What a comfortable apartment work has found me. And also the most unique. Let’s play a little I spy….
Can you find the mushroom? What about Christopher Columbus? What about a Jaguar emblem/part? Buddha? Turtle? Tin Tin?
The opposite wall includes a (fake) elephant head over the TV, a Rhino statue under a glass table, a Nutcracker, a sailboat, an abstract painting… What an interesting place to be living.
DC- check this out – charity, booze & music, $15: http://monumentfest.com/
DC Local Talent:
Samantha Harmonie
Songwriter, Singer, Guitarist
Experience:
Over ten years
Website:
http://www.reverbnation.com/samanthaharmonie
Brief Bio:
Samantha Harmonie is a talented singer, guitarist and songwriter in the Washington, DC area. Samantha has been singing and playing music or over 10 years and presents a unique, soulful and efficacious voice to today’s music scene.
Lately I’ve been in a quirky mood. I’ve been moving my furniture around, eating one too many blueberry bagels with butter from Crumbs and Coffee, and missing warmer weather. I’ve realized that there are a lot of special moments I haven’t caught up on in my blog, and perhaps my lack of writing has also made me restless.
In May of this year I ventured back to my roots, and missed the opportunity to write about Spain. Despite my unforgivable tardiness, I’d like to offer photographs of Madrid and San Sebastian to you, for eye candy and inspiration. It was another glorious two weeks of Spain, where I celebrated my college graduation and revisited old dear friends. I revisited Barcelona for the third time with my beloved Daniela Reyes, watched several sunsets, uncorked many wine bottles, felt the beach sand of San Sebastian in my fingers and toes, and even took a train ride into southern France for a long stroll down the Andalle southern beach.
It was all surreal, really. Everything was so unchanged, and yet here I was, so different. My largest fear leaving Madrid was that I would return to Spain and it would be a completely new place. It would have already forgotten me. The truth was, I was different. I had evolved. Madrid was still the same, and I was a new person. To look inward like this, and see your new reaction to things that were once so puzzling is a feeling I cannot explain. The only thing left to be the same in Madrid was my solidarity, walking on foot through the same streets I had come to love. I understood Madrid in a new way, but to this day am not so sure if I answered all of my lingering questions or unfulfilled memories there. I’m not so sure if I ever knew what those lingering questions or unfulfilled memories even were.
To sum it up, my most favorite parts of Madrid were: seeing old friends (my Spanish was rusty though! Eesh!), sneaking my way into Madrid’s Senate Chamber, and making big pasta meals with strangers in the hostel. My curling iron died here, however. RIP my sacred hair miracle worker…you have already been replaced, but I will miss you.
San Sebastian was a relief from my mixed feelings of Madrid. There is something about the ocean there and the tiny mountain bumps popping out of the water that enchanted me. I stayed in the warmest Hostel- Olga’s Place, and felt right at home. The beach was only a block away and Olga herself was a dear sweetheart. I met a few Australian guys that made me laugh endlessly. They were a bit younger than me, with an energy so addictive you couldn’t say no. The nights were carefree and hilarious. One evening we decided to race up el Monumento al Sagrado Corazon to catch the sunset over the ocean. We had all found straw hats in Olga’s house and each carried a bottle of wine on the way. Dan had spotted a large rock wall with small divots up the side and shouted, “AW MAN, it would be so Aussie to climb this rock right now,” instigating his inner native stereotype. After a failed attempt, it ended in erupting laughter. The night ended with a crowded Tapas bar full of locals and fresh seafood. 10 euros in and I could no longer breathe. I can honestly say I went Pintxo delirious in San Sebastian!
After San Sab, it was off to another familiar city.
Although I had been to Barcelona twice before, this was the first time I had ever actually done the tourist thing. I made sure to see everything. The last two times I traveled here were weekend trips and to visit a good friend, whom wanted to share with me the local side of Barcelona. I didn’t mind, but it was time to see some tourist glitter. Unfortunately, I don’t have photos of this. My camera died in San Sebastian, and like a very unprepared traveler, I forgot my camera battery.
My favorite moments in bcn:
1. Going to La Champagneria: You are only allowed to order una botella de cava here. Something like 3 or 5 euros buys you an entire bottle of pink champagne and two tapas. However, these aren’t like usual tapas. These are enormous sandwiches full of meat and peppers, enough to fill you whole. It is a local scene, and there we met the craziest Catalans that I’ve ever talked to. After about 3 or four bottles of champagne we almost burst. It was time to lay down.
2. Beach with Daniela: This girlfriend of mine will keep me laughing for hours. We met a man selling temporary tattoos and Daniela, being the most convincing woman I’ve ever known, persuaded the man to give us all free tattoos, and let us even give HIM a tattoo (which were her initials on his wrists, turning out to be two tipsy black blobs of ink). After telling us it was free he insisted that we pay for them, and by that time we were all entirely too confused so I just gave him whatever I had in my pocket.
3. Random Absinthe bar: After bouncing around to a few different places one night, Daniela remembered a random Absinthe bar in El Raval. “Here it is,” she said, as we walked up to a deserted metal pull down door. I thought to myself, what on earth? It’s obviously closed. She is trying to pull up a roller door…. Well, as the steel door rolled up, there sat a bright a lively bar, full of gente and tables, paintings and golden chandeliers. This bar was hands down the most obscure place I have ever been to in bcn. I believe it is Bar Marsella. Many websites say its been open since 1820 and gents like Picasso, Gaudi, Dali and Hemmingway have frequented there. One absinthe drink and the night was also over for me…
So, onward to some more photographs?
I just came across a hefty old desktop file full of cobwebs and rediscovered this quote given to me years ago as food for thought. Please enjoy!
From The History of Love:
“Having begun to feel, people’s desire to feel grew. They wanted to feel more, feel deeper, despite how much it sometimes hurt. People became addicted to feeling. They struggled to uncover new emotions. It’s possible that this is how art was born. New kinds of joy were forged, along with new kinds of sadness: The eternal disappointment of life as it is; the relief of unexpected repriece; the fear of dying. Even now, all possible feelings do not yet exist. There are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written, or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom, or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges, and absorbs the impact.”
Sundays are shaping up as easy breezy. With the patio out, I’m making a decent living, but it’s not as hectic as beer spewing Fridays and server sweat and tears.. Sundays are quaint, mid-30 folk that can hold their alcohol and search for good conversation. What age am I again? ha..
Last night I met my role model. A young woman who graduated school and immediately left to go to Venezuela (she followed a boy there!). She was there the year that Chavez was elected. A year after the break up, she came home, and then went to LSE for grad school.
After London she went to India to work on a development program, and fell into the movement of Human Trafficking. She further worked in Laos, Nepal, Cambodia, and back in South America on the Abolitionist movement against Sex Slavery.
Last night we sat for 2 hours informing a local of what sex slavery even was, and his mind was blown. He had no idea of the magnitude of sex slavery, and his anger and frustration after the conversation made me content. The more that people know about sex slavery, the better the movement to stop it. Sure, it’s not such a great bar convo, but I’m sure at some point in his life when he overhears something on the topic he’ll be able to spread what we’ve told him, and that’s what counts.
Refer to my Bangkok Post for more information.
“I think some foreign men think it’s okay to pay for sex here in Thailand, as they think the girls actually want to do this. But these men don’t understand that most of us have no choice .” -Pim, former Bangkok sex worker (http://captivedaughters.org)
I’ve lived in Adam’s Morgan for the past 2 years… (Well, 1.5, considering Taiwan), and I’ve always been entertained by the calamity of the notorious and chaotic alcohol paradise of 18th St. NW. Rum and Cokes, loud music, Salsa dancing, live Reggae, Falafel and Jumbo Slice Pizza were always just a step out of my door and two blocks to the left.
Before this I worked as a Cocktail Waitress at Chi-Cha on U Street, another famous strip of complete raucous weekend sloshfests perpendicular to my new establishment, but left on terms of academics and the like before things really got wild. 18th St has always been a blur of people though–a hodgepodge of populous and unyielding twenty- and thirty-somethings, out to stray far from their 9-5 young professional lives or college atmospheres, all in the name of youth and freedom.
Anyways. I’ve just been hired at a relatively new bar in the area known for their excellent quality barely-pop selections. I don’t even drink beer (anyone who knows me can back that statement), so there little Virginia goes, recommending bottles that she has never heard of or tasted prior to 2 weeks ago. But I remind you all, that in Sales, it’s all in the art of persuasion. It’s all you need! (I swear I’m learning a TON though)
I’m hoping some stories will generate some random laughs on my posts.
Here are a few of my first favorites:
-This past weekend once the slow hours of the night hit and the bar was dwindling down, I had the longest conversation of my life with a genius who graduated from MIT and is a Nuclear Scientist. He was on his first date with a guy who was way too Bush league for him (A Church Glee Enthusiast, with a curfew of 9 on a weekend, no insightful or intelligent conversation, and a hater of Blink 182….How can you hate Blink 182!!)… I actually talked him out of going on a second date. I’m taking on the Hollywood “Wise Bartender” role well.
-I waited on a group of deaf people, which was my first experience with coming up with my own hand gestures for what “strong drink” entails. It went well–I pretended to walk in purposeful zig-zags to demonstrate the severe affects of the drink, and had them laughing hysterically at me and signing things I didn’t understand… haha).
-I have already found one of my favorite regulars. Last night, he was in the bar for a total of 7 hours drinking with friends. He was a Sous-Chef until he was in a bike accident last year. He’s still rehabilitating and hasnt been back to work yet. Last night he walked around the restaurant and waited on my tables, and then we randomly found him back in the kitchen downing his liter of Hofbrau and washing dishes like a maniac. He repeatedly turned around at us peeking in the doorway, yelling, “I GREW UP ON THIS!…. I GREW UP ON THIS!” He’s also a graffiti artist, but hates to be called the word “Artist.”
A great start.
Hi Everyone,
I’m sending my heaviest apologies for not being a well-behaved blogger in the past…ehh… month (eek!). I have no reason for any of this, other than that I am having some inspiration issues. Now that I’m not out trekking the world or sunbathing on blissful islands I feel that I have a loss for what to inspire others on, and struggling to fill those gaps. My past month has been quite arid, depending on the way that you look at things. I’m plowing through weeks of coursework and job searching, burrowing in city cafes and spending all leisure time with close friends and not blogging, so, you tell me, what to write?
There are a few topics I’m juggling with, so if anyone has preferences, I’d love input. Here are the latest brainstorms:
-Enhancing my “Causes I Support” Section, with DC events, fundraisers, volunteer opportunities, & happy hour fun
-Reviews of places I frequent, i.e., those hole-in-the-wall cafes, mom & pop restaurants, and also the big shots
-Environmentalist issues that I’m in support of, incorporating good home techniques for sustainable living and cool green ideas
-The road to a better all around you (not that I’m perfect by a long shot), but over all small simple ways of improving life quality
-For more of a comical read, I was just hired as a bartender/server on DC’s most notorious bar strip–so this could involve some great story lines for blogging
-Any combinations, all of the above, or new ideas?
Since I am an amateur blogger, I’d like to ask the audience on this one, and see what works. I’ve got a lot of interests that always take me in several directions, so narrowing it down by popular opinion would be a blessing.
Thanks to all for any input!
We’re getting about 3-4 feet over here. Things have just begun. DC is going under! The ladies and I tonight are facing the whistling winds of white blobs in conquest to find other human life on U Street. What a Bizarre !!!!!!
Back in Wash and the winter weather is so ishy.
But, good things are going on here. I’m working my mind and keeping up with the times again, stimulating the other side of the brain that doesn’t deal with Mandarin (although I miss it!).
Here’s something funny. The other day I was cruising around in my old beat-up 96 honda civic with a black hood on a candy apple red car (thanks moo), and listening to a constantly skipping CD, Rooney, yah, great band. Well I used to know all of the words, right? But as of three weeks ago, they have fleeted from my mind like the money in my wallet for gasoline. And I assume, that the reason I am humming now is because there is no more capacity for me to store Chinese characters and Spanish Subjunctive conjugations and all the millions of punk song lyrics that used to turn on like a light switch. Semi-Charmed Kind of Life rap during the bridge? Gone. This is what I have must given up in my brain to become multi-lingual. Every now and then a word or chorus peeps out but I’m usually lost by the second word followed by long head bobs, unidentifiable pitch noises, and funky shoulder quirks.
I can’t believe this is what my brain thought was disposable, after all those high school years dedicated to crowd surfing, eyeliner, our all-girl band “Lipstick Lampshades” that lasted for a summer (of which i was the drummer– nothing but high-brow talent, of course), and making Converse Allstars wealthy S.O.B.’s.
Is this what getting old feels like?
