Adieu 2008, Salut 2009!

Ending 2008 was the biggest event of that year for me. Unemployed more than a year, accepting life on life terms had been extremely difficult. Working had been more than a job, it was my identify card that without it, gave me anxiety and the kind of self-consciousness that breeds insecurity and unworthiness about being. Suddenly, I was embarrassed to be alive without work --the insidious shame began creeping into the core of my psyche since it already had a field day with my body. Sciatic and back pain, psoriasis and other bodily ailments were symptoms of how shame was winning the day. If it weren't for my partner who has been the most supportive person in my life, I would have left Los Angeles and sought the comfort of my family, who love me more than I know. Family is better than chicken soup, they comfort you unconditionally. Or at least, some of my family members really do.

So we had planned a NY trip for the holidays. On the way to the airport, I was excited to be seeing old friends, walking a white Central Park, visiting St. John the Divine on Xmas Eve and going to the Marlene Dumas exhibit. But lo and behold, at the security counter, I protested with my license when I was asked for my passport, "...but I am only going to NY". The airport security guard said, "No you're not..." My partner pulled out my passport, "she is right...". Like a SURPRISED-MONKEY, I first did not know what to say but then an overwhelming feeling of Joy forced me to jump, as I realized we were off to London and then Paris. What a perfect way to end the year, in the luminous city where I studied Baudelaire and other great French poets.


Flying Virgin Atlantic on the airbus in the Upper Class makes 11+ horrible hours seemed pleasant enough. The service was optimal, the interior of the plane also was incredibly comfortable --especially when the seats turn into beds. Now getting through Heathrow will forever be a nuisance --why can that airport be remodeled? But arriving at the Soho Hotel and breathing in the London air was the beginning of a perfect vacation. (Notice how many "perfect" will pop up.)


That night we had the amazing opportunity to see "Piaf," a musical about Edif Piaf's life. What a "perfect" precursor to the city of lights. The performances were top caliber, especially the lead, an Argentine wonderactress and her co-lead, Luke Evans, the next Clark Gables of our time...Every second of that musical was magical along with the Vaudeville theater's interior. It transport anyone to a time when theater was an artform: important, smart, fun and beautiful. It would be great if NY City had more Off-Broadway intimate musicals.


When we got to Paris, everything was more: the hotel, Pavillon de la Reine (at Place the Vosges,) the Seine, the Pont Neuf, the Notre Dame, the Hotel de Ville, Hermes, Victor Hugo cafe, the lit Ferris wheel at Place de la Concorde, the Breguet Museum, St. Germain des Pres, Rue Raspail, Pre Catalan and the restaurants (especially the Capon dinner,) the long walks along the quai with the cold Parisian wind caressing my face, the art of being elegantly dressed for the ballet at the Paris Opera, the croissants and the love for those same things mentioned that my partner also experienced. It was heaven, not quite sure why, but it filled me. Especially at night: the lights everywhere against a velvet blue sky, the search beam on top of Tour Eiffel, piercing through the night, highlighted the elegance and greatness of Paris.


Paris four times a year will be "perfect" in 2009...although London is a powerful city, nothing like the sound of Joyeux Noel or Bon Nuit from the English concierge at Pavillon de la Reine when ending a Parisian day.