CSI, BVI, TMI, FYI.. acronyms are fun in Virgin Gorda!

well, if you eventually get here. If you are like me and have bad travel luck (or just a double air sign), you'll most likely be stranded in Puerto Rico after forgetting your passport at home.

This is how I felt :(

But I guess it wasn't THAT bad.

After $200 on comfort food and a fedexed passport later, I finally made it to Virgin Gorda !

Biras Creek is a Relais & Chateaux property, completely removed from the other resorts, sprawled over 150 acres...it retains that "old school" caribbean beat (no lame-ass shit like bamboo (seriously? that's so not carib)) ... and they put me in a GRAND suite ($1,500 a night). I don't know why. why? I don't know. But this was my freestanding bathtub in a bathroom bigger than my apt with outdoor showers. how "eco chic"

oh and note my wrap around deck with private infiniti pool. Also note how dangerously close my cabin is to the shore ! old school indeed!

ah, the boys of summer. Jerzey (left) is the jack-0f-all-trades guy who works here, kendis (below right) is an anchor for Fox (ugh) and eddie was his bitch (video guy).

The Baths is one of those places listed as "1001 places to see before you die." i'm glad I did. otherwise and obviously i would die unhappy according to the book.


but seriously this shit was the shizzle off the cave dizzle. The Baths is a geological formation of large granite stones with a labyrinth of trails, pools, caves and such. It's really something else.

this is where you end up if you read the map right, goonies style.


seriously, eddie, really?

he's lucky he's cute (and a construction worker and part time fireman)!

jerzy is so OC meets Gossip Girls. I'll gossip his OC.

This was just a hot random aussie on the beach (staying at Richard branson's private island, $4800 per night!)
i got to drive some pretty butched-up go carts....

and maxed out the speed on my boston whaler.

while Eddie, who came out to snorkel with me, disappeared for a good 30 minutes. fucker. I'll still get you for giving me the panic attack and making me fuck up the whaler going over coral looking for your white ass, thinking you were dead. fucker !

denise, the fitness instructor, had me doing pilate, yogalates, pool-lates, kayakalates and other lates to offset the fatness i've become

because this was basically my trip (with food)

did i mention my private infiniti pool?

lake placid (or Why Can't You Be More Closer to the City)

As I write this, I'm eating left-over lasagna and fried calamari from Via Del Mille. This has nothing to do with my trip to Lake Placid last week for Columbus Day weekend. I had my impressions of "upstate." Clearly, I was so wrong !

The train ride goes through some amazing landscapes that you don't get driving a car. Thank god I woke up 5 1/2 hours into it.

My first hotel was Mirror Lake Inn on ... you guessed it!... Mirror Lake. This was the mighty view from my cabin.

The main cabin.

Main Street.

My main man's property on Lake Placid (CEO of sony, that fucker).

I took a boat trip on lake placid (keep in mind, this is NOT the lake placid from the movie Lake Placid, so there were no damn man-eating monster crocodiles to hunt for)

suck my dock.

this was my cabin at Lake Placid Lodge, a pretty sweet hideaway for celebs.

these were the two serbian housekeepers I had convinced to give me a full-body massage for an hour in my cabin (long story, and thanks guys!)

The exhaustive (but beautiful) train ride back. This bald guy was all like "ohmigod it's like so gorgeous"

psychics, vortexes and dead people in Arizona

because i'm on this (prognosticated: transient) kick to travel more domestically, i decided to head to the southwest, known for..well, nothing! and maybe fate was telling me not to go. after the nightmare trip getting there (delta would not let me board the plane, i had to buy a new ticket on united, car rental company had problems with my reservation when i landed and i finally got to the hotel at 3 am), i thought.. well mercury is in retrograde—grin and bare it.

after all, it was fucking gorgeous in scottsdale.

the new W hotel had a pretty cool rooftop pool scene (those are portholes in the bottom of the pool!) where i macked on all the hot closeted arizonans in their "i'm almost straight" clothes.


because i wasn't feeling the cosmopolitan vibe of downtown scottsdale, i headed to four seasons troon north, completely removed from the city and fronting some ridic sublime views and sunsets.


i thought it would be cool to hike pinnacle peak mountain. not a good idea at 2 pm when it's 143 degrees...


get the fuck out of my shot!


hot (ish) dad alert.


nobody told me the long-ass trail wasn't a loop.. and that i would eventually end up...


in the middle of nowhere... this is basically where i came to, stood for about 20 minutes wondering what my next plan was when i waved down a heavily botoxed (and sweet!) woman in her SUV who drove me 20 minutes back to the resort.


in the morning, i headed to Sedona, one of the most spiritual places in the world due to the strong energy vortexes here, the effortlessly commanding beauty of the red rock and all the fucking weird ass bohemian granola heads who are all certified spiritual healers (and why yes that is bird shit on my windshield)


this was the metaphysical healer/president of metaphysical/spiritual association i got to meet. just kidding. he didn't want to get pictured. but we had a session after our interview and , wow, apparently i'm very psychic! i saw dead people (from his past lives), holograms of him, the room disappeared and I saw his auras and his guides. he was impressed i went quickly and directly to level 3 on an altered state. watch out! i know what you're doing..


a trip to sedona isn't a trip to sedona if you don't venture into the mountains.


no matter how tired and hot you are.


my guide made me do yoga in front of the two vortexes (far left and far right). between them is the place where UFOs are spotted and this is where you can be beamed into a third dimension. no joke. and i'm living proof. i came back with a bottle of ufoian tequila.


this is the best psychic in town (only works through word of mouth, doesn't have one of those hokey shops). we talked about everything from the elections to the economy to spirituality. she was the shit (will keep you posted when my interview is published). and she even gave me a reading. woah. double woah. she basically said i'm a strong, independent woman who was the coolest fucker in the world. well, shit. tell me something i don't know bitch!