So after a year back in nyc, I’m now in Las Vegas. LAS VEGAS! I still can’t comprehend what’s happening. I am absolutely obsessed with NYC – it is my #1 first true love and always will be. But as much as I adore the city, it will always be my home and I needed to make another change – this time for my career.

In the past year, I have gotten divorced, lived in 3 different states, moved to 3 different NYC apartments and had 3 different jobs. I am clearly not one to shy away from change. I have always wanted to get back into the nightlife and hospitality industry – bartending and doing events at clubs and lounges was always my passion – but I always thought my life would keep me in NYC. After 3 years in Florida, I had finally made my way back home.

Now, I am gone again.

And I know it’s the best thing I have ever done for myself.

I’m living in Las Vegas, working in nightlife PR and really loving life. Of course, it’s not NYC, but I refuse to compare. Nothing is like NYC. But Vegas is actually a pretty amazing place – there is way more to it than the Strip. And, believe it or not, I live a much simpler, relaxed life here. Sure, it’s only been 11 days, but the sense of peace I have is something I’ve never had in NYC. I thrive off of the energy in Manhattan, unable to stay home or go home. Here, I find myself going out just as often – I’m just not as frenetic and anxious.

I’ve moved into one of those full-service luxury buildings I could never dream of affording as a Manhattanite. I walk everywhere. The weather is fantastic. There is amazing yoga and passable juice bars. And the people are just unbelievably friendly.

Of course, I’m still getting settled so we’ll see. But I couldn’t be happier with my decision and am excited to see what my future in not-so-Sin City will bring…

another new journey is about to begin…blog posts to come!

I call my grandma Hoopie. It started when I was little, around 5 or 6, I guess. She played a Polka record called ‘Hoopi Shoopi Donna’ while I danced around the coffee table in her living room and gleefully sang along. The nickname stuck.

I have been very lucky to have a great relationship with Hoopie my whole life. She lived right across the river in nearby Rockland County so there were frequent dinners and sleepovers. She had a finished basement, complete with a full bar and decorated with Yankees memorabilia. I can vividly remember walking into her house and getting hit by the wall of smoke of her ever-present cigarette. Thankfully, she quit, although not until after her 80th birthday.

Now back in NYC after three years in Florida, I am thrilled to be near my Hoopie again and excited to revive one of our favorite traditions – feasting on pierogies with fried onions at Veselka. To be fair, the tradition actually started at neighboring Kiev, but that place is long gone, in favor of a way more fashionable (and pricey) East Village eatery.

Hoopie was born and raised in Queens, but had serious ties to the Ukranian community in the East Village. She was baptized and confirmed at St. George’s Ukranian Church on East 7th (conveniently located a stone’s throw from McSorleys) and her mother, dubbed ‘Great Grandma Soup’ for her incomparable chicken version, was laid to rest in that same location. Although she always lived in the outer borough and later the suburbs – with a brief stint in Beverly Hills – the East Village has surely always held a place in Hoopie’s heart. Perhaps it’s why I keep finding myself living in the neighborhood…

So naturally we had our reunion lunch at Veselka recently, joined by Michael, my father (the dutiful chauffeur) and Taffy. As always, Hoopie ordered her beloved potato and cheese pierogie (boiled, natch) although no one pretended that they were nearly as good as the homemade version she regularly whipped up when I was little. THOSE were heaven.

But the food was excellent, the company even better. We chatted about new apartments, travels and friends while Hoopie contentedly listened, happy that we were all back together on her home turf again.

MY Pros and Cons of The Sunshine State (aka some random musings about life on the beach)

We’ve been “living” in NYC (I use air quotes because even I still don’t really believe it’s true) for almost two weeks now, and of course, I began thinking about the good versus bad about being a resident of Palm Beach County…the grass being greener and what not.

Interestingly, a lot of my pros were also cons and vice versa:

The weather: Who doesn’t love 75 and sunny in mid-February? It’s amazing. No complaints here. But to be honest, day after day after day of sun does get to you (or at least, it got to me). Variety is a huge plus and I adore the seasons – some of my best childhood (and admittedly, adult) memories are of playing in the snow and braving the elements sans coat and gloves. Sure, I may be booking the next flight out of town at the first glimpse of a winter chill, but for now, I’m loving the surprise of waking up every day not knowing whether to put on sandals or a sweater.

The small-town vibe: Delray Beach was the quintessential all-American town. In fact, it was awarded the distinction of All-American City in 1993 and 2001 (has it really been all downhill since then? I still don’t understand the requirements for winning and why there has been such a long dry spell, but whatever) and is one easily the most adorable place I have ever lived (Sorry, Amherst). But one of the main things I loved about Delray was also what turned me off – seeing people I knew everywhere I went. And I wasn’t even all that popular around town! Most days I welcomed the interaction, chatting with an acquaintance (or 3) at Spot Coffee or sitting down for lunch next to my therapist at Brule. But sometimes, I just wanted to be alone with my NY Post and not be social at all. With only a limited amount of places to hang out, though, I didn’t always get to make the choice to.

The pace: With seemingly half of the population being over 80 (you know, you have grandparents in Boca) things tend to move a little, well, slower. Some days it was just what I needed: a yoga class with just a small handful of students, breakfast at a sleepy cafe – with the NY Post, natch, a few hours of writing and emailing and some other random, usually workout-related, activities. I never felt a lot of pressure to pack my days mindlessly and run around doing unnecessary chores, like I often do in NYC. But there were certainly days when this slow-as-molasses pace zapped my motivation and inspiration. I thrive on high energy and always have; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite find the joie de vivre I was looking for.

The minimal diversity: The issue of the lack of variety of cultures and classes was a biggie. It always bothered me, since the day I moved south. I grew up and spent all of my life with people of many different races and cultures, and honestly just love interacting with all kinds of people. In fact, I constantly lobbied to get Michael to move to the “less desirable” neighborhoods, just to live among some people who weren’t all white and upwardly mobile. But even that was hard, with 66% of the people in Delray and a shocking 88% in Boca Raton sharing my race. Don’t get me wrong – it wasn’t torture but a little diversity would have been nice.

The wealth: I’ve been in Manhattan for most of my adult life (save the past 3 years), so I am most definitely used to knowing people with some cash in the bank. And I’m all for having nice things – I have a sick handbag obsession and can’t live without dinners out. I’m definitely guilty of indulging in the high life, even when I should be staying home and cooking or wearing last years’ Balenciaga. It was comforting having Houston’s around the corner and Saks a few miles away. But nothing could have prepared me for the level of wealth that exists in Palm Beach County. Sure, I met MANY grounded, unaffected people but more often than not the women I encountered were dripping in jewels and fighting to get on the waiting list for the latest IT purse or shoes, never mind the cost. And the men were no better, parking their flashy cars in front of Starbucks. But even crazier was how quickly it all just started to seem, well, normal. I found myself scoffing at Bentley convertibles as they passed me on Atlantic Avenue because I didn’t like the color (ew, RED?) or the body was too boxy. Is that ANOTHER Birkin? In my own experience, it created an environment where I was constantly watching people around me stock up on things, things and more things – and I found myself trying to keep up, even if only in my head (I certainly couldn’t convince Michael to shell out $20,000 for an Hermes). I failed. Thankfully.

Now, I’m back in NYC, where I can find new struggles (apartment envy and getting denied from the newest clubs in town, for starters) and things to dislike about this city. But my location no longer completely defines me since I am aware that no place is perfect if you aren’t balanced within; there will be plenty of days when I’ll pine for a simple life and a 85 degree and sunny day. I’m not picking on Delray Beach and most definitely have not intended to insult anyone who resides there; in fact, I adored my time there, all of the amazing people I’ve met and interacted with and can’t wait for frequent visits back (hello, winter!). But as I take a small step back, some things are just a bit clearer.

Let me just cut to the chase: we have finally moved back to NYC.

I still can’t believe it, to be honest. And while I haven’t even been here a week (and still need to go back to Florida to finish packing) every time I walk into our Greenwich Village apartment, I really can’t comprehend my new reality – I am once again a New Yorker. The dogs are even here with us. It’s for real.

No more covering up my status as a South Floridian by telling people I spend half of the year in Manhattan (when it was actually probably closer to 3 months). Gone are the days of making plans with every single person I know during a week-long visit, unsure of when I would be back in Manhattan again.

Instead, this great city is home, again. I am living here, just as I did for nearly a decade before moving to Delray Beach in 2008, for my now-husband. And while I begged and pleaded with him to move north for as long as I can remember, I finally released my attachment to the idea of ever truly experiencing seasons again. And then, of course, it happened: Michael admitted that he was finally ready to make the journey north too, not because I was forcing him or even pressuring him, but because it was the right time. Sure, I clearly had something to do with his decision but shouldn’t I? I certainly didn’t relocate to Palm Beach County over 3 years ago simply because I was looking for a climate change…

The universe works in the most interesting ways, as I have learned. I am grateful that I stayed in Florida for as long as I did; I was able to really become happy and content with where I was instead of running out of town like I had tried to do a little less than a year ago. While I had always thought I couldn’t be myself anywhere except NYC, I ended up realizing that wasn’t close to the truth; instead, I made good friends, created a fulfilling daily routine and most definitely strengthened my marriage, thanks in part to yoga and lots of therapy.

But nothing compares to New York City and the energy and inspiration I feel just walking around, wondering all about the person whom is strolling close beside me. I am alive with confidence and possibility.

I will always fondly remember the much-needed break I was lucky enough to take in the sunny and peaceful beach town, and especially the truly amazing friends and family who made the experience unforgettable. And of course, Delray will always be a part of our lives – with so many great people (not to mention January, February and March!) – we will basically just be flip-flopping our enviable snowbird schedule.

But I am excited for a new beginning and to share all of my exciting new experiences in a very familiar place, with my love by my side.

one year ago today, i quit my job at Star Magazine and started a brand new life.

the past 12 months have been very interesting, and mostly amazing. at first, i struggled – i have had corporate jobs since graduating from college and i was suddenly on my own as a freelance writer. i had a hard time figuring out what to do with my new unstructured days. i spent a lot of money on lunches out and and even more during frequent shopping sprees at lululemon and saks. i was basically a stay-at-home mom, sans child. i even stayed involved in the celebrity gossip game for another 6 months, quietly writing weekly story pitches for my former celebrity gossip employers, just to stay in the game. but i knew i was looking for someone else, something new.

it didn’t take long for me to find it, through the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, yoga teacher training, Jewish studies and now, a brand-new job as an instructor at FlyBarre.  i always secretly struggled with having a desk job and desperately wanted to get out of the 9-5 grind but i was scared and unsure of what would lie ahead. i now know: anything.

i have proven to myself that i didn’t have to follow the path that i – or other people in my life – had tried to keep me on. once i let go of my attachment to money and success and recognition, something amazing happened; all of those things came to me.

we are all capable of doing whatever we want in life. of course, there are financial limitations and family obligations and other things that may keep us from going after what we want, but remember that anything, ANYTHING is possible and within reach.

i remind myself everyday to keep going confidently in the direction of my dreams and live the life that i imagined.

as always, I can’t stay idle for very long. As my nutrition program at The Institute for Integrative Nutrition came to an end, I was faced with free time and nothing to do.

Of course, I have already filled that gap.

Since the beginning of April, I have been training to teach FlyBarre – an intense sculpting and toning class that was created at FlyWheel Sports in NYC by my friend Kate – and the Boca Raton studio finally opened this weekend. Suddenly, free time is sparse, just the way I like it.

Saturday and Sunday was our grand opening, and it couldn’t have been better. The buzz around the studio was infectious and people were raving about FlyBarre. It was satisfying to see the most in-shape women (and men!) from Boca and Delray struggling to get through the 10 minute ab set and dropping their arms in exhaustion and pain as we did bicep curls and lateral pulls. I even taught my very first class to a full room (16 students!) and got some amazing compliments.

Yesterday kicked off our first full week of classes and I’ve already taught twice. In addition to watching my own body get super-toned and lean, I’m watching that happen with clients who are taking up FlyBarre. I absolutely adore yoga and will continue to teach and practice, but nothing, NOTHING, I have ever done gets results like FlyBarre. 6 pounds and 2 inches (on each leg!) later, I’m HOOKED!

No, this isn’t a shameless marketing plug for my new employer; I am genuinely obsessed! Plus, I have another new “family” down here in Florida (and in NYC, when I go north this summer) and am so excited for this new opportunity. Of course, I still have my yoga and my writing and my nutrition counseling clients – I’m a pro at juggling –  but right now I’m all FLY, all the time…

FlyBarre Boca girls, Marisa, me and Montana!    (and Kate and Ella, repping NYC…)

I just took my final exam at Institute for Integrative Nutrition last week. It was an online exam and took me all of 8 minutes to complete and I got a 90% (I rule multiple choice tests) but it still felt strange. Another thing in my life is coming to an end.

Last April, when I left my job (and career) at Star Magazine to go out and find myself – again – I took on a plethora of new activities and classes. I was suddenly enrolled at IIN, in a 200-hour yoga teacher training program, attending a Jewish conversion class once a week and getting my teeth completely redone with the help of the miracle product, Invisalign.

Well, now I am a certified yoga teacher with a (near) perfect smile and a degree in Holistic Nutrition from SUNY Purchase. I’m still waiting to become a true Jew…

I am admittedly proud of myself and shocked that I got all of these things done in under 12 months but also filled with a bit of sadness and fear – what the hell am I supposed to do with my time now? In my (sparse) spare time, I am still writing articles for different magazine which is my true passion. I have been putting off so many projects because I was a student. How was I expected to write and pitch my work when I was spending weekends working on my Downward Dog and listening to lectures about the benefits of  a Raw Food diet?

Now I am faced with more free time than I can fill. And it’s scary because I have no excuse for not getting things done. I can no longer hide behind my packed schedule. What’s my excuse for not sending that completed essay to Glamour or Self? Fear of rejection, not lack of time.

There will surely be something new to take up my time, but for now, I’m taking a deep breath and facing my fear head on.

I’ve been living a crazy lifestyle for the past 3 years and I’m still not sure if I love it or loathe it.

I am always traveling. As soon as I have unpacked my suitcase and finally done all of my laundry, it’s time to pack again. I am basically never in the same place for more than 60 days. And it’s usually way less than that. My home base is in Florida but I am still a native New Yorker who craves the energy and pace of city life every few weeks. I love being there, in the middle of it all, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to heading back to Delray Beach after spending a week or two in Manhattan. Nothing beats the culture and the excitement and the social interactions I enjoy in NYC, but walking on the beach in mid-winter – while NYC is enduring snow and hailstorms – does not suck.

As I’ve said before, I have learned to appreciate the polarities of my life – the crazy (and often exhausting) up, up, up of the big city and the relaxing (and sometimes frustrating) low of a quiet, simple beach town. But sometimes living such a double life is draining. It really takes a toll on me physically. Every round trip flight lends to an hour deep tissue massage. But the mental and emotional strain is by far the most difficult.

I struggle to maintain relationships with new people I’ve met in Delray Beach while working to find time to see all of my treasured longtime friends in NYC, while also striving to accept both places as HOME. These days, I often feel like I am being pulled in ten different directions (self imposed, of course) and get overwhelmed easily. Airports are boring and all too familiar. My favorite Elizabeth & James blouse gets left behind at the apartment in NYC but I really really need to wear it to an event in Delray tonight. I go weeks without seeing my adorable mini-dachshunds, Cody and Riley. These are not the world’s worst problems, but they are mine, and to me they are real. As I try to lay down solid roots in Florida, I find myself being beckoned again and again to NYC, at times for a good friend’s birthday or bachelorette and often for career oppotunities. I always make an effort to go. I hate missing a good party.

I’ve tried to reconcile this crazy situation I call life. Surely, things would be easier if I just lived in one place, right? The thing is, I’m just not ready to give either part of my life up yet.  Both places offer something entirely different but necessary. NYC is where I drink in fresh creative juice and get revitalized and inspired while Delray is where I come to let it all soak in. They are the perfect compliment to one another. If only they were 1000 miles closer….