oak and honeysuckle and I thought describing wine was fun...

It's chuckle-worthy that leading up to and now passing by my 30th birthday, I've developed a staggering obsession with a music genre that teases out my closet electronica, techno junkie and sometimes even fuses it with everything I hated about 80s pop music.

And seriously there could be reason for concern, as lately I have been known to stop in the middle of something as important as cooking a delicate french sauce to run to the Nook and give a "thumbs up" on Pandora to bands like, "Freestylers," "College," and "DJ Fresh" -- songs with descriptions that include: electronica roots, headnodic beats, laid back female vocals, synth rock arranging, mild rhythmic syncopation, acoustic rhythm piano and extensive vamping, boiling strings, rattling synthesizers, and bass-heavy-beats. That sure as shootin beats any Pinio Noir review I've ever read--wine being the only product other than perfume that I personally (and liberally) "consume" that come with long illustrative descriptives such as the above.

I'll quickly add that this fetish of mine began with watching DRIVE -- a movie I rented purely because Ryan Gosling is in it and because I gobble up films with him in them like I did Brad Pitt movies in the 90s, but worse/more. Bands College and Desire are both featured in the film with their tracks "A Real Hero" and "Under Your Spell" respectively.

On to other things. To confess here this is a purely obligatory blog since I haven't been motivated lately--or perhaps just not operating in any consistently organized manner (consistently organized within my particular norms, that is) probably due to the fact that my world went into warp speed last week and has only barely slowed down. The feeling reminds me of being a kid and getting off a merry-go-round after a fantastical brain scrambling spin only my Dad could provide and not being able to walk strait for a few minutes.....or jumping on a trampoline for hours then trying to walk on solid ground without looking like the man on the moon.

And things aren't going to slow down for a while. Work will always been mach-level so theres no relief at the office, this weekend I'm heading to SC to clean my aunts house while she recovers from a knee injury and   next week we'll be packing to move out of the house and into a CLEAN, PEST-FREE condo (God bless it!!!) on the 31st. "Whew"simply is not a strong enough word. 

But this is my life. It is what it is. Which is probably why it's appropriate that I've attached myself to the aforementioned music.

Last night Rob took me out to dinner for my birthday since we we had out of town company and a pretty sizeable party last weekend and have barely recovered the house to normal conditions since then, must less our own routines. We went to Ocean Lodge, which to me has the best dinner-table panoramic ocean views on the island. See below:

and one of only a handful of "birthday pictures" we've taken-- after dinner

also showcasing Rob's stash (that originally would have retired at then end of "Moustache March" but has since been extended until after the Brunswick rodeo we're going to in April since Grant Powers, a bronc rider (not "bucking bronc," just "bronc," mind you), dedicated "The Ultimate Bad-Ass Award" to Rob over the course of my bday weekend.

things could suddenly turn in a completely different direction (or multiple directions) and I probably wouldn't even notice--might even be fun. we just go with it.

"Oh, baby baby it's a wild world" - Cat Stevens

on the Mark

Over the last few weeks I have been, on at least three occasions, confronted with delightful supporting evidence that I am not alone in certain feelings and positions of mine that, I, as I near the youthful age of 30, am less and less inclined to masking with the passive and more "socially acceptable" bull poop that that the general public seems to be accustomed and preferential to....

Anyway, another bit of evidence was happened upon today and I swiped it, as I frequently do, from one of my favorite websites, Letters of Note--written by the acclaimed Mr. Mark Twain.

And after watching The Trip last night, I also found absolute joy in reading the below excerpt out loud, to an audience of myself, in my office (with the door unabashedly open), and, if I may be so bold, spoken in my very best English noble accent--even though I know Mark Twain was, quite solidly, an American....from Missouri, to be exact--Salus populi suprema lex esto

(has anyone noticed just how many commas I have used so far.....)
,

"...Your letter is an insoluble puzzle to me.....Puzzles fret me, puzzles annoy me, puzzles exasperate me; and always, for a moment, they arouse in me an unkind state of mind toward the person who has puzzled me. A few moments from now my resentment will have faded and passed and I shall probably even be praying for you; but while there is yet time I hasten to wish that you may take a dose of your own poison by mistake, and enter swiftly into the damnation which you...have so remorselessly earned and do so richly deserve."

,


my oh my how many times have I found myself in this, "unkind state of mind," and, until today, never had the eloquence to channel that feeling into words I felt were best suited for those beings who have stirred said feelings inside my head and heart. God bless you Mr. Twain.

Happy. Monday.

the theme continues....

grab the cat and head for the hills

For one reason or another the last month or so has found one or both of us openly discussing the possibility of the end of humanity...and maybe the world. And often when something has been resting in the foreground of my mind, it seems to take on magnetic powers...but that's another blog for another day.

So last night Rob and I humored ourselves a good 10 minute conversation about what we would do if and when it all goes to hell in a hand basket.  We had started talking about how my best friends husband is convinced that the world will end this year (he is always kind enough to console us with his prediction that Rob and I will be able to enjoy the wedding and a brief period of married life before this happens, which, he thinks, would be weeks, not months--as if any of that would matter in the face of certain global demise). Rob had asked me if I thought Heith had psychic powers (what if I said yes?). I said I really didn't know, I guessed it was just a hunch. And Rob said, "Well if the world ends, I sure don't want to be here when it happens [insert my cynical chuckling] I'd rather be in the mountains." Then I said, "You mean you would actually want to survive the end of the world?!" to which he sort of snortily replied something along the lines of, "well I'd sure like to give it a shot!"

Rob isn't the only one who has expressed distaste of my occasional complete lack of enthusiasm for earthly life, even if it is all we get. Realizing that, I went along with the conversation and agreed that if we thought the world was ending we'd do our best to at least get as far as my family home in SC and then try to survive from there. So that's our plan. And it's not that I don't sincerely appreciate life or that I necessarily want to die, I just really really don't want to have to deal with crazy cannibalistic people as depicted in post apocalyptic stories like Cormac McCarthys The Road.

At the end of these conversations and brainstorms, I typically comfort my inner fears with the belief that surely our parents and grand parents and their parents and parents before them probably all had this same kind of conversation at one time or another. And this morning the universal weave gifted me with this, which appeared randomly* on one of the pages I peruse. It was written by a high school kid in the 1950s -- read this letter and more (including this one from Kurt Vonnegut -- may his blessed soul rest in peace somewhere nice) at Letters of Note

It's also worth mentioning that the young man writing this letter is named Nordahl....and isn't that an interesting name? Last night we watched the movie Another Earth, and the female character who wanted to go to Earth 2 was named Rhoda, which can be created using the letters in Nordahl, minus the n and l, of course. Anyway, it was another little thing that struck me fancy.

It's Friday, and I should be working my little fingers to the bone but I'm not -- I am simply too excited about leaving on a jet plane in two days to explore San Diego, California with my most favorite girl friend in the world, Lapo.



* randomness is something I do not believe in, along with the concept of meaningless coincidence

**I do, however, believe in unicorns, faeries and life on other planets

"The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us."

–Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes