Tuesday, June 30, 2009

my favorite commercial on the telly

wait for the Yorkshire horses.



the british version of woodsy the owl -- give a hoot, people.

poor weston

where did they come up with some of these village names? this could get awkward for people named lizard.

Friday, June 26, 2009

striking a chord

when i was 17 jessie played me a CD that her brother sent from college. we put it on the stereo, turned it all the way up, and listened to it all night long. i know that i'm just one of a zillion Dave Matthews Band fans, and i'm not even a warehouse-card-carrying, t-shirt-wearing, live-recording-collecting, DMB True Believer. i just love the music.

DMB is one of those bands whose music can get inside my bones. the opening notes of satellite (for some reason) can make me emotional, and it's not even a sad song. ants marching makes me want to dance. the entire crash CD makes me crave sunshine. his lyrics can be so witty, funny, sad. and this new release -- i love it. classic Dave.

harley and i went to see them perform last night in London and i am, even after 11 years of fandom and four previous concerts, still absolutely in love with these overwhelmingly talented musicians. they are, truly, overwhelming. if you play an instrument, you know what i'm talking about. you don't see many dave cover bands out there. it's not just dave, either. it's carter beauford on drums, boyd tinsely on violin, tim reynolds (yes, he was there) on guitar, stefan lessard on bass, jeff coffin (in LeRoi Moore's spot) on sax, and the trumpet player (hm. i don't know his name)...i think it's just too much.

and its not just the music, its the meaning. the associations. college dorm rooms. trips to OSU for some party or another. getting ready to go out. the Gorge at George in August. Tecate man! late nights alone and feeling lonely. sunny summers. road trips. a train to london and a bottle of wine.

as we walked out of the concert, the iPhones were lighting up all around us as news of Michael Jackson's death hit the london airwaves. it was like a crazy ripple effect. our ears were still ringing from dave when we heard about michael. although i wasn't ever a michael jackson fan, and i think the media reaction is a little bit much at this point, i can see how so many people are really mourning their pop icon. it isn't just michael jackson that has died. it is the person that wrote songs tied to their own memories -- childhood, growing up, MTV, first love, heartbreak, really bad yearbook pictures -- who is gone. both a reminder of how fast life is passing and another testament to the power of music.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

a page turner

what i did on my summer vacation: 3,056 pages of fiction.

and not good, pulitzer prize-winning fiction. no book awards. no bettering myself. just escapeism. beach reads. chick-lit. like reading the entire TV series of Grey's Anatomy in one week. after two years of psychology, intercultural studies, and management strategies, it felt nice to relax my brain a bit.

oh, and a bottle of malibu rum helped.

Monday, June 22, 2009

when life gives you a lemon tree...

i have just experienced one of those vacations that i am actually jealous of myself for having gone on. after spending the last two years learnin' my way across europe, i didn't realize how nice it would be to go "classic holiday" and just relax. screw the toppled marbled columns and Lycian tombs. we just wanted a cold beer and the hot sun.

there was a lot of debate between Dan and i about where we should go -- we haven't seen Barcelona or Budapest, Dubrovnik or Faro; we might never get a chance to float the fjords or hike the alps. but do we really need to? we have seen so much more than we'd ever dreamed we would, so why don't we take a vacation from vacation and spend some quality time with a good book and a gallon of SPF 50?

it was by pure Google that we came upon Kas, Turkey. i had only two requirements: average 85 degrees in June, have private pool. after some creative searching, i hit the vacation jackpot. we found our house, overlooking the Med, only 2 hours from the airport, and the owner was willing to knock 200 Pounds off the price because there were only two of us staying at three-bed Villa Jasmine.

now is where you should cover your eyes if you don't want to know how freakin' perfect this place was...we were just a short walk from a swimming platform and beach cafe, but we only went once because the view from our infinity pool was just as great and the beer in our fridge was just that much colder. we had our own lemon tree, from which we made fresh squeezed lemonade to serve with the aubergine, basil, and tomato pasta we cooked in our kitchen (the herbs having been given to us by an old man downtown who grows them in front of his tailor shop). the pool man and gardener, Mamhet, brought fresh bread every morning for our breakfast. the ocean was warm and clear enough that you could see 30 feet in any direction, at least that was my guess from when i did my first ever scuba dive. should i go on?

we had our own car, so we could run to town and get kebaps, beers, fresh fruit, and any sort of dish made of lamb that our hearts desired. the market on friday was full of spices and knock-off Lacoste, perfect for tourists, of which there were very, very few. the daytime high never dropped below 86, but the sea breeze would cool you off if you got too warm.
after spending months or weeks apart from Dan, or months and weeks living together but both going a thousand miles an hour in different direction, it would come to a point where our relationship seemed a lot like two roommates rather than a husband-wife. with our precious 15 minutes together we had time to discuss the bills or the ever-testy Mini, the next six weeks schedule, appointments, trips, chores.

this type of vacation with seven long days of nothing in front of us -- no navigating to a hotel or seeking out a bus schedule. no deciding where to eat or what to see, nothing but time to chat, swim, read, eat, cook, and just spend our obligation-free time -- was just what we needed.