Goodbye. C'est tout!

I’ve always thought of life as a series of books- and within that series, a number of chapters. I began this blog at the beginning of a book… I began that book over four years ago, in another country, living another life. I had hopes and dreams…expectations and doubts. I did what I could with what I had and seeked to attain what it was I didn’t yet possess. All the while, documenting my journey wherever I could: in the margins of novels, on restaurant napkins, in my various journals and in a more orderly fashion- right here, on this blog.

I couldn’t have said, four years ago, where I would be today. I couldn’t have even imagined it.

And yet, if I didn’t have this blog…I probably would not remember now, where I was then…and all the many chapters that made up this incredibly marvelous book. Looking back, through the countless emotions, reflections and contemplations since I began “I Bet Elephants Taste Like Mushrooms,” I came to a number of conclusions. It’s enlightening to witness my own progression….my metamorphosis. I began writing this blog as one version of myself- and now I am another. The blog has given me the opportunity to observe my own evolution- and to, oftentimes a bit too candidly, let others into my world. To examine how I have grown, and how in some ways, how I have I have regressed.

I am reminded of the many individuals who have passed through my life – some leaving their mark, some leaving only a whisper of remembrance. I am reminded of the people I have loved and of those I have lost. The places I have been…the cities that will only ever be visited again through photographs- and those that remain in my heart. Reading through my blog…I have relived the memories that have formed me…the recollections of experiences that remain with me- leaving me full of conviction and fortitude.

Most significantly, I have reached the conclusion that these chapters are coming to a close; that this book is ending. And I say this with a bit of sadness, as oftentimes when one finishes the last page of a great book and has to say goodbye to the characters that have accompanied them on a noble voyage. But again, just like a book- it is possible to one day, go back and open the first page and begin again…recalling the emotions that lie dormant in the back of their minds as the tiny fragments of a memory that was once a reality.

Throughout this blog- I have loved and lost and loved again, I have felt fear and sadness, pride and contentment, I have learned an infinite amount about an infinite number of things, I travelled a sum of continents, discovered parts of the world- along with parts of myself, I never knew existed. I got an MBA. I began a new career- taking all that I knew and all that I know and all that I want to be- and found something that brings me so much joy, I only hope to continue to do it. I met the man I am going to marry. Which brings me to my next point:

In less than three weeks I am getting married. I wake everyday and feel like I am living a fantasy- with a man that has helped me find my path. In three weeks time, I will say “I do” to someone who has made so many of my dreams come true- to someone who may not completely understand me, but who fully accepts me. To someone who protects me but allows space for my dreams to grow…someone who waters the small seeds I plant everyday. A dreamer like me- but an individual who teaches me an immeasurable number of lessons about reality.

So here I am, displaying what I can bear to expose of my soul, as I have been for the past four years. From England to Spain to the US and finally Italy. Here I am again, but this time to say goodbye. Because this book is over. Because its time to close this final chapter with an appropriate farewell and begin a new one. Because as Semisonic once sang, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

This book has lived its beginning, its middle and now, its end. It has had its chapters….its small amusements in its plots, its crises and one common theme- the words that come directly from my heart…written through laughter and tears. Many characters have passed through the pages of this blog, people who have touched me in one way or another. And it has had its climax- or climaxes, I would like to think. There have been powerful moments of doubt and shame. Periods of sadness that I thought would never end. Moments of euphoria that I tried as hard as I could to hold on to.

And therefore, now, four years later…I write to you, yet again, from the bottom of my heart, the tips of my fingers and the inner depths of my spirit, with a few more wrinkles, a lot more wisdom, and an irrepressible excitement about the future.

I want to say goodbye to those of you who have accompanied me on my journey- who have shared your thoughts and ideas with me- who have silently read my blog, either praising my endeavors or criticizing my naiveté. I thank all of you- for sharing such a wonderful part of my life with me- such a wonderful book, with countless distinctive chapters. I want to take this opportunity to say goodbye to those of you I have lost…because through the passage of time and widening of distance, through unfortunate circumstances and simply growing out of each other, I was unable to hold on to some of you. And there is no one to blame but myself…because I made all the choices that lead to the consequences I live everyday. I left you – along with certain parts of myself behind. And then there are those of you who have continued with me on my path…who have remained constant companions on this journey. And I thank you. And ask you to stay with me- because it is you who bring life and color to every chapter.

As for the future, I have high hopes- because that is all we can do. Is hope. And do our very best to never lose our innocence, our curiosity and our enthusiasm. It is all we can do to stay true to ourselves, and to continue to be open to the lessons that each day brings.

I still have yet to decide what the equation is: how much of life is luck, how much is preparation and how much is destiny- if destiny exists. But maybe I can take this occasion to impart a bit of wisdom as well…a few lessons that I, myself, have learned on this journey:

I have learned that undoubtedly- positivity breeds positivity. There will be countless people who try to bring you down; it is up to you to not let them. Let the good ones in. Forget what your enemies have done to you, but always remember their names. Trust no one- because those we trust the most have the capacity to hurt us the deepest…at the same time, remain open to love and friendship- because they are the elements that make up the joys in life. Don’t be afraid to try- what’s the worst that can happen? You fail. But you pick yourself up and try again- integrating the lessons that you learned along the way. Living well is the best revenge. I truly believe that anything is possible- if we believe in ourselves and have the courage to risk. With great risk, comes great reward. Don’t let others define you- don’t define yourself by where you come from, how you dress, who you know- and never stop learning. Never regret… learn instead. Be selfless…sometimes. Be selfish others. Be open to hurt- because if we close ourselves off for fear of pain- we are closed off to pleasure as well. I learned that “the one” doesn’t exist. There are many individuals we can love in this life…and the love of one does not exclude the other. Trust your instincts….they rarely lead you wrong. Family is wonderful- but they can hurt you too. Money isn’t everything- it can’t buy happiness- but it does make daily life a bit easier. There are no such things as adults, just big children. No one is ever mature- we just pretend to be. Be honest, be open, be candid- many people will criticize you but there is no other way to be. Live your pain…because only through acceptance, can you reach delight. Sleep is fundamental. Listen to music. Take time for yourself…and your passions. Live for each day. It is oftentimes the simple things in life that are the most extraordinary. Don’t burn bridges- but if a bridge catches fire, walk away. Keep your head held high, even if you want to bury it under the covers forever. Take time to mourn the losses you will encounter- but let the people who love you help you recover. Dogs truly are man’s best friends- (especially Labradors). Change is the only constant thing in life. Create value. Time heals all wounds. Don’t always think before you speak- sometimes what comes out of your mouth will be the truest thing you've ever said. Everyone deserves a second chance- but not a third. You don’t ever have to do anything, you always have a choice. Take tons of pictures- you’ll be glad you did. First impressions are generally wrong- but never make a bad one. Let go of expectations…they are rarely met. Instead, enjoy the surprises. Never take anything for granted- you don’t know when it will be taken away. Giving is far better than receiving- in all cases. Sunshine and pizza cure most ailments. Laughter cures all of them. Life is exceedingly brief- so live each moment to the fullest- or at least wake up each morning with the intention to do so. Never diet- but live healthily. Give in to momentary pleasures- we aren’t saints….stop pretending to be. Apologize if you are sorry. Not when you aren’t. If you love someone, tell them. Constantly. Learn the rules, even the unspoken ones- then play better.

Never stop dreaming.

Ever.

All my love,

Morgan

Sognando Italia- The End (of the Beginning)

The best experiences in life always seem to end too quickly. I’m not so sure what that says about previous ordeals that seemed to last a lifetime (i.e. corporate finance class or doing the dishes). However, what I do know is that the past two months have flown by. Alas, the filming of Sognando Italia has concluded and I find myself back in Italy- struggling with jet lag and attempting to reinstate myself into the life I knew when I left two months ago- as a slightly changed version of myself. And although in the whole scheme of things, two months is a finite period of time…the things we did, times we laughed and tears we shed- are countless. It all transpired in the blink of an eye yet at the same time, the sum of events is inestimable.

I have always been a firm believer in the fact that each person we meet in this life, each individual we spend time with- changes us in one way or another. The format of Sognando Italia- the fact that we toured through 10 different cities- meeting 10 different individuals and their friends and families, is just the basic idea. The truth is, these protagonists/subjects of ours- let us into their homes- into their hearts. And each individual had messages for us- wisdom to impart. The best bit was that it was all there for the taking- like an abundant feast of knowledge and truths.

So amidst the work, the early mornings and long hours- we had 10 wonderful chaperons- maneuvering through their cities, and their lives- displaying to us what they understand to be true…allowing us to partake in a bit of them-and take what we wanted….well, what they allowed us to have.

Therefore, in the past two months, I have a large file of encounters rich enough to fill up a short lifetime. Each of which, more remarkable than the next.

I have been in a stem-cell research lab watching as the future of medicine changes, driven a 1952 red Cadillac up the Vegas strip, jumped out of a plane with some of the global champions of extreme sports, been part of a TV set in Los Angeles, sung (albeit poorly) in the recording studio with one of the most notable Italian singers/songwriters in the US, played Anita Ekberg in a reproduction of the Trevi Fountain at a black-tie gala in Chicago, been backstage with the headliners of the largest show in Vegas, biked through times square on a Sunday morning, opened a New Orleans radio show, learned to Salsa dance in a basement dressed as a cat, met noted photographer Doug Kirkland at one of his own openings, played poker with professional players in Sin City (and lost even with two Aces in hand!), seen Elton John live, sat and chatted with legend Peter Bennett about the real reason The Beatles broke up, been first row in a Broadway show, attended (and took a little nap) at the opening night of Richard the 3^rd starring Kevin Spacey in San Francisco, been to the Venice film festival as a guest of the production of the new Al Pacino film (thanks Giulia- you rock!). I flew in a wind tunnel, danced in the middle of Hilton’s ornate ballroom in Chicago, witnessed astronauts training in the biggest pool in Texas, touched a moonstone, learned Bocce Ball with the team at Tulane University, visited an authentic oil rig with a select group of MBA students, seen a jazz legend play on Bourbon street in New Orleans, learned to roll a cigar in Miami’s Little Havana, interviewed Italian Ambassador to America Giulio Terzi di Sant’Agata, chatted with Nancy Pelosi and the same day, met with Dr. Robert Gallo, the embodiment of AIDS research in America. I’ve seen innumerable sunsets, far too many sunrises to be considered healthy and dined in the best Italian eateries throughout the US. I sat in NASA’s ground control rooms, seen the Vegas strip from the seat of a helicopter, jetted around the gulf of Mexico in a speedboat, sat in front of the vastness of the desert in Death Valley thinking about nothing- thinking about life, chatted with the director of the Corcoran gallery at an art opening in DC, gotten caught in a hailstorm at Red Rock in the Nevada desert, ran up a $2800 minibar bill by just picking up the objects and putting them back down, danced the night away dressed as Wonder Woman in one of the most famous restaurants in DC, eaten meat after 27 years of being a vegetarian just for the love of the program, rode a horse on a Texas ranch, seen NYC from the back of a Vespa, toured the Miami Design district and been introduced to Wynwood by one of the most up and coming artists in Miami, held a baby albino alligator, hung off of a San Francisco tram in the middle of a sunny day, and the list goes on.

I got to know America again- after many years abroad. I got to know myself again- something I didn’t realize I had lost.

But above all this, I have come across and become acquainted with some of the most extraordinary people I could have ever encountered. And for this, I am eternally grateful. Cristiana Rastellini and her beautiful family taught me that boundaries don’t exist- that anything is possible…maybe with a bit of “flexibility.” She and Luca inspired me on a personal level and a professional level, to an extent that I thought I was incapable of. Roberta Mancino taught me to fly. And for that, I will be forever thankful- and to her friends, some of the most fearless people I have ever met- I thank them for letting me into their world and therefore, opening up mine. I learned from her that we find our own happiness…as she found hers- in the freedom of flight and exploring new frontiers. To Joelle for fighting everyday- for herself, her family, her son. For her strength and talent and strong spirit. For letting me know that its ok to cry- but when the lights go on and the curtains are drawn- to take all the love and passion for what you do- and let it take over your soul. To Giada whose positivity is addictive and smile is captivating- for redefining for me what it is to be successful- and for totally proving me wrong about my thoughts of being a diva. To Annah, for showing me that I should always “Love Today,” and reminding me that maybe I have found my “happy ending” to this new beginning. To Peter for showing me no matter how serious the subject, we can make it funny. To Checco, Robert, Giulia, Franco and Alex for opening up their homes, introducing me into their families and friends, and opening their hearts to the crew and me. Each one of Sognando Italia’s protagonisti, in their various cities and diverse industries, proved to me that there are no limits- that anything is possible. They taught me about bravery and persistence, belief in oneself and having the courage to keep believing…everyday.

To Nikki, Jeihson, Tree, Melissa, etc…for making me beautiful everyday, covering my pimples and dealing with me in the mornings- and Sandro’s “Madonna hair and EYELASHES” in the afternoons.

And to my beautiful team- my new family…whose talents are boundless and humor is unparalleled. Words don't suffice- they never will. We have shared in an experience that only we will ever understand and exchanged an untold amount of compassions, uncertainties, hardships and kindnesses. You made me laugh and cry and yell and smile everyday for the longest two months of my life. You have opened my heart and invaded my soul- and each one of you will remain there forever- along with your immeasurable time lapses and paglie giganti. Thank you.

It’s a happy ending…to the very beginning

Sognando Italia- The Middle

So this is what I think…really. I think that everything we do leads to something else- something more definitive. I now believe that positivity breeds positivity and that flexibility is one of the keys to a successful and predominantly agony free life- I say predominantly because I am quite sure that a life without any agony isn’t really lived at all. I’ve learned that I am so far from perfect- and that I need to accept other people’s imperfections as well as mine. In the middle of what will probably prove to be one of the most significant turning points in my life, I am wrought with preoccupations yet intrigued by the fact that as time rolls quickly by- the lessons I am learning are growing exponentially. My fixations are being exposed and life’s big lessons, previously disguised as little bumps in the road, are revealing themselves to be the most captivating parts of this whole process. It’s all right out there, barenaked…for me and my little crew- those of us with our eyes wide open enough to notice- to unearth and examine.

Mirroring life in general, each experience, or chapter- has its ups and downs. Therefore, the two month filming schedule throughout the US will naturally have its own crests and falls. The middle, I have found, is the hardest part: the newness of the situation has dissipated- and the finish line seems so distant that it’s impractical to try to imagine. Then again, a rapid tour of North America is hardly monotonous.

It happens to be the expectations that forsake me in the middle. At this point, we know what we have gotten ourselves into, but we are too far away from the culmination to allow ourselves to reflect- or become excited about what the result may be. The middle is the part where I tend to feel trapped- counting the days, dragging my feet and struggling not to let fear or distrust gain entry.

I have done a good amount of contemplating and dissecting. I have made a large number of assumptions- most of which naïve and utterly futile. Yet I feel, on the other hand, that I may have happened upon a few truths- the kind of truths I am in constant search of- in order to assign some sense to the larger scheme of things.

I trust that everything we do, every step we take in whichever direction, leads- undoubtedly- to something else.

Those of us courageous enough not only to try something new, but to stand up and try again when we fail (which we all undoubtedly do)…may one day begin again and change course. Those of us lucky enough to abandon the wrong paths before our minds and our hearts become completely distorted- may have a chance at happiness after all.

I think I may have found my path- or a version close to it.

There is no doubt that I’ve attempted things I never should have tried in the first place, and I pushed myself- oftentimes to my limits, only to find out that I had gone completely wrong at the start. But somehow I made it HERE. And everyday, for me, is exhilarating.

I think I’ve stumbled upon something I am truly meant to do. And honestly? It’s so good that I’m afraid it’s going to slip away- or that it isn’t real at all- or that I am going to do something so utterly wrong that it will all be taken away. But I’m trying to stay positive because although this wild ride is filled with nothing I have ever known, it sure feels like a result of everything I have done up until now. And I sense and hope that I am able to do it- and do it well.

The other day, in between scenes- sitting on the steps of a random building in another prominent US city, amongst my new family, my companions - I took a long sip of my oh-so-American Starbucks, a long drag of my oh-so-Italian cigarette…and it all just clicked. A voice in my head, peculiarly close to my own, stated: this is where I should be, doing what I should be doing. Of course, I have a long way to go- many, MANY lessons to be learned and a bumpy road ahead. But a seed has been planted…and I'm trying to work out the precise elements in order to allow me to grow.

Maybe that which I have been told all along, about life being like a puzzle: pieces fitting, square pegs, round holes and so on and so forth…is right. And for so long- I was searching for not only the incorrect pieces of the puzzles- but maybe I was looking in the wrong stores, in the wrong states- and possibly in the wrong time zones on the incorrect continents. Who knows. What I do know is that I am here now. And it feels good- it feels right. Like a new love- with all the excitement of the unfamiliar- but a strong instinctive feeling that you believe in enough to allow yourself to follow it into the dark- hoping to find the light around the edges.

At the end of the day, the anticipation is half the fun…then comes the discovery, the excitement and the exhilarating fear. The risk of disappointment, like the end, is so far off that one mustn’t worry about it yet.

I may be at the lull of the middle of the experience- the beginning is behind me and the end so far away that I haven’t yet begun to contemplate it- but I have this one major affirmation…that I have found something that fits, and I have embarked on a new path that seems to be like a round peg in a round hole- for once- and it’s something that will remain with me forever, something that can only get better from here.

Sognando Italia: The Beginning

Three weeks ago, nearly 1.5 years after the format was conceived and dutifully developed, after the hoping and toiling and wishing had all been hoped and toiled and wished- a group of eight individuals left Italy to embark on a journey- picking up friends and lessons along the way. Each day brings phenomenal amounts of novelty- and even now, at the very beginning- I can say that this will be one of those times of my life that leaves its mark on me, like a star shooting across a night sky…burning with the kind of flames that rarely fade.

And now here I am- in another somber hotel room, in another city- after three weeks of filming-physically exhausted, mentally satiated, with an alive spirit…and beyond any shadow of a doubt, steeped with excitement about what is to come.

Everyday I am fascinated- astonished by all I didn’t know and startled at myself- the good and the bad. Because in a situation like this one: living out of a suitcase, stuck in a 13 passenger van for hours on end with a group of people who were perfect strangers only a few weeks ago, working 16/17/18 hour days…and for me personally- doing something I have never done before- it’s easy to identify one’s flaws…and one’s strengths. But it’s the flaws that are more noticeable.

And I truly believe that, even in the early stages, before I have had a chance to live it all- and to look back and pick each fragment of each day apart, I am learning that fearlessness is no easy feat, but in this particular situation, it’s the only choice. Not only have I jumped in head first, but I have jumped from a higher altitude I have ever known, head first, in reverse, and done a few backflips on the way down. I am, no doubt, pushing my limits. Once again.

I am seeing America in a new light: through Italian eyes….which makes each moment sweeter and each breath fresher…but I should have expected that. I am falling in love with false eyelashes and beginning to hate hotel room service. I have learned to appreciate individuals I thought I couldn’t support and fallen out of love with aspects of myself I assumed were essential. Every day there are a million lessons to be learned, and I am lucky to seize 10 of them- because they are priceless…and awesome…and just simply beyond…

I genuinely sense that after all these years, and all of the messes I’ve made, tasks I’ve undertaken, and errors I’ve committed- that I have found something that truly works for me. I underestimated the power of being tall, blonde (in Italy) and animated to a point of exasperation. I overestimated the value of remaining within the corporate confines and boundaries that we are taught, at too young an age, exist within our futures.

I think I have finally taken most of what I know, a large portion of that which I have experienced, and all the tiny little aspects that make me, well, me- thrown them together, and come out with something that works- something that I can be proud of. And something that however exhausted I may be at the end of the day, I am thrilled to wake up the next morning and begin again.

Sleep deprivation is beginning to look OK on me, organic protein bars (and organic protein bars alone) are beginning to nourish me, and being a television host is starting to suit me. Let’s just hope the rest of Italy feels the same way.

The World Today

I sit down and I write about my life- my world. I ramble on and on about daily episodes, transient sentiments, long-ago memories and future uncertainties.  Occasionally, I touch on something “valid” that strikes a chord with a reader here, or a reader there- and then realize, again, that it’s the small stuff that connects us- i.e. a new song, the photo of a foreign city or a clever quote. Hence, I continue to write about my woes, about the good times and about the stupid bits and pieces that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things.

But recently, more frequently than not, global catastrophes are taking place and I choose not to write about them. This doesn't mean I am not thinking about them- the honest answer (and excuse) is that I just feel so helpless, so powerless- and I suppose that even mentioning the current international misfortunes and tragedies would be a waste of everyone’s time. Nothing I could say would shed light on the situation- or create any comfort for those suffering. It’s all being covered…and will go down in history books- to be studied by future generations of scientists and sociologists, anthropologists and geographers. But what about us- here and now? How are we supposed to take this?

I seem to be overwhelmed by bad news, fears and sorrow. I sit down to write about my latest adventure and all I think about is how selfish I am. How can I be enjoying myself when the planet is falling apart? In the apt words of Stephen Tyler, “There’s something wrong with the world today, and I don't know what it is.”

When various birds and fish started suddenly dying- and multiple countries began publishing puzzling statistics- the nihilists were arriving in droves with Armageddon premonitions, and I continued to write about cooking pumpkins. When an earthquake hit China last April, I made a reading list. When the volcano erupted in Iceland I wrote about socks. And when the capital city of Haiti was struck by a 7.0 earthquake, I droned on and on about falafel, cheese and in-flight magazines. Maybe I was doing the right thing, maybe not. One certainty is that the world will go on, it always goes on- humanity always recovers.

At night, I lay awake in bed, with images of that day’s newscasts scrolling through my mind- wondering about Japan- the death tolls, the devastation, the nuclear reactors and associated risks. And yes, Japan will recover too. But what about the unborn babies who will come into world from the bellies mothers exposed to the radiation? And the children who waited, in vain, for their parents to pick them up from school, not knowing whether they will ever see them again? What about the innumerable families whose homes were swallowed by the waves of the tsunami?

Then, of course, there’s the lingering question: what’s next? Because it will happen again- and we don't know when, and we don't know where- whether it will be right here, or next door, or so far away that it seems like a nightmare that we will wake up from.

On the other hand, and on the other side of the world (although only a few short kilometers from Italy)- there is a war. Operation Odyssey Dawn. Civilians have perished at the hands of their own leader, casualties are rising, and the words “installations, bombings, forces, targets, sieges and so on” are making more appearances in the news than they have since Iraq eight years ago. Gheddafi is promising “a long, drawn-out war with no limits” and I’m writing articles about marketing and researching natural dog biscuit manufacturers.

I don't know if the world is a scarier place than it was 100,200,1000 years ago- or if the information age merely gives us what it has promised to- information. And here I am, trying to figure out what to do with this influx of data and knowledge. How am I supposed to react? And more importantly, should I be doing more? I wish there existed a handbook to tell me the appropriate reaction to diverse situations. But alas, there is no instruction manual, and there is no guidebook on how to save a world that seems to be imploding on itself.

So I guess I must answer with what I find most suitable in this situation. I watch the news, I write, I contact my friends in Northern Africa and Japan to make sure they are OK, and I promise myself that This Too Shall Pass just as all the other wars have passed and cities have been rebuilt. And I hope that the scars- mental and physical- will one day heal. I hope that future generations we will be better prepared to deal with environmental disasters. And I keep thinking to myself that all those insipid beauty queens had a point as they stood on stage, lights glaring in their faces, spreading their phony dreams of “world peace” as the rest of the world lauged. But the world isn’t laughing now. No one is laughing now. There’s something wrong with the world today…

 

My friend, I'll say it clear...

Here’s the truth: I was in Miami on my actual birthday. I woke up at the crack of dawn, glanced at my watch and read 6:10 a.m.- precisely a half hour to the exact minute I was born thirty short years ago. So what did I do? I cried. I let a few idle tears slide off the sides of my face and onto the pillow- I silently whimpered a final goodbye to my 20’s, telling myself that yes, we had a good run.

When I was done with my gratuitous blubbering, I got out of bed, tiptoed downstairs, opened my mom’s sub-zero fridge in order to eat what was left of my Publix birthday cake- every last hot-pink butter cream rose. Although I felt sick for the rest of the day- it was well worth it. I had told myself that in my 30’s- I would be more health-conscious, I would be happier and not wallow in unnecessary self-pity, and that I would (continue to) live my life to the fullest. Well, at least I got the last one right.

In my teens- I wanted to be older. I longed to be able to drink (without the use of my fake ID), to vote, to drive, to get a tattoo…I wanted freedom: no curfews, unlimited television time and financial independency. In my 20s I wanted love. Now, I’m in my 30’s and I don't have a curfew, I can watch as much TV as I want (albeit in Italian), I have a tattoo that I totally regret and I am (pretty much) financially independent. I have found and lost and found love again…many times over.

30 is an age that has been creeping closer for a few years now. When I turned 28, I vowed to make the final two years count. When I turned 29, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, reminded me that it was my last shot at my 20’s. Then, as the final few weeks flew by and my birthday skidded closers and closer, I tried coming to terms with the fact that the mathematics don't lie: 29+1=30.

I have to say, now that I have finally hit the big 3.0.- I don't feel any different. I am not wiser than I was yesterday. And although I don't feel older, I did look in the mirror and happen to notice a few more wrinkles…but when I asked if this were a good age to start considering Botox, I was told I was nuts- so that contemplation was put to rest.

Somewhere amongst my journals, hidden away, I have a list that I made regarding what I planned to have accomplished by the time I was 30. It’s probably a good thing I can’t find it. Although, as best as I can remember, my goals were not unreasonable. I think, more than anything, I wanted to be a published author- a novelist, by the time I was 30. That didn't happen. I hoped to live abroad. That did happen. I wanted a master’s in business. Got that done. My own puppy. Yep. And I sought happiness. Check.

Now is the time, I suppose, to reassess my goals- and possibly put a few to rest- push harder for some- and bury others, pretending that they never even existed at all. I have to admit, it's a bit confusing when I consider what it is I want to accomplish in my 30s. Part of me says that if I haven’t done “it” yet, “it” will never happen. The other part says, go for it- this is really the last chance. I look around and in truth, it’s hard to judge, based on experience and influences, what I should or should not be doing. At 30, a great number of my friends are married- many with kids. Other groups are starting new careers or embarking on solo-ventures. Some have already made their millions, others are just beginning. I suppose, as opposed to the 20’s filled with education and career decisions- what we do with our 30’s is more of an individual choice.

Looking back, the 20s were amazing. But then again, everything is amazing “looking back.” However, I still think I had a good time. I managed to get a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree from two great universities, I moved from Miami to DC, to Italy, to NY, to England, to Russia to Mexico to Dubai, back to England, to Barcelona and wound up in Rome. Beyond that- I traveled throughout the world. I met so many incredible individuals that they are hard to count. I’ve had experiences I never even dreamed of having. I’ve learned a million and one things- from making pasta from scratch, to the basics of many world religions, a number of languages and how to change a tire. I gained “non-transferable and thus highly valued business skills” (thank you Steph) and I now know how to care for a bonsai. I’ve climbed glaciers, jumped out of planes and seen my byline in global publications. I have slept under the stars in the Sahara, cruised the Mediterranean and saved endangered sea turtles in Central America. I’ve been chased by a zebra on Safari in Kenya, been skinny dipping in the Redwood Forest, seen the Taj Majal at sunrise and gone on a camel ride around Pyramids of Giza. I’ve taken a boat trip down the Mekong Delta and planted a tree in Israel. I’ve walked through the ruins of Pompeii, Ancient Rome and Greece and spent three days ambling through the temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. I’ve bathed in the oldest Hammam in Istanbul and drank too much tequila looking over the Zócalo in Mexico City. I tuk-tuked through the colorful markets of Jaipur and witnessed to a ping-pong show in the Patpong district of Bangkok. I am a godmother, a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a best friend, and I hope- a good mother to my puppy. I sang Karaoke in Beijing and visited the clay warriors in Xian. I sailed a felucca down the Nile and drank far too many pints at Oktoberfest in Munich. I’ve gambled in the casinos of Macau and Monte Carlo, and seen Mt. Kilamanjaro from the sky. I’ve been scuba diving in the Red Sea and later, off the isolated islands of Malaysia. I learned to wakeboard in Sardegna, to surf in Costa Rica and to play pétanque on a small island in France. I’ve crawled through the Cu Chi tunnels in Vietnam and sailed along the Norweigen Fjords at springtime. I hope I’ve been a good friend to some- and maybe even made a difference in the lives of others. I’ve laughed till I peed and cried myself to sleep and now, I feel like I'm singing the final lines of Sinatra’s My Way...I did all this- and not in a shy way. And I’m only 30.

Part of me is scared. I can confidently note that I happen to be happy where I am now and I can see myself here for a while- but then sometimes, I wake up and think “is this it?” Is this where the journey ends? I could say that it’s been a good ride and leave it at that. But I know- in my heart of hearts- that I’m not ready to put away the compass and maps yet- that I can’t say that I’m done- I’m not even close to being done.  So I guess this is my personal message to my 30’s: Get ready. Here I am!

भारत गणराज्य* a.k.a. India

I went to India and did everything I could in the short time I was there. Then, I came back from India…and now I am sitting here wishing to g-d that I had stayed longer.

Nothing I had read- and nothing I was told- could have prepared me for that country. My expectations- although not completely off base, were misguided. I expected to feel suffocated and uneasy- to be agitated. Instead, I felt tranquil. Everything around me was sheer pandemonium, yet inside- complete stillness. I was happy in India- it agreed with me.

The major cities are crowded and dirty- but the crowds are swathed in dazzling colors that dot the streets like little bits of sunshine. I didn't see the litter and pollution- I saw the silk shawls and satin saris waving in the wind, brushing the feet of the women walking in their hand-woven leather sandals. India smells- but it smells alive- a powerful mixture of spice and stink in the air- so potent that its hard to discern what it is coming from or where it is going – and you never know whether the next waft will make your stomach moan with hunger, or completely rob you of your appetite.

Next to every five star hotel, is a slum- a makeshift community of littered paths and huts formed of materials found in the streets and strewn among construction sights. The abundant poverty is a glaring reminder of the fact that India, alone, is home to 1/3 of the world’s poor. But even though nearly 50% of the population falls below the international poverty line- they all smile. I swear, I rarely saw anyone without a beaming grin across their faces and friendly open arms. And regardless of income bracket or mode of transportation- Mercedes, rickshaw or donkey…everyone welcomed us- wanted to share something- whether it was a cup of tea or a simple word. The people of India received us- and took as in as if we had always belonged.

Of course, one must be careful not to drink the water- and I, for one, had a suitcase filled with antibiotics to cure any stomach ailment that has ever plagued humankind- but India was a feast of gastronomic delights. It was a banquet of tastes and flavors and smells. And as a lifelong vegetarian- I had found my culinary paradise. It was the first time in 26 years that there were so many options on a menu, I had trouble deciding. India may be loud- horns honking, donkeys baying, people haggling and animated friends eagerly signaling and saluting one another. But I don't know if anyone can tell me that they don't hear the same amount of noise in Manhattan. I quickly became accustomed to the racket- and within a few hours- I loved it. It was different from the chiming bells of Italian churches- but it was a constant reminder that “yes, I had finally made it to India.” And what a good reminder it was…

Amidst the chaos and the inescapable shifting of people and objects and animals- I felt at peace. And I felt safe- I had a sincere sensation that no one there could hurt me- or would hurt me. Of course, there is always the threat of being run over by a tuk tuk- but that would be sheer carelessness. And unfortunately, our trip coincided with the onset of some major terrorist threats- but that could happen in any nation- to anybody- foreigner or national. So I can’t blame India for being targeted.

What I felt in India was like an alarm clock- but one that wakes you from a dream where you slowly realize that the reality is so much better. Not the other way around.

I know that I have become complacent over the past year. My life is incredibly easy- and good. But I don't take risks…I don't venture out of my comfort zone. In fact, it’s hard to- when an entire country seems to have been created simply to satisfy every human desire on a daily basis.

The India trip, in contrast, was not meant to be comfortable. I wouldn't have wanted it to be. It was fast-paced, stressful and dirty. It was incredible.

India is wild and chaotic and so noisy that it is almost deafening. Traveling in India is a bumpy ride- anyway you look at it.

The vast subcontinent, with its outstanding diversity of cultures religions cuisines and languages would take a lifetime just to get to know. But in that lifetime- one would realize that there is a unity between geographical locations, castes and religions- and it's a harmony I had never felt before in any part of the world. There is an incredible sense of pride in it’s people- a dignity synonymous with honor and delight about its history and heritage- and although I am the first to admit that I have only just touched the tip of the great wealth of wisdom India and its people have to offer, what I do know is that I am hooked. And I can’t wait to return.

I wish I could report some big change in myself but unfortunately, I wasn't there long enough to undergo any transformation. Instead, it was a reminder of why I have always wanted to see India- why I travel, and why I plan to always travel. There is a lot to be said for having a home- someplace to come back to and be enveloped in- and Italy isn’t a bad place to call that “home.” But in this life of comfort and ease, challenging oneself to embark on a few adventures is a priority. I think a lot of lessons can be taken from the people of India. They are kind and welcoming. They enjoy as much as they can and they smile continuously. In India- family is important, self-respect is abundant and beauty is boundless.

I used to travel and hope to change myself in some way. I traveled for inspiration and I traveled to broaden my knowledge and understanding. Even though I still do that- I still hope to learn more about myself and the world- I’m beginning to think that I’m done changing. At the same time, I’m not focusing anymore on becoming a different person. But maybe I’m making a mistake. Because after just a few short days in India- I realized that I could live my life in a better way.

While traveling, a quote by Gandhi kept coming to mind: “I do not want my house to be walled in on all sides and my windows to be stuffed. I want the cultures of all lands to be blown about my house as freely as possibly. But I refuse to be blown off my feet by any.” Listening to what Gandhi said, and applying it to my own life, I think there is a great lesson to be learned. That no matter where our homes are- or what they are made of- it would be a sin to close ourselves in, under our roofs with our locks and keys- pretending to protect ourselves from whatever is out there in the great wide world- ugly or beautiful, dangerous or safe. It’s all there to discover, absorb and ultimately understand. We should accept whatever may cross our paths and learn from it- but to remain true to who we are. 

And when I return to India, it is with these thoughts in mind that I will confront, yet again, one of the most magnificent places I have ever been. 

And a New One Just Begun

I was wondering…how does one welcome a new year with enthusiasm when the old year was already so good?

Truth is- I would have been perfectly content sticking to 2010. The arrival of 2011 means that I am less than a month away from hitting 30…an age I was planning on avoiding…

2011 means that I graduated from my MBA “last year”- not “this year”- soooo…..no more excuses.

2011 means that if the Mayans were right- this is it. Our final year. Our last remaining chance to do everything we told ourselves we would. And even if the Mayans were wrong- the New Year means we are all (me…you…them) one year closer to the inescapable finality of our time on this earth.

I have never been good at making resolutions- and even worse at keeping them. I.e. Eat less- sleep more. Bitch less- write more. Spend less- smile more.

Truth is- whatever resolutions I would have made- had I bothered to make any- would have been the general rules I attempt to live by on a daily basis.  (And usually come up a bit short).

But enough of my unconstructive ranting. As with every dark cloud- there promises to be a silver lining. Therefore, my resolution this year will be…(drum roll please)… to seek the light out from the dark- to live within the silver lining- you know, glass half-full kind of thing.

Instead of moaning about the Christmas lights coming down and the dumpsters full of half dead pine trees- I’m perusing the stores, making a check list of all the goodies I plan on buying when the sales start in 3 days. And yes, I may be getting older- but I am convinced that I am also wiser. Plus- although the New Year means that I have no more time to fit anything into last year- I am told that we all get a clean slate- that we are absolved of our past transgressions and indulgences- saints and sinners alike- and everyone in between…

Other than that, the transition from one year into the next means what it always inevitably does- a chance to celebrate.

Being that my life, currently- is pretty much a infinite holiday- one big, fun stimulating feast of extravagance and excess…it was a bit hard for me to allocate too much importance to New Year’s Eve. But it seems that everyone else around me insisted- so in normal Italian New Year’s fashion- I attended a fabulous party with fabulous people at a fabulous locale- I ate too much, drank in excess, danced just enough, had my new years kiss and managed to not burn any body parts with sparklers. And due to the horrible man walking around with a bottle of Sambuca- pouring that syrupy sweetness down the throats of innocent party-goers (including myself)-I spent the following day ringing in the New Year comatose on the couch- nursing a hangover and begging Dudy not to pee on the floor until I had the energy to get up and take him outside.

Now that the festivities have officially come to an end- and I have finished complaining- I can only hope that 2011 brings me as much excitement, happiness and pleasure as did 2010.

Happy New Year! And may all your resolutions come true…

One Simple Equation

It's possible that I've finally deciphered the key to happiness:

puppies + good wine + plenty of sleep +Uggs

As simple as that...

U.A.E. & Me

A few weeks ago, I spent about four days in Dubai. It was my third time in the Emirate, but my first as a tourist. This time around, I was there merely to explore and enjoy. And along with the exploration- and snapshot taking, I did some reflecting- and happened to note that Dubai appears to be the city most unlike Rome in the world.

If I were to describe Rome- I’d have a sizeable catalog of adjectives, anecdotes and images. If I were asked to describe Dubai- I would simply state that it’s the opposite of Italy. 

What is old and crumbling in Rome- is new and shiny in Dubai. Where Dubai has “the biggest,” Rome has “the oldest.” Dubai’s man-made islands shaped like palms jut into the Gulf- while Rome’s man-made temples weave their ways in and out of history books like threads. Dubai runs like clockwork. Italy, oftentimes, ceases to run at all.

In Rome, the destroyed heels of my Italian shoes slide between the mislaid cobblestones- and in Dubai, my heels either clapped along the newly paved streets or sunk into the sand in the less developed areas of the city. 

In Rome, one can stroll through the city- ambling from the Spanish Steps to the Trevi Fountain- passing sculptures and churches built hundreds of years ago. While in Dubai, one can drive and see the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world standing at 2716 feet, from almost any point. Rome has the Vatican and Dubai has the Burj al Arab with its florescent lights illuminating the city, its gold plated interiors with aquariums and glistening walls.

Dubai’s ruler, Sheikh Mohammed, is in power as a result of the constitutional monarchy. The Sheikh dreamed up the city as it is today- and transformed that dream into a reality. Italy has Berlusconi- who, in his own words stated, “I am absolutely sure to be the most democratic man to ever become Prime Minister in Italy.” (ANSA 2002) 

Dubai is a gem- something that has never existed in the middle east- a place of dreams. And Italy, alone, is home to 50% of the entire world’s artistic heritage. Italy is the birthplace of the Renaissance and Dubai is the birthplace of banking- with a Muslim twist.

Dubai is decadent- filled with imagination and desire. It’s a shell though- lacking foundation. Italy is anything but a shell- its layers penetrate deep with history, culture, philosophy and art. Dubai dazzles where Rome astounds. 

Being in Dubai, I had fun. I had forgotten what it was like to be around a diverse group of young professionals, moving and shaking in a society that they seem to be building together. In Rome, I arrived and promptly got the impression that I was invading a society- something deeply embedded that was already congested. I am trying, as hard as I can, to fashion my own place- to find an empty spot in the already cluttered terrain to set my roots down- and to be accepted into a society that seems to have shut its doors long before I was even born. Every day, I am learning how to be something more than the token American, or the foreign girlfriend. Because I know there is so much more of me to give- but it’s hard to furnish an identity when one’s role has already been defined. It's a challenge- and I will overcome it…at least, that's the way I’m looking at it. In Dubai, everyone seems to have a clean slate- and their values are solely dependent on what they accomplish while they are there. 

Ultimately, Dubai served as a reminder of a number of things- of my own identity, my past and my value. At the same time, it was a great time spent with great friends. Most importantly though, despite the small difficulties I have encountered through making my way in Italy- I quickly realized that I would choose Churches, fountains and the Tiber- over Mosques, malls and Sheikh Zayed Road. Any day of the week.

Puppy Love

I haven’t written for a while- not on the blog, not for myself and definitely not for anyone else. Not writing, in my world, is something that seldom occurs. Whether on crinkled paper napkins in sidewalk café’s or in any one of my various multicolor Moleskines- I’m always scribbling something or another.

These past few months however, I have found myself not wordless- but “assertionless.” I always have words- oftentimes far too many- but words that I deemed valuable enough to write down were few and far between. This lack of writing was set in motion as I read through past blog posts and began wondering how one goes from writing about being part of an MBA, about the future prospects of big jobs and changing the world- to writing about pumpkins. And it was at that point that I quietly vowed to stop writing- at least until I had something substantial to report.

Yet in my silence, I felt stifled- even gagged. It is writing that brings me clarity; it is writing that brings me peace. Without it, I become overwrought with emotions lacking an outlet- and burdened by the thoughts smothered by my own unwillingness to pick up a pen and attempt to make sense of everything.

I have begun to acknowledge that writing about pumpkins, for instance, isn’t wrong- and it isn’t irrelevant. The minor instances and events in our lives are only as important as we believe, or allow them to be. In lieu of beginning a long-winded philosophical discourse- I would like to say, and learn to believe- that my life is as significant as the next- whether I am making pumpkin casserole in the quiet of my home, studying the mechanics of business in a bustling city or working behind a desk towards something bigger than myself. It is possible that that which is most important is making people around me happy, enjoying, and trying to do as little harm to myself and others as humanly possible.

I also had a recent chat with a friend about the meaning of life- whether its procreation, living in harmony with nature, serving God or any number of God’s, searching for truth, or working towards the good old utilitarian “happiness principle,” I don't know- and I doubt I ever will. Personally, I lean towards the side of existentialism regarding free will, choice and personal responsibility. 

This life of mine- as I see it- is simply a result of the choices I make based on experiences, desires and beliefs. It’s grounded in arbitrary luck, chance and uncertainty. Taking into account all that we are given and all that that happens across in our paths- we have to make the most out of it. Enjoy. Dream- and then do our best to allow those dreams to become realities.  Yet that's a chat for another time…

So our minor accomplishments or experiences are only as important as we consider them to be. And for me, I crossed a major bridge the other day...(no, not blogging about pumpkins). In fact, I got my first puppy. For some, having a dog is a no-brainer- for others, it's a no-no. For me, it has been a fantasy since I was a child and my parents told me that I was too irresponsible to own a dog. Thus, I promised myself that as soon as I was older, and perhaps more responsible, I would get a dog. Then I got older- and with age, came my travelling. I embarked on a somewhat nomadic lifestyle from the time I was 18- where I didn't live in any city for any more than two and a half years. Therefore, owning a dog would have been unfair.

Now, however, I have a dog…my very own puppy. And for me, this is fairly significant. It’s like an unspoken affirmation to myself that I am happy enough where I am to know that I wont be picking up and leaving anytime soon. It’s a promise to myself that we (my puppy and I), are here to stay. Of course, one can never say never- but what I do know is that I am more settled in Rome- and my life in Rome, than I have ever been before.  And my puppy is a testament to that fact. So as unimportant pumpkin soup isn’t or as relevant as dog-ownership is, I know that there is something in my life that is changing- something inside myself that is growing- and that’s bigger than I could have imagined when I moved here six months ago.

It also doesn't hurt that he is the cutest puppy in the world…

Dudy