music for your Monday

some new Vampire Weekend over on La Blogotheque!



It's ridiculous how much I wish I had been in that room.

So. Badly.

I think it's quite obvious that I love them.

wan•der•lust

–noun
a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.

If this were a disease then I would definitely fit the symptoms.

Lately, all I can think about is exploring this amazing world. I sit in Borders for hours looking at travel books, I've ordered books from Amazon and impatiently waited for their arrival in the mail. My bookshelves are out of space. But the curiosity is still aplenty.

This afternoon I was thinking about my first trip on my own. I was eighteen, and I was to start at the local community college in a week. One night at work I got the idea to fly over to North Carolina to visit my cousin Katie, who had just moved there eight months before. So I went home, purchased my ticket, and two days later I was off. I loved the thrill of traveling by myself. Although it was a little scary, I always met someone at just the right time who helped me to find my way.

I remember stepping out on the tarmac at JFK, climbing up the stairs onto the plane, feeling like a celebrity boarding her private jet. Only it wasn't so private. I sat between a man named Steve and an environmental conservationist. Interesting how I remember those little details but fail to remember many other moments once I reached my destination.

I'll never forget the flight home, either. I sat in the very last row of the plane, between a very large man and a marine. The marine. Was. Hilarious. I'll never have a better flight partner. I remember how I had to run to catch that connecting flight, made it just in time, and right before takeoff there was a medical emergency so we sat in the plane for two hours before even taking off. When the stewardess began her speal about safety, I turned to the marine and quietly asked him if he had ever watched Tommy Boy.

To which he replied with a complete (and loud) re-enactment of the scene where Chris Farley is being suffocated by the life vest.

Like I said, the man was hilarious. Seemed like everyone in the plane turned around to gawk.

My next trip alone was again to visit Katie, who, a year and half later, was now living in Okinawa, Japan. The people on the long flight were not near as friendly or entertaining, behind me was a little man who liked to stick his foot in between my chair and the window, I woke up several times to find I had fallen asleep on it. There was also a little boy who enjoyed singing some song from the movie Madagascar. Cute the first fifteen times.

I had a layover in Taipai, and then, surprisingly, found myself in first class on the hour long flight over to Okinawa. Nice, right? Then I hit customs. And could not understand a word that was spoken to me. I think I left a lot of Japanese airport security very annoyed.

Anyways, all this reminiscing to say, that both of these times, I traveled alone. But I always met someone at my destination. I suppose what scares me is that if I step out and travel this year, not only will I be alone in my travels, but I'll also be alone when I arrive at my destination. There will be no one to greet me and gently usher me into new territory. There will be no one to keep me company as I discover new corners and cultures.

Scary.

I know I can do it. It's just getting to the doing it that scares me.

Perhaps Katie's husband, Kevin, should rejoin the army so they would get stationed somewhere new for me to visit.

Naw, bad idea.

I'll just have to strike out on my own and hope I make it.




Okinawa. It seemed like everywhere we went, Audrey, my cousin's daughter, drew attention because of her blond hair.


Audrey ducking out of the photo just in time.


A very matching family.


Quite possibly one of my all time favorites. It sparked my love of travel photography. These photos were taken with my Canon AE-1, before I was introduced to digital beyond a point and shoot.


Sorry for all the travel posts. If it's driving you crazy you'll probably be happy to know it's driving me crazy too.

sidewalk love notes

During my semester in Paris, one day I took a new route home and noticed this little love note painted on the sidewalk of my street. For the next few months, I found more, walking to the post office, in a parking lot, on the way to the park.

love me
hug me
adore me

On and on they went.
Simple demands of the heart.

I loved finding them, and always wondered who those little love notes were for.

And yes, there's a good chance that I secretly wished they were meant for me.

so apparently

it's been exactly two years since I landed in Paris. At least that's what my friends who also studied abroad there keep telling me on facebook. Which means it's been two years since the start of the best three months of my life (so far). Honestly, I had forgotten it was today.

So to honor that monumental day, two years ago, sitting on the plane thinking what did I get myself into, here's a few photos that show that it was worth it.

Warning: I say "few" very loosely. I started looking through these photos and got a little carried away!


The first photo I took. Near the Champs Elysees.


I loved all the street markets. And nothing beats fresh flowers.


Marais.


Waiting in line for the top floor of the Eiffel Tower.


Pretty incredible what a lot of time and patience will get you.


Montmarte.




Window display and street refection off the Champs Elysees.


View from the top.


My roommate and greatest friend of the trip, Kelsey. And I. Lost in the early hours of morning near the Louvre.




Paris in springtime. Pretty lovely.


Amazing transportation system, including these bikes you can rent all over the city.




Bicycles in front of Notre Dame.


Brandon decided to join us on the left. And then there's Sam-and-or-antha, moi, Sophie/Quasi, Kels, and Karissa. My partners in crime.



Je t'aime Paris,
vous avez saisi mon coeur et ne laisserez pas aller.

walk it off

when I was a little girl, I had to wear an eye patch, pirate style.

Thanks to a little thing called strabismus, I had (and still have) a lazy eye. Don't worry, I don't walk the streets looking like a crazy, thankfully contacts and glasses set my eye straight. When I was younger, I would wear an eye patch over my strong eye to strengthen the weak one.

And I hated it. When I was really little, the eye patches were pretty much big sticky band-aids, which hurt like a mother to take off. And then later, there were these neat felt ones that slid over my glasses (making it easy to cheat). Because the big sticky ones were so awful, my mom made a calendar, put it on the fridge, and every day that I wore my eye patch she would place a sticker on the calendar. When the calendar was full, she'd take me out for a prize, like a Barbie. It worked. Like a charm.

Fast forward almost twenty years later. For years my mom has been complaining about weighing more than she'd like. But she never does anything about it. She doesn't like to buy new clothes, because hopefully one day soon she'll magically shrink and then they wouldn't fit. A few years ago she and my dad bought a treadmill. That I've used more than her. Problem is, I've probably only used it ten or so times.

I've begun to realize how much my mother and I are alike. We need that push from someone else, and, I just realized, we're not self starters. Bummer.

I guess this means I need to be the one that pushes this time. So yesterday, I made a calendar. Put in on the fridge. Got some cool stickers.

And this morning (because she kept putting me off yesterday) we got up (way earlier than I'd like) and went for a walk.

A forty minute walk. The compromise we made because she didn't do the twenty minute walk yesterday.

I hope my mom will keep with it so she can get her barbie.

in the spirit of February...

Okay, so maybe it's a hospital commercial about heart disease, but it's lovely all the same.

music for your Monday

So I'm sure you've all seen this because of it's awesome-ness.

Which is why I've never posted it before. But this morning I was in the mood to watch and listen to it for probably, umm, the hundredth time, so I figured you might want to join me in celebrating the wonderful outcome of what was probably a very long day.

Yeah? Okay, good.



Hurray for stop-motion and good music combined!

P.S. This weekend I discovered that I've been spelling hurray wrong for as long as I could miss-spell it. Apparently hooray isn't right. I think I prefer hooray anyways. Or perhaps I will begin to say hurrah! Maybe, even, huzzah! Much more climactic.

Alright. I'm done.

oh goodness

expectations.

They're terrible.

Have you noticed that when you have expectations you will almost always be let down?

I suppose that's why I don't expect much of others or from experiences. Because when you don't expect much, things always go great. When you don't expect much, you appreciate what you get. When you don't expect much, it's hard to get angry over little things, that in the broad scheme of life, matter very little.

All I'm saying, people, is to expect less and enjoy more.

spunk

Last summer my mom came home from a garage sale with a huge box full of old photographs. And of course I permanently borrowed some.

When I look at these,
I wonder who they were.
What was their story?

I suppose I'll never know their reality. But it's fun dreaming them up.

Like this girl?
In my imagination, she's full of spunk. The slightly quirky girl that everyone adores and wishes they could be.


And these girls?
Fifty years later they still get together every Wednesday to gossip.


This woman has traveled the world. But nothing makes her feel quite as good as coming home to her cactus garden.

music for your Monday

Beautiful music, right?

This is Andrew Bird, who I'm new to, and then, if you have a longer attention span than I or time to kill, you'll see a bit of St. Vincent!

I'd say that's a pretty sweet deal.

Pom Pom Paige

This afternoon my family had a little get together to celebrate January birthdays, but I only managed to snag about twelve or fourteen shots. These are of my cousin Holly's little girl Paige, who just turned two. She had fun playing with my old dress up things, and carried these pom poms around the farm.

resonate

are there ever any quotes that just really resonate with you?

Here's one that's been getting at me lately-





This is my only self portrait from my Europe experience in 2008. Some of my happiest memories. Looking at this photo almost two years later, I hardly notice the disgusting blanket, my fuller cheeks, or my bad Italian haircut. What I see now is contentment.

Because I threw off the bowlines.

I long to feel that once again. The rush of stepping outside my comforts and fully embracing life. Which means I have some changes to make.

Glad we had this chat.