Punjabis get down

Man, Nadia's family can boogie. We were out until 3 am dancing, and EVERYONE was dancing... aunties, uncles, wedding-crasher roommates... it was amazing. After sleeping untill noon, I'm too tired and braindead to describe the festivities well, but here are a couple of photos that provide a taste of my evening.




Nadia's mom is in the lavender, auntie in blue, the groom's sister in the hot pink, and Nadia's little bro with the crazy Punjabi dance moves. Nadia's mom kept up with the bhangra team, who broke it down after opening the reception with a choreographed performance. It was funny to watch them hit the dance floor because they just never stopped. At all.





Nadia gave me a quick dance lesson... "Just pretend you're screwing in a light bulb. This is totally the way Shah Rukh Khan does it."

Photos of Florence

It appears that I won't get sick of posting vacation pics any time soon. These are a few I took during the couple of days we spent in Florence.





This is the Ponte Vecchio, where you've probably already all been. It's all jewelry shops. Jeff humored me by letting me stare in all the windows until I got sick of it. It's apparently one of the worst places for being pick-pocketed in Italy -- likely because it's packed shoulder-to-shoulder with tourists and everyone is distracted by window shopping.




I just thought this produce shop was pretty. I will also add that ALL of the produce we had while we were on the trip was amazing, especially the tomatoes. Commenting on this really makes me feel like I'm my grandma, but I've been buying all kinds of tomatoes, melons, and other fruits and veggies since I've been back and they're really not the same. They don't look as good or taste as good, which is odd because it doesn't seem like the growing conditions in California and Italy should be very different.

The pictures below of are a butcher's shop. No way I couldn't take photos of small, stuffed wild boar, dressed as Renaissance-era diners. I hope they're not eating prosciutto.

Road Trip

Yesterday the roomies and I piled most of our apartment into the trunk of Nadia's Civic (which I have since dubbed "The Silver Bullet" -- Nadia drives fast), and headed down the Five. Destination: The OC and Nadia's cousin's wedding celebration.

We hit the greater L.A. Area in almost no time (seriously, I think it might have taken longer to fly down) and had a chance to visit the world's cutest baby before heading to what I now consider our practice event. The main celebration isn't until tonight, but last night we went to a warm up dinner at one of Nadia's auntie's houses.

Nadia failed to fill us in on some key Indian-family event strategies before we hit this dinner. For instance, it's all about the side hugs. Not so much the handshakes and no full-frontal hugging -- the side hug, one arm around the shoulders, is the way to go.

More important than hugging technique, Anita and I learned (the hard way) that these nights are marathons, not a sprints. You must pace yourself. Yes there is crazy good homemade Indian food everywhere, but it is just a snack and you have to make it through dinner, which will be served around eleven. Don't eat three samosas, no matter how good they are. Yes, the fried cheese is amazing, but stop yourself. It's only nine and there is more food coming. Soon you will be in pain and you definitely won't fit into your sari tomorrow.

I ate so much last night that I still can't really move. Still, I consider myself lucky to have figured out the strategy before the intensity of tonight's blow out. We're all camped out on the couch watching the England vs. Portugal penalty kicks, which doesn't require too much movement, just screaming, but I'm a little terrified about the fact that Nadia's mom is already putting more food on the table. It smells amazing... Something involving fried potato and roti. I know I won't be able to not eat it.

RIP toenail

My toenail (left foot, second biggest toe) completely fell off on Thursday. It was an especially sad event as I had just gotten a fabulous fire-engine red pedicure. I'm assuming the cause of my loss was a fairly severe stubbing incident incurred while dancing barefoot* last Saturday night, but I can't be sure.

A toe with no toenail looks kinda weird, like a mutant/alien toe, so I painted on a fake toenail with nailpolish. Now I can't tell, as long as I squint a little.

I've never lost a fingernail or toenail before. Will it grow back? Am I deformed forever?

*It is summer vacation, after all.

Another weird Match come on

Here's another attempted pick-up email forwarded on from my friend who is experimenting with Match.com. This is just SO weird and revolting...

"Anywho, have you seen the episode of CYE where Larry David wears a desensitizing condom backwards with his wife? Well, that's kinda been my life for the past year.... and things can only get better from here! So, How you doin?

What does a Turtle and Paris Hilton have in common? When they are on the backs... they are both F***'d.

Cheers
XXXX"

Really, this is real. Who would write this and think it might score them a date?

Jeff loves grappa

Jeff took this artistic shot (very late one night during dinner in Italy) expressing his love for grappa.




Il Lebbio is the brand name of all the wines produced at the villa. I can't really handle grappa and am not really upset about that fact. Jeff really took a shine to it. Ick.

We were invited to eat with the family that owned the villa one night, at their home (another villa), and after dinner the grandpa busted out about 25 flavors of homemade grappa. They were all in different repurposed bottles and jars with the flavor written, in Italian, on masking tape stuck to each bottle. Since they didn't speak any English and we didn't speak any Italian, it took what seemed like hours to figure out what each flavor was. They were flavors like coffee, coffee with honey, pomegranate, juniper berry (think gin), orange, etc. Even after just small tastes, we were all pretty toasted by the end. It all tasted like flaming gasoline to me.

Nothin' like a good poo story

Clare is trying to encourage my maternal instinct by sharing funny stories about Jackson (not that it's relevant to anything happening at present, but I have finally started to waiver on my firm belief that motherhood is not for me). For some reason I find the funny stories about kids much more endearing than the sugary sweet ones.

Anyway, here's her latest -- it's hilarious. Gross, but hilarious.

"Last weekend (not this past one but the one before it) Ross took Jack with him to the grocery store. Jackson had a HUGE blow-out (our kid likes to poop, wait four days then poop again, so they're always big, but this was enormous). Ross, thinking that he'd be a good dad, takes Jackson to the store bathroom to clean up the mess, instead of waiting until he got home (we live about four blocks from Safeway). However, there's no changing table in the men's room. Ross decides to use the floor. He puts down the changing pad, then puts down Jack, who at that moment decides to show off his new rolling-over trick... and rolls all over the poop. It's in his hair, all over his legs, back, and arms. Ross is frantically trying to clean it up enough to escape the store. A few guys come in to the bathroom while he's in there and immediately sorta back out slowly, like... "Man, I never want to be in your shoes!" When I get home Ross is sitting in a chair, pushing Jack back and forth in the stroller watching a World Cup game. Ross' face is ashen. Jackson is happy as a clam, though just a diaper and still slightly poo-tinged. I giggled all through Jackson's bath!"

A new routine

It's almost July, and I'm finally starting to get into the swing of this summer vacation thing. I've replaced the routine of commuting from work to school with a leisurely stroll home after work each evening. The first stop is the organic farmers' market on the corner of Valencia and 24th, where I pick up something for dinner and a bag of cherries. The cherries get eaten on the way to stop two, which could be a bookstore, or the pedicure place, or the wine shop... wherever I wind up. Once home, I move on to talking on the phone, having a shot or two with Nadia, maybe blogging for a bit, going out for drinks, or even going to bed early. I've been able to read novels, watch stupid sitcom television (Sex in the City is on right now), rent movies, and clean out my dresser drawers. It still feels luxuriously fabulous to be doing anything that's not studying. The MBA may have been a mistake.

A collection of sunsets

Yep... I'm still posting vacation photos. One of the coolest thing about the villa was the sunsets. They were crazy awesome every night. One of the best sunsets came on a night that Jeff and I skipped dinner (you can only eat so much) and walked back to the villa from Certaldo. We sat out on the patio and watched it for hours.

e-love

These days, it seems that everyone who is anyone is dating online. I mean, I've always known a handful of friends who were testing the waters, but right now it seems to be that every person I speak to is on either Match, Craigslist, eHarmony, or IndianMatrimonials.com.

This Slate.com article about the state of Internet romance is pretty funny and worth reading. I'm shocked to learn that 17% of online daters have found long-term relationships or marriage through the Internet... Seems high.

In other news, one of those friends who decided to try it out received the following email from a potential match (I guess it's supposed to be a pickup?):

"Here's a couple celeb jokes I made up:

Britney's guide to going out with your baby:
You could carry your baby with both hands. But why should your baby be lonely? Carry your baby in one hand and your foofy dog in the other. To economize further, have the baby ride the dog so you can carry a drink in the other. And why stop at high heels? Why not try stilts or skis?

TOM: Kate, I gave you a ton of money and named my plane after you, what do you expect, real intimacy and acceptance of who you are?
Katie: Why can't you be like the guy I saw in the movies? Was the marriage proposal just a ruse to get me to produce you a male heir?
TOM: Yes, did it work?

Hoped you like the jokes. Email me if you want."

Kind of painful.

I will beat you, jet lag!

I think I may have finally done it -- yesterday may have been the breaking point. Since returning from the trip, I haven't really slept more than a couple hours here or there. The effects of not sleeping over a period of a week or so are pretty amazing. I was feeling hazy and without any attention span, almost like being a little tispy all the time (then again, maybe that's not so different from the way I feel normally). I kept forgetting things, like what I had walked into the kitchen for.

A colleague mentioned to me that he had once had such bad jet lag and slept so little that he started slurring his words and could barely function. He was supposed to be working, so he wound up trading a copy of The Satanic Verses for a valium in order to sleep. I think he said he was in Jerusalem.

I was finally able to get my first full, normal night's worth of sleep last night. And that came right on the heels of a four-hour late afternoon nap. Not sure how it's possible, but I still feel pretty tired... think I just need to get a little coffee in the system.

Banish me to Elba

After three or four nights, Jeff and I started to get a little stir crazy at the villa. One can only take so much serenity. We visited Florence for awhile, and then we decided to take off to Elba, which you'll probably remember is a medium-sized island off the coast of Tuscany. Napoleon was banished to Elba, but now it's a beachy vacation get-away.

Elba is sunny, dry, hilly, and green. You could do some amazing hiking if you could ever get yourself off the beach. I took these as we were coming in on the ferry:










We stayed at a hotel that shared a little private beach with a few other hotels. Our primary activity while on the island was shopping for picnic supplies every morning and hitting the beach.




We became such good beach bunnies that we even invested in some euro-style swim suits. Jeff's was a super short, skin tight, and had pink stripes (I quickly inheirited it, as he refuses to wear it in public). I don't know that I would wear mine back home, as it's very small, but it's also pink and I adore it.

The main beach was a short walk away from the hotel, and it was a little bit of a scene. I took these photos first thing in the morning:







In the late afternoons, we chilled back at the hotel. Our balcony was wonderful. I managed to tear through about 500 pages of my book sitting out there.





(FYI: Jeff is a banjo player, so that t-shirt is referring to picking a
banjo -- not his nose or butt.)

Elba was by far my favorite part of the trip. I'd strongly recommend a visit if you're in Italy. It seems sort of ignored in the travel guides, and maybe that's part of the reason it was so nice.

Attenti al cane

At all the houses around the villa, there were these huge fluffy white dogs. We decided it must be some special Tuscan breed of dog. They were guard dogs, and they were super aggressive and barky... Not very friendly, but still cute and fluffy enough that I considered attempting to pet one or two. Jeff very wisely stopped me before I put my hand through the gate.

I took some pictures of our favorite fluff-ball:






We nick-named him The Polar Bear and he would bark like crazy at us every time we jogged by his gate. Unless he was taking a nap, then he wouldn't notice. He was getting older and it sounded like he was a little asthmatic. His bark was deep and gravely and he'd have to stop and catch his breath in between barks.

Does anybody know what kind of dog this is? One of the Italian guys I talked to thought they were originally sheep herding dogs. They look like sheep. They'd blend right in with a herd of sheep, but all the wooly fur them makes them seem a little out of place under the hot Tuscan sun.

The perfect summer beverage

The New York Times ran a fabulous article about everyone's favorite sparkling wine today, or at least my favorite. Check it out, and make prosecco your new bevy of choice this summer. Happy solstice!

The baby formerly known as Bucky

We're taking a break from our regularly scheduled posts of Tuscany photos in order to look at some super cute pictures of Jack. Clare sent the most recent shots while I was out of the country. I still just want to squeeze those cheeks. Such a cutie!




His future is so bright...




Clare says Jack likes to eat blankets.




Clare's dad (Grandaddy to Jack) is a b-school professor, and Clare titled this one, "So, let me tell you a little bit about finance..."




Yep... There's no way this kid won't get an MBA.




Rock on.




Such a good lookin' family! This one was taken at Jack's christening.