After much thought...

To my fans of "She Hang's Brightly" I will be returning to tell the story.  I originally had to take a brief hiatus as some of the people portrayed who's names had been changed had made threats against me.  I had to take into account my personal safety and ramifications of this project and believe without a voice I have nothing.  So yes, She Hangs Brightly will continue on, and I apologize for the delay.  But please stay tuned...

The Lone Star state

Amongst Derek’s vast portfolio of investments, he was big on property.  He always said that it was the only possession one could have that was from the core of the earth to the sky.  He liked to buy in areas that were considered untapped resources.  Enter the Lone Star State.  He owned a lot of undeveloped land outside the greater Dallas area.  I always thought that was a bit odd.  Maybe it was his tribute to Aaron Spelling’s Dallas or the big 80’s hit Falcon Crest. 

As most big property tycoons have silent partners, Derek too had no plans to reinvent the wheel with this one.  Aitan was a skilled real estate broker who had migrated from Israel.  He sought out the American dream just like everyone else.  He moved to Dallas from Tel Aviv because he thought what better?  Oil money?  Sue Ellen?  God Bless America.

Shortly after relocating to Dallas and developing a solid reputation, Derek and Aitan met through mutual friends at the annual “We Are The World” social golf outing.  This was an event where the good old boys with oil money and the eager amateurs team up and spend a day out on the greens telling each other how fabulous they all are.  “We make the world a better place!” cheers.  “Where would the white house be without us?” cheers.  And on and on it goes.

Aitan and Derek had a lot in common.  They both thought Derek was God’s gift to making money.  Aitan wasn’t stupid.  He knew that if he teamed up with Derek that he would soon be considered a force to be reckoned with.  He could be the middleman between the two money men.  After all, Aitan was from a teensy little country in the thick of it all, he had been training for this his whole life.

Dana wasn’t exactly Sue Ellen but she did have the southern charm.  She had big perfectly maintained hair and acrylic fingernails.  She had been a runner up as Prom queen in her high school and served as the co head cheerleader to her varsity football team.  And anyone who knows anything about high school knows that playing football in high school in Texas is greater than earning a diploma.

Dana and Aitan met at the local BBQ shack that Aitan frequented.  The flirting began and they were off and running.  He was thrilled to learn that she came from generations of Texans and her family was in the “know”.    And Dana, well, Dana was overcome with the mystery and the intrigue of someone foreign.  And frankly, Dana just wanted to win a popularity contest amongst her girlfriends.  They had all married the Marlboro man and she was bringing in culture.  And she never really did like pork.  She was a born and bred cattle girl.

About 6 months after they began their intercultural love tryst, something crazy happened.  It wasn’t so much as “crazy” as it was unexpected.  Dana was pregnant.  Yes, the nice southern belle who came from a very conservative family was pregnant outside of wedlock to an up and coming Jew from Israel.  This was destiny all right…

As expected Aitan and Dana lived a lifetime of circumstance.  After converting and severing ties with her family Dana became dependant on befriending Aitan’s friends.  So began the friendship of Derek, Aitan and Dana. 

“Dallas?” I asked.  “What is in Dallas, Derek?”  “Well, I own some land outside of the city and I haven’t seen it.  I have some great friends there so we can make a weekend out of it.  Aitan and Dana have heard so much about you and they are really looking forward to meeting you.” Replied Derek.  “Okay, it sounds different.  Are these people going to actually be nice to me or are they like your other friends?” I asked.  “No” Derek reassured me, “these people are solid.  Real salt of the earth people.”  And “I have made Aitan a lot of money over the years.  He knows better.”  That sounds convincing, I thought.

I was at home and starting to pack for the weekend eager to meet some of Derek’s nice friends.  I was on the phone with mother and retelling the story of how Derek and Aitan met.  “Dallas?” she asked.  I know, sometimes I do hear myself in mother.  “Yep.”  I said.  “Too bad I got rid of my cowboy boots from last season.”  Mother laughed.  Then she cautioned me and said “Remember Oriana, if it walks like a duck and looks like a duck and talks like a duck, chances are, it’s a snake.”  Mother always knows best.

As always, I pulled up to Derek’s airplane hangar and Sonia was there to greet me.  Derek was already on board and they were just waiting on me to arrive.  I must say there is a level of convenience that comes with money.  Before I could even sit down in my seat, the door to the plane was sealed and we began to taxi.

I was curious, “Derek, what’s in store for the weekend?”  Derek smirked and said “calf roping and bull riding.  Trust me, it’s going to be a fun weekend.”  That’s the thing about Derek.  He has such a dry but witty sense of humor.  He could always sense when I was feeling nervous and tried to make me feel comfortable.  We had already had some questionable treatment from Derek’s “friends” and Helen had made things less than easy.  Mid flight Derek grabbed my hand and held it tightly.  He said, “They are going to love you.  If for nothing else because I love you.”  And there it was.  My trade.  I had traded my pride and my ability to recognize reality for the hope of true love.  This had never happened to me before.  I could look into Derek’s eyes and get lost in them.  But then again, what does that really mean?  Losing myself?  Losing my voice?  Losing my freedom?

After a day of helicopters and aerial tours of seeing Derek and Aitan’s new property investment, I was tired.  Maybe a bit edgy, too.  I had spent the day listening to Aitan tell Derek he was “the king of the world”.  I was hungry and hadn’t had my standard intake of cokes and I probably needed a nap…  From a bird’s eye view doesn’t land all begin to look the same?  These aren’t the new season of strappy heels we’re talking about.

We got back to the hotel (famous for where Bush 42 stayed) and we were short on time.  I showered and threw together an outfit quickly.  I wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about fashion because after all we were in Texas.  After 20 minutes we were out the door.  Aitan had come to pick us up and Dana was at the restaurant waiting for us.  I had liked Aitan immediately.  He was funny and sharp and did seem to truly care for Derek.  He had a sadness in his eyes that I couldn’t quite figure out.  Maybe it was sadness or maybe it was his training in the Israeli military.  Whatever it was, it was vacant but a bit haunting.

I was hoping Dana was going to be as easy to be around as Aitan.  We all walked into the restaurant and Dana was waiting for us at the bar.  She immediately started to berate Aitan for being tardy.  I held out my hand to introduce myself and she barreled past me and threw her arms around Derek.  I was engulfed with that sixth sense again.  It wasn’t whispering, it was yelling.  “Run for cover!!!”  But instead of allowing myself to hear the warning I just smiled.  I had gotten quite good at that.

Derek felt the tension.  He stepped back from Dana and said, “Here she is.  This is Oriana.  O, meet Dana.”  After peeling herself off of Derek, she finally acknowledged me.  She didn’t look me in the eyes at any point of the introduction,  “Well,” she said “isn’t she lovely.”  She?  Was I not standing right in front of her?  And did I detect a tone?  Mother was actually the only person in this world who could use “the tone”.  Suddenly I felt like I was standing beneath a magnifying glass.  And mother always said, “Lighting is crucial.  If you are standing in the perfect angle a fire would eventually spark.”

We were shown to our table and by “our table” I mean Derek, Aitan, and Dana’s.  I was merely an ornament.  I felt like I was walking down a plank to my own funeral.  What I didn’t know was that I was attending a glimpse of what was to be a very slow death.  It was the death of “us”.  Thank God I was wearing my uniform of all black.

Before we finally sat down there was mass confusion.  Who would sit by whom?  Dana had stated that she wanted to sit by Derek and she knew Aitan would want to sit by Derek so my first olive branch I held out to her was “I can sit at the table next to yours.  Then you both can sit by Derek and there would be no confusion.  Just make sure you pass the salt.”  Little did I know that the salt would be used to cast into my wounds from Helen.

The conversation was forced.  Derek was obviously uncomfortable but I am not sure if it was because of Dana’s attack or my response.  I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just let me sit at the other table.  I wasn’t looking for any reassurance of myself.  I actually thought that the conversation within my own mind would have been more entertaining.  Aitan did not say a single word over the first course and Dana did not even realize I was there.  I had maxxed out on my give a shit level because I was hungry.  I was in the Lone Star State and in order to handle being accosted any further, I needed a steak.

I had been daydreaming and didn’t realize the topic of conversation had switched from Jackson Pollock to my personal method of birth control.  Yes, I had always loved the arts and hearing discussions on others opinions about how it made them feel, but did I just hear her say to Derek “how do you know that she takes the pill?  Do you watch her swallow it everyday?  Did you pick up the prescription?  How do you KNOW, I mean really KNOW that she is taking a birth control hormone?  She could have switched the tablets.”

Ready!  Aim!  Fire!!!  It was a full on attack.  An attack on my integrity.  A lack of respect to me, and more importantly to her beloved Derek.  My mind was racing.  I had so many things I wanted to shout at her.  She clearly wasn’t aware that I knew how she forced herself on Aitan.  And Derek clearly hadn’t told her much about me.  If he had, she would have known that I was independent and strong and I would survive.  How can you give someone the world when they have already seen it on their own merit?  Had she had any history about me she would know that I could smell the difference between new money and old money.  Maybe she was on to me.  Or maybe she was just a bitch in sheep’s clothing.

Unlike most Israeli’s I have known, Aitan chose to retreat.  Isn’t it his culture that teaches to strike back only when struck upon?  Obviously he had just lived in Texas too long.  So my eyes immediately darted to Derek.  I was waiting to hear the sonic booms of fighter jets above.  I knew he was going to defend me and defend my honor.   I was positive he was going to stand up for me.  Waiting.  Just waiting.  And then Derek quietly said, “Yes, I watch her take the pill everyday.”  Was that his remedial version of “Stand and Deliver?”  That was his defense?  “Yes, I watch her?”  For a man with such potential to be so great it was an enormous disappointment.  I thought I had seen so much in my travels.  I thought that I had seen the many facets of bartering and selling out.  This however, was something different.

With every last bite of my remaining meal, I swallowed more than dinner.  I was swallowing my own pride.  I was swallowing the hope that this could have been something pure.  I was swallowing the hurt of being something not worth fighting for to Derek.  I was swallowing a rage that I had never felt before.  I was forcing all of it down.  I was full but just when I thought I couldn’t eat another bite, I swallowed some more.  “Get it down, just keep it down” I was telling myself.  I was chewing away self-awareness.  I was chewing away at pieces of my soul.  “Keep it down,” I kept thinking.

Just when I thought that I had learned all I could from the modeling world I had a gross reflection.  Pascal in all of her glory was bulimic.  I never understood how someone so riveting that we all worshiped could have been so hollow.  She was exactly who we all wanted her to be.  A doll if you will, whom we would dress up and revere but secretly always someone we hoped to become.  She was a shell.  And for the first time I understood her illness.  I no longer worshiped her.  Her sadness was toxic.  She was so misunderstood.  I am positive that she would be shocked at the impact she had on me when it was such an influential time in my life.  So yes, at that moment in what I refer to as ‘The Last Supper’, I kept it down.  I didn’t do it for Derek, I did it for myself.  I did it for Pascal and all the other nameless empty beauties that the world worships.  I kept it down because I had the courage to do so.  And it was at that moment that I made the decision to purge.  And I began to write our eulogy.  It began with “and then she rises.” And I WAS NOT referring to my dessert.

*Oriana

Swimming With The Fish Can Sometimes Bite Off More Than You Can Chew

Another disclaimer:  I will only refer to Derek's children as the heir (son) and the ballerina (daughter).  Their anonymity is most important to me.


The day after meeting Derek's son, we had made another afternoon date to take him to a local game room so I could further try and bond with him and show him that I was actually fun.  While playing a very competitive game of ski-ball, his son began to tell me a story of his dad's aquarium.  While listening to the story, I thought it was partially made up from an 8 year old imagination.  After dropping his son off at his mothers house, I told Derek of the crazy story his son had told me.


Funny enough, his son was telling the truth.  Derek had always wanted one of the most world's coveted home aquariums.  He had flown to Fiji with his cousins, privately of course, to dive and hand pick the coral and fish he wanted.  He hired engineers from 3 different countries to build a 400,000 gallon or something of that size, half the room of the basement, aquarium.  It was a project and a half, not to mention an enormous fortune.  Once the aquarium had been built, the fish and coral flown in, it was what Derek declared a personal masterpiece.  After only having it for a few short weeks, he went down to enjoy a glass of wine and sit in front of it.  The floor was soaking wet and the aquarium had leaked and was nearly empty.  Immediately he reached out to everyone to come help save his fish and coral, but most did not survive.


As if that wasn't enough, Derek doesn't take defeat well at all.  So he hired new engineers and had the aquarium rebuilt, re mastered and was convinced this was leak proof.  Again he dove to pick his fish and coral and was quite happy at the end result.  But again, while heading down to feed the fish, he realized the glass had bowed and was leaking yet again.  This time he could rescue most of it and ended up donating the fish and coral to the local Shedd aquarium.  I am not sure what made him not decide to try a third time, whether it be the finances behind it, the constant replacement of new carpeting, or realizing that it just wasn't possible to the scale he would be satisfied.


I found this story hilarious, riveting, quite stubborn, however so passionate about something he had always dreamed of and didn't give up on.  It hands down was one of the craziest stories I had ever heard and it made me wonder about Derek and his thinking... "Was it ever enough?".  And five years later I can simply answer with one word.  "No".


*Oriana

Time To Meet The Heir...

As agreed on the day prior, it was time to meet the Cohen children.  The ballerina wouldn't be able to join as she was at rehearsal so it was Derek, his 8 year old son, and myself.  He properly greeted me, shook my hand and introduced himself.  He seemed shy and a bit fidgety.  We were seated at our table and I found it rather difficult to talk with him.  He seemed rather mature, quiet and a bit resentful.  Every chance he could he would talk of his mother.  And I get that.  I can't imagine how hard it would be to have separate homes...  


He had virtually no manners, was entitled and demanding.  I was completely turned off and could tell that Derek was embarrassed.  After all, the reason his son is this way is because of Helen and Derek.  "No" wasn't a term he was familiar with and I have never met an 8 year old who orders an Arnold Palmer and filet mignon.  I tried to find common interests to talk with him about.  I received nothing back.


It was hard for me to have these feelings for Derek that were so strong but imagining his entitled little boy in my future.  I was in fear of meeting his daughter as I could only imagine that being an even bigger disaster.  I  then promised myself I would allow them to approach me and learn to like me on their terms.  And that meant risking that they may never like me at all.  But I was willing to give it a chance for love.


Looking back at that decision is one of the most complicated, difficult, rewarding promises I ever made myself.  And I can say whole heartedly, that I ended up loving those two kids as if they were my own.  They too are part of this great love affair...


*Oriana

Nobody Likes A Quitter

Shortly after Derek and I returned from the Dominican he said he had a surprise for me.  He picked me up mid afternoon and wouldn't tell me where we were headed.  I had become quite smitten with him because the time we spent alone he was mesmerizing.  We shared the same end goals in life and he spoke with such passion about life.  At this point he hadn't shared too much about his family except he was quite tired of being used by his sister Helen.  She was making a move to Colorado as to gain her own "life", in her own words.  And he was elated.


We drove to a suburb about 45 minutes out of the city and there was never silence.  We finished each others  sentences, laughed alot and held hands the entire drive.  In my mind I was toast.  We pulled into a very nondescript strip mall of sorts.  Once parked, he rushed around his car to open my door for me.  Apparently chivalry was not dead...  I asked again, "what are we doing?".  He simply answered, "you'll see...".  We walked into an office and it was at that point I realized he had made an appointment for me to see a hypnotise  to quit smoking.  Wow.  We had never even discussed it, and I smoked very little around him.


Living in Chicago, smoking just sort of becomes a lifestyle.  Yes, I am aware of the dangers and knew I would quit when I was ready.  But having someone make this decision for me without even discussion made me uncomfortable.  Not real comfortable with my voice yet, I submitted and sat and allowed a hypnotise to work his magic.  I am sure this works for some, but I am willing to bet it is because they are ready to quit.  But, because I was falling in love with Derek, I was willing to give it a shot.  Let's just say when the session was over, I walked out of the office and wanted to light up.  Out of respect for Derek, I didn't but asked him to drive me to Walgreen's so I could purchase the nicotine patches.  I was actually going to try to quit for Derek.


He told me how proud of me he was and that he believed in me, and I was truly going to make a valiant effort to quit.  He took me to dinner after to celebrate my new found non smoker lifestyle.  Over dinner we talked politics, he told me about his kids, I told him of my love for horses and shared my bucket list.  He asked me if I was ready to meet his children as he was ready to introduce them to me, knowing in his heart I was the "One".  I was petrified but agreed.  I didn't even know if I was good with kids as it had been decades since I interacted with them.  And I also knew that initially they would be tough to win over and resentful that I wasn't their mother.  I hadn't met anyone else in his family yet so I guess meeting his children was the natural progression.


We set a date for the following evening as he had his kids 4 days a week.  His daughter wouldn't be able to join us as she had her rigid ballet schedule.  So it would be just me and the boys.  I was nervous but looked forward to it.  I hope they liked me because I too started to believe that Derek was the "One".


When Derek dropped me off at my apartment I immediately lit a cigarette and called Laney to tell her of the latest events.  Looking back I should have realized that you can't change for anybody, only for yourself.  Such an obvious lesson, but one I was too blinded by falling in love to see.


To Be continued....


*Oriana

Helen's Haunt Me

My life living like a gypsy has taken me down some tumultuous romantic roads.  My history with love has been nothing short of colorful. 

First there was the musician.  He was a tortured soul that seemed to be extremely affected.  He loved playing the philosophers role while any Led Zeppelin song was blaring in the backround like his anthem.  The truth was that he was from an upper middle class suburban family and he was searching for a level of personal depth that he would never find.  I guess he was just born in the wrong era.

Then there was my first live in.  This was my first “real” love.  We traveled together and were enchanting in the public eye.  We spent so much time talking about our future that the present was less than mediocre.  To the public we were the “it” couple.  Everyone aspired to be as perfect as us but what no one knew was as soon as we were alone it was quiet.  Not an angry quiet.  There was no tension between us.  In fact there was nothing between us.  The only thing we had in common was that we were both in love with him.  After years of pretending I knew the end was near.  Knowing that this would be the most painful heartbreak I would suffer from, my greater hope for “more” was answered. 

I was single for years after that, truly believing that what I wanted didn’t really exist.  Then I took a risk and met Derek.  He was everything on my list and so much more.  I just didn’t realize how systematically the “more” would become.  It was THE love story that everyone talked about.  My heart said dive in head first but my head said proceed with caution.  Being smitten we all know I listened to my heart.  Big mistake.  Derek promised me the world on a platinum platter.  He came through on most all of his promises. 

What he failed to mention was how co-dependent and entitled his immediate family was.  There was no battles to win, I had already lost the war.  In their minds, I was a gold digging model who was pierced and tattooed and didn’t have any other understanding of the affluent lifestyle.  I had no business dating Derek as I would never be good enough for him.  Little did they know his private jet wasn’t the first or the biggest I had ever been on.  That I was well read, and world traveled and there was nothing Derek could introduce me to that I hadn’t already experienced on my own merit.

Did I mention that Derek’s sister, coincidentally named Helen as well, was best friends with Dereks ex wife Helen?  Enter the incest, gossip, and under handed agendas. And what I learned very early on is that Derek enjoyed throwing me to the wolves.  He reveled in being fought over.  He never defended me or stuck up on my behalf.  Derek and I didn’t have any private moments.  His sister or his ex wife were always in the know.  And judging, always judging me.  They were only interested in watching me fail.  And I didn’t fail .  After years together, and much emotional abuse from his entire family, I was the one that left him.  The jealousy was so evident that I didn’t need him.  This goes back to “I should’ve listened to my head, because my heart wasn’t capable of seeing the detriments that would follow”.

*Oriana

Love Is Love

I want my readers to know that this relationship was real.  I will tell the truth in ALL forms.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  At present I have only written about the beginning of our love story. I have openly admitted that I am a skeptic and often am guilty of over analyzing then overlooking things.  This is merely my side of the story.  Derek has spent a year publicly telling his version and I thought it was time to tell mine.  This blog isn't going to be a forum for me to bash him because after all he ended up being the love of my life to this day.  And I have already expressed that I hate martyrs and victims.

You will read in future blogs of his sweet nothings, him being one of the greatest father's I have ever known, his loyalty to his family and the journeys of our love affair.  Looking back at it now, I am grateful that I lived and loved him, but even more grateful that I learned to find the courage to love myself more.  Derek was tenacious and charismatic and his personality was infectious.  Unfortunately, he just didn't have the courage to live in reality.  It was such a juxtaposition... He was one of the greatest men I had ever met, but without his fortune he was a complete coward.

I will talk of our romances, our travels, his eagerness to please me.  I will take full responsibility for my errors in this relationship, as well.  I will share all of our history, as it has made me the woman I am today.  And I am very proud of that.  But let me remind you, the other shoe always drops.  And once your heart is invested a million percent, your mind doesn't mean anything anymore.  And after all, Love is love...

To be continued...

*Oriana

Before We Became Us

Here's just a little bit of history of Derek and I separately, before we became "us"...

There are these moments in life that you wake up and you just know.  You can feel it in your entire being.  It is the feeling of great finality and new beginnings.  It is as if your sixth sense is warning you, bracing you, saying “this will only hurt for a minute…”  They say that I should be thankful for this experience.  They tell me “this too shall pass…” .  And I can only say on this sad day, I have reached an epifane.  Mother did always say “be careful who you date because you may fall in love.”

My name is Oriana.  I would say that I am a fairly simple girl although others have described me as “intense”.  I am the age old thirty something who is searching for my own sense of self.  My right of passage has been shall we say a bit unstructured?  I come from a very eclectic  family who is fiercely loyal.  Mother is always telling me to sit up straight, always wear clean underwear, and what ever I do… don’t ever bring home a bartender, a musician, or an accountant.  Up until today I have attempted to bring home all three.

Some look at me and think life has been too good.  I guess I could agree if I was looking at my life the way most people look at a Dali.  It is beautiful and intoxicating from afar, but up close it gets a bit chaotic.  You almost have to squint to try to make out what the  painting is.  What the hell was he thinking?  But maybe, just maybe, it is perception.

I have lived the classic tale of Cinderella, the dyslecxic version.  I am lucky to say that although brief (even though it feels like a lifetime of Stanley Kubrik movies) I experienced what most strive for.  I was given everything and I have nothing to show for it… with the exception of louis vuitton luggage  and an enormous “library” of Jimmy Choos, and Christian Laboutin’s.

It was my first and only blind date.  A trusted friend (who I’d like to note is the opposite sex) called me and said that I have the “set up of a lifetime.”  Immediately I hesitated wondering if he was such a Romeo why is he such a tough sell?  Oriana he said “have I ever tried to set you up in the 7 years I have known you?  He is divorced, very successful, and to my knowledge he loves his mother”.  Yes I agreed to go but I was still skeptical.  I think that was the “whisper” that Oprah keeps talking about… Oh, if I had only listened to my gut.

At  41 Derek had made quite a name for himself.  He made money managing other people’s money.  He was self made, he was the American dream  Along the way he married his college sweetheart had 2 kids and was set off to live happily ever after.  This was all of course before the mega millions.  As the modern day Rain Man, he seemed to have it all.  Tenacity, business savvy, strategy, and what appeared to be integrity.  Everyone loved to be around Derek hoping that his success, his wealth was contagious. 

My first trip abroad was to Tokyo.  I was 14 years old and I packed up my life (in 1 suitcase) and headed out for my big modeling debut.  I was 5’11”, freakishly thin but eager to prove myself.  There was no other world that I could relate to where being thin and tall wasn’t grounds for persecution.   I was excited to enter a “family” of girls who were going through the same thing.  I was so anxious to be seen as human.  When I arrived to Narita airport a sense of calm set over me.  It’s those moments that you just know…  I had arrived.  I was no longer Oriana Schatan.  From this moment forward I was simply Oriana.

Growing up in a middle class family in a predominantly sheltered suburb was like a double edge sword for Derek.  Scholastically he had the opportunity to shine but was still subject to the scrutiny of cliques.  He never had a date or went to Prom, and although his life seemed pretty ordinary he was destined for greatness.  He was the son of very intelligent parents who although were not warm, were big on guidance.  He lived in their home like a fixture, following all rules and doing as they said.  He lived vicariously through statistics and was turned on my mathematics.  He read books on history and starting plotting his escape of the dulldroms from early on.

Nobody can prepare you for emancipation.  A complete stranger was standing at my airport gate with a sign that said “Oriana”.  I had never seen this man in my life but I felt like I could trust him.  He spoke little English and escorted me to the limousine that was to take me to my model housing.  It was the middle of the night when I arrived and the drive from the airport to my new life seemed endless.  We pulled up to a non descript apartment building and my driver helped me maneuver my enormous suitcase into what was the smallest elevator I have ever seen.   The elevator door opened on my floor and he handed me a key.  That was it. A key.  The elevator door closed behind me and I was left alone.  It was that moment that I tried to summons all that mother had taught me and I promised myself  then and there that I would never sell my soul. 

When walking into his college dorm for the first time, Derek was ackward and shy.  His roommate who was equally gawky introduced himself as a tech geek.  This was the beginning of a new friendship and a new life.  Derek had just left his comfort zone.  He was no longer “special” because he was now on a campus of the intellectual elite.  He would have to do something to stand out.  This is where he forced himself to think outside the box.   After his first semester and a stellar report card Derek started spending time with what would be his first girlfriend.  She was dynamic and the life of the party.  She was also a very mean drunk.   He found himself being an enabler because he didn’t want to be alone again.  He didn’t want to be the small town genius.  He vowed he would never be alone again.

When I turned the key and stepped into the apartment the silence was deafening.  It was pitch black and it smelled of a foreign incense.  I flipped the hall light switch on and gasped at what I saw.  It was a studio apartment with wall to wall mattresses on the floor.  There were bodies everywhere and I was petrified to move forward.  A voice came out of the darkness that said what I think translated to “that bed is yours.”  I said “hello, my name is Oriana.”.  There was nothing.  No response. I was not sure if there was just a language barrier or if this was what my future was facing. I was exhausted because it was such a long flight so I left my suitcase in the hallway (big mistake) and collapsed on my new designated bed.  I fell asleep replaying a conversation mother and I had had when I was packing back at home.  She had said “you have always been the mysterious one of my children.  Oriana, you will survive.  Life has no dress rehearsals so live outloud.  Live for yourself.  Don’t ever waiver on your personal morals and remember who you are.  Money is only currency”.  Had I known that she was forshadowing my life’s greatest challenges, I would have never packed amd left home.

Trade came easy to Derek.  It started off with the idea of tutoring the cute girl for her adoration to buying and selling what most would think are shanty antiques.  He started using his brain as power and was slowly beginning to build his self esteem.  He loved being the allstar student and reveled in the attention he was receiving.  His grades were consistently outstanding and he was breezing through his course work.  It was in this time that he had met his future wife Helen.  She was a cheerleader from good stock and seemed to appreciate Derek for more than equations.  Unlike Derek, Helen didn‘t know what she wanted to be when she grew up.  What she did know was that she  didn’t want a life less ordinary and she had a certain sense that Derek was going to be able to provide that, eventually on a Tiffany & Co. silver platter.

“Name?”

“Oriana”

“Height?”

“5”11.”

“bust, waist, hips?”

“31,21,32”

“age?”

“14”

“Domain?”

“American.”

“Kowaii, neh?  But mother agency lied.  Your thighs shake too much when you walk”. This is my first conversation in Tokyo.  Roughly 11 hours after I arrived I had slept, been yelled at in French for my suitcase being in the hallway, realized our 1 bathroom for 12 girls had a heated toilet seat, was surprised the telephone ring is completely different then in the US, and had not met anyone besides the angry French girl that I was now living with.  They were gone.  All the girls were gone.  The same man who dropped me off there had knocked on the door and said “you have 10 minutes then we go.  Agency is waiting.”  I threw together what I thought was a stylish modely outfit, brushed my teeth with my fingers because I had no time to find my toothbrush, and got hustled off to my agency.  When I walked into the agency to meet my new booker’s I was feeling timid.  There were beautiful people everywhere.  It was a crazy energy and I felt completely out of my realm.  Then a girl walked into the room.   She had this presence that I still cannot explain.  She walked right up to me and said “Bon jour Oriana, did you rest well?”  I was in awe.  I just smiled and nodded my head.  I recognized her voice.  It was the crazy French girl.  I now know her as Pascal.

Their romance was a whirlwind.  Helen and Derek had similar upbringing’s and honestly their parents were just relieved.  Derek’s because he’s no longer lonely, and Helen's because they frankly just wanted to have someone else take care her.  After getting married they immediately started to try and have a family.  Derek was now in grad school and moonlighting as a teacher of statistics.  Helen was working part time but waiting for the moment she would be barefoot and pregnant.  They seemed to be the happy couple living behind a white picket fence.  They were very social in their community and seemed normal and happy.  With the support of Helen, Derek decided to start his own company.  He was confident that he would be successful and she knew that in order for her to live the life she wanted that this was the make or break it moment.

I quickly realized that Pascal was the golden child of the agency.  She was working everyday, she casted privately, she was too busy to socialize, and she was extremely well published.  Being the new girl who had no experience living with 11 other models in a co-ed models apartment, I had a lot to learn.  I chose to study Pascal and seek her guidance.  I found myself trying to emulate her.  Pascal was guarded initially but we slowly became friends.  She taught me so much.  Watching her and how she operated her life on all levels showed me the courage to be loyal… most importantly to myself.

There were some mornings that I woke up and didn’t know what time zone I was in.  I could however tell you what city I was in on what continent based on the subway systems.  I was my own worst standard bearer constantly trying to make accurate moral judgments.  Temptation is a cruel thing.  As a model you are always invited to the “it” parties, drenched in designer clothing, and rubbing elbows with the worlds most beautiful people.  It is like a secret society of the formally uneducated.  The voyeurs would do anything to just get into this world thinking it is a lot more posh than it is.  And the one’s that still have a back bone wonder how difficult life is going to be when you get out.

Although there was never an easy year, Derek’s company and public notoriety as a savvy businessman was gaining momentum.  His little engine that could was becoming a multi million dollar empire.  With this success Derek’s lifestyle was also transitioning.  Helen was living her dream by being a stay at home mom and Derek was finding any reason at all to have a business meeting in New York.  Anything just to not have to come home.  With every million dollar profit marriage was looking more and more unattractive to Derek.  He was feeling suffocated and sttiffled.  He had this notion that after spending a lifetime of being overlooked that this was now what he deserved.  And when I say “this” I mean freedom and lack of accountability.  Suddenly people started to come out of the woordwork and Derek was feeling something foreign.  He was feeling popular.  People were starting to “sell” themselves to he and Helen.  They were becoming the center of attention in their community.  They were jetsetting on their new private plane and mingling with upper eschelon of society.  They were beginning to buy into it. 

Everyone’s perception of happiness is different.  Denial too has a price.  The richer Derek got the more detached he became from Helen.  He eventually found his way out of their bed and into his office conference room with her best friend.  Sue was the wife of another couple that Helen and Derek socialized with frequently.  Their kids were growing up together.  Derek enjoyed being sought after and Sue was a sex machine.  She would be his puppet, even though it was only in the bedroom.  Helen would never admit to Derek’s affair.  I think she just didn’t want to be the town crier.  And after all, she would eventually receive half of his fortune.

The level of prestige in modeling is overwhelming.  It is a constant struggle to determine what is reality and what is fantasy.  It is a lifestyle of bottled promise and self discipline.  There is always an underlying level of question and intent and being an object becomes your fulltime job.  There has to be a level of narcissism to survive. And mother always said “the only person you can trust is yourself.”.

There has been much speculation of what really happened between Helen and Derek.  And I don’t think anyone will ever know.  After more than a decade Derek filed for divorce.  It was a strange split because they remained the best of friends.  Surprisingly coincidental enough, Sue left her husband.  Derek publicly started dating Sue shortly there after.  After spending a few volatile years with Sue, Derek left her and started his journey looking for something that was beautiful.

I decided after living  like a gypsy for so long to settle down stateside.  I wanted to dig in some roots and develop friendships and live life under the radar.  I was exhausted by the lifestyle of show and tell and just wanted to figure out what normal was like.  I felt like I had gone as far as I could go without compromising my moral character.  I had seen the world in the raw flesh.  I had starved to pay rent, owned only a suitcase of belongings, lived alone, and did not know what stable meant.  I had sold the accessories as a model, and been the accessory as a model.  I was starting to feel like this empty vessel without a voice.  I was scared to leave this world because I have never known anything else.  It is an adjustment that I still struggle with.  I am still guarded but am certain that there is still greatness out there for me.  I too threw caution to the wind and sought out a personal journey looking for something beautiful…

*Oriana

Grab Your Passport, We Are Headed To The Dominican Republic

Dominican Republic                                                                                              

When money comes into the picture suddenly the once empty social calendar gets filled.  Everybody wants to know somebody.  And it’s strange when the emphasis and attention suddenly shifts overnight.  I was used to being the one sought after, the object of desire.  And now my ability to imitate Vanna White is unparalleled.  I had to learn to swallow the fact that it was no longer about me.  But it wasn’t necessarily about Derek, either.  It was all about Derek’s money.

With a private jet ready to whisk you off to somewhere exotic, there is always an A list, a B list, and a C list.  This consisted of a strange melting pot of the independantly wealthy, the tragically insecure, and the completely desperate.  Usually the A list has a prior engagement like a board meeting of a publicly traded company.  The B list is, well, usually family because in their mind it is their God given right.  Then there is the C list.  This is usually the group of “friends” that can always drop something important for a weekend of indulgence with Derek. 

I had traveled privately in the past when I was still modeling.  It was usually a very lame scene.   Simply a speedy transport from one photographer’s studio to New York fashion week.  Girl gets on airplane; girl sits down and immediately puts in her Ipod earphones.  Girl then pulls out book about Niche or something equivalently cerebral.  Girl turns down any offer of catering.  After all, “girl” was still modeling.  Girl occasionally spritzes her clean face with Evian while pretending to not be interested in any outside conversation.  Girl then catnaps.

This trip to the Dominican Republic was going to be different.  Derek and I had been seeing each other casually for about six weeks.  I had accompanied him to New York for day trips, I would shop and he would “meet”.  This would be our first overnight trip and the pressure of expectation was at an all time high.  I had been to the Dominican Republic before and was unimpressed so why would this trip be different?

As I started to hand my bag to Sonia, Derek’s flight attendant, all I saw was a hand.  It wasn’t Derek’s hand but it was a mans hand.  It was abnormally hairy and for some strange reason I couldn’t take my eyes away from it.  Then I looked up.  Derek said, “Oriana, this is Steve Seaver and his beautiful bride Jemma.”  Yes, sitting before me with his hairy palms and his 6 foot tall wife who was 35 years his junior was one of Hollywood’s C list.  He had been in many direct to video movies and occasionally peddled commercial jingles when he was short on cash.  And Jemma, well, supposedly she was a one-time model.  And I am not normally catty but she was, how should I say it, big boned?

In the four-hour flight I learned that Jemma signed a pre-nup that stated no more Seaver offspring but she was certain she could change Steve.  Steve was pushing 65 years old and trying to live vicariously through Derek’s money.  He wanted funding for some off, off, off Broadway musical of which he would produce, direct, cast, act, write music and sing in.  Derek actually seemed interested.  And while hanging on to Steve’s every word, he whispered to me to “try and not look so bored”.  The truth is, I felt like I was in Asia again.  I couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of Steve’s mouth.  And Jemma was just loud.  She laughed at all the wrong things and tried to appear well studied to Derek.  This was a world that I was so used to being in.  But the thing I had learned that Jemma never got was to be quiet.  Intelligence and wisdom are two things that could always spook the wealthy.  Jemma tried to pull rank by constantly referring to Derek’s past.  “Derek, remember when you and so and so came to our wedding?”  “Oh Derek, I still just carry around and show off that giant Louis Vuitton duffle bag you got us for our wedding…” Oh god, the puke was rising in the back of my throat.  This was going to be a long weekend and I am hoping to be nominated for an Oscar for my performance.

We landed in the Dominican and immediately we had security rushing around us.  I kept looking around for a celebrity who was actually noted.  There was no one famous.  It was for Derek.  Huh?  He had hired security because we were going to a third world country.  The Dominican Republic wasn’t exactly the Middle East but Derek liked the ambiance that security added.  Even though he paid for it himself, it was good for his ego.

I still was unsure about what we were exactly doing in the Dominican.  I had managed to learn about all of Steve’s ex wives as seen through the eyes of Jemma.  I had gorged myself with gross amounts of food because, well, I simply could.  And I had seen an envy in Derek’s eyes.  I knew we were there for some sort of charity outing where the rich and famous all meet to raise money for a needy cause.  The catch was, nobody was sure about what the cause was.  We arrived at a pristine hotel that we had driven through 3 barrios to get to.  The lobby was decorated with C actors.  Most of them in flux and hoping that their next project would give them their big break.  And to my surprise they all seemed to know Derek on a first name basis. 

“Derek Cohen, have you met so and so?” said one actor.  It wasn’t until I recognized an actor who had a small role on Beverly Hills 90210 that I realized what was really going on.  These are “celebrities” and I use that term loosely- mingling with the anonymous faces of donors.  These actors were riding on the coat tails of the faceless rich to foot the bill of their weekend.  It was all done in the name of charity.  I was already being faced with the struggle of keeping my mouth shut when Derek pulled me over to introduce me to someone.  Derek was standing proud and hoping to impress me when he said “Oriana, I want you to meet a friend of mine.  Robin Leach this is the lovely Oriana.”  “Please to finally meet you.  It has always been a dream of mine,” I said with a light undertone of sarcasm.  Robin just laughed it off and said, “of course darling, the pleasure is ALL mine.”  I started to wonder if this was all a bad joke.  Mother has always told me “be weary of those who try to hitch a trailer to a star.”

Derek and I finally separated ourselves from everyone and went to check in to our hotel room.  I almost asked him if an onsite psychiatrist was available to make 24-hour room service calls.  I didn’t know where to begin.  I started to relive all the commentary of the day.  It was random, I was confused, and frankly I was exhausted.  I had arrived in this gorgeous environment with perfectly balmy weather and white sand beaches and I was scared.  Fearful of what may come out of my mouth and fearful that Derek really did admire these people. 

We had flown in on a private jet and we were staying in a first class suite in a setting that most would call paradise.  But I was strangely turned off.  I know I have spent most of my life selling different ideas of “beautiful” but this was crossing in to the superficially unknown.  I wasn’t sure what the intrigue was.    Usually as a model you are informed of the end result of what the client is hoping that you will successfully sell.  And as someone who is familiar with trade the goal is to buy low and sell high.  But this was just madness.  This was a strange mesh of celebrity hopefuls or has beens schmoozing with the people who write the checks.  And I did wonder, what was Derek getting out of this?  And more importantly now, what the hell were we doing there?

 The morning after we arrived I woke up strangely tense.  Derek kissed my forehead and whispered “good morning, O”.  I responded with “what is on our agenda for the day?  Shaking hands and kissing babies?”  I felt strangely like a trophy but I couldn’t decide if Derek was treating me like that or if I was just sensing my purpose in his life.  So instead of peddling something that the sponsors weren’t even passionate about themselves, I did what every model would do.  I put on my bikini and went to the pool.  Derek joined me and kept trying to figure out why I seemed so cold.  I just couldn’t kick the idea of this type of trade.  It was a vicious cycle.  Derek traded his money for a glimpse into the surreal life, Steve traded his pride by selling his Broadway musical to Derek, and I somehow just had to shelf every possible thing I stood for.  And this was only day 1 of a 4 day weekend.

Freshly showered and made up I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I laid in the sun.  My skin had quickly turned its standard golden brown, which makes my brown eyes look more intense. I always wanted blue eyes because I thought they would look so much better with my mahogany locks.  But brown it was.  Looking in the mirror I had always forgotten how ethnic I look with sun kissed skin.  And I must admit that I was feeling a lot more relaxed than earlier in the day.  I had managed to dodge Jemma on various occasions.  For starters she keeps calling me Arianna.  Aeriola was another favorite.  So while she shouted the wrong name I pretended to not see or hear her.  Thank heaven's for giant Chanel sunglasses.  Some may think that I was being rude, but remember Jemma is the girl who did just fly here on my new beau’s jet.  One would think she could remember a name.

I decided to go with a safe outfit.  I felt like I needed to strap on some type of armor or maybe a muzzle.  I could sense that Derek was feeling a bit nervous too, because I think I was reminding him of his life pre-riches.  Oh, the good old days.  Back when people did not want you to invest in property but more their lives.  I bet he feared what I may react to and I think we were both questioning what we were doing there.  I mean, doing there with each other.  I was investing in him as a person and my fears were he was investing in me as a trophy.

Derek said, “O, are you ready?  The dinner and auction are in about 15 minutes.”  “Yes”, I said while smearing on some pink gloss.  “Hey Derek?” I asked while throwing my last few items in to my little black clutch.  “Yes honey bee?”  Huh?   Call me jaded but was that really my new name?  “Is this going to be an event that is interactive?”  I asked.  “Interactive?  First, there will be a silent auction followed by a mediocre dinner while Robin (Leach) mc’s a live auction.”  In a world where people make a career by talking out of both sides of their mouths there would be a silent auction?   Oh the irony.  That alone was going to be entertaining for me.  I get to watch C actors walk around and try to outbid each other by writing their name on a sheet of paper.  Even better, as a “nobody” in their world I got to stand amidst them all while they gossiped about each other and judged their intensity of “caring” by how much money they offered up.  But nothing could prepare me for the main event.  It was amusing, it was predictable, but most of all it was humiliating.  We sat at a table with the Seavers, the new happy couple and I were a front row spectator of a heated ping-pong match.  “No Billy, I invited Derek.”  Stated Steve Seaver.  “Actually, it was me who sent the invitation to his office.” Retorted Billy.  Back and forth it went throughout each course of dinner.  It was unreal.  I had never witnessed in the flesh a true non-K9 peeing on trees.  “Are you kidding me?” I said to Derek probably a bit louder than I should.  “Did you cure cancer or something?”  He smirked.  But it was obvious that he loved it.  He leaned and whispered quietly but with a bit of authority “Oriana, just smile.”  That is the first moment that I can remember when looking back that I had traded something myself.

It happens to every girl I know.  There is a pivotal moment in a relationship that sneaks up on us when we are least expecting it.  It is like a twisted game of hide and seek. Just when you think it is hiding in the closet BOOM! It jumps out from behind the door and scares the shit out of you.  And it’s always a surprise.  Even though you are looking for it and eager to find it, it inevitably knocks the wind out of you.  And you can only pray to the God’s above that you are wearing your smartest jeans and it is a great hair day.  Maybe this is what mother was referring to when she advised me to “always be sure to wear clean underwear.”

I continued to smile.  Maybe it was all of my training from modeling.  But how is it that I just switched from editorial model to commercial actress?  I began to justify and dissect what he meant by saying “just smile.”  And now began a new challenge that I set for myself.  And to this day I wonder what if?  What if I just stood up and placed my napkin gently on Derek’s lap and walked away?  What if I had picked up my pride and stuffed it in my prada purse and cat walked my way out of Hollywood  “has been” hell?  Would that photo have made it into the coveted Page Six?  Would there have been an impact of deliverance?  I will never know.  But it was this moment, this pivotal shift in the stream.  “Fuck it.”  I thought.  “Here is your smile baby.  Even better?  I am one step ahead of you.  I can smile with my eyes…”

The morning after the big event I woke up to an empty bed.  I slid out of the protection of 800-thread count sheets to discover that Derek was sitting out on the balcony chatting away on his cell phone.  I joined him and he smiled and mouthed “good morning sunshine.”  After about 15 minutes of idle chit chat he hung up.  I asked, “Who were you talking to so early in the morning?”  “Helen” he said matter of factly.  “Oh.  Is everything alright with your kids?” I asked.  “Oh yes, Helen was just telling me about some of the rumors she had heard about us at the tanning salon.”  “Rumors?”  “Well you know.  It’s always your classic case of people and envy.  The news is that you are just letting me be your sugar daddy.”  My only response to that was “if I am just letting you take care of me and you are merely my sugar daddy, what does that say about you?”  But oddly this wasn’t the thing I found unsettling.  It was the fact that he got out of bed with me to call Helen.  I strangely forgot about him directing me to simply “smile”.  My focus was now on his lack of detachment to the ex. 

When boarding the plane to leave the Dominican Republic Sonia asked, “How was your weekend?”  Derek responded with “You know what the one thing that I don’t like about the Dominican is?”  “What’s that?” Sonia replied.  “There are a lot of black people.”  I am certain Sonia is under a strict confidentiality agreement, but how in God’s name could she keep this under wraps?   How could I?  We all kind of chimed in with a nervous laugh.  I wondered if that was really how he felt or was he just trying to retell some boring board member’s version of funny to us.  Of course Steve laughed but Jemma was almost convulsing.  She thinks everything Derek says is the gospel and I suddenly started to feel pity for her.  Is it that she just didn’t know better?

Amen for earphones.  This is the time and place that these inventions are crucial.  Before we even began to taxi onto the runway, I was listening to music.  It didn’t matter if it was The Judd’s or The Black Crowes.  Anything to drowned out Jemma.  After a passionless weekend on all levels, I was just thankful to hear different anthems being sung.  It was only a matter of time before Derek motioned for me to remove the earphones and join the conversation.  When I pressed pause on the tunes all I could think of was “Cheese!” 

I attempted to be merely an observer in this meeting of the minds.  I had determined in the past 4 days that there is no point in debating with these people.  So I tried to practice reverence.  The conversation was a debate about whether Derek’s new hired butler should go through a back round check before cohabitating with Derek’s kids.  Yes, you read it here.  A butler, and I am not talking about Mr. Belvedere.  Derek had come to a realization that he was in need of a butler.  To, well you know, manage things.  So here I was at nearly 40,000 feet above anything solid listening to a debate of the’ should I’ or “shouldn’t I’s” of moving a strange older man into the house without any history on him.

All I said was “Derek, your children are the only thing of yours that is priceless.  All it takes is 1 wrong move and your child’s life could be changed forever.”  I never suggested that he not hire anyone, and this wasn’t an attack on older men.  It was just a suggestion that he do his due diligence with this, as well.  Maybe I have seen too many Oprah’s.

You would think that I personally attacked Jemma for clubbing baby seals.  She retaliated by saying “Oriana, you and Derek have only been dating for 6 weeks or so.  Are you that attached to his kids to even have an opinion in this matter?”  “I mean, have you ever even met them?”  I was speechless.  It doesn’t happen often but I had nothing for her.  No reaction, no response.  Maybe Jemma should spend less time watching Jerry Springer and more time on youth violence prevention. 

In the awkward silence after her “statement”, Steve’s embarrassment was evident.  And so was Derek’s.  And as much as everyone thought that I was the one to be rescued, I was filled with an overwhelming need to protect Derek.  I was going to rescue him and show he and the world that money was only money.  Nothing more.  It can buy you admiration but it cannot buy you love...

*Oriana

The Ex Files

 Initially things seemed pretty promising with Derek.  He was smart, witty, uncharacteristically sarcastic and seemed all around human.  Derek made me laugh and he made me think.  After seeing so much so soon in life, that was refreshing.  I was beginning to look forward to hearing his voice when he called and found myself thinking more and more about him.

I knew going into this meet the friend scenario that Derek had previously been married.  Married for about 12 years, actually.  And divorce isn’t such a bad thing if you are actually divorced.  Things are situational and nobody really knows what goes on between 2 people.  I was trying to be very open minded because Derek had mentioned on more than one occasion that he and Helen remained very good friends.  I was impressed and thought that his continued devotion to Helen was respectable.  Strange, but again, nobody really knows.

My first impression of their relationship was one that seems like your typical story.  Got married young, had children, fell out of love.  They sounded like they really gave it a valiant effort but it was just time to close that chapter.  When telling me about his courtship he often edited the “oh by the way, I had a long standing two year affair with her best friend” portion of the conversation.  I sort of felt this strange allegiance to Helen just with the whole women stand together thing.  I was certain that there was an enormous part of the story I hadn’t gotten.  Just like mother has said before “what good is your cake if you can’t eat it too?”

I like cake.  In fact, I love cake.  But not enough to have Derek’s beloved Mrs. Cohen spoon-feed it to me.  I knew if I sat quietly enough the intentions of Helen and her friendship offering to me would reveal themselves on there own.  Little did I know that it would happen so soon? 

Derek and Helen share two children.  Of the two, there was the older quiet and sophisticated ballerina who traveled with a local dance company nation wide and there’s the other one.  Derek’s heir.  He was the younger child who was ALL boy, no boundaries, and overcompensating parents.  Because his oldest was outstanding in everything she did, Derek doted and seemed to obviously favor the more “challenging” child. 

I thought for the sake of the family that it was pretty amazing that Derek and Helen, BFF’s, were able to co parent in a divorced circumstance.  It wasn’t until his daughter’s ballet exhibition in Colorado that I was seriously beginning to question what divorced actually meant. 

When Derek came home from the weekend he was so excited to tell me how it was.  I think he was probably equally curious to hear my reaction, as I was certainly curious to hear the details.  It was tough for me to swallow, and initially I thought it was an insecurity issue on my part, but Derek insists on flying his daughter’s ballet troupe including Helen and her friends to all of her dance exhibits, often leaving no room for me on the plane.  Had Helen not divorced well enough that she couldn’t afford first class tickets on her own? 

He was telling me about the weekend and he breezed over the part where they had an adjoining hotel suite.  Halt.  Rewind.  Adjoining hotel suite?  He said, “you know so the kids feel more comfortable and get the sense that we are still a family unit”.  Excuse me, I thought?  What part of broken home didn’t Derek understand?  Or what part of divorce did I not get? 

I asked Derek if this was always the situation during ballet exhibits out of town.  He simply responded “yes”.  It was so matter of fact and I got a clear sense that it was not negotiable.  Again, I decided to try and keep an open mind about this whole ex’s spouses are best friends new age divorce thing.  So I chose the motto of Israel.  I mean, they are this teensy little nation amidst constant chaos and seem to be surviving.  So, I decided to sit quietly and wait.  Like Israel, I would only strike once struck upon.

*Oriana

I Have Finally Found My Voice...

As cathartic as writing these real life events down, it is nice to finally have a voice.  I have been silent for far too long and as we know there are two sides of every story.  Many friends have witnessed my struggle to find myself again, and many of my friends chose the more opportunist material side.  All in all, this has been the most difficult year and a half of my life and I am finally ready to tell my side.  I lost myself for a long time and have finally found the woman I love again.  I owe my family everything, because the moments I didn't want to breath, they breathed for me.  It is often said that in times of tragedy you learn who your real friends are.  I gave up everything, including myself for a man I loved and it still wasn't good enough.  When I left, I left with nothing except knowing what I was worth.  So starting from scratch with life, I chose to not be a victim.  Sometimes the sweetest revenge is success and happiness.  And I am forever grateful for the lessons I learned along this journey.  I no longer am holding my breath.  I choose to exhale.
*Oriana

Mother Always Said...

First I should disclaim while writing this in my journal I called myself Veruka.  I still couldn't believe that this was my truth and as long as it was happening to "Veruka" then it wasn't happening to me.  You shall see why in the future blogs...

THE SECOND DATE                                                                                     

When transitioning from the world of the voyeur to the exhibitionist, it is a choice.  It is deliberate and accepting objectification is crucial.  This covers all aspects of your life.  It is coming to the realization that although you may have a level of depth to your soul, your voice is now on mute.  There are simply two choices.  To live in color or to live in black and white.  I tap danced on grey for quite some time until I got it.  When I chose to surrender is when I chose to truly live.

There is a common misconception with modeling.  The sensationalism that we were born as glamazons, we always have a date, and virtually everything we say has no merit.  True that most of us are not formally educated.  But the majority of us have been walking runways in some of the world’s most coveted museums.  Mona Lisa?  Manolo Blahniks?  Yes, these worlds do collide.  Show season should be a season amongst itself.  It is the time of year that commingling the worlds of the financial giants and the open forum to debate this year’s perfect bone structure meet.  I guess at the end of the day, no matter the tax bracket you live in, everyone just wants something beautiful.

When you hear the stories of the overnight rise of a supermodel that was discovered in an airport it has usually been edited.  It is not that easy.  Is anything?  When traveling and working as a model it is a constant conditioning of poise and etiquette.  It is a constant debate over what is acceptable.  Grooming happens naturally as you are thrust in to different cultures.  Living as a commodity becomes priceless. 

The phone rang and I checked the caller ID and it read Cohen Financial Group.  It was Derek.  I know it is so cliché but didn’t we just meet for drinks the night before?  Wasn’t there some 3-day rule for calling?  I wasn’t sure what to expect when I answered because I must admit that it was the strangest first date I have ever been on.  I am putting my foot down, the question and answer portion of this is over.

“Hello?”

“Oriana, good afternoon, it’s Derek Cohen.” (As if I have been out with so many other Derek’s in the last week)

“Hi Derek, how are you?”

He said, “Well thank you.  It was so nice to meet you last night.  Would you be available for dinner sometime next week?”

Hmmmm, I thought. I was curious if he did have some hidden spunk that I didn’t see the day before.  And it wasn’t exactly the worst date I have been on.  I rather enjoyed myself actually.  So “yes” I responded. 

“Great.  How’s Wednesday?” Derek asks.

“Lovely.  Contrary to popular belief I am a meat and potatoes girl and yes, I actually eat”.

“Looking forward to finding the perfect brontosaurus burger for you.”

There it is again.  The dry wit.  Was Derek trying to flirt with me?

I immediately called Laney.  Sometimes I wonder how I trekked around the world solo for most of my life but now could not commit to anything without over analyzing it with Laney.   She always had the ability to keep me soft. 

“Laney, he called.” I said.

“Who called?  Does HE have a name?” she responded.

“Derek.  Derek Cohen called.  He wants to have dinner on Wednesday.”

Laney immediately responded, “Where?  Let me guess, he’s taking you to Europe from dinner?”

I laughed but did pause to think about it.  That would be amazing wouldn’t it?  Actually, not really.  It sounds better than what the jet lag would feel like.  And mother always said, “Travel with a clean face.  Make up and recycled air is a recipe for rough skin and big bags under your eyes.  And bags are bags, nobody cares if they are Gucci.”

“Laney, I love that you are the eternal optimist but I think he was thinking more on the steakhouse scale.  You know, something local, something boutique, something Chicago.”

“O” she said, “When are you going to just let go and go with the flow?  This could be your Romeo.”

“Yes, he very well could be.  But remember…  Ebbing is what makes things flow.”  I retorted.  I don’t know what keeps me so disconnected and unable to believe in that fairytale.  I wondered if it was because my youth was so short lived?  Trust was a big thing for me.  I had grown up in an environment where my roommates were my competition.  We laughed together, we struggled together, we truly loved each other but we still slept with one eye open amongst eachother.  It was like being raised as veal and constantly questioning who is off to the slaughterhouse next?

“And besides, “ I said, “mother always taught me that there is no such thing as free lunch.”

“Blah, blah blah… So more importantly, what shoes are you going to wear?”  That’s the thing about Laney.  She can always add some levity to situations.

All things in life have a trade.  Some trade stock tips, some trade power, some trade beauty secrets.  It’s all relative.  And more often than not, some people trade their souls.

 

When Derek was climbing up his corporate ladder he was sure to cross every “T” and dot every “I”.  He did everything to cement his financial security. He developed teams to analyze other teams to make certain that his future was fool proof.  His every move was calculated and with every zero that was added to his worth doors were flying open.  Helen, his wife of 12 years, was suddenly not good enough.  Sure she was a good mother.  And of course she was there before the riches came.  But was she beautiful?  They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And I say “ is their eyesight 20/20?” 

Helen had always struggled with her weight.  Although she said she would love to lose about 30 lbs. she honestly needed to drop about 60.  She was insecure about how she looked and she thought MAC make up was the answer.  Although blending her eye shadow was a constant miss, Helen had a very individual look in her eyes.  It was sharp.  It was lonely and there was a sense of fear.  And honestly, I wondered how bad it could have been for her?  It wasn’t until Derek and I began spending more time together that the truth started to unravel. 

Looking back at the beginning of “us” is kind of like looking at a Renoir painting.  There are classic moments with traditional elements but you cannot decide if you love it or hate it.  It’s back to black and white versus color. 

*Oriana

While Rummaging Through My Past, I Stumbled Across My Future

My first blind date six years ago...

It was Friday afternoon and after much debate with myself on the “should I or shouldn’t I?” I started to get ready for the big blind date. My best friend Laney was over and she was really enjoying my vulnerability. The truth is that this is something that Laney would do. I had always prided myself on never being set up. I had always hung on to the hope of running into my prince charming at a Starbuck’s or something more pedestrian. A set up? A blind date? Had my ability to attract the demure ended? Had I lost my own zsa zsa zhou?


Laney tried to reassure me that my outfit was appropriate for a late afternoon cocktail at a 5 star hotel lounge. She could barely keep a straight face because I had always said, “I would never do this.” My phone rang and it was my doorman. He was calling to let me know that there was someone waiting for me in the lobby. “Veruka, there is a gentleman in the lobby for you.” “Is he cute?” I asked. Silence. I said “thanks for the encouragement, I will be right down.”


I stubbed out my cigarette as if it was the tobacco’s fault that I was in this mess. I said to Laney “well?” She smirked and said, “You look like the first lady.” “Oh fuck it” I said, “let me get this over with and then remind me afterward that ‘Crazy’ doesn’t live here anymore.” Laney promised as she escorted me to the elevator like I was her own baby she was letting leave the nest. The elevator opened and I stepped in. She said, “Call me” and then the doors closed. As the floors got lower it was the moment of truth. I had always been the girl who would try anything once and this was truly a new beginning. The elevator doors slid open and there he was. He held out his hand and said, “I am Derek Cohen, it’s nice to finally meet you.”


It was a strange introduction. It felt like we had met before in a moment neither of us knew about. It was comfortable and the banter was almost immediate. I couldn’t decide if he was too corporate but I was relieved to know that I would probably survive this blind date. Derek walked me to his car and as a perfect gentleman he opened the door for me. It wasn’t until I was seated inside that I realized that it was a Bentley. I should’ve known to just get out and run. But trying to be the optimist that Laney had been prepping I tried to keep an open mind.


Derek said, “How does the Ritz sound?” I responded, “I didn’t realize that the Ritz had hourly rooms.” He said “Oh no, this could take all afternoon…” I was shocked. He got it. He was a smart ass. He wasn’t nearly as dull as I was expecting. “The Ritz sounds lovely.” And so it began… the story of us.


I ordered a coca cola and for him a “D.C.”. Trying to not be shallow I overlooked the acronym for diet coke. Was this suburban humor? Then the questioning. I cannot really describe it. It was a barrage of questions. A kind of personal interrogation that I wasn’t sure if it was too invasive or if this is how they do things in the professional world. Is this what structure meant? The mystery and excitement was thrown out. It was a cutthroat interview process. I just had one small question… What position was I applying for?


Clearly I had not gotten the memo. Maybe, I thought, “this is what high school was like…” The hard press had begun. In Derek’s own words he was “looking for his soul mate that could partner him in travel and enjoy life with.” He wanted to get married again and was not opposed to having another litter of children. He was not looking for someone to be a housewife. Cooking and cleaning was not a requirement because he informed me that he had a personal chef and 2 maids. He was hoping to retire soon from his financial Mecca he had built and spend more time on giving back. He used words like “fiscally responsible” and “fiduciary duty.”


“Mountains or beaches?” “City or country?”” rain or shine?” It was constant. The line of questioning made me wonder if this is what a genius IQ’s version of pillow talk was. This was very telling… “Disney or Shakespeare?’ That made me think. I hesitated for a moment and I think he wondered if he was talking a bit over my head. I said, “As much as I love them both, I am not sure if I can decide between the two. They both have elements of tragedy, for god’s sake Bambi’s mother got shot! Snow white was poisoned and Cinderella was an orphan.” Derek raised his eyebrows. He was intrigued. I know he was used to being the person who thought outside the box but now I have made him think. Who knew? As much as he was expecting this mannequin type woman to be the needed accessory to his already storybook life, I had depth.


Derek confessed that Finding Nemo was one of his favorites. Yes, it was cute but I think Freud would have a lot to say about this. Isn’t this a fictional world where an anonymous purchaser traps an innocently adorable little fish in an aquarium? Nemo spends so much of his life circling a glass cage while being adored for his beauty from the onlookers. When tired of people peering at him he decides to escape and find his way home. Wow. I think it would be much more realistic if the shark just ate Nemo. Maybe anti climatic but at least there would be an element of truth.


As I sat sipping my third coca cola I had to wonder… Was it possible that Nemo and I were living in a parallel universe? Was I watching a preview of what my future would hold? And if so, would I have changed the ending?

Sometimes when looking into a reflecting pool, you aren't always pleased at what you see...

This blog is going to be more like a montage in words of my life up to present.  I will speak often of what my "today's" hold based as well on my past experiences.  Some will make you laugh, others may shock you but know this is the truth.  All names have been changed to protect the innocent, however the guilty know who they are...  I am a 33 year old woman, looking for love.  I have kissed a lot of frogs.  The scariest, bravest moment of my life was calling off my wedding 10 days prior.  That was a year ago.  The stories you will read in the events leading up to that decision, and the resilience I had to conjure up to survive that decision was absolutely life altering.  And I thank God everyday for that divine intervention and courage it took.  You never know how much you really mean to someone until you see it written on paper.  Money is only currency, and thank God I knew in my heart that I was priceless.  To be continued...
Oriana*