Live to Inspire

Writing Rockville

Our life was not supposed to be such a movie, not the kind that it turned into.  It started off as a light romantic comedy, but toward the end it had crossed over pretty cleanly into a surreal hallucinatory film based on the theories of Lacan.  But there were some good moments.  Everything has ups and downs, and beginnings and ends.  The beginning of this was spectacular, and the middle was perfectly coordinated to convince us both that we could rest now, that the dangerous part of the trip was well over, and this was the moment that we took a vacation to Rockville.  The hotel we had was perfectly organized, and had layers of charm and elegance that were worth writing home about.

In fact, writing was exactly what caused the end to come too quickly.  I would like this to be a story of how, like when a man loves a woman, her illness gets revealed in the second act, and then it’s about how I deal with it, and try to save her, and then learn that I can’t save her.  Because she must learn how to save herself.  And we would overcome our troubles and walk into the sunset, or maybe into the fog, depending on the time of year.  Some sunsets there were better than others, is all I’m going to say.  The town looked beautiful, charming, and interesting.  It would have been nice to have explored it a little.

When we arrived, however, we saw that there were some postcards in the room.  I decided I would write to my family back home.  It seemed like a sweet gesture.  Some people have it, and some people don’t, and apparently I’m in the category that does have it.  When I sat down to write the first one, it felt fine.  But so fine.  Enough that I thought I should write my brother.  And then my best friend.  Some people can’t stop writing because they have a lot to say, because they love to write.  Some people can’t because they just can’t . It’s a disorder, for sure.  We left and I had to get to a stationery place, but there was only the gift shop, so I stopped there for 10 more and we went to get a coffee, and I wrote the whole time, and even bought their cards.  By the end of that night, I had 150 done and the same amount to go.  Long story short, she left, and I’m still here, still writing.  You might be getting a postcard soon.

Mothers trees in Mallorca

It’s been 5 years since my mother passed on, but I am currently keeping my promise to her. When she was travelling through Spain and her most favorite place to visit was Mallorca. She told me it was the trees that captured her heart the most. She made me promise to travel to Mallorca and make a study, (botanical drawings) of her two most favorite trees. the Yew and the Linden.

I’m a little late, but at least I am honoring her request. I booked a week at one of the 5 Star Hotels Mallorca offers thinking this would give me enough time to render drawings of her two most beloved trees. In order to do draw a true study, rendering I needed to do some research. The Yew, I found out is a perennial tree. It has needle-like leaves, and is very hardy. It’s only found in the high mountains of Mallorca where it’s cooler. I notice that most of the Yews I found were young trees, maybe 16 years old at the most. When I asked some locals, they told me that I could find a very only Yew in La Granja, Esporles, which they told me is around 2 thousand years old. Upon some more research, the Yew a dioecius tree: a single sex species. The female tree will produce red berries, which are not edible and especially not pleasant. The male tree produces no fruit. The tree is sometimes harvested for its taxine and wood. The taxine because of its alkaloid poison which is being studied as a useful pharmaceutical and the wood for cabinetry.

The Linden is a lime tree, and is well over a hundred years old. Mostly found in Gardens and not in the wild. In the winter is loses it’s leaves and in the summer it produces flowers used by the locals to make a splendid herbal tea as a remedy for a nervous condition or for people with insomnia. The Linden, even without its leaves looks majestic, it’s immense size alone conjures one to be at peace and serene. I can see why my mother fell in love with both trees. I have fallen in love with them also. My mother was right.

The Garden of Saheliyon Ki Bari, Udaipur, India

There are many different destinations throughout the city of Udaipur that are beautiful, exquisite and breathtaking.  One such attraction that many will find promoted in their Udaipur, India hotel, is the Garden of Saheliyon Ki Bari.  This is one of the most incredible gardens of the world.  There is sculpture carved in marble located throughout the green lawns and lush landscaping and the many fountains.  The translation of the title means in English, the Garden of the Maids.  Located on the Fateh Sagar Lake (shore, this is a retreat for those living in the city and visiting as well, an oasis that contrasts with the sometimes hot and dusty streets of the city.  It was constructed in the 1,700’s by the Maharana Sangram Singh, in order for the women of the royal court to have the beauty surrounding and honoring them.

As the story goes, the king was the designer of the garden, and he presented to the queen and her forty eight maid-servants.  He designed it not only for his bride, but for all of the maids, for them to have a destination located away from, and not resembling the chaotic and tedious nature of politics.  This become a very popular spot for the women to retreat to for relaxation, for walks and girl-talk.  This is how the garden found its name.  The architecture is superb and takes one’s breath away.  There are along with the many fountains, pools of water, sculptures of elephants, and carved kiosk sculptures.  There are an abundance of flowers gardens and the romantic and serene fell of the garden is something everyone traveling through should experience.

The king continued to add to the garden over the years.  He designed a series of fountains that rain down instead of bubble up.  His idea behind the fountains were that they resemble the forms of rain and the maids dancing together.  The kings have enjoyed the garden through the years, and it was just as popular and loved by the men as it was for the women for whom it was originally built.  More fountains were added, some imported from Great Britain run along the main paths of the garden.   There is a museum as well, that houses a collection of items and articles from the royal palace.  There are portraits of the different kings as well as taxidermy stuffed specimens of tigers, cobras and other fierce creatures.  This is truly one of the most picturesque locations in the city.

Almost undescrible Ibiza

I find Ibiza is easy to love but hard to describe. Is not easy to put into exact terms what is Ibizan. Not because of its charms, but because there is simply too much to tell. For instance, Ibizan architecture, yes it is simple and white, an pristine white by which the Ibiza call the ‘white island. The whitewashed walls are not only in every house, but in every church. On occasion they do appear naked showing the stone directly underneath. Ibizan’s have whitewashing down to an artform, a meditative practice, if you will. One of my attendants at the 5 Star Hotel Ibiza where I was staying mentioned that the whitewashed wall are concerning the Punic epoch; a whole other story within itself. One I’ll need to investigate it’s mysteries.

Another indescribable aspect about Ibiza, is there are too many revelations to do it justice. Every time I come here, Ibiza offers at my feet, new delights, such as perfect sunsets every day, an amazing amount of tantalizing restaurants with breathtaking vistas. One of my most favorite spots is Es Broll. I manage to drive there every trip, through the lush heart of the island, past a cute cafe’s of Santa Gerturdis on toward the hamlet of Santa Agnes. I miss the left hand turn everytime, it’s small sign is easy to miss, but as I’m not in a hurry, a drive on until I can make a safe turn around and finally make it to EsBroll. It’s a fresh water spring, well here’s where words are inadequate, it’s more precious than diamonds. As I descend along the snake road, it’s history reveals itself and I’m whisked away and become a part of the glossy leaved citrus trees, the dusky olive trees and the richness of the red soil. The Moor’s turned this wealthy fresh water spring into irrigation trenches that seem to flow through history. Ibiza has many other spots that will unfold and reveal their magic, but for now, I’m at peace when I’m here.

Raining in Mallorca

Our Mallorca trip finally came to an end this month. It was a sheer 20 days of rain, joy, carnage and pain. Oh, and a bunch of other ‘things’ that went down. Our entire family was on this trip: Mom, Dad, Sissy, dorko the brother and of course me. We also had some friends, who were also travelling staying at nearby 4 Star Hotels Mallorca offers. We would either drop by to see them or visa-versa. That’s not an easy accomplishment since our itinerary’s were completely different, but somehow we managed.

There is a tremendous amount of words that could sum up the trip, but the ones that stand out the most are: amazing spots, rain, villa, motorbikes, rain, guitars, cute girls and more rain. The trip was 20 days long, but that included our ‘travel’ days. Basically, there were really only 17 days, with no flights involved. Seems like a lot, but not when it’s raining for 8 of those days! The locals we hooked up with for fun spots said that it never rains like how much rain we were experiencing in Mallorca. They said that maybe over a 16-day period at that time of the year it would rain two times, but never 4 days in a row, like what we were experiencing. The only thing positive that can be said about the poor weather is that when the sun did come out, everyone was amped. We went and did everything we could like we were on speed. I went skating at our first spot and the rest of my family went shopping or hung out at the beach.

As I mentioned, it rain way too much. My dorko brother’s antics was to rent two motorbikes within a span of four days, and we had to ride them in the rain and it was a cold rain. We weren’t sure he was going to make it one night. The villa, a massive piece of land which had two houses on it, that accommodated sixteen, we ran in to some more travelling friends which we shared the two houses. I wouldn’t have thought that a small island like that would have had much stuff, but it did during the day, there wasn’t much of a nightlife. We were there off-season so at night the villa turns into a ghost town. Despite the rain and all, the villa turned out to be the bests part of our trip. Spain is beautiful no matter if you’re on the mainland or on one of its few islands. We went to some pretty scenic places, truly beautiful. I felt like I could fall off the side of the Earth!

DJ MoCity

Travelers looking for five-star hotels in New Dehli will no doubt find the same things here that characterize this vibrant and exciting city.  A splendid mix of old-world hospitality with new world technology and style, the hotels offer a host of details that are enticing and exquisitely tasteful.  The city is among the longest continually-inhabited places on earth, and the hotels reflect the same sense of history and grace.  The place you lay your head should be rejuvenating and refreshing, and these hotels will give you exactly what you are looking for.

While you are in the city, there are a myriad of possibilities for interesting and fascinating adventures.  A barrage of cultures and languages, the human drama plays itself out here on the streets every day, and invents complicated and wonderful rhythms at night.  There is a tremendous local culture here, but the global culture is also making a glorious stomp.  World travelers looking for evidence of global hiphop rhythms in Delhi will find some amazing new talents to add to the international menu.  In Delhi, one of the most exciting young talents is DJ MoCity.  Mohammed Abood was born in Baghdad, but raised here, and his unique stylings reflect the place, along with his national roots.

He works with the intention of bringing diverse audiences together, entertaining the locals along with the expatriate communities, and his rhythms are samplings of U.S. hiphop culture with generous mixtures of Indian and Arab musical styles.  He plays widely in New Delhi, promoting variations of the hiphop mainstay, the block party.  Their shows are an explosion of sound and fashion, street smart and with an urban sophistication, and are excellent ways to discover some of the more local variations of global music culture.  With one eye on developing his skills as a performer, and the other on developing his skills as a producer, DJ MoCity is creating a phenomena out of his complex image.

Goa: The Cause of most Divorces is Marriage

I read on someones t-shirt when I was laying poolside at a Goa Resort spa on our honeymoon, ‘The Cause of Divorce is Marriage”.  That made me laugh out loud and I looked over to my husband at the time, to see if he enjoyed that statement as much as I did and he didn’t seem to appreciate my sense of humor. He said marriage is sacred and should not be made fun of in any form. Needless to say, our sacred marriage only last 2 years. I look back at the day he made that statement and I wondered to myself how on earth could I have married someone with no sense of humor?

I’m now on my Third honeymoon with my third husband sitting at the restaurant in Goa when we couldn’t help but over-hear a younger couple sitting next to us having an heated hushed argument over whether or not he should order the surf-n-turf because, from what me and my new husband could over-hear, the young man’s doctor had told him to cut out all rich foods in order to keep his diabetes in check. The young wife was giving him a list as to why her husband should not order the Lobster and he was giving her a list as to why her opinion of what he can and cannot order doesn’t matter to him. “Whoa”, I said under my breath, “that was a nasty thing to say”. My husband just gave me a look of surprise, “She has no right to tell him what he can and cannot eat”, he said under his breath and gave me a look that I’d better not contradict his statement.

I’m single now and have come to the conclusion that marriage isn’t all that’s it’s cracked up to be, it isn’t all ‘that’. And to be truthful, I’m finding being single living in Goa and being able to just enjoy the men I now date, with no expectations of future commitments to each other, to be quite fun. More fun than marriage.

Wet Texting

I was waiting to catch a taxi cab while standing under an awning to get out of the rain when my cell beeped notifying me I had a text message. If was my ex-boyfriend wanting to know if I knew which were the better Five Star Singapore Hotels he could stay at during his honeymoon. I used to live in Singapore a few years back and I really miss living there. I used to be in love with my ex-boyfriend a few months back and I don’t really miss him. Not ever since he got married to a woman he’d been seeing behind my back.

I managed to catch a taxi and take it too downtown to meet up with my Literary Agent, Mary, to discuss my second book. The taxi pulled up to the Essex Restaurant, I looked it up before I left my hotel room and dress appropriately, my best Ann Taylor Suit, which is now drenched and ruined from the downpour. I didn’t know it was going to rain today, so I didn’t bring an umbrella. Running from the taxi to the entrance didn’t keep my suit from getting even more wet and ruined. Not being from New York, I also didn’t know how hard it was to catch a taxi in the rain. I didn’t know how hard it was to be here alone it was. So, I was not only very late for my lunch date with my Literary agent, I was a very late sopping wet emotional mess.

Sorry, I said to Mary has I sat down crying and still dripping water on the carpet of the restaurant even after using the hot-air hand drier in the ladies restroom. Mary just laughed and apologized to me for not sending a personal car to pick me up from my hotel. She proceeded to make the waitstaff bring me extra napkins to dry me off and a hot chocolate to warm me up. Nice, I thought as my cell phone buzzed again with a text message. It was him again saying he and his wife would really appreciate any help I could offer about his trip to Singapore. I asked Mary to get me a vodka instead and to just let me drip.

Boy Crazy

I remember one summer, I was working with my best girlfriend for a Five Star Hotels Singapore, when we were sixteen and we’d run errands for the hotels. I loved this job because I would run into all kinds of cute boys and I would instantly fall in love with all of them. My girlfriend didn’t understand it and would do her best to try find us another place to work; a place where I wouldn’t run into so many boys. I told her that I wouldn’t follow her to that other job because I like the fact there are so many boys here. She told me my obsession with boys is unhealthy. She sited the one time I fell very hard, very hard for a boy and I guess I’m still down and depressed.  My best girlfriend really cares about me, but she told me if I keep up with being boy crazy that she will stop being my friend, not because she doesn’t love me, but because she can’t stand me being hurt by every guy I meet.

I told her falling hard and fast is exhilarating and scary at the same time. I love that first initial thrill of finding out if he’s ‘The One‘. I told her  people who spend too much time analyzing what’s going on and playing it safe sucks. It takes all the romance out of it. She told me there’s a big difference between being swept up and feeling completely out of control. She told me to ask myself if my new love interest would ask me to do something I’m uncomfortable with, like going to a dicey-looking club on my second date, a place that she knows I’m extremely uncomfortable with, would I voice my reservations or would I sweep my reservations under the rug to avoid ruining the moment. She used a one of my real life experience to make her point. She told me that I sweep my true feelings under the rug all the time because I’m venerable and have no self esteem. That I’d rather throw myself under the rug because of my addiction to the thrill with the idea of being in a whirlwind romance. She told me that isn’t how to create a long-term relationship. I told her she’s just jealous because I’m prettier than her.

That summer, I lost my best girlfriend. I think about her all the time, wondering how’s she’s doing. Today, I’m still single, still boy crazy and still miserable. Her words of wisdom are finally making sense to me. It took me over a decade to finally realize what she was saying and it took me too many heart breaks. I now see how stupid I really am and see she wasn’t jealous, but that she loved me. I miss her.