My Vancouver home was recently published in the inaugural edition of Gray Magazine, a fab new publication for and about design connoisseurs who have a specific interest in the Pacific Northwest as a creative region. Once again, my thanks to the remarkable Robert Bailey for making this happen!
I love the magazine and I am very happy with the spread about my home. Please note a few key mistakes though. My condo is located on False Creek not Falls Creek and the beautiful living room rug is by Jan Kath (not the bedroom rug).
I’ve attached a few screen shots above from the online edition of the mag, but to view the entire spread, click here or pick up a copy on news stands.
Happy Holidays to all!
Life meant a certain reality for me that was lived throughout most of my days as an adult. But now, everything I believed in, craved, adored, and stood by has become the past, and I am opening myself up to the possibilities of re-inventing myself again, loving differently, meeting new figures in life, and wildly discovering new adventures. So, why is it that when you walk through that door of opportunity does a cloud of memories hold you every day at hostage, reminding you not of the exciting future, but of what you have left behind?”
-Prisoner of the Past
My dear Prisoner of the Past,
Thank you for your letter. The most important thing that I have to say to you is this: In order for you to move forward with your new and fabulous life, you MUST make peace with the past. The reality that you lived for most of your days as an adult up until this point was valid and perfect for the exact time that it lasted. Its end is also valid and perfect. It is all in perfect divine order.
I offer you this advice for making peace with the past:
1. Be grateful for everything that has happened in your life. Be grateful for the people who have come and gone. It /they all had a purpose for you. There are NO mistakes and NO coincidences.
2. Forgive anyone who may need to be forgiven. Forgive them completely. Do it for yourself.
3. Have absolute faith in the divine order of your life and you will begin to see signs pointing you in the direction of your fabulous future.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that when one door closes, the one that opens up is always better just so long as we believe it to be so. The transition is tough because change is often difficult for us but when you make peace with the past and you know that it was essential to your life going forward, you look back on it with love and gratitude. Then, you can grin at the future. It is fabulous. It is exciting. It is all unfolding as it should.
I send you love, peace and joy,
Be sure to join my website community (click here) so you’re always updated on the release of the next chapter!
We went up to the room. I threw myself on the bed, passionately removed the offending gear and proceeded to be ravaged. I really don’t know how to successfully describe the sexual chemistry and intensity that we share. What I know is that he touches me and it takes my breath away. We made passionate love for over an hour. We talked for a while and then, dear God; he was hard and ready for more. So, we did it again – twice before dinner.
Mr. Bentley went down to the casino to give me some privacy and space to get ready for the evening. Once again I poured myself into a scuba-like dress, this time a stunning red one and paired it with high black YSL pumps, and a simple black Jill Sander clutch. As I approached the blackjack table, he started to fumble. He stuttered and stammered and lost the next 3 rounds. He can’t stop talking about that dress.
At the restaurant we met up for pre-dinner drinks with the alibis – Mr. Bentley’s friends who agreed to be his accomplices for this scandalous adventure. All 4 of them married and all 4 wives believing that the men were on a boy’s trip to scope out deals in Vegas. Frankie, Dice and Johnny Rotten are three guys that you would not wish on your worst enemy to marry or to date but as acquaintances in Vegas, it doesn’t get much better – Vicodin popping, hard drinking, hooker-hiring, high rollers who provided endless entertainment, flattery and fun. Yes, I admit, I enjoyed them immensely.
Mr. Bentley was determined that our first dinner together would be alone and romantic so he sent his alibis packing. After 6 weeks of dating, we had yet to go out for dinner – it is an affair after all. You take the time slots that you can get.
But I digress – back to the romantic dinner. We ate steak and shared a bottle of Silver Oak Cabernet, compliments and flattery. No doubt about it, Mr. Bentley was smitten. We stopped by the blackjack table for a few rounds but really couldn’t wait to get back up to the room. We fucked liked bunnies and I was beginning to hurt like hell but in the best possible way…
Up until this trip, we had not been able to spend the night together. Every encounter had been cut abruptly short with a shower and a quick return home to his wife. I have not complained. I have choices. But now we could cuddle, spoon, stay in each other’s arms and wake up together. It felt so good and so right. Go figure.
During the day, we hung out by the pool, browsed the stores, and went to the gym together where we ran on side- by -side treadmills. In my world, that’s pretty romantic…
That night, we met up with the alibis for dinner at SW Steakhouse in the Wynn hotel – they filled us in on their escapades of the night before – these boys could star in their very own true-life version of “The Hangover”. There were no tigers in the bathroom or chickens in the suite but there certainly were hookers, pills, gambling and booze.
Dinner was followed by a burlesque-type show and then back to the room – From now on my sex hero had to be as gentle as humanly possible. He was. It was awesome.
After more passion the next morning, Mr. Bentley and his alibis drove away. I went shopping. One pink Balenciaga purse and one cocktail dress later, I went back to the room, had a sandwich for dinner and packed. I felt OK. I did not think about the future.
Sitting at the airport the next morning, things changed. I started to feel anxious about the fact that I had not even had a phone call to see how my night alone was or to wish me a safe flight. I felt the madness build. By the time I landed in Vancouver there was still no message from him – voice or email. I started to feel as if I’d fallen off a cliff into the abyss and I started to realize that this is the true reality of being a mistress. This is what it feels like to be a woman on the side. I hate it. You are low on the totem pole – how degrading. They go back to their wife and their life and you are left wondering and wanting – that is until the next time slot opens for a quickie at the love nest followed by a shower and a goodbye. I started to plot the demise of the “relationship”.
I sent Mr. Bentley an email. Calling a married lover is a no-no for obvious reasons and we were in different cities after all. I said that I had had an incredible time with him in Vegas. I told him how it made me feel to come home without him. I told him that I love spending time with him and making love to him. I told him that if he were available, I would be into having an intense relationship with him. And I told him that I am no longer interested in having an affair with a married man.
Now, I know what it feels like to be the other woman. The sex is great but it messes with your head, compromises your value system and challenges your self worth.
Having said that was my intention strong enough this time for logic and reason to win out over lust and lunacy? Passion and support from an unavailable man was precisely what I needed to get me through the break-up blues. Was I really ready to give that up?
Tune in next time to find out!