There's been a lot of weekend traveling happening in AS world! Between a quick trip to Virginia, a ride home, and a weekend in Washington DC, there have been so many road trip memories made, laughs had, and bonding happening during hours spent in the passenger seat.
DC, as many of you know, has the famous cherry blossom festival that occurs toward the end of March. This year, because of the lovely onslaught of snow storms the east coast has had, the peak time for the flowers got pushed back to the first weekend in April.
Though we went a week early, it was still so worth it. While the rest of the events of the weekend will be recapped in painful (I kid. It was fun.) detail in my newsletter, Sunday was spent grabbing breakfast at the hotel, driving 40 miles from Leesburg to central DC and walking down Constitution Avenue, around the Washington Monument and down to the Tidal Basin.
The Washington Monument always makes me think of my childhood! When we were little, we made countless trips t...
Between social media, television, books and the general interconnectivity of the world, the rat race is an overwhelming notion. There are points of competition everywhere, even when you have no intention of comparing yourself to the successes of someone else. It's impossible for it not to seep into your mind. Sometimes, the comparisons make one feel like they've lost a game they didn't know they were playing.
Then it's just a matter of slipping down the rabbit hole. Suddenly, all your choices are doubted and you wonder if every decision you've made is wrong.
Fear not. There are ways to escape that haze and regain the clarity required to continue forward on your own unique path.
I hope all of you had a wondrous Christmas (if you celebrate!) and if you didn't, I hope your days off were filled with good food, lots of love and plenty of laughs! As the year pulls to a close, I think everyone reflects on the highs and lows of the year. 2017 was a doozy. Outside of the national dumpster fire we all witnessed (anyone else feel like they need a glass of wine...or a bottle, to read the news?), on a personal note for me, it was a year of so many peaks and troughs.
Travel: The year started in an ashram! I was in the middle of Amma's ashram in Kerala and it was a really peaceful place. I went to Florida with my friends in March. I moved to New York. I visited Montreal on a bachelorette party. I flew to Edinburgh for a long weekend. It was a beautiful year for seeing more of the world and expanding horizons.
A Big Move: In high school, I was so certain I'd live in New York City. But as time went on, the fear of the unknown and the "bigness" of the city became daunting....
"A woman's heart is an ocean of secrets." Thank you, Rose from Titanic, you're 100% correct--and like a woman's heart, her bag is key to how she rules the world during a hectic day. Here are some ideas for those crazed days where you're sprinting around and your bag holds your entire life...
This is a gamechanger. In a tiny kit the size of your palm fits 17--count them, 17!--essentials from a mending kit, to a teeny hair spray, to earring backs...It is astounding and so necessary to have these things when you're in a bind and this kit has saved my butt on numerous occasions from when my tights ripped (hello, clear nail polish!) to fixing a wardrobe malfunction (double-sided tape, anyone?)
Does anyone else find themselves on the run and unable to pause to find a power outlet? All. The. Time. In that case, carrying a phone charger just isn't going to fly. In comes the power bank to save your butt! While weights and...
I was 9. My grandfather used to sit on the steps in the front of the house sometimes in his retirement and joke with passerby and the inevitable visitors who would stop to say a quick hello but end up staying for dinner. He and my father had gone out so I had decided to imitate him in his spot, waiting for them to arrive.
It was the middle of summer and the small cement ramp that allowed us to bring my uncle's motorcycle up the steps into the courtyard of our property was cool in the evening sun, and served as a fantastic slide for my little body.
As I sat, a man rolled up on his scooter. It was beige--one of those Vespa types--and since we're in mid-1990s India, probably a Bajaj. He lifted a small bottle to his lips. Then through a hole in his pants, he brought out what I (in my mature age) now refer to as a 'dangle' and began playing with himself.
I remember staring at him with a frown on my face, unphased and challenging him. He fumbled for a bit, likely drunk, then drove the bike to t...