Tag Archives: holiday

Magical Montmartre.

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I thought the magic of Paris was wrapped tight in the Eiffel Tower; intricately woven, measured but unexpected. Then i thought it was a potion concocted by the Seine wrapping itself around the islands in the middle of the city – the candles glowing in Notre-Dame casting a final color-coded spell. I suspected the secret ingredient to Parisian magic was the wine and the food, flavors bursting and lasting.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

But it was when we strolled through the mountainous alleys of Montmartre that i learned where the real magic of Paris is tucked away. And it’s here, the neighborhood once home to Ernest Hemingway and Vincent van Gogh and Satine. (Okay okay, Satine is fictional. But you can’t talk about Montmartre without the Moulin Rouge!)

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Montmartre is the Paris of absinthe stupor, of romanticized memory. It’s where my mother bought her most treasured keepsake from Paris: an acrylic painting of flowers in a vase. It hung on our dining room wall, the blues singing harmony with the white curtains. She’d told me over and over the place i had to go was Place du Tertre – a cobblestone square where street artists gather, luring tourists into buying caricatures and twenty-minute portraits. My favorite artist stall had done a series of cats sleeping around Paris (so out of character for me, i know) but since J and i had already bought our recreation of van Gogh’s sunflowers i was merely window shopping.

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But Place du Tertre is not the only place in Montmartre where art is to be found; the metropolitan signs themselves are works to behold, adjacent to ivy-colored buildings covered in graffiti.

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The Scottish flag hanging in Paris! Viva la Scotland!

The Scottish flag hanging in Paris! Vive la Scotland!

Hand-in-hand we strolled along the lanes of art on display, covetously sneaking glances at the cafés offering wine under checkered umbrellas.

Just up the hill we could make out the silhouette of Sacre-Coeur white against the blue sky. It was the last church on our list of Parisian places we wanted to see – making it the sixth church we’d see on our trip.

And it turned out to be our favorite.

Sacre-Couer is unlike anywhere else i’ve been; it has the enormity and grandeur of Notre Dame, but the intimacy and quiet contemplation of a smaller church. The windows are dazzling, bathing the whole place in the lux nova that made gothic architecture such a sensation in medieval France. No photography was permitted inside and, while i am sad to have no photos to remember it by, i was glad for the forced contemplative time. It allowed me the full breathing space of presence.

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Awed and quieted by the beautiful building, we meandered back to Place du Tertre for a final glass of wine. Our walk overlooked the whole of the city spread below, the Eiffel Tower stark against the skyline. Paris had enthralled us, the clutter of art and mash of accordion metro musicians just the backdrop to the hum of the city itself.

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“We’ll spend a whole week just in Montmartre when we come back, someday,” J mused. Our last Côte du Rhône of the trip was poised in his hand. In the Scottish wool scarf he’d snagged from my wardrobe, he looked downright European.

I scoffed-laughed, a knot of broke-soon-to-be-grad-student-woes clamping in my stomach. I knew what he meant, though. That Montmartre was the neighborhood you wanted to live in a little- learn the streets by heart, pick a favorite haunt for late-night drinks. I felt the same way.

And i knew that this trip was such a gift. A privilege to have the time and money at all to travel. But a gift to spend such time with J, who hadn’t been able to study abroad. A gift to be in love in the city most famous for romance. A gift to stroll alongside the Seine on a sun-dappled afternoon, with no agenda but being in Paris. I was grateful for all we’d seen – the snafus in getting to Paris, the chance to see my dearest Saran at the Eiffel Tower, the sore feet and the sappy smiles.

Mostly, though, i was simply grateful to share in it all with the dimple-faced man wearing my scarf sitting across from me.

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current jam: ‘lullabye’ billy jowl

best thing: freshly-downloaded boarding passes…

Serendipity and Serenades at the Eiffel Tower.

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So when i wasn’t prowling about the Eiffel Tower looking for a hot dog, i was busy being rather bedazzled by the tower itself. There’s magic in Paris, i swear; perhaps the secret entrance to Beauxbatons lies beneath the Seine.

eiffel tower in b&w, watermarked

Seeing the Eiffel Tower at all is striking and poetic and full of Aristocat-themed-music-making. Seeing the Eiffel Tower at night is unlike anything else; the gold against the purple night, the way it lights up and sparkles for ten minutes every hour, the glow it casts on the whole of the jardins surrounding it make me understand why so many artists and writers came to Paris and never left. It’s the music itself.

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Sparkling on the hour!

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Though initially disappointed to learn that the cables for the lift to the tippy-top were too frozen to function, the mid-atmospheric snow in the air at the second level made us quite content to look out at Sacre Coeur and L’Arc de Triomphe from our frozen perch. It was stunning; the whole of Paris reflected back at us like the lights on the tower itself. Even the Seine glowed. If you’re going to Paris, do everything you can to scale the Eiffel Tower at night. It may be knee-knocking, teeth-chattering freezing, but the view is transcendent.

Windswept!

Windswept!

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Making the climb back down!

Making the climb back down!

The Tower’s magic, though, was not bound in cables and floor and vistas for us, though. In some cosmic convergence, one of my very best friends from Mount Holyoke, Saran, was traveling through Paris at the same time as us. Neither one of us had functioning phones, so through spotty glimpses of wifi we’d managed to communicate online that we would meet at the Eiffel Tower sometime that night.

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My fingers were going numb, refreshing my inbox at the base of the Tower. J and i had scouted the lines, walked the perimeter, tried every cranny we could see to find Saran. Worry we were relying too much on chance in a city too big, i began to fret we wouldn’t find her at all.

Until someone shrieked my name from the other side of the tower.

There was a running and a leaping and a hugging and an OH MY G-D, PARIS-ing. I was so delighted to see her, and a mutual friend from Paris, all basking underneath the sparkling gold beams of the most famous French landmark. We walked, arm-in-arm, to a restaurant a few blocks up and had warm reminiscing and fast catching-up over French cuisine. Entrenched in a language and culture and place not my own, i was home in the hearts of people i love.

Blurry and beautiful because of what this means to me!

Blurry but beautiful because of what this means to me!

Just when you start to disbelieve in the magic that weaves Paris together, the rug is pulled out from under you all over again. I suppose that’s falling in love: being awash in passion, falling into a place of comfortable constancy, and, just when you start to get too comfortable or edgy from boredom, something happens to make you commit and believe all over again. 

Paris certainly lives up to its reputation in that way!

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current jam: ‘little bird song’ ed sheeran.

best thing: these INCREDIBLE signs advocating for marriage equality at the supreme court yesterday.

inquiry: would anyone be interested in purchasing a (non-watermarked) print of the eiffel tower (or anything, really)?

The Original London Sightseeing Tour

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We pause in our Parisian program today for a London-town themed update…

J and i were running on a strict budget and even stricter itinerary in our five days (including travel) in Paris and London. There was no possible way we could do or see everything that we wanted – particularly in London, where the touristy spots are pretty spread out. The nature of being a really old city and having a lot of history to tell, i suppose!

Since we only had two days in London and J had never been, i wanted to find a tour that would enable us to at least see the bulk of the major attractions. After an inquiry with the lovely and helpful crew at the Original London Sightseeing Tour, our seats were booked.

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The Original London Sightseeing Tour is an open-top, double-decker bus tour that offers three routes around the center of London to choose from (everything from Buckingham Palace to the Tower of London is included). With the price of the ticket you also get a complimentary river cruise and walking tours, which my father and i had done when last we were in London in 2011.

Both the bus tour and the river cruise are best known for their engaging commentary, be it with a guide or through the multi-lingual commentaries you can access with (free!) headphones. It was from the commentary we learned tidbits about conventional London hotspots (like how the Magna Carta was signed in the Tower of London) and more unconventional details, like the filming location for the interior of Gringotts in Harry Potter was the Australia House!

The aforementioned Australia House!

The aforementioned Australia House!

J & i atop the bus!

J & i atop the bus! We elected the open-air part in spite of the cold!

But the best part, for our compressed itinerary purposes, was the hop-on, hop-off nature of our tickets. Good for 24 hours, we were able to utilize the bus to actually see London (a luxury not afforded on the Tube) and hop off at the sights we took time to explore: Saint Paul’s, Westminster Abbey, and Trafalgar Square.

The view of Saint Paul's from the top of our bus!

The view of Saint Paul’s from the top of our bus!

The view of the Tower Bridge from across the Thames!

The view of the Tower Bridge from across the Thames!

In case it wasn’t already apparent, i’m a big fan of The Original London Sightseeing Tour (long name and all!). Their staff were tremendously friendly and there’s no better way to see London than by the famous double-decker bus. I’d recommend this for any combination of travelers: families, couples, friends, groups.

It is thus with great delight i have something to offer all of you – a 20% off discount code! This code is only good from March 22nd - April 22nd, but you can book your tour up to six months in advance!

So if you (or anyone you know!) want to book an excellent bus tour and river cruise for an excursion to London anytime in the next six months, use the following code for 20% your ticket price: wanderingwrites.

You can make your bookings online (www.theoriginaltour.com) or over the phone at +44 (0)20 8877 2120.

Bon voyage! And be sure to let me know what you think of your tour of London!

**Edit: please note, as of now (23 April 2013) this code is no longer valid! Thanks! xo

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current jam: ‘london calling’ the clash.

best thing: adventuring!

Of Blossoms & Boats: Van Gogh at the Hermitage.

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Refreshed from our wine-and-cheese induced sleep, Abby and i awoke in Amsterdam ready to brave the cold and wanting to explore. After a delicious breakfast at the hotel (have i mentioned the cappuccino machine?) we took a gander about the southern canal/De Pijp neighborhood, drinking in the quaint little bridges and houses stacked against each other.

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Some ten minutes away was our destination: The Hermitage Museum. Since the Van Gogh Museum is presently undergoing renovations, the bulk of their collection is temporarily housed here. I’d been waiting to see this exhibit really since my 12th-grade AP Art History class, when i’d first really studied Vincent.

It was sublime. Is there really any other word for visiting with Van Gogh’s work?

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Unfortunately, photography was strictly forbidden, so i have no photos to share of the actual exhibit. In some ways, i find restrictions like this liberating because it means i’m truly present with the art instead of constantly fiddling with the shutter speed on my Olympus.

Some of my favorite things we saw, though, were not the most famous members of the collection (like Wheat Field with Crows, though that was transcendent). There was a whole section devoted to Van Gogh’s study of Japanese prints, and his painted recreations of some of the prints in his own collection. To see how these pieces really shaped Van Gogh’s perspective as an artist in his formative years was really cool – especially the harsh angles and vibrant colors.

But lest we forget, the more famous works were also amazing to see. I hadn’t known that Almond Blossoms was painted for Vincent’s newborn nephew. Somehow, this idea that the blossoms were meant to celebrate new life made this work all the more endearing.

And the greens! Oh, the greens! I’ve always been enchanted by Bedroom at Arles­ and its quirky, incandescent spirit (my Art History teacher said once he always felt like the chairs were about to start dancing around the room). But it is even more lively in person – the dark patches outlining the bed and making up the floor are such rich tones of emerald that they illuminate the whole work. I was utterly intoxicated by the greens – the fishing boats at Saint-Marie series had me entranced.

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Bedroom in Arles, 1888.

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Almond Blossoms, 1890.

Fishing Boats at Sea, 1888. (I bought this one on a postcard!)

Fishing Boats at Sea, 1888. (I bought this one on a postcard!)

Some two hours later, we exited the gift shop (postcards in hand, of course) and made our way to Kerkestraat for the (aforewrittenabout) bike tour! Our afternoon was thus consumed by exquisite art and wheeling about town – what more could you want from a long weekend in Amsterdam, really?

That was really the bulk of our first day; the cold was too potent to spend too much time out with the sun going down. We returned to our new favorite bar/café, Onder de Ooivaar, for yet another round of wine and cheese. The next day promised a tour of the Anne Frank House, eating our way through the Albert Cuyp Market, and GIANT YELLOW wooden shoes!

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current jam: ’tout doucement’ feist.

best thing: ravioli.

of note: photos of van gogh’s paintings from here. 

The Edinburgh Bucket List!

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In the knowledge that Edinburgh is the second-most frequented tourist destination in the UK, before coming i started to think about what i wanted to do for fun in my five months here. Three guidebooks later, i began to compile a list.

But then, to my book-loving-heart’s-only-mild-shock, guidebooks were not enough. I arrived and suddenly Edinburgh’s vitality and quirk was everywhere, so the list started growing. What had once been ten things turned into twenty. Friends who had studies here, new friends who matriculate here currently, and people from all around have been giving me such delightful tidbits on the hidden treasures encased in this city. (And that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of my Scotland Outside-of-Edinburgh Bucket List!)

So here, with no further ado, i give you the ever-elongating Edinburgh Bucket List! (Italicized means completed, and i’ll add links to blog posts about completed tasks as i go along!)

The Edinburgh Bucket List:

1. Stroll along Princes Street; purchase cheesy souvenir.

2. Buy and wear a kilt.

3. Take the ferry to Incholm Abbey.

4. Explore Leith and Crammond Village, the seashore side of Edinburgh.

5. Go to the National Museum of Scotland!

6. Visit and listen at St Giles Cathedral.

7. Do the Literary Pub Crawl!

8. Go to the Writer’s Museum.

9. Make Pilgrimage to the Elephant House, sit in Her seat, and write. 

10. Go to Edinburgh Castle!

11. Go to the National Gallery.

12. Go to the Modern Art Gallery

13. Explore Greyfriars Kirkyard and find “Tom Riddell”

14. Hike Arthur’s Seat.

15. Picnic on Arthur’s Seat!

16. Go to Holyrood Abbey.

17. Picnic in Princes Street Park!

18. Eat fish & chips at a local chippery.

19. Try Haggis (it was awful!)

20. Go Ceilidh dancing, preferably in new kilt.

21. Stroll along the Royal Mile, especially when the street vendors are out.

22. When missing home, eat at that mysterious KFC on Nicolson Street!

23. Splurge and eat a nice place tucked away on the Royal Mile or some fancy equivalent (like The Witchery).

24. Take high tea.

As it stands, i’ve done 9 of my 24 things. Not a bad start since today marks one month since i left the United States!

So to friends who live or have lived in Edinburgh: what else needs to be on this list? Any great pubs or bands or sites that made your time tremendously unique?

Be sure to stay tuned for my Scotland Bucket List, which shall be published tomorrow!

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current jam: the new dj earworm mix!

best thing: 28 days.

Radi-Aid: Hope for Us All.

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To the chagrin of most members of my immediate family, i unapologetically break out the Christmas CD collection within 24 hours of downing turkey and potatoes on Thanksgiving. We’ve amassed quite the motley crew of musicians over the years – everything from a  ”Christmas Classics” CD with a faded cartoon of Frosty the Snowman on the case to my most beloved alternative holiday music mixes that heavily feature music from the Jingle Spells Wizard Rock collection.

For the past two years, i’ve hosted an Alternative Christmas Music Radio Special on WMHC. It’s a treasured tradition and, though i don’t have a regular show anymore, i’m contemplating reinvigorating the radio voice one last time before the move to Scotland. I just can’t pass up the opportunity to play Steve Martin & Paul Simon’s brilliant Silver Bells on live radio.

But at the same time last year when i announced said radio special on this blog, i also had an axe to grind with Band Aid. The song “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” is potentially one of the most patronizing, condescending, otherizing, and frankly global-north-congratulating bad aid works of art out there. I get that when it was first recorded the intention to feed starving people was a good one (i tend to think wanting to help people is a universally good intention). But good intentions are not enough. As i said last year and say again, the song constructs a trope of AFRICA (as an entire continent) as impoverished, starving, miserable, and in desperate need of American/Global North/Western saviors. Needless to say, this song does not make its way onto any of my alternative Christmas music mixes.

However.

Band-Aid has met its match in the brilliant and satirical campaign entitled “Radi-Aid: Africa for Norway.“ On November 16th, SAIH (The Norwegian Students’ and Academics’ International Assistance Fund)* released this video to launch a campaign for all Africans to donate their radiators to save freezing Norwegians:

 

While the campaign’s actual aims are not, in fact, to collect and ship radiators the actual tenants of what SAIH are doing here are fabulous. According to the blog Africa is a Country, the campaign’s actual aims are as follows:

1. Fundraising should not be based on exploiting stereotypes.
2. We want better information about what is going on in the world, in schools, in TV and media.
3. Media: Show respect.
4. Aid must be based on real needs, not “good” intentions.

Additionally, Caitlin L. Chandler, a writer for AIAC, interviewed Anja Bakken Riise and Erik Schreiner Evans, the Vice-President and President of SAIH respectively.

From the interview, poking around their website, and cackling at the video on repeat, i have gleaned a real sense of hope. This satire doesn’t debase the idea of people wanting to help. Rather, i think it effectively uses humor to highlight the ridiculous narrative that so much of Christmas-season (and really, year-round) charity efforts spout. The video is calling for more accurate information and a nuanced understanding of global affairs. As Erik Schreiner Evans says in the interview,

“We also want to mess with the stereotypes people have. The problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, it’s that they’re incomplete. Norway is, in fact, a relatively cold country. But I think most Norwegians would be rather frustrated if that was the only thing Norway was known for. I think a lot of people would agree that the same goes for most African countries.”

The video, without writing people’s good intentions off, invites us all to re-examine what stereotypes we hold. The video illuminates the need for people with purchasing power looking to use monetary or material donations as a force for change to critically examine where the money/goods they’re donating are going. “We” have to ask who the “we” are. In our donations, are “we” implying an other? Is there a dichotomy of “us” who are wealthy and “them” who are poor? How do we define such statuses of economic or mental or spiritual poverty and wealth? What tropes about the world do we hold as truth?

I, for one, am ecstatic about this campaign. I think it’s clever and using a universal human characteristic – laughter – to ask us all to question and dig deeper within our own assumptions.

And isn’t it the season for good cheer?

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best thing: three miles at the gym.

* in cooperation with Operation Day’s Work and funded by The Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation (Norad) and The Norwegian Children and Youth Council (LNU) with music by Wathiq Hoosain, lyrics by Bretton Woods, and video by Ikind Productions.

Do They Know it’s Christmastime At All?

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Tis the season, friends.

For holly, for blustery cold winds, for frantic trips to the mall to shower ourselves in consumerism, for cups of cocoa, and for lizzie to start blogging again.

Okay, i’m not really that much of a cynic when it comes to the month of December and all that unfolds with it. I adore It’s a Wonderful Life as much as the next sucker for Jimmy Stewart, will consume entirely too much eggnog on Christmas Eve, have spent hours laboriously selecting each Christmas/Hannukah present for my friends and family, and i’m known to covet the light-up snowman sweaters for sale across the mall (though, oddly enough, i don’t own an embarrassingly bad Christmas sweater (adds to the list)).

There is, however, one thing i cannot STAND about the month of December. It’s something that, for a long time, i totally lapped up and partook in. Now, however, that i’m a little older, my opinions on the subject have changed.

I cannot stand cheesy Christmas music.

I’m not talking about carols – i adore old hymns (particularly (yes, without irony) when sung by choirs), play Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby” on repeat, and even am known to dance around the house listening to Holiday Mixes while stringing the fake-greens around the banisters. So i guess saying that i don’t like cheesy Christmas music is a bit of a lie.

I shall rephrase: i am extraordinarily picky about my Christmas music.

I can’t stand Bing Crosby (no, really.), i’m of the opinion any beautiful composition can be ruined by too many sweeping violin lines, and if i hear one more country version of ‘Mary Did You Know’ i might puke up all those chesnuts cooked over an open fire.

Amidst all the roasting nuts, though, one particular tune stands out to me as something to be despised. No, rephrase: there is one particular ‘Holiday’ tune that i think transcends the level of a poorly digested Christmas Roast. It embodies everything despicable about post-colonialism and patronizing charity practices.

This tune is, as you’ve most likely inferred from the title, ‘Do They Know it’s Christmastime’ by Band Aid.

For those of you fortunate few to have never heard this tune, consider yourself hand-picked by Old Saint Nick as a lucky member of the Christmas Music Elite. While i appreciate that Band Aid was meant to raise money for people enduring a horrific famine in Ethiopia, the lyrics are just flat out disgusting.

For example, the first verse and chorus are as follows:

It’s Christmas time,
there’s no need to be afraid.
At Christmas time
we let in light and banish shade
And in our world of plenty
we can spread a smile of Joy
Throw your arms around the world
at Christmas time.

But say a prayer,
Pray for the other ones.
At Christmas time it’s hard
but when you’re having fun…
There’s a world outside your window
and it’s a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is
the bitter sting of tears
Where the Christmas bells that are ringing
are the clanging chimes of Doom
Well, tonight thank God it’s them instead of you.

And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life.
Ohh….
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?

Bells of Doom? Really? REALLY?

I’m sitting here, trying to find a place to commence my unpacking of this particular Christmas present, and my initial reaction is one of stunned disgust.

To begin with the obvious: my experiences in (THE WHOLE CONTINENT OF? REALLY PEOPLE?) Africa have shown me that there is a considerably higher population of church-attending Christians than in the United States. I did, after all, work for the Church of Uganda. And, sorry to sound like a proselytizing born-again (i’m not) but Christmas is, ultimately, a holiday in the Christian faith. I am aware it is strategically well-placed to coincide with the winter solstice and pagan traditions, but still. Just because some Ugandans (or Malawians, or residents of Côte d’Ivoire, or wherever) don’t worship consumerism and deck the halls the way Christmas is advertised in the States does not mean they don’t know WHAT IT IS.

So, yes. The People whom i’ve encountered, known, and befriended in AFRICA know what Christmas is, when it comes, and many celebrate it. There’s even snow year-round in the Rwenzori mountains, seasonally in South Africa. So for some people, there will be snow – snow that provides drinking water (not only the ‘bitter flow of tears’).

What gets to me the most about this song is the utter lack of realization that the people who face dire material poverty (which is not all of Africa, contrary to the suppositions made by this song) are, after all, people. People as complex and ridiculous and intelligent and beautiful as you. Some of the most incredible, inspiring, and self-motivated people i’ve met are African. Such a patronizing song diffuses all the work done in grassroots capacities all across this vast, vast continent. The words – and the broader mentality behind this song – encapsulate an attitude that gives no space for voice contrary to those in material power.

Seriously. This song seems to paint a picture for me of a pot-bellied, snot-running-down-her-face little  baby girl in the dirt, looking totally helpless at the camera. The lyrics literally say “the other ones,” making the establishment of the ‘us’ and the (poor, incapable) ‘them’ as distinctive as can be. Every facet of post-colonialist, “let’s help make those people better by giving them more money” mentality is so succinct in this work of deliciously politically incorrect piece of music. There is no motion to see what can be learned from people who live with AIDS, much less any kind of indication that the voices of the people the song is meant to ‘help’ are being given agency. It’s a song meant to make people who donate money to charity feel good, pat themselves on the back, and live into the cheer of the holidays.

I’m not trying to dissuade anyone from donating to NGOs or purchase fair trade products (etc). It’s not the cause – it’s the attitude. And i know, i know, this song is not meant to be anything profound. I’m also aware it was written in 1984, but the fact that it is still so widely played on holiday music stations speaks to its continued cultural significance. The song was written so a bunch of celebrities could tell you to take a second to think about someone beyond your social network in the midst of a season of giving. And maybe to give a few bucks to the cause. I know. In many ways, this song has the best of intentions.

But lyrics like “it’s a world of dread and fear” only enhance this falsified idea of what AFRICA looks like. My personal experiences (which, let’s be perfectly clear, i may have lived in Uganda for a summer, but this by no means makes me any kind of expert) have been that people are resilient and willing to overcome extreme odds. Not everyone – not every story is one that will make the headline news of CNN. But such sweeping statements about what life is like “in AFRICA” perpetuates an incredibly skewed perception of poverty, globalization, aid, and the USA’s role in empowering communities to empower themselves – on their own terms.

Okay, rant over. Back to the Cadbury Cocoa and ring-a-lings of bells.

If, however, you’re anything like me and you’re seeking an alternative to the little Drummer Boys, the Band Aids, or just an excuse to sneak away from Aunt Petunia and her tasteless Christmas pies, i have a solution for you!

Next week, from 4 to 6 PM EST, i’m thrilled to announce that Juxtaposition’s Second Annual Alternative Christmas Music Special will be airing live! You can listen locally at 91.5 FM WMHC South Hadley, or globally by clicking here. There will be the slightly irreverent, the quirky, the outright bizarre, the underplayed but beautiful, and the special guest of Alex Day! There only thing there won’t be is Bing Crosby. (There is more information on the Juxtaposition Website).

yeah. you want to be there.

So i’ll see you then, folks. Happy Holidays, and stuff.

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current jam: ‘you’re the voice’ john farnham (yes, still….)

best thing in my life right now: hermione granger. and the above picture.