Tuesday, November 23, 2010

this is the first day of my life

I haven't listened to Bright Eyes in quite a while but once I clicked play I instantly missed them. I could go on and on about how special the music is to me, but just click below and see for yourself.



Wednesday, November 17, 2010

mrs press obsessed

Australian designer, Clare Press, has stolen my heart with her sweet designs and appreciation of all things vintage and silk. If I weren't living on a student loan, the Mrs. Press collection would be a staple in my wardrobe.



(About Mrs. Press Clothing, from their website)
Mrs. Press is a thoroughly modern girl to be sure, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like things to be done properly. That means silk knickers at all times, and the perfect vintage-inspired going out dress to make her look the bee’s knees.

Our girl loves to loll about at home dressed to thrill. She loves parties too, of course. Who doesn’t? Sometimes it feels as if life is one big party. Thank heavens for the divinely scented Mrs. Press candles – we all need to relax sometimes, no?

The Mrs. Press label is stocked in our flagship Sydney boutique as well as chic boutiques throughout Australia. Luxurious finishes, the very best fabrics and posh details have won these impeccably styled pieces a cult following.






quick read

I had seen the books everywhere - from grocery stores to billboards - and decided to be stubborn and not read the book that everyone seemed to be talking about. (I automatically hold a grudge against any book that has been sold more than a couple million times. I still haven't even read Eat, Pray, Love). Eventually, after having it recommended to me again and again AND again, I gave up and picked up a copy.

If you're looking for a series of books you can't put down and relentlessly turn the pages despite the fact that it's 4 am and you have to get up for class in a few hours, then these are the books for you! Sure, the writing might not be stellar and there is a unnatural amount of coffee being consumed every few pages, but the plot is amazing and characters are addictive. I definitely recommend them. Sadly, the author of the trilogy, Stieg Larsson, died shortly after delivering the manuscripts so he never knew how wildly popular they would be, and his fans have to suffice with these three books when Larsson most likely had more amazing stories up his sleeve.

Here's the description from the first book: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
Harriet Vanger, scion of one of Sweden's wealthiest families, disappeared over forty years ago. All these years later, her aged uncle continues to seek the truth. He hires Mikael Blomkvist, a crusading journalist recently trapped by a libel conviction, to investigate. He is aided by the pierced and tattooed punk prodigy Lisbeth Salander. Together they tap into a vein of unfathomable iniquity and astonishing corruption.



Monday, November 15, 2010

some like it hot

AAAAAGGGHHHHRRRRRAAAAAWWWRRRR.

This is what you would hear from me if the Bikram Hot Yoga Studio wasn't so damn quiet. I was dragged to my first class about a year ago and protested the entire way there. I've never done regular yoga! How can I handle a class done in a room that's 105 degrees? I'm not flexible enough! I have to wax the kitchen floors.... and so on.

The room was stuffy from an earlier class when me and about 40 others filed in - clad in florescent spandex, bikinis and itty bitty shorts. We bent this way and that through 26 postures and in the 90 minutes I dripped more sweat then I knew was possible. It poured into my eyes, ears, and mouth. Each time I attempted the 'head to knee' pose a generous sprinkling of glistening sweat sprinkled onto my towel. Several times I thought I might pass out (note to self: replace coffee with water). 3/4 of the class was painful, ungraceful and downright embarrassing BUT the last 1/4 felt so amazing that it made it all worth it. I stopped holding my breath and my muscles relaxed into some semblance of the intended pose.

The most amazing part was leaving the yoga studio and catching that first breath of crisp night air. Ah! I'm alive! I'm invincible! My body feels incredible! I can do anything! I went home and immediately fell into a deep sleep.


Yes, yes, I realize using a photo of supermodel Gisele Bundchen isn't the best way to portray yoga... but wouldn't you love to be as graceful as this yoga-buff?

Below are some of the health benefits from a Bikram Hot Yoga studio website:

Yoga is not an enigma. It is a 5000 year old science. It is unrivaled as a means of improving body health and suppleness, of creating peace of mind and absence of stress. A regular Bikram Yoga practice will change your life in the most wonderful ways and can help: weight loss, stress, anxiety, depression, insomnia, immune deficiencies, skin conditions, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, high blood pressure, arthritis, joint pain, chronic back pain, scoliosis, spinal injury, high cholesterol, heart disease, poor circulation, diabetes, hypoglycemia, sciatica, menstrual cycles, menopause, accident recovery, injury & pain, endocrine function, metabolism and emotional healing.

Effects of the HEAT: Fat reduction, weight loss and increased muscle tone, Increased range of movement in joints, muscles, ligaments and other soft tissues, Tissue, muscle, organ and gland oxygenation, Waste product elimination, Improved circulation, Increased metabolism, Willpower, self control, concentration and determination, Increased cardiovascular, Greater flexibility, less chance of injury and improved resolution of injury, Detoxification, Improved immune system functioning, Nervous system function optimized, Enhanced digestive system, Improves athletic performance

Saturday, November 6, 2010

rainy day music

Jack Johnson used to be my go-to guy for rainy day music but when a friend posted this video to Facebook I fell in love. Priscilla Ahn's songs are perfect for life on the west coast! Bundle up in a blanket, put on the kettle, and relax with a book and a few of Ahn's songs.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

a warm space



Disregard the crooked map :)

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

arizona



After a week of steady rain in Victoria, my sister, Erica, and I took our grocery money and booked a flight to Phoenix, Arizona. What was there to do in the sun-kissed state? I had no idea. But +30 degree weather at the end of October sounded perfect.

Our one big splurge - and another thing I can now cross off my bucket list - was going hot air ballooning! At 6am one morning, me and Erica met the balloon experts and a couple we'd be sharing the basket with. Up, up, up we went, approximately 3000 feet and the sun came up with us.





Unfortunately, both the boyfriend and girlfriend were petrified of heights and the entire basket shook with the racking sobs coming from the girlfriend.

Fortunately, the boyfriend distracted her... when he proposed!
Evidently, love was in the air. To celebrate we all drank a bottle of champagne in the desert at 9 am.






The trip encouraged me to add a new goal to my bucket list: walk across a desert. (Although at the moment I'm considering the desert in Carcross, Yukon... the smallest desert in the world).



We were so shocked to see a lime tree that we had to help ourselves to one


Sadly, after only four days of sunshine we came back to the chill of fall and reality. Still, I have a feeling this amazing semester is going to continue.

the marriage game

Feel like reading books that will crush your vision of marriage? Yates and Updike do just that, but they do it so well.
Both novels circle around themes of adultery, the search for self, marital balance and selfishness, yet the writing is strikingly beautiful and honest.
Below are passages taken from each of the novels - hopefully they will be enough to get you to pick up a copy.

Let's face it, movies are never as good as the books the stories were taken from. I thought the Revolutionary Road movie was extremely well done, but it still doesn't quite compare to the book.




"He rolled heavily upright and groped for his bathrobe, moistening the wrinkled roof of his mouth. Then he went and squinted through the brilliant window. It was April herself, stolidly pushing and hauling the old machine, wearing a man's shirt and loose, flapping slacks, while both children romped behind her with handfuls of cut grass.
In the bathroom he used enough cold water and toothpaste and kleenex to revive the working parts of his head; he restored its ability to gather oxygen and regained a certain muscular control over its features. But nothing could be done about his hands. Bloated and pale, they felt as if all their bones had been painlessly removed. A command to clench them into fists would have sent him whimpering to his knees. Looking at them, and particularly at the bitten-down nails that never in his life had had a chance to grow, he wanted to beat and bruise them against the edge of the sink. He thought then of his father's hands, and this reminded him that his dream just now, just before the lawn mower and the headache and the sun, had been of a dim and tranquil time long ago. Both his parents had been there, and he heard his mother say, 'Oh, don't wake him, Earl; let him sleep.' He tried his best to remember more of it, and couldn't; but the tenderness of it brought him close to tears for a moment until it faded away."





"'Sally!' He was on the sunless side of I Street, hatless, his arm lifted as if for a taxi. In a business suit, he looked disconcertingly like everyone else, and as he waited at the intersection for the electric permission to walk, her stomach dipped as if she had been snapped awake two hundred miles from home. She asked herself, who is this man? The sign said WALK. At the head of the pack, he trotted towards her; her heart thrashed. She hung helplessly on the curb while the distance between them diminished and her body, her whole hollowed body, remembered his twitchy posing hands, his hook nose that never took a tan but burned all summer long, his sad eyes of no certain colour, his crooked jubilant teeth. He grinned proudly but nervously, stood uncertain for a moment, then touched her elbow and kissed her cheek. 'God you look great,' he said, 'rolling along with that farm-girl gait, your big feet wobbling away in heels.'
Her heart relaxed. No one else saw her this way. She came from Seattle and this made her in Jerry's eyes a farm-girl. It was true, she had always felt uneasy in the East. There was a kind of Eastern woman, Ruth [his wife] for example, who never bothered with makeup or conspicuously flirted and beside whom Sally felt clumsy. Richard noticed this and tried to analyze her insecurity. Jerry noticed and called her his girl in calico. Not since before her father had died, on a trip to San Francisco, had she felt, what she supposed all children are supposed to feel, that it was somehow wonderful of her to be, in every detail, herself."