Friday, December 10, 2010
Arizona - the name of our freinds' band - is super cool. They have an awesome repertoire with one hit song after another. They look like rock stars and they're so well rehearsed the show doesn't feel stiff or uptight in any way. They have tons of fun and it shows. Their set was going just fine when all of a sudden this ridiculous snake creature slithers out of his hole and after insisting for all and sundry to get up and play the harmonica with them, he finally gets called up.
Let me describe him for you. Stupid hat/cap, dark sunglasses (in a dimly list establishment AT NIGHT), earrings on both ears, skinny jeans that are strategically ripped in special places, LOW cut V-neck Tshirt and ----- necklace/chain. He looked like a total douche.
He gets up on stage and starts making out with his harmonica and playing like a man possessed by Narcissus himself as well as several other harmonica playing demons. To say that he was stealing the limelight would be an understatement, he was more like an attention whore/vampire/hog all rolled up in one - and that's being kind. I'm going to call his solo in "Sweet Home Alabama" - "An Ode to My Penis". Was the solo, and subsequently the song, good? Yes, yes it was, though it got old fast. Was his performance entertaining? Yes, if nothing else it was hilarious and very ridiculous which is perfect fodder for blogs, jokes and gossip. Did it sound like he was playing to his penis? Yes, a little bit.
I would like to say he only got up for one number, but that would be a lie because then he proceeded to shove the drummer off his stool and then told the base player to take a walk. Why was he given this much freedom to do whatever he wanted, you ask? Well, because first he was being all needy and grabby in public, and it's always better not to argue with a douchey slimy looking crazy in front of everyone as it will most likely turn into a bar fight if you do. And second, because he's friends with the owner's sister's boyfriend.
We're taking the kids to Arizona's show tonight, here's hoping we don't cross paths with the most ridiculous person alive again.
FYI, I really tried to find out his name, but it seems even the people standing next to him, the band members and people he was greeting like long lost friends pretended they didn't know him when I asked them what his name was. Not surprising.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
I just finished reading D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover. I had seen the 70's movie ages ago but I had never read the book. When I first started reading it, it took me a couple of pages to get accustomed to the style of writing. For the most part it was the excessive use of exclamation marks that threw me, and then there was the Hugh Grant style narration. It really felt like Hugh Grant or Anthony Hopkins was the narrating with all the starts and stops. Very British.
I do love British writing though, so I decided to power through and I'm glad I did. It's a great book. Well written, insightful, honest and kind of pornographic. After my last experience reading sex scenes written by a man I thought I would never be okay, but as it turns out it's not all men, just some - or possibly one. D.H. Lawrence deals with it head on in a very factual and straightforward way. It's interesting.
The book is not only about animal lust and sex between a lady and her gamekeeper, no, it's about how boring the British nobility is, for one. It also touches on their social divide, love, tenderness and real intimacy. It's not a shallow book with no substance past the sex, so it does keep you interest and while reading it you understand how relevant the sex is, and even the description of it is.
I highly recommend it if you're in between books and you don't know what to pick up next. It's a solid read and a good time.
Finding a new show is as fulfilling as finding a new brand of makeup you never new existed and always hoped you'd find.
While looking for something interesting to fill my Grey's Anatomy Monday night slot while the show is on hiatus I happened upon the coolest show on TV right now, Justified. During the first episode you follow a super bad-ass US Marshall as he literally does a Billy the Kid style quick draw and kills a super creepy bad guy with nasty skin resulting in his transfer from Miami back to hicksville Kentucky, his home town.
The show makes Timothy Olyphant into a quasi superhero who can bring down seriously evil and ignorant white trash without breaking a sweat and wears a cowboy hat with the grace and ease of John Wayne. He's even got a swagger. With winner lines like the ones below there is no doubt this show is going to just get better and better. Super witty, hard-core without being grotesque like The Shield and some other shows out there, it's a recipe for success. The show has been renewed for a second season and considering the reviews it's getting, I wouldn't be surprised if it hangs around for some time.
God help me, I love it when bad guys get brought to justice. Buenos tiempos people. Surprising how different two shows with similar story lines can be. Do you remember that show I call Circling the Drain - In Plain Sight (I literally had to look up the real name)? That show is so lame it's enough to make you turn off your TV and wash the dishes. Thank God for decent writers.
Fave lines from episode 1:
[giving the prayer at Boyd's camp]
Raylan Givens: Dear Lord, before we eat this meal we ask forgiveness for our sins, especially Boyd- who blew up a black church with a rocket launcher, and afterwards he shot his associate Jared Hale in the back of the head out on Tate's Creek bridge. Let the image of Jared's brain matter on that windshield not dampen our appetites, but may the knowledge of Boyd's past sins help guide these men. May this food provide them with all the nourishment they need. But, if it does not, may they find comfort in knowing that the United States Marshal Service is offering fifty-thousand dollars to any individual providing information that will put Boyd back in prison. Cash or check, we can make it out to them. Or to Jesus. Whoever they want. In your name, we pray. Amen.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
It was a typical spring evening in Rio de Janeiro. The humidity in the air was so thick you could wash your hair with it, or cut it with a knife - if you're into everyday, unoriginal expressions. My hair was defying the law of gravity and proving every stereotype associated with curly/frizzy hair. At one point I considered cornrows like Monica when she went to the Bahamas in Friends, but rejected the idea when I got a mental image of what my face would look like - a perfect, shiny circle. Not flattering.
Earlier in the day I had woken up to find an orchid waiting for me, and only moments later opened the door to find a delivery guy with another one. It was clear that even though I was having one of the worst bad hair days since everyone in the 80's, someone very powerful was smiling in my direction. Still recovering from the beauty of the orchids and the sparkling fairy happiness of my Christmas tree, I drank my morning iced mocha and turned on my laptop.
While I opened Outlook I held my breath hoping and praying that my smiling Protector would remove emails from my inbox if there were too many - luckily (or by divine intervention) there were so few emails I finished the first part of my morning to-do list before you could say sushi. And that's exactly where I went for lunch. My sister and Tati kidnapped me and whisked me off for an extravagant lunch at a wonderful place where we ate crazy delish food and drank kiwi frozen caipisakes (caipirinha made with Japanese sake). So good.
Was my day over? - not quite. A good friend of mine offered to make me a special birthday dinner - Peruvian food. I had long suspected that I didn't like Peruvian food because when I was there we never ate Peruvian food - in fact I don't think we ate anything resembling food at all. We lived on a poo related diet, as it turns out. After dinner last night, I can say with complete and surprising certainty that Peruvian food is delicious. I wish I could go back in time and eat real food there - I lived 2 whole years in a country and never really experienced the cuisine. Sucks so much, you know?
Our memories and impressions of a country are definitely linked to the food we eat there. If you eat crap kebabs for 2 full years, there is very little chance that you're going to remember your time there fondly. All that to say, I had a tremendous birthday, received so many birthday wishes I was positively overwhelmed. I am surrounded by amazing friends and a huge wonderful family.
Now that I've turned 58 - at least it feels that way - I'm researching anti-aging skincare creams and will let you all know which one I choose to use next. Most likely a good cosmeceutical brand.
Tata for now!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Lady Chatterly's Lover - never read it, liking it a lot
I'm so happy I can listen to Christmas songs now! Happiness
Because of the heat I am loving all types of cold salads, caprese kebabs, niçoise salad, things like that
Iced tea, iced coffee, iced anything and everything. Also, I made the world's most delish sangria yesterday with chardonnay, brandy, white grape juice, guarana soda (a drop), fresh plums and cherries. Heaven! It tastes like I Heart Dior smells - fuity happiness
Putting up my Christmas tree tomorrow - oh joy!
Saw the new Harry Potter yesterday and it was awesome - buenos tiempos indeed
It is with a heavy heart that I write today as the news of the parting of one of my favorite actors has reached me only moments ago. If you follow this blog you know how I feel about Leslie Nielsen. He has brought so much laughter and happiness to so many. He will be missed.
It is impossible to talk about his greatness without mentioning his greatest achievement - super silly movies. To recall his lines in Airplane, Wrongfully Accused and Naked Gun is to get a glimpse into the man who made the most ordinary phrases fantastic. Hollywood will be hard-pressed to find a replacement for him.
When I need serious cheering up there is no amount of meditation, deep breathing, or what-have-you that will do the trick as quickly as a few minutes of quality time with my good friend Leslie who has never let me down. I don't remember where I was when the Berlin wall came down - who does? But I do remember where I was when I first watched The Creature Wasn't Nice and Dracula - Dead and Loving It. Do you remember the last question on your last test in high school? No. But I'll bet you remember what Frank Drebin read when he was trying to wake everyone up at the President's dinner in Naked Gun 2 1/2.
We say goodbye to a great hero this week. I raise my glass to you Leslie Nielsen - May you rest in peace, you beautiful cotton-haired bastard!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving is nearly upon us and while the spirit of this wonderful American holiday remains very much American in theme, we all choose to celebrate it in the Roman fashion - stuffing ourselves beyond reason then falling asleep because there is no way we could ever get up and walk away.
For me at least, it's a time to reflect on whether or not I want to do this 2 or 3 more times - in lesser or equal volume - over the Christmas holidays. The answer is an unequivocal no, but due to all the tryptophan in the turkey I not only get sleepy, I also have selective memory loss and forget what it all entails and move forward with the ridiculous obstinacy of a 2 year old only to be surprised at the amount of work and stress I've brought upon myself.
Albert Einstein once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. By this logic I would say that I'm insane. Completely out of my mind. You know why? - because even though I know I'm going to be cooking and cleaning and spending like a freak, my hands will be reduced to nubs and stubs, my bank account a punchline, and my house a three ring circus, I'm still going to do it and hope that the outcome is different because I love seeing my family, especially all the siblings I don't see often as they live in different countries and states. We're a majorly loud and obnoxious bunch with a very peculiar sense of humor and I love it.
So I'm going to face this first of several holidays, rally, and go forth with my golden helmet of Mambrino and my lance and charge that windmill giant that is the Christmas holiday season at full speed. Oorah!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
So as it turns out, I make stuff up. I didn't realize I was such a major Pinocchio fibber, but like the guy in Big Fish, apparently I need help. Very specific memories from my childhood have turned out to be nothing more than the overactive imagination of a ridiculous child. Go figure.
I remember hearing a story my Majah used to tell us about how my Dad rescued her from some pervy rapist Moroccans in Holland. I retold this story numerous times and every time it sounded more and more like an action film starring Vin Diesel. A while back we were having one of our rowdy Sunday lunches and I asked Majah to tell the story and it was so different from mine that I couldn't tell it was the same story. Somehow when I heard it as a child I imagined it as well and my fertile mind went wild. Mother gave me an inch and I took a friggin' league. I was disappointed, but I survived.
Today I found out that once again I just made stuff up and convinced myself it was fact and passed it off to others as truth. Many years ago, about 100 to be exact, I was 5 yrs old and very impressionable. We lived in the south of Brazil, I had a mutt named Canela (Cinnamon) and an old fusca my brother and I converted into our club house. We both shared a bicycle and we were forced to eat the most awful food imaginable because my Majah was a devout follower of Adelle Davis - the cruelest woman alive. I'm talking orange juice with brewer's yeast cruel. So far, so true.
Somehow I got it into my pea brain that my Fajah drew cartoon strips for an erotic magazine. I remember my brother and I messing around in his office and finding things that confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that my father made a living by drawing sex stuff. Say it ain't so. Fine, it ain't so. My father was not working for an erotic magazine, did not sit around drawing sex stuff and was not Vin Diesel. Is there any truth to anything I remember? As it turns out, Fajah worked for a magazine with varied subjects - non of which were sex related - and mostly drew political cartoons and on occasion a couple making out or so, but there was no nakedness and definitely no porn.
Now I find myself questioning everything. Like, did Fajah rescue me from a drunken bum who tried to grab me late one night when I was on his shoulders and we passed by a bar. In my recollection he punched the living daylights out of him - which wasn't difficult since he was so drunk. Then he walked into a phone booth, changed into his leggings and cape and flew me to safety. Well, the first part about punching the drunk guy at least has to be true, right? Right?
I've been in a bit of a funk lately. It has not only influence my normal everyday life, it has also effected my creativity. Things that would normally not bother me have been getting under my skin - or just downright pissing me off. On the one hand an innocent bystander could say that I have lost it, on the other hand however, the issue could be everyone else and not me at all.
Several times over the last few weeks I have had blogworthy experiences that I've ignored because I just knew I wouldn't hit the mark - far from it, I'm pretty certain I would bore you all to tears. For example, I watched Eat Pray Love. Did you watch Eat Pray Love? Well, I did - snore. If I'm being fair I will point out that her trip to Italy was very enjoyable. It was fun, delicious and very Julia. The rest of the movie however was boring. The whole story revolved around an overly needy, ridiculous American who refused to be happy even though she really had no cause for discontent. Even when faced with less fortunate individuals, having a wonderful dream job, friends and family who love her, she insisted on being a drag. In Brazil we have an expression for people like her - mala sem alça. It means a suitcase without a handle - very difficult to carry, a dead weight.
I decided not to blog about it when I realized that all of my friends and sisters enjoyed the movie immensely and only had good things to say. For the sake of clarification I'm going to let you know now that my friends and sisters were not referring to the book which from what I hear is a whole new world of exploitation of the needy, divorced, unhappy middle aged woman. An adventure into mediocre writing and lack-wit mush. Having been forcibly subjected to the ocean of stupid that was The Shack I have stayed away from all overhyped books like the plague.
Having said that, I urge you all to watch it, because from what I gather I am alone in this belief and need to be institutionalized. I feel like Elaine Bennes when she watchet the English Patient on Seinfeld and hates it and then ends up losing her job and getting shunned from polite society, ostracized and made to feel less than mentally sane because of it. Favorite line in that episode: Die already! Just shut up and die! Hilarious.
I'll ask you all to bear with me as I try to find my way back to faithful blogging and being awesome again.
A bit of good news though - William has officially asked Kate to marry him and gave her his mother's beautiful ring. A wedding is soon coming and if it's anything like Charles and Diana's we're in for a real treat. I remember watching it on TV as a child - it was a magical, surreal, fairytale wedding that the world will not soon forget.
Tata for now!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I have just fallen in deep, deep love after seeing this on the Lancome Blog. Now I just need to find it, or more realistically, it's doppelganger. Mission accepted. I'm going to find it's evil twin and then post my find here.
Question, is it weird that I just don't feel the whole green nail polish thing? I feel left out, what with everyone still talking about Jade, but really, no me gusta. What about usted?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
It's not that the movie wasn't great, "Nothing to write home about", "I've seen better", or "It's a one-timer". In fact, had it been any of the above I probably wouldn't be wasting precious megabytes writing about it. The movie was in fact a fantastic suckfest. A giant poo on the glorious peaks of Summit Entertainment. A triumphant belly flop into the pool of mediocrity.
Am I being too harsh? I don't think so. The movie is uniquely ridiculous. There is no redeeming element.
The plot is absurd and stupid. Summary: Nicolas Cage - and his weird pervert hair - is a lonely and troubled widower raising a very cute child who the writer felt needed a hearing aid, even though he hears well without it and it's not instrumental in any way to the story. He's a good father, but drinks like he's trying to prove something. Oh, he's also a professor at MIT. His son's elementary school digs up a time capsule from 50 years earlier and one of the sealed envelopes contains a series of numbers which he later discovers are dates to major disasters in the world in the last 50 years, as well as the number of people killed in them, written by one of the kids in the class (50 yrs ago). So far, so good.
There are creepy albino stalkers who look like they fell out of the Matrix and who don't speak but just stare at the children and whisper in a really creepy way. The movie actually calls them the "whisper people". There's eerie music, visions, scurrying about frantically, major catastrophes, etc. The movie has a forced spooky element for a while.
Then, out of nowhere the story takes a seriously wrong turn and develops into new age vomit. It's like it was written by either 1 person with multiple personalities, or several people with 1 personality each. It's loco. There is an end-of-the-world warning, no way to save mankind, unnecessary death of a mother, kids abandoning parents to go on a space ship with the creepy whisper and stare people who turn out to be beings of energy from another planet with energy wings...so they're alien energy angels? The whole scene is messed up. They take rabbits with them, and I imagine - although it's not mentioned - samples of species from the planet. Then the kids take off in a Fortress of Solitude looking space ship with the energy fairies and the world burns up in a solar flare along with Nicolas Cage and everyone else.
Later it shows the 2 kids on the planet they were deposited in by the Fortress of Solitude alien energy angel fairies running towards what looks like the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil - eh? Question: isn't it dangerous to have 2 kids all alone on a bogus planet that looks like coral reefs in pastel colors along with a bunch of sample species? Come lunch time it won't look like some old washed up hippie's tripped out idea of heaven anymore, will it?
I'm thinking that before I set aside good dish washing and floor scrubbing time to watch anything written by Ryne Douglas Pearson (yep, I researched the writer so I could be advised for next time and to warn all of you - you're welcome), I'm going to make sure there are no urgent diapers that need to be changed, or garbage to be taken out, roads to asphalt in 40°C heat - and I suggest you do the same. While we're at it, let's throw in the director as well, Alex Proyas. What was he thinking?
This brings me to the most important question of all: How does one go about getting a massive flop like Knowing made into a movie, convince a director, studio, and top actors to sign on, and most of all, investors to put in money? $50 million, to be exact. Either this is a case like "The Producers" where they needed a flop for tax purposes, or someone sold their soul to the Satan (you know what I think). This is not the work of intelligent or enlightened minds. This is the work of really weird people who drink "special" tea and eat "special" mushrooms, followed by "special" acid trips -- or just your regular garden variety crazies.
Bottom line: DON'T.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Our Presidential elections are coming up and while normally this would be a momentous and joyous occasion, in this particular instance, this particular year, we are officially optionless. I would like to say that the political parties of my beloved homeland know what they're doing, make intelligent decisions, and are composed of the most extraordinary minds in the country - but sadly this is not the case.
Our options for President of the Republic at present are: a bumbling fool of an idiot and a terrorist/thief/liar - Serra and Dilma.
The bitter truth is that the political parties of Brazil are a collection of mishmash losers, a hodgepodge of grumpy old men with either nothing better to do killing time between one thing and another, bouncing about from party to party with no loyalty or conviction of their own, or more likely - and I'm not making this up - fleeing from the law. There is a law here that states that if you run for a position in the government you cannot be indicted. So naturally, hoards of fools and idiots cling to whatever they can find, any party that will let them in - and parties are not choosy - to ward off the law, stall and keep the dogs at bay for as long and stupidly possible.
Unfortunately there is no law against stupidity in government, so the honored seats of our Senate and nearly every seat in government is occupied by the most mind-numbingly stupid people Brazil has had the misfortune to breed. There should be a list of mandatory qualities candidates and persons in government must have including, but not limited to:
- The minimum IQ needed to successfully fulfill their duties in office
- Must have the moral qualities of a productive and educated human being
- Is expected to function properly in public and be socially adept
- Must not have a criminal record of any kind, and/or audio/video recordings of blatant corruption, any and all illegal and illicit activities regardless of whether they have been charged and/or convicted of the crimes
- Must not be a thief, liar, terrorist or bitch
- Must not own castles and monuments or any type of grotesque displays of disrespect to the taxpayer's blood, sweat and tears
- Must be admired by at least one intelligent person
That being said, I may not be so rash as to ask for asylum in another country as was suggested recently by a columnist in the most successful newspaper in the country, but it does really make you wonder if this is all a sick, sick joke someone's playing on us while they bust a gut laughing so hard.
Is it really possible that there is no one, not one good man or woman in this whole country that is qualified for the job and is willing to do it?
In the words of the dork on The League - best show ever - quoting Chad Ochocinco, "Child, please" - watch here.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
I picked up a romance novel the other day because the title of the book is, When He Was Wicked by Julia Quinn. Call me crazy, but the title lead me to believe there were be stories, tales, tidbits, morsels - if you will - of someone being wicked.
There weren't. Not a one.
The "wicked" character in the book starts off from the very first page not being wicked. In fact, he is responsible, sensible, and respectful. Yuck. If I wanted to read a book about someone like that I would have chosen a book titled The Saint. Basic outline: the character is in love with his cousins wife, so he pines, yearns and broods the pages away like a lovesick puppy visibly drooling every time this "vision of grace and elegance" walks into the room. Total yawnfest. The only time there is any mention of him being wicked is when he's feeling sorry for himself and thinking, "Things were so much easier.....when I was wicked". The author actually tries to insert the word "wicked" here and there to justify the title but it's misplaced and weird.
Where is the wickedness? Argh. I feel like the person in the funk song "Tell me something good" - because this book, well, how can I put it - is not good. I find it odd that there are so many glowing reviews on Amazon - very misleading. Julia Quinn is not her usual self in this book, the characters are meh, and overall it was neither fun nor funny. That's a problem for me, because I usually read these books because they're fun or because I find them hilarious. So, this gets a 1 star rating from me.
So in summary, my complaint is: he was not wicked, no one was wicked, where is Jilly Cooper's Rupert Cambell-Black when you need him?
It's been a while since we talked about makeup. I wanted to talk about some new super products I have been using and am very pleased with. The first is something I buy every year when the weather starts to warm up and that's blue mascara. I usually go with Dior or Bourjois, but this year I went with Benefit's Bad Gal Lash in blue. This is a darker blue than I'm used to and because of this it is a perfect addition to one's makeup all year round. It doesn't scream blue right off the bat, but it does enhance the loveliness of my eyes and there is a definite hue de blue. I think this is a perfect mascara for any eye color, and anyone. If you're shy about using colored mascara, give this a go.
The other product - and I cannot rave enough about it - is Benefit Powderflage. There is some controversy regarding the efficacy of this product. It's advertised as a subtle highlighter, it's not. I don't see any highlighting benefits at all. On the other hand, it does what no product has done before - it sets under eye concealer perfectly. And I mean perfectly. I hate when concealer creases under my eyes and I think this is an overall concern with everyone. There is no concealer on earth that will stay crease-free all day without a little help. Powderflage is all the help it needs. Example: I have a friend who layers her concealer like it's going out of style because she has serious bags under her eyes. She uses Kriolan concealer (super highly pigmented stuff) and still needs to layer. So when I did her makeup for her mother's wedding I applied Powderflage in between each of the layers. The result - magic. For the whole evening which included dancing, eating, laughing. making out and getting drunk, her concealer didn't budge. Not once. True story.
Last but not least, the lovely, lovely Thrrrob - also by Benefit. It adds the perfect amount of flush to the cheeks. Beautiful, discreet, sexy, and worth every penny. It contains more product (double most blushes on the market).
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Love this look, love the do, love everything. Read the article here. I believe I have to add a product to my Must-Have list....
Oh, and this has nothing to do with anything, but you know that super cute movie, High Society, with Grace Kelly, Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra? Isn't it adorable? It's a perfect rainy Saturday afternoon movie.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
I love, love the scent of the iris flower and more specifically, iris root, so whenever I hear of an iris fragrance, new or old, I run to check it out. I had heard many things about Ferré by Gianfranco Ferré but it was always difficult to find in stores. After a long and rather impatient wait I came face to face with the scent that enrich my life and fill it with all kinds of happiness.
This perfume is everything an iris perfume should be. It's transparent, crisp, but at the same time has a sensous depth. When you put it on it envelopes you - I love that. It kind of becomes part or your aura, the perfume-y word for that is sillage. It's so feminine and sweet without being cloying or pink and annoying like so many sweet perfumes are today. The notes are a mix of fruit and flowers, but not done in the boring modern fruity-floral classification of today. No, there is a harmony here and every element works together to make it the kind of scent that can easily be worn every day, or for a romantic dinner, a signature fragrance, the sky's the limit. Just stunning. A keeper.
Ferré includes notes of bergamot, iris leaves, honeydew melon, pineapple, freesia, iris petals, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, magnolia, basmati rice, Florentine iris root, amber, vanilla.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Still doing the silly romance books because they're fun and I've been working hard so I need time to decompress, this is the best thing.
Been using Diorella and Chanel 19 more than my other ones lately. Still waiting for the perfect occasion to use Iris Silver Mist. Don't know if there is an occasion worthy of it...
Still in love with Rimmel Sexy Curves. I found a new brand (well recently relaunched and redone to perfection) of makeup by Brazilian makeup artist Duda Molinos. I'm loving the eyeshadows. Super finely milled, really pigmented and an amazing array of colors.
Last week I got really pissed about a bunch of things involving basic issues like lack of trust in the workplace, evil corporations and Satanic clients. HRH came home and saw the state I was in and promptly whisked me away to our favorite little place nearby. My spirits were instantly lifted confirming what I have long suspected: there is nothing a good bottle of wine, cheese and a sympathetic husband won't cure.
I've been a bit slow to finish the series Spartacus: Blood and Sand because HRH made me promise to watch it with him and then we had to wait to get our hands on the episodes so I only just finished it. Wow. It's hard core but I love it. In episode 9 (I think) where Spartacus gets covered in gold for his encounter with Licinia/Ilithyia and the whole "encounter" scene ....... I think my heart actually stopped. I forgot to breathe, passed out. I don't know if I'll every recover from that. Holy Santos!
I've been working on getting rid of old things from my kitchen and getting new things that represent. It'll take me a while to get through the list, but I've found one thing I'll need to put on my Wish List and get it hopefully sometime next year (because they want to charge me the moon for it). What do you think? Is it the most beautiful set you've ever seen? What I most want from it is the coffee set, but now I'm thinking maybe the complete set should be on my wish list.... the coffee set at least is so chic and masculine, it's positively presidential. And HRH is the one that's all into coffee, it's gotta be a masculine set, not frilly and gay.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
I'm not sure if you all watch cooking shows, but me lovey! Top Chef is addictive and so is MasterChef Australia. I found out last week that a new show just aired, MasterChef USA, and I was able to catch a couple of episodes. Right off the bat the differences between the the US and Aussie versions are loud and clear - screaming in fact. For one, the main host is none other than the foul mouthed hard ass, Gordon Ramsey. This should give you a pretty good idea of the level of harsh.
When I first started watching MasterChef Australia one of the first things I noticed was how supportive and encouraging the contestants were with each other and the judges with the contestants as well. Instead of the bitchy bickering and backstabbing found in Top Chef, the Australian contestants were happy to be together and were competing alongside each other as opposed to against each other. The judges seemed like they wanted the contestants to succeed, which is weird and I've never seen it before in any cooking or competition show. It was a breath of fresh air. When someone left it was a sad experience, but at the same time, not the end of the line. It seems to me that overall they changed many people's lives and helped them to realize their dreams with or without the title of MasterChef. I'm positive many of them left the MasterChef kitchen inspired to continue pursuing their dream and not devastated and finished.
Not so much MasterChef USA. From what I can see so far, the ones that leave there will leave with their spirits crushed and possibly suicidal. I'm sure there are cultural differences to take into consideration, as well as what makes thrills the audience. America loves to see Gordon screaming obscenities and spit at lowly losers, throwing kitchen utensils, gagging on their food, and if permitted I'm sure there would be some slapping going on as well.
On the other hand, there is something to be said for his passion about food, and his honesty. When he really does believe in someone, when he sees potential and promise he doesn't measure efforts in making sure they are given the tools and opportunity they need/deserve in order to prove their worth. Having his support is very much like having Simon Cowell's - it's all you need. When all is said and done, the Paula's and Randy's are good for your self esteem and a comfy shoulder to cry on, but their opinion isn't worth as much as the Simon's - he hates everyone and only just likes the awesome ones.
We'll see how it goes, but so far I'm loving the Aussie one better. You never can tell though. On a related topic but different show - I was friggin' shocked that Kenny was kicked off on the last TopChef episode. I did not see that one coming and in my humble opinion, they made a big mistake. Amanda should have gone home for overcooking her meat. Overcooked meat is vile and a very good reason to send someone packing.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
I just recently watched North and South - a BBC miniseries based on the novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. It is amazing. I was expecting to like it, but I love, love, love it!
It's the story of a young woman from the quiet and picturesque South who goes with her family to live in the industrious North. There she meets interesting characters and is faced with a reality she had no idea existed when she befriends a humble working class family who work in the cotton mills of the town she now lives in, Milton. She makes snap judgments about an important business man (and love of my life!), owner of one of the largest mills there, as she constantly sees him in unflattering and out-of-context situations. She is a bit harsh and unforgiving - and a bit stuck up - at first (such a whore). At the same time, her actions are often misinterpreted as she has no idea of what is socially acceptable there and seems to make many mistakes of her own in her interactions with the humble residents of Milton.
The characters are beautifully cast, the story is wonderfully compelling, a must-see for anyone who loves romance, drama, amazing production and acting. The male character played by Richard Armitage - be still my heart - is so charming and powerful. He's a "brooding" type of hero and will melt even the most cold-hearted spinster (you know who you are). If you get a chance look it up and give it a go. It's so worth it!
Some of my favorite moments are when Mr. Thornton says to Margaret as she's leaving: "Turn back. Turn back and look at me". And then there's another moment where he says: "Are you coming home with me?" - OMG - mi corazón.
Here's the trailer:
Friday, August 6, 2010
You know that moment right before one of your closest friends gives you the perfume of your life? You know that moment right before she says, "This is for you", and hands you Serge Lutens' masterpiece Iris Silver Mist...? Have you ever experienced such a moment? I have. It was a couple of weeks ago but I remember it like it was yesterday.
Right before it happened there was a calm, a quiet, a reverence, if you will. The birds hushed, the dog settled, everyone and everything held their breath for a split second. Then I saw it. Coming towards me was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I heard myself take a sharp intake of breath, but it was like I was looking at myself from outside of my body - a surreal experience. The first thing I saw was the grey box. Next thing I knew the cellophane wrapping was off and I was smelling, for only the second time in my life, the most beautiful, haunting, melancholic, reverent scent I have ever smelled in my life - Iris Silver Mist.
To say that Maurice Roucel (possibly with the collaboration of Christopher Sheldrake) is a genius and a should have at least one, if not several, altars built in his honor is an understatement. It is the creation of a lifetime. Once you create something like this, it's all downhill from there. Meaning, whatever you do, make, accomplish after that, is gravy, an afterthought.
While I would like to be able to review this and put you all in a perfume, iris induced trance, I cannot do better than those who have gone before me. For this reason I direct you to Victoria at Bois de Jasmin and and Robin at Now Smell This who will hypnotize you with their eloquence and just fascinatingly beautiful reviews that respect and represent the magical, otherworldly jewel that is....Iris Silver Mist.
I don't know if you realized this yet, but the purpose of this post was just to brag and say that I now have in my possession a full bell jar of Les Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido exclusive - Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist - I am both honored and humbled (not really) to be part of this exclusive club.
Monday, July 26, 2010
This weekend I did so much I don't know where to begin. I think I'll skip it all and go straight to the real highlight - food.
Yesterday I made Sunday lunch for everyone here and for my brother and his fiance. He gifted me with a delicious book with all the traditional French recipes you could ever hope to have so I started working my way through it this weekend. All the dishes served were from the book except one. Our starter was steak tartare with toast, the main course was pan fried flounder with a buerre blanc caper sauce, potatoes au gratin and snow peas. Dessert was a capuccino mousse served in tea cups and saucers with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon and a chocolate stick. Trés chic.
I have eaten steak tartare many times before and have always liked it, but nothing compared to the one I made yesterday. It is beyond crave-worthy and the type of dish that will keep you up at night dreaming. Even my teenage son who is not in the least an adventurous eater loved it. It's very clean, fresh and delicate.
The recipe I ended up making is adapted from Saveur magazine. I couldn't find one recipe that had all the elements I needed, so I made the necessary changes
2 egg yolks
1 1/2 tbs dijon mustard
2 tsp worcestershire sauce
5 dashes of tabasco sauce
3-4 tbs fresh lemon juice
Olive oil (about 3 tbs)
Salt and pepper to taste
450 gr. filet mignon
1 heaping tbs very finely chopped chives (just the white part)
4 small cornichons chopped finely (small pickles)
3 tsp chopped capers
1 tbs chopped parsley
1. Whisk egg yolks, ketchup, mustard, lemon juice, worcestershire, and Tabasco in a large bowl until smooth. Gradually whisk in oil to create a mayonaise that is smooth and not too thick. Salt and pepper to taste. - I ended up only using half of my "mayonaise" so you could easily cut my quantities in half.
2. Slice beef into thin pieces with a very sharp knife and then chop again, and again, and again. If you want you can use 2 knives and work it Asian style. The pieces have to be crazy small, but they cannot ever be ground - must be chopped by hand. It's the rule.
3. Add the onions, cornichons, capers, and parsley, and mix gently until everything is incorporated. Add more salt if you need, or anything else you think may be missing. Put into 2 ramekins, turn over on to a plate, granish and serve. It's traditionally served with french fries or toast, my fave is toast.
- Next time I may try using soy sauce intead of worcestershire, although I'm not sure yet. We'll see.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
For the last few days I've been just barely functional. My glasses broke and because I'm a stupid I hadn't yet gotten my spares fixed so I was basically walking around like Mr. Magoo making mistakes the a monkey wouldn't make. Until you lose part of your eyesight you take for granted simple things like lines and dots, the difference between a 3 and 7, one shoe and another, your apartment and the neighbor's - you get the picture.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
As I lay on the waxing table being horrifically tortured by a she-devil named Fabiana I was trying to decide what was worse: the excrutiating pain or my mortification at the humiliating position I was in (I'll let your imagination take that one for a spin) - for a long, long (what seemed like endless days) period of time. I tried desperately to go to my happy place, but it just wasn't working. This is when I began to ask myself the serious questions, the existential ones, the ones that change your life forever.
Could Evolution be the great truth and Creation the fib?
Christians, bear with me a while before blocking my blog from your reading list.
The question I asked myself was: why would a God, a deity of any kind, purposely create (in His own likeness, I might add) a being that is delicate, beautiful, graceful and the representation of all that is pure and wonderful in the world - the female - why would God create this creature and then at the very end say, "There's something missing....hmmm...I know! I'll put hair - everywhere!" The whole thing screams diabolical joke to me, and I have a few guesses about who was involved -- Satan, perhaps?
I try to understand the cockamimi poo they feed us about how body hair is there for protection, puh-lease - does anyone really believe that? Women the world over are ripping out body hair from the roots, tweezing, plucking, pouring molten lava all over themselves in a desperate attempt to rid themselves of this "much needed" protection. We live our lives perfectly protected without it, thank you. Which brings me back to my original question - we don't need it, we don't want it, it's yuck - so why is it there?
Personally I think it makes much more sense that cosmic randomness, big bang caca, monkey ancestor baloney, is the cause of all this hooey. It's really the only logical explanation and makes the degrading monthly visits almost endurable. It's a mistake. No one meant for this to happen. You're bleeding from your hair folicles because the universe is wack - not because someone put it there on purpose. You see? Do you feel better now? - Not really.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The other day I was at the book store and there was a fantastic array of Penguin classics. It's always exciting to see rows and rows of books, any one of which would make for hours of entertainment and good times. For the first time in a long time I saw not one but several Shakespear plays there. As I looked through them looking for ones I wanted to re-read I saw a title that has inexplicably escaped me all these many years - As You Like It.
(It's really embarrassing for me to admit this, so I hope you'll appreciate what a huge deal it is that I'm blogging about it. The only reason I am is because I feel it is quite blogworthy and something I shouldn't keep to myself.)
I picked it up and read the back and it sounded like so much fun I added it to my pile. The story is about 2 girls (cousins) who end up living in a forest after an evil duke (and father of one them) takes over and exiles the cousin (the other girl and daughter of his rival). They disguise themselves and one of them dresses as a boy - confusion and poetry ensue, good times, yada yada.
I found out later that the great Kenneth Branagh adapted the play to film starring Alfred Molina, Bryce Dallas Howard, Kevin Kline, and of course all the usual suspects who end up in all Shakespeare/Branagh films. The film is fun and diverting and a perfect bit of entertainment for a rainy Saturday afternoon. I love finding little unedpected treasures like this, don't you?
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday night I was finally able to go to the cinema to watch The Young Victoria. I know it doesn't sound like much, but if you only knew what I had to go through to get the girls together for this my opening line would carry much more weight.
The whole outing was super fun. In the end there were 4 of us (the only ones worthy of this movie and Prince Albert, so it worked out well). After dinner, cappuccinos and wandering around the mall it was time for the movie to begin. I had read reviews and knew I was going to like it - but love it? Yes, dear readers, I loved it! Quel masterpiece!
It's a beautiful, romantic story that leaves nothing to be desired. The acting is superb, the costume and set design alone make it worth watching and Prince Albert is a dream. Emily Blunt is everything we hope Victoria was. I believe she did history proud.
After the movie we were all walking on cloud nine. Just so you have an idea of the "cinema romance" high we were on, our conversation went something like this:
Flor: When I get home, I'm going to slap HRH across the face and before he knows what hit him or why I'll say, "Why can't you be more like Prince Albert? What's wrong with you?"
Greti: I'm going to make James watch this movie 10 thousand times to train him how to be like Prince Albert.
Tati: (Still weeping desperately 15 minutes after the movie is over) Prince Albert is now my reason for living. I want Prince Albert!
Angie: (very much the killjoy) I wonder if Prince Albert jumping in front of the bullet is historically accurate?
Tati and Flor in unison: IT'S ACCURATE!!
BTW, it is accurate - although they don't know if Prince Albert was injured by the assassination attempt or not. See this link for more info - in case you're curious.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Last night we got together with some friends of ours we hadn't seen in years even though we live in the same city. Our lives don't intersect ever. So weird. Another good friend who is visiting Rio with her sister was there last night and told us all about her adventures in Copacabana. This is the one story from last night I thought was worth recounting - in my own words, of course.
It's seems that late one night she was walking along the beach with some friends when they saw a happening little place. They sat down at a table and ordered some drinks when they realized that they were in a popular pick up joint for class C prostitutes. A regular buffet of what's what and the who's who in the Copacabana hooker scene.
The boys were showing some interest, but most of all curiosity. Being boys they were too shy to engage in conversation so my friend, let's call her Tess, went up to a woman she thought was beautiful and represented the best the place had to offer. After talking to her for a bit she decided to get some of the nitty gritty details of what a transaction entails. The pro Tess was talking to was one of the more expensive ones and charged a fixed price per night, with everything included for a spectacular night of unbridled, paid for, possibly safe, but definitely fun, passion. Others there charged by the hour and their basic package didn't include the special items/positions/requests - you get the picture.
In order to break the language barrier (their business is all about catering to tourists) some of the more enterprising young women had portfolios with color photographs of the pleasures they offered and how much each one cost. So you could literally flip through a catalog of unique and kinky (also pretty dirty), and choose what you were in the mood for.
After conducting a thorough investigation of the carnal workings of the Brazilian women of the night they decided it was time to leave before they'd be asked to pay something for taking up so much of their time and not closing the deal.
What a sensational bit of dinner party conversation. Makes you want to go out and do things you wouldn't normally do just so you can have a juicy story to impress your friends - or shock your parents and relatives with at family gatherings where old people are present. BTW Tess, I'm stealing your story and from now on I'm telling it in the first person.
Monday, June 28, 2010
I may or may not ever recover from the things I'm reading. I remember a time when I didn't know these things - those were the days of innocence - ignorance is indeed bliss. I think the sky looked bluer, children's laughter was sweeter, popcorn was crunchier and water quenched my thirst. It's all different now. Nothing will ever be the same, but unfortunately I cannot stop reading it. I am vested in it and have to see it through - plus, she hasn't finished killing everyone on her list yet.
Let this post serve as a disclaimer for any woman thinking of reading this book.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
-Reading an awesome book about revenge. It's one of those novels set in a time that doesn't exist, in places that aren't real, with names that have never been. A fantasy novel. It's called Best Served Cold. In this book a mercenary turned general of an army finds herself in a dangerous position when she is more feared, respected and adored than her leader. Having risen from nothing and become everything she is much loved by the people as one of their own and a great threat to the Grand Duke. So he kills her and her brother....or does he? She servives, barely, unbeknownst to all, and wakes stitched up Frankenstein style with the taste of blood in her mouth. Throughout the book she has a very specific list of people she needs to kill and hires a specialized crew to help her do it. Joe Abercrombie is a very good writer, although I have to say the writing is a bit raw, if you know what I mean.
-Trying out my new eyeshadows. I bought some Sleek eyeshadows from the UK , they arrived Tuesday, and am very pleased with the color pay off, range of colors, texture and durability. Amazing value for money. Eyeshadow is one of those things I always say you don't have to spend tons on so long as they meet your standards and needs. I detest colors that are too sheer. I want intense and vibrant colors, not the wishy-washy sheer pastel crap we used to get in our Barbie dress up sets as kids.
-Hanging out with friends from a lifetime ago. Two good friends I met during my South American travels are visiting and we've had a great time catching up and doing things they don't usually do. I took them to get their hair highlighted (balayage style - a delicate kind of highlight that looks very natural and celebrity-ish) and Brazilian bikini waxed (for the first time!). At my salon (the one I wrote about) you can highlight, get a moisture treatment and a blowout for $70. Crazy awesome prices! - and my colorist is a color sensei.
-Watching the new season of Top Chef. Am I nuts because I was sad to see crazy dreadlock guy go home? I really liked him. He had that kind of easy-going I'm-perpetually-high type personality that's so endearing in a bum, terrible teeth, matted ugly dreadlocks, and coke bottle thick glasses. A trainwreck to look at, but a total sweetheart. It's silly, I know, but I was almost depressed at the end of the first episode. I wanted to give him a hug. I hope the second one is better. On the upside, I love, love, love that Eric Ripert is a judge this season!
-Thinking about how time passes. My son just turned 16 on Tuesday and I honestly don't know where the years have gone. It seems like only yesterday I was holding him for the first time - it also seems like 2 incarnations ago. So weird. I looked in the mirror this morning and saw an old hag staring back at me with medusa hair - time flies and it doesn't usually work in your favor.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Winter is upon us - well as much of a winter as we're ever going to get - but I get excited about it anyway. It's finally time for stews and "sweaters" and cozy evenings drinking wine. In preparation for the winter season I bought new huge wine glasses, pulled out my fluffly slippers, my fluffy throw blanket, and my winter perfumes.
As I look at my collection I realize that it has grown since last year, but more towards summer scents than winter. I did however make a very special addition to my collection which is good all year round, but probably works best in cooler months, SL Sa Majeste la Rose.
The perfumes that have been singing to my heart most are the following:
Guerlain Mitsouko - The most amazing oakmoss and peach scent. My favorite chypre of all times. This classy, beautiful and almost stuck up scent sets it apart from the mass of one note numbers lining the shelves these days. With all the pink and fruity bubble gum concoctions running rampant it is a breath of fresh air to be able to wear something that is unapologetic, and to most, unrecognizable.
Guerlain L'Heure Bleue - My other favorite Guerlain. I don't know which one I like more. This perfume is melancholy and beautiful. It really does evoke the "blue hour" which is dusk, right before the sun is competely down and the moon comes up. This perfume has one of my very favorite notes in it, iris. The iris is mixed with anise, jasmin and the famous Guerlain base called Guerlinade (tonka bean, vanilla and awesomeness). I love the powderiness as well. I like powdery perfumes. Some people say they smell like old ladies, who cares? If they're fancy ass old ladies who wear Guerlain, it's not an insult to say I smell like one.
SL Sa Majeste la Rose - Roses dipped in honey. That's what I get from this. Pure, classic, modern, loud, soft, gorgeous. It's a seamless blend where all the players get a share of the glory, but the rose is the queen - always.
SL Fumerie Turque - Smokey vanilla, tabacco and honey wood with a touch of rose and amber in a leather purse. It's an elixir. I love, love, love it.
Kenzo Amour le Parfum - I have written time and again of my love for this perfume. I belive I've said enough. It is a gorgeous, not overly sweet, woody, deep, vanilla fragrance that warms my heart.
Al Nabha by Haramain - Rose and saffron. It's perfect for winter. It's deep, but not too deep. It's oudh and rose and saffron. It's meant to be used by men for prayer. They say it invokes peace and spiritual strength. Maybe. But I use it to fill my life with joy. Tons and tons of joy.
Armani Code (the old black box, grey bottle one - NOT the new beige one-- ick!) - Pure incense. Lovely. I like to mix it with Al Nabha for the ultimate meditation scent.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
I have grey hair. Not a little, not one here or there. No, at least 50% of all my hair is grey. I've been dying my hair for years and years now, not because it's fashionable, but because I have to. This forces me to go once a month to the salon and get it done. No matter where you live in the world, you don't want to be spending all of your money covering up you grey, so I have been on the hunt for a salon that will meet my needs. I'm not that picky. What I want is a perfect dye job at the lowest possible price.
I've been scheduling every month with different professionals in different salons, but the reality is that I need something close to home, walking distance, and affordable, or I just won't do it as often as I need to. Yesterday I scheduled with a salon at a mall near my house. My sister and I joke that it's the place where stores go to die because it is so abandoned. Well, I discovered that it only looks that way because everyone is in the shops and most of the shops are salons. The place is actually booming. Very odd. Like everyone's in on the same joke, they all got the memo but you.
The other thing about this mall is that it's built like a maze. You walk in and immediately you have no idea how to get out. I really should have Hansl and Greteled my way around there, but sadly I didn't think of it. Needless to say, when I went looking for my salon I got lost. Really lost. Embarrassingly lost . You know how sometimes you don't want to look like the idiot walking around lost, or waiting for someone, so you pretend to be having a conversation on the phone so no one thinks your a friendless loser? Am I the only one that does that? Well, that's what I was doing to save face - thank God no one called me while I was fake talking on the phone - it's so embarrassing when that happens.
I finally did make an real call to my sister and we had a great time laughing at my predicament and lo and behold, while I was talking to her I found the place! Mi corazón sank when I saw it though. It was a dump. Small, dinky, old chairs and equipment - with the exception of one nice coffee machine.There were so many awesome salons all around them and I had to blindly choose the only loser place. As it turns out, after much searching and bouncing from one colorist to the next, I finally found the one who will do my hair every month. Her hands are magic. And although the place looked less than awesome, the products were high quality and the people were all very friendly and the environment was quite agreeable - Plus I paid next to nothing for one of the best dye jobs of my life. I walked out of there looking red carpet worthy.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
I love Katy Perry's hair and makeup here. This is the look she wore last Sunday to the MTV Movie Awards. It reminds me a bit of my Halloween '09 wig, only hers looks more brushed for some reason. Anyway, super fun, super Katy, and totally MTV. What do you think? Her dress was super short and her nails were bright yellow - how fun is that?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I just saw this and fell in love at first sight. It's beautiful and the color looks peachy/tan. So lovely. I want. I have the regular Lancome Tropiques Minerale Bronzer and I love, love, love it. It's my go to. I transfered my bronzer affections from Guerlain Terracotta to Tropiques Minerale. Now, I have to have the Bamboo one. Have. To.
This last weekend HRH took the kids and I to an Eco Resort about 5 hours away. It was amazing. I'm going to break it down for you like this:
The Place: huge property with lake, animal farm, vegetable garden, pools (normal, natural, and heated), sauna, spa, a million activities for the kids, all the courts you can imagine, lounge lawn (for real, there's a gorgeous grassy space with bed type sofas with huge umbrellas or veils that blow in the wind. I would lay there and read and drink - it's right next to the pool bar), several relaxation areas, bars, etc.
The Food: all naturally grown or raised on the property. What they don't have there they buy from the surrounding area. Everything is organic and superbly delish and fresh - so fresh. The food tasted different from anything we get here in the city. We had lamb, boar, pork, you name it. The milk, butter and cheese is all fresh and made there - yummy, so yummy. They had fresh lemongrass tea as well - one of my faves.
The Activities: the kids and HRH did so many things they were exhausted by the time night came along. Hiking to the farm area, tirolesa (I think called tyrolean crossing in English, not sure), 4 wheelers, horse back riding, high rope course, etc, etc, etc. Really fun. Plus there's a spa for us ladies.
We will definitely be going back next year and staying longer. We're thinking that like 5-7 days is good.
Check out these pics:
Check out this video of HRH on the tirolesa (tyrolean crossing?) - Turn the sound down, it's super loud: