Uh-oh, my snob is showing!

When I was a child, the kids that didn't like me sometimes referred to me as "stuck-up". Or a "know-it-all". Among other names that aren't related to this post.

I don't think it bothered me that much. First, because I knew (and my friends knew) that I wasn't stuck up. In fact, I was just as insecure as the next kid, probably more. I was just really, really good at hiding it. And as far as the "know it all" comment, that confused me. I mean, I knew I didn't know everything- but wouldn't it be great if I did? Was that really an insult? I even went as far as saying "thank you" once to a boy when he called me that.

OK...maybe even my responses to the names that I was called make me sound like a bit of a snob.

Anyway, as an adult, there are times when I find myself feeling like, and acting like, a bit of a snob. The other night was one of those times.

Let me preface this by saying that I am generally considered outgoing. Friendly even. I can be engaging, and sometimes I can be the type of person that keeps the conversation lively and fun with a group of people. In social groups, I often become the leader. The one who makes the plans, the one that sets the tone, and gets the entertainment going.

And other times-

Not.

Sometimes in social situations I can be so uncomfortable, so awkward, so unsure of what to say, how to act, where to stand, what to do with my hands, that I just want to leave. And I can never predict when this will happen. Which means I can be invited to a certain event and not know if "fun-loving extrovert Aileen" will show up, or if "uncomfortable and awkward Aileen" will make an appearance. Add to that the fact that I generally don't drink alcohol, and the odds become even closer to 50-50.

So when Awkward Aileen shows up, what I usually try to do is search out someone that looks approachable and start talking to them. Any guides on this sort of thing usually recommend that you look for odd numbers of people and join their group. I try this- sometimes it's difficult because they are often standing in a closed circle.

This leads to problem #1 for me. I'm not a big fan of small talk. I can do it. I'm even pretty good at it (I'm a master at professional networking). I simply don't enjoy it. So it's an effort to be engaged in the exchange. To not only listen, but to care. Which is where I find my snob showing up.

The other night I was at a dinner with twenty women. All were around my age, various backgrounds, professions, family circumstances etc. And I found myself unable to connect with any of them. We were seated at one big table, and I was careful about my seat selection. I sat almost at the center of the table, so I could have the opportunity to talk with several people and maybe get to the point of actual meaningful conversation.

It turns out I ended up on the "conversation borderline". The person to the left of me was engaged in exhanges with several people to her left. The person to the right of me was leaning far forward and facing right, talking to the people to her right. (So not only couldn't I engage in that conversation without perhaps tapping her on the shoulder, but I couldn't see around her either.) So I attempted to interject a few times with the group at the left. And I made a few exchanges with the people across the table from me (it was a very wide table, which made it difficult.) The hostess was sitting across from me and noticed my struggle- to her credit she attempted to engage me in conversations several times. But her distance and the distance of the rest of her "conversation group" made it tough to sustain.

If I really wanted to bust through this obstacle, I'm sure I could have. But here's my next confession: I didn't particularly want to. Here's why:

The woman sitting directly to my right was dominating her conversation. Extremely loudly. Not funny, entertaining, engaging loud. Just obnoxious, probably had too much wine, loud. So I found myself not wanting to join her conversation.

The conversation group to my left was talking about business (a slightly dull subject, but one I enjoy.) Again, the conversation was being dominated by this seemingly interesting, attractive, woman. She was talking about starting her own business (hey! common ground!)...but she was absolutely the only one talking, and didn't really give anyone a chance to contribute. If you were to listen to her, it was like she was giving a lesson to all those around her: First I did this, then I learned this, then I was shocked when this happened...blah blah blah. I figured she was probably just a bit self-centered and so I smiled and nodded and waited for the subject to change.

So then she started talking about The Secret. She saw the DVDs. I read the book, but never got the chance to tell her. Her instruction session proceeded: it teaches you about this, and focuses on that, and this is what happened in my life when I started following it....blah blah blah.

By the end of the evening, I didn't feel so great about myself. I am at a point in my life where I am looking for meaningful connections. Which means seizing opportunities. I had pretty much written off these people and did not have the energy, or desire to connect with them. I wasn't sure if I was shy, socially awkward, or simply being a snob. None of those options is very appealing. And yet, when I think back to the evening, I'm not sure what I would have or could have done differently.

So I'm curious- am I the only one that faces this dilemma? What do other people do to engage themselves at events like this?

The Mother in Me.

I had a realization yesterday.

I am a mother.

I just don't have any children.

I was lucky enough to spend the afternoon with a friend of mine that's a new mom. It was great to see her and absolutely wonderful to meet the new baby.

Getting a "baby fix" is such a centering, grounding experience for me. Holding them, comforting them is so relaxing, such a stress reliever. My friend was surprised when I said this- she says she doesn't feel relaxed very often. I'm guessing it's because I have the luxury of enjoying the baby, enjoying the moment, before handing him back to his mom. The one who is ultimately responsible for his life, his well being.

So how can I possibly consider myself a mother without having any children of my own? Perhaps it's more accurate to say I am lucky enough to have a mother's instinct. I don't think I was born with it. I think it's something my mother taught me from a very young age. I know a lot about babies and children. I feel like I understand them. I know how to take care of them. I grew up surrounded by babies: younger siblings, cousins, kids I babysat.

As I sat with my friend's baby, successfully comforting him, I felt like it's something I'm very good at. It wasn't a "oh how sad, I won't have kids" moment... It was more like a "I am so lucky I have this skill" moment. I love babies and babies love me- how beautiful is that?

Finding Your Joy

I'm on my way to reconnecting with the things that brought me joy when I was younger. I went to a dance class yesterday. For the first time in over 15 years. Seriously.

I knew I was on the right track when I went to the dancewear store to buy a pair of jazz shoes. (I couldn't believe I couldn't find my old dance shoes! Did I really throw them away?) Anyway, walking in that store with all the dance paraphernalia was very fun and exciting for me. I also got a glimpse of what I would be like if I had a daughter. (It would be soooo hard for me not to be a "show biz" mom! I saw those little tutus and couldn't help but think of my imaginary ballerina daughter!)

Anyway, arriving at the dance studio felt a little like coming home. I went to the aptly named Joy of Motion. You can see inside the various dance studios when you arrive- there was a ballet class and a belly dancing class going on when I arrived.

Which class did I choose for my first foray back into the dancing world?

Hip Hop.

Hehe! I crack up thinking about it!

I actually took hip hop classes when I lived in Manhattan. (Yes- hip hop is that old.) But hip hop has changed quite a bit in fifteen years. It's rougher, more street-like. The type I remember was more "In Living Color fly-girl style"...

I was nervous and intimidated about doing the class. I was nervous about being clumsy. Being too old. Looking foolish. Not having the stamina to make it through the entire class.

But I ignored my fear and went for it anyway.

Yes, I was probably the oldest person in the room. But I didn't feel like it. The class instantly felt so familiar. And so fun. I was a little slower at picking up the choreography than I was in the past, but I could feel it coming together. I held my own amongst the other dancers. I even made it through the entire class (though I felt a little light headed the last 5 minutes or so.)

Now to be fair, this class was a beginner class. My memory of beginner classes was still pretty intense, but then I realized that I was recalling Broadway Dance Center in Manhattan. In their beginner classes, you are still surrounded by people that are very serious about dancing. They are actresses, singers, musical theater performers etc. Here, at this particular studio, it seemed there were more people that were in the class simply for the joy of it. Or because it's more fun than a step class. So it was easy to feel like I belonged. And to focus on the pure joy.

I've also looked up Broadway Dance Center's class schedule to see if I'd like to try one of their classes next time I'm in town. I was so surprised to see that my former jazz/hip hop teacher is still there! I think I'll pop into one of her classes.

So I have a couple questions for you-

What brought you joy when you are younger that you no longer do for some reason?

and

Does anyone know a good voice coach in the DC metro area?

A Former Performer

I sometimes use the phrase "former actress" when I'm listing ways to describe myself.

A former performer.

I think that's an oxymoron.

Once a performer, always a performer. Yes, some performers think of themselves as artists. I never really did. Even when I was knee deep in studying the craft of acting (and trust me, it becomes very serious when you are studying it), and mastering the use of my voice, and getting in touch with my dancing and movement ability...I still knew that it was a form of expression for me- and I got the biggest kick out of just the performing aspect of it. The audience.

My first taste of performing was my first dance recital when I was four. My parents knew I was a bit of a "ham" when I went back onstage for an encore, by myself, even though the dance was over.

When I got a little older, I started singing for audiences. I remember my first solo was singing "Proud Mary", and I thought that was cool because it was my Dad's favorite song.

I didn't discover acting until high school. And it wasn't until my junior year of college that I was brave enough to change my major to "Theatre". I actually have a Bachelor of Science degree in Acting. Go figure.

Yes, I did the struggling actress thing for awhile, and there are probably some good stories there, but not for today. Today I want to talk about the dormant performer. The performer in me has been pretty dormant for at least the last decade or so. Yeah, there were times when it snuck out a bit here and there- I've managed to make a reputation for myself as a trainer, people seem to comment on my stage presence (though they usually don't know it's called that).
But in general, I've had no desire to sing, dance, or act in front of anyone.

But being a performer is part of my identity, and it's always been a part of me, whether it's active or dormant. Lately, over the last couple years, I've started to get a bit of the "bug" again. The only way I can describe it is that it is similar to lust. You know how you feel when you are feeling a bit randy and you see someone you are incredibly attracted to? That's how I've been feeling when I see a really good performance. It happens when I watch the silly yet fun show "So You Think You can Dance", it happened last week when I watched and listened to Cyndi Lauper sing.

Maybe it's called performance envy. Or performance lust.

Whatever it is, I gotta get me some of that.

Cougar Update

I am sorry to report that my blog traffic has recently increased tremendously.

I am being flooded with google searches for "cougars vs. kittens".

Should I be surprised?

Cougars vs. Kittens

Really? Seriously? Is this what the creators of reality TV have come up with?

For those of you that haven't seen the commercials, the latest dating reality tv show is called "Age of Love". Supposedly to determine if "age really matters". The premise is that a group of single 40-something women compete against a group of 20-something women for the affections of a 30 year old hunk.

And the tag line they keep repeating: "It's the kittens vs. the cougars" with the sound of a cat roaring ferociously.

My response when I saw this? "Oh f#@k." Total disappointment.

I'm not necessarily offended by this ridiculous exploitation of society's preference for youth, beauty etc. I'm offended at the idea of pitting women against each other (once again) presumably for the love of a man. And the implications that 40-something women and 20-something women should somehow be competitors. Vicious competitors.

I realize I only represent the opinion of one 40 year old, but in my opinion it would be a rare occurrence that I would find a 30 year old man (hunk or not) that is a good match for me. And if that man (or any man) was more attracted to a 20-something, chances are he isn't the kind of man I'd connect with. It also stands to reason that the men I am attracted to, probably would not be of interest to the young kittens either. So we aren't exactly competing in the same dating pool.

That said, I'm also constantly looking for opportunities where women can be more supportive of each other. I have seen the wonderful bond and connection that can occur between women. I hate our "catty" stereotypes and I've always felt there'd be less infidelity if we women would stick together and not allow it to happen. But I digress.

I prefer to look at how the Cougars and the Kittens can help each other. In various aspects of life. But for the sake if this show's theme, let's just stick with the theme of romance.

What can we Cougars learn from our young Kitten counterparts?

1. Fun.

Yes, we get more sensible as we get older. But Kittens are generally good at being social and having a good time. Taking risks.

2. Fashion.

No, I'm not suggesting we dress like a 20 year old. I'm only suggesting that Kittens can help us stay more youthful in our fashion choices and avoid becoming matronly.

3. Possibility.

Kittens are open to possibilities. They can be hopeful and romantic. They can casually date multiple people just for the fun of it. Because you never know.


And what can our Kitten sisters learn from us Cougars?

1. Body image.

Yes. We love our bodies. And our sex shows it. If I had my twenty something body again...I'd be dangerous. So learn to love what you've got.

2. Confidence.

We're selective. Very selective. Because we can be. We have learned that we don't die if we're not married by a certain age. And that realization is liberating.

3. Girlfriends.

We have learned about the intensely unique and priceless value of our friendships. We no longer neglect them when a man comes along. We know better. Many of our emotional needs are met by the women in our lives, not the men.


So to all you Kittens and Cougars out there- what else do you think we can learn from each other? (And any Wolf or ummm, male perspective is welcome as well.)

Lady unLuck

I planned the most amazing girls weekend trip this weekend. First, I bought four tickets to the True Colors concert featuring Cyndi Lauper, Deborah Harry (of Blondie fame), Erasure, the Dresden Dolls and more. A fund-raising benefit for the Human Rights Campaign. What better musical theme for a girls weekend than the artist that made "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" famous?

The concert was being held at the Borgata Resort and Casino at Atlantic City. I've heard tremendous things about this resort and its spa. So I reserved a room for two nights with the intent of a weekend of fun, music, spa treatments, a touch of gambling and a lot of female bonding.

Sounds fantastic right?

I searched and searched and found one friend that shared my idea of fun in this case.

So my stream of "unluck" began in regards to this particular weekend adventure. As the weekend began, a series of small details started to go wrong and I could feel the stress sneak up on me. Why was I being stressed out? Money. Since the trip was now going to cost me a lot more than I originally planned, I decided that it had to be an absolutely amazing trip.

And as long as my thinking went that way, it wasn't.

Early on during the concert, I started writing a blog post in my mind. Itemizing the issues that were not going as planned. Somewhere between being impressed with Deborah Harry's energy and Cyndi Lauper's astonishing voice, I erased that list from my mind. I made a conscious decision to enjoy the moment. The music was fun- and we were able to get pretty close to the stage. I had heard of Erasure, couldn't name their songs, but as soon as I heard them- realized I knew the words to some of their biggest hits. (Anyone remember this one or this one?) :)

I didn't experience a complete attitude adjustment right away. After the concert, I lost $90 in blackjack, and was frustrated with the fact that I didn't understand the slot machines. I think the loud noise and flashing lights make it difficult to focus, and when I'm not focused, I can get frustrated. But as I recognized this fact, I was able to "relax" a little bit into the confusion.

The next day was perfect. Spa treatments, relaxation at the pool, girl talk, walking the boardwalk and doing lots of people watching.

How many times will I learn the lesson about letting go of expectation? :)

Dating Like Seinfeld

Remember how Jerry used to have a different girlfriend every episode? And he would sit in the diner with George, Elaine, and Kramer and pick them apart? The high talker, the low talker, the girl with the man-hands, the girl that was naked all the time, the girl with a name that rhymed with a female body part. I could go on and on. But it was an ongoing joke that Jerry was quite particular (and shallow) about the women he dated.



The stereotype for a single woman my age is that we have a tendency to lower our standards, and pretty much take whoever will have us. Simply to avoid the "horrible life" of a single woman.



I believe I'm becoming more like Seinfeld. And until very recently, I was feeling quite guilty about it, and considering changing. Take a look at some of the reasons I've had for rejecting men that I've dated/ or could have dated over the past several months:



* He looked old. More specifically, he had an old neck.

* He was a big "Earth, Wind, and Fire" fan

* He's too short. (He said 5'8", but I'm 5'7" and he wasn't taller than me.)

* He's lived in this area his entire life, and has never lived anywhere else.

* His entire family lives within a five mile radius of him.

* He's 10 years older than me.

* He's 11 years younger than me.

* He has terrible taste in clothes.

* His first few calls to me were after 10 pm at night (and closer to 11.)

* He didn't call when he said he would.

* His name was Bob.

* He's a salesman, and always has been.

* He's unemployed and doesn't really seem to know what to do next.

* Of all the places in the DC metro area, he chose the Tabletop Diner for our first date.

* He talks about money a lot, in a very cost-conscious way.

* He avoids the beach because he has fair skin.

* He called me "sweetie" on our first date.



Now, before you blast me, let me explain. Some of these reasons weren't the only reason why I decided someone wasn't right for me. Yes, I am aware that I'm not God's gift to men, and I shouldn't be so critical. And yes, I also realize some of my reasons are a bit hypocritical: (I'm sort of in sales, I am very careful at the beach because of my fair skin, etc.) Friends wonder if I'm being too picky; they wonder what I'm looking for. At this point, I think I have sort of a "I'll know it when I see it" attitude. No hurries, no worries.



Rewind to my teenage years. I lost my virginity when I was 19. That was considered late even back then. It wasn't because I had no interest in sex. It wasn't because I was "waiting for marriage" or anything. I probably began considering sex a possibility at the age of 15 or so. But I had one basic requirement for the first man I would sleep with.



I had to be absolutely sure that he liked me at least as much as I liked him.



Of course many boys acted like they liked me. A lot. I heard many "I love you's". But I was never absolutely sure. I trusted my gut, and it steered me in the right direction. Then I met R, and I was absolutely sure. And apparently I was right, since we stayed together for seven years after that.



Somewhere along the line, I stopped trusting my gut. (I think the fear of the biological clock had something to do with it.) I thought I needed to be more "open", more "accepting". Give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Wait until there are three strikes (and even then- what do I consider a "strike"?) So I gave the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes I became blind to the issues that would normally bother me. And I regretted it. Every. Single. Time.



I feel like I'm back to my teenager approach of having one simple requirement. I will not date someone unless it simply feels right. And I believe that my resistance to seemingly trivial details about someone is just my instinct sending me clues.



Finally! I'm once again on speaking terms with my instinct.

Sugar, Spice, but not always nice

I went to see the movie, "Gracie", this weekend. It's set in 1978- it's about a female high school student that wants to play soccer on the boys team. She wants to play to honor the memory of her older brother the soccer star, that dies in a car accident. She wants to play because she simply loves the sport.

She faces a lot of opposition. Her younger brothers laugh at her. Her mom and dad let her know that she can't do it because she's a girl. School officials feel the idea is ridiculous.

This movie brought back memories for me. I was in sixth grade in 1978, so I was a little bit younger than the main character. But the styles, the lifestyle, the families all reminded me of my hometown and my adolescence.

With one major difference.

I never, ever, felt that anything would be more difficult for me because I'm a girl. I always knew that my parents believed that I could do anything I set my mind to. Gender never played into it.

My mother used to say things like "it's a man's world". But I always got the impression that she and my father were confident that I would make it my world too. I never felt like a victim. I never felt powerless. And I certainly never felt inferior to men.

I recognize that I am fortunate. I have never been a victim of violence. I have never faced serious opposition to something I wanted to do.

I am also fortunate that I had parents that helped to lay a strong foundation, enabling me to take on this "man's world".

Thank you Mom and Dad for helping me to be the strong, independent, confident woman that I am.

Scent of a Woman

I think I'm giving off some sort of vibe. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I'm experiencing some kind of phenomenon.

It started with a booty text.

While I was on vacation, I received a booty text message at 8:30 am on Sunday morning. Which made it 2:30 am here in DC. This from a guy I dated about five years ago. We have what I would call an occasional, very platonic, friendship. The text made me laugh. Poor guy must have been in quite a state to resort to an ex from so long ago!

Also in Spain, one of the guys that was traveling with us developed an interest in me. This was complicated on many levels, but one being the fact that he had a "girl back home". At least I think he had an interest, it was all rather confusing and felt a little bit like high school "does he like me? what's that all about?"

The day after I returned from vacation I had to go to the tire store to replace a flat. The man ahead of me in line let me "cut" in front of him. I wasn't sure why, but it soon became clear. He began chatting with me, telling me he had to "stick around" because he "noticed me" and found me to be "very attractive". He proceeded to want to get my phone number so he could "get to know me better". Now I realize this sort of thing happens to women on a daily basis, but I can't remember the last time it has happened to me outside of a bar or party atmosphere. Typically, even if a man starts to talk to me at a store or coffee shop or something, it doesn't progress to the "can I have your number?" phase... So the aggressiveness of this man took me by surprise, and flattered me.

Meanwhile, I've been doing the online dating thing. I'm very selective in this process, it usually takes a lot for me to even get to a phone conversation, let alone a first meeting. But this week, for some odd reason, I find myself in "talks" with three different suitors.

Last, and probably least, there was the man on the street in Manhattan yesterday that looked me in the eye and said "Wow!" OK...so he was quite a bit older than me, and probably a bit insane, but still- quite the reaction.

So am I looking particularly good? No, not really. In fact, I have succeeded in gaining back some of the weight that I had lost, and I'm feeling pretty frustrated about that. Besides, it can't be about how I look, since that wouldn't explain the increased online traffic or the booty text.

I really do believe it's part of the energy or vibe that I'm "putting out there". I remember several weeks ago when I did my series on "Great Loves", Reya noticed that it appeared like I was doing some sort of a love spell. I think perhaps there could be some truth to that.

I'm also wondering if it has anything to do with the recent mental shift I've had lately. I have started to feel very happy and content with my life as it is. I'm not really looking for anything. With anyone. Yes, I have emotional needs, physical needs, desire for companionship, support. I have managed to have all these needs met without being in a committed relationship. And I get the added perks of being free and independent.

So perhaps that's the vibe that the male species is picking up on. Maybe my recent shift has added to my self-confidence as a desirable woman. I have no idea how long I will have this perspective, but I'm going to run with it.

Summer is here, time for some fun!

Picasso Porn and a word meaning "loud and tacky"

Have you ever seen a porn channel that has been scrambled because you haven't paid for it? I've heard that referred to as "Picasso Porn"...you see a boob here, an arm there, a belly button, a penis. In no particular anatomical order.

Last week, I visited the Picasso museum in Barcelona. It focuses primarily on Picasso's works as a young child and teenager. I was absolutely amazed at this young boy's genius. Of course his style was very different from the Picasso we all recognize (apparently he was very much influenced by his traditional father). His portraits were so detailed, so perfect, so realistic.

The biggest surprise I had in this museum was the "porn room". It was a series of drawings from Picasso's teenage years. It was actually a bit humorous as you can imagine the things he was discovering at this point in his life. There were drawings depicting virtually every kind of sex act. There was the drawing of a nude woman with a big huge fish where her genitals should be. Or actually, the fish was sort of "attached" to the genital area. And the drawing which I lovingly called "too much information" depicting a woman obviously having her period standing next to a stool covered with blood.

The other artist I "met" during my Spain trip was Gaudi. Barcelona's pride and joy. At least he is now- he certainly wasn't so appreciated when he was alive. While his style is not exactly my taste...I could appreciate the pure talent, vision, originality. He was clearly one of those "ahead of his time" type of artists. We wondered if the term "gaudy" came from Gaudi. One of my fellow travelers said that she would never use that term again as she felt it was disrespectful to an extremely talented individual.

I was amazed at the science and the creativity behind Gaudi's architecture. I also appreciated the fact that he worked with different textures and colors.

My approach to art has always been that I like something just because I like it. I never wanted to study it. To learn about it. To know the history. My peek into Barcelona's art world has me thinking that maybe I should reconsider!

I love the Group thing

The dynamics of traveling with a group is worthy material for an entire thesis.

I went to Spain with a group of ten. We joined another group of fourteen. So yes, I traveled around the country as a part of a 24 member group.

By the end of the trip- we were family. Yet we knew so little about each other. We spent very little time talking about "real life" stuff like jobs and families. We bonded through this amazing sensory experience we were sharing.

Travel can accelerate any relationship. Casual romantic relationships seemed to progress through an entire cycle: courtship, honeymoon, daily routine, dullness, divorce. Friends went from casual acquaintances to soul mate bff's.

We had the class clown (a couple of them, actually). The class geek came in handy because she had done advanced research on everything we could ever need to know about Spain. We followed our Spanish tour guide, Francesc (very hot), wherever he went. There was one point where we saw a school trip of kids following their teacher/chaperone. We were walking alongside them in very similar fashion. We joked that we needed to pair up and hold hands.

We didn't spend the entire time as a whole group. Sub-groups and cliques formed just like high school. The "party-ers" stayed together, as did the "museum buffs". Leaders emerged. If someone became annoying, it was easy enough to avoid them. Flirtations began. Gossip spread. Any couples that had interest in each other were careful to keep things in check in order to avoid the scrutiny of the others. Seriously!

Upon my return home, my house felt very silent. I actually missed my new family. I've already been contacted by a couple of them to get together. So it seems I'm not the only one.

Manera Europea

I liked taking pictures of three things in Spain: the landscape, the architecture, and the people.

Unfortunately, I was very unsuccessful at taking good pictures of Europeans. Many times during my trip, I would sit at a cafe or on a park bench and simply watch the people. I loved it.

Their fashion sense just strikes me as being more...something...than American's. Sophisticated? Put together? Even when they are sloppy, they look stylish. Europeans have this casual confidence thing down- it's truly an art for them. A travel mate thought they all looked dirty. I pointed out that it depended what part of Barcelona we were in. In Los Ramblas, they did have a bit of a "grunge" look to their hair, etc. But on the Carrera de Passion (not sure what the exact name was, but it was a combination of Rodeo Drive and 5th Avenue put together) everyone looked like they were just featured in a magazine as a fashion "do".

So as I would sit and do my people watching, I would try to unobtrusively take pictures of intriguing looking people as they passed. My friend thought it was hysterical, and was concerned I'd get "caught". I didn't- but I also didn't get a single good shot.

I was particularly drawn to couples. There were so many couples holding hands as they walked down the street. Do we have that here and I just don't notice? When I say a lot, I mean that a hand holding couple would walk by probably every 10-15 seconds. And they fit together. I mean physically and fashion-wise. Their outfits wouldn't exactly match, but they would be stylishly equal.

I've discovered that aesthetics is very important to me. I am directly affected by what I see. I want to look good, want my home to look good. I enjoy looking good with my partner. My mood elevates when I'm surrounded by beauty- whether it's nature, architecture, art, or people. And the Europeans seem to have mastered style and aesthetics. Perhaps that is why being in Spain felt like such an emotional "fit" for me.

Te amo, Barcelona!

I have fallen in love.

Again.

It appears that I have very strong, visceral feelings for European cities. And the European countryside.

I experienced this in Tuscany last year, and now in Spain this year.


We visited Valencia first and briefly.

I loved the combination of old and new architecture.

The flavor of culture. The colors.

The beach reminded me a bit of South Beach.

When we arrived in Barcelona I was overcome with a rush of adrenaline.

It was almost overwhelming.

I've been feeling restless for about the past year. Wanting to move to a new place. Yearning for a new adventure. I've been wanting to be someplace warm, near the water. I'm a city girl and need access to the excitement that a big city has to offer.

I was amazed that Barcelona fits the bill perfectly. It's a big, cosmopolitan city that would rival Manhattan. Close to amazing beaches. Mountains. History. Culture. Architecture. Style. Passion.


I felt the pull. What struck me is that my life is such that I could live there if I chose. That thought just blew me away. I could embark on any adventure anywhere in the world at any time I chose. So Barcelona brought out feelings of intense freedom. Excitement. Endless possibilities.



When we visited Sitges, a resort town just 30 minutes outside Barcelona, I literally experienced butterflies in my stomach. I'm not exaggerating when I say that it was slightly orgasmic.

Sitges is a town with all white buildings, situated on a gorgeous expanse of Meditteranean beach. I spent an afternoon with wonderful friends luxuriating on this perfect beach, on a perfect day, contemplating the beauty I have seen, and all that I have yet to see.

My mind and heart are filled with the thoughts, ideas, experiences and observations I had over the past week. Jet lag has everything jumbled together in my mind- just waiting for clarity and expression. For now, I need to rest, as my ideas start to formulate. Travel is turning out to be so much more for me than a vacation.

Isn't life exquisite?