tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85750409066828425222024-03-13T05:39:24.460+01:00BunkaMadisonMAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-26263881571338579472008-12-03T17:05:00.006+01:002008-12-03T17:24:30.836+01:00Blank Slate...Revisited<div><div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So long long ago, </span><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2008/01/blank-slate.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">I had this crazy idea to build up my terrace</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">.<br /><br />Mainly because of this view...</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275597449224611682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUH00_B5dAAJKkGtr0AK_pyh0gMs4krfRgc_22rWLQlQy1areTSjORBbSRfPm-ljXI5rKXNzs4ml5lilLhN9LOymA9j2hLALfAWx_vpgbL38EghjLGAvBEmnjPk3mtDpK3bSOMTxnXIQ/s400/view+from+terrace.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1p0y3NuXgL75ROMpMNGDfjLTPM3JYb_4Ui_xqm9O3Cv9r4bWpYdlTPJsJUU9D0CeGt7R8fnNtuyh6vwzdapHdqjdoeNCvRZLy8tttRcuBCEVCsR4y8XTaiix3Q5Ms6yIpP0X5EqGFQc/s1600-h/IMG_1068.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275596315871876098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1p0y3NuXgL75ROMpMNGDfjLTPM3JYb_4Ui_xqm9O3Cv9r4bWpYdlTPJsJUU9D0CeGt7R8fnNtuyh6vwzdapHdqjdoeNCvRZLy8tttRcuBCEVCsR4y8XTaiix3Q5Ms6yIpP0X5EqGFQc/s400/IMG_1068.JPG" border="0" /></a> </p><p></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">But an easy task it was not.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Here was the process...</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-7hKitLVKFn42ImEn7bgOCaKg8S6bRooiGL3genNdmM-ZiZYpFvINj7Q2N7ZKiHsZQLBxyN9QpJpMfJgLJzCRyNHcdVDUSbqEWMtVprwJddXX6w3m2kKNASQe-w9NFQrId1KsZC_tXA/s1600-h/stage+1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275597453426973218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-7hKitLVKFn42ImEn7bgOCaKg8S6bRooiGL3genNdmM-ZiZYpFvINj7Q2N7ZKiHsZQLBxyN9QpJpMfJgLJzCRyNHcdVDUSbqEWMtVprwJddXX6w3m2kKNASQe-w9NFQrId1KsZC_tXA/s400/stage+1.JPG" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275597455225042994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56EEmhV53j9qpepZHvwwa6ymdRRaxWB9g7cygAQOp1jgv9aYhcSdL6AZaNfeBUpp4s_hGYo0Tzhgh98CihKXs_8-AvBoBLh6sFoN1XpT6g8Mx5PeLcEPbV6K1OgSVlRiBVCwc5jOj6iw/s400/stage+2a.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275598228145639698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrAz-DYB_eXYP5vSKqR86c5UlytwcAmBx2OWYoNzfpkv2ou9h67uHR6GXYCVOeBzzRk0bndxjOCOxsxOEPJ97mX9Ju3Kv9QE75jEe74Hvc_05-aNQRAr9TOkaXYqpNEXf8P8KQn9BaoQ/s400/Immagine+004.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275597456810440002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxOt9ZH3AsV-o3_Q8uqgaGsZOSk0Rfw42QtJJwh43jafAGL_Pfy9ELbHeAvuJLjKqR98CEEC_IlhCgZCnA3YEwWqDb23DuR2Xtro9MhcJ5jTCCgna5sTC1BzGsfVv4dkBSGX8ThyphenhyphenDVwWA/s400/stage+3a.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275598239772353522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9B5oI1Ma93jebFBjh3KYRT2YdlCt47f_K8OS7oA0tourAdoNigqjrrX_Cytu_hX3riuWj7iP_ZvgfLcZU2beA6cRN_cwuQ1VxFg1_Vse6XErwG2TvkA72TwlV8X1K_og2HEVsvrC8-bM/s400/Immagine+007.jpg" border="0" /> </p></div></div></div></div><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275598241595796994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSagv_hje7qq_gqSjg53gBj8dZ2MKQV6cZKd58OE14TtsMvon2N-wXl5x65AdN9R8CwfcxmQJsPOCZY-NNFDiIlei2tY9Be0MAAzlJyLiEcW4rzMPyMxKXRQMMMhU8ktsJdFmzV6f20P8/s400/Immagine+014.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275598233555862578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4kCpAysqHdOjrABSjuZCqoHynaSBWqBAFU35gHp9MuTEOqE0cULsKFcOFsPq46SAIqnXkERtNALT5tR0b59aZOg2XbHPgWrgR6gVqeltvh3f8gT8ouDUH6nVx8jZW9PKcEya2lQBDjQ/s400/Immagine+002.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275598225169795186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgquiOUj7jzRa56tCmoRDypzTJdiIzn6SIjf1q2HrBpykKMAT83U1LhVnh2lEj85PtULCqV-yv1aIY_dFUnWsEcegmk1a5JUxRMGPvbYPCISBkiNNWc3mYwJ53SLvss5ucDkRZDy6pb4/s400/Immagine+001.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">And now onto the next project.</span></p>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-78884352099682202942008-09-08T23:05:00.019+02:002008-09-11T23:30:06.202+02:00Self Defense<div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Guest n°2<br /><br />Cesarea (Shay-Zah-Ree-Ah)<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Cesarea wasn't really invited to the party, but she came anyway. That was typical of her. I wouldn't say that Mads <em><strong>disliked</strong></em> Cesarea, but there were always moments that Mads found herself unknowingly squeezing her fists in stress/annoyance while speaking to her. It wouldn't be until the pain of her nails slicing into her hands became unbearable that she would realize just how wound up she was getting.</span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It wasn't because Ceserea was a nasty or cruel person in anyway. She was just overly defensive... <strong><em>About everything</em></strong>. You couldn't have a conversation with her without unexpectantly finding yourself backed into a corner.</span></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads had been to her home once before and remembered it being so fitting. It was strangely warm and inviting, but the moment you relaxed and sat down it seemed to wake up and sound the alarms. Her home was a tricky little bastard because on the outside it seemed elegantly bold, yet sweet and passionate...but the moment you let your guard down it was there like a hawk ready to deafen you with its cry.</span></div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2T2T_RkuloGM6f_-E2FYPTYeLwEHJuTvL1yLq7rOcTRlV3TRZE-KqUgZvbLgajbKhh38eOLq5eAup9Ovzne4lPV7a4_QgB98JRAt_GUe4tzqXtOwkq7pU9jN7Xh-vtRn0IFw7bvSEDk/s1600-h/Elle+Decor+Italia+May+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244869088219127394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2T2T_RkuloGM6f_-E2FYPTYeLwEHJuTvL1yLq7rOcTRlV3TRZE-KqUgZvbLgajbKhh38eOLq5eAup9Ovzne4lPV7a4_QgB98JRAt_GUe4tzqXtOwkq7pU9jN7Xh-vtRn0IFw7bvSEDk/s400/Elle+Decor+Italia+May+2008.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia May 2008</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJy94L4QusG3AnMpQivIE-YajEQWtr1AqrIpNiBxffjYbi-Ka2IeMAjjKkxBwX0B2NEc6RF3xX7Ld37ndrRTuLpmLMCA24eDhtBVKzqQLZgSn5jKnxBuf0TkvUmY4mdO6dLYtSrVCEEq8/s1600-h/R%C3%A8ussir+son+Habitat+Aug+Sept+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244869099892488194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJy94L4QusG3AnMpQivIE-YajEQWtr1AqrIpNiBxffjYbi-Ka2IeMAjjKkxBwX0B2NEc6RF3xX7Ld37ndrRTuLpmLMCA24eDhtBVKzqQLZgSn5jKnxBuf0TkvUmY4mdO6dLYtSrVCEEq8/s400/R%C3%A8ussir+son+Habitat+Aug+Sept+2008.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Rèussir son Habitat Aug/Sept 2008</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXNgiNRWWQiEi_2G-tJo_nuE1DjbVg_RvX_TAuVBy9urDfxdIYCyoUZ3q9U6wEX1ChjKBTeGXCnfmAjgFFHmfFAgPRrsPEncaoLdC6A-z0Wxymh1RMTb_-9gnv8K1RmMG3rsjCxDVjng/s1600-h/AD+Italia+Nov+2007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244868130057533682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXNgiNRWWQiEi_2G-tJo_nuE1DjbVg_RvX_TAuVBy9urDfxdIYCyoUZ3q9U6wEX1ChjKBTeGXCnfmAjgFFHmfFAgPRrsPEncaoLdC6A-z0Wxymh1RMTb_-9gnv8K1RmMG3rsjCxDVjng/s400/AD+Italia+Nov+2007.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia Nov 2007<br /></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIfpQYw5BQH2m7wAyJgnoGfChxRWntx6qE70-bCTdd9RXESLMepfda80Jc1XUpZHcqb9mybE_IxPNBpdG2zHucCXZy944YyfGZVlFye9dxJqC88ZUxO-POYRzNfUtr3gjMBsv18lzsh8/s1600-h/AD+Italia+July+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244867235997942130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIfpQYw5BQH2m7wAyJgnoGfChxRWntx6qE70-bCTdd9RXESLMepfda80Jc1XUpZHcqb9mybE_IxPNBpdG2zHucCXZy944YyfGZVlFye9dxJqC88ZUxO-POYRzNfUtr3gjMBsv18lzsh8/s400/AD+Italia+July+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia July 2008</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads was thinking desperately of a cordial way to greet Cesarea without pressing any buttons. Fortunately, Cesarea initiated things with a compliment,</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Wow Mads, you have really outdone yourself this time! The place is fabulous! I heard of all of the problems that came up during the reconstruction process...Gosh! You must be so happy its done! Happy and proud! Am I right?"</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Compliments...Hmmm, this was going well. Mads breathed a sigh of relief,</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"That is so sweet of you to say...And yes I am very happy and quite proud!"</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">The two exchanged Italian kisses and Mads, feeling quite good about her accomplishment and how the night was going in general, decided to engage in a little chit chat,</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"And speaking of proud, you must be as well! We have all heard about your brother Matteo's new job position! Director of the Bentley? It's only the largest, most well known and prestigious hotel in all of Liguria..."</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">MAds hadn't even let the breath of the last word out when she knew that there was a problem. She could see it in Cesarea's face, and hear it in her suddenly flat voice,</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Why would we be proud? What is so exceptional about the situation that you would assume that we would be brimming with pride?"</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads began running through the last 30 seconds of conversation, wondering where it had gone all wrong,</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"No, I mean, I just think it is wonderful and inspiring that he would be appointed as Director of such an important establishment. He has certainly worked hard to get it"</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"And we should be proud and overjoyed because my brother, who has been working in the hotel industry for half his life and who has been praised for his professionalism and ability to create atmospheres and balance budgets better than anyone else...We should be proud that he, the obvious choice in our minds, was finally given the opportunity that he deserves? Is that what you are saying?"</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads was already beginning to loose sensation in at least 3 of her fingers on her right hand,</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"All I am saying is that if I were you I would be very proud of my brother in this situation. I mean, <strong>he is blind</strong>, and this isn't exactly a normal situation"</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Oh! So my brother isn't normal just because he is blind? So you don't think blind people are capable of working the same as people with sight?!? How dare you assume he will fail before he has even finished signing his contracts! You know its people like you that create this kind of discrimination in the world....!"</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Okay, listen, I'm not sure where this went wrong but I was not judging your brother or predicting his failure. In all honesty, I'm just amazed at how many hurdles he has overcome and how well he has done up until now."</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"The only hurdles he has are people like you! He has been doing this job for over 15 years!"</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads decided to take a chance,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Well, running a bed and breakfast and a multi million dollar 5 star hotel aren't exactly the same, in all fairness, Cesarea"</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Oh so your saying that because he is blind he wont be able to adjust to the slightly larger scale of operations?"</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Understanding that this was going nowhere, but around and around in circles, thus missing any point to be made, Mads concluded what had started as such a nice conversation,</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">"Okay, you know what, never mind...Congratulations, again. Send my love to your brother and his wife. I hope she has been able to recover from her injuries..."</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"What?!? So you think that just because he is blind he wont be able to take care of his wife who has lost the use of her legs <strong>and</strong> be successful and dedicated to his job? SCREW YOU! AND SCREW PEOPLE LIKE YOU! HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT THE BLIND CANT BE AS STRONG AND AS SUPERHUMAN AS THE REST OF US!</span></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Hands bleeding, Mads gathered herself and walked away.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-86503186549918886072008-03-05T14:34:00.003+01:002008-09-11T23:30:17.390+02:00That Girl<span style="font-size:130%;">Guest n°1</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Sandra.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Sandra opened her email with an anticipation that very rarely graced her life. She hadn't been to a real party in a long time. Back in the day she was the <em>'It Girl'</em>, but recently with work, life, stress and a relationship gone bad, she had slipped into a mundane existence that facilitated her arrival to Saturday morning when she could sleep-in and eat leftover pizza for breakfast.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">She spent most of her time at home. Her house was her pride and joy, but I must say, <em>in as much of an objective and non judgmental way as possible</em>, that although quite nice...Well, there was always something just not quite right. The very good idea and attempt gone bad. But you couldn't tell Sandra that. Oh no! Not only had she needed a reality check for quite some time, but she also lavished herself in denial on a daily basis. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Well you be the judge...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyaEs-K0g2WW_Z2bGRnihPdyHnEgM6lYbR1M29Z3N869EgPb4KA2RhE11Dv1X1ETFGkDXrFULSbDs0rjFITM3sKDjaygXpKYE4huNaigsflPfq_SQmybKPtp5hFkBqMz2bQ7aM6NdR1tY/s1600-h/AD+Italia+Jan2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176877331455849762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="378" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyaEs-K0g2WW_Z2bGRnihPdyHnEgM6lYbR1M29Z3N869EgPb4KA2RhE11Dv1X1ETFGkDXrFULSbDs0rjFITM3sKDjaygXpKYE4huNaigsflPfq_SQmybKPtp5hFkBqMz2bQ7aM6NdR1tY/s400/AD+Italia+Jan2008.jpg" width="288" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia Jan 2008<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAVvIrPLxfC_9sZUDojR-nQDWqOg1C9-_yqH0FllYLSXrqqURGE7i8pZC5urpbD2EqSi3S-usBButwalHqkq1Ks0Q5CfInaih_vApsc4QgRerNcX-BCRydmv_x0MpYATzrpkPumNOpKk/s1600-h/AD+Italia+Jan+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176877340045784370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAVvIrPLxfC_9sZUDojR-nQDWqOg1C9-_yqH0FllYLSXrqqURGE7i8pZC5urpbD2EqSi3S-usBButwalHqkq1Ks0Q5CfInaih_vApsc4QgRerNcX-BCRydmv_x0MpYATzrpkPumNOpKk/s400/AD+Italia+Jan+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia Jan 2008</span></p><p align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMelBKhAcKHa7FJBsdRxC7wm3rwF9SrSekHjoo_35QLjK-jkvc8TX1qKrWdHqnlS76zm7xrlkwbS9uOsFEe0e8l2NKsMbvY195lx8JA0dfGphcLpSueoqTEmRS9a1eh0P-b-Ixxs2VziQ/s1600-h/ADItalia+Jan+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176877348635718978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMelBKhAcKHa7FJBsdRxC7wm3rwF9SrSekHjoo_35QLjK-jkvc8TX1qKrWdHqnlS76zm7xrlkwbS9uOsFEe0e8l2NKsMbvY195lx8JA0dfGphcLpSueoqTEmRS9a1eh0P-b-Ixxs2VziQ/s400/ADItalia+Jan+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia Jan 2008<br /></span></p><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><div align="center"><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">...<em>Anyways</em>...</span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It seemed to have taken forever for the file to download and when the slide-show began she smiled as memories of the event were refreshed. After 3 or 4 photos she began to get impatient. Where was she? You see, she had made a real effort that night. She had found a skirt that she had worn a few years back that had been daunted by others as 'The Killer Skirt That Sandra Got In Rome'. She wore it along with a new top she had bought for the occasion. She had taken a chance because the skirt was a bit shorter than she remembered and a bit tighter. But she was looking to leave an impact. She was looking to be remembered and that skirt was her ticket. And then her thoughts were interrupted by an image that almost stopped her heart. Finally there was a picture of her. But not the one she expected. Instead of looking like a diva dressed in Prada, she looked like a beached whale wrapped in a black plastic. And if the 1st photo stopped her heart, then the next three can be summarized by watching any 5 minutes of a WWE Smackdown highlights clip. Her ass seemed to expand exponentially in each photo. Sandra's palms began to sweat. How could this be possible? She wasn't fat. Fine, most of her clothes were a bit too tight, or too small all together, but that was only because her washer was old. She had bought a new one, and admittedly the problem didn't go away, but that was only because there was an electrical problem with the currents and fuses and whatever else is involved in home wiring. In fact, she already had an appointment scheduled with the electrician for next Tuesday. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And then her mind began to race...Maybe there was a problem with the camera. Or the monitor. Like when the wide screen came out and everyone looked like short fat chipmunks. Of course! It was the format of the photos! She quickly started the slide-show from the beginning to examine how others looked. The first person seemed completely normal, but she was like 20 years old and completely anorexic, so she didn't count. Then others popped up with smiles and decent figures. And then she saw herself again and the vomit creeped up the back of her throat. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh My God, She thought. <strong><em>I'm FAT</em></strong>. Its not the dryer or the cut or the fabric or the electricity. Its me! I'm fat and I squeezed my fat ass into a skirt that I should have never worn and I pranced around all night like I was a supermodel not even knowing that the stares weren't out of admiration, but of ridicule. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The embarrassment overwhelmed her.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh my God. <em><strong>I'm That Girl</strong></em>.<br /></span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-87299471161931812642008-02-28T15:11:00.004+01:002008-03-12T15:36:32.842+01:00Wine, Water and Milk<span style="font-size:130%;">Mads wasn't a rude person by nature, but </span><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2008/02/zikulman-trotted-down-stairs-and-mads.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">Simona</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> had come at the wrong time. When she asked to stay a Mads house it was just 3 days before her Open House party, so suitcases and drama were not what she needed. She was already trying to find a solution to her current problem at hand.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">She had less than 24 hours for the big reveal, and nothing was going according to plan. Not only had the guest list grown from 20 to 70 overnight, but it was raining out. Actually it wasnt just raining, it was POURING.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So while the rest of the world was moving in continuous motion, Mads hit a brick wall built of the following materials:</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><ul><li>3 pounds of new computer, which unbeknownst to her, was not pre-mixed</li><li>10 tons of Windows Vista, which was not only defective, but not compatible with ANY OF THE OTHER MATERIALS ON SITE</li><li>6 crates of Cambridge Exams and no lorry to deliver them in time</li><li>At least 8 slabs of pre-cut flu...all of which fell off the crane and directly Mads head</li><li>4 invoices for photos that she couldn't use...that thus remain unpaid</li></ul><p><br />And so time passed, faster than normal. But alas, Mads' ability to finally connect to the Internet and download the manual for her camera brings us two steps closer to a full reveal...</p><p align="center"><br /><strong>But Not Quite Yet</strong></p><p><br />Until then, enjoy a few short stories about the guests...</p><p><br />Wine, water or milk. An evening of confusion, diversion, improvisation and laughter.</span></p>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-9075081731182851742008-02-25T20:46:00.002+01:002008-02-25T20:52:16.037+01:00Wine, Water and MilkWhat I can tell you is that there was a party last night. I wont elaborate much until the photographer gets back to me with the photos.<br /><br />BUT KNOW THIS:<br /><br />There were enough characters in last nights event to keep this little blog going for years to come...<br /><br />Chapters in the saga to look forward to...<br /><br />Wine, Water and Milk<br />Say Hello<br />Who Brought the Lobster?<br />Ringing in My Ears<br />Dogs New Best FriendMAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-17146601067896648482008-02-18T17:16:00.022+01:002008-02-20T19:06:29.367+01:00Overdose and Implications<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2008/02/hes-so-cool.html">Zikulman</a> trotted down the stairs and Mads waited until she heard the slam of the </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQd88ZS5Ov9pjostHLO1rH41H0t02wYAv2NRak8YzgX7g8X4YbCIzoRIC0LQHvlnda3jqna6-ksQP1xpkZX06xPgRaQoyBNDtBoVsYlR20PkoOXO0jf1Tt32_GRVciAuKAhf7jEF8nkU/s1600-h/Front+Door.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;">iron doors</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> before she proceeded up the stairs.</span></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">As she approached her apartment, she realized that her door was slightly opened. Fearing the worst after a string of burglaries in the past few months and being the proud parent of a completely </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3j9UKuAmhNiv-RaJv_Fje6S94ZYvHNpLvzrmaI_l2XwYhMBpA4FovzHV5Km6R9ZRyhrPOORpMT8ENxzG9Hpd9OFEVl6XCObg2Vc2byUBEXwniHpPF7nfS0zPQk-YOp_FW06Ca2bLZHc/s1600-h/Eva+Sleeping.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;">useless dog</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">, Mads dug into her bag for the illegal pepper spay she had bought on Ebay</span></div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyV4uHlTY2VU6Q3qwfdD7EXegLU_d0hNYH_tjueMD6_uGrO3lYmLzSpL8Jp9LSFQqMQhq4IZgyLURePYJVo9NiWoaxjfIMwD2ugF9pqR7SQdhLbFDquyJa4SsTCE44n-ASupEhEeDgW0g/s1600-h/14092007248ie5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168357269106630786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyV4uHlTY2VU6Q3qwfdD7EXegLU_d0hNYH_tjueMD6_uGrO3lYmLzSpL8Jp9LSFQqMQhq4IZgyLURePYJVo9NiWoaxjfIMwD2ugF9pqR7SQdhLbFDquyJa4SsTCE44n-ASupEhEeDgW0g/s400/14092007248ie5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Being a big fan of any detective/cops reality show, Mads assumed the position of spray out, safety clip released...And gave the front door a kick.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The entrance was normal...</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNm4Q3YABhsULGjwhqPq6U1loHzAcuPDkyLxORgzGbgy0NJBzcXCvLY7Oo2pX8GbQmUr8UKTnoW2VTfXrUOlGS0JdlUwaK_B0Vc0Y7fc0ugJOaRbvCnn9kc-Mt6kOdey_Af6DveDTl6Oo/s1600-h/Entrance.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168374852702740626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNm4Q3YABhsULGjwhqPq6U1loHzAcuPDkyLxORgzGbgy0NJBzcXCvLY7Oo2pX8GbQmUr8UKTnoW2VTfXrUOlGS0JdlUwaK_B0Vc0Y7fc0ugJOaRbvCnn9kc-Mt6kOdey_Af6DveDTl6Oo/s400/Entrance.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads was about to step into her home when Simona crossed her path.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Simona was an old friend of hers meaning she had known her before moving to Italy. They had met during Mads undergraduate studies and shared a room in a co-op that should have been closed down years before.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Simona was an incredibly interesting person, but borderline annoying/insane. She was a modern hippie which meant that reality was not of particular importance to her. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Don't get me wrong, Mads is all for liberal thinking. She graduated from UC Berkeley and went at least 2 years without shaving her legs. But then she needed to get a job and pay the bills. Call her a sell-out, but if shaving her legs, washing her hair and putting on a suit meant that she no longer had a voice, then so be it.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Anyways</em>, Simona comes from money. Ironically her family is in the oil business and while she refuses to accept a job from them, she has no problem accepting a monthly allowance. She justifies it by using the money to lead a cleansed life filled with organic food, herbs vs pharmaceuticals and regular retreats. Her home is also very green and earthy. It embodies the natural elements of the world in a very stylish and contemporary way.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2418/2275718544_46e00a3328.jpg?v=0"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2418/2275718544_46e00a3328.jpg?v=0" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia June 2007</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2173/2275710692_825393c250_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2173/2275710692_825393c250_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia June 2007</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2141/2274930875_6df8ed58c4_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2141/2274930875_6df8ed58c4_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decoration Austria Jan 2008</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2386/2274895037_e3978c02e0_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2386/2274895037_e3978c02e0_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007</span><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIE1bkcjLB74ELfcq6nd7pTc0sf_JWbdAfk7Uu-dm568tPZ2d-zW9-UhzALtzpNoyGM0bo37RWqImdU8aHy4nSkiSx8k5xuDTNz5kKK1vDDs5IGFRiazIcOiPS8ek8m4_RiMq_XmIR-I/s1600-h/1816674919_0500cbd32e_b.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169123461207466162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIE1bkcjLB74ELfcq6nd7pTc0sf_JWbdAfk7Uu-dm568tPZ2d-zW9-UhzALtzpNoyGM0bo37RWqImdU8aHy4nSkiSx8k5xuDTNz5kKK1vDDs5IGFRiazIcOiPS8ek8m4_RiMq_XmIR-I/s400/1816674919_0500cbd32e_b.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2201/2274902299_fc7c4f9d38_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2201/2274902299_fc7c4f9d38_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia June 2007</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2253/2274852625_bbe99cc81c_b.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2253/2274852625_bbe99cc81c_b.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">While loosing herself in the aura that is Simona's home, Mads was suddenly reminded of the situation at hand.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Simona, what are you doing here?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Simona smiled, cocked her head to the side and reached out to give Mads an Italian double kiss. Mads noticed the underarm hair peeking out of Simona's blouse and i</span><span style="font-size:130%;">n an effort to avoid physical contact, took a quick step back and barked,</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Wait! Why was my door open?!?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"<em>Madonna!</em>, I had to leave it opens. Ferre was a lot of negativity that need escaping. I needed to relax myself. Particularly in my condition"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads look of annoyance prompted additional comments from Simona</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"I'm being so proud of you!"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Proud? Why?!?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yes, We Can! Yes, We Can!" </span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Uhhhh...Are you referring to Obama?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yes, I Am! Yes, I Am!"</span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Okay...Okay...I get it. But what does that have to do with me?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Because you and your peoples will electing him and he will make America the better!"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Me and my people?!?!"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yes! Barak peoples! You should all standing together! Just like wif da Martin Luther King!"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Barak people?....Oh...Ok....I get it. You mean BLACK People. It's B-L-A-C-K. They are two different words, <em>cara mia</em>."</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Oh dear..." </span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Simona looked up pondering the mistake and mouthed out the spelling while using her index finger to write the two words in the air above her*<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads, whose patience had completely run out not only with Simona but with the European OBSESSION with Obama, sharply cut into Simona's not so intellectual moment</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"So, listen. Can you tell me <em>exactly </em>why you are here, minus the political commentary?</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yes, I can"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads at this point wanting to assassinate Obama herself, let out a sigh of annoyance that obviously got Simona's attention.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Okay, <em>Bellissima amica mia,</em> you know when you have sending me a Christmas card and you have been wrote that if I ever needed you I could always be counting on your friendship?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"No, not really"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Well, that's why I brought it just in case you had been forgetting. See? It's here! <em>Guarda!</em>"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Damn! Mads had stupidly written those words 3 years before.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Well, now I am needing your help. And I am not BLACK, B-L-A-C-K, but I'm still a friend. So remember what it is meaning to saying Yes, We Can!"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">With a long blink and the nod of her head, Mads gave Simona the OK to continue.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"<em>Allora, </em>I'm in pregnant. With Zikulman's baby. He have asked me to marry him, but our new house wont be ready for another in 3 months and the house I'm living now isn't correct for my condition"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads was slowly digesting the implications of this. Now it was clear why </span><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/youll-see.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">Moody Mitch was in such a good mood</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> and why</span><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2008/01/spiraling-out-of-control.html"><span style="font-size:130%;"> Sinthia was spitting fire just minutes before</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">. Everything was starting to make sense and Mads was finding herself in the middle of it all. And then Simona's final request hit like a gong 2 centimeters from her ears...</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Can we come for staying with you? Just until we can be moving onto our place?"</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mads head cleared astonishingly fast. There was silence and the room came back into focus. And with a voice as clear as a pistol firing in the desert she replied,</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"No, You Can't!!"</span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">* This event <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">actually took place.</span> I can't make this kinda stuff up...</span><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em></em></strong></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-74632708329593595922008-02-14T20:55:00.004+01:002008-02-20T01:09:16.485+01:00I Hate Thursdays<span style="font-size:130%;">As the Director of Studies I should be exempt from the 'Crap Classes'. The ones that give you more stress than gratification.<br /><br />Put frankly, the ones with zit-faced, BO ridden, back talking pre-pubescent kids.<br /><br />Somehow I got stuck with such class, and by 7pm Thursday Evenings, not only has all my make-up worn off, but my nerves are burnt to a crisp. Aside from the contraceptive like effects of spending 3 hours with 11-15 year olds, I rarely find any positive points.<br /><br />But sometime between climbing the walls and aiming spitballs at the back of my head, one of my little 11-year old rugrats produced this:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggB_svch_MmxRUoBIuyRPePqridhZi0GAhFYcNw_WidybgKha3oivFry6-YD6x8FzAJ5v8Jsnr2shcbUA0l7B_x7Jhgn6RjPbYy7qyvcpyyXMnrDZh6pp-Q9PO_LhClovFXQMXNRMlwnY/s1600-h/CCF02142008_00000.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggB_svch_MmxRUoBIuyRPePqridhZi0GAhFYcNw_WidybgKha3oivFry6-YD6x8FzAJ5v8Jsnr2shcbUA0l7B_x7Jhgn6RjPbYy7qyvcpyyXMnrDZh6pp-Q9PO_LhClovFXQMXNRMlwnY/s400/CCF02142008_00000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168847492378828962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br />I dont know why I love this letter. It just made me smile and laugh and kinda love this kid.<br /><br />Until, of course, he puts crazy glue on my chair again.</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-68773199007759575042008-02-10T03:39:00.001+01:002008-11-05T12:51:42.443+01:00I Remember<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2208/2254139252_035566f63b_o.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2208/2254139252_035566f63b_o.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember my life in America.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember the looks I would get. You don't belong here.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember walking to my friends house in Darien Connecticut and being repeatedly pulled over by the police and being repeatedly asked where I was going and who I worked for.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember food shopping when a woman cut in line. I remember my mother pointing it out and the woman responding, “Niggers think they own this place”. I remember wondering what the word Nigger meant but being too afraid to ask.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember being encouraged by my hippy English teacher to enter into a Shakespeare recitation contest. I remember preparing and pouring my heart into it. I remember an elderly woman with a sweet smile and silver hair coming up to me at the end and congratulating me on my bravery. I remember her looking me dead in my eyes, hands on both of my shoulders and telling me to go home and tell all of my friends about what I had done. She had assumed I was from the Ghetto. I was raised in private schools in Marin County California and Fairfield County Connecticut. I remember wishing she had just told me I had done a good job and left it at that.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember telling everyone my father was dead because I was too embarrassed to be just another Black kid who's father wasn't in her life.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember falling in love and being told that it was not suitable for me to be anything other than her son's friend. I then remember her smiling and offering me cookies.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember my mother telling me that I would have to work twice as hard as all the others. I remember her saying that while I will always be seen, I will never be recognized or rewarded. I remember her being right on far too many occasions.<br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember the surgeries, the pain, the seizures.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember giving up on it all.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember my mother by my side.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I cant do this.</span></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Yes You Can.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember leaving this earth. It was not like they said. There was no light. It was calm and dark and I could hear the surgeons speaking</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I cant stop the bleeding.<br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I cant control the pressure.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember thinking</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; FONT-STYLE: italic; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Yes You Can.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">And when I came back, I remember my mother words</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;">You did it. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I knew could.</span></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I remember loosing all hope in America. I remember not caring anymore. I remember giving up, never to return home again.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">Then I heard the words again...</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Yes We Can.</span></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">And I heard the song and the speech and for a split second I stood in my stance, with my hands on my hips and head held high...</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">Because for the 1<sup>st</sup> time EVER IN MY LIFE...</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">I was proud to be American. I was proud of my country. I was moved. I was fundamentally part of something that I was so far from. Part of a country I have always felt separated from.</span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzUgmRrWjD9k0E8lAIwqJ0WPukUeF3Wm_Va1jGS78nWBfSSt-aK8FMC-MzmCBpVT1-NL5kSVTvQBQ3BuFl5vA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />I can put aside everything for a real movement. Those shivers that run up and down my spine are not those of fear. They are those of excitement.<br /><br /></span><p></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">There has been a vast aura of inspiration rotating recently.<br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">People are fighting the odds.<br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">The power to inspire.<br /></span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;">Can you feel it? </span></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Yes, I can.</span></span></div><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /></span></span></p>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-77050904535563815282008-02-01T15:29:00.001+01:002008-02-20T00:01:42.132+01:00He's So Cool<div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">He was still at least two floors up, but the smell and smoke from his cigarette was already bitch slapping MAds in the face. She let out a little cough, just to clear her throat. Before she saw a face she heard his voice again,</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">" You are so <em>pre-dic-table,</em> you know."</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Without even being able to get a remark off, Pierre Zikulman swung around the banister with a tilted head and a sly smile. He greeted MAds with a cigarette in hand and a delicate point in her direction, "I sink it was you zat brought zis <em>re-vo-lu-tion </em>of anti-smoke to Europe, wiz your Stupid little cough and Ugly <em>dis-a-pro-val</em>!....Am I bozering you?" The final words punctuated by a long drag on the newly lit fag.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">MAds was about to </span><a href="http://self-proclaimed-bad-ass.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-gonna-say-it.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">Give The Speech</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> but then decided that rolling her eyes and muttering an effective <em>Whatever</em> would suffice.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">You see, Pierre Zikulman was that stereotypical Frenchman that has pretty much ruined it for all French people internationally. He was arrogant, self righteous, a little stinky, and always over eager to insult a person in the most mundane of circumstances. Having said that, he was also a very successful fashion photographer which allowed him to travel extensively and, unfortunately, perpetuate the stereotype on innocent and defenseless nations. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">His success also allowed him the pleasure of beautiful residences in the top fashion cities in the world. My favorite is his eclectic flat in Milan. Dark and heavy like the winter fog or the summer heat...But with a punch of creativity and spirit that will always keep him and this city one step ahead of the rest. Combine this over exaggerated French ego-centric arrogant attitude with that level of style and you get this knockout apartment</span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLRO-S5sUW5oMIGXE7ktcQI1NJP-ZQnF23DwfYl4HYoEfgwBaWdAfW0WYgEGFnfzOqUHOMXK2s4sLY39S_dlDbRPjvmz8R75jSgH8sjWs9ryd7m5JJ5_WoHIahMpd_Y-YYrc6iuvPf6A/s1600-h/AD+Italia+Nov.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162045748256171362" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLRO-S5sUW5oMIGXE7ktcQI1NJP-ZQnF23DwfYl4HYoEfgwBaWdAfW0WYgEGFnfzOqUHOMXK2s4sLY39S_dlDbRPjvmz8R75jSgH8sjWs9ryd7m5JJ5_WoHIahMpd_Y-YYrc6iuvPf6A/s400/AD+Italia+Nov.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia 2007<br /><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;">This room put him on the map. As with his photography your eye is shocked and drawn as if he is whispering in your ear where to look next. Its a maze and in some kind of complicated code you follow and are able to decipher the message and reach the end without any missed turns.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2046/2240835450_4a32bb31b2_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2046/2240835450_4a32bb31b2_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia 2007</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;">As you can see Zikulman takes every opportunity he gets to showcase his work...<span style="font-style: italic;">and himself.</span></span><br /><br /><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGah3Z_9k6qs5uyMY5kIPO6X7jT_C0DLw9mKD-DS24vVUmuOuzafbsqHMsaOv1UUkdLGUCEwzFbLpHXvwtBjKjR2AyaygU-HKhoGqwtj0VTJtVtBsxKMcTwQZNltcShKJoW9vjtFUaORc/s1600-h/Elle+Decoration+Austria+Jan+Feb+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162045774025975154" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGah3Z_9k6qs5uyMY5kIPO6X7jT_C0DLw9mKD-DS24vVUmuOuzafbsqHMsaOv1UUkdLGUCEwzFbLpHXvwtBjKjR2AyaygU-HKhoGqwtj0VTJtVtBsxKMcTwQZNltcShKJoW9vjtFUaORc/s400/Elle+Decoration+Austria+Jan+Feb+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Elle Decoration Austria 2008<br /><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;">And his inspiration room is right out of left field. He claims the colour and vibrance take him to another level of creativity in the house. The other rooms just hint at what can be possible...He says that this one screams it.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Man, he is so cool.<br /><br />But why is he back after such a long absence? Who called him and what does he want?...</span><br /><br /></div></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-18719984519460420202008-01-31T22:59:00.000+01:002008-02-01T03:05:06.177+01:00Spiralling Out of Control<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Previously on Cabella Place...<br /><br /><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/spin-it.html">Moody Mitch</a>, ex-husband of Sinthia, <a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/youll-see.html">warns MAds</a> of drama brewing in <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgg-0vqlM0y3NAE_bUF4y0rmbvkqBrNto2BAhqkoUBSa8q2zyKNhY8tC9e72TxS2krjbnePD0n6DhVrckQK4eVCmYJfOgCXRe0BRCYoPer_ox2iMZq2UtF521O8w1QWYeZ5FinCSZcw4/s1600-h/building.jpg">Cabella Place</a>. MAds has no idea what to expect when she walks into the building, but figures it may have to do with <a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/diva.html">Sinthia</a> who has the penthouse apartment and is not exactly one to avoid controversy.<br /><br />It could, however, also involve <a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-land-far-far-away.html">Madison</a>, who although annoyingly perfect, not immune to skeletons hiding in her closet. But Madison is currently out of town working on her screenplay at her country house while attempting to avoid the watchful and sometimes perverse eyes of <a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/11/built-to-last.html">Mr & Mrs Franshpipal</a>. Plus, the voices MAds hears are coming from the the top floor. One is definitely that of Sinthia, the other is distinctly familiar, but not recognizable.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></span><br /><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/1738232013_f2cd72b476_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/1738232013_f2cd72b476_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dschwabe/1738232013/">Daniel Schwabe</a></span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">MAds Looks up the staircase hoping to get a glimpse of something. She is carrying a plastic shopping bag filled with groceries which is crinkling and crunching, making her spy/ninja walk completely useless.<br /><br />Voices turn to screeches, doors slam and then the sound of footsteps and random mutterings reveal just exactly who is involved...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-24836268927358328932008-01-31T01:55:00.005+01:002008-02-01T02:31:57.120+01:00The Authentic Expat<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRwYYfouoh9P3ipL4O3DpCcogCBeWLTJtRSWyQkikhS4K4Xx5bIubNig1VIKb1f4KJeUWNW91bP8vR7ZoojZnVUosL-crrhHqiOTPf5VGZaOTLH6Vwb8_sV6wB52yXlJBW23FSCOjkO8/s1600-h/CCF01272008_00003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRwYYfouoh9P3ipL4O3DpCcogCBeWLTJtRSWyQkikhS4K4Xx5bIubNig1VIKb1f4KJeUWNW91bP8vR7ZoojZnVUosL-crrhHqiOTPf5VGZaOTLH6Vwb8_sV6wB52yXlJBW23FSCOjkO8/s400/CCF01272008_00003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161818080629744962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">AD Italia</span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I will close my eyes and go to this zenly tranquil place when people say really ridiculous things. Yes they are ridiculous because I asked my husband and he told me that I was right. He wasnt looking at me and his nose was in his motorcycle magazine, but he said it, so its true.<br /><br />So I went too far suggesting that expats should just go to Las Vegas instead of moving to metropolitan cities like Rome, Paris, NY, Tokyo and London. My point was that it was a joke for expats to live in these places and then think they are experts or spokespersons for such and such country.<br /><br />I have lived all over the world and the one friend you know who speaks the language fluently, doesn't have an expat contract with housing, furniture, insurance etc allocations (or rich enough to live anywhere) and plans to live in that place until the day they die does not compare to the 150 I know who have 2 year contracts, no roots or ties, and absolutely no intention of doing anything more than taking advantage of this incredible experience.<br /><br />Okay, I'm done.<br /><br />You know I'm not<br /><br />Party people, weigh in...<br /><br />Can expats live authentically on foreign soil?</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-35825491742985933042008-01-27T14:35:00.000+01:002008-01-29T02:13:38.007+01:00Blank Slate<span style="font-size:130%;">Okay party people. Challenge time.<br /><br />I have this terrace. It's about 25 square meters (I'm too lazy to figure out what that is in square feet)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxb904yGjKMHaXjuK4IiolshlbTr65iUgK2U6_6a-61_F_UzzhJy1Aan5rc7qpDa7sX9TbEuC4ffALblES5_Ch61JWMhBc9H-t37ItN8XXqAO75yEV8qYcG1WnOq_DlhQG-HBuWk4722Q/s1600-h/IMG_1063.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxb904yGjKMHaXjuK4IiolshlbTr65iUgK2U6_6a-61_F_UzzhJy1Aan5rc7qpDa7sX9TbEuC4ffALblES5_Ch61JWMhBc9H-t37ItN8XXqAO75yEV8qYcG1WnOq_DlhQG-HBuWk4722Q/s400/IMG_1063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160680910728717474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I've been living in this building for about 4 years but I'd been so obsessed with the reconstruction of the house (lived with no hot water for a year!), the layout and making it a <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14286691@N03/sets/72157602200898825/">relax zone</a>, that I didn't really put any effort into the terrace. In all honesty, I'm still considering if it is even worth the trouble. Let's look at the situation...<br /><br />Cons:<br /><br />1. It's not attached to the house. You have to walk up 2 flights of stairs to get to it.<br />2. It's unprotected and we can get very high winds in the area. I'd have to sort out what would be structurally safe.<br />3. I cant build a fixed structure that is closed on any of its sides. Just gazebo-like open structures, so as to avoid any building violations.<br />4. Since I cant close off any of the sides I have neighbors who have direct views= No Privacy...Trees/plants maybe? But there is the wind factor...<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpkaA4iEzIQki-3CeLCuoI2IXOXiD3G1j1_y1_mNekadOHgLyvveshS2joupae3_mwx3eDy8xqEc8Nww5XK6q_eZa6gk4EUN6yR8DgZFs0JWhHcu1jp4betccUA6yNg3pdWBeEBqZD8A/s1600-h/IMG_1072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpkaA4iEzIQki-3CeLCuoI2IXOXiD3G1j1_y1_mNekadOHgLyvveshS2joupae3_mwx3eDy8xqEc8Nww5XK6q_eZa6gk4EUN6yR8DgZFs0JWhHcu1jp4betccUA6yNg3pdWBeEBqZD8A/s400/IMG_1072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160681632283223314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Pros:<br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">The View...<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDYLEp5Okb0F2JshjyL9JsqK8bJW-qsOJEfTmP_WDee-9qXdZgOZ9trhGOa0Di-82Dqz7jLxRhepvJ1MiryMFbFjVyTksbdJtIEvuKpy2RJ_t5Apt2CwhjxF0647mpy6J-9qx3LlDeX0I/s1600-h/IMG_1065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDYLEp5Okb0F2JshjyL9JsqK8bJW-qsOJEfTmP_WDee-9qXdZgOZ9trhGOa0Di-82Dqz7jLxRhepvJ1MiryMFbFjVyTksbdJtIEvuKpy2RJ_t5Apt2CwhjxF0647mpy6J-9qx3LlDeX0I/s400/IMG_1065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160680927908586690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Behind the castle tower is Portofino.<br />Oh my God...I live next to a castle and I have a view of Portofino!</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLPBtQUM6LR41HunqmTRZpOLN2G9zD7a9AkD4I80aSScBcqVglRw4xFMP3rf08yVaULZgCQJbwzJHyMhUsB8x8yAqmZ1yzwGJ8LsSQ2qDv_tCwa72zqH7ExAsGInuLdOMg8zUASiuXHc/s1600-h/IMG_1068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLPBtQUM6LR41HunqmTRZpOLN2G9zD7a9AkD4I80aSScBcqVglRw4xFMP3rf08yVaULZgCQJbwzJHyMhUsB8x8yAqmZ1yzwGJ8LsSQ2qDv_tCwa72zqH7ExAsGInuLdOMg8zUASiuXHc/s400/IMG_1068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160680940793488610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">This is an example of what others have done. I intend to step it up a notch.<br />Check out my uninterrupted view of the city and the Mediterranean sea.</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">2. Little Eva would have her own private park (which would be very spoiled of her as we live 10 minutes from <a href="http://www.gruppogenova.it/RighieisuoiForti/tabid/99/Default.aspx">Righi </a>where she goes running every day)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcdRkbbmki0nrgtPWFCohhjBTH1FcD7zm4plPlaiKwv-KaWTMSB2dwq-LVTU5LTDotezus2VRyDr9sXayqXqw5vz-yx4fYz8QVopdURnADpN05YioaUuFeJlmM_ApejaJUgNu_cdXC8o/s1600-h/IMG_1076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcdRkbbmki0nrgtPWFCohhjBTH1FcD7zm4plPlaiKwv-KaWTMSB2dwq-LVTU5LTDotezus2VRyDr9sXayqXqw5vz-yx4fYz8QVopdURnADpN05YioaUuFeJlmM_ApejaJUgNu_cdXC8o/s400/IMG_1076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160681627988256002" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So what's your vote? Put time and effort into this or not?<br /><br />If so, give me some suggestions on the who what when where and how. I need a spring board people...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;" >THINK!</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-89510338771379253082008-01-26T14:56:00.001+01:002008-01-27T14:31:05.549+01:00'Drawers' in Light<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrhdthZhJw8OF99lPJ_RsbHk4mICFW2SDM3o8HcVq2lEsy87M2GOxw3rh07Mh-uoIIyqo5zG_1gIemiBF0X3GLZDHFH7_wK-6rz3tz-frGo3JYTNPQm_gFz7vS9Pht1VvTeyuzN-JQtw/s1600-h/'Drawers'+in+Light.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrhdthZhJw8OF99lPJ_RsbHk4mICFW2SDM3o8HcVq2lEsy87M2GOxw3rh07Mh-uoIIyqo5zG_1gIemiBF0X3GLZDHFH7_wK-6rz3tz-frGo3JYTNPQm_gFz7vS9Pht1VvTeyuzN-JQtw/s400/'Drawers'+in+Light.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159784057132803218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/-light/friday-photo-light-041273">Apartment Therapy</a> has got this new theme of light going on.<br /><br />I'm not the sharpest in the bunch, so I couldn't figure out how to submit this photo to the contest. As a result, I've decided to run my own little show!<br /><br />• Title: 'Drawers' in Light<br />• Location: Liguria, Italy (My stairwell looking into courtyard)<br />• Your Name: MAds<br />• Short description: 'Drawers' is us black folks name for underwear (pronounced </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >draws</span><span style="font-size:130%;">). So if you read the title correctly it should be Draws in Light.<br /><br />Funny side note: Those are my uncle's (by marriage) underwear!</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-2516209650014919772008-01-26T12:04:00.000+01:002008-01-26T15:44:54.365+01:00Table Manners<span style="font-size:130%;">I think I would have much better table manners, and my husband would certainly eat with his mouth closed if we had Fine China like this...</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDsTdGsTq1OEZGnbhnCc_a5jeqrdiNSTUl4jf0NAJ9b1MOzXp1tmIK8jLx47x2PbaqX6ngnpnl9Eny7z4bpXFqTlSqh_7ARSpDgkVsPoNJZ5RsCSeGmVPC52p67kCqYhxV3dqVTmG-VU/s1600-h/Table+Manners5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDsTdGsTq1OEZGnbhnCc_a5jeqrdiNSTUl4jf0NAJ9b1MOzXp1tmIK8jLx47x2PbaqX6ngnpnl9Eny7z4bpXFqTlSqh_7ARSpDgkVsPoNJZ5RsCSeGmVPC52p67kCqYhxV3dqVTmG-VU/s400/Table+Manners5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741021560497154" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmaZ_kiMrgFHgFt8-HAiwp8zh9AO8LYtF3YZiSEvIfv8RGyrEZyhOqjiJyinkQqwET-OQiU7X3wGZQHuEvT3e1rM1SOcY_XlERHQqhSjplA2bLDupe2s76-MlDAWeufN3lBkfohRddzw/s1600-h/Table+Manners2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmaZ_kiMrgFHgFt8-HAiwp8zh9AO8LYtF3YZiSEvIfv8RGyrEZyhOqjiJyinkQqwET-OQiU7X3wGZQHuEvT3e1rM1SOcY_XlERHQqhSjplA2bLDupe2s76-MlDAWeufN3lBkfohRddzw/s400/Table+Manners2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159744771066946690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYIvZkNim-uYfX8SD80vJs5zScJX7uPA0IE5mtrBDCk6g6CUt5-sIAAzeu0Huvujpn02PxL7vKsZYF5rEyaWqCUwWAu5lFzZRpfzpWq-PvhwmY32PaqEiQeZsxjEav2Uzkjr3ZSYwoDo/s1600-h/Table+Manners.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYIvZkNim-uYfX8SD80vJs5zScJX7uPA0IE5mtrBDCk6g6CUt5-sIAAzeu0Huvujpn02PxL7vKsZYF5rEyaWqCUwWAu5lFzZRpfzpWq-PvhwmY32PaqEiQeZsxjEav2Uzkjr3ZSYwoDo/s400/Table+Manners.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159743959318127730" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtV6Gel88x0CHnETn5iEDodewi6pBE7BstjOLHx9ba5yzHXnaHNDjU62ztpPA7vQ4cmJ_Zdt02CAhcXEptX8EtP9oIvExx9cLFFy-1B6_xtLB8Svpr6cLM20Nc8ARbJ6u-juV07kmr2Ks/s1600-h/Table+Manners6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtV6Gel88x0CHnETn5iEDodewi6pBE7BstjOLHx9ba5yzHXnaHNDjU62ztpPA7vQ4cmJ_Zdt02CAhcXEptX8EtP9oIvExx9cLFFy-1B6_xtLB8Svpr6cLM20Nc8ARbJ6u-juV07kmr2Ks/s400/Table+Manners6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741025855464466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjELWLzrxbd6vZsZvz8KJERuNv8jxDGSZjv_MBGOnG_dYX4u3i3w08LTXFgN-rBhW9gvw0mqsQVpUdvm54Mqa6UQE2AC31U7r_21HY98Ml9T7o-rl8uZ8zveHVKsNJOl8awf6hYPWYXI/s1600-h/Table+Manners7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjELWLzrxbd6vZsZvz8KJERuNv8jxDGSZjv_MBGOnG_dYX4u3i3w08LTXFgN-rBhW9gvw0mqsQVpUdvm54Mqa6UQE2AC31U7r_21HY98Ml9T7o-rl8uZ8zveHVKsNJOl8awf6hYPWYXI/s400/Table+Manners7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741030150431778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOjSzWTJyXTWyZ0oaMbYHQLJv5URvKIQDoJTNr50somj4dzAT8W-dPvK9xBhwj2_M-esncgYyga5EXsfOggg-imcIMO7kcr5lbOKC4f84dg-8okwCgyNVVt6gH6bdoQVtBbuFEoXECqY/s1600-h/Table+Manners8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOjSzWTJyXTWyZ0oaMbYHQLJv5URvKIQDoJTNr50somj4dzAT8W-dPvK9xBhwj2_M-esncgYyga5EXsfOggg-imcIMO7kcr5lbOKC4f84dg-8okwCgyNVVt6gH6bdoQVtBbuFEoXECqY/s400/Table+Manners8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741038740366386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLBfMpTacql1GiVs-EKqBVvsel5miL4vF-xOZI212ABM98CK92HFrv1sZxPtlAD43SvkKmbUtdnuEXZ_2lSanKkumM3OCIMfhWzkibTC9ixa4wFVdetQwLth_7jGNWrVKbaDvXaa0qR8/s1600-h/Table+Manners9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLBfMpTacql1GiVs-EKqBVvsel5miL4vF-xOZI212ABM98CK92HFrv1sZxPtlAD43SvkKmbUtdnuEXZ_2lSanKkumM3OCIMfhWzkibTC9ixa4wFVdetQwLth_7jGNWrVKbaDvXaa0qR8/s400/Table+Manners9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741043035333698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLG2shhZTbZCDQQj81BPN7MtAq9qApCOHXDTw812l_9VQHFsQU-zVLvVS-CAsmGwCDPkDaMu055tq_ZCaVYKxXqRpi8oU2VHt1llgWIDXRVnsNoW9TSPlOIx2nCvjigw54F5y8K-KDUo/s1600-h/Table+Manners10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLG2shhZTbZCDQQj81BPN7MtAq9qApCOHXDTw812l_9VQHFsQU-zVLvVS-CAsmGwCDPkDaMu055tq_ZCaVYKxXqRpi8oU2VHt1llgWIDXRVnsNoW9TSPlOIx2nCvjigw54F5y8K-KDUo/s400/Table+Manners10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741476827030610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKg3YEO0CD4ySnpbvJvgHlk2OikIKaz_SRIN8JtN2xOEsqtkQyWPyzk9JfufdbR_p_Up2IfP676Tdm3hvxiATJTDMVJH4tTbqzdabXiWsqk6FOj2kfnLARvPXVq5NLidwmy_xNPAAVDBM/s1600-h/Table+Manners11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKg3YEO0CD4ySnpbvJvgHlk2OikIKaz_SRIN8JtN2xOEsqtkQyWPyzk9JfufdbR_p_Up2IfP676Tdm3hvxiATJTDMVJH4tTbqzdabXiWsqk6FOj2kfnLARvPXVq5NLidwmy_xNPAAVDBM/s400/Table+Manners11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159741489711932514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDDbxsVNPlP0IgeJA4NLtJfDMgb2sONiwkRWsEV1KtShTpYWqhQZNLkHoZ3oF2MTzInljYIaCIWdmMiLG-t-r_p7YAJTzmuEy5ZWhs6ff6b7H-n49mLkRn08inPr95ANeE6FL4FN_hFI/s1600-h/Table+Manners.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDDbxsVNPlP0IgeJA4NLtJfDMgb2sONiwkRWsEV1KtShTpYWqhQZNLkHoZ3oF2MTzInljYIaCIWdmMiLG-t-r_p7YAJTzmuEy5ZWhs6ff6b7H-n49mLkRn08inPr95ANeE6FL4FN_hFI/s400/Table+Manners.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159740149682135986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">All taken in the </span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:130%;" >Imperial Silver Collection Museum, Vienna Austria</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-53851862460609081402008-01-26T11:35:00.001+01:002008-01-26T15:45:03.179+01:00Window Shopping in Milan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWBxO7NO-oN9s1PNP34dkRDuNM5uQ087udM6LuLCDbYZuoaD7UASceqFJR-1tnNfFOgf2JN809AYDI4srPxiNs2FRuyFh5bG5wgZAly7IK2GC2l9M0yv9hdGnvJupYVBQ49kZmiRZbAs/s1600-h/Window+Shopping.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWBxO7NO-oN9s1PNP34dkRDuNM5uQ087udM6LuLCDbYZuoaD7UASceqFJR-1tnNfFOgf2JN809AYDI4srPxiNs2FRuyFh5bG5wgZAly7IK2GC2l9M0yv9hdGnvJupYVBQ49kZmiRZbAs/s400/Window+Shopping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159732126683227042" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">PRADA Display, Milan November 2007<br /></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-26580899005286764472008-01-25T17:03:00.000+01:002008-01-25T21:01:19.661+01:00Dissed and Dismissed<div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl79JbNWeAddwTq5AD0PuE95HXp4LOHmgco3lWLZuV0AhSxs0NF1pWxqcCNRsh4UDCA5VIQ5cwvcXUhJOD-xwmkoHUhTe1uBnYR6KrOf4AALzA3UxI6jAFroH67eJwzL2gCo7p6dQSbcU/s1600-h/Whatever_by_sya_BY_STACY_REED_www_shedreamsindigital_net_NO_HOTLINKING_ALLOWED.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159451472045269810" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl79JbNWeAddwTq5AD0PuE95HXp4LOHmgco3lWLZuV0AhSxs0NF1pWxqcCNRsh4UDCA5VIQ5cwvcXUhJOD-xwmkoHUhTe1uBnYR6KrOf4AALzA3UxI6jAFroH67eJwzL2gCo7p6dQSbcU/s400/Whatever_by_sya_BY_STACY_REED_www_shedreamsindigital_net_NO_HOTLINKING_ALLOWED.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> <a href="http://luxton.blogware.com/blog/DigitalArt/_archives/2007/2/18/2746530.html">(link)</a></span><a href="http://luxton.blogware.com/blog/DigitalArt/_archives/2007/2/18/2746530.html"> </a><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Okay, back to Plan A. Which is a good thing because this little </span><a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2008/01/interview.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">'distraction'</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> has left some overesights in the past week that need tending to.<br /><br />Plus, Plan B has now been replaced with the following proposal:<br /><br />After the final exam session (mid June 2008), enroll in a distance Interior Design program in London. I would need to go each month to present my projects. Thats not a prob as it takes an hour and a half and with Ryanair at a cost of around 70euro, its very do-able. </span></div><br /><br /><a href="http://www.ryanair.com/site/EN/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159448611597050626" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoF6I23MbCQsElHxcsHHI7X85tN11Hi25JaCxIPi4iP4HXpJR0-NAK_NVvZdRTzIjaRcyBSynyHBDU5eM7hgciCiD7c1s8lYpgywhxJrw77lQz8Oz3QSh00f54aM2OIiWA-n-VeehtmEo/s400/logoyel4.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">So who needs LV and a jet-setter lifestyle, when Ive got that! </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><p align="left"><br /></p>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-76405144290776048492008-01-21T18:24:00.001+01:002008-01-21T21:58:30.965+01:00Where you at?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgQXlr_jNxLrYl9JcsdB10Q13h6ScU1wjBS5i-MOOvcXFawGtb3WYQV3YfX2rLAf5FDE9ED190Vc0XJLkHg4C6ShRZ9c1ICCW98UaOabZt5LaCoyASpncFdS1uc7ApmSgykCaFbUpo0E/s1600-h/wp44f7db0b.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158000262341450754" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgQXlr_jNxLrYl9JcsdB10Q13h6ScU1wjBS5i-MOOvcXFawGtb3WYQV3YfX2rLAf5FDE9ED190Vc0XJLkHg4C6ShRZ9c1ICCW98UaOabZt5LaCoyASpncFdS1uc7ApmSgykCaFbUpo0E/s400/wp44f7db0b.png" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9uiCOPS2x2rYHAT-kL6kLQ131foj4mos7yBE8aGIwBz3fKWnBMjvRFrhzUF8hT0Lvsw9dMgqFhkQ0yvMspDKI29d3-g7q55kA5l3aPTyt7nKKHVLSppSl0aMTLpWw5_7qMII2KYRrS0/s1600-h/wp130cd0e5.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157992424026135458" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9uiCOPS2x2rYHAT-kL6kLQ131foj4mos7yBE8aGIwBz3fKWnBMjvRFrhzUF8hT0Lvsw9dMgqFhkQ0yvMspDKI29d3-g7q55kA5l3aPTyt7nKKHVLSppSl0aMTLpWw5_7qMII2KYRrS0/s400/wp130cd0e5.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Seeing as how I live in Europe and all is just a drive away, Ive booked this insane B&B in France for Easter. The description alone is making me giddy...</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>The crusader kingdom heralded the creation of the military orders.<br />The priory is the former residence of the commander of the knights of Saint John competitors but also spiritual brothers of the templars located in a quiet and authentic countryside refined and serene the priory offers you a perfect blend of French and Asian traditions reflecting the owner’s Asian antiques trading.<br /></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb7D4P4LG83bWoY5UOHmB3P7xzRvZBxASEbPdSFUFQECuR3asoydOC7a-h0-ztZfwQRHeIXC7WJDNvfafGoVLwH9OhihA-4Xk4kNdaKTQNKIq8X_Bo4DmRc21dHitQzBfSV6ZTQsMpjM/s1600-h/wpeb82ab77.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157993111220902866" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb7D4P4LG83bWoY5UOHmB3P7xzRvZBxASEbPdSFUFQECuR3asoydOC7a-h0-ztZfwQRHeIXC7WJDNvfafGoVLwH9OhihA-4Xk4kNdaKTQNKIq8X_Bo4DmRc21dHitQzBfSV6ZTQsMpjM/s400/wpeb82ab77.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgo9sDzN_XMB7BrNwc9-FsEUAeXBiF_rqAdmR8eCuXcY1FivGt3IrHZAeryyMbJtft-w_WvI9q1u0EsnhCdxzkB4tjlojbEnWAbfLXvrlCoUzqsUJ7LChjPzVbgaG9gnyIOLAvVvfQ0s/s1600-h/wp0a12c9ba.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157992415436200834" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgo9sDzN_XMB7BrNwc9-FsEUAeXBiF_rqAdmR8eCuXcY1FivGt3IrHZAeryyMbJtft-w_WvI9q1u0EsnhCdxzkB4tjlojbEnWAbfLXvrlCoUzqsUJ7LChjPzVbgaG9gnyIOLAvVvfQ0s/s400/wp0a12c9ba.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhidyuo1AWTqLet50jgLYjiZLOVdshQpaqVNjmtXZO9sPgVjwjtBS4XO4Epag98OqEzoIu5GLP-_YfCrv9gRIVCzlasq_6RV5v5R4zellN278JgW9btgq0gbPiRqk7NaDISmFR-DtZsk/s1600-h/wp223b7aad.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157992424026135474" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhidyuo1AWTqLet50jgLYjiZLOVdshQpaqVNjmtXZO9sPgVjwjtBS4XO4Epag98OqEzoIu5GLP-_YfCrv9gRIVCzlasq_6RV5v5R4zellN278JgW9btgq0gbPiRqk7NaDISmFR-DtZsk/s400/wp223b7aad.png" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >LE PRIEURE DE SACQUENAY : </span><br /></div><div><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >In the former Residence of the Commander of the Knights of Saint John, a spacious groundfloor offering two family guest rooms : private entrance, one large bedroom featuring a queensize bed and an 18th century chinese bed, the other a very confortable twin. New private bathroom and toilets. The second level offers a large combined lounge/dining with kitchen. Breakfast is served in the stone walled Priory, beside the monumental Renaissance fireplace. Refined and serene atmosphere.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn81wyBKSM3BbJvDiJpHRV5__heyAt_0I4qSsJO2g_wM-dJAwih1RL-YDeoK4rfTdRTSr6QOgNZPbnl3JBJElk0P1-XEeUOLZbkoSfO-5fW9WdMPf8PtI6dwY9HuzZF1RaByVrjWxB504/s1600-h/wp9402a0a3.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157992428321102786" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn81wyBKSM3BbJvDiJpHRV5__heyAt_0I4qSsJO2g_wM-dJAwih1RL-YDeoK4rfTdRTSr6QOgNZPbnl3JBJElk0P1-XEeUOLZbkoSfO-5fW9WdMPf8PtI6dwY9HuzZF1RaByVrjWxB504/s400/wp9402a0a3.png" border="0" /></a><br />All that and only <strong>80euro</strong>/night<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.prieuredesacquenay.com/englishversion/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157999944513870834" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxuR4khzbfB4nY_8i3ZTKwp-HVzG9UGxcNKswPnH8279IwyCMdgEIun5TMq-8rcs3c6QIJXtyXe6j8NVa0Rjenx_b9RDET_-ZDILEWqSphaEeka7KvFdCjz2Ztj5XfMCKawGVzoP1Vj-8/s320/wp44f7db0b.png" border="0" /></a></div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong></strong></span></span> </p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>BE THERE.</strong></span></span></p><div align="center"></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-72908858165912266312008-01-20T14:51:00.000+01:002008-01-21T19:42:15.713+01:00Inspiration<span style="font-size:130%;">I've been lacking in inspiration recently. <a href="http://self-proclaimed-bad-ass.blogspot.com/2008/01/inspire-me.html">I asked for help</a>. I got none.<br /><br />So I thought.<br /><br />Then my best friend impressed me more than he will ever know. <a href="http://buildinglapuravida.blogspot.com/">Plan A</a>. Read it.<br /></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5678/3093/1600/790548/IMG_1577.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5678/3093/1600/790548/IMG_1577.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(M. in his element)<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">He is my <a href="http://buildinglapuravida.blogspot.com/2007/08/local-talent.html">biggest supporter</a>. My purest love. My other self. And he is now, once again, my n. 1 hero.<br /><br />Chris and I will find a way to build with you.</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-38688828570013213362008-01-17T20:57:00.000+01:002008-01-21T19:42:22.725+01:00Can I Be Any More Annoyed?<span style="font-size:130%;">Seriously. I dont think I could be any more annoyed than I am right now.<br /><br />Okay, you know in High School when you had a friend who lied about another friend and created a ton of drama and then pretended that nothing was her fault while your other innocent friend got screwed over?<br />You know the one who you continue to despise although you completely appreciate the fact that we are adults now and she is probably not the same. But still you continue to resent her because every now and again you run into her on the street or hear about her from a friend, or whatever, and those forgotten feelings resurface?<br /><br />Well for me Chloë Sevigny is that person</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNk7segZV-kK0RzpE3XKfG4Em5b_I-pYduAoM58nisVi5xzVuz36OUcdwGbjNRtLS9q2k1AyGB4UbjNnro-qIc7EnlAUsOW7M5ifLF13CMHEz3HoXukCV2yEt_pJInM07Y0XiRptKemR8/s1600-h/Chloe_Sevigny_gossip_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNk7segZV-kK0RzpE3XKfG4Em5b_I-pYduAoM58nisVi5xzVuz36OUcdwGbjNRtLS9q2k1AyGB4UbjNnro-qIc7EnlAUsOW7M5ifLF13CMHEz3HoXukCV2yEt_pJInM07Y0XiRptKemR8/s320/Chloe_Sevigny_gossip_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156597998468979490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And I cant even hate her openly because then I get all this flap about just being jealous. Listen to me very carefully<br /><br />I KNEW HER BEFORE SHE WAS FAMOUS. I DIDN'T LIKE HER THEN AND I DON'T LIKE HER NOW.<br /><br />And this smile by the way...</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Profiles/20060912/244.sevigny.chloe.091906.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 200px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Profiles/20060912/244.sevigny.chloe.091906.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://l.yimg.com/img.tv.yahoo.com/tv/us/img/site/60/53/0000036053_20061130153632.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://l.yimg.com/img.tv.yahoo.com/tv/us/img/site/60/53/0000036053_20061130153632.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.realone.com/assets/rn/img/0/2/3/2/14502320-14502322-large.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i.realone.com/assets/rn/img/0/2/3/2/14502320-14502322-large.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">She would spend absurd amounts of time in front of the mirror practicing it and then would ask us if it was right or not.<br /><br />But Okay, she's got a quirky funky style that can be noted and she's done some flicks. Acting? Well she got nominations. Personally, I cant sit through any of her stuff and </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">By The Way</span>, </span><span style="font-size:130%;">even I have done a film with Woody Allen, so don't let any of her rubbing shoulders with the big boys distract you. <em>Fine</em>...I didn't have any actual lines, but he told me to move twice and I'm clearly in the shot with him, which I consider valid co-star status.<br /><br />But all the acting and past aside, I'm currently seeing red for one reason and one reason only...<br /><br />unbeknownst to me, I have been lovingly adoring her home and even booked marked it in my <span style="font-style: italic;">Inspiration File</span>. It wasn't until I was organizing the photos that I actually read the saved title and realized it was her home.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/133/351000916_db5a47fc4f.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/133/351000916_db5a47fc4f.jpg?v=0" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/157/351000883_87ac2969c3.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/157/351000883_87ac2969c3.jpg?v=0" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />That's so annoying. <span style="font-style: italic;">But Damn</span>. It is kinda nice, isnt it?<br /><br />Bitch.<br /></span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-74712279893459807872008-01-15T23:27:00.000+01:002008-01-15T23:51:16.010+01:00Interview<span style="font-size:130%;">So my interview for...</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/51/127508709_4ec2bf6df1.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/51/127508709_4ec2bf6df1.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">...is on Friday. On the US website 'casual business' is listed under office attire. But I'm going for an HR managerial position (not a sales position in a shop, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >pleeeaaaaassse!</span><span style="font-size:130%;">) in Italy. So I'm thinking of going Diva Casual. I just made that up, so I'm not sure what it means. Not a suit, but not jeans either.<br /><br />Something like this?</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4686/1648/1600/RRjkt.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4686/1648/1600/RRjkt.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">All Black with a big bag that <span style="font-style: italic;">pops</span>?...<br /><br />...Or simple with a jacket that stands out?<br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4686/1648/1600/344837/Phila2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4686/1648/1600/344837/Phila2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">...Or the classic Black and White?</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfe8wJ33t0Q1mRf7k4WA92XlW7qa1tvpTtKq98hnSke7ksPHBrpjB9UlHVOChP1m6NXZOmDRLcG0a1KY5JXdhSOPC4uP6gB6YXechbdbGOpXYktev6rZtVjgg0KsFYZa9m5EAkANx-DGpv/s1600/TCHw.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfe8wJ33t0Q1mRf7k4WA92XlW7qa1tvpTtKq98hnSke7ksPHBrpjB9UlHVOChP1m6NXZOmDRLcG0a1KY5JXdhSOPC4uP6gB6YXechbdbGOpXYktev6rZtVjgg0KsFYZa9m5EAkANx-DGpv/s1600/TCHw.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">...Or what about bold and carefree like this?</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" try="" href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20onblur="><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XxxBMF5sQqMW3Qd9IvtK6pZK1zkrvRsyTAeWoBO90UwlqpB7tw-dXyY3BbgAdJiJcslJpIkuZeqLIaXK-V1siR6S8bLFq7wEZwRsJGAFGx6g4xM6skrDl9-b_ZV4O8y9VcpZiNX_k5U/s1600/JSL.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">all photos from the brilliant <a href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/">Sartorialist</a><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;">And whats the rule on wearing the label to the interview? Should I absolutely avoid wearing anything LV? I mean, if someone came to my office wearing anything with my company's name on it, I would write them off as a completely challenged.<br /><br />Input please!!!</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-29801022744530578982008-01-15T00:45:00.000+01:002008-01-15T00:57:53.740+01:00Thievin' Hevin' Part II<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Again. At a loss of words.<br /><br />This is fashion at its perfection.<br />Penis bump and all.<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-should-give-up-now.html">Sartorialist</a><br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMe4HK93xIPa6Y95cO-naWea4xZbFiYtWAji0YdbC9mBTDfcqgFz92PN3N-TDJJdenVYtWnHijs3fd-fOdO34kUSA278RMDMdL5HtCIywTKqH_vtc7EgLB_iIKoS3VjKCKpKSRMK0hsvM/s1600/redflwr.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMe4HK93xIPa6Y95cO-naWea4xZbFiYtWAji0YdbC9mBTDfcqgFz92PN3N-TDJJdenVYtWnHijs3fd-fOdO34kUSA278RMDMdL5HtCIywTKqH_vtc7EgLB_iIKoS3VjKCKpKSRMK0hsvM/s1600/redflwr.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-12013386298546950092008-01-15T00:27:00.000+01:002008-01-15T15:03:08.914+01:00Thievin' Hevin' Part I<span style="font-size:130%;">Its very rare that I get inspired to the point of literal cut and paste, but today it happened. It happened twice, in fact, making me wonder if I have entered into a rut, or if I have used up all my originality tokens.<br /><br />But alas, <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/at-europe/at-europe-paris-chez-francois-and-raphaelle-040238">Apartment Therapy</a> has just organized, in a convenient slideshow, the basic thesis of the Torriglia House. While I wanted the project to be 'mine', my very first total renovation...The fact of the matter is that I am going to do my best to duplicate this home. Thats it.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf1_small.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf1_small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf42.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf42.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf35.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf35.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf40.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photos/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/images/rf40.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/photo/011408chezfrancoisraphaelle/_slide_/medium">Enter Slideshow</a><br /></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-61554172377839997852008-01-06T16:35:00.000+01:002008-01-07T02:46:07.682+01:00They said...<span style="font-size:130%;">They Said This Day Would Never Come....<br /><br />Ok, fine. Works much better when Obama says it, but it's the effect I'm going for here.<br /><br />Sooooo, <span style="font-style: italic;">Finally</span> the dining room is DONE!!! (Applause)<br />The photos don't really do the final product justice, so the three people that actually read this blog will just have to come over for dinner and experience it for reals.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">BEFORE<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKH3vRYjjRxNPyYGHmBcNiAzjAfHCrT5DhRzbNqQWD_RYMSEi9jz1IV1i6aQJTLmGZF6N1n5fiVwXJC2pAci30V0G7NVFmypZUdyduknr_pDCliBoMuCg0plzdzAHMm1AYzQm2L7Lfsw/s1600-h/dr1old.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKH3vRYjjRxNPyYGHmBcNiAzjAfHCrT5DhRzbNqQWD_RYMSEi9jz1IV1i6aQJTLmGZF6N1n5fiVwXJC2pAci30V0G7NVFmypZUdyduknr_pDCliBoMuCg0plzdzAHMm1AYzQm2L7Lfsw/s400/dr1old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388329223477874" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">AFTER</span><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-G6WqRj0_zMXDjuhpOHTNjZfosf1fb2Pd_R15_fmXQrwfu28-q-qUNa2lFmIcznH06RSRZwjJgC43ACwJLrpTiRxscHhiJW3a8HM71hIyU1vpGPKLfXxhavRZ-MDZO5DQet4G_1aaKA/s1600-h/dr1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-G6WqRj0_zMXDjuhpOHTNjZfosf1fb2Pd_R15_fmXQrwfu28-q-qUNa2lFmIcznH06RSRZwjJgC43ACwJLrpTiRxscHhiJW3a8HM71hIyU1vpGPKLfXxhavRZ-MDZO5DQet4G_1aaKA/s400/dr1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388312043608674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Elongated the curtain rod to open things up and got rid of the dead space on either side of the window. Painted the table in a high gloss and took out the extra leafs. Used Mossy plants as <a href="http://cocokelley.blogspot.com/2007/09/house-in-liguria.html">coco+kelley</a> suggested.<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">BEFORE</span><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnl4mWaqwXtvNTDzxH-i9pLmn0iidDcClJL5A9CKhyphenhyphenOwFRd19TKMSAgFryfMSAOb1R5TneWeKXldILSdZZXFqNDl1guF2VvkrPdQjiW3q-fM4ROrzIz602TDip2t1dleBjjfX4-jxa9M/s1600-h/dr2old.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnl4mWaqwXtvNTDzxH-i9pLmn0iidDcClJL5A9CKhyphenhyphenOwFRd19TKMSAgFryfMSAOb1R5TneWeKXldILSdZZXFqNDl1guF2VvkrPdQjiW3q-fM4ROrzIz602TDip2t1dleBjjfX4-jxa9M/s400/dr2old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388342108379794" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">AFTER<br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Ps-dyTYnolfyqvEqa8vhuNmp1uP41u14TlptWu5NLoly6KsQ7afr56fSW8hse0iIWiUZ87Ytwq1JFUC6Q0DREhbvRT9_hWmAS1oDVQ5P3Lis-nFjeWf0CCwIaM3cb8tLpfoPG1tEWJ4/s1600-h/dr4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Ps-dyTYnolfyqvEqa8vhuNmp1uP41u14TlptWu5NLoly6KsQ7afr56fSW8hse0iIWiUZ87Ytwq1JFUC6Q0DREhbvRT9_hWmAS1oDVQ5P3Lis-nFjeWf0CCwIaM3cb8tLpfoPG1tEWJ4/s400/dr4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388887569226418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Incorporated orange (to get rid of the drab mono-colour scheme) and more mossy plants and glassware at various heights. All thanks to <a href="http://cocokelley.blogspot.com/">coco+kelley</a>...Just check out her blog if you dont know about it already!<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">BEFORE</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmv_i2I5kvQu1lllwXa1kBJf4ZZz-w5NFHgVMPBC5z6MBH90nf4AvJXGBps-_CXQ5UqBmMKXQP1FPJj0orDYa8KXcDRAGkK78ahipsBr5AU6yYJfC-faWf5TqT7sfE5zk05bytHVQPdU/s1600-h/dr4old.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmv_i2I5kvQu1lllwXa1kBJf4ZZz-w5NFHgVMPBC5z6MBH90nf4AvJXGBps-_CXQ5UqBmMKXQP1FPJj0orDYa8KXcDRAGkK78ahipsBr5AU6yYJfC-faWf5TqT7sfE5zk05bytHVQPdU/s400/dr4old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388891864193730" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">AFTER</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfNkOGtkBkbLZYtIH6wLmPa2xW_3ChsRfBhEdhKzJyTSCusRn8kEiDJmtv99xfrJ0AeynXd5mMkjCYS8pQOw97x1IWVtv8-ZuJ2YP-roj3TKk72CfldCb5GFlkPoaUhS9Ia3NoHWPFNQ/s1600-h/dr5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfNkOGtkBkbLZYtIH6wLmPa2xW_3ChsRfBhEdhKzJyTSCusRn8kEiDJmtv99xfrJ0AeynXd5mMkjCYS8pQOw97x1IWVtv8-ZuJ2YP-roj3TKk72CfldCb5GFlkPoaUhS9Ia3NoHWPFNQ/s400/dr5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388904749095634" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Its busy, but I love it! The orange runner really brings out the antique dresser.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">BEFORE</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWuu-JdppIbXWEs3eeFvpnt_Aj53eDMN83Dk8oD73s3HTPiQH7VDCLM-9qokZN4vpINsND_pXP1pas0lKftRY_O2u_g_2Cg7mAqwlzQ1lYOJjxKCUa7-eMgvnthAGH9ltM8NKyjM8Cto/s1600-h/dr3old.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWuu-JdppIbXWEs3eeFvpnt_Aj53eDMN83Dk8oD73s3HTPiQH7VDCLM-9qokZN4vpINsND_pXP1pas0lKftRY_O2u_g_2Cg7mAqwlzQ1lYOJjxKCUa7-eMgvnthAGH9ltM8NKyjM8Cto/s400/dr3old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388350698314402" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">AFTER (option 1)</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-a2VUlEBzPH6tc30jdiTy0v79FW78Bgh2WlmGXM01eO6J0OPbmRrlKrFai8IF3BG6NXyodgC9uns-SRNfZXv4Nhgvx8kZqEYwEPAuuF3i7uxwuROtMtWo9rKEgh2rWgVE8-mpX-EzyR8/s1600-h/dr8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-a2VUlEBzPH6tc30jdiTy0v79FW78Bgh2WlmGXM01eO6J0OPbmRrlKrFai8IF3BG6NXyodgC9uns-SRNfZXv4Nhgvx8kZqEYwEPAuuF3i7uxwuROtMtWo9rKEgh2rWgVE8-mpX-EzyR8/s400/dr8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152389205396806402" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">AFTER (option 2)</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlREUzK16sMG5c3MhSx001V2NLAdJ-mAY-NbpPc-5yPKZ4eThcP29X01EcJ70oTjQzreWLx0MSwhjy5FgKABdUoFDOnmNjbssbYjsu7NROVD89zeJ2PuE5E9glXJBy3kLillCpva1Uf64/s1600-h/dr7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlREUzK16sMG5c3MhSx001V2NLAdJ-mAY-NbpPc-5yPKZ4eThcP29X01EcJ70oTjQzreWLx0MSwhjy5FgKABdUoFDOnmNjbssbYjsu7NROVD89zeJ2PuE5E9glXJBy3kLillCpva1Uf64/s400/dr7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152388926223932146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Okay, this corner was the biggest challenge. I had bought this chest on a whim before I really knew how I wanted to reconstruct the apartment. When I put it in the room I hated it and wanted to kick myself for buying something I couldn't use. But I loved it so much that I was determined (okay, obsessed) with finding a spot for it to not only function, but <span style="font-style: italic;">Pop! </span>You cant see it so well here, but I'm obnoxiously giddy over the results. Its fuckin' great. But I cant decide which I prefer, the white vases or the lacquered bowl with Japanese Balls. Input please!<br /><br />Plus, If any of you can identify this chest, I'll be your best friend. Okay, maybe not your best friend, but I'll be less judgmental of you in general. All I know is that it's Louis something...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Stay tuned for the Next Challenge....</span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-55563550171160312492007-12-28T02:30:00.000+01:002008-01-06T19:13:09.625+01:00King of Cool<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ2aOtjUmuRSQ7XUItSei6sXVsPVWeaoOzk-0Ye744wFoddqQfy1gMOF9URttgx3Z-IFK5VHVH1yZ2DVdjR3FL-WEgstyMBGCkkJ8h6aak2JkToBiNN9-7yYRg1XvJqC8O8tBS491RZ0/s1600-h/papa+and+me.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ2aOtjUmuRSQ7XUItSei6sXVsPVWeaoOzk-0Ye744wFoddqQfy1gMOF9URttgx3Z-IFK5VHVH1yZ2DVdjR3FL-WEgstyMBGCkkJ8h6aak2JkToBiNN9-7yYRg1XvJqC8O8tBS491RZ0/s400/papa+and+me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148841854468086290" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">In loving memory of my Papa<br />1921-2007</span><br /></div>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575040906682842522.post-73356573542385516732007-12-27T22:27:00.000+01:002007-12-28T00:05:56.910+01:00Vienna<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3UP7sDHa2ZPHY5yJdP_guEMmJ3rhJhIA6b8aZWjjFg3e_j9OdWQOIUvjj3NPIFSgDpTWqmhnqzoBCShPhrx5CApUSUOPRF_cayX-BMqEP6w3Rayi3VElXNhB3FYeR1Uvrclp-3nijc0/s1600-h/2007-01-31-vienna-heads5-small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3UP7sDHa2ZPHY5yJdP_guEMmJ3rhJhIA6b8aZWjjFg3e_j9OdWQOIUvjj3NPIFSgDpTWqmhnqzoBCShPhrx5CApUSUOPRF_cayX-BMqEP6w3Rayi3VElXNhB3FYeR1Uvrclp-3nijc0/s400/2007-01-31-vienna-heads5-small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148767736217459106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Leave for Vienna tomorrow. It better fucking snow because I had to dish out 350euro for snow chains!<br /><br /><br /><br /></span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3cd2z6-Rj2pL3oUsmE2yBMeCx9r52LGUcDvWaNhRoPsd6S5enhzo5M-FtgcZgnEm0h87Z_TkIIJ4W_LfTiYtpS3Ead8QDgmgp1l-U3j-Spy-rE24W8uu255dmaSSOW38T4t0D1qbl_I/s1600-h/minichains.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3cd2z6-Rj2pL3oUsmE2yBMeCx9r52LGUcDvWaNhRoPsd6S5enhzo5M-FtgcZgnEm0h87Z_TkIIJ4W_LfTiYtpS3Ead8QDgmgp1l-U3j-Spy-rE24W8uu255dmaSSOW38T4t0D1qbl_I/s400/minichains.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148772263112989106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">What I was last to find out was that with the Mini Cooper D, you cant just grab the cheap set of snow chains. Noooooo, You have to get special ones to fit the special tires. Thats so absurd. But I love my car, so I'm just going to let it go.<br /><br />I still haven't packed or anything related to leaving town for 10 days, but I have about 4 hours tomorrow morning to stress about that. As for my <a href="http://bunkamadison.blogspot.com/2007/12/dear-winter-boots.html">Timberlands</a>...Looks like they will see another winter holiday...<br /><br />So, since I wont be able to stalk my fav blogs, don't be surprised to see your hits drop drastically. But mid January I'll be back and will be sure not to let any of you down!<br /><br />Happy New Year! </span>MAdshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03946093557922609516noreply@blogger.com2