearly teaching me the difference between effect and affect, if nothing else. x
Had I not had the amazing, albeit last minute stay with my gorgeous Aussies, I’d have thrown in the towel a day ago. Thankfully chez Mill Valley had (literally) one vacancy on Tuesday! That entire family is so genuinely beautiful and quite grounding. But apparently, as my worldwide friendships expand, I’ve now got to clarify Sydney people versus Melbourne people… as they are two v different beasts. Mrs Jetsetter will have to show me firsthand! ☺️ The brilliant friend, at the heels of my business concept (several years ago), he’s struck again and unexpectedly boosted my entire focus to where it obliviously needed to be! I’ve always promulgated, as a karmic business woman of integrity, that every one of my trips proves invaluable in some form. So with Mill Valley, Kelly and Janice exempt of my SF abomination… today is a new day to enjoy margaritas in random 70 degree (or 21 to the rest of the world) weather and appreciate that yes, this trip did indeed serve a purpose or two. Despite the rest of you F’ers here in SF. Perhaps I’m a little cranky, but come on SF… let’s face it: you’re dirty, smelly, unfriendly and typically have the worst-ever weather. Let’s not try to fake beauty, cleanliness and pleasantries. Just because you have loads of organic foods and the Golden Gate does not make you beautiful.
Even though the polar vortex still lingers over my NYC, I miss it… and the water towers. I miss my lightening bus too.
I turned 40, and have had the most random client (degrading!) frustrations, suffered the second-time only illness and was only able to get 4 days of exercise banked in the last 29 days I think I’ve gone mental. Touch wood that I am officially on the mend and will be running in Central Park in no time! I’ve just read Chelsea Handler’s latest book… and though it’s a bit odd to read someone else talk randomly about vodka, lemons, men, xanax and travel, I’ve definitely concluded that I am a far better writer! With a bit less raunch…
This city leaves me with no other words than “these pretzels are making me thirsty”. But given my impending margarita lunch, I’ll go with the ‘earnest’ depiction of that classic line.
And… thank you Four Seasons. I love you!
