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Hau'oli Makahiki Hou, or HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I was so excited to take a New Year's spin class, but my stupid luggage was lost and I was stuck at home waiting for it. BUT, I did sneak away for a glamorous power lunch at Del Frisco's. It was so Mad Men.

Naughty FLOG: Cheesecake, Bacon wrapped dates, chocolate chip cookies, a dirty martini & loads of champagne.

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Father-daughter bonding day! My dear papa took me on a hike way up into the rainforest to the water head, the source of all our irrigation. First we travelled on our mule, Rosie (the ATV kind, not the donkey kind). There were many electric fence gates to open, which I told my dad are just like the oblique cable exercises I do with Buffin, so during the whole hike my dad kept calling out, "Use your obliques!" I think he thinks it's funny that I know what obliques are.

My dad can hike through the rainforest kind of like a wild pig - he marches along at a high velocity while everyone else is usually left sinking into the bog. It's quite a challenge keeping up with him, especially as he's blazing through an overgrown trail, gleefully swinging his machete. When I was younger, and less fit and beautiful, I would often become very frustrated at the pace, the difficulty, and the many branches thwacking me in the face. This time, I approached it like yoga: how you respond to the difficulty of the challenge is what matters most. So when I stumbled on the terrain, I said, "Whee!" When I slipped in the mud, I giggled. When I sunk in a bog, I pretended I was doing one-legged squats on a bosu ball so I could pull my leg out without sinking further. It helped that our old dog preferred my pace to my dad's, and she and I helped each other over big tree stumps. We paused often so my dad could point out the water ditch, and what was built in the '30's to irrigate the plantations, and what was built by the state in the '70's, and what pipes lead to where, and how the water all connects on the back side of the mountains that you can't see unless you are intrepid hikers, such as we were that day. We made it to the top, and Dad cleaned out the debris from the valve and pipes, while I looked for native snails. We hiked back in silence, following the path we'd trampled on the way up, clearing more brush, listening to birds and one wild boar. We ate peanut butter sandwiches on the porch of an old cabin where the men who'd first maintained the water ditch used to camp. The fog had settled in by the time we drove Rosie back home, and I felt very grateful that I have a sweet dad who is so spry, so knowledgeable, and who sets a good pace so I can see what is possible in this life.

Naughty FLOG; 1 Bloody Mary, relished from my seat in first class. Thanks to my Uncle Tim, and to the universe for re-paying my Sarah Robles first class karma in kind.

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Beach day with my baby sister. We walked in the water to work our legs, and then I treated her to a healthy lunch. Well, it was healthy except for the mango margaritas. Then we had a healthy dinner with the family. Well, it was healthy except for some more margaritas.

Naughty FLOG: 2 mango margaritas at lunch; french fries stolen from my brother-in-law's plate at dinner, just to keep him in his place; 2 li hing mui margaritas at dinner; bites of coffee ice cream. I regret nothing.

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My sister made coffee at her house, but it was a mile away. Being without a vehicle, I decided to jog there. It sounded like a great idea, until I realized that although the road looks flat while in a car, it is actually uphill. My step-mom & I now own matching faux-fur vests, so we had a Real Housewives-inspired photo shoot in the garden. It was epic, as was our enormous Christmas Eve dinner.

Naughty FLOG; I mean. Um. Well. A lot of stuff happened, in the form of pie, mashed potatoes and buckets of wine. I regret nothing. I especially don't regret the part where I forced everyone to watch "Love Actually."

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All of my sisters are married/engaged/dating very nice men, which makes it super fun when we all go out for coffee in the mornings. So many nice men who fetch chairs and let me have the front seat in my uncle's car. In the afternoon, we ditched the men so we could take a hike through the pasture and let the dogs swim in the reservoir. At dinner, I made my dad weep with laughter when I told the story of how one Christmas, I got a new Skipper and new Ken doll, and my brother got a pocket knife. By the end of that afternoon, Skipper had no hair, Ken had no toes, and they were NEVER THE SAME!

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Ice skating at Citi Pond in Bryant Park with Maureen D. and other friends. I'm counting it as a workout because I am awful at ice skating, and it made my legs hurt. It was one of those New York nights that makes you feel like you are living in a movie, just tra-la-la-ing through life to vintage Christmas carols against dramatic backdrops. Maureen & I got our extra steps in by walking in the rain to Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas tree. Maureen is a good friend - she walked in the rain just so I could wave at shiny things.