Good local dishes as well, hurrah!
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!
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