Showing posts with label nothing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nothing. Show all posts

Yes, it's another cat video



Sorry I've been such a neglectful blogger lately. Life is just moving too fast these days.

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Happy Sunday!


PS: Yes, I know the Disney frames were recolored to match the Royal Wedding kill joys. ;)

Via Meg Fee.

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Bad Boy Gauguin

Quelle shock!

Paul Gauguin was a dreadful man who made some beautiful art. That’s the present take on him. In his craving for fame and fulfillment he dumped his family, bullied his friends, ripped off ideas and lied about his past. His book “Noa Noa,” which he advertised as an account of his life in Tahiti, was largely fantasy, mostly plagiarized.”



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Three Little Birds



I am not a reggae fan but this song has been with me all week. Though I probably hadn't heard it in months, maybe years since looking for it on Youtube today, it is the first thing that pops into my head when I wake up in the morning lately. Bob Marley, what are you doing in my head?

On a related note, the day before yesterday a bird took a crap on my face. We were walking down the street in Cha-am around noon and out of nowhere I had oozing green warm splatter running down the side of my head. Luckily the little bugger missed my hair. Anyhow, according to my Twitter buddies, somehow a bird crapping on your face is meant to foretell good luck.

Three little birds + bird crap + Twitter = obviously a good omen? Yes, I realize the connection is tenuous and none of it really 'means' anything, but I'm prepared to suspend my disbelief for awhile and believe the ghost of Marley knows a little something that I'm not privy to yet.

And yes. I know that makes me a little crazy. Chalk it up to mild sun stroke.

Also. Tomorrow is our last day in Cha-am. On Tuesday morning we are catching a bus at some ungodly hour of the morning to take us north to Chiang Mai. I've enjoyed the mellow vibe by the sea, but I'm ready to move on to somewhere with amenities and hopefully a swimming pool because I'm afraid of jelly fish.

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La Mer



I've had a strange few weeks. I've jumped time zones as though the act of leaping across continents was as simple as a game of hop scotch. I've seen wonderful things and met people who are kind and inspiring. And in recent days I've also found my way back to the sea.

We are currently in Cha-am, Thailand, a little holiday place filled with mostly young Thai families who have come here to get out of the city and old Scandinavian people, many of whom probably spend months of their year here (at least it would appear so given the orange brown tint and leathery texture of their skin). It's not as pristine as the island resorts further south with their aqua marine water but it is relaxed and the sun shines and the people are mostly friendly. I've been interspersing sleeping and reading with trips down to play in the sea shore (which is right across the street from our guest house, we have a sea view). The water here isn't quite as warm as it was in Mexico, but it's pretty close. Over the past few days it's been a bit windy and we've spent our time jumping over waves, gasping and sputtering as we climb out with salty lips and tangled hair.

We're not sure how long we're going to stay down here. Tomorrow morning we're looking at a little condo that's available - slightly over our budget but we're desperate to settle down in a place with a kitchen and some privacy. Neither of us have felt like we've really been anywhere long enough to unpack since Laos. I would love to not have to eat out for the next week and there's a Tesco Lotus in a nearby town where we can stock up on everything we want. Dan even found Branston Pickle today, albeit for more than we would pay for it in the UK.

The alternative to staying here for another week is heading North to Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, which both sound like lovely, easy places but with no sea. I imagine them to be a more modern version of Laos.

I arrived in Bangkok only a few days ago after my 48 hour jaunt to California. My interview was such a good experience and everyone was so genuinely kind and clever. If the Visa gods smile down on me, I would be a fool to not seize the opportunity to do such interesting work at such a great company. Time will tell.

The above picture of me was taken by Dan when we were in Versailles, France in February 2009. I stumbled upon it in an old folder today and couldn't help but look at that girl and wonder a bit who she was. When I was in Vancouver this past summer, I read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking and as I reflect back on this year of flux, reinvention, growth and change, I can't help but feel like I've been afforded this wonderful slot of time in which I've been able to re-imagine my life, my professional practice, my passions, my art. And although I didn't have to suffer the kind of horrible loss that sparked Didion's year of magical thinking, the experience of travel is also one of always leaving something behind: a shoe, a book, an elastic band ... and along with these things, the sadness inherent in the realization that nothing will ever be exactly the same again. Laos will never feel like it did those few beautiful weeks in December, just like Versailles will never be the same crisp, colorful place it was during that beautiful and delicate weekend in February 2009 - and I'll never be the same either.

I used to cry about this on birthdays when I was a kid. I would have a wonderful day and then get into bed and sob for the year that was gone and that would never be again. And my god, when they play that horrible Auld Lang Sine song at New Years it slays me; and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Judy Garland. All songs about time and loss woven into our precious celebratory moments to remind us that the time is slipping by far more quickly than we can possible realize.

But the sea feels constant and restorative and the daily act of allowing it to toss us around makes waiting for the next change much, much easier. It's like an hour glass, slowly washing everything clean.

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Untitled


Image by Anthony Burrill, via Gala Darling.

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Canary



My father gave me a canary and a revolving globe ... I used to open the cage and let the canary go free. It developed the habit of sitting at the very top of the globe and singing for hours. For years, as I wandered insatiably over the earth, greeting and taking leave of everything, I felt that the top of my head was the globe and a canary sat perched on the top of my mind, singing.

- Kazantzakis



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One Night in Mexico




Last night in the dark of 10 pm, we were walking home from dinner and drinks down the dirt road behind our flat. A car goes by and we see a dog in the headlights. We assume it's one of the dogs that lives at the complex and keep going.

As we pass him (her?) in the dark, I offer it some bacon, which I've saved from dinner to feed to the stray cat that has adopted us. Dan shines the flash light at the dog and, well, it's actually a coyote.

But it didn't eat us. Or the bacon.

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Breaking News - Fringe Election Results

Thanks to those of you who responded to the all important fringe or no fringe referendum. The results showed a strong majority in favour of the no fringe option. No coalition is necessary, which is lucky because I don't know how that would work.
  • Yes, keep the fringe: 36%
  • No, fringes are soooo 2009: 60%
  • Who the eff cares? 4%
Okay, I'm off to invest in more hair grips. 

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To Fringe or Not to Fringe

Dear Internet,

I have a very important question for you: fringe or no fringe? On one hand, the fringe is kind of cute, but it is high maintenance and while traveling this next year I do not intend to blow dry it down every morning. Then again, growing out a fringe is a massive pain in the ass...

Oh, and please disregard the pissy expression in my no fringe photo! You can vote here.



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Ten Things Meme

From LA at Freckled Nest... 

1. Favorite hobby?

2. Favorite tv show?
Warning - spoilers and much sadness below!



3. Favorite restaurant food? 


4. Favorite thing to shop for?
Dresses - not Blythe dolls. 
Image by Ro/Wererabbit

5. Favorite animal?
Image from Ffffound

6. Favorite song?


7. Favorite word?
Memory. 


8. Recent favorite youtube video?



9. Favorite movie?



10. Favorite childhood memory?
Being at the beach.


Ok, now you do it (Friday, Carrie, Brette, Claire, Rhiannon and Michelle I'm looking at you...) and put the URL of the post in the comments so I can read it.

All unattributed photographs above were taken by me.

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Less Than Two Weeks Left...


"She was woozy and heart-swollen in the downtown, wandering wet streets that gleamed as you would have them gleam in the sweet summer film of your life."

From Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower

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This May Be the Best Video Ever



Via Cute Overload.

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Sylvia Plath at her Typewriter



Happy New Year mittens! I'm thinking it will be a good one. x

Image from Hilobrow.

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Dancing Robot



Just because.

Image found via the lovely Souvenirs.

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Do We Really Need This?



I love the Sex and the City television series but, let's face it, the movie was shit. The sequel to the movie will be even worse. They are going back to the 80s for Christ sakes!

Is anyone actually into this?

Image from The Frisky.


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Quick Hello

Hello!

I've been a bit absent here because the world is spinning out of control (in a good way) and I can't believe it is autumn. I have this whole list of things I want to tell you (like the story of how I got seasick in the middle of the lovely Monterrey Bay and attracted two grey hump backs and an entire pod of killer whales) but instead, I'll leave you with this:



Does the look on Obama's face not say everything we need to know about the crooked, cheating Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi? Love it.

(Found via Dan. Image from It's Nice That)

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I Like Obama BUT...

This dress (worn by actress Victoria Rowell at the Emmy's over the weekend) is whack.



Found via the hilarious bitches at Go Fug Yourself.

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Lovely New Coffee Table


After searching the furniture shops of London high and low, we found a lovely, lovely coffee table in Heal's but alas, it was slightly (quite a bit, eek!) out of our budget. We didn't want to go the cheap IKEA route because we spend most of our time in our little living room. The flat is open plan so the kitchen is right off the living room and so are the patio doors leading to the garden so unless sleeping or bathing we are pretty much always there.

Our flat came partially furnished but there are still bits and pieces we've had to purchase. Other than the bed, the coffee table was probably the most important piece because, even though we do plan to buy a small dining room table and a little desk, it is likely where we'll do most of our eating and living.

We've also got a really clean, white aesthetic thing going on (Dan is design obsessed) and a standard wooden table would have looked heavy and out of place. Luckily we are crafty and once we got home, we found the exact same table online for almost half price, including delivery. It should be with us in 10 to 20 days. Yay!

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Bread, According to Julia Child



I am nearly through the Julie Child autobiography My Life in France and I can't help but think that she was a little nuts. Despite that she says she's writing for the average North America home cook, some of her recipes are insanely complicated and difficult, such as this one for bread:
Transform a home oven into a simulated baker's oven, with a hot surface for the bread to bake on, and some kind of simple but effective steam-generating contraption. These elements are necessary for one to get just the right rise and just the crisp crust of true French bread. Eventually Paul's Yankee ingenuity solved the first problem, when he slid a tile made of asbestos cement onto the oven rack to heat up with the oven: a perfect, affordable baking surface. But creating the all-important burst of steam, which forms the crust, was more difficult. Eventually we discovered that, by placing a pan of cold water in the bottom of the oven, and dropping a very hot brick (or stone or metal ax-head) into it, one could produce the perfect steam-puff. Eh voila! We had created the first successful recipe ever for making French bread ... in a home oven. What a triumph!
Right. I'll get right on it.

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