You know how I always say, I’m a writer, not a blogger? Yeah, it just makes me feel better about my infrequent posts on this site, because I do have guilt about this Apron Anxiety universe which I love, which I consider the core of all good things, which I should be more affectionate, or at least flirtatious, towards…
In my defense (haha), I haven’t exactly been living under a rock — just a hut in Sri Lanka, a ranch in Malibu, and an 8th floor walk-up in Paris w/ two Tunisian strangers and their cigs & couscous. Point is, I’m around! And hell yes, I feel crazy lucky making a living listening/writing the true stories of chefs, shamans, nymphos and heroes all over the world . . . Like. Whoah.
For New York Mag, there was the amazing tale of Maggie Todd, who lost her hand in a jet-ski accident then found her inner-spirit at Per Se. Plus two sorority sisters in love, a Financial Dominatrix named Goddess Nia (READ IT everyone), a bunch of brutal breakup sagas, and some sweet food diaries.
For Bon Appétit magazine, I interviewed an Olsen, Seth Meyers, Kate & Andy Spade, a mystery champion athlete, and of course, Kelly Wearstler. I’ll let you google that one. On the record - my feeling about the outrage, or whatever, is (as always) LIVE & LET LIVE! Jesus!
In runaway news: Over the next few weeks I’m heading to Zurich, Gstaad, London (Paris for a night - if Ikbal ‘n Muhammad will have me back), Chile, then….I don’t know!! I don’t even want to know! Life will surprise me with something.
My week at the Malibu Ranch was extraordinary. It’s not at all the la-la-la luxe retreat you might think. Can’t say much until the story is published, but gotta say, those long, killer hikes, hours and hours alone in the woods with your true self, it changes you. Three words: Recovering Your Innocence.
Andddd less intense…I’m currently making almond brown rice pudding! Might bake a lemon marshmallow pie… classy riff on Fluff. BTW I wanted to call the second book Fluff (everyone said to forget it - i.e. no fun!). Anyway, need a break from my usual eats, as my blood-type is officially: Kale.
I’ll end here. Life is pretty good. My family is happy and healthy; my friends still love me even though I keep leaving the country on their kids’ birthdays. I’m dating, spinning, sleeping in peace. If someone stresses me out, I practice my mantra from Malibu, “Love them, love them, love them — then send them back on their journey.” Ahhh, so good!
My second book, not called Fluff, is all I can think about, yet there’s barely one word written. Well, maybe one word, and it’s a dirty, delicious swear made for downtown girls not Downton Abbey (another obsession, for another time).
Love you guys.