Posted by sol in life
So today I was feeling less sleepy than the previous days, so instead of diving into my bed this afternoon after work, I spent my time drooling at things I would love to have and use.
I bumped into a FABULOUS web site that sells customized purses, and I made my own, only to find out at the end that they are darn expensive.
So the message is: If you are feeling GENEROUS, visit http://www.freddyandma.com and get me my purses. Thank you.
I’ve moved with these metros around the world. The best? Moscow and Lisbon.
Posted by sol in prattle
I’ve never been particularly fond of being female. Boys have more fun, are less scared of insects and are allowed to go out and explore things on their own. Girls grow breasts and get periods. There’s too much to do to be beautiful, too much to think about. Too much acting required, too much getting dressed. Then if you grow up in a catholic family like mine, there is a lot more to being a woman: submission to men, serving men, being quiet, and being thought of as the root of all sin and evil. Your virginity and purity are regarded as a treasure to preserve in spite of yourself, and if you try to be an individual be prepared to be labeled as something you are not.
But besides all that, acknowledging that you have life inside yourself that grows from you, that will be a part of you but will be an autonomous human being: that is worth it all.
The sixth wedding of the year took us to California for the past two weeks. We were back to Milan on tuesday at 6.30 am, and that same day I was back to work in the afternoon. Crazy me.
Our trip was really different than we expected (expectations are often deceiving), often putting us down a bit, but in the end it was worth while (A little advice for everyone: avoid going in vacation in groups of three. Two is perfect, four is ok.. but three is just diabolic).
I’ll make a list of the things I loved most of it:
San Francisco, Haight Street.
We forgot to carry the camera on that day, but Michele and I really enjoyed our window shopping and real shopping in the hippie neighborhood of town. The atmosphere is so sixties, the shops are the antithesis of Gucci and co. and we loved that. I managed to buy a great pair of boots and Michele got a medal for customer of the year at Amoeba Music, the coolest record store I’ve ever seen.
San Francisco, The Slanted Door.
Warmest thanks to Tom and his SF friends for the recommendations given about eating out. We had one of the best meals of our trip in this ultra cool vietnamese restaurant at the Ferry Building: the pho bo we had will take us back to SF sooner or later, it was simply delicious. And The Slanted Door enters my list of perfect restaurants, with perfect food, service and atmosphere. Noteworthy was the dessert, too. Thai basil panna cotta with mango soup. five stars.
San Jose, can’t remember the name of that taqueria, and doubt it will be on any guide. But I had a great real mexican lunch and thinking of it still makes my mouth water.
Napa, The Bounty Hunter.
Our trip to the Napa Valley saw us exhausted. The one thing we had energy for was dinner, and we were lucky to pick a very interesting little restaurant and wine bar, where we had what many reviewers judge as th best chicken in the Bay Area.
From a review, and to make you mouth water: “[...] The whole bird comes to the table impaled on a Tecate can and looking as if it’s performing a teasing dance, provocatively clothed in a bronzed Cajun rub that accentuates the plumpness of the breast and the succulence of the thighs. The dish was born out of necessity. Southworth didn’t have room to butcher the chickens, so he knew he had to cook them whole on the grill outside. He pours half the beer out of the can, places it in the bird and plugs the neck with lime, which helps to flavor, steam and tenderize the inside while the outside crisps up [...]“
The Yosemite National Park
Amazing landscapes. Had we known that Las Vegas sucked that bad, I think we would have stayed near the Yosemite and seen it more thoroughly. By the way, hated Las Vegas, and two nights there were more than enough: just to see what “tacky” means.
The Death Valley
A kind of spooky trip, impossible not to wonder what would happen if our rented pontiac suddenly broked down in the middle of nowhere. But exciting for the same reason.