Hounds of Love

Kate Bush is an incredible artist who was fortunate enough to receive and early start at a musical career and to have survived long enough to produce a unique musical catalog. When first listening to the female singer, I found myself being tortured, for lack of a better adjective, by her eerie and childish vocals. However, being one to willingly abuse her ears, I gave her many more tries, and it was in fact her song "Cloudbusting" that won me over. One of the things that I enjoy most about the artist is that she is not solely singing about love, sex or rock (which is unfortunately a trap that far too much music fall into). Instead, she sings about a varying array of subjects: everything from Emily Brontë's "Wuthering Heights" to her dear old "Babushka."

Today, it is "Hounds of Love" that has characterized my week, which you can listen to at last.fm, a useful online tool to track your daily, weekly, monthly and even yearly listenings. This is my favorite part

Take my shoes off
And throw them in the lake,
And I'll be
Two steps on the water

I think this is a great visual, and it also makes me wonder if this is perhaps how Jesus himself walked on the water a couple millenia ago. Something to ponder I suppose.

My Secret Christmas List

Over the last couple of weeks I've been gathering a list of things I would like for Christmas. I never did let anybody see this list, which raises the question "Well, what's the point of a Christmas list if I don't tell anyone what it is that I want?" A noble question.

Since I've been home for the break, I was informed that I was not receiving any Christmas presents. I was a bit aghast because I had purchased my parents extremely thoughtful presents. I instantly regretted not giving my mother my secret Christmas list. However, after expressing my disappoinment with a crestfallen look across my face, my mother explained to me it wasn't due to the stock market or because I had been naughty, but instead because she preferred to take me on a sort of "back to school" shopping trip so I could find exactly what I wanted and make a day out of it with some mother-daughter bonding. Personally, I would much rather spend a day shopping with my mother instead of giving her a finite shopping list dictating "what I want," which in some respects would make me feel like I had turned her into my personal shopper.

Not being a full-blooded Christian since my mother is Jewish (which according to the Torah would make me Jewish being as the lineage follows the mother's blood line), I've never had a huge connection to the holiday. While we do celebrate it every year with my dad's side of the family, it was never a big deal in my nuclear family. As a child when we lived closer to my mother's side of the family, we did celebrate Hanukkah with my mother's parents and then Christmas with my dad's parents. Being a bit of an elitist even as a child, I always enjoyed celebrating Hanukkah a little bit more because I knew fewer people who celebrated the holiday. Additionally, growing up I was closer to my mother's side of the family because we saw them much more often, allowing for stronger bonds to develop so logically time spent with them was always more enjoyable.

It is my personal belief that this time of year is to be spent reflecting on what we are grateful for. It is meant to be spent with family and friends and to rekindle yearly traditions before the close of the year (these traditions include: obscene amounts of baked goods, poinsettias, decorating, walking at night to see the Christmas lights, feeling homey with your homies). It is meant for us to feel that inner warmth, which will serve to carry us through the darkest and coldest part of the year. No matter what one celebrates, this is a universal feeling; a feeling that makes the air around us electric and full of the goodness of life.


My Secret Christmas List

Some of the things I want but don't need:

• Blackberry Storm

Some of the things I want:

• new alarm clock
• Hardshell case for my macbook
• flannel check shirt

Some of the things I need:

• Broken Social Scene tickets
  
• American Apparel Deep V-Neck T's

Crocheting a Hat

Yesterday I picked up my first crochet hook and tonight I finished a hat. I was pretty shocked, however in my attempts to avoid severe ennui I became crafty. After watching an extremely helpful tutorial, I was able to start my hat in no time at all.


If this snow does not melt soon, I may crochet myself a matching noose.

The Winter Solstice

Still the same old snow I've come to know quite well (now with ice!), I ventured forth from my home to the cold outdoors. The snow is beautiful and the noise the thin layer of ice makes when it gives under foot is much more fulfilling than a crunchy pile of autumn leaves. What I love most about this sort of weather is...the silence. When all that can be heard is the sound of snowfall and the glittering chime of ice covered tree limbs lightly striking against one another.

This winter scene I instantly coupled with Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening."


Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost


This photo I snapped near my home of a red farmhouse across Lacamas Lake.

The Afternoon Drink

Snuggling up in a wool sweater next to a large bay window to watch the snow fall is a rare opportunity in the northwest. However, after nearly a week of this type of weather, its illustrious beauty begins to become a bit of a drag when you realize that this "beauty" has resulted in you being snowed in for the last few days without any external human contact. 

While pondering my isolation, I have taken up a myriad of tasks. Aside from already completing a couple of books, I have started blogging and researching specific clothing and electronic items that I would be interested in adding to my Christmas list. I have also began to lament the state of my Blackberry Pearl, which is beginning to show signs of deterioration. However, there is only so much online shopping that one can do before deciding that these future possessions are only fleeting pleasures.  It is for this reason that I have began to drink.

While it is just past two in the afternoon and the only person who woudn't frown at me is the alcoholic down the street; I have made it my personal mission to partake in perhaps one of the more classic past times.

After a quick search on wikipedia, I was able to instantly garner a brief history of alcohol consumption. Reaching back to as far as 9,000 years ago in the village of Jiahu, in the Henan province of Northern China, fermented alcoholic beverages first took hold. With a deep rooted history in many regions and religions, drinking an alcoholic beverage with family or friends is a classic mode of enjoying oneself.

During my brief research, I learned that drinks containing alcohol were often the beverage of choice in Medieval Europe because it allowed one to quench the thirst while simultaneosly avoiding many water-borne diseases such as cholera.

Today, I proudly take part in an ancient tradition by enjoying my mid-day drink. Cheers.

The Atlantic Monthly and Why I Will Not Soon Return To Honolulu

As with most things in Honolulu, everything is dated-including the country's best magazines. Yes, already two weeks into December I innocently attempted to purchase the latest copy of The Atlantic at a Barnes & Noble where much to my chagrin they only carried the November issue. However, since Hawaii had already managed to beat my spirits in the few short days since my arrival, I decided to buy the old magazine being as I was in acute need of entertainment.



It was in that issue of the Atlantic where I learned of their decision to revamp the design of the magazine. I was pleased to find that this redesign in no way impeded an already great magazine, but instead made it an even more enjoyable reading experience. A magazine created for a sensible reader interested in pertinent political, social and cultural issues; the updated Atlantic has not strayed from its original goal.

As for Honolulu, it is a miserable and decrepit wasteland of past successes and out-dated Utopian dreams. Honolulu, perhaps popular in the 1950s and 60s has over the years failed to maintain its past splendor and instead irreparably decayed. Honolulu is run-down, dirty and slummy. It was not the tropical respite I was hoping for upon going to Hawaii after completing my finals at college. However, the situation only became more pitiable when the city was hit with a terrible storm. Torrents of rain and gusts of wind clawed at the otherwise old, but pleasant resort where I was staying. Perhaps the best part of the weekend was when one of the shutters in the hotel lobby was blasted by extreme winds causing it to unhinge and knock over an elderly woman. While this was incredibly amusing to me, I did momentarily hold my laughter until being certain that the elderly woman was still alive after her blow. Although I had a less than pleasurable vacation, I can only assume that being knocked over by a two-story high shutter would make it worse.

I plan to write a stern letter to the city in hopes of refunding my travel expenses.

American Apparel's Circle Scarf

Although I have only had it for half a week, I already know that the circle scarf is going to be my favorite accessory for the winter season. Available at American Apparel, known for it's borderline pornographic ad campaign and reasonably priced American-made clothing, the circle scarf is so simple it's innovative.

Offered in an array of colors, I chose purple to contrast with my green winter coat. However, in addition to the variety of colors American Apparel offers this winning scarf in, there are equally as many ways to wear it. I have found that I prefer doubling the scarf around the neck allowing one loop to fit snugly under the chin while the other hangs lower.


It's already apparent that this will be a popular item for the holidays.

A Brief Thought

Every year I find that more time passes between my visits from college to home. As such, I invariably find myself missing the perks of heading home for the holidays while I am away at school. These include the homemade meals, a comfortable house as well as offers from my mother to do my laundry. While all of these things are extremely convenient, I have found that the longer I am from home, the more disconcerting it is for my mother to handle my intimate clothing items. Specifically my thong underwear.

The argument could be made that thongs date back to the Adam and Eve's loincloth era. However, it was not until the late 90's when they became acceptable for the Victoria's Secret shopping crowd. Celebrities who tirelessly flaunt their underwear like Britney Spears and the long-forgotten popularity of Sisqo's "Thong Song" popularized this barely-there panty choice. While many have caught on to the benefits of the skimpy brief, others have not. It is this disparity that has made me realize that the old addage is true-You can never go home again. Or at least your underwear can't.

Too err is human. To subscribe to the domain of the hipster-unavoidable.

Recently turning 21 has opened up the world of the state liquor cabinet to me. Living in Washington, a state where the selling of spirits is reserved for liquor stores alone, entering such a domain after being barred for over two decades was a delightfully overwhelming experience. Whether or not it should be reserved for the 21+ crowd is beyond my jurisdiction, however purchasing my own alcohol without using a middle man has made me more appreciative of the selection open to a discerning palate.

My experimentation only reaffirmed what I had know long ago-I prefer Kahlua, or more specifically the drink it helps to make known as a White Russian. Whether or not it has garnered the reputation it has accumulated over the years (perhaps a tip of the hat to The Big Lebowski), I drink it because I find it enjoyable.

While perusing The New York Times, I read an article quoting David Wondrich, the drinks correspondent for Esquire who mentioned that now the drink is "the mark of the hipster." Regardless of whether or not hipster approval of the White Russian will serve to further mark the downfall of the western civilization as an Adbusters article might lead you to believe, I will drink on despite the allegations. Cheers.