Mantra of the Day: Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Okay, so I have put this off long enough. It’s time that I get real and let you know what is going on in my life. That is what everyone wants to know these days, so I might as well step out in front of the rumors and get the story straight.
I’ve been doing some part-time work with a hedge fund in the south of France. Jeez, I can’t remember the last time that I worked for someone else, but there are a lot of things that were new to me when I got to the Riviera.
Like dating a prince, for instance. There have been rumors flying around about what will happen between me and Jean-Luc (or Lucky, as everyone calls him), like if we will get married, if he is faithful or if I will go back to my Tom (my husband). (Did I mention the fact that I am kinda-sorta married?) It is because of him that my life was thrown into the spotlight overseas.
Everyday, there are pictures of me in the French tabloids saying to that I am doing this and that…because of the dating-a-prince thing. Well, if I am perfectly honest, I don’t really know what they are saying because I don’t speak French. (Note to self: I need to learn French ASAP.)
Anyway, I am moving to Monaco, Monte Carlo! At least, for a month or two with Edwina (or “Eddy” for short), my best grad school friend. She is an ‘IT’ party girl from London and part of the city’s social elite. Her parents have an apartment in Monaco that they don’t use most of the year, so we will hang out there until they decide to come down South. Supposedly, it is harder for the paparazzi to get into the principality and do what they do. I’m not saying that I hate to have my picture taken; that is not the problem. I just have an issue with the shit that they write about me afterwards. Based on these rags, I get regular phone calls from my parents asking me if I am:
A) going through a midlife crisis
B) divorcing my husband
C) pregnant by a playboy
D) beating up random women in night clubs in a jealous rage because my princely boyfriend is cheating on me…again; and/or
E) if I’m doing drugs
I don’t think that my life will ever be the same after having moved to the French Riviera. Then again, I wouldn’t change my life for anything in the world because the bad times made way for the best of times. Whatever. I can’t deal so I am getting out of dodge (New York, that is).
For more on my crazy love life, follow the blog entries labeled "The Chronicles".
Ta ta for now!
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