Especially before returning to france to ride my bike by rivers and eat like, au gratin potatoes and other regional specialties.
But as for Granada .... It´s so hot here! It feels super super nice, the real heat.
Its pretty dry, its sortof crazy. There are at least 4 hammocks in my hostel´s garden courtyard. Legit.
This one gypsy -- after he tole me I was ¨juapa¨--- and invited me to dance or something, saying:
¨there´s flamenco in the mountains--- in caves¨
It was pretty much the most creepy/awesome thing ever said to me, and I was in a good mood bc his friend was a good flamenco singer dude, and I was getting some sun (If i haven´t told you before, I think I´m photosynthetic a little). Still, I was like, yeah, no thanks.... as much as I love flamenco, I´m going to wait until I know spanish, and kung fu, to come to dance flamenco in the mountains.
Actually, I should probably also learn flamenco. Spain´s existance will be a nice inspiration for me to pursue hobbies I had already intended to pick up. I can pretty much fake all the aforementioned things, but that´s just not the same as acutally knowing how to do stuff.
When I was having dinner with the Calderos, who are awesome (and who my friend Julia .. who I´ve known since I was 0-- is going to meet) I mentioned that sure, I´d figured out what I wanted to do, career-wise, but I thought I´d like to learn computer programming or something, too.... and Phillipe, Mr. Caldero to...well to pretty much no one (maybe his math students) said, ¨Lori, you must decide!¨
But I know he was kidding, since he´s a mathematician that likes to play David Bowie on his piano, and was in a one hit wonder band in Martinique in the 80s.
PS Becca helped me to figure out that I probably have some Black Irish ancestors (I´m thinking paternal grandmother) ... which would really really explain why most europeans I meet - when I ask them ¨what¨I look like, since I don´t really know - say....hmmm, you have a very latin face. Its the black irish! Spanish invaders in Ireland! This is why someone at the Methodist Church in kirkwood asked me if I was from South America! It would alsol explain why my dad looks sortof Spanish, especially in my family pictures from when we are young and bouncy blonde german lookin´kids! It really has unfurrowed my brow a great deal, this insight.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Argentina - best restaurant owner Vernazza!!
Blythe and I, being naturals at the whole "lets take 7 hours to eat dinner" thing that Italy seemed to have going for it, of course were the last ones to leave Volterra's best restaruant, whose name I have forgotten.
However, if you go there, just ask whoever you're staying with where to find Arge's (short for Argentina) place, and they'll probably know exactly where to find her, and heck, they will probably be related to her, b/c the town is rather tiny.
Arge, generous broken italian interpreter exemplaire, spoke to us about her name, her game and her love of restaruant owning. She is all about just chatting away for no good reason other than the best reason - just because. We spoke to her in english/italian, but by this time of the trip/night/wine bottle I was pretty confident in my italian speaking, and probably even ventured outside of the present tense a few times, hey-o.
The Precioius Georgian Couple were seated in the corner, and slightly impressed with our speaking italian, but my favorite Precious Georgian Couple moment was yet to come. Of course, the Precious Georgian Lady, PGL, had already asked us if we had boyfriends, so she knew we were single ladies (shock!) travelling. Being a true PGL, she was on the lookout for us at dinner, and made sure we knew that the Germans dressed as Fiddler on the Roof Chorus members (who were travelling around the Continent fixing people's roofs, as per some tradition -- they also had a cool walking stick) were "lookeein at y'all!" And then she did a little flapper-esque dance to show that we were single, they were single, hey! It was pretty hilarious.
Anyway, Arge ruled, and my anchovy pie ruled (it was quite inTENSE, but I tried to eat it) And my coffee had foam that looked like italy. It was another night of just chillin' with random people.
However, if you go there, just ask whoever you're staying with where to find Arge's (short for Argentina) place, and they'll probably know exactly where to find her, and heck, they will probably be related to her, b/c the town is rather tiny.
Arge, generous broken italian interpreter exemplaire, spoke to us about her name, her game and her love of restaruant owning. She is all about just chatting away for no good reason other than the best reason - just because. We spoke to her in english/italian, but by this time of the trip/night/wine bottle I was pretty confident in my italian speaking, and probably even ventured outside of the present tense a few times, hey-o.
The Precioius Georgian Couple were seated in the corner, and slightly impressed with our speaking italian, but my favorite Precious Georgian Couple moment was yet to come. Of course, the Precious Georgian Lady, PGL, had already asked us if we had boyfriends, so she knew we were single ladies (shock!) travelling. Being a true PGL, she was on the lookout for us at dinner, and made sure we knew that the Germans dressed as Fiddler on the Roof Chorus members (who were travelling around the Continent fixing people's roofs, as per some tradition -- they also had a cool walking stick) were "lookeein at y'all!" And then she did a little flapper-esque dance to show that we were single, they were single, hey! It was pretty hilarious.
Anyway, Arge ruled, and my anchovy pie ruled (it was quite inTENSE, but I tried to eat it) And my coffee had foam that looked like italy. It was another night of just chillin' with random people.
Blythe goes medieval
Earlier that day, Blythe and I decided to go on a crazy hike, b/c that's what you do in Cinqueterre. Blythe had heard that the paths were dangerous, so I was anxious to find out if they were "don't go there when you're drunk b/c you'll fall into the sea" or "roving bandits" type of dangerous.
I think it was the former, b/c I only saw not-quite-open, but awesome-looking cliffside restaurants, and a lot of fun trees to climb (not to mention crazy hiking germans with walking sticks).
Anyway, it was a killer hike - I was really feelin' the nature and it was also somewhat strenuous and painful, but in a good way. The views were crazy, and I only almost fell down once. It was a little misty/hazy for our hike, but that didn't realy affect much - if anything it kept it nice and cool&breezy. We hiked to Corniglia, and I wanted to go further, but part of the trail further had fallen into the ocean, and well, we were hangry and tired so the train we took back to Volterra to have dinner.
Dinner was quite an affair, what with Argentina, the best restauranteuse ever, The Precious Georgian Couple, and some Germans dressed up like chorus members of Fiddler on the Roof -- and some crazy Volterrian specialty that was like an anchovy pizza thing.
I think it was the former, b/c I only saw not-quite-open, but awesome-looking cliffside restaurants, and a lot of fun trees to climb (not to mention crazy hiking germans with walking sticks).
Anyway, it was a killer hike - I was really feelin' the nature and it was also somewhat strenuous and painful, but in a good way. The views were crazy, and I only almost fell down once. It was a little misty/hazy for our hike, but that didn't realy affect much - if anything it kept it nice and cool&breezy. We hiked to Corniglia, and I wanted to go further, but part of the trail further had fallen into the ocean, and well, we were hangry and tired so the train we took back to Volterra to have dinner.
Dinner was quite an affair, what with Argentina, the best restauranteuse ever, The Precious Georgian Couple, and some Germans dressed up like chorus members of Fiddler on the Roof -- and some crazy Volterrian specialty that was like an anchovy pizza thing.
Cinque Terre - 5 lands of fun
After a train ride from Pisa (where we took pictures of everyone pretending to be holding it up, and where we were, like many people, unimpressed with Pisa Proper), we were not sure if we were headed to La Spezia, last stop before going to cinque terre.
So we stayed in a nice hotel rom in La Spezia, watched music videos and generally fell asleep, as we were more tired than either or us wanted to admit.
We wake up, and after the supremely unhelpful train attendants helped us not at all, we had a sandwich and went to one of the 5 cities. We sat around, watch the children play, and decided to go to Volterra (I think) to find a room.
We waded through the cats (so many cats in a fishing village) to find a "camera" and I rang a bell. Suddenly all the windows nearby open and these kind, dried-apple old ladies start waving in every which direction. At last Martina, a younger local, shows us up to her rooms, which are lovely, and smell of saltwater and beachiness. Its great!
I don't remember if we ate in that night or what, but the night we we did go out, we wentdown to where the fishermen in safety orange were having a coffee (so much coffee to be had) and met a swell couple from Georgia, with whom we shared a few words and they helped us figure out where to eat later on that evening. They were awesomely Georgian, and in their southernly way told us about some american who was living with an italian who makes stone fortress/condos/hotel rooms up on the hill and how respected he is buy the community and how his american girlfriend has a baby that her parents havn't even seen. (Secret hidden implication -- they're NOT MARRIED!!! How does that even happen to people?)
Anyway, they were precious as precious can be, and a most excellent travelin' Southern couple.
So we stayed in a nice hotel rom in La Spezia, watched music videos and generally fell asleep, as we were more tired than either or us wanted to admit.
We wake up, and after the supremely unhelpful train attendants helped us not at all, we had a sandwich and went to one of the 5 cities. We sat around, watch the children play, and decided to go to Volterra (I think) to find a room.
We waded through the cats (so many cats in a fishing village) to find a "camera" and I rang a bell. Suddenly all the windows nearby open and these kind, dried-apple old ladies start waving in every which direction. At last Martina, a younger local, shows us up to her rooms, which are lovely, and smell of saltwater and beachiness. Its great!
I don't remember if we ate in that night or what, but the night we we did go out, we wentdown to where the fishermen in safety orange were having a coffee (so much coffee to be had) and met a swell couple from Georgia, with whom we shared a few words and they helped us figure out where to eat later on that evening. They were awesomely Georgian, and in their southernly way told us about some american who was living with an italian who makes stone fortress/condos/hotel rooms up on the hill and how respected he is buy the community and how his american girlfriend has a baby that her parents havn't even seen. (Secret hidden implication -- they're NOT MARRIED!!! How does that even happen to people?)
Anyway, they were precious as precious can be, and a most excellent travelin' Southern couple.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
San Gimangniano days, Siena nights
Ok, so we went to San Gimigniano (sic?).
It was the town in Tea with Mussolini where, if you will journey back with me a bit, Judy "the" Dench ties herself and her cute dog to a bomb that the Germans were going to set off on one of the towers b/c she can do that sort of thing b/c she is The Dench. (to me, at least)
So we went and I am a genius, so I accidentally got us INTO the city in Jimmy (who, you should know by now, is our car) and probably drove around on a sidewalk for a bit, doing an Austin Powers-esque U turn on that sidewalk, much to the bepuzzlement of a nice old lady and her daughter carrying some groceries. OOops!
We found parking, where you see miss blythe, stretching (due to our miles long quest to re-find Jimmy, we had to walk a lot, and needed a stretch --- you would, too), and we set off. We saw towers, and we saw olive trees, and I made blythe climb to the top of a lot of stairs a few times. I supposed Austin is not as hilly as Lyon, so I am more thrilled by the prospect of a good stair climb to chill in some monk garden on a hill than she. But we did it, and together.
We were going to hit up a winery just northeast, but decided that we'd rather go get ready for dinner and go to sienna to beging hte 6 hour process of eating.
We park Jimmy next to the Insane Asylum/hospital, since that's the easiest place to RE-find, and set off to wander around (it was walking hour) and to find a place for a prosecco and some munchies. We finally, in all our hangriness (hunger induced anger/moodiness = hanger) decided upon Miami Cafe, and despite its lame name, was cool and local and had some nice little square pizza things that were amazing.
Done with our aperitivo, the great trattoria search began. Why not try BEHIND the big old building in the middle of the palio, we think?
We think right.
The trattoria we go to has books and other totally random stuff lining the walls, and 4 big tables, where they'd sit one couple on one side, and another on another side.
I don't remember what we got - i do remember that the dessert was strangely lemon/lime/merengue/licorice/? tasting, but actually it was a nice finish to things. I was a little concerned that we had an american couple next to us from like, Ohio or something ("crap, we chose a touristy place, this couple does not look cool" = my inner monologue), but luckily they were not awesome like us and only stayed 2 hours (I think we stayed like 5, to be honest, i love eating in Italy) making room for the best table-sharers ever, Gaia and her Husband of German/Austrian Descent! (never caught his name).
Blythe and I were having, as one does, wine fueled and firey conversatoins about life and such, and since its italy, we could be pretty loud and no one would notice b/c italians talk CRAZY loud.
Our table-sharers were nice enough to inquire where we were from, and talk about this and that, and I played the "i speak incredibly broken, but believably earnest italian" and blythe played some other card I probably didn't see and next thing you know it, we are all best friends. !
Gaia had been coming to this place for ages - she said she took her first date here, and now she was taking her husband, so it was super cool for her. Her lovely husband was nice enough to indulge us in some of his (probably way more expensive than our) wine, and it was all lovely, and we all got to try it and then make faces of approval. Gaia was buddies with the owner/head waiter, so he came to sit with us and talk about life. Blythe and the husband and the owner talked about WWII's effect on Italy vs. Germany, and about how Israel isn't necessarily always the good guy just b/c their Israel...blythe got snaps for her international/"person with a brain who uses it" perspective, I'm sure.
Meanwhile, me and Gaia were talking about how you can't stress yourself out too young, and one must travel and learn languages so that you can really live when you are the righ tage to really live. Something like that. it sounded really Profound and True in italian. I really liked speaking italian with Gaia, she was wonderful about correcting me in a very helpful way, and she is now my inspiration to learn Spanish and German. Ha, that reminds me, she was like, Oh, the german people, you must study! So fascinating a people, blah blah. I loved Gaia and her husband.
Mr. Gaia didn't like the strange yellow wine the owner brought out, and when he was away, Mr. Gaia would scoff silently to the girls, saying, "it tastes like Llamma (or some such ridiculous animal) piss." To that Gaia would scoff back at her awesomely drunk husband, and it was just sortof great. Oh man, it was a planetary allignment indeed. All from just STAYING where we were, ready to welcome whatever would be happening. I mean the food itself was worth the rest, but the people too? Wow.
We took a picture together (Gaia, Me and Blythe) at my urging, and being all wined up and whatnot, all the ladies were happy to oblige. Mr. Gaia was ready to give the stage to the ladies, so he's only narrowly in the shot. I was able to email Gaia (cool name, sidenote) the photo, and she emailed us photos of her kids at halloween (they were all dressed up as a famly of pirates!) and her and Mr. Gaia on vacation.
Real friends! I love it! Just thinking about it makes my heart want to tap dance.
Anyway, after reluctantly saying goodbye - closing town the trattoria about 2 hours after everyone else was gone.
It turns out Gaia's father, still a college professor and a writer at like, 90, invented the xray or brought it to Italy, or something totally ridiculous like that. Blythe did a good job of having a real or affected clue about that. I did a good job of being wowed, and talking about how I can't wait to be old and sprightly and wise and have birthday cakes with lots of candles.
After Gaia and her man walked off into the siena streets, blythe and I decided to roll around on the Campo in glee, b/c really there is no other way to express glee, especially not that late at night.
On our way back we ran into some youths, one of whom tried to charm us by telling us his american girlfriend had just broken up with him, so like, he neede comfort, and he had roses for us (Mine's pressed in some book now)....the best part was that the girl of the group kept on telling them that they were full of crap and that their crap would not work on these smart lookin' girls. Well she was right, and it was fun to say goodbye to them, and as we walked away, the "charming" one was nice enough to sing me a little song across tha campo that went a little something like this, "Loooooooooorrriiiiiiiiii."
A good song, but an even better night.
!
It was the town in Tea with Mussolini where, if you will journey back with me a bit, Judy "the" Dench ties herself and her cute dog to a bomb that the Germans were going to set off on one of the towers b/c she can do that sort of thing b/c she is The Dench. (to me, at least)
So we went and I am a genius, so I accidentally got us INTO the city in Jimmy (who, you should know by now, is our car) and probably drove around on a sidewalk for a bit, doing an Austin Powers-esque U turn on that sidewalk, much to the bepuzzlement of a nice old lady and her daughter carrying some groceries. OOops!
We found parking, where you see miss blythe, stretching (due to our miles long quest to re-find Jimmy, we had to walk a lot, and needed a stretch --- you would, too), and we set off. We saw towers, and we saw olive trees, and I made blythe climb to the top of a lot of stairs a few times. I supposed Austin is not as hilly as Lyon, so I am more thrilled by the prospect of a good stair climb to chill in some monk garden on a hill than she. But we did it, and together.
We were going to hit up a winery just northeast, but decided that we'd rather go get ready for dinner and go to sienna to beging hte 6 hour process of eating.
We park Jimmy next to the Insane Asylum/hospital, since that's the easiest place to RE-find, and set off to wander around (it was walking hour) and to find a place for a prosecco and some munchies. We finally, in all our hangriness (hunger induced anger/moodiness = hanger) decided upon Miami Cafe, and despite its lame name, was cool and local and had some nice little square pizza things that were amazing.
Done with our aperitivo, the great trattoria search began. Why not try BEHIND the big old building in the middle of the palio, we think?
We think right.
The trattoria we go to has books and other totally random stuff lining the walls, and 4 big tables, where they'd sit one couple on one side, and another on another side.
I don't remember what we got - i do remember that the dessert was strangely lemon/lime/merengue/licorice/? tasting, but actually it was a nice finish to things. I was a little concerned that we had an american couple next to us from like, Ohio or something ("crap, we chose a touristy place, this couple does not look cool" = my inner monologue), but luckily they were not awesome like us and only stayed 2 hours (I think we stayed like 5, to be honest, i love eating in Italy) making room for the best table-sharers ever, Gaia and her Husband of German/Austrian Descent! (never caught his name).
Blythe and I were having, as one does, wine fueled and firey conversatoins about life and such, and since its italy, we could be pretty loud and no one would notice b/c italians talk CRAZY loud.
Our table-sharers were nice enough to inquire where we were from, and talk about this and that, and I played the "i speak incredibly broken, but believably earnest italian" and blythe played some other card I probably didn't see and next thing you know it, we are all best friends. !
Gaia had been coming to this place for ages - she said she took her first date here, and now she was taking her husband, so it was super cool for her. Her lovely husband was nice enough to indulge us in some of his (probably way more expensive than our) wine, and it was all lovely, and we all got to try it and then make faces of approval. Gaia was buddies with the owner/head waiter, so he came to sit with us and talk about life. Blythe and the husband and the owner talked about WWII's effect on Italy vs. Germany, and about how Israel isn't necessarily always the good guy just b/c their Israel...blythe got snaps for her international/"person with a brain who uses it" perspective, I'm sure.
Meanwhile, me and Gaia were talking about how you can't stress yourself out too young, and one must travel and learn languages so that you can really live when you are the righ tage to really live. Something like that. it sounded really Profound and True in italian. I really liked speaking italian with Gaia, she was wonderful about correcting me in a very helpful way, and she is now my inspiration to learn Spanish and German. Ha, that reminds me, she was like, Oh, the german people, you must study! So fascinating a people, blah blah. I loved Gaia and her husband.
Mr. Gaia didn't like the strange yellow wine the owner brought out, and when he was away, Mr. Gaia would scoff silently to the girls, saying, "it tastes like Llamma (or some such ridiculous animal) piss." To that Gaia would scoff back at her awesomely drunk husband, and it was just sortof great. Oh man, it was a planetary allignment indeed. All from just STAYING where we were, ready to welcome whatever would be happening. I mean the food itself was worth the rest, but the people too? Wow.
We took a picture together (Gaia, Me and Blythe) at my urging, and being all wined up and whatnot, all the ladies were happy to oblige. Mr. Gaia was ready to give the stage to the ladies, so he's only narrowly in the shot. I was able to email Gaia (cool name, sidenote) the photo, and she emailed us photos of her kids at halloween (they were all dressed up as a famly of pirates!) and her and Mr. Gaia on vacation.
Real friends! I love it! Just thinking about it makes my heart want to tap dance.
Anyway, after reluctantly saying goodbye - closing town the trattoria about 2 hours after everyone else was gone.
It turns out Gaia's father, still a college professor and a writer at like, 90, invented the xray or brought it to Italy, or something totally ridiculous like that. Blythe did a good job of having a real or affected clue about that. I did a good job of being wowed, and talking about how I can't wait to be old and sprightly and wise and have birthday cakes with lots of candles.
After Gaia and her man walked off into the siena streets, blythe and I decided to roll around on the Campo in glee, b/c really there is no other way to express glee, especially not that late at night.
On our way back we ran into some youths, one of whom tried to charm us by telling us his american girlfriend had just broken up with him, so like, he neede comfort, and he had roses for us (Mine's pressed in some book now)....the best part was that the girl of the group kept on telling them that they were full of crap and that their crap would not work on these smart lookin' girls. Well she was right, and it was fun to say goodbye to them, and as we walked away, the "charming" one was nice enough to sing me a little song across tha campo that went a little something like this, "Loooooooooorrriiiiiiiiii."
A good song, but an even better night.
!
DirtyCoast is cooler than StL-Style
I hate to say it, but DirtyCoast.com is way cooler than her sista up the riva, StL-Style.com.
I am really loving their Crawfish (known to Me as a crawDAD) ...crawSOMETHING shirt. Its cool, and I want to get it for my dad, so he can again be accidentally cool.
Why!? I hope they really use the "everyone loves a good tshirt" (hello Threadless) to the advantage of St. Louis at large, b/c i think they totally could. Why NOT?! New Orleans makes me jealous.
I love the revolving flash banner thing, (Look at the smorgasboarrd over there on the right) whose image changes faster than I change my mind about whether I like StL or NOLA more, and I love the "Be Hot, Be Local" tagline bigtime. I know of quite a few Stlsters who'd be pretty enthused to banner themselves up, not to mention to be hot and local.
Plus Mr. DirtyCoast gave me a nice list of NOLA blogs to read - that was rather kind of him.
StLStyle, you could be such a force for good, and you already are, a little.
Fry the big (craw)fish, already! I just don't think its possible to start up another tshirt company, create dissent, etc... in a town that needs all the unity it could get.
There are at least 20 local foods/traditions/whatever that, with a good design and a clever little somethin', would look nice on anyone's chest.
Sigh.
I am really loving their Crawfish (known to Me as a crawDAD) ...crawSOMETHING shirt. Its cool, and I want to get it for my dad, so he can again be accidentally cool.
Why!? I hope they really use the "everyone loves a good tshirt" (hello Threadless) to the advantage of St. Louis at large, b/c i think they totally could. Why NOT?! New Orleans makes me jealous.
I love the revolving flash banner thing, (Look at the smorgasboarrd over there on the right) whose image changes faster than I change my mind about whether I like StL or NOLA more, and I love the "Be Hot, Be Local" tagline bigtime. I know of quite a few Stlsters who'd be pretty enthused to banner themselves up, not to mention to be hot and local.
Plus Mr. DirtyCoast gave me a nice list of NOLA blogs to read - that was rather kind of him.
StLStyle, you could be such a force for good, and you already are, a little.
Fry the big (craw)fish, already! I just don't think its possible to start up another tshirt company, create dissent, etc... in a town that needs all the unity it could get.
There are at least 20 local foods/traditions/whatever that, with a good design and a clever little somethin', would look nice on anyone's chest.
Sigh.
Indiana Jones, and the Lost Blogpost of Glory
Ok, fine, I promised I'd write more about Italy, and I'm feeling sufficiently content to write it. Expect many sequels (maybe starring Sean Connery! hm, nah)
It's sunny here in Lyon, and I've already had one vacation after the Italy one, and am set to enjoy yet anouther sejour in May. More people should be burdened with such overabundance! As I pack my things to go home, I can't help but feel a little bit of guilt that I have nothing really to give back as gifts to all the people who'd like a little piece of Europe. I do have some rocks. From the Italian Riviera. But still, I'm supposin' that the only way I can give back is to write about all the lovely moments of my trip.
I'm also anticipating sitting at some table in the land of the free (home of the brave) and having to answer the question, "So Lori, how was your trip?"
So its a preparation for me, and a blog for you! Hurrah, it all evens out in the end.
I realize that I have not told you about Siena! Oh Siena, thank heaven for you - you were all you were supposed to be! It's so nice when your expectations are met and exceeded - it is so nice!
Blythe and I arrived at our lovely hostel Fattoria di Something Wonderful, and our lovely host Bernice praised Jimmy the Splint, our specTACular smartcar, and welcomed us into her totally amazing farmhouse. There were even garages for the tractors and whatnot, and the next day at breakfast blythe and I spotted what could only have been Bernice's dad trimming the bushes in their totally glorious garden.
The first night we went to Siena, and found probably the only restaurant open after wandering around in circles, getting kissed at by boys, and walking around at "Italian Walking Around Your City" hour, which is 6. Seriuosly, everyone goes on a walk at 6.
So we walked. I bought the green scarf you may or may not be seeing in all my pictures hence. We found the restaurant, and despite its seeming to have a "west Indies" theme, had some pretty awesome Pecorino cheese appetizer, with some sort of jelly made of heaven to go with it. I believe blythe got some sort of ravioli that blew her mind, and I got the traditional big cylinder spaghetti (the kind that looks like the noodles I made in my Play-Doh press back in the day, snaps to mom for buying me that, b/c i LOVED IT). It was delish, and the house wine was of course amazing as it probably came from the hill over there.
After a little wine and song (and searching for non-existant bars that are open late) we wandered into the suburbs for an hour, only to wander somewhere else, and eventually find Jimmy the Splint, our trusty smart car and drive home. The medieval street plan must have been devised to confuse invaders to death, as we were just that. Were it not for the loving arms of our Smartcar, Jimmy, we might've died of the stress of it all. Luckily Siena is powerfully serene and awesome, so actually we were fine, just tired and confused.
Next day, SanGimigniano!
It's sunny here in Lyon, and I've already had one vacation after the Italy one, and am set to enjoy yet anouther sejour in May. More people should be burdened with such overabundance! As I pack my things to go home, I can't help but feel a little bit of guilt that I have nothing really to give back as gifts to all the people who'd like a little piece of Europe. I do have some rocks. From the Italian Riviera. But still, I'm supposin' that the only way I can give back is to write about all the lovely moments of my trip.
I'm also anticipating sitting at some table in the land of the free (home of the brave) and having to answer the question, "So Lori, how was your trip?"
So its a preparation for me, and a blog for you! Hurrah, it all evens out in the end.
I realize that I have not told you about Siena! Oh Siena, thank heaven for you - you were all you were supposed to be! It's so nice when your expectations are met and exceeded - it is so nice!
Blythe and I arrived at our lovely hostel Fattoria di Something Wonderful, and our lovely host Bernice praised Jimmy the Splint, our specTACular smartcar, and welcomed us into her totally amazing farmhouse. There were even garages for the tractors and whatnot, and the next day at breakfast blythe and I spotted what could only have been Bernice's dad trimming the bushes in their totally glorious garden.
The first night we went to Siena, and found probably the only restaurant open after wandering around in circles, getting kissed at by boys, and walking around at "Italian Walking Around Your City" hour, which is 6. Seriuosly, everyone goes on a walk at 6.
So we walked. I bought the green scarf you may or may not be seeing in all my pictures hence. We found the restaurant, and despite its seeming to have a "west Indies" theme, had some pretty awesome Pecorino cheese appetizer, with some sort of jelly made of heaven to go with it. I believe blythe got some sort of ravioli that blew her mind, and I got the traditional big cylinder spaghetti (the kind that looks like the noodles I made in my Play-Doh press back in the day, snaps to mom for buying me that, b/c i LOVED IT). It was delish, and the house wine was of course amazing as it probably came from the hill over there.
After a little wine and song (and searching for non-existant bars that are open late) we wandered into the suburbs for an hour, only to wander somewhere else, and eventually find Jimmy the Splint, our trusty smart car and drive home. The medieval street plan must have been devised to confuse invaders to death, as we were just that. Were it not for the loving arms of our Smartcar, Jimmy, we might've died of the stress of it all. Luckily Siena is powerfully serene and awesome, so actually we were fine, just tired and confused.
Next day, SanGimigniano!
To those I'm about to link to,
I salute you!
I've only recently clued-in to the fact that whenever I link to anyone, either here or on my wiki , I may end up with an email from that person, however far away they seem. This is almost always a super cool and uplifting sort of thing (what's better than a few comments from a semi-random person you admire, or an email of snaps for a book i had listed in my Favorite Books on my profile). I really like linking to people/things in my blog (have ya noticed?) and well, I'm going to keep on linkin' onto others' sites, b/c its the frickin' interNET, yo!
I liken owning the fact that those who i link to probs will find me on their reference page (first time that happened, it was with my Boss - and it was sortof funny/awesome) and be like, "hm", to owning the fact that if I say hi to people on the street, they may also go, "hm."
Seems to me that the kind of peolpe who have reference pages, blogs, etc... are the kind of people that wouldn't go "Hm," but would probably go more like, "hey!" or even "right back atcha!" and that is just nice. The internet can be so wonderful.
I've only recently clued-in to the fact that whenever I link to anyone, either here or on my wiki , I may end up with an email from that person, however far away they seem. This is almost always a super cool and uplifting sort of thing (what's better than a few comments from a semi-random person you admire, or an email of snaps for a book i had listed in my Favorite Books on my profile). I really like linking to people/things in my blog (have ya noticed?) and well, I'm going to keep on linkin' onto others' sites, b/c its the frickin' interNET, yo!
I liken owning the fact that those who i link to probs will find me on their reference page (first time that happened, it was with my Boss - and it was sortof funny/awesome) and be like, "hm", to owning the fact that if I say hi to people on the street, they may also go, "hm."
Seems to me that the kind of peolpe who have reference pages, blogs, etc... are the kind of people that wouldn't go "Hm," but would probably go more like, "hey!" or even "right back atcha!" and that is just nice. The internet can be so wonderful.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Stay awake.
Mary Poppins sang those words to those two adorable children when they couldn't go to sleep. I've been having weird trouble sleeping lately as well, and so has Miss. T. So I wrote her an email. NOw, miss blythe is the gal who probs/definitely told me that I should blog, so in thanks and in laziness (which is almost like a double thanks, coming from me, espesh lately - i blame the moon for my lethargy) here's the email I sent her.
See you round the web browser soon!
I've been having "insomnia," too!
I think about all the college boys whose advances I refused. Its totally awesome. I watch house, but he doesn't help.
Insomnia is what people not in Roald Dahl books get when they don't use their brains enough, so you should learn another language/do something really stressful, like flamenco dancing. I could never get to sleep in high school, except when I was taking AP Chem. I worked my brain so hard, that my body could do nothing but sleep.
I was in London all day today, and it was soo cool! Portobello market, or however its spelled, is another thing from my journeys that I will be importing to St. Louis. StL just got a lot more fun as of June 12. I also plan on having metrolink parties. We'll ride it all the way to the airport and back and have a party on a car. I of course got this idea from i website. newmindspace.com i think. I only looked at it b/c the head girl's name si Lori, and I like to check out other Loris on the scene. SHe's cool and I REALLY like what her deal is about. I'd link to her on my blog (ed. oops, I just did), and the to guy whose blog let me to hers, but then they'll start reading my blog and my admiration of them might be all too public. I don't like people knowing i admire them until I think they have a few reasons to admire me. Which I suppose they would. I have traveled a good deal of the western world. THat reminds me! I'm going to be in dublin for easter, and I need to look up what the Easter Rising was.
I picked up a copy of Ulysses. I need to read joyce if I'm going to ireland. So far from the introduction i think Joyce kept it amazingly real, though it seems as though he's kept it that real in his books from like, describing how Leo Bloom (also a character in a Mel Brooks movie/musical...coincidence? Mel Brooks a multifaceted genius? Tcha?) poops. I guess I will find Joyce's violation of the cult of the body refreshingly refreshing. We'll see. Its all an excuse not to read Catch 22, a book that did not cure my insomnia, and makes me go a little crazy. I think that's the idea, to show you how the mind of a soldier is like, all a catch 22 and how its all so inside out and upside down. But geez.
I like VOnnegut's morality, or lack thereof (I'm an intellectual, ps, I use "lack thereof" --- though I did almost not put two L's in intellectual.) --- at least Mr. V's certain about it. THe catch 22 guy makes me crazy. I'm like, man, speak english!
Just checked out the easter rising wiki page. ITs long. IRish people had some troubles. THe introduction of Ulysses compared them to Jews. Correctly so, I suppose. Irish people, generally, seem to be less judgemental about ya. I read in my Rick Steve's travel book, i heart it, how rick met some irish dude in a bar where there's a smoking ban - its everywhere in ireland now -- and he was like, "what's next, no guiness? If we don't die, how can we go to heaven?"
I think you could agree!
Start using your brain more, dude. You'll sleep like a baby.
I might blog this letter, I'm feelin lazy, despite my having a real internet connection. My hostel tomorrow is in SW london. i have to take a light rail to get there! Good? Bad? We'll see. I'm struggling with the blog, b/c I want to get up-to-date with italy, and with march for that matter, but I just can't bring myself to -- I'm usually in too bad of a mood to really do the week of paradise in italy justice. It was just so magical, i should've done it hours within arriving. I don't know if I'll get to go to elenora's this time around...she takes about a month to get a hold of me, and I might want to go stay for free in london and get some shopping in before i head to the Dday beaches, and then home, hopefully to a job (to have metrolink parties!).
Anyway, what I was saying is that I can't seem to figure out if I should return to the italy pages, or re-visit italy (and march)(and belgium)(and holland)(oh, and germany...i'm so worldly) as I go. I think I might revisit b/c the pressure is killing me and the blog be sufferin'!
Ok dudette.
Peace out and goodnight.
Lori
See you round the web browser soon!
I've been having "insomnia," too!
I think about all the college boys whose advances I refused. Its totally awesome. I watch house, but he doesn't help.
Insomnia is what people not in Roald Dahl books get when they don't use their brains enough, so you should learn another language/do something really stressful, like flamenco dancing. I could never get to sleep in high school, except when I was taking AP Chem. I worked my brain so hard, that my body could do nothing but sleep.
I was in London all day today, and it was soo cool! Portobello market, or however its spelled, is another thing from my journeys that I will be importing to St. Louis. StL just got a lot more fun as of June 12. I also plan on having metrolink parties. We'll ride it all the way to the airport and back and have a party on a car. I of course got this idea from i website. newmindspace.com i think. I only looked at it b/c the head girl's name si Lori, and I like to check out other Loris on the scene. SHe's cool and I REALLY like what her deal is about. I'd link to her on my blog (ed. oops, I just did), and the to guy whose blog let me to hers, but then they'll start reading my blog and my admiration of them might be all too public. I don't like people knowing i admire them until I think they have a few reasons to admire me. Which I suppose they would. I have traveled a good deal of the western world. THat reminds me! I'm going to be in dublin for easter, and I need to look up what the Easter Rising was.
I picked up a copy of Ulysses. I need to read joyce if I'm going to ireland. So far from the introduction i think Joyce kept it amazingly real, though it seems as though he's kept it that real in his books from like, describing how Leo Bloom (also a character in a Mel Brooks movie/musical...coincidence? Mel Brooks a multifaceted genius? Tcha?) poops. I guess I will find Joyce's violation of the cult of the body refreshingly refreshing. We'll see. Its all an excuse not to read Catch 22, a book that did not cure my insomnia, and makes me go a little crazy. I think that's the idea, to show you how the mind of a soldier is like, all a catch 22 and how its all so inside out and upside down. But geez.
I like VOnnegut's morality, or lack thereof (I'm an intellectual, ps, I use "lack thereof" --- though I did almost not put two L's in intellectual.) --- at least Mr. V's certain about it. THe catch 22 guy makes me crazy. I'm like, man, speak english!
Just checked out the easter rising wiki page. ITs long. IRish people had some troubles. THe introduction of Ulysses compared them to Jews. Correctly so, I suppose. Irish people, generally, seem to be less judgemental about ya. I read in my Rick Steve's travel book, i heart it, how rick met some irish dude in a bar where there's a smoking ban - its everywhere in ireland now -- and he was like, "what's next, no guiness? If we don't die, how can we go to heaven?"
I think you could agree!
Start using your brain more, dude. You'll sleep like a baby.
I might blog this letter, I'm feelin lazy, despite my having a real internet connection. My hostel tomorrow is in SW london. i have to take a light rail to get there! Good? Bad? We'll see. I'm struggling with the blog, b/c I want to get up-to-date with italy, and with march for that matter, but I just can't bring myself to -- I'm usually in too bad of a mood to really do the week of paradise in italy justice. It was just so magical, i should've done it hours within arriving. I don't know if I'll get to go to elenora's this time around...she takes about a month to get a hold of me, and I might want to go stay for free in london and get some shopping in before i head to the Dday beaches, and then home, hopefully to a job (to have metrolink parties!).
Anyway, what I was saying is that I can't seem to figure out if I should return to the italy pages, or re-visit italy (and march)(and belgium)(and holland)(oh, and germany...i'm so worldly) as I go. I think I might revisit b/c the pressure is killing me and the blog be sufferin'!
Ok dudette.
Peace out and goodnight.
Lori
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
reach out and touch some tuscany
Tuscany:
- We leave Elenora and take Jimmy the Splint to Volterra, up a giant hill, Volterra is cool, and I think I already mentioned this. There was a cool Brazilian lady working at the Gelateria, and tuscany is so incandescent and green and beautiful, even when its cloudy.
- The 4 of us (Including Jimmy, Me, Blythe, and One-Eyed Steve) ... to be continued!
Hello, Italy.
- Going to find Blythe in Stanstead – she was at the pub the whole time and I was stupid not to check! Damn!
- Arriving in
- From P
- Our hostel owner and her 2 buddies (who worked in film or for a newspaper or i don't know in Milan) hung out with us that morning, and we chilled with her 2 fluffy white dogs, a wild horse, and a dog that looked like a dr. seuss character, and who i think was 100 years old in dog years. Elenora, the owner, told us about how she produces jazz records, and her friends make movies or write or something, and they are just neat people who co-own a country house. Its cool, and everyone should go there. They were such fun to hang out with after all the drama, and it was just so easy to stumble through my semi-italian speech, it was so nice how everyone was so encouraging and like, Oh wow, speak italian! wooo. Makes it easy to practice when you think people want to understand you.
SUPER BOWL in france
Ok kids, we all saw the superbowl, and we are all full of glee that Chicago got stomped. WHy didn't Prince sing more songs? Remember that time that Chicago scored way too early and we were all worried that chicago would win? Remember that one girl who yelled so loud you wanted to throw a chicken wing at her, but you resisted?
I do.
We're allglad that emilie and I wore coordinated outfits and we're all glad that the one annoying girl with the annoying chicago accent who kept yelling at the TV screen like a banshee (the one who almost got a chicken wing in the noggin'?) ended up crying as the Bears lost like the crap team they are. Remember how you don't like Chicago, just 'cuz? I don't know about football, but I heard their quarterback's sense of direction is so off he could jump out of a boat and miss the water.
Side note!
Before the superbowl Emilie and I had dinner with the Calderos (Best Family Ever) and we sang Grease, and David Bowie with their daughter and it was awesome. Emilie impressed everyone with her mad Pink Floyd skillz. Way to know Pink Floyd emilie, but I will always beat you with my Beatles knowledge. Together we are unstoppable.
I do.
We're allglad that emilie and I wore coordinated outfits and we're all glad that the one annoying girl with the annoying chicago accent who kept yelling at the TV screen like a banshee (the one who almost got a chicken wing in the noggin'?) ended up crying as the Bears lost like the crap team they are. Remember how you don't like Chicago, just 'cuz? I don't know about football, but I heard their quarterback's sense of direction is so off he could jump out of a boat and miss the water.
Side note!
Before the superbowl Emilie and I had dinner with the Calderos (Best Family Ever) and we sang Grease, and David Bowie with their daughter and it was awesome. Emilie impressed everyone with her mad Pink Floyd skillz. Way to know Pink Floyd emilie, but I will always beat you with my Beatles knowledge. Together we are unstoppable.
Beer pong and flip cup are more fun with foreigners
More details to come, but FYI i have not completely lost my touch on the beer pong court. Nor has Emilie, her team made it to the finals! Snaps to Jen and her apartment for keeping the American Dream alive.
We brought along Holly the English Lady, and she really tore up the beer pong circuit. It was excellent for her first time! I ended up losing, but it was close. Somewhere along the night we (and by we I mean me and Emilie) decided to put on our representin' costumes and really fight for something we believed in, like our alliegances to our respective origins, sorta. Hers being sweden, mine being StL, missouri. We both weren't born in either, but hey, i felt the love, and I wanted to share it. I also wanted a reason to wear the StL flag like a cape.
We played flip cup later to much success. Holly even joined (again her first time with the kooky semi-alcoholicness of american drinking games) and she got occasionally confused, but I'd give her a total A for effort. Caroline, my superhero of a friend, who is also french (oh snap!) stopped by later and we went to a gay - but not gay- bar where it was smoky and me and emilie wanted to just go home b/c it was torture.
Holly wandered away to a taxi sometime before this as she is known to do. SHe is tall, so we figured she'd be safe, and she was.
We were greeted by a half-blown-up air mattress and freezing air, but emilie and I managed to sleep a little and laugh a lot b/c it was just such an uncomfortable way to sleep, therefore it was hilarious.
The next day was time for hangovers, needless to say.
But that was not to stop us! Emilie's semi-boyfriend-but-not-really-at-all-like-not-at-all-he-was-just-in-love-with-her-and-whatev was in town and he was going to bring a friend and we were to dine with them. Well, I was like, not feeling all that cute and was a little wary of meeing another french boy and having to talk to him about the war in iraq so I was like, "em i hope this guy is not in the mood for love b/c I am NOT, and I'll bet he is not cute. "
Well that was poetic of me, b/c Emilie's friend's friend was probably one of the most attractive people I've seen in real life. So that was a fun dinner.
And I didn't look cute! I had glasses on, for heaven's sake. Sigh.
Later on in the evening was pretty swell, as we went to this mod lookin' lounge (where they play 60's soul music, hello I am sold) called "Voxx" to hang out with Becky from Cali and her french buddies and then went to 42, this nightclub where they played the frenchest music possible (they played "Champs Elysses, man...anyone who took french class knows that song) and I drank beer and stayed up suuuuuuuuuuper late.
We caught the bus home at around 5am. Emilie and I are too hard-core for our own good, seriously. You want to party with us...but maybe you don't b/c you might be embarrased if you are out-partied by a couple of smiley girls.
We brought along Holly the English Lady, and she really tore up the beer pong circuit. It was excellent for her first time! I ended up losing, but it was close. Somewhere along the night we (and by we I mean me and Emilie) decided to put on our representin' costumes and really fight for something we believed in, like our alliegances to our respective origins, sorta. Hers being sweden, mine being StL, missouri. We both weren't born in either, but hey, i felt the love, and I wanted to share it. I also wanted a reason to wear the StL flag like a cape.
We played flip cup later to much success. Holly even joined (again her first time with the kooky semi-alcoholicness of american drinking games) and she got occasionally confused, but I'd give her a total A for effort. Caroline, my superhero of a friend, who is also french (oh snap!) stopped by later and we went to a gay - but not gay- bar where it was smoky and me and emilie wanted to just go home b/c it was torture.
Holly wandered away to a taxi sometime before this as she is known to do. SHe is tall, so we figured she'd be safe, and she was.
We were greeted by a half-blown-up air mattress and freezing air, but emilie and I managed to sleep a little and laugh a lot b/c it was just such an uncomfortable way to sleep, therefore it was hilarious.
The next day was time for hangovers, needless to say.
But that was not to stop us! Emilie's semi-boyfriend-but-not-really-at-all-like-not-at-all-he-was-just-in-love-with-her-and-whatev was in town and he was going to bring a friend and we were to dine with them. Well, I was like, not feeling all that cute and was a little wary of meeing another french boy and having to talk to him about the war in iraq so I was like, "em i hope this guy is not in the mood for love b/c I am NOT, and I'll bet he is not cute. "
Well that was poetic of me, b/c Emilie's friend's friend was probably one of the most attractive people I've seen in real life. So that was a fun dinner.
And I didn't look cute! I had glasses on, for heaven's sake. Sigh.
Later on in the evening was pretty swell, as we went to this mod lookin' lounge (where they play 60's soul music, hello I am sold) called "Voxx" to hang out with Becky from Cali and her french buddies and then went to 42, this nightclub where they played the frenchest music possible (they played "Champs Elysses, man...anyone who took french class knows that song) and I drank beer and stayed up suuuuuuuuuuper late.
We caught the bus home at around 5am. Emilie and I are too hard-core for our own good, seriously. You want to party with us...but maybe you don't b/c you might be embarrased if you are out-partied by a couple of smiley girls.
The coolest family ever, and the house-party concert time
I miss them, actually and havn't seen them in a while. This picture is me wearing the guitarist's shoe b/c i added a percussive stomping effect when I sang "Hallelujia I love him so" and there was joking and I ended up wearing his shoe b/c it was funny enough for me. It looks good, i think.
We hung out in the kitchen, where all the gleeful french mathematician/musicians/? made fun of me for almost understanding/speaking french, but it was a happy sort of making fun, like what you'd do to your 23 year old cousin if you were 40 and having a party at 3am and your 23 year old cousin laughed a lot but didn't QUITE understand what you were saying ever. With me? It was probably one of the best nights ever, and you know I loved dancing with the kids as we sang a half-hour version of Yellow Submarine. I also have a secret handshake with the kids now, too. Family time, how I miss you!
There was another gal that sang, but she had this very like, let me scat and be all jazzy sortof style, and I was like, I cannot feel the spirit if I'm babbidy-do'ing all the way to improv boredomland. That's just me.
Its lucky that we didn't end up at some bar in the city, b/c the house party was a much bigger success, and I will say it again, I am so lucky to know this family. yay!
Dinner parties and fending off French Philosophers
I do give the philosopher dude snaps for jauntily laying down on the table and pensively biting an apple. I mean, that takes courage.
My jukebox haunts me
After I climbed the Croix Rousse one night, look what I saw in the window of some Jukebox-r-us store. My baby! I miss my jukebox.
I also miss 24 hour internet, have I mentioned this?
I also miss 24 hour internet, have I mentioned this?
Saturday, February 24, 2007
F.P.P: Stay away from Garden City - 34th Street
Here's the follow up the Tim did to the article I just posted earlier. I am so loving this "blog this" function on the DailyPensylvanian's website. It captures some essences, and just how not-awesome really intelligent people can be... a lot of which I came to discover in that little year, and that youc an discover in this little dialogue.
F.P.P: Stay away from Garden City - 34th Street
ps though I really need to tell you all about my crazy Superbowl week into vacation shenanigans, so this is really only a walk down memory lane, and mostly it is a walk only for my own benefit. But enjoy 19 year old me!
I'm pretty much the same, though that first year at the U of P made me a littttttlle bit more hot tempered, and a litttttttle less patient with people who seem to not be forces for good.
F.P.P: Stay away from Garden City - 34th Street
ps though I really need to tell you all about my crazy Superbowl week into vacation shenanigans, so this is really only a walk down memory lane, and mostly it is a walk only for my own benefit. But enjoy 19 year old me!
I'm pretty much the same, though that first year at the U of P made me a littttttlle bit more hot tempered, and a litttttttle less patient with people who seem to not be forces for good.
Nobody Likes Tuscan Eggplants Anymore
Hey guys, remember when I was a baby freshman and my room was "profiled" by 2 kooky guys wandering the freshman doorms? Little did I or they know it, but 2 years later, i would be sitting on a porch listening to their band play, I'm wWiith You by avril lavigne on a child's guitar and I think, a kazoo.
ROOM: Nobody Likes Tuscan Eggplants Anymore - Undefined Section
Tuscan eggplant. Those guys were a breath of fresh air in that hallway, I'll tell you that, and it was even nicer to hear them talk about the visit later on. They too, felt yucky vibes. Luckily, we all survived the ordeal, and they are now my facebook friends, b/c at a time, we were real friends. What's up Tim and Anthony!
I've been thinking about how my love of the StL will keep me from so many people that I think are awesome due to the fact that despite being awesome, most of my U of P buddies are on the East Coast. Will I survive only on homecomings, reunions and Mask and Wig shows alone?
It will be hard.
ROOM: Nobody Likes Tuscan Eggplants Anymore - Undefined Section
Tuscan eggplant. Those guys were a breath of fresh air in that hallway, I'll tell you that, and it was even nicer to hear them talk about the visit later on. They too, felt yucky vibes. Luckily, we all survived the ordeal, and they are now my facebook friends, b/c at a time, we were real friends. What's up Tim and Anthony!
I've been thinking about how my love of the StL will keep me from so many people that I think are awesome due to the fact that despite being awesome, most of my U of P buddies are on the East Coast. Will I survive only on homecomings, reunions and Mask and Wig shows alone?
It will be hard.
Friday, February 09, 2007
The week I didn't sleep a lot
So it all began last tuesday, when I decided to go out until basically Monday.
So bullet points, as its getting late...promise to fill in the blanks ASAP/post vacay:
- friday, emilie arrives, we have a crazy night of Beer pong and flip cup, at one point I decide to wear my St. Louis flag (that I brought, b/c I represent). I also wore blue shoes that gave me blisters as we went to the gay, but not gay club with my french BFF Caro.
- Emilie and I slept on a half inflated airmattress in the cold, and it was so bad it was funny. We were v. hungover and angry the next day and didn't want to move, but we had to get bagels, and then there was more on our calendar....
-Saturday we met with Emilie's friend Meme (Aurelien, but I call him Meme, as do his country friends) and his super super sexy friend Alban (who has a super cute girlfriend, so hey). I was not expecting such cuteness. We ate dinner, talked about toys, it was cute. Not as cute as Alban (nothing is really), but it was a cute evening with french dudes fussing over the quality of the wine and taking charge as boys out to dinner with girls (even as friends) should. Did I mention that Alban was cute?
- We then went to the Voxx, a cool loungy place where they'll actually play soul music from time to time. Excellent! We hung out with Beck and her bf, and some other french couple.
- Then we go to the 42 which is a very very preppy night club/ski lodge moment where they played the FRENCHEST music ever. It was a cliche, and it was awesome.
- Catch the bus at 5:30am to home.
- Sunday we were not as hungover, so we watched Harold and Kumar, and then went to Phillipe and Agnes' to sing, have some tea, and eat a "green dinner" (it was all made of green stuff) and just talk about life, politics, life and america/france. Good times! The caldero's are awesome. Philippe introduced us to some lovely french classics, and Emilie sang pink floyd, and we all sang us some David Bowie Ground Control to Major Tom goodness.
- Then it was Superbowl time. Lots of screamy Chicago types, and we colts supporters kept our cool. It was fun! Football culture rules. I will be frequenting bars for suuperbowls of the future to be sure.
- We stayed up in Jen's apt for a bit, and caught the bus at 5am to home. Monday morning was hard, and it sortof gave me a cold for the whole week.
But it was worth it!
Peace out. See you in a couple weeks.
So bullet points, as its getting late...promise to fill in the blanks ASAP/post vacay:
- friday, emilie arrives, we have a crazy night of Beer pong and flip cup, at one point I decide to wear my St. Louis flag (that I brought, b/c I represent). I also wore blue shoes that gave me blisters as we went to the gay, but not gay club with my french BFF Caro.
- Emilie and I slept on a half inflated airmattress in the cold, and it was so bad it was funny. We were v. hungover and angry the next day and didn't want to move, but we had to get bagels, and then there was more on our calendar....
-Saturday we met with Emilie's friend Meme (Aurelien, but I call him Meme, as do his country friends) and his super super sexy friend Alban (who has a super cute girlfriend, so hey). I was not expecting such cuteness. We ate dinner, talked about toys, it was cute. Not as cute as Alban (nothing is really), but it was a cute evening with french dudes fussing over the quality of the wine and taking charge as boys out to dinner with girls (even as friends) should. Did I mention that Alban was cute?
- We then went to the Voxx, a cool loungy place where they'll actually play soul music from time to time. Excellent! We hung out with Beck and her bf, and some other french couple.
- Then we go to the 42 which is a very very preppy night club/ski lodge moment where they played the FRENCHEST music ever. It was a cliche, and it was awesome.
- Catch the bus at 5:30am to home.
- Sunday we were not as hungover, so we watched Harold and Kumar, and then went to Phillipe and Agnes' to sing, have some tea, and eat a "green dinner" (it was all made of green stuff) and just talk about life, politics, life and america/france. Good times! The caldero's are awesome. Philippe introduced us to some lovely french classics, and Emilie sang pink floyd, and we all sang us some David Bowie Ground Control to Major Tom goodness.
- Then it was Superbowl time. Lots of screamy Chicago types, and we colts supporters kept our cool. It was fun! Football culture rules. I will be frequenting bars for suuperbowls of the future to be sure.
- We stayed up in Jen's apt for a bit, and caught the bus at 5am to home. Monday morning was hard, and it sortof gave me a cold for the whole week.
But it was worth it!
Peace out. See you in a couple weeks.
The Toasted Ravioli's
I'm starting a band.
I was inspired by many things, but the straws that broke the proverbial camel's back (actually it was 2 pieces of straw) were Sara Bareilles and Raining Jane.
So far...
Schaper: bongos, triangle, tambourine
Lori: acoustic and vocals
Wamble: ivories
We're still looking for an actual drummer, and a bass player -- but really any instrument will do (might even consider the kazoo or the spoons, or the "can filled with beans" as well).
Its exciting!
Also in exciting news, I begin my whirlwind vacation (its supposed to be the SKI vacation in france, but I forgot my skis in mountainous missouri --- man, I love skiing, but like, not gonna happen...I have to live!) beginning with a week under the Tuscan sun with Miss Blythe, of Duchek award (among others) fame.
I'm bringing my St. Louis flag, and we're gonna fly it.
One of my gal pals from Penn, with whom I was lucky enough to co-write and perform the Senior Performing Arts Night Medley, "Suddenly Senior" (to the tune of that ever present favorite, "Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors, naturally --- I choreographed)...well she's got friends in italian places who are researching their Art History PhD's in florence, and well, we're going to drop an StL bomb on her friends, and its going to be fun! It's times like these I relish being a 24 year old college graduate - I know people all over the world who in turn know other people, and we all want to party, essentially. Its great.
Old Man Harig sent me a lovely email of tuscan reccomendations, and we're going to check those out, and while away the hours in Siena, the less american Florence. Excellent. Cinqueterre should be neat, and well, you, loyal reader, will hear all about it's limoncello-fed craziness. I really hope we can meet the art historys, they should ad some local flava to our rambling.
Onto the next leg of the trip its time to chill with the Northern Europeans - Hamburg to see Aubrey, who I've known since Kirkwood Children's Chorale (we'll see if she remembers "We are the Young" - I know she will) and then off to amsterdam for some tourist seeing, bike watching, and eh. I'll end my sojurn in Belgium, where I will eat waffles, have some fries, and hopefully shop in antwerp and see Brussells (OK go is playing on the 23rd, why are they sold out, don't they remember how I was the first Missourian to like them probably?)
Let me know if you want to join my band - all are welcome, even if you're just passing by. Rehearsals start June 07.
I was inspired by many things, but the straws that broke the proverbial camel's back (actually it was 2 pieces of straw) were Sara Bareilles and Raining Jane.
So far...
Schaper: bongos, triangle, tambourine
Lori: acoustic and vocals
Wamble: ivories
We're still looking for an actual drummer, and a bass player -- but really any instrument will do (might even consider the kazoo or the spoons, or the "can filled with beans" as well).
Its exciting!
Also in exciting news, I begin my whirlwind vacation (its supposed to be the SKI vacation in france, but I forgot my skis in mountainous missouri --- man, I love skiing, but like, not gonna happen...I have to live!) beginning with a week under the Tuscan sun with Miss Blythe, of Duchek award (among others) fame.
I'm bringing my St. Louis flag, and we're gonna fly it.
One of my gal pals from Penn, with whom I was lucky enough to co-write and perform the Senior Performing Arts Night Medley, "Suddenly Senior" (to the tune of that ever present favorite, "Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors, naturally --- I choreographed)...well she's got friends in italian places who are researching their Art History PhD's in florence, and well, we're going to drop an StL bomb on her friends, and its going to be fun! It's times like these I relish being a 24 year old college graduate - I know people all over the world who in turn know other people, and we all want to party, essentially. Its great.
Old Man Harig sent me a lovely email of tuscan reccomendations, and we're going to check those out, and while away the hours in Siena, the less american Florence. Excellent. Cinqueterre should be neat, and well, you, loyal reader, will hear all about it's limoncello-fed craziness. I really hope we can meet the art historys, they should ad some local flava to our rambling.
Onto the next leg of the trip its time to chill with the Northern Europeans - Hamburg to see Aubrey, who I've known since Kirkwood Children's Chorale (we'll see if she remembers "We are the Young" - I know she will) and then off to amsterdam for some tourist seeing, bike watching, and eh. I'll end my sojurn in Belgium, where I will eat waffles, have some fries, and hopefully shop in antwerp and see Brussells (OK go is playing on the 23rd, why are they sold out, don't they remember how I was the first Missourian to like them probably?)
Let me know if you want to join my band - all are welcome, even if you're just passing by. Rehearsals start June 07.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Steak Dinners at 3am and annoying 18 year old british punks
Last tuesday I was lucky enough to get to hang out with my awesome buddy Caroline, her friend Julie, and some rakish bartender dudes (who also somehow knew about some diner-meets-french-bistro thing (!) that has steak dinners with au gratin potatoes (or fries, naturally) served with a background of Phill Collins easy-listening at 3-4am.)
Awesome.
Jen, one of my favorite indianans came along, and we just had a time of it.
The evening started off with a lively concert by what seemed to be a rather skilled, but not too skilled college orchestra. They played some violin pieces for some virtuoso dude, and I was like, um I know a virtuoso, too, though I think we are in a fight. (Are we, J?) Anyway, I was adequately impressed, politely even. They played "an american in paris" by the one and only tin pan alley gangsta George Gershwin- and you just gotta love you some American in Paris.
My buddy Zak decided that they played it in a way that emphasized that Americans are vulgar and only want a hamburger in Paris, and though I agree somewhat on his musical commentary, I disagree that the lovely French musicians were striking a low blow to our giant American egos throught he medium of mid-century orchestral music. Also, the jazzy countermelodies that -- one would speculate -- emphasize the burger-lust are really Gershwin's thing, I bet the orchestra just played'em loud b/c they are Awesome, capital A. They are. They are also very Aerican (re: jazz) and that makes them very special, and something we can all share. And share we did! Oh I love the bluesy part, its just life-giving. I loved it! Live music.
Oh! That reminds me that I simply must tell you about my night o' jazz and laughter with the ever-awesome Caldero family. Wow, it was awesome. I would like to teach the world to sing, and it'd be ok even if the harmony wasn't perfect. Snaps to Anges' daugher Solene for being an awesome 12 year old Saggitarian (December 15th homegirl, to be exact!). I am bringing you Emilie, and we shall sing Grease!
Was I digressing just then? Anyway, mid-chilling at Caro's favorite english pub, we were (un)lucky enough to encounter cocky british 18-year-old "i hate american mannerisms" boy, who for the sake of brevity I shall now refer to as "Baby Spice." Seriously, kid? Mannerisms? Am I back at Penn where people mock me just b/c of where I'm from? Is that where we are again? Clearly it is.
Take me back to the show me state where everyone's from everywhere and at least the semi-illuminati I hang around are willing to sit back and soak up your mannerisms before they decide they hate you and your kind. Luckily (?) I've been par for this predjudicial course before (before France, even) -- labeled as God knows what (actually He does know) and well, though the power of my individuality couldn't withstand say, a presidential election, I was able to shrug of Baby Spice's gutless jabs with out giving a much of a damn. I rolled my eyes just to rub my hateful american mannerisms in his face.
This a kid whose grandfather may have found beside mine in World War frickin' TWO. And he hates me for my mannerisms?
Sometimes I wonder if people are actually for real.
Anyway, he got crazy yelled at by Caro's legit friend from chzechoslovakia or however you spell it, or divide it up into a bunch of "little republics of..." -- Martin the dissenting but convivial eastern european expat basically told Baby Spice to chill. Needless to say, it was frustrating (a girl doesn't like being hated...at least not before I tell you that I thought Napoleon Dynamite was LAME and that Dave Matthews just doesn't move me), but I'm brave enough to be a french fry - take that as you may.
Why always with the "why does everyone hate me, I'm just a nice Missouri girl?" drama? It must be very tiring, being a hater. Anyway, Miss Emilie is coming to town TONIGHT for a weekend of french beer pong, potatoes au gratin, maybe some absurdist french existentialist theatre (how many -isms can YOU fit into YOUR play?), and some superbowl, and probably a baguette here or there. Its exciting!
Awesome.
Jen, one of my favorite indianans came along, and we just had a time of it.
The evening started off with a lively concert by what seemed to be a rather skilled, but not too skilled college orchestra. They played some violin pieces for some virtuoso dude, and I was like, um I know a virtuoso, too, though I think we are in a fight. (Are we, J?) Anyway, I was adequately impressed, politely even. They played "an american in paris" by the one and only tin pan alley gangsta George Gershwin- and you just gotta love you some American in Paris.
My buddy Zak decided that they played it in a way that emphasized that Americans are vulgar and only want a hamburger in Paris, and though I agree somewhat on his musical commentary, I disagree that the lovely French musicians were striking a low blow to our giant American egos throught he medium of mid-century orchestral music. Also, the jazzy countermelodies that -- one would speculate -- emphasize the burger-lust are really Gershwin's thing, I bet the orchestra just played'em loud b/c they are Awesome, capital A. They are. They are also very Aerican (re: jazz) and that makes them very special, and something we can all share. And share we did! Oh I love the bluesy part, its just life-giving. I loved it! Live music.
Oh! That reminds me that I simply must tell you about my night o' jazz and laughter with the ever-awesome Caldero family. Wow, it was awesome. I would like to teach the world to sing, and it'd be ok even if the harmony wasn't perfect. Snaps to Anges' daugher Solene for being an awesome 12 year old Saggitarian (December 15th homegirl, to be exact!). I am bringing you Emilie, and we shall sing Grease!
Was I digressing just then? Anyway, mid-chilling at Caro's favorite english pub, we were (un)lucky enough to encounter cocky british 18-year-old "i hate american mannerisms" boy, who for the sake of brevity I shall now refer to as "Baby Spice." Seriously, kid? Mannerisms? Am I back at Penn where people mock me just b/c of where I'm from? Is that where we are again? Clearly it is.
Take me back to the show me state where everyone's from everywhere and at least the semi-illuminati I hang around are willing to sit back and soak up your mannerisms before they decide they hate you and your kind. Luckily (?) I've been par for this predjudicial course before (before France, even) -- labeled as God knows what (actually He does know) and well, though the power of my individuality couldn't withstand say, a presidential election, I was able to shrug of Baby Spice's gutless jabs with out giving a much of a damn. I rolled my eyes just to rub my hateful american mannerisms in his face.
This a kid whose grandfather may have found beside mine in World War frickin' TWO. And he hates me for my mannerisms?
Sometimes I wonder if people are actually for real.
Anyway, he got crazy yelled at by Caro's legit friend from chzechoslovakia or however you spell it, or divide it up into a bunch of "little republics of..." -- Martin the dissenting but convivial eastern european expat basically told Baby Spice to chill. Needless to say, it was frustrating (a girl doesn't like being hated...at least not before I tell you that I thought Napoleon Dynamite was LAME and that Dave Matthews just doesn't move me), but I'm brave enough to be a french fry - take that as you may.
Why always with the "why does everyone hate me, I'm just a nice Missouri girl?" drama? It must be very tiring, being a hater. Anyway, Miss Emilie is coming to town TONIGHT for a weekend of french beer pong, potatoes au gratin, maybe some absurdist french existentialist theatre (how many -isms can YOU fit into YOUR play?), and some superbowl, and probably a baguette here or there. Its exciting!
Monday, January 22, 2007
The saints did none of that marching in stuff
Gotta bullet point this one, I'm too busy making my own Jackson Pollock paintings and watching old SNL clips to really give this one any literary flava.
- Spent an evening of fun and football with some Chicagoans visiting Lyon for a food convention. Lots of talking about bbq, and I some/most of my drinks are now on someone named Bob's expense account.
- Little danish/french dude fell hard core in love with me, but I told him to go away, b/c he lives in Chicago (where his girlfriend also lives)- he was cute, though. Boys in europe so far are too slutty for me.
- Jen and Karl were excellent football-watching buddies, and Jen is good at keeping me out of trouble
- Met a girl from Penn! She's studying abroad at Lyon II and she's into urban studies! Excellent.
Friday night I went out with some english ladies to see a couple english bands...they were really into cowbell. That joke never made it across the atlantic (the one about more cowbell) and needless to say, the cowbell player spazzing out all over the place and eventually breaking his drumstick on the cowbell was AMAZING. Blue oyster cult, I've gotta fever, and the only prescription is -- you know.
prescription filled.
We went to a party with a bunch of completely wasted americans chugging jager (classy) and the one guy from SLU was like, yo, and I was like, STL!?! but he was off to be bad at beer pong or something, and wear a weird/dumb baseball hat. My buddy Hols totally ignored this Idaho pretty boy b/c he was annoying and pretentious and pretty much dumb, and her efforts to ignore him were in vain, as ther ignoring him and rolling her eyes at him only made him want to talk to her/us more. That's the way it works!
Saturday we went to another party with a bunch of assistants - nothing too amazing, though I did meet a French guy who's just crazy for america, so it was nice hearing about the US from the perspective of someone else who hearts it, but not blindly. He was also living in Connecticut during 9-11 --- whoa. It was fun to hear how he joined in with everyone -- going shopping the week after, getting back into the city and life, that sort of thing that was really cool to experience if you were there, and I bet he's one of the better informed French people as far as the "when and when not to play the WTC card." Anyway, he was awesome, and I really think his name was Camel...maybe spelled differently, and pronounced Ca-mellllle, but that's an awesome name. Speaking of awesome names, I have a student named Swan. I asked him if it was like, Swan Lake, swan prince sortof thing and he was like, "yes." This french teenager is mad proud of being named Swan, and for that I salute him.
I'm bummed about the saints, but I think it will be ok. Salutes to Jen, who inspired me to watch football until 5 in the morning when I had to get up at 8, and also salutes to Jen for generously offering me a place to lay my head for those lovely 3 hours.
- Spent an evening of fun and football with some Chicagoans visiting Lyon for a food convention. Lots of talking about bbq, and I some/most of my drinks are now on someone named Bob's expense account.
- Little danish/french dude fell hard core in love with me, but I told him to go away, b/c he lives in Chicago (where his girlfriend also lives)- he was cute, though. Boys in europe so far are too slutty for me.
- Jen and Karl were excellent football-watching buddies, and Jen is good at keeping me out of trouble
- Met a girl from Penn! She's studying abroad at Lyon II and she's into urban studies! Excellent.
Friday night I went out with some english ladies to see a couple english bands...they were really into cowbell. That joke never made it across the atlantic (the one about more cowbell) and needless to say, the cowbell player spazzing out all over the place and eventually breaking his drumstick on the cowbell was AMAZING. Blue oyster cult, I've gotta fever, and the only prescription is -- you know.
prescription filled.
We went to a party with a bunch of completely wasted americans chugging jager (classy) and the one guy from SLU was like, yo, and I was like, STL!?! but he was off to be bad at beer pong or something, and wear a weird/dumb baseball hat. My buddy Hols totally ignored this Idaho pretty boy b/c he was annoying and pretentious and pretty much dumb, and her efforts to ignore him were in vain, as ther ignoring him and rolling her eyes at him only made him want to talk to her/us more. That's the way it works!
Saturday we went to another party with a bunch of assistants - nothing too amazing, though I did meet a French guy who's just crazy for america, so it was nice hearing about the US from the perspective of someone else who hearts it, but not blindly. He was also living in Connecticut during 9-11 --- whoa. It was fun to hear how he joined in with everyone -- going shopping the week after, getting back into the city and life, that sort of thing that was really cool to experience if you were there, and I bet he's one of the better informed French people as far as the "when and when not to play the WTC card." Anyway, he was awesome, and I really think his name was Camel...maybe spelled differently, and pronounced Ca-mellllle, but that's an awesome name. Speaking of awesome names, I have a student named Swan. I asked him if it was like, Swan Lake, swan prince sortof thing and he was like, "yes." This french teenager is mad proud of being named Swan, and for that I salute him.
I'm bummed about the saints, but I think it will be ok. Salutes to Jen, who inspired me to watch football until 5 in the morning when I had to get up at 8, and also salutes to Jen for generously offering me a place to lay my head for those lovely 3 hours.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Magic hair products, internet lamentations and stuff
This product is saving my hair from french destruction. I remembered reading - back in 1998 probably -- about how Jennifer Aniston used it, and now I have it, and my hair feels like hair again. Thank you Kiehl's!
In other news, I've spent about 5 hours here at Raconte-moi La Terre (tell me about the earth) Cafe and I am just feeling the pain of not having internet as a part of my everyday life. I can feel myself using internet differently, and I don't like it. I really do prefer intermittent (sp?) internet usage, rather than the desperate mid-day 5 hour binges I go on now - it's just not healthy, kids. I realize this debate just makes no sense to anyone living in america b/c you have Internet integrated into your lives.
well, hey.
I was talking to this english gal, and she's about to move to a place with internet, and we were just talking about how nice it is to look things up whenever you want, but when you don't have internet, you have to write them down, and then when you look them up, its just not as exciting. Sigh. Also, reading all the bajilz of blogs I am into takes some time, but I'm willing, b/c they're good and informative!
I won't give up the fight for internet in my dorm, though I might just try being pragmatic and using my fellow ex-pats internet connections and hospitality (paid back with groceries, booze and friendship of course! a fair trade, i'd say) so that I can get things underway with things.
I'm sure its not the internet itself I miss, but the whole connected and amazing magic of it all.
Sidenote: my buddy Becky was telling me about this show, HEROES and it sounds awesome. I am missing such good TV, huh? I'm getting to see good Cathedrals and foreign stuff, though - I suppose this is a fair trade, too.
My winter vacation is coming up - Blythe is comin' down for some italian back-door galavanting (yay) and then I'm going to northern europe, hopefully with my friend Jen, who is generous enough to come with me! It will be fun, and I'm going to see the WWII memorial, and I'm pretty much stoked.
In other news, I've spent about 5 hours here at Raconte-moi La Terre (tell me about the earth) Cafe and I am just feeling the pain of not having internet as a part of my everyday life. I can feel myself using internet differently, and I don't like it. I really do prefer intermittent (sp?) internet usage, rather than the desperate mid-day 5 hour binges I go on now - it's just not healthy, kids. I realize this debate just makes no sense to anyone living in america b/c you have Internet integrated into your lives.
well, hey.
I was talking to this english gal, and she's about to move to a place with internet, and we were just talking about how nice it is to look things up whenever you want, but when you don't have internet, you have to write them down, and then when you look them up, its just not as exciting. Sigh. Also, reading all the bajilz of blogs I am into takes some time, but I'm willing, b/c they're good and informative!
I won't give up the fight for internet in my dorm, though I might just try being pragmatic and using my fellow ex-pats internet connections and hospitality (paid back with groceries, booze and friendship of course! a fair trade, i'd say) so that I can get things underway with things.
I'm sure its not the internet itself I miss, but the whole connected and amazing magic of it all.
Sidenote: my buddy Becky was telling me about this show, HEROES and it sounds awesome. I am missing such good TV, huh? I'm getting to see good Cathedrals and foreign stuff, though - I suppose this is a fair trade, too.
My winter vacation is coming up - Blythe is comin' down for some italian back-door galavanting (yay) and then I'm going to northern europe, hopefully with my friend Jen, who is generous enough to come with me! It will be fun, and I'm going to see the WWII memorial, and I'm pretty much stoked.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Maybe I do want to call you on your empty pretension.
I think I would be one even if we hadn't peaced out on gentle Tupelo, Mississippi for stubborn and sweltering Missouri when I was a petit bebe.
France is not a show-me country. And that works for France. And that is good.
The proviseur just came in asking who everyone was in the teacher's lounge a few minutes ago. Firstly, she didn't know her own employees, this should be a red flag.
I didn't have my glasses on (its dumb to wear your glasses at the computer) so I just think, "oh, more professors greeting each other, I will be ignored as usual, good."
So, the Proviseur (the principal of sorts) decides to add me to her game of Guess Who, and she has no clue who I am.
This is the woman who said it would be nice if we had a laundry machine in our dorms. (we don't have one) She didn't even say, "...but...." (?)
Anyway, my super cool stagiare was like, Lori, you know you're supposed to like, be more formal and recognize the proviseur when she comes in the room, etc... and I was like, oh sorry I had my glasses on and I can't see, and ok I'll play that game, sure.
Still, I told her my name, my position, greeted her more or less? It was drill sergeant minimalist, I thought.
I can't help but think about Mr. McCallie here.
Did anyone have to be reminded that he was the principal? If others told you to respect the man, finding a reason wasn't a problem (not for me at least). He was a good boss.
This principal DID NOT KNOW ME, but I'm supposed to have some sortof Proviseur mania on the tarmac of my school whenever her plane rolls in? I'm all for respecting your elders, authorities, etc...but pomp and circumstance for a lady who doesn't know her teachers much less her students? It just strikes my american soul as something a little bit yucky.
Maybe its tradition? That's good, tradition is good. I don't know.
I'll of course apologize for not popping a bottle of champagne and doing a little jig when I noticed that she might notice me...on second thought, I'll just lay low, laissez-tomber, laissez-faire -- its v. french, and I must assimilate!
Mr. Harig used to say, "if you have to say your the big enchilada/kahuna/?, you're probably not."
If others have to remind you to curtsey to you, you're probably not much of a monarch.
Papal house of Pomp
Visited Avignon, home of the pont (that doesn't go all the way across, and that you have to pay to walk upon) and the gigantic papal castle. A pont is a bridge, by the way.
Overall, Avignon was neat, the food I enjoyed with my wine was totally delicious, wow. Though it was not very provencal-esque (the region in which we found ourselves is called Provence) -- it was fine -- and I ought to come prepared with directions, a map, and heck, reservations if I want to eat at genuinely authentic restaruants, b/c when traveling in a group of 8 girls, there is no other way.
So we ended up eating at a touristy, though delicious, place. Drinking wine with lunch made me feel a moment of alcoholic panic, but then I realized I was in France/Europe, where they're not ashamed of drinking alcohol in broad daylight like we Americans tend to be...right?
And this cool picture of a sassy lady and her fierce fleur de lis dress. You can't see'em, but to the right there are popes looking JEAL-OUS! The palace offered some cool fashions (not pictured -- the swiss guard outfit! love it), interesting and hidden fleur-de-lises, and a REALLY boring guy on the audio tour. They really ought to make museums take themselves less seriously.
I think Snoop Dogg would've narrated the lives of the popes with incredible nuance.
Also, they had all these cool wooden renderings of the papal palace in its many reincarnations, and I say, why not make them removable! Build your own papal palace! People would love it.
Think more Science center and less "crazy stone dungeon with stuff to read."
Exercises in inappropriateness
My pal Becky just called me to vent about her class discussion on 9-11.
Her first words, after my, "hellooooo?" were, "I just cried in front of 14 high schoolers."
Poor americans, we are so weepy. There's some email joke circulating (or that circulated) showing each county's reaction to Zidane's totallylame headbutt that lost France the world cup, and America's reaction is, of course, thinking its a terrorist threat or something -- I, being american and all, don't really understand.
Its a dillema really, b/c you don't want to be the weepy american who over-importance-izes 9-11, but still, a little bit of you is like, "ow?" I'd be happier if they made fun of New Orleans and all that crap that went down, frankly. (NOLA's going to be fine eventually, though, if you asked me...or these guys. will you buy a shirt already?)
My friend emillie was just hanging out in a bar in the countryside of western france when some girl asked her if she knew anyone who died in the twin towers.
"Yes." she responded. (in french, b/c she's a gangsta french speaka)
Emilie's from quite near new york (in more than just a geographical sense, though her hometown in CT is super close as well) so she really did like, know know people.
"You know it was your fault." responded her kind French inquisitor.
Needless to say, Emilie had not much more to say to that lady.
To be fair, one of her teacher's daughters, when emilie was recounting the tale, said she would've punched that girl in the face. And I in no way am generalizing all of France's baguette-carrying legions of being so rude... in fact, most of them are reassuringly curious, sympathetic, and eager for you to prove wrong their vast misconceptions about the average american.
Still, I got this lovely little drawing (above) done for me by what is admittedly my worst class (as far as attitude, though some are really sweet, its a pity they're in a class full of hooligans, really -- been there before).
When I told them that was a little inappropriate, they, being sassy adolescents (19 years old, does that count?) told me they thought it was beautiful.
What's up with this? This is not where the 9-11 insensitivity stories end (at least in the classroom), but really there shouldn't be a beginning! .
Should I play the Pearl Harbor card? Should I say, would france draw pictures of a couple hundred men entombed in a warship at the bottom of the pacific and tell me its beautiful? Isn't that creepy?
I do realize that Pearl Harbor led to the US joining in the WW2, not some strange "war" on something. This is not an anti-war post, I'm just acknowledging that ww2 does not equal iraq or whatever we're calling it.
Still, the tragic loss of average citizens (and military men and women) just the same is equal, regardless of time, place, context....right?
It's annoying.
Plus, most of america has moved on from 9-11, and is trying to make the world a better place (and succeeding) despite crazy wars that send our friends to sand dunes to play smear the queer with al-quaeda -- or however the heck you spell it.
9-11 is in the past, and that is a blessing - the future is brighter than how the tiny chunk of noisy and rude french, with existentialist malaise and heaven knows what kind of tabacco dependency running through their veins, see it.
Peace in the middle east,
Lori
Her first words, after my, "hellooooo?" were, "I just cried in front of 14 high schoolers."
Poor americans, we are so weepy. There's some email joke circulating (or that circulated) showing each county's reaction to Zidane's totallylame headbutt that lost France the world cup, and America's reaction is, of course, thinking its a terrorist threat or something -- I, being american and all, don't really understand.
Its a dillema really, b/c you don't want to be the weepy american who over-importance-izes 9-11, but still, a little bit of you is like, "ow?" I'd be happier if they made fun of New Orleans and all that crap that went down, frankly. (NOLA's going to be fine eventually, though, if you asked me...or these guys. will you buy a shirt already?)
My friend emillie was just hanging out in a bar in the countryside of western france when some girl asked her if she knew anyone who died in the twin towers.
"Yes." she responded. (in french, b/c she's a gangsta french speaka)
Emilie's from quite near new york (in more than just a geographical sense, though her hometown in CT is super close as well) so she really did like, know know people.
"You know it was your fault." responded her kind French inquisitor.
Needless to say, Emilie had not much more to say to that lady.
To be fair, one of her teacher's daughters, when emilie was recounting the tale, said she would've punched that girl in the face. And I in no way am generalizing all of France's baguette-carrying legions of being so rude... in fact, most of them are reassuringly curious, sympathetic, and eager for you to prove wrong their vast misconceptions about the average american.
Still, I got this lovely little drawing (above) done for me by what is admittedly my worst class (as far as attitude, though some are really sweet, its a pity they're in a class full of hooligans, really -- been there before).
When I told them that was a little inappropriate, they, being sassy adolescents (19 years old, does that count?) told me they thought it was beautiful.
What's up with this? This is not where the 9-11 insensitivity stories end (at least in the classroom), but really there shouldn't be a beginning! .
Should I play the Pearl Harbor card? Should I say, would france draw pictures of a couple hundred men entombed in a warship at the bottom of the pacific and tell me its beautiful? Isn't that creepy?
I do realize that Pearl Harbor led to the US joining in the WW2, not some strange "war" on something. This is not an anti-war post, I'm just acknowledging that ww2 does not equal iraq or whatever we're calling it.
Still, the tragic loss of average citizens (and military men and women) just the same is equal, regardless of time, place, context....right?
It's annoying.
Plus, most of america has moved on from 9-11, and is trying to make the world a better place (and succeeding) despite crazy wars that send our friends to sand dunes to play smear the queer with al-quaeda -- or however the heck you spell it.
9-11 is in the past, and that is a blessing - the future is brighter than how the tiny chunk of noisy and rude french, with existentialist malaise and heaven knows what kind of tabacco dependency running through their veins, see it.
Peace in the middle east,
Lori
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
First week booked, second week up in the air
Possibly literally with that up in the air business.
I'm going to party it up with blythe in Italy for the first week of vacation. I'm looking forward to it, and most of our flights and hostels are booked and I am no longer having stupid travel-planning malaise...what a silly sort of malaise!
The second weekend I was toying with the idea of going to seville to be a flamenco/sevillianas dancer for a week. I might just peace out to Scotland and Ireland and chill with my english speaking brethren/ancestry, as it seems I will be travelling all by my (not) lonesome.
I'll keep you posted! Blythe and I are gonna have a frickin awesome time, i can feel it. Also, I need to look and see what setting to use on my camera so that my pictures are more clear.
This blog has no purpose, I apologize.
In other news, I have a vacation coming up in April that I need to start planning for! march 31-april 16th or so. Also, Rebecca is coming to visit in May after I finish working to finish up the European touring. Should be fun to go home after that! Meredith graduates on the 27th, so I may be home for that in all reality, as I will surely be Europe'd out by then. The question remains: will meredith want to visit? will she book a flight? I cannot answer these questions myself. Hmmm.
I'm going to party it up with blythe in Italy for the first week of vacation. I'm looking forward to it, and most of our flights and hostels are booked and I am no longer having stupid travel-planning malaise...what a silly sort of malaise!
The second weekend I was toying with the idea of going to seville to be a flamenco/sevillianas dancer for a week. I might just peace out to Scotland and Ireland and chill with my english speaking brethren/ancestry, as it seems I will be travelling all by my (not) lonesome.
I'll keep you posted! Blythe and I are gonna have a frickin awesome time, i can feel it. Also, I need to look and see what setting to use on my camera so that my pictures are more clear.
This blog has no purpose, I apologize.
In other news, I have a vacation coming up in April that I need to start planning for! march 31-april 16th or so. Also, Rebecca is coming to visit in May after I finish working to finish up the European touring. Should be fun to go home after that! Meredith graduates on the 27th, so I may be home for that in all reality, as I will surely be Europe'd out by then. The question remains: will meredith want to visit? will she book a flight? I cannot answer these questions myself. Hmmm.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Travel weary
Mostly, I'm bummed b/c the Castle of Selvole is booked for the time Blythe and I will be in Tuscany. Sigh. Where else to find mom and pop goodness in Italy!?!
I am proud for having booked some flights, but I'm quite exhausted, and really lament not being able to do this internet thing late late at night, when I don't want to be doing things that young people want to do, like go have a cocktail (or 8).
I'm having a little of the travel burnout as the distance from home and that sort of thing becomes more obviously further...also I just got off of a 2 week train-travel binge about 4 days ago...planning all over again is sortof getting annoying! (I know I should not be saying that, b/c after all, I am in Europe, yo)
I am proud for having booked some flights, but I'm quite exhausted, and really lament not being able to do this internet thing late late at night, when I don't want to be doing things that young people want to do, like go have a cocktail (or 8).
I'm having a little of the travel burnout as the distance from home and that sort of thing becomes more obviously further...also I just got off of a 2 week train-travel binge about 4 days ago...planning all over again is sortof getting annoying! (I know I should not be saying that, b/c after all, I am in Europe, yo)
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
For those of you about to comment.
I salute you.
I know my blog just exploded with posts. Expect it to not be so manic in the future. Still, I wanted to shout out to my lovely commenting buddies! Its so fun to discover that someone commented on my blog. I know its just like 6 of us reading, but it's fun to see.
Props.
I know my blog just exploded with posts. Expect it to not be so manic in the future. Still, I wanted to shout out to my lovely commenting buddies! Its so fun to discover that someone commented on my blog. I know its just like 6 of us reading, but it's fun to see.
Props.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
I have blue suede shoes
They’re totally cool!!!!!
I still long for some kind of imitation of my brown ones...I wore them with everything! We’ll see how my AWESOME blue suede boots turn out though…blue suede goes with more things than you'd realize. I also have black boots that look just like my brown ones. I have a boot obsession.
I admit it, but boots are so good for modernizing my vintage dresses (98% of which are home in the STL, don’t sell’em mom!)
I still long for some kind of imitation of my brown ones...I wore them with everything! We’ll see how my AWESOME blue suede boots turn out though…blue suede goes with more things than you'd realize. I also have black boots that look just like my brown ones. I have a boot obsession.
I admit it, but boots are so good for modernizing my vintage dresses (98% of which are home in the STL, don’t sell’em mom!)
Cool Solution: I think I’ll go visit Blythe and get me some cool light brown vintage semi-cowboy boots in the ATX. If we get’em on the side of the road, that means the hipsters won’t have marked up the prices ridiculously. How’s July Blythe? Heat up the state for me. I want to try to cook an egg on the sidewalk.
Distance makes the heart grow weirder
Somewhat off the “hey I’m traveling and soametimes I do cool stuff” subject of the blog, but hey. I read this gal’s blog pretty religiously, (ever since I “randomly” stumbled upon it, I believe me and my laptop were at Kaldi’s, my StLwifi haven) and I gotta say I really like what she’s got going on. I also remember that I emailed her, and she responded nearly immediatly. Snaps! I especially like how her company, Citizen Agency, won’t take clients unless they have a higher purpose. Total duh, but daring!
She’s working in San Francisco (one of the the only big cities that doesn’t turn its residence into pod people…snaps), and there’s a lot of stuff going on there as far as like, start-ups, etc….but I want to work/help in St. Louis and the whole Mississippi valley, right? How does that translate? I’m sure I could figure it out, considering all this translating, in every sense, that I’m doing here in the Big E.
But will I be bored by
Not to mention, James Brown died! That’ll throw off anyone’s equilibrium. Total bummer, but he lasted pretty long considering he was like, always on drugs I think.
I want to be involved in my community here, but how?
I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I’d really like to get somehow involved in the community here, furthering the “don’t hate, participate” philosophy…just to keep me sane for the 4 months left here in Wineland. I think my community could really use some action, but it doesn’t look like it knows how to do it. I don't want to say that it doesn't have the mechanisms/mindset in place, so I’m going to ask Agnes when I have the energy.
I would also like to take flamenco dancin' lessons. One step at a time.
I would also like to take flamenco dancin' lessons. One step at a time.
Internet adventure – missed caroline, but my pictures are up
I am an internet nomad. I travel around Lyon with my laptop in search of Wifi.
I have my stand-bys….Fnac, The Black Lion…but I know there are more out there! I managed to find a totally cool wifi bar within MINUTES of arriving inZurich france
I didn't get to chill with Caro, which was a bummer, but I am Cinderella sometimes, and I have to leave before midnight.
I have my stand-bys….Fnac, The Black Lion…but I know there are more out there! I managed to find a totally cool wifi bar within MINUTES of arriving in
I didn't get to chill with Caro, which was a bummer, but I am Cinderella sometimes, and I have to leave before midnight.
I am awesome, and I got on the wrong train
Then I think, hmmm, this just doesn’t feel like platoform 16.
I get all my stuff down to get off the train to check when suddenly the train starts a’rollin’ about 20 minutes early, and I know I am on the wrong train. I get off at the next stop, see my train going to geneva-lyon in the window, and continue on back to the main Zurich to buy new tickets (only cost me 10 more swiss francs to change).
Train back to
A time for us – my love affair with Zurich
At the beginning of the day, I climbed the big protestant tower – really wasn’t that hard, and the view was groovy. Later on I went down to the sanctuary, and put on Aretha Franklin singing the Lord’s Prayer on my Ipod. Super geek alert, I know, but it was powerful!
Later on I strolled down the main shopping street, found a cute store, “En soie” – very cool silk stuff…real
I don’t know why fruity was my adjective of choice. I’m freestyling here. Anyway, I don’t want to hate on any bankers…bank away bankers! Your job would be very hard for me! So after my lovely stroll listening to the tune of swiss german all day, (like german, but with a Kermit the Frog accent…music to my ears! Sorta funny, too) I returned to my hostel, gathered my things and prepared to leave. Little did I know, I might’ve left my brain back at Wueste.
I wanna sleep so I can spend more time in Zurich!
Unfortunately, Z’s were hard to come by in the Hostel. I came in at midnight and I was the last one?!?! Hello, I was not out late. I woke up to Germans cussing American pop songs into their jukebox, (Alice, Alice Alice
So it was more funny than weird.
The pervasiveness of James Morrison
I heard him on Italian mtv, Italian H&M, rando jewelry store in Zurich
I’m a little suspicious of his not being conscious enough that his name is Jim Morrison (cello, the doors) to change it a bit, just out of respect. I do, however, hope he does not steal Marc Broussard’s thunder…b/c he is a british soul intruder!!!
Come on Marc! Release your new album!
You are the real thing, and I know it.
I’m a little suspicious of his not being conscious enough that his name is Jim Morrison (cello, the doors) to change it a bit, just out of respect. I do, however, hope he does not steal Marc Broussard’s thunder…b/c he is a british soul intruder!!!
Come on Marc! Release your new album!
You are the real thing, and I know it.
I resisted starbucks, and was rewarded -- generously
Please do note, I do not condone starbucks resistance usually, but I am going for a "wow, starbucks, taste of home" whenI return...also, if I drink starbucks, I fear I might book a flight back to the USA the next day...so I refrain....HOWEVER.. Due to resisting Starbucks (probably b/c I was following my destiny) I ventured into the frontier of Oldtown Zurich…and thus, I believe I found a bar in Zurich to match the classy and silly atmosphere found at everyone in the Lou’s favorite bar, The Royale (don’t pretend you don’t totally heart the Royale). It was called Wueste (www.wueste.ch), whatever that means, and they even brewed their own beer – and it was good. My goofy red Tyrolean hat fit right in. Snnnaps!
I heart you, Wueste. Will you be my friend?
* You know….I know what I want, and I want it now… I want you, ‘cause I’m Mr. Rain (?) I never understood that song. Is it Mr. Rain? Missarranged? I missed a ray? *
If you find yourself in Z-town, finde Wueste at Oberdorfstrasse 7 8007
It’s a hotel, too, if you’re a baller. Hotelotter.ch
You will be so not sorry it is ridiculous if you go there.
PS that night I also bought some awesome swiss flag tourist gear (I have a weakness for swiss flags…especially when I can wear them. Also, when they are waving from flagpoles on swiss farmhouses.)
PPS I also bought some blue suede shoes (boots to be exact). They should go very well with everything I own. Hello Elvis connection!
Swiss-tastic Phone booths in Switzerland
I found myself in a comic book as soon as I opened the phone booth and it started playing music. It was very star trek or something, but I got to chat with mom about various happenings in the StL as I stood under a lovely periwinkle light in a glass cylinder that looked sortof like an old school tylenol. I was prepared to be beamed up somewhere, but alas, Swiss technology has not gotten that far.
Or maybe I just didn’t press the right buttons.
Zurich is super cute
Leaving the train station is
Just so cute! It was authentically
And it’s protestant, I might add – not that I really really care, but its sorta neat to see a famous protestant church from old-school times for one. Zwigli, represent! I like how his statues always show him holding a Bible. Faith and faith alone, mofos! But I am sure he was not really the most fun guy ever, as most early protestantos were not.
Adventures in Interneting
At doris ’ there was really fast internet, and it was in a home. Something I have not experienced for about 4 months. Needless to say, magical. Thanks to the Violands for allowing me to use the computer – I hope I did not seem to be an internet creeper.
I saw something funny on the comedy central insider blog, so I decided to email this fella Chris Locke, who also happens to have been the author of the book I was then reading (and I finished the book and it was awesome). Chris Locke being pretty much asesome and all, emailed me back! Throuch him I discovered that The Daily Show is taking their videos off YouTube…not cool! Chris Locke however, cool. Sortof an amazing moment.
Also, I found a gal who has linked to testimo in her blog…she lived in LA and she loves her some Testimo, so of course I loves me some her. We emailed, etc… it should be a happy friendship…maybe she can give me some insight into the testimo-customer-mind, so that I can write better descrips, and possible blog better when the time comes for the TestimoBlog.
I also discovered on the internet… http://www.elfyourself.com, http://www.photojojo.com, and subway parties, and Mr. Nola dirtycoast.com guy who may or may not be sending me a t-shirt to the Sweetbriar homestead for that kooky little “C-ray” thing I have to the right.
Awesome!
The next day for lunch we had some “birds” – which were really like, beef wrapped around pork wrapped around a pickle = delish – and I peaced out to
Seriously, it was super precious, the swiss countryside, and I like it that it’s a mountain fortress. I liken it to the mountain fortress in the movie big, and I feel very safe there knowing that, in the event of an invasion,
Gemutlicheit, yo
We drove to
Austrians call Germans some ridiculously awesome nonsense word and it totally drives the Germans crazy b/c they’re always asking what it means, when in fact it means absolutely nothing, other than, you’re a german and I’m calling you a goofy name that is something like Piffkie.
Don’t call Germans this, word to the wise.
However, if you meet an Austrian, complain about piffkies and they will love you.
Also, apparently, if you tell Austrians you are from
Gemutlicheit! Look into it,
They even have a drinking song about Gemutlicheit.
I learned about this lovely word from Rick Steves of BackDoor Europe - he's my travel Guru.
Discover Austria by way of Bregenz – capitol of Vor al Berg-berg-berg
We hop on the train(s) from Innsbruck Austria
Though
Some of it was like that corn stuff (its like soft corn…my dad eats it and my mom hates it, and its like soft corn kernels) but with cool tyrol cheese and onions, and Pfiff – the regional beer. I had a lot of those, b/c I cannot say know to regional specialties, whatever they may be. The whole drinkin alcohol whenever you feel like it is pretty neat…I guess the beer brought out the flavor in the food, but I wondered if I was an alcoholic seeming friend – drinking a beer with every meal. But I don’t think so, b/c I was in
We also ate cool Weiners, that became “Berners” b/c we ate them with cheese.
Fascinating. We then went to explore Bregenz, where
I had weird volcaono dreams that night, along with some strange one featuring Jason Mraz, and airplane, pinching, and a middle aged lady with a Christmas sweater. Needless to say, the next day I was a little weirded out, especially with the whole, Saddam, Gerald, James Brown death triumvirate. We watched CNN b/c it was the only channel in English, and it ended up giving me the serious creeps, as I got worried that my cousins were in the middle of riots in
So what to do?
The Violands, being awesome parents, decided to ameliorate the situation. Sidenote: Mrs. Violand could very well be my mom with all her losing of her glasses, really loving her warm fireplace, and sleeping on couches (not to mention the black pants black turtleneck style she totally rocks…you are not alone, Mom/Johnny Cash!)
Austrian home movies on the old school movie projector. There was hiking, there was skiing, there was interesting Austrian Christmas, there was
I am from Austria---Innsbruck!
"I am from Austria" is a song about Austria, and how it was big, but now it's small, but that doesn't mean it isn't still big on the awesomeness. It’s all in “Austrian” except for the chorus, which is in English, according to Doris - cheekily - so that, “everyone will know"
...that I am from Austria.
...that I am from Austria.
New years eve in
We went to the main square to watch Fireworks, dance the waltz, and to trade hats. (that last one’s not a tradition, but I think it should be!)
My chapeau, Herman the Red Tyrolean Hat (a purchase I had to make earlier that day) made lots of friends, and really suited everyone he found! We then went to a bar, and some Austrian guy tried to make out with me -- realizing/not realizing that I don’t speak ANY GERMAN AT ALL…I guess that’s sexy, the whole insta-dumb illiterate thing – anyway, I was like, eh, peace out. Though he did buy me a beer, and try to talk to me. Luckily, my Austrian buddies told him I was awesomely American, and didn’t understand anything he said. Plus, I barely drank that beer, it was like 2am on new years…I had had enough, and I needed to dance it off (and I did)!
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