Travel Triptych I

2008 has been a year of travel firsts. Lest I forget how fortunate I was to take some tremendous trips c/o my truly wonderful and generous friends, I'm going to do a wee post on each one. Ok, I'd never forget, but I'm still doing the posts.

First up... to escape Chicago's brutal January I was treated to a long weekend in Mexico! About 20 minutes outside Playa del Carmen (thankyouthankyouthankyou to D). Before our trip I would have been an all-inclusive naysayer (where's the make-your-own-adventure?), but now I'm a bonafide YAYsayer. Adventure starts to look a little overrated when you suddenly feel pure relaxation flowing through your veins for the first time since joining the ranks.

The r&r never stopped... waking with the sun, oceanfront massages, Russian card games, jailbreaks, exotic birds, people watching, boat rides, ocean swims, snorkeling, poolbars, patios, teqEEla, bottomless booze, and all-you-can-eat pico de gallo AND guac! All without your wallet?

Sold! (to the pasty girl in the black mumu)

Myth Debunked: You can't drink the water. Not true, IF you're at an all-inclusive (three-cheers for the all-inclusive!)

Offensive Generalization: Mexican men are short.

Earworm du Jour

Earworms and Humbugs. I’m very susceptible. According to Wiki, earworms are “a portion of a song or other musical material that become ‘stuck’ in a person's ‘head’ or repeats against one's will within one's mind.” I hereby diagnose myself with earworm infestation. It’s insidious! Where are my meds?

This morning while awaiting my calorie, I mean caramel, latte at Lavazza this little ditty came on, and I’ve been hum(bugg)ing it ever since. Please pardon the dumb video, and trust that it’s the least hideous one I could find. I love the vocals of the song. It’s darn catchy. If anyone could have named the band, I would have given you a gold star to stick on your butt, because it’s none other than the Spiral Starecases (sic!). Who? Ezactly. One of them thar one hit wonders. And lord if it isn’t a wonder how it’s gotten stuck in my noodle. Wiki says that "earworms may be songs or tunes that become stuck in the phonological loop.” Loop. Spiral. Coincidence? I think not.

This song brings me way back to those early morning drives to swim practice in the Aerostar tank. Mom, blasting the oldies, shakin' her shoulders happily to the tunes, and pumping the heat. Me, nauseated from said heat pumping and dreading Coach Thompson’s killer set of the day. Good times. Even then I was a real bear in the morning, so mom’s bubbly sing-alongs (pretending to know the lyrics by yelling one word at the end of each sentence) prompted persnickety commentary from the peanut gallery. Mom communicated her displeasure by smacking me on the knee with the plastic brush that lay conveniently in the console between us. Then I’d cry child abuse, and we’d both fall silent (probably laughing on the inside). That brush: primping tool or thinly veiled threat? We’ll never know.

Bless my mum for doing things like driving us to practice at 4 in the morning whilst putting up with a whole lotta crap and ‘tude. I’ll never know how she did it. In fact, I shall dedicate this little song to my mum.

Omniterrum

Background of the Week

More birds.

Since I didn't move quickly enough today at 20x200 to make one of these my own for a mere $20 (blasted), I'll have to settle for making it my new background. It's called "A Dream World Glimmers in the Background of the Soul," by Carrie Marill.

Porkchops & Applesauce

Background of the Week

"I think, therefore, I am. I think."

I was sad to learn that one of the cleverest wordly-wise smartasses both sides the Mississippi kicked the bucket yesterday (I merely channel him with my levity).

In this gem, he makes a case for child neglect and makes you laugh too. That's gifted.

Candor

If you're unfamiliar with Lara Logan (I was), check out this clip of her visit to The Daily Show, and try not to get curious. And if your curiosity should lead you (like it did me) to google and youtube, try not to be inspired. This one's got cojones.

Desktop Découpage

I've been told more than once that I lay claim to the most aesthetically pleasing office in the the workplace. Although the competition is abysmal, and the title of "best decorator" makes me no less dispensable an employee, I have to admit to taking a little pride in it. It's not that I'm trying to impress anyone (other than myself). I just don't comprehend how people manage to ignore their surroundings, or how they don't care in the first place.


Which brings me to la pointe de le post. One of the little things I do to instill a modicum of visual variety is switch up the background on my desktop. I know, it's a tiny not-so-novel idea, but I look at that screen for ungodly amounts of time, and hell if I'm going to stare at the same thing day in and day out. Plus, it gives me a place to appreciate those random images I come across that would otherwise go forgotten.


I find most of my inspiration at ffffound, a stockpile of seemingly infinite images. If scrolling didn't bring on a nasty case of motion sickness (cursed be my sensitive equilibrium!) I could peruse the site for hours. I wouldn't put this particular image on my desktop, but I'm a sucker for words, collage, vintage, and the French language, so I really dig it.


Beware, some of the images are NSFW, but if you're in need of iCookies, it's like an online museum of contemporary art with no direction. Whatever speaks to me on a given day or week will get saved, sometimes cropped and then "set as desktop background." Then I tile or stretch it depending on what looks best, and there it stays until I'm bored of it and want something new.


A wee cure for the desktop doldrums....

Forgetting Forgiving & Forgetting

Forgive & Forget.

Sophie's Choices

Here's a new something I'm going to try to do once a week. Too ambitious? Ok, once a month. If... I’m really good. I plan to mention a book, movie, album, band, song, etc. that's somehow stuck with me. Although I’m no high critic of any of the aforementioned, I’m quite the avid consumer, so there you have it. The title happens to be an homage to both my pseudonym (or nom de plume, if I will, a story for another day), and a favorite movie that first introduced me to the disarming talent of Meryl Streep. Come on, who else could pull off “a dingo took my baby?” Now on to the choices of the hour….

The man, the musician, the Ukrainian legend-- Eugene Hutz. Not one to be pigeonholed, he’s in both a band AND movies, and he has even inspired characters for movies that he’s not in at all (Wristcutters, a love story). He heads the “gypsy punk revolution” in the form of Gogol Bordello, and, though I haven’t had the chance to get familiar with many of their recordings, their live show is first fucking rate. There’s so much iCake to behold -- the main man burning more calories during his performance than I do in a month (sad but true); a Russian violinist who hasn’t let a head of white hair stop him; a fellow who probably went to your high school and looks like he crashed the show but actually does back-up vocals and percussion; and, if you’re a girl (and maybe even if you’re not), you can’t tell me you don’t leave the show desperately wishing you were one of the cool gypsy chicks who alternate between banging giant drums and shaking their skinny asses on stage. It was a blast, I even bought a t-shirt. And I hereby challenge you to find someone remotely interesting who doesn’t love their backdrop: “Think Locally. Fuck Globally.” How they speak to me so.... Is that wrong?

Stew in that while you watch the video for "Start Wearing Purple."

But wait, the man’s genius doesn’t stop there! No sir, he’s also the shining light in a movie called Everything is Illuminated, this post’s second honorable mention. The story is born out of historic tragedy, someone dies, and Elijah Wood’s cartoonish character occasionally plucks at my nerves. Even so, I absolutely love this movie. It’s worth seeing for Eugene Hutz’s hilarity alone, but the well-balanced injections of hope and humor are heartfelt and totally relatable. And who couldn't love an "officious seeing eye bitch" named Sammy Davis Jr. Jr? In fact, the image for my next post (currently cookin') comes from a scene in the movie. For me, the image represents the moment you finally find something you were looking for when you didn’t know exactly what it was or how to get there. And yet. There it is. And it's beautiful.

If you are fortunate enough to know what it is you're looking for, and it just.so.happens. to be the gypsy punk revolution and/or a silly yet serious and surprisingly great movie, look no further.

numnuts

I'm posting this vid in honor of the warm spot I keep in my heart for the spelling bee. This kid was not only comedian of the night, he also eventually went on to take the cake. Way to keep your cool, cucumber.