Thank You, Paris!

Thank you to Paris for such a wonderful and much needed break. 

I had promised my daughter Rachel, who just finished her freshman year at NYU-Tisch, a trip to Paris when she graduated high school last year.  For so many reasons, we couldn’t take the trip, but this year we headed out from Wednesday, May 25 and came back Sunday, May 29.  (Marc came too to make it all a little easier to navigate--he's been there many times.)

I now understand why people fall in love with this city.  It was so beautiful and the people were so incredibly accommodating and nice. 

We stayed at the St. James Albany Hotel on Rue de Rivoli, opposite the Tuileries Gardens.  From our balcony we could look down onto the gardens.  To our immediate left, about a city block away, was the Louvre.  To our right and out a bit was the Eiffel Tower.

I have been in love with the Eiffel Tower for years, much as a teen girl loves the idol of the month—in others words, from posters and afar.  Seeing it with my own eyes was one of the high points of my life, for reasons I can’t even explain to myself.  But when I touched it, Marc was taking the picture, Rachel was in the picture with me, and Wil was on the phone.  It was special.

Our meals were wonderful and Rachel enjoyed the fact that she could drink legally.  She also found out that about 1 glass of wine is her limit, otherwise, “Oops, it’s happening again, I’m tipsy.”

The best thing I had to eat was an amuse bouche at Jasmin in St. Germaine de Pres.  It was a gazpacho made with asparagus and cream with a few flecks of red pepper.  The best escargot were at a brasserie around the corner of the  hotel whose name escapes me.  The best meal was an amazing poulet avec morrelles and I don’t know if what accompanied the chicken was potatoes or a potatoe pasta that was out of this world. 

Our taxi driver on the way home looked like Henry Kissinger and was a sweetheart.  The hotel staff were very helpful and always very polite.

I was a little intimidated that my high school French would be offensive to the people of Paris, but the reverse was true.  They appreciated—or seemed to appreciate—the effort the 3 of us made and were gracious to speak English when we struggled and happy to play along in French when we seemed to be plodding along well enough.

There was beauty everywhere and how it evidenced the appreciation the French people have for beauty in all of its forms.  From the very ornate fountain at the Place de la Concorde to simple flower boxes, from the immaculately clean streets to the simple display windows in the stores, everywhere the eye was greeted with something pleasing.

Merci beaucoup Paris!

No New Car...

I decided that needs win over wants, at least for now.  I don't need another car and so I'm not getting another car.  Let's see how Wil does as a student driver.  I'm being practical.  Ouch, it just doesn't feel like me!  

I did, however, see a gorgeous Audi A5 convertible on the road today.  Steel grey. Beautiful, just beautiful.  I wished I was driving it, the driver looked so happy!

My Next Car

I love cars.  I think I was a stable boy in a past life and have, over time, transferred the passion I feel for horses to cars.  I love sleek, sport cars.  I love convertibles.  I love stick shifts.  I know nothing about engines and the things under the hood, anymore than I understand the technology that powers cell phones, the Web, or my iPad, though I use those constantly, everyday, too.

My friends have teased me mercilessly over the years about the endless parade of cars through my life.  Since getting my first car 30 years ago, I have had 13 of them shown below (years are model years, not the year I got the car, and they are estimates):

1974 Dodge Dart, brown (used)

1983 Honda Civic hatchback, gold/beige (first new car)

1990 Nissan 240SX, black (new)

1988 BMW Sedan, dark grey (used)

1992 Nissan Altima, teal (new)

1998 Infiniti G20, red (new—worst car I ever had, never buying Infiniti again)

2000 Nissan Pathfinder, white (new)

2002 Saab hatchback, white (new)

2004 Mercedes E, black (used—tie for worst car I ever had)

2008 Mercedes ML-3, white (new)

2009 VW Beetle convertible, triple white (new)

2010 Eos, hardtop convertible, white (new)

2010 Audi Q5, black (new—best car I ever had and probably the best one I will ever have)

I hated the Dodge Dart.  My mom helped me buy it when I graduated college and I had wanted a smaller car with a stick shift, but all we could afford was the Dart.  It was in good condition for an older car, but it went downstream rapidly and was constantly leaving me high and dry. 

When I was at the first ad agency and feeling like I was starting to make a little money, even though it was a real stretch, I bought the Civic, my first new car.  It was good to me but it was not a lasting love. 

My first love was the sporty Nissan 240SX that I bought after my mom passed away in 1988, though I think I got it in 1990.  What I remember about that was how badly my then husband was behaving at the dealership.  He didn’t want me to spend my mom’s inheritance on the down payment for the car, though he had no problem using it for a down payment on his car or on updating our kitchen.  The dealership owner took me aside and said I was welcome anytime but to please not bring my husband.  The other thing that I remember is that the car didn’t last long—it was the first time I had to give up something I loved for Rachel—she came along in 1992 and her car seat didn’t go easily into the back seat of the 2-door 240SX.

I drowned my sorrows with my first “executive” car, a used, dark grey, black leather interior BMW, stick shift.  It was a good car, but the rear-wheel drive was a bitch in the snow.  I also was convinced people weren’t nice to me when I drove it, assuming I was an a-hole because I drove a B-mer.  No one let me into traffic, no one gave me a break.  Didn’t happen in any car before that, didn’t happen with any car since.  Form you own conclusions.

Next up was the Altima.  I saw another woman driving it and fell in love (with the car).  I got it in teal with cream leather interior.  It was a wonderful car, very reliable.  I held onto that one for a while until the interior started to look worn and my head was turned by the new, red, Infiniti G-20, which turned out to be one of the 2 worst cars I ever owned.

I wanted the Infiniti J-30 (which looked a lot like the mid-range Nissan, the Altima) but went for the low-end Infiniti that I could afford (which looked like Nissan’s low end Sentra).  It was a piece of crap from the word “Go.”  It looked great but rattled like crazy and I lost a lot of valuable time driving back and forth to the dealership trying to get it remedied.  Rather than try to make a lemon law claim, I just turned it in and got another new car, this time a white Nissan Pathfinder, leather interior. 

(Actually, every car that could have had leather interior did.  The only pleathers were the Dart, the Civic and the VW Bug.)

Then came the leased Saab, the only time I leased.  It was white with tan interior.  I liked it but didn’t love it.  What I remember about it was the hard-ass negotiating I did to get it (the sales guy expected a cream puff and got a piranha) and the time I was in the service waiting area and had a nice conversation with a woman who said I should talk with her daughter who worked at Johnson & Johnson.  I thought she wanted me to give her daughter a job. “Oh, no honey, I think she can help you.  She’s in charge of marketing several products there.”  I had lunch with her daughter and the rest is history. 

After the Saab I “upgraded” to a Mercedes, albeit used.  It was a horror show.  Even though I did my homework on the car, it turned out to have one problem after another.  So then I bought, at a great price, a new Mercedes SUV.  At first it was disappointing because it had a number of problems:  unbalanced steering (pulled hard to the right), electronic issues with the gas cap, warning lights coming on for no reason, etc.  But then it settled down and was actually a very nice car.  But never a great car.

While I had the Mercedes, I also bought, for fun, a convertible VW Bug that I nicknamed Digby (Digital Brand Expressions).  I really enjoyed it, but then money got tight during the recession, Rachel wasn’t getting her license as expected, and so I traded both Digby and the Mercedes for an Eos.

That was a mistake.

The kids complained about how cramped the back seat was.  Nobody loved the roof being down but me.  And it was simply too small to have as the only car for a family.

So less than 9 months later, I turned in the Eos, which was one sexy looking car, for the love of my car life, the Audi Q5.  The Audi Q5 is a small SUV.  It’s shaped like an SUV, it has room in the cargo area for “stuff,” but it is a true luxury vehicle everywhere else.  Leather seats, great sound system, “wood” trim.  It’s beautiful, it rides great, and I absolutely love it.  Love it. Love it.

So what is the purpose of this post?  I’m in conflict.  I’ve got the fever again.  I am staring at the Eos’ I see and thinking, “That could be me driving that.”  I don’t want to turn in my Q5, I love that car. 

But then again, I don’t need another car.  But I am working 70 hours a week and I want to enjoy the summer in a convertible.  But I don’t need to spend money on another car.  But I would really enjoy driving a stick shift convertible. 

I could lease it…

Stay tuned.

Post Mother's Day Celebration

Sunday was Mother's Day.  It was a day to remember, and I will, always.

Rachel couldn't be home because of the work she was doing at NYU, but she did give me a beautiful bouquet of roses when Wil, Hei, and I went to the city on Saturday to bring home some of her things for the end of the school year.

On Sunday, Wil spent the whole day WITH me and surprised me by taking me out to lunch at one of our favorite spots.  Ever the gentleman, he paid for everything and tipped well.

Rachel checked in twice to make sure I was enjoying the day.

Marc, Wil and I went to a friend's 50th late in the afternoon, didn't stay long because I was very tired, and headed back home to relax together.

I think it was my best Mother's Day so far.  Why?  Because my kids showed me they cared in ways that really meant something to me.  Every good mom wants to know she's doing a good job.  Having kids who show they care shows you're getting some things right.

And They're Off!

Boy, I just looked at my 4-16-11 post and realize it’s been a while, so I thought “I’d better post something new lest people think my Hell days continued. Actually, it’s been a busy 3 weeks but for the most part, it’s good. At work, we landed a very exciting new client and are having lots of good conversations with potential clients and potential strategic partners—I feel very energized.


And it's Kentucky Derby Day.  They're about to start any minute now.


So, I just got back from NYC, picking up some of Rachel’s clothes, books, etc. to help empty her room as her freshman year winds down. Wil and his girlfriend, Hei, took the ride with me and all 4 of us had lunch together at a little place on a corner of Greenwich whose name already escapes me. There was a street festival going on right outside, with booths and lots of decadent, fried food. The entire time we were in the restaurant I could see the Zeppoles, Deep Fried Oreos, Calzones sign taking up a good 33% of my view. I didn’t want them, but my brain kept reminding me they were a possibility.


Rachel had surprised me with a bouquet of beautiful pink roses for Mother’s Day when we got to her dorm today. She can’t come home tomorrow and I honestly didn’t expect her to give me anything. How sweet and wonderful it was. She’s turning into a really cool person. And a true New Yorker. Now when we need to go somewhere it’s she who knows where we’re going and it’s me who’s following. Although I did keep pulling her back when she tried to cross the street when the sign said not to—even when there weren’t cars coming.


We didn’t stay long, much to Rachel’s chagrin. I worked over 70 hours this week, and she didn’t understand that I'm tired and get anxious about the parking outside her building, the logistics of the luggage and other things we had to drag downstairs. We did get lucky and there was a spot when I came up the block with the car. Hei, Wil and Rach got everything in. It was good to see her and hug her. I miss her so much.


I know I was annoying her when I kept trying to protect her while crossing the streets. I told her when I Skyped her a few minutes ago—“You’re becoming quite a woman and I’m really impressed with you—but you need to understand that while I apologize for forgetting you don’t need me to cross the street, you’ll always be baby Rachel to me.”


Man, where does the time go? They’re almost both all grown up.  


The horses have reached the starting gate.  And they're off!


Thank you, Universe for all the good stuff. :-)