Or pictures. Just as good.
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=u54fr1b.4dmbexqf&x=1&y=-cbmw6h
= :)
May 29, 2006
May 24, 2006
Spoon-tastic
Went to go see Spoon on Tuesday at my last-ever gig at Koko. (Or, as Nic reminded me, my last gig at Koko for a while.) Every time I see Spoon, I remember the time they opened for Cake and the marquee outside the theater read simply, "Cake with Spoon." Fabulous. Spoon was fantastic as usual but the New Pornographers were a huge disapointment, as was the dull, generally unresponsive audience of largely 30- to 40-somethings. Weird.
Anyone have any recommendations of gigs to go to this summer? (In the US, after July 10th.)
= :)
Anyone have any recommendations of gigs to go to this summer? (In the US, after July 10th.)
= :)
May 18, 2006
Amsterdam.....um...I've got nothing
Last bit...
We headed over to the Anne Frank museum, which was incredibly surreal. It was in the actual house they hid in during the war, and Anne's bedroom even still had scraps of the movie posters she had pasted to the walls. It was so strange - one of my favorite books had suddenly come to life. I guess it made it all the more real because you feel like you know Anne Frank after reading the diary. I highly recommend it. Then, for dinner, I tried Indonesian for the first time and loved it. We got this fantastic little sampler plate and tried about every dish the restaurant had. We stayed there till closing, after all the other patrons left, and strolled back along the lit canals to our hotel. Did I mention I love this place?
The next morning, we sadly went to return our bikes, after we had finally mastered the locks. After that, we went to this great flea market, where I got shirts for 3 euro, a necklace for 1, and found out where all those little brightly colored plastic rings that you'd stick your overlong t-shirt through in the 90s had gone. Some guy had a whole box of those - that's where they were when I desperately wanted one! (Many, many years ago, for the record.)
We tried to find the same cafe we had coffee at the day before, but couldn't find it anywhere. It was like it had vanished in thin air. Melinda and I headed in opposite directions to get some lunch, but then bizzarely ended up at the same cafe - the cafe from the day before. Hmmm... After a delcious meal, we picked up some of the best chocolate cake ever, and I took a walk through the city. I know what you're thinking about the cake, but no, that was actually the brownie we had later.
One happy trip to the airport later, we had our Amsterdam buzz killed by some scary Dutch soldier with an automatic rifle herding us into the right part of the airport. I thought they had no guns in Europe? (not true, actually saw a regular police officer toting one of the same in Regent's Park for no apparent reason. Scary.) After contemplating getting some cheese in the duty-free shop, and amusing ourselves by listening to the announcements, which seemed to exist solely to shame passengers into making their planes ("Would John Smith head to gate 11? The flight is waiting for you. Way to make them late, asshole."), we boarded our flight back to London. Sigh. I'll always remember you, Amsterdam. And I'll definitely be back.
= :)
We headed over to the Anne Frank museum, which was incredibly surreal. It was in the actual house they hid in during the war, and Anne's bedroom even still had scraps of the movie posters she had pasted to the walls. It was so strange - one of my favorite books had suddenly come to life. I guess it made it all the more real because you feel like you know Anne Frank after reading the diary. I highly recommend it. Then, for dinner, I tried Indonesian for the first time and loved it. We got this fantastic little sampler plate and tried about every dish the restaurant had. We stayed there till closing, after all the other patrons left, and strolled back along the lit canals to our hotel. Did I mention I love this place?
The next morning, we sadly went to return our bikes, after we had finally mastered the locks. After that, we went to this great flea market, where I got shirts for 3 euro, a necklace for 1, and found out where all those little brightly colored plastic rings that you'd stick your overlong t-shirt through in the 90s had gone. Some guy had a whole box of those - that's where they were when I desperately wanted one! (Many, many years ago, for the record.)
We tried to find the same cafe we had coffee at the day before, but couldn't find it anywhere. It was like it had vanished in thin air. Melinda and I headed in opposite directions to get some lunch, but then bizzarely ended up at the same cafe - the cafe from the day before. Hmmm... After a delcious meal, we picked up some of the best chocolate cake ever, and I took a walk through the city. I know what you're thinking about the cake, but no, that was actually the brownie we had later.
One happy trip to the airport later, we had our Amsterdam buzz killed by some scary Dutch soldier with an automatic rifle herding us into the right part of the airport. I thought they had no guns in Europe? (not true, actually saw a regular police officer toting one of the same in Regent's Park for no apparent reason. Scary.) After contemplating getting some cheese in the duty-free shop, and amusing ourselves by listening to the announcements, which seemed to exist solely to shame passengers into making their planes ("Would John Smith head to gate 11? The flight is waiting for you. Way to make them late, asshole."), we boarded our flight back to London. Sigh. I'll always remember you, Amsterdam. And I'll definitely be back.
= :)
May 17, 2006
Amsterdam-a-ding-dong
More!
That night, we headed off to the center of the city for a walk in the red light district. How strange. It was like some kind of Disney for prostitutes. They were all standing in little glass doorways lit up with red on these narrow little alleys, but instead of a seedy clientele wandering around, there were normal tourists. Middle-aged couples strolling arm in arm. Chinese businessmen lined up for the sex shows. Families (!) laughing and gaping at the open windows. It was so weird - it was a bunch of prostitutes, but it was all de-fanged. Some were posing their hardest, but others talked on their mobiles or just looked bored. I wonder if they have enough customers for all those prostitutes - we only saw spectators like us.
Then off to the center of town, where they had a carnival with skeeball! Madness...turns out that Malinda and I both love it, so we played long enough to get sex-themed playing cards for Malinda's housemates. Male AND female, just to be balanced.
The next morning was Sunday, so it was really nice and quiet. After sleeping in, we found a great cafe on the canal, where we got some coffee. And then we did what every proper Amsterdam(er?)(ian?) should - we rented bikes! The place is full of cyclists, from people riding side by side and holding hands, mothers with giant kid-boxes on the front of their bikes, and girls riding sidesaddle on the back of their date's bike. The place is so ridiculously quaint it hurts. Bikes made us feel like such locals, and it was great to sail around the city.
We stopped for lunch and had some fab brie and goat's cheese sandwiches. Next to us at the cafe were old and loud American tourists from (where else?) New Jersey. They seemed to like Malinda, but I distanced myself as much from them as possible. They were loud and annoying. Eek, Americans abroad. I get to be such a self-hating American when I travel. I try to blend in as much as possible because the American accent sounds so grating. Oh, well.
We hopped back on our bikes and went to a pancake place up a steep flight of stairs. (Let me just say that Let's Go was my savior on this trip. Nothing it recommended was bad. Good for you, Let's Go. You've officially made up for Spain.) We had the best pancakes ever (more like a crepe - mine had chocolate and coconut) and made friends with the chef, who gave us his philiosphy on life (and a very Amsterdam-like one), which apparently roughly translates as "Don't worry about other people's books" (ok, really roughly), and means that you shouldn't worry about what other people are doing. Mind your own business, basically. That's probably what makes Amsterdam such a tolerant and laid-back city (well, that and all the pot). No one looks at you funny, no one judges. I love this place.
= :)
That night, we headed off to the center of the city for a walk in the red light district. How strange. It was like some kind of Disney for prostitutes. They were all standing in little glass doorways lit up with red on these narrow little alleys, but instead of a seedy clientele wandering around, there were normal tourists. Middle-aged couples strolling arm in arm. Chinese businessmen lined up for the sex shows. Families (!) laughing and gaping at the open windows. It was so weird - it was a bunch of prostitutes, but it was all de-fanged. Some were posing their hardest, but others talked on their mobiles or just looked bored. I wonder if they have enough customers for all those prostitutes - we only saw spectators like us.
Then off to the center of town, where they had a carnival with skeeball! Madness...turns out that Malinda and I both love it, so we played long enough to get sex-themed playing cards for Malinda's housemates. Male AND female, just to be balanced.
The next morning was Sunday, so it was really nice and quiet. After sleeping in, we found a great cafe on the canal, where we got some coffee. And then we did what every proper Amsterdam(er?)(ian?) should - we rented bikes! The place is full of cyclists, from people riding side by side and holding hands, mothers with giant kid-boxes on the front of their bikes, and girls riding sidesaddle on the back of their date's bike. The place is so ridiculously quaint it hurts. Bikes made us feel like such locals, and it was great to sail around the city.
We stopped for lunch and had some fab brie and goat's cheese sandwiches. Next to us at the cafe were old and loud American tourists from (where else?) New Jersey. They seemed to like Malinda, but I distanced myself as much from them as possible. They were loud and annoying. Eek, Americans abroad. I get to be such a self-hating American when I travel. I try to blend in as much as possible because the American accent sounds so grating. Oh, well.
We hopped back on our bikes and went to a pancake place up a steep flight of stairs. (Let me just say that Let's Go was my savior on this trip. Nothing it recommended was bad. Good for you, Let's Go. You've officially made up for Spain.) We had the best pancakes ever (more like a crepe - mine had chocolate and coconut) and made friends with the chef, who gave us his philiosphy on life (and a very Amsterdam-like one), which apparently roughly translates as "Don't worry about other people's books" (ok, really roughly), and means that you shouldn't worry about what other people are doing. Mind your own business, basically. That's probably what makes Amsterdam such a tolerant and laid-back city (well, that and all the pot). No one looks at you funny, no one judges. I love this place.
= :)
Amsterdamalicious
Hello All -
Because I am completely inable to write concise descriptions (like Shelley), here is Part I or a 3-part series (just to make it fun).
So, I should probably tell all about Amsterdam. First off...I want to live there. Forever. And ever and ever. (Amen.) What a fantastic city. It has all these fabulous tall houses along the canals, and everyone rides bikes and sits out on their stoops and is amazingly relaxed. I need an EU visa (potential suitors, take note).
We almost missed our 6am flight after Malinda's bag broke right as she was leaving the house, but thanks to a helpful cabbie got to the station on time for our train to the airport. Our EasyJet flight was considerably less crunchy (see Seville) than Ryanair, and the Amsterdam airport was really nice, clean, and suitably Dutch. It was weird...everyone spoke English, but they were all taller and blonder than English people. I mean TALLER. I felt like a midget. More than usual.
We took the train to Amsterdam and headed off to find our hotel, which was this ridiculously cute little canal house with frighteningly steep stairs, all-day breakfast (mmm), and 2 fluffy, friendly cats. After a well-needed nap, we went off to explore, and could barely keep ourselves from cooing with delight and taking pictures of every. single. intersection. It's a cute city, what can I say?
After developing a newfound respect for Van Gogh at the (you guessed it) Van Gogh museum, and checking out a street of designer stores (I love you, Chanel!) we began the endless search for a cheap place for dinner. Cafes? Everywhere. Coffeehouses (where you don't actually drink coffee)? Even more of them. Affordable dinner? Nope. We finally found an Ethiopian place, where the food was incredible - I had this chicken-curry-like dish, and it came with spongy bread and all sorts of salad-like sides. Yummy.
More bits soon!
= :)
Because I am completely inable to write concise descriptions (like Shelley), here is Part I or a 3-part series (just to make it fun).
So, I should probably tell all about Amsterdam. First off...I want to live there. Forever. And ever and ever. (Amen.) What a fantastic city. It has all these fabulous tall houses along the canals, and everyone rides bikes and sits out on their stoops and is amazingly relaxed. I need an EU visa (potential suitors, take note).
We almost missed our 6am flight after Malinda's bag broke right as she was leaving the house, but thanks to a helpful cabbie got to the station on time for our train to the airport. Our EasyJet flight was considerably less crunchy (see Seville) than Ryanair, and the Amsterdam airport was really nice, clean, and suitably Dutch. It was weird...everyone spoke English, but they were all taller and blonder than English people. I mean TALLER. I felt like a midget. More than usual.
We took the train to Amsterdam and headed off to find our hotel, which was this ridiculously cute little canal house with frighteningly steep stairs, all-day breakfast (mmm), and 2 fluffy, friendly cats. After a well-needed nap, we went off to explore, and could barely keep ourselves from cooing with delight and taking pictures of every. single. intersection. It's a cute city, what can I say?
After developing a newfound respect for Van Gogh at the (you guessed it) Van Gogh museum, and checking out a street of designer stores (I love you, Chanel!) we began the endless search for a cheap place for dinner. Cafes? Everywhere. Coffeehouses (where you don't actually drink coffee)? Even more of them. Affordable dinner? Nope. We finally found an Ethiopian place, where the food was incredible - I had this chicken-curry-like dish, and it came with spongy bread and all sorts of salad-like sides. Yummy.
More bits soon!
= :)
May 12, 2006
Mystery Jets in Concert...
...are absolutely fabulous. Go see them if you get the chance.
In other news, not too much going on. I'm doing a lot of off-site interviews for work at places like BT, Glaxo Smith Kline and Christie's, which makes me feel important. Woohoo.
Off to see Madame Butterfly tonight - yaay opera. Will post next week.
= :)
In other news, not too much going on. I'm doing a lot of off-site interviews for work at places like BT, Glaxo Smith Kline and Christie's, which makes me feel important. Woohoo.
Off to see Madame Butterfly tonight - yaay opera. Will post next week.
= :)
May 4, 2006
Meet the Parents, part II
I went to Nic's this weekend, and by "Nic's," I mean Nic's house. The kind with parents and housepets. Dundunduhhhhhhh!
I met his mum, his dad (again), his little sister Hannah (14 years old), and his five cats (a number I jokingly made up in the office, only to find out it was true), Meesie, Sybil, Pandora, Salem, and a cute little grey one I kept calling Ferragamo but whose name was actually more like Fergari. I think.
And amazingly, it was not the horrifically embarrassing ordeal I thought it was going to be. His family did not hate me - in fact, I think they may have outright liked me. And I liked them. I also see where he gets his propensity for teasing me, as that's all they did to Nic all weekend. And by the time they started teasing me, I figured I had passed the test.
Nic lives in this adorable little village near Cambridge called Linton, and it has thatched cottages and winding streets and no useful shops, just like a proper village should. We had a fantastic time, though - the weather was gorgeous and we took a walk out by the fields (rural landscapes!), did some wine tasting at a local vineyard and lazed out in the sun. Just the relaxing weekend I needed (not including the 5:30am dawn pagan May Day dance in the woods (in a downpour), which, while fun, wasn't what I'd call relaxing.)
Lest I neglect to mention the food, it was delcious and plentiful. Nic's dad cooked us a fantastic curry on Saturday (apparently his one and only speciality), and Nic's mum made the tastiest Sunday roast ever, complete with duck confit, tons of veggies, stuffing balls, and homemade Yorkshire puddings. Not to mention the sticky sponge pudding and chocolate tart for dessert - both homemade as well. We even got a proper English breakfast before we left on Monday. Major points for good food, especially since I'm sure Nic will be telling his family I posted about the food, after teasing me about my "food blog" in front of them. So what. I love food. :P
So, a wonderful weekend spent in Linton. Thankfully, Nic's parents took no awkward pictures of us together. It's the little things that matter.
= :)
I met his mum, his dad (again), his little sister Hannah (14 years old), and his five cats (a number I jokingly made up in the office, only to find out it was true), Meesie, Sybil, Pandora, Salem, and a cute little grey one I kept calling Ferragamo but whose name was actually more like Fergari. I think.
And amazingly, it was not the horrifically embarrassing ordeal I thought it was going to be. His family did not hate me - in fact, I think they may have outright liked me. And I liked them. I also see where he gets his propensity for teasing me, as that's all they did to Nic all weekend. And by the time they started teasing me, I figured I had passed the test.
Nic lives in this adorable little village near Cambridge called Linton, and it has thatched cottages and winding streets and no useful shops, just like a proper village should. We had a fantastic time, though - the weather was gorgeous and we took a walk out by the fields (rural landscapes!), did some wine tasting at a local vineyard and lazed out in the sun. Just the relaxing weekend I needed (not including the 5:30am dawn pagan May Day dance in the woods (in a downpour), which, while fun, wasn't what I'd call relaxing.)
Lest I neglect to mention the food, it was delcious and plentiful. Nic's dad cooked us a fantastic curry on Saturday (apparently his one and only speciality), and Nic's mum made the tastiest Sunday roast ever, complete with duck confit, tons of veggies, stuffing balls, and homemade Yorkshire puddings. Not to mention the sticky sponge pudding and chocolate tart for dessert - both homemade as well. We even got a proper English breakfast before we left on Monday. Major points for good food, especially since I'm sure Nic will be telling his family I posted about the food, after teasing me about my "food blog" in front of them. So what. I love food. :P
So, a wonderful weekend spent in Linton. Thankfully, Nic's parents took no awkward pictures of us together. It's the little things that matter.
= :)
May 3, 2006
Cringe worthy...
...but oh so fantastic.
Stephen Colbert at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. They DID know who he was before they hired him to speak, right? Doesn't anyone watch Comedy Central? Hm.
http://video.freevideoblog.com/video/AAC7FA18-2DDC-4D3E-B1BB-9D6CBD83E27F.htm
Beware...the rest of the most-requested videos appear to be homemade porn. Shiver.
= :)
Stephen Colbert at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. They DID know who he was before they hired him to speak, right? Doesn't anyone watch Comedy Central? Hm.
http://video.freevideoblog.com/video/AAC7FA18-2DDC-4D3E-B1BB-9D6CBD83E27F.htm
Beware...the rest of the most-requested videos appear to be homemade porn. Shiver.
= :)
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