San Diego...or is it Saint Deiago?

I just returned from a quick trip to the west coast for a visit with my favorite brother Brian (don't worry, I'm not offending anyone here, I only have on brother). After his wreck last week (see Whoop Ass post below) I was eager to see Brian and give him hell. It was a nice mellow trip to SD, including a jog along the beach, a nice night out in La Jolla (including an entertaining comedy show), a swim in Bri's new pool, a trip to Target and Sam's club (it's amazing how much fun shopping can be when you think you're in the land of cheap merchandise), a quick photo shoot at Oceanside Harbor, a night out with Aaron and Jenny (the best staple in SD), brunch with Lorrie, Johnathan and my new nephew Theo. Well, not that I've jotted it all down, it seems like a I might have taken my bro out for a bit of a wild weekend just a few days after his release from the hospital. Oh well, it seems like he had a good time too. Photos below.



Fun times at Oceanside Harbor (above and below)



My friends, the pirate and the mermaid.



Brian's new pad in Vista, CA.






Me and Theo, just hanging.



Bri and Jen at the Calyso.

Whoop Ass

I wasn't sure what to title this entry --'best week ever' or 'worst week ever' - so I went with 'whoop ass' which could really be either. Either way, the week opened a can of whoop ass on my and sent me through a series of emotions and physical reactions I haven't encountered in quite some time.

The whirl wind of activities that took place between Monday and Sunday may have been reasonable had they been spaced out by weeks, or months, based on their close proximity to my recent camping trip of 'discovery' (see posting below: How Shane Huggins saved my life).

I suppose my week started off somewhere between average to good with the return of a good friend from Australia, the purchase of a flight to San Diego for the near future, and a beautiful 70 degree day which we celebrated with a jog through the Park. Tuesday and Wednesday also past with reasonable emotional highs and lows (such is the glory of working at KCSA). Tuesday, we visited Company (our newest favorite fancy pizza place in Chelsea) with Davina -- who just returned from Oz -- and Katie -- in for a visit from LA. Wednesday, after I treated myself to a haircut, Jerome, Skye and I went to Patsey's, my favorite traditional pizza place in the Upper West Side. Thursday rolled around and work became a series of emotional struggles and trials. Thursday night, in an effort to release the steam that built up in an atmosphere fit for an animal of prey, we enjoyed a series of favorite spots including Kettle of Fish, Cafe Nior, Ace and a break at a sports bar for the Laker's first game in the Finals. The week, both in and out of work was bursting at the seams and counteractive, which I tend to overdo if I'm not finding the fulfillment I crave from my day job.

Friday, after pulling myself out of bed calling in for a mental health day we took on MOMA, before moving on to eating and drinking our way across the city. Our good friends Molly and Marvin's friend Jim opened an amazing new restaurant/bar called Jo's in SOHO which we celebrated with a few glasses of wine and several ohhh's and ahhh's (please check it out if you're in the area, it's truly amazing). We found a happy hour fit for our mood and tied one on at East Side Company. From there, we discovered a new Lower East Side hang out called Beast and danced the rest of the night away.

Saturday, on our way to the Renegade Fair I got a voicemail that brother Brian had crashed his motorcycle and was in the hospital. Although he left me the voicemail on Friday, I didn't receive it till I exited the subway on Saturday which made me bash my blackberry against the wall several times. Based on his message, he had taken a serious spill on a corner and hit a guard rail in the process. Although he began his message with, "Not to freak you out," I freaked out. My brother is a blast to be around, and lives life the way I have always aspired to. He's my rock, my best friend, and whenever he takes his adventurous side to far, and gets hurt, I always freak out. I called all of his friends in San Diego to find out which hospital he was in and how I could get a hold of him (which he conveniently left out of his voicemail). I hunted down my parents at their friends house and inquired about his status and finally I spoke with him. Turns out he broke 4 ribs, lacerated his liver, and did some damage to his adrenal gland and lungs.

I'm sure he had to describe me to his friends visiting him in the hospital as the pestering sister, but I called his room at least 4 times over the course of the evening....every time I thought of something that could make him laugh.

Sunday includes lots of back and forth with family and friends. Trying to fill-in and hear more about Brian's condition. I bumped my San Diego trip up a day and began to pack until exhaustion took over.

How Shane Huggins Saved my Life...

As a lover of wide open spaces, and the great outdoors I have grown to understand it's seductive effect on me. The almost instantaneous hyperventilation that comes with the taste of clean, fresh air and the involuntary skip in my step that comes with crunching pine needles and cones under-foot has always been a part of who I am. Sometimes, as per this weekend, I forget about the dangers and obvious risks of the outdoors and allow myself to be lured in by nature's intoxicating smells, visuals and overall fresh feeling.


But, I guess everyone needs a reminder about our real order in the food chain (clearly, we are floating somewhere in the middle - not at the top, as so many like to believe). Through a fairly ordinary list of circumstances, I learned a very real, and scary lesson this weekend.


Camping in the Adirondacks with Erick and Belinda had been in the plans for a few weeks, so the excitement was built-up to a crescendo by Friday afternoon, when we departed for our 5 hour drive north. After a fairly relaxing drive, we entered our campsite at Putnam Pond around 9 p.m. and set up camp a safe distance from our neighbors. After building up a fire and pouring a drink we sat back and relaxed for the night.


The next morning we rose a couple hours after the sun did, and Jerome and I took the opportunity to check out the campgrounds a bit. The serene Putnam Pond, which was actually much more lake sized, was walled in by peaked mountains and pine trees. The area we were staying in offered campers the chance to rent rowboats or canoes for the day, which we decided would be a great Sunday activity. Saturday, we thought, was a perfect day for camping, with the slightly overcast sky and cool air, it seemed like a perfect day to work up a sweat. So, we strolled over to the front office to gather trail maps and trekking ideas and went back to camp to lace-up and head out. Erick, Belinda, Jerome and I picked a 7-mile loop-path that would bring us back to camp in a few short hours. We packed a single backpack, with a few pieces of fruit, two small bags of trail mix, raincoats, and swimsuits (just-in-case the mood stuck). We each carried our nalgene bottles of fresh water with us.





The path started off smooth, and took us past several small, quite lakes, and very few people. The further we ventured on the more remote the terrain became and the more enthusiastic we all became (isn't this the reason we leave the city!). We had all begun to work up a serious sweat and become expert trail-runners by the time we decided to take a second look at the map. We faced an interesting decision. It was already 4 p.m. and we could turn-back to return to camp in the next 2 hours, or we could press on and try to finish up our original loop which had somehow grown to another 6-miles. All eager to continue our hike, we decided to press on, and pick-up the pace so we could cover 2-3 miles per hour.






We began trail-running, up hills, and showing off our NYC walking techniques through heavily wooded areas and steep cliffs. At 6 p.m. we began seriously rationing our water, just in case we had more than an hour of hiking left. Around 7 p.m. we started wondering which corner our campsite would pop around, and we vaguely discussed how we were beginning to loose the sunlight. We had run our of water, but still had a few pieces of fruit which we were sure we wouldn't need.

At 8 p.m. all gathered around the map, and discovered that we had made a serious, wrong turn a few hours earlier and had simply been circling a single lake for the last 2 hours (not a series of lakes, as it appeared from the trail). In order to keep our energy up for the hike back, we decided to make a dent in our fruit, and left ourselves a single apple. By 8:30 we were loosing almost all our our sunlight and we decided to head back to the last place we saw a person (in a Lean-To next to the lake) about an hour and a half back. At 9:30, after a walk/jog at breakneck speed we made it to Shane Huggin's Lean-To who was sleeping with two of his friends for the night. His dog, Getereck, gave us a solid growl and backed down after Shane popped up to ask what was up. We told him where we were trying to hike to, and showed him our map. Once he realized we were going to try the 8-mile journey back, in the dark, without a light he pulled his boots on and told us he'd show us the way.

The two small lights and heavily wooded path we took made the journey difficult to say the least. And, after hiking and running for over 9 hours, we did our best to keep up with Shane and Getereck. We followed Shane, into the deep woods, past marshes, through rivers, over hilltops (which did not show our campground), fallen trees, and boulders for an hour and a half before he turned to us to offer another option. Unsure of how much further the rugged path was going to take, before leading us to our campground he offered a single blanket and the safety of his Lead-to to our group, knowing nothing about us. Going on 11 hours and 20 miles of hiking we had all gone into survival mode and safety sounded like the best available option. So, we desperately searched for drinkable water (stream water, which looked much better than the heavily mossed lake water) and turned back towards Shane's camp. At least 20 times, we lost the path, slammed into trees, tripped over boulders, or sunk into marshy swamps, and slowly felt our bodies break down. For his kindness and easy-going woodsy-nature I did my best to keep the conversation going with Shane. Growing up 30 minutes away, he knew these woods well but didn't take risks on hypothermia, bears or traveling without clean water....all of which he was concerned about now. His youth rarely showed through, as his curls began to recoil, soaking through with sweat from our intense night-hike.

Our concern began to grown again around 11 p.m. in the pitch-black of night as we tried to find our way back. We all shouted out obstacles in the path before our our next trail-mate was set to hit in and turned to check on eachoter as much as possible. We finally arrived back at Shane's Lean-to around midnight and took his offer for clean socks. Our water supply had diminished again and we each took a handful of trail mix with our last sips. Shane pushed his two sleeping friend over to the corner and offered us his dog's blanket to share for the night. We took off our shoes to survey the damage, including blood blisters, numb toes, and bleeding toe-nails The four of us huddled together, keeping all our clothing and coats on for warmth. We slept about 30 minutes each, regularly adjusting on the logs to relive the pain on our hips, back or butt, depending on our position. Unsurprisingly, we all woke very early and took a look at Shane's real trail map to find our way back. Getereck, who forgot who we were overnight, began growling at us again and reclaimed his blanket. The rain began to fall as we squeezed our feet and aching legs back into our shoes.

The night before, while discussing how far the closest roads were, Shane mentioned the 4.5 mile hike he had back to his car. This morning, we were not to bold to ask if he could drive us back to our camp from his car. After iimpossing on his entire trip to Pharaoh Lake, he happily agreed, offering us more of his diminishing water supply. We painfully hiked the last 4.5 miles out to the car, happy we were had an ending point. Once we were in Shane's fairly new Volvo we breathed a big sigh of relief as he told us stories about the hundreds of hikers who go missing every summer - due to poor maps, weather or supplies. As calm as each of us were, we all knew we could have had a much harsher night, and had to deal with wounds far worse than blisters and torn muscles.

We paid Shane with all the cash we had on us when we arrived back at our campground around noon on Sunday. Sunday afternoon consisted of around 100 steps (primarily to and from the bathroom and shower), three full meals, beer and a few photos of the pond. Feeling lucky for being able to enjoy it all the while....thanks to Shane from Saratoga.

Florence/Firenze

Traveling into Florence was like traveling back in time, with a little less patience for small sidewalks, a little more money for luxury meals and wines, and a lot more time to enjoy the view. It was an amazing experience to feel like I was re-experiencing a new culture without feeling lost or confused about my surroundings. It felt empowering to take on a city that felt new around ever corner, without ever feeling lost. As much as I am in love with Firenze, I'm in love with the time I spent there and falling in love...

To Italy and Back

Although I should probably allow the jet lag to wear off before I attempt to compose a note about my trip, I fear that my work week will consume me and erase my amazing memories before I have a chance to jot them all down. So, in no order in particular, here are some of my favorite moments and adventures in Italy...

A 20 person dinner at a classic Milan restaurant for Carlo's birthday. As traditional as it gets, a grandmother serves all the guests with prosciutto, bread and wine when they enter the restaurant then lists off the few menu items quickly. Before jotting down your menu selection she dashes across the room at least 10 different times to discuss items with the kitchen and then serves you with the same efficiency and speed....







An amazing trip to Florence including late night strolls by the Duomo, two sunsets at piazza Micheal Angelo, lunch at Trattoria Anita and my favorite Osteria near Via San Zanobi, dashes through the Uffici and David (Academia), a quick trip to school to visit Jane, and more vino than I thought I could drink...








More to come soon...

Italy...T-minus 7 days

Jerome and I are headed back to Italy to visit a friend in Milan and see how Florence has changed next week. I will begin my count-down here and will add one thing I'm dying to do, see or experience while I'm there per day.

Italy List:
Number 1 -

Trattoria Anita Lunch - The tiny reustuarnt across the street from Jerom's old apartment that serves the most amazing food, the best table wine and the best charaters in all of Florence.

Nashville - The Family Edition

My very kind friend Melissa decided to boldly go where no one has gone before. On spring break with me, my mom and her mom. Luckily, we were headed to her city, to take over for a few days so she didn't have to travel to far.

But, she did manage to show all of us all the tourist attractions, side shows, local favorites and even a brewery we'd never seen before. From the Carnton Historic Plantation, in Franklin TN where the Franklin Battle took place in 1864 (photo above) to the Jack Daniels distillery in Lynchburg, TN (a "dry county" is no place for a distillery or a Collins) we saw it all. We even sipped on fine California wine at Kix Brooks new TN winery with my old pal Jessie from High School. It was a blast, and won't be forgotten for quite some time (even if I have to burn the image of the band leader at Robert's Western world eyeing my mom).



Mom and I poising with Jack Daniele's at his distillery...




A little rocking chair fun after the JD tour...





An overly kind welcome to the city...




Melissa and the Mean Machine...

Restless

You know when you come down with a cold or a flu, and it keeps you bottled up in bed for a full day against your will? For some reason, it always makes me so restless. If I choose to spend a lazy day watching movies or cooking, it never evokes the same emotion as sick restlessness.

After a fun-filled Easter weekend, surrounded by friends, parties and good food I came down with the sniffles Monday morning. The sniffles were quickly followed by the aches and flu-like symptoms before I crawled back into bed at 6 pm. Today, after a morning on work on the couch and afternoon of naps on the couch I'm tempted to dash outside and breath in the NYC air. I'm not to sure what part of my brain has been mis-wired but I don't like to sit still for to long.

Perhaps I can use this time to hit up Duane Reede for some more TheraFlu....woooo hooo.

The 4-Day Weekend

I've always "burned the candle at both ends," as my father says. So, when the opportunity came up to take a 4-day weekend surrounding a planned trip to DC for the inauguration, I was hesitant to take it (after I had to call off my trip to DC due to Amtrack's lack of ability to hold my ticket for me). But, I have squeezed more fun and relaxation out of these last four days than I ever expected. Here is how I filled my days:

Saturday: Like a true vacation day I rolled out of bed, over to the gym, into the shower and on to the couch. I napped most of the afternoon while Jerome worked next to me. At night we treated ourselves to some amazing dinner and a light cocktail before resigning back to bed around 1 AM. Of course I could blame the bitter cold for my lazy day but I'd prefer to be honest and blame my laziness.

Sunday: Revived with far more sleep than the human body needs I was eager to get out into the snow on Sunday. So, Jerome and I meet Christine and her cousin Lindsey down in the West Village for some brunch. After some fine fruit and bloody Mary's at French Roast the girls separated from the pack to dine and drink our way through the day. We sipped on sangria to the DJ's beats at Cafe Nior and made friends with some folks from London in the music industry. We wandered through the snowy streets up to West Village to the Spotted Pig for some martinis and snacks (note: dirty martinis with calamata olive juice is a whole new world). Then, we carried on to the White Horse for the Stealer's game and some bizarre conversation with some cocky fashion bitches (and by bitches, I mean mean men with such massive egos and so little common sense that they become completely ridiculous conversationalist and jerks). Finishing off the night, we headed to the Art Bar where we ordered drinks and nachos while snuggling into a cozy couch. As most know, snuggle couches and drinks make me fall asleep....in true Andrea fashion I slept the entire cab ride home.

Monday: A day like any other in NYC - full of opportunity and life - presented itself to Davina and I (a rare holiday from the daily grind). We began our day ice skating in Bryant Park, surrounded by the historic buildings of midtown. As the snow began to fall and the ice skating rink filled up snow flakes Dee and I circled around bright orange cones and swam through children's knee pads and flaying arms. The Park was amazing and the rink was absolutely magical.
After a long walk through the East Village and Tompkins Sq. Park we had a Monday afternoon brunch (even if it was 3 PM, it was still eggs and coffee). Then, we headed off to the Russian/Turkish Bath house, which was a whole new NYC experience for me. A set of 5 steam rooms, connected by a tiled common area and cold pool, resounded with the European side of my being. Without caring about what I looked like in my bikini or who else had sat on the clean white tiles before me, I RELAXED. My muscles relaxed, my mind let go and I centred myself. It was incredible.
From there, we stubbled upon some amazing boutiques and a Japanese restaurant (Ippudo). Ippudo's wooden slatted walls and lounge-style seating provided enough comfort for me to profess my love for it - and that was before the food came. The cucumber salad, house udon and pork buns were a level above any others I've tried and made my taste buds dance in my mouth. After a viewing of Revolutionary Road, which depressed me to all hell and amazed me as an actor and theater lover, I headed uptown to grab a drink with Jerome and Emily before snuggling into bed.

Tuesday - Jerome took the day off and we watched the Inauguration in awe (see blog post below). Seeing Obama swore-in, and welcoming this time of change and restoration we felt elated and celebratory. In the hours of the day that were ours we wandered the city streets, drank in the local bars and invited friends over for our very own personal 'Brisket Sandwiches for Change' dinner.

Pride and Hope

Today was Obama's inauguration into presidency; which lead him to become the 44th President of the United States. I've never been more confident in our Country's future, despite the downturn in the economy and the relative crumbling of my fair city. As millions around the world watched, Obama addressed the American people and in true Presidential fashion set himself aside from the pack by poetically speaking TO the people about the hardships to come along our road to recovery. And, although it's been increasingly difficult for me to understand how this country, which is full of so many different opinions, cultures, and up bringing can pull together to accomplish any thing completely, he gave us all hope. So, as I complete my cheesy diatribe and head out the door to celebrate I feel comforted, revived and full of fight for our new President and administration.

Buenos Aires

BA is so full of life and energy! The city is a hybrid between Manhattan and Mexico City. We arrived here, again, yesterday and meet up with Brian in Plaza Serrano. So far we´ve discovered:

The cafes, with afordable glasses of wine cafe con leche´s are considered places for social gatherings and business meetings.

The restaurants, which fill up around 10 PM offer so much more than the affordable steaks and trout on their menus. Their easy going slow place also offers it´s dinners a small vacation from the busy outside streets.

We´re off to explor Recoleta and La Boca....more to come soon.

From BA to Mendoza

So far, I owe my wonderful trip to Dramimine (sp.) which knocked me out cold on the 11 hour plane ride to BA and again on the 12 hour bus ride to Mendoza. I´m currently locked in a internet cafe slash Subway sando shop with a group of on lookers who keep telling me to watch my bag....apparently I look like a tourist. It´s nice to be in a place I can experience something new everytime I move my eyes away from my computer screen.

Our day and night in BA was amazing. We stayed at a fantastic, small, hotel in Palermo called 248 Finesterra. The garden and sun deck were inviting, even if we didn´t have the opportunity to spend any time on either of them. We immediatly went out for lunch at a steak place down the street after we checked in and moved on with our day by wandering through the massive park, and Palermo (SOHO and Hollywood). I should be floating by now, based on the amount of cafe con leche´s I´ve drank but I simply can´t stop (not only are they good, they jolt my tired braincells awake). After a nap at the hotel, we headed out to dinner (again in Palermo SOHO) at a Brazilian place with the best Capprisha (sp.) I´ve ever had. Then, of course, we had to have a bottle of Malbec with our flan desert, which paired together made one of the most fantastic desert expereices ever.

Today we´re in Mendoza, which is far quiter and smaller. We´re deciding on a wine tour and trecking or horseback ridding tour for the next two days. We´re off to find Jerome a guitar so he can play in the garden of our hotel (the amazing Posada de Rosas with a huge room and kind care givers).


Missing you all with tired eyes.

Alternative Responses to the question, "how are you?"

Someone, at the offical Saints bar in manhattan (Bar None) gave me an honest response to the half-hearted question, "how are you," today and it made me think...what's the best way to answer that question? Here's some options off the top of my head:

I don't speak with strangers.

Every day outside of the cell is a great day!

The grout is back.

Do you want the honest answer or the polite answer?

I feel alone, and hopeless (then watch the interviewer's face).

Alrighty then (which I reserve for geeky conversations).

Fine and dandy (which is dangerous in the south).

Like the weather.

I'm fantastic/wonderful/amazing (or any other version of theses words you'd like to use to portay wonderfulness).

Fuzzy as a peach.

Spiffy!

What's your favorite reply?

My Tribute to Pam Hamilton

Pam Hamilton savored life and lived it with a hilarious zeal.

When she laughed she threw back her head and opened her mouth wide enough to let all the sound out.

She had a certain appreciation for girlfriends that I've always cerished.

I never saw Pam "get tired" of anything -- she simply joked her way past it.

She always had painted nails and astonishing jewelry.

She loved scotch and football (an awesome combo).

She threw themed superbowl parties every year and spent a full-day finding a rotating hot dog machine one year.

She cleaned her own gutters, which she usually waited until the dead of winter to do and had a special yellow rain outfit specifically picked out for the job.

She intimidated the hell out of most men who tried to cross her and simply couldn't see how anyone could be scared of her.

She had a bit of Clevland, NYC and Marin personality in each sentence she spoke.

She cracked me up.


Pam was my first real "boss" and introduced me to the wild world of PR (not to mention the insanity of working in front of a computer screen M-F). She remained in my life as a supporter, cheer leader and mentor. She passed away in Marin County, CA this morning and moved on to a pain-less, happier place.

Quote of the day...

"Damn brotha, you're as old as Yoda."

"I know Yoda, I kicked his ass last time I saw him."

-Overheard on the block of 122nd between Adam Clayton Powell and Fredrick Douglas.