Everything's coming up roses

Hi! Did you miss me? I'd love to say that I missed blogging, but, really, I didn't. I kind of enjoyed not reporting in. Especially since I had little to report, anyway. Let's mutually consider this my summer blogging schedule and both go grab a mai tai before reading the recap:

My business trip to New York was good. I'm still recovering a lot of the data that I lost on my computer, so I've been extra busy at work, which I think has also contributed to my lack of posting. But my media lists are finally almost back up to where they were, and my most important and timely documents were saved elsewhere, so I am out of panic mode for the time being.

A nice surprise was that Kelly Taylor (aka Jennie Garth) was on my flight back to LA. Before boarding, Jet Blue made a loud announcement paging "Jennie Garth Facinelli" to the terminal. I bounded out of my seat and strained my neck looking for any sign of her and her yummy hubby. Alas, she was traveling solo - well, with only kids and other women in tow - but it was still very exciting.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here, but hands down, my very favorite part of every week is Saturday mornings when SoapNet plays old episodes of 90210. Especially since the weather has been nice, I've been waking up pretty early and catching an episode or two before my 9:30 yoga class. Sometimes it's seriously a struggle to leave the house. Last weekend, one of my favorite episodes ever came on right before I had to leave, and I spent 20 minutes mentally debating whether or not it was worth staying home. Reason won out and I went to yoga, but only because I figured I'd be able to find this on YouTube:

Also, and I know I have said this before, I have fallen headstand over heels in love with yoga. I have not run in weeks; haven't lifted a weight in months. And yet my body feels different, better, lighter, tighter, than it has in years. It's seriously amazing - but also, weird. For 15 years, I've defined myself by my workouts. I'm a "runner". I lift weights. I shave my legs so I can wear cute shorts and am constantly charging my iPod.

Now? I haven't even listened to my iPod in weeks. I shave for my work wardrobe but wear stretch pants to practice. More than that, my entire commuting schedule has changed. Rather than go to the gym near my office to avoid what most people would consider a miserable drive, I'm heading across town during rush hour to make my favorite classes. I can't say I don't mind or notice the traffic, but it doesn't really bother me, either. These all may sound like little, trivial details, but so much of my identity has been wrapped up in the gym, it's a little disconcerting to suddenly develop entirely new habits.

When I haven't been working or at the gym, I've been living life in LA - spending every weekend at the beach, going out with friends, celebrity-spotting when I can. Last Wednesday, I had two good sightings - at the same restaurant. First, James Spader, who is one of my favorite actors and childhood crushes, was eating with what looked like his wife and family. If I had a Top 5/Free Pass/Celebrity Sex Loophole List, I can confidently say that he would be on it.

A little bit later, Jillian The Bachelorette walked in. She and her friend ate at the bar but did not reveal any clues about what or who might have contributed to what is supposed to be the MOST EMOTIONAL SEASON FINALE IN BACHELORETTE HISTORY. (I typed that literally as Chris Harrison spoke it - I'm watching while I write.) I liked Jillian a lot when she was on The Bachelor last year, but she grated on my nerves a bit this season. I don't blame her for that; truthfully, I think that show is just so formulaic, they've reduced her to little more than a methodical rotation of sound bites. It didn't help that the series was extra long this year. But she looked like a cute, normal girl when I saw her, and maybe it was the wine or maybe it was James Spader, but I couldn't help but think that I liked her again.

Of course, given what takes place on TV tonight, I reserve the right to change my opinion.

The Secret (of my success)

Of all the interesting things the psychic told me, one piece of news that would have been helpful was that, late at night on Friday, our office was broken into and my laptop stolen.

I came into work this morning and was greeted by the receptionist and the cleaning crew, who are usually long gone well before business hours. The burglar had climbed in through an open window; we're on the second floor, but the rooftop of the shorter, adjacent building served as a simple step-stool. He didn't get too far before our motion sensors set off the alarm; he left a trail of items that he was clearly considering taking, but the only thing he made off with was my computer. I hope he is wowed by my way with words: I have four-plus years of press releases, pitch letters, and marketing copy immortalized on that thing.

Fortunately, most of the information is at least moderately retrievable. I've backed up my system, not recently, but enough. What's not saved elsewhere as a document is likely retrievable on the web. I'll have to spend some serious hours rebuilding my media lists, but the work will mostly be technical - the information is ingrained in my brain.

There is irony in the fact that while most of the office saves to the server (which would be backed up) my business travel is frequent enough that I only to save to my hard drive. And wouldn't you know it? I'm traveling to New York tomorrow. I'm throwing a cocktail party at the Spa on Thursday night for 50-60 people. Before that, I'm meeting with beauty editors to introduce new products. What's more, I was actually supposed to be traveling to Scottsdale this week, for an event I have planned there on Thursday, but the New York trip took precedence and also tripled my workload.

It wasn't the best week to lose my laptop.

However, I do believe in looking at the positive. For one, it was only my work laptop. It was only work. Thank God my home is safe and my personal possessions are mine. (Even though I absentmindedly slept with the keys dangling out of my door on Saturday night. I can be stupid. But awfully lucky.) Two, I got to see a forensics team in action today. Dusting for prints in our office! Who ever gets to see that? (And have it not be a traumatic experience?)

But one of the things I think is funny is that I have been needing a new laptop for a while. Last week, I finally voiced my need to our IT guy, but didn't have the time to follow up on making a formal request. Fast-forward to today, I lose my old laptop, and was greeted with a brand new one in it's place. I'm not sure of the exact details, but someone ordered this computer a month ago, it wasn't what they wanted, the company had no record of sending it, and so we basically got a new one for free. It's been sitting around, waiting to be used.

One of the most persistent themes of my reading, which was also significant last year, was that I am highly attuned to the spiritual realm: according to both clairvoyants, I am extremely intuitive (stop, you're making me blush!) and should be honing the ability to connect with the other side. The woman on Saturday made a big point of saying that my purpose in this life is to to encourage my "knowingness," and know that I have the power to manifest anything I want.

Wouldn't it be funny if, just by voicing my half-hearted complaint last week, I managed to manifest myself a brand new computer?

A few weeks ago, I remember asking HR if we were going to close early. It must have been that Thursday before Memorial Day, because I knew we'd close early on Friday but due to various travel schedules, there were only a handful of us in the office the day before. He said no, and I went back to work. An hour later, the management company rings our bell and tells us we have to vacate by 5:00 because they were shutting off the water for the night. The few of us left in the office joked that, eager beaver that I was, I must have orchestrated the whole thing.

And who knows. Maybe I did.

Clearly this represents a subconscious predilection for Slurpees

I don't know anything about numerology, but I think there's something to the fact that I somehow managed to schedule my second-ever psychic reading exactly a year to the day after my first-ever psychic reading. The date: 7/11.

Pardon the interruption

Hi! Sorry I have been slightly missing in action. Apparently traveling cross-country and spending the week visiting five children was a direct invitation for germs to invade my body, rendering me incapable of doing too much besides blowing my nose and sleeping for twelve hours at a stretch. Hoping to get back to regularly scheduled blogging soon.