missing jumper

If you find the beautiful sweater pictured below, please return.
Otherwise, RIP perfect green-gray French Connection jumper.
I'll miss you and remember you fondly.




PS I love my friends.

ross clark photographs

photo credit: Takeshi Suga

Wilco will love you, baby.

This week gave me a musical goodie bag.
Wilco's new album, set to release June 30, leaked by Wednesday morning, and in classy Wilco fashion, Jeff and the boys began streaming the album on their official website: http://beta.wilcoworld.net/records/thealbum/.
Coldplay gave their fans a free download of a new live album, LeftRightLeftRight, two days later: http://www.coldplay.com/lrlrl/lr.html.
Enjoy. :)

Ross Clark, Captain's Rest, Glasgow - 15/5/09

Last evening I saw my friend Ross Clark perform at Captain's Rest in Glasgow.
I thoroughly enjoyed his show.
I think all of you lovely readers should check out his blissful melodies: http://www.myspace.com/electricpolyester.
He's my favorite Scottish discovery - Bon Iver meets Bright Eyes with a Glaswegian accent (the BEST Scottish dialect).

Photos of the fetching Scotsman to come! (I befriended a film photographer at the show; his photos are being developed. Film is so vintage chic.)

Ross Clark & The Scarfs Go Missing - Silversword LIVE @ The Mill from Craig Rooney on Vimeo.

I ran into Phillip and Nick from the fashion post a few below this one at Ross's show. Nick made sure I remembered the name of his and Phillip's band by tattooing the name across my arm with a pen pulled out of that gorgeous leather saddlebag. Check out the tunes of those fashion forward boys: http://www.myspace.com/acopenhagenhope.

Andrew Bird, Oran Mor, Glasgow -14/5/09

A few of my friends and I headed to the Oran Mor in Glasgow last night to see Andrew Bird.
Bird sent his band packing after his show in Manchester the night before, and I couldn't be happier about that fact.
He'd play different parts, record them, and play them back so he could be his own full band.
The man flew into my heart and serenaded my soul.
To add to the evening's stellarness, we had spots in the front row.
Check out some earth shattering good clips:













photo credit: Takeshi Suga

Move abroad. Cut out of your safety net. And liberate your mindset.

I find it difficult to recognize the ways in which I change and evolve.
BUT I have noticed one major change with myself from the beginning of the semester.
I came to Scotland confident, thinking I could do anything I wanted in the world.
I leave knowing I CAN do anything.

When I was stranded at Dublin Airport with all of my credit and debit cards frozen and no cash, I figured how to get safely to my hotel.
When I didn't think I could pull myself to the top of that cliff when rock climbing for the first time, I found a bit more muscle to drain and make it to the top.
When I didn't have one person in an entire country I could call a friend, I took risks and made friends I'd miss even if we'd never met.

I will bike across America.
I will go to culinary school in Paris.
I will abandon a secure paycheck and pursue my theatrical dreams.
I will create and live the life my 5 year old self dreamed of. No need for make believe and dress up. Reality's much better.







"For what it's worth it's never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things that you've never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you are proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

-Benjamin Button

GLASGOW - Phillip and Nick Outside the Oran Mor

Give me more vintage jumpers and leather saddlebags. Nice look, boys.

kilted golfers

read this, chickens.

Happy Mother's Day, Mumsie.

Mother's Day in Scotland was back in March, but today is the REAL Mother's Day, seeing as my mother is American.
I raise my coffee cup to you, Mom.
Thank you for consistently outcooking gourmet chefs, talking me down from hysteria even at 3am, and teaching me the ways of your wardrobe.
Happy Mother's Day, Mumsie. Love you.

USMC Dinner Meet!

April 24-26 - Dinner Meet

I joined the University of Stirling Mountaineering Club in February. This included a semester of hiking, rock climbing, and 99p drinks at studio every Tuesday night. The semester climaxed with Dinner Meet, a weekend in the highlands inducting the new board members. We rented out an entire hostel for the weekend (30 of us headed up).

Highlights:
+midnight tea and biscuits
+climbing castle ruins
+our new president waxing his legs for induction
+3 course meal
+post induction hostel party
+spice girl sing-a-long with real brits on the ride home
+american pancakes!

the blue grotto, capri

I paid 10 euros for a 3 minute boat ride.
Scammed.

capri

Friday, April 10 - Sunday, April 12, 2009

Liz and I delayed booking our beautiful Capri hotel until it was full, so we ended up staying in a JANK trailer off the Amalfi Coast. I'm glad:

Capri is an over commercialized, over crowded strip mall of over indulgent labels. SO OVER CAPRI.


PS Every Italian woman owns a Louis Vuitton purse.

bon voyage

After the euphoric vespa tour, my new friend Loralee and I trained it down to Rome. I sat and wrote postcards and listened to Loralee’s spectacular life and woes. Although she looked mid twenties, she had ten years on her look. She worked in healthcare nonprofits specializing in international health. Loralee held a graduate degree in public health and previously served in both Americorps and the Peace Corp. We discussed everything from exes to our faith. I found a kindred spirit in Loralee. It was the most enjoyable travelling experience I can recall.

I ride vespas under the Tuscan sun.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

I was running late as usual, so the tour bus for the vespa picked me up at Plus. Muz and Loralee, the two other vespa tourists, along with our lovely guide Esam made the ride deep into the Tuscan countryside pass quickly. Esam was quite the character. "This is not my job, this is my life. You are not my clients, you are my friends." A sweet character.

After a brief orientation, we vespaed for 6 hours under the Tuscan sun.

We stopped for photo ops, a lovely lunch/wine tasting, and the world's best gelato.

Fashion F(i)renzeeeeeee

I dream about the day when kwanderlust.blogspot.com includes a Sartorialist flair, but my shyness overwhelms me every time I see a fashion blog worthy European. At least I'm comfortable creeping. The style of these ladies inspires the threads in my heart to dance.

Firenze

Tuesday, April 7 - Thursday, April 9, 2009

I hopped on a train to Firenze for a mere 16 euros from Tuesday through Thursday while Lizzie studied up for her wine exam back in Rome. I stayed at the best peer reviewed hostel in Europe - Plus. If you're ever in Florence, I pass on the recommendation.

I decided to go for a run my first morning. I am not a runner; 30 running minutes satisfies me. I ran for 2 hours. Again - SO SO LOST. This was an experience. Italians do not run outside, so a fair, freckled redhead in purple leggings running through their city called for a few looks. Thankfully, my limited Italian and the wealth of English-speaking Italians helped me find my way back to Plus. Running lost in Florence was one of my favorite experiences of the semester. I will never forget the unique rush of speaking broken Italian to English-less, elderly Florentine shop owners with endearing grins.

Since I booked my Florence trip spur of the moment, I had to change rooms every night at Plus. After my run, I checked out, but never closed the door to my room so I could return to shower.


Florentine highlights:
+panini!
+charming shopkeepers
+bike tour with Fadi, architecture professor and part time tour guide
+THE DAVID
+randomly meeting my new friend Jessica at Academia and again in our randomly shared hostel room

Vatican Chaos

Monday, April 6, 2009

I decided to visit the Vatican on my first Monday in Rome.

Liz headed off to class, and I headed off to get lost. It took me a normally 20 minute walk, 60 minutes in order to find the treasured Pope's place.

When I saw the large dome of St. Peter's, my lost self perked up. Unfortunately, the two hour line to enter the basilica was not nearly as pleasing.

I decided to visit the Vatican on the Monday of Holy Week.

Thankfully, I made two friends in line. Theresa was a school teacher from Jersey traveling through Italy on her spring break with her high school friend working in Paris. They were truly lovely Vatican companions.

I didn't care for the Vatican's opulence. The ropes directed the crowds like cows to where they can pay their money to enter holy places. Is this how a place of God provides for his people? The Vatican did not represent my God.

ROMA

Thursday, April 2 - Monday, April 6, 2009

My first morning in Roma, Liz and I walked down to the alley below her apartment and shopped all of the fresh produce. I couldn't believe that I could get so much delectable fruit for so little money. I would have spent 3 times the amount at Tesco. We wandered over to Tuti for the rest of our grocery shopping. (Did you know you can get a brilliant bottle of merlot for one euro - less than what Tuti charges for bottled water?) Basically, Liz and I ate a ton of amazing home cooked food in Rome, a welcome change to my UK cup of soup or cereal diet.

In between meals, Liz and I saw some beautiful sights together:

PIK >>> CIA : April 2, 2009

I was a vision.

I arrived to Glasgow's Prestwick airport proud of two weeks packed into a tiny rolling duffle bag.
Unfortunately, the woman checking carry on bags was less impressed. She forced my little duffle onto the scale, weighing in at 13.4 kilos, 3.4 over the carry on maximum. Her large shoulder pads raised as her hand rested on her hip and the other pointed to the check in counter. I inquired how much it would cost to check my bag for my Ryan Air flight to Roma, and the young attendant with bright eyes responded, "40 pounds".

I resorted to my only affordable option: I placed my bag on a scale and started pulling out clothing until the digits fell under 10 kilos. After zippering my 10 kilo duffle, I put on two pairs of leggings, two pairs of shorts, a pair of jeans, three tank tops, three t-shirts, a dress, two headbands, a hat, and three scarves all over my tights, skirt, and jumper. I pulled my jacket over and stuffed the pockets with jewelry and adapters.

I was a vision.

I then raced to the front of the security line, where a friendly Scotswoman let me skip the line in order to make my flight. Large shoulder pads didn't even weigh my bag.

I spent half of the three hour flight undressing in my seat and packing. I spent the other half of the flight getting chatted up by the Canadian who watched me during the first half.

Liz greeted me at Ciampino, the world's dinkiest airport, and we proceeded to take a bus to a bus to train to a train to her flat.

Life is about the journey, not the destination.

shoes. shoes. shoes. shoes.

I love Brits.
This is a two thirty am, unposed, post-clubbin' shot.
Just look down in the UK and your fashion sole will smile.