Last month, I went on an amazing trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Only a not so amazing thing happened at one of the hotels where I stayed. I went to bed after a night of tango dancing, and sometime circa 2 a.m., I woke up to what felt like a pin prick on my hand. “What the eff,” I thought, turning on the lamp by the bed. I saw that my hand was covered in a series of bug bites that were in precise, straight lines. Each had three bites—the telltale sign of bed bugs. I lifted up the sheet and—bam—there were two tiny bugs that looked like small, brown ticks. Gross, disgusting bed bugs! After a few minutes of freaking out, I calmly went to the desk and explained what was going on. The dude at the desk hardly seemed surprised—he offered to wash my clothes in hot water and book me a room at another hotel since there were no more open rooms.
I was terrified of bringing bed bugs home with me. Keep reading »
It’s been a while since we last chatted. Last time, I was saying farewell to my 365 Days in Paris blog. Ending the blog was a tough choice especially because so much good stuff was going on in my life—I’d finished up my first year in Paris, was heading onto the next, and had finally met an amazing guy, “Henri.” But I just had a feeling that because things were going well that it was time to live my life offline. I so enjoyed hearing your advice and comments each week, and was pleasantly surprised to hear from Amelia that some of you had actually been asking about me. Moi? I’m touched. So, here’s my update for you.
I’ll start with the end: I’m not in Paris anymore. Keep reading »
This love train continues to steamroll ahead, flattening my former single girl life in its path and chugging into serious couple territory. After only a month of living together, a few pre-planned events came to fruition all in the same week – getting our puppy, meeting his parents and escaping to the beach for our own spring break. Keep reading »
The worst part about the snowpocalypse was that no one was prepared for it. If I had known that Ed Westwick was going to be stranded at the airport in Iceland for 48 hours, I would have been waiting there to “entertain” him. But alas, the “Gossip Girl” bad boy “walked into the duty-free shop and bought a bottle of vodka.” Swoon. He was stranded when his flight to London got snowed in and according to a spy, “he looked like hell.” That’s my kind of hell. [NY Post]
But Westwick wasn’t the only celeb who got stranded in the snowpocalypse, catch the others after the jump! Keep reading »
I’m planning a big trip to Europe next summer. The only problem is that I am pretty much useless at planning anything more long term than a few hours from right now. So far I’ve saved a little money, written down a few goals, and that’s pretty much it. When I told my friend Lynn, a seasoned traveler, that I was having trouble getting started, she gave me a great tip… Keep reading »
If you live on the East Coast or are trying to travel to there, chances are you’re stranded at the airport at this very moment. Thank you, Snowpocalypse! I too was stranded at Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. Luckily, Mom and Dad bailed me out and now I’m just stranded at their house, but that’s another post. I made the very best of my time in airport exile — find out how you can too! Keep reading »
Indian weddings are beautiful. I missed my sister’s by just a few days. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to join her and her Canadian boyfriend in Goa, where I could complete my yoga training certificate in a country where men significantly outnumber women, or to stay home in the Brooklyn apartment I shared with four equally unemployed strangers, and where I was without a car, a boyfriend, or a shred of hope. I had to weigh my options, so I was a bit delayed.
That’s how I missed Leky’s lavish Hindu puja ceremony, where she wed a guy she had actually met years ago at a Buddhist monastery, and who she had run into again by chance half a decade later while she was tooling around India.
Their love is a beautiful story. Mine, not so much. Keep reading »
It’s become a reflex to knock the new TSA body scanning procedures, but I think this New Republic does it in the most creative way possible. It’s the Statue of Liberty, as you’ve never seen her. Keep reading »
I’ve said it a million times, but I’ll say it again: I love kids. But being stuck on a six-hour flight with a squalling toddler right behind me, killing my enjoyment of my millionth bag of peanuts and whatever crap movie is on, totally sucks. But is a screaming infant so annoying that I might pay extra for a seat on a child-free flight? Apparently, I might have the option, as some fliers are calling upon airlines to offer kid-free flights — or “family only” sections — so that their travel experience can be temper tantrum-free. Keep reading »