Cut to this past week, when I decided to watch them during my daily commute. I cued up Zorba the Greek, knowing that my timing rendered the movie woefully irrelevant (given that I was in Chicago, not Greece) but WHATEVER. I was curious.
Simply put, it was easily the strangest movie I've ever seen in my entire life. In the battle of oddest movies ever, it easily takes the crown from runners-up like Heathers and Magnolia. You know what? I'll let you see what I'm talking about:
Bizarre-O, right?! Discuss amongst yourselves.
Click here to be taken to my Flickr set. I only uploaded about 1/3 of the total volume of photos taken - you can thank me later, k?
Here are my daily snapshots of my vacation evenings, in order. Some are, admittedly, more relaxing than others. Click to enlarge.
Day 1: Hot bath, red wine, wind down from long flight(s) - Athens
Day 2: Feet up after long, hot day of touring, enjoying the view - Athens
Day 3: Lovely dinner in the grotto at Daphne's, near miss of thunderstorm - Athens
Day 4: Cocktail on the balcony, overlooking the Athenian riviera. Quiet, lovely. Ouzo is Sean's (I hate that stuff) - Athens
Day 5: Reading on the terrace of our room - Mykonos
Day 6: Reading (another book! one book a day = best part of any vacation) and laughing, watching Monk reruns. Mykonos
Day 7: Aboard the high-speed ferry from Mykonos to Crete, pounding anti-nauseals and hoping for the best
Day 8: Escaping the sun in our room, pre-dinner cocktails and an unreal view - Elounda, Crete
Day 9: Aegean Air, yet another book, headed back to Athens
Day 10: Mid-day-night-who-the-hell-knows-what-time-it-is, another book! - somewhere over Greenland, en route to Chicago
And on that note, I'm off to bed. It's the end of the day, you know.
Long story short? You should go there. You should go there NOW.
I'll be sifting through my 12 gb of photos (!!!) and putting the ones that don't suck onto Flickr throughout the week. Until then, you can revel in this cellphone picture I took in my cube this morning, displaying my glorious tan. Obviously, I was pretending to be on the beach.
(Seriously, it's the tannest I think I've ever been. And I had 55-70 SPF on at mostly all times. That grecian sun is no laughing matter.)
(Also, I am wearing a tank top that you cannot see in the photo. Just in case you were thinking something crazy.)
(omg! what's with the parentheticals, Jamie?)
(and the guinea pigs? we're talking about Greece, not Ecuador!)
Seriously though, I am beyond excited to see this country. It's definitely always been on my bucket list and I am so grateful to have an adventuresome partner with whom to share the experience. Our vacations are always memorable, and this go 'round, we've actually scheduled in beach/rest time! I can't wait to just sit. Plus, I don't think I've ever been to a place with water this clear and blue. (Maybe Belize, but I was working so I didn't exactly enjoy it)
(ommmmmgggggg the parentheses! they are back! i am an addict!)
I hope you all have a wonderful Labor Day Weekend - I'll be back in a week or so dragging jars of olives, my sunburned self, and undoubtedly many awesome memories behind me. Take care.
*Greek for "safe travels" which I certainly hope we have. Bon voyage to any of you that are also traveling!
and it goes on... and I become more perplexed, wishing I had some internal context of the 1960's to which I could refer...
We had more in our lives than just men; we had our work, travel, friends. Then why did our lives seem to come down to a long succession of sad songs about men? Why did our lives seem to reduce themselves to manhunts? Where were the women who were really free, who didn't spend their lives bouncing from man to man, who felt complete with or without a man? We looked to our uncertain heroines for help, and lo and behold - Simone de Beauvoir never makes a move without wondering what would Sartre think? [ed:...] Timid in their lives and brave only in their art. Emily Dickinson, the Brontes, Virginia Woolf, Carson McCullers...Flannery O'Connor raising peacocks and living with her mother, Sylvia Plath sticking her head into an oven of myth. Georgia O'Keefe alone in the desert, apparently a survivor. What a group! Severe, suicidal, strange. Where was the female Chaucer? One lusty lady who had juice and joy and love and talent too? Where could we turn for guidance? [Ed:...] Almost all the women we admired most were spinsters or suicides. Was that where it all led?
I like the goal of this book. I'm just not certain I'm liking how she chooses to portray her ideals, how she narrates the character development. Hmm. I might have to finish this, and revisit it later. The subject matter is, all at once, incredibly relevant to my life, and also totally irrelevant. Very odd.
As part of "Operation Calm The Hell Down STAT Or Else," I put together the following playlist this morning. I will be listening to it on repeat (and most likely, also on a beach somewhere soon) and repeating something trite like "Serenity Now..." That, or I'll just find me another one of those umbrella'd cocktails.
Jamie's Vacation Playlist: Version LaidBack 2.0
Life in a Northern Town Sugarland
Mykonos Fleet Foxes
More Time Needtobreathe
Another Sunny Day Belle & Sebastian
We Belong Together Gavin DeGraw
For All We Know Carpenters
People Get Ready Curtis Mayfield & the Impressions
Black Flowers Yo La Tengo
Close to Me The Cure
Wait For Me Moby
Let My Love Open the Door Pete Townshend
Cold Out There Jon Hopkins
Lanterns on the Levee Kate Campbell
In the Waiting Line Zero7
Look out Any Window Bruce Hornsby
How Sweet it Is Marvin Gaye
Blue Ridge Mountains Fleet Foxes
Close Call Rilo Kiley
I'll Be There Jackson 5