One of my friends in New York asked, “You still blogging?”

“Ummm, yeah, hello, everyday.”

“Well it’s not interesting anymore.  You’re getting married.  You talk about your wedding.  Sorry, but I don’t really care to follow that.”  I respected him for being straightforward with me.  Most people don’t tell the honest truth. 

I thought about it and here’s what I told him.  “You’re right.  I can see that.  Readers evolve as a blogger evolves.  I’m sure more single people followed me more in the past than they do now.  And you know what?  More married people follow me now.  So my readership is definitely changing, but it doesn’t get smaller.” 

I know this because of the stats.  At least 100 unique visitors check the site every day. 

Recently, I made the decision to stop blogging about my relationship.  Early on when I started blogging, I thought I could write about anything.  Anything, right?  That’s what makes us writers.  The truth.  Then my employer caught on and any mention of my company became off-limits.  But that was it.  Now, I need to take my relationship offline because apparently it’s the right thing to do.  I don’t altogether agree, but the decision has been made. 

When I started, I didn’t tell anyone I had a blog.  I just wrote pretending it was an online diary.  Then I thought maybe people might enjoy reading what someone had to say about being single in San Francisco.  And they did.  I got messages from readers telling me to keep it up.  They found my writing amusing, interesting, honest.  It made me want to improve my writing, but I wanted to keep relating to my audience.  What makes a story real?

You know what?  It’s the ugly truth.  My friend was right.  I wouldn’t give a damn about someone else’s wedding.  I used to read a blog about someone living the single life in New York City, then deleted the bookmark once she got married.  It went downhill from there.  BORING.  Frankly, I ready very few blogs.  The ones I do read are those of friends.  I wanted to grab hold of my friend like I was losing my very last client, ‘Please don’t stop reading me.  I promise I’ll be good.’  But that’s my loss and maybe a bit of his loss, too.

So even though there are off-limit topics, I am going to really try to be brutally honest and truthful.  That’s what makes writing so damn good.

I’ve spent the past several days in New York and I just absolutely love it.  I don’t care that it’s snowing and you need snow boots to cross the street.  It’s gorgeous and different.  My friend said his kid’s school has closed four days in the past six years due to weather and three of those days were this year.  Craziness!

I love the public transportation: uptown, downtown, eastside, westside.  It’s impossible to get lost.  Believe me, I get lost easily.  I love getting reacquainted with the subway system.  We need you in San Francisco.  MUNI, you suck!

I love the food.  Trying out the new restaurants.  Gorging on asian, mexican, american, fusion.  And drinking cocktails every day.

But most of all, I so loved spending time with my friends: reminiscing with my former GSB classmates at happy hour on Friday, running on the treadmill and doing the 90 minute spin class Saturday morning at the Equinox, heading to Brooklyn to spend time with my friends’ four-year-old son and read his favorite book at least a handful of times, drinking champagne at the Bowery Hotel, catching up with a college friend during breakfast and an elementary/high school friend during lunch on a Monday.

I’m coming back in the summer when there’s no more snow.  Always a good time.  Thank you NYC and all my friends who live there!  I’ll return soon.

I was really skeptical that my red-eye flight to NYC was on-time.  OK, sure, whatever Virgin.

Well it was right on time.  We left at 11:15pm from SFO and headed for JFK.  I dozed off and on.  Everyone woke up when the pilot announced that we were heading to DC instead because of the snow in NYC.  There was a big groan.

DC?  I started immediately thinking of the friends I know in DC.  A handful of business school friends and a former coworker.

Then the pilot said, “I’ve got some good news.  Visibility cleared and we’re heading to NYC.  We’re starting our descent now.” Everyone cheered.  Two hours delayed, but I’m here in NYC.

This place is a winter wonderland.  Lots of places closed due to inclement weather.  My rude taxi driver wouldn’t even get out of the car to help me with my luggage!  I’ve been looking out my friend’s window and the scene changes from snow to blizzard to snow flurries.  I like watching it because I’m inside, but now sure how I’ll feel when I get back out there.

Thank God I brought bright red snow boots!

A friend of mine told me she gave up road rage for Lent.  I really like that.

Here’s something from our church bulletin.

Fast from pessimism; feast on optimism.

Fast from criticism, feast on praise.

Fast from bitterness, feast on forgiveness.

Fast from idle gossip; feast on purposeful silence.

Fast from selfishness, feast on service.

Fast from fear; feast on faith.

Fast from anger; feast on patience.

Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude.

I sent a friend the following email this morning.

Subject: preggers

Did I tell you that I know 33 people who either gave birth in the last month or are currently pregnant?!?!

Anywho…hope you had fun at dinner last night.

Friend: omg omg omg.

i read the subject line then my iphone battery died.  you gave me a heart attack.
please tell me you’re not one of the 33.

Me: Dude I am not preggers. I was just kidding!

Friend: thanks to jeebus.  that’s the last thing we need since the amount you drink would surely have resulted in a tard baby.

There was a Do It Yourself wedding featured on the Style Me Pretty website recently that made me sing, “Hooray!  There’s someone else who gets it.”

In the words of the Bride, “We had an extremely small budget…partially by circumstance and partially by choice.  We didn’t want to go into debt over our wedding.  As time went by, it became revealed how expensive weddings really were!  Enter: an amazing community.  Our wedding would not have happened without our friends and family and we made that clear in our heirloom-themed day as there was a lot of old and borrowed.”

Wholesale flowers, homemade photobooth, dresses from Urban Outfitters, muslin tablecloths, potluck of desserts, wine only–$2 Buck Chuck!  That’s so refreshing and meaningful.  If my wedding had been local, I considered a potluck with everyone bringing their favorite dish.  People thought that was tacky.  What’s tackier—bringing your friends and family together and celebrating with meaning traditional dishes or spending a shitload of money on a single day?!  Call me cheap, but please don’t call me tacky.

There was an article on the front page of the Wall Street Journal in September that I’ve had sitting here on my desk because I knew I’d blog about it at some point.  Well today is the day.  It’s titled ‘For Wealthy Indians, Trip Down Aisle Often Requires a Passport.’  It describes how rich Indians are opting for destination weddings, flying in assistants, chefs, wedding planners, and support staff to the tune of millions of dollars.  Wuh?  Apparently, the average price tag for an Indian wedding abroad is $2 million.  OUCHIE!

I’ve heard the debate that rich people earn their money, they should be able to do whatever they want with it.  And they should, but maybe practice a little bit of restraint.  Flying in 500 guests to Macau and paying for their lodging in a four-star hotel for several nights seems a bit excessive, don’t you say?  I was honored to be invited into an Indian friend’s home for dinner and while I was waiting for the bathroom, I overheard some of the guests laugh, “Isn’t this place totally gaudy and crass?”  That made me really sad that people were laughing behind our friend’s back, especially since he was hosting us for dinner.  But it made me realize, we do not need all this ‘junk.’  We do not need china and a china cabinet and an SUV and a second home on the beach.

Warren Buffett is the richest man in the world and you don’t see the man throwing elaborate celebrations in the Bahamas.  He’s certainly not catering sit-down dinners for his cronies.  The man is having a hamburger and diet coke at the local steak joint.

I believe that this is where we lose our grounding when we start flushing money down the toilet ‘just because.’  Stop doling out inheritances to your kids.  Make them work for their own money.  Stop financing these ridiculous weddings.  You can get the same result on so much less.  After I read the DIY, I went back to my wedding budget.  Ok, where else can I cut?

I spend a lot of time reading wedding and fashion magazines in preparation for the wedding.  I always like the spreads on editors’ or celebrities’ favorites.  Here’s a list of some of my favorite things.

All undergarments from Gap body

XXL girls tights from Gap

Milly dresses

Vince Camuto boots

My one-of-a-kind Orla Kiely purse with lots of pockets.  Here’s one of her wallets.

Vintage handkerchiefs (I have a favorite handkerchief that I found at a second-hand store that I absolutely adore.)

In December, I fell in love with a piece of furniture that I saw in a design magazine.  It’s a chair made out of a suitcase.  The furniture designer is in Cape Town and when I inquired about the stock she had available, she sent over a picture of one that I liked even more than the piece in the magazine.  It’s Victorian-looking with its floral-patterned upholstery, priced at R4800 which works out to about $600.  I was sold.  I think that’s a great price for a unique piece of art that’s functional and that I can sit on!  I asked if she could price out shipping it to San Francisco.

They’d never shipped anything internationally before.  After more than a month researching, they settled on the freighting company with the lowest quote of $400—almost as much as the chair, but I was intent on the purchase.  I had to wire the money because the shipping company didn’t accept credit card.  That took at least a week to clear.  It took almost two weeks for the chair to arrive at the San Francisco airport.  They called when it arrived. 

According to the import supervisor, I had two options: 1) come and pick it up myself for $125 U.S. dollars or 2) have them deliver it for $430!  I decided to do it myself, but of course, they’re only open Monday – Friday during business hours.  They also said that if I didn’t pickup my cargo by Saturday, the airline would charge me storage fees. 

I went first to the import supervisor, paid him the money, then he directed me and told me what to do.  I had to go to the customs office.  After they checked me in at the customs office, I went to British Airways.  I filled out paperwork at British Airways, then went back to the customs office.  After I finished up at the customs office, I went back to British Airways to collect my chair.  It was a lot of back and forth, but not too much time was wasted.  I think, in total, I spent an hour between all the different offices.

The problem is when I went to retrieve my chair, the handling men all frowned and said it wouldn’t fit in my small car!  No matter which way we turned it, it just wouldn’t fit.  Luckily, they were very very nice and tore into it for me so that they could get the chair in my car!  Otherwise, I would have had to return with a van or truck.  I was so pleased that it all worked out!!!

So that is my interesting, roundabout experience in acquiring a foreign good.

Errors make me cringe.  My first job out of college, I realized very quickly there was no room for error.  I was a consultant and clients were paying me to think.  I triple-checked my work, then sent it on to a colleague to check it again before I forwarded it to my manager.  Without fail, she would find something wrong and shake her head as she returned my work to me with a bunch of red marks.  As much as I hated that job, it set the groundwork for my career.  All entry-level consultants were expected to go to grad school.  And to this day, I really try not to make mistakes.  I’ve noticed I make more and more grammatical and spelling errors these days which I’m attributing to old age.  But I’m trying!

Let me share an email response I got back from an esthetician. 

Hi Catherine, I have treated a lot of Brides getting ready for their wedding day.  If we can I like to start off with a consulatation so that we can I get a good look at your skin and make a plan to that will work with your timeline before you wedding.  Typical treatment options for hyperpigmentation are in the area of pigmentation chemical peels from light-medium strength, sometimes combined with microdermabrasion.  Once the pigmentation is cleared up the Oxygen Infusion is a huge favorite amoung brides!  It’s amazing.  It will plumg, lift, and tighten your skin and can be done the day before you wedding if need be to get your skin to reallly glow:)

Isn’t that embarrassing?  So unprofessional.  I understand that she’s not an editor.  She works with skin, I get it.  But she did go to school, yes?  I think it’s such a shame that people aren’t instilled with quality control instincts.

The other day, someone kept sending me work that was wrong.  Each time, I sent it back to her.  There’s an error in your spreadsheet.  She was obviously frustrated and asked, “Can you just tell me all the mistakes instead of sending it back each time?” 

I was furious.  I wanted to scream, “It is your job to check your work.  Doesn’t it embarrass you that I’ve already caught one mistake?  Next time, wouldn’t you be compelled to look at it 10 times before sending it back?”

I’m so excited about this weekend.  Tonight, Lizzie and I are having dinner at Frances which I’ve been dying to try.  Every time I’ve tried to get a reservation, they’ve been full.  Watch for my Yelp review.  In fact, you can follow me on Twitter if you choose to get them.

I’m supposed to see a few invitation designs from the designer who’s been diligently crafting our wedding paper goods.  That’s very exciting!

But most importantly, I’m waiting to hear back from my new CPA about the bad ass tax refund he’s getting me even though I claim 10 allowances.  I’d rather get more money with each paycheck than a huge refund, but I usually still end up with a huge refund.  So go figure!

Then Saturday and Sunday there are fabulous birthdays to celebrate.  Lots of eating.  Watch out!  I love to eat!