I am nothing if not an international fly gal, so, after graduating from Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism, I hopped the pond to Jolly Olde England in celebration of my new designation as a Master of Science. Yep, you’ve got that right—Science. Of course, no trip to a foreign land is complete without a little reminder of home. Enter Nobu Berkeley Street, the London branch of NYC’s celeb-studded sushi joint.

Those of you who consider yourself happy castaways on the island of Manhattan needn’t avert your eyes just yet because I’m certain star chef Nobu Matsuhisa—known around the world as one of the Iron Chef trio—packs the same culinary punch whether on our island or in the British Isles.

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Any single gal in New York is used to smooth talkers. The last thing anybody hopes to encounter during a night on the town is a man who’ll use all his charming stories and fancy tricks to make a fool of you. Unless, of course, the man playing tricks is Magician Eric DeCamps. Having spent last Wednesday night being charmed and deceived by The Society of American Magicians’ award-winning Magician of the Year, I speak from experience.

After recently watching The Prestige, starring the delicious Christian Bale, I looked forward to an evening of illusion – the illusion being that I was Scarlett Johansson, called upon to fill the role of the beautiful and charming volunteer who disappears into thin air before the eyes of the audience. To ensure that was the case, I took a seat as close to the front row as possible. All said and done, that’s not quite how it played out… but close enough.
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Each year, I excitedly wait for the U.S. Open to come to New York, always making sure I attend at least one game. When it’s still months away, like right now, I enjoy keeping up with other tournaments around the world on television. I vicariously live through the players on the courts because even though I try to play at least three times a week (and despite how damn cute I am in a flouncy little tennis ensemble), I’ll never get to pro status.

Everything truly is beautiful at the ballet. I digress from my search for the perfect margarita and guacamole to talk about one of my other favorite things: dance in New York City. American Ballet Theatre opened its spring season at the Metropolitan Opera House in Lincoln Center earlier this week, and it is definitely one not to be missed.

Having studied dance steadily for 18 years of my life, I take every opportunity I can to see dance in performance. When I recently found myself with a free evening (a true rarity for a girl on the go in NYC), I decided to embrace spontaneity and head over to Lincoln Center. I hoped to snag a ticket for La Bayadère, ABT’s first ballet in repertory this season. That’s one of the phenomenal things about New York City—anyone craving a live performance will have many choices within reach on any given night.
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The city has been buzzing about the new Greek and Roman Galleries that just opened at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so when an art aficionado friend of mine came into town last weekend I considered it a “must-do” while she was here. Saturday morning we excitedly met up on the vast front staircase leading up to the Metropolitan Museum. Before we walked in, my friend informed me that the stairs leading up to museums symbolize the aspirations we all should have to the artists inside.

“I’m Georgia, and I’ve got some rules,” quipped Jane Fonda at the premiere of Georgia Rule on Tuesday night. Sure, the joke was lame, but Ms. Fonda was looking like a stone cold fox, so I’ll forgive her. Standing next to her, Gloria Steinem, another foxy femme-it-forward advocate, stepped up to the mic to speak about the Women’s Media Center. She, Fonda and writer/activist Robin Morgan founded the Center in 2004, and tonight was the organization’s first glitzy Hollywood-style event.