Hiatuses – you know how they are.

You know that feeling when you think you’re running as hard as you can, but you just can’t catch up?

It’s been that kind of month, metaphorically speaking — god knows i’m not the kind of person who’d be training for a marathon. All my classes, and my job, and my internship, are all head on, mouth-full-of-saltwater-oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-swim-how-did-i-get-stuck-under-this-massive-wave level difficult, in the sense that I only want to do the best that I can in all of them, and they each just require what feels like too much time and effort to make that happen. So I hope you’ll excuse my whimpering and whining and total and complete absence from ze blog? Ah, merci! I knew you’d understand.

In any case, the blogosphere is currently the one thing in my life where I feel like I just may have a handle on something good, so I figured I’d dust off my old standby of a personal blog even though I’ve been way busy playing with my shiny new toy, the(style)saurus. It’s only got one post so far, but I got great feedback from my boss and my fellow interns about it, and I’m secretly hoping it will be my meal ticket to Conde Nast, or even better, independent wealth and fame and the equivalent of season tickets to every fashion week, ever. I can dream, right?

On a parting note, I’ve had the sweetest little Carla Bruni song stuck in my head. Ima go ahead and leave you with the gorgeous french lyrics.

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud que de nos chagrins il s’en fait des manteaux pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit…

Refrain
Que tu m’aimais encore,
C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore.
Serais ce possible alors ?

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu’il ne nous donne rien et qu’il nous promet tout
Parais qu’le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit …

Refrain

Mais qui est ce qui m’a dit que toujours tu m’aimais?
Je ne me souviens plus c’était tard dans la nuit,
J’entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
“Il vous aime, c’est secret, lui dites pas que j’vous l’ai dit”
Tu vois quelqu’un m’a dit…

Que tu m’aimais encore, me l’a t’on vraiment dit…
Que tu m’aimais encore, serais ce possible alors ?

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
Que de nos tristesses il s’en fait des manteaux,
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit que…

Refrain

500 days of summer

SO INCREDIBLE.

Not just because I have huge crushes on Zoey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt respectively (which I do). It was just a beautifully done movie, from the color scheme to the flawless soundtrack to the realistic plot line which still managed to have a whimsical feel. It must feel so good to be a part of a great film like that — to know you had something to do with making it. I guess that’s a good feeling no matter what you’re doing, but great movies and music and art in particular always give me that same amazing, slightly disconcerting feeling of getting socked in the stomach, but walking away feeling like everything has changed, or that life is in clearer focus. I always envied the people who were talented enough to make me feel that way, and am lucky enough to know a lot of people who will probably be responsible for making me feel that way in the near future (yes, I mean you, all my talented film-maker/musician/artist friends). I quietly hope that one day, I’ll be able to do the same thing for someone, in some capacity. 

Anyways, bottom line: Zoey Deschanel’s eyes are infinitely blue, Joseph Gordon-Levitt is infinitely lovable, and you need to see this movie. 

In other news, my days of summer are quickly winding down, and of course, things are just starting to be SO MUCH FUN. Is that always how it goes, or is it just that life chooses to taunt me and only me in this way? Most of my friends are done work and back from their adventures and ready for the last hurrah before we all head back to school and life, and consequently this past week has just been (and continues to be) one big awesome string of backyard parties, beers, lunch dates, movie nights, silly bbms, and all-you-can-eat sushi. It’s pretty much the best. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still looking forward to being in my new apartment in Boston, back with most of my beautiful amigos (with one notable exception … I still can’t believe you’re gone, L) but it’s great to know that I still belong in Montreal and that there are so many people and places here that I love. 

Well look at me. I’m just one big mushfest, aren’t I? I place full blame that damn adorable movie.

The ‘gunquit.

Since I was young enough for my parents to set up my crib in the sand and hang towels over the top to protect me from the sun (which I suspect were the humble beginnings of my claustrophobia) my family and I have been visiting Ogunquit Beach, Maine. My mom, who is the biggest homebody I’ve ever met, insists on making the 5+ hour trek every year…mostly for the lobster, but still! 

This trip was just as good (and pretty much the exact same) as every other trip. Which has got me thinking: sometimes its the familiarity of a place that makes it incredible, instead of the newness.

Summer check-up.

Due to my consistent state of in-transit-ness, I haven’t had a doctor’s check-up, in…well, in way too long. However, thanks to my trusty little blog, I can check in with the general health and good spirits of my summer as often as I want! I think just once will do it, since it IS already august, after all. 

So far this summer, I have: 

• Read at least 5 books that I can think of — and yes, I’m including finally polishing off my 800-page collection of Fitzgerald short stories after over a year in that list. Started tackling my goal of reading everything Steinbeck has ever written today with Grapes of Wrath. Why they didn’t make me read that in high school, I don’t know, but I digress.
• Gotten a very even, very impressive tan, considering the usual peeling, freckling, pasty condition of my skin in the summer. Even though some old Russian lady asked me why I was so pale as I was sitting in the sun life guarding yesterday. I could only stammer “uhh…I burn easily?” Ouch. 
• Started this blog and created  my lame attempt at a professional website. I’m coming for you, Conde Nast internship! 
• Spent a beautiful three weeks in Boston; two and a half weeks in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Barcelona, and Madrid; and various weekends in Stowe, New York City, and Bridgeton, Maine. Oh, and the majority of my time in the always-awesome Montreal, Quebec. I just can’t stop bouncing around, and am SO looking forward to the epic Cape adventure that September has in store. 
• Made my first chocolate cakes, meatballs, and risottos from scratch. Also, became increasingly obsessed with food, cooking, and a certain Julia Child (if that was even possible). I’m not going Julie Powell on you guys or anything, but I AM bookmarking cooking schools. 
• Attended at least 4 hot yoga classes, 1 hip hop dance class, biked a 40k ride, and swam at least 200 laps in the tiny little apartment pool I lifeguard. I want to say these sporadic attempts at exercise have kept me as in shape as 8 weeks at Camp Kingswood would have, but I’m not sure that’s true. Maybe the fall will be the season I actually start working out regularly? Only time will tell. 
• Spent countless hours obsessing about my apartment in Central Square that I will be sharing with Carly and Sarah, as well as all the apartments of my friends I will be visiting. What can I say, its the next big step towards being a grown-up, and the too-mature-for-her-age 12 year old in me is SO EXCITED. Don’t think I’ve ever discussed bedding so much in my life, let alone over a 4-month period. 
• Taken over 600 pictures with the rebel. Still terrified for Photo 1. Please don’t eat me alive, David Wright. 
• Acquired not one, but TWO pieces of shiny  leather designer goods on MAJOR sale. Probably didn’t need either in the exact same way I didn’t need those black patent leather Burberry high heeled ankle boots for $125, but COME ON. One day, I will work at a high-profile women’s magazine and be happy I was so unreasonably impulsive at age 19. 
• Fallen even more in love with my friends, family, dog, watching movies, planning too far in advance,  and New England. 

So far, though parts of it were long, treacherous, deathly boring, or drowned out in torrential downpours, this summer’s been a pretty solid one. Hope I don’t jinx the next three weeks.

Consider it marked.

Yes, it’s true: Rodarte is collaborating with Target. WHATTTTTTTT?! I can’t even imagine what this is going to look like, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be incredible. Mark december 20th in your calendars, ladies: just in time for buying ourselves christmas presents! 

In other news, I’m in the (strictly mental) process of gearing up for my new, more directed blog, which will be a part of my internship with media genius John Wilpers. I’ve got a serious tug of war between food and fashion going on … I’ll keep you posted on which one wins. 

 

One of my favorite looks from Rodarte's fall collection

I’ve been on a magazine warpath these days, owing to the laziness of my job and, well, my obsession with glossies, so I’ve got a ton of new books I want to read, movies I have to see, music I want to listen to, blogs I want to read, and of course, designer pieces I could never afford stewing together in my mind. And that’s the beauty of keeping lists for each on my blackberry’s memo pad (which my brother shamelessly utilizes for tricking me into thinking he’s read/seen/been where I want to go. Hmph!) Too bad I still haven’t fed any of these wish lists in there.  At least that means Rob can’t get a hold of ‘em.

Rip-off.

I’ve been too busy working my mind-numbing jobs as a lifeguard to post any original thoughts, so instead, I’m posting further evidence about why Garence Dore and I are blogging soul mates (from her fantastic blog, of course). Check out her lovely commentary on tattoos here. I will attempt to come up with something post-worthy in the meantime.

Bisous!

Habla espagnol?

Oh, Spain. I hardly know where to start. I DO know, however, that it would take years to explore every nook and alleyway of Barcelona alone, and probably a couple lifetimes to do this country justice. Also, I need to brush up on my Spanish/Catalan … the remnants of my high school espagnol hardly cut it this vacation. 

We’ve been zipping all over — first to Barcelona, officially the most gorgeous city I’ve ever seen (yes, Paris, you’re a very close second), then down to Sitges, a Provincetown-like beach village right on the Mediterranean with EPIC shopping, and now for a last hurrah in Madrid before heading back to reality, which is none too promising after all the visual stimulation of, well, anything that’s not an empty pool slowly overflowing with rain. 

I’m hoping the pictures will tell the story better than this post — they’ll be up on facebook and my shutterfly – I’ve really been trying to have my camera glued to my hip this entire trip, and at 500 photos and running, I think I succeeded in that, at least! I’ve also been humbly attempting to collect some street style shots for my upcoming blog, which I will be working on as part of my internship with Globalpost’s blogging coordinator, John Wilpers. It’s wayyy harder than my quick-draw style photographer heros make it look, especially when I’m too shy and far from fluent enough to ask for people to pose for me. Needless to say, Tel Aviv and Barcelona’s stylish set think I’m a bit of a creeper. 

Anyways, I’m off to bed — we’ve got to conquer Madrid in one day tomorrow, which should be quite a feat, judging by the mind-boggling vastness of things to see so far. 

Bisous and bonne nuit!

Secrets revealed.

I knew you could make a flowchart for anything. 

This is one of the best ones I’ve seen in a while — it’s a step-by-step on how to get photographed by Scott Schuman, aka the Sartorialist, aka the guy who dates Garence Dore, aka the woman I wish I could be. 

Check it out here! 

http://pipeline.refinery29.com/street_seen/get_shot_by_sartorialist.php

Shakshuka…a little skillet of heaven

I’ve come to find more and more how food-obsessed I am. I really think that a meal has the ability to make or break a day, a moment, an occasion — which is a pretty impressive outcome for a few ingredients thrown on a plate. 

Enter today’s lunch: shakshuka, an Israeli specialty of fried eggs cracked into an incredible blend of tomatoes, onions and spices (Rob and I got ours with sausage,  my mom got potatoes). Cooked in its own skillet, the eggs still sizzling — it was soooo good, especially shoved into fresh, still-warm pita. I  have to make it for my friends as soon as I get home!

Other than that, I finally managed to get burnt to a crisp at the beach today. It seems that I’ve inherited most of my bad habits from my dad, and the tendency to over-sun worship despite my embarassing freckly-pasty skin combo is one of them. I’ve been slathering on the aloe and praying that the aging gods hold off on the wrinkles. Sigh. 

Rob’s big race is tomorrow, so we’re going to head over to Ashdod, another port town south of Tel Aviv to cheer him on. He’s pretty nervous, which is heart-breaking since he’s the kind of guy who never worries about anything. I’m hoping he’ll do well and, well, relax. 

Anyways, that’s all for now, folks. Hope your summer adventures are treating you well. Don’t forget the sunscreen!

So Maccabiah.

Hey everyone!

So things have been pretty hectic for the Ralph family in Tel Aviv the past few days — in a good, sport-filled way. Yesterday, my dad took Rob to train at the course he’s racing at on wednesday, and Mike and my mum and I lounged on the beach for day two of freckle-tan revival (okay, so THAT wasn’t so hectic.) Then, we jumped in the car to make it to the first Canada vs. Israel baseball game. Rob’s friend Robbie was playing in it, which made it even cooler to see. I rocked my red sox hat (of course) and got a GO SOX! as we ran over to the field – love it.

Anyone who knows me knows that my patience for baseball usually ends around the stretch at Fenway, but this was a 7-inning game and a pretty exciting one at that, despite the fact that the sun was beating overhead for a solid 2 hours. Canada emerged victorious, 7 to 3, which made us all pretty proud.

Today, we were up at 5 a.m. to shuttle Rob into the middle of the desert for his time trial — bike speak for “race against the clock as fast as you can in a funny looking helmet”. I must admit, he looked pretty pro in his head-to-toe Canada uniform, and he raced well. I’ve never seen a real bike race before, and I LOVED using the “sport” setting on my camera to capture all the racers blowing by, so again, a good time was had by all, despite the next-to-no-sleep (Rob got up at 1:30 a.m. and said he couldn’t sleep, and that was the end of my beauty rest as well … I was so nervous for him!) and the blistering heat. We were all so wiped on the way home that we pulled over at a McDonalds (shamefully, our second stop since we got here) and ate a large french fry 8 McKebabs, a delicious mix of kebab meat, onions, lettuce, pickles and tomato wrapped in a little flour tortilla, between the 5 of us.

Anyways, that’s all for now. We’re heading to the opening ceremonies soon, so I’m expecting my mom to tear up and to hopefully get tons of cool flag-related photos, which I’ll post soon. In the meantime, I hope these few pictures will do the trip justice so far! If you want to check out some more, they’re on facebook in a post-as-I-go kinda way, after much prompting from K and L.