Dear Kristin,
Like we're trying out Google+. We are trying out Google+, yes? Because I'd rather not, but I'll bend if you want me to bend and it means I can watch movies with Nick while I'm in England and it's 5 pm here and he's home from work with whatever ailment has finally caught up with him and is bored with his solitary lunch, eating whatever ethnic food he's just had delivered. Ya hear? I'll do it for you guys.
So, this surprised me. I like Beirut already, but this isn't Beiruty - Beiruty meaning horns to hop to and that man's foreign warble and POP! - and not in a bad way. Just in a different way. A little sprinkle of Billy Joel. He's using his voice like a voice and not like an instrument. There's a piano and a person singing lyrics you can make out. Not at all in a bad way.
Perhaps that's why he looks so wonderfully bashful in the live version.
And because I'm in England and these fellas are beloved here:
Can she see me?
The live rendition is more J. Benny, and yet J. Benny likes it less. But perhaps Kristin won't feel similarly. Perhaps she'll like it more. I guess, sometimes, I need a little more than a man and an guitar. Rarely is still sometimes.
Speaking of England! Moody skies and cask ales! On a pretty day I walk this windy town wearing a vintage blue blouse over a white slip I stole off my mom years ago and my chunky brown Target wedges:
The pre-France tryout. It made the cut.
With a pink belt and a rock bracelet and my Kicks Ass.
Dear Kristin,
I heard this in a my local (pub) the other night, a splendid monument to drinking called The Lion & The Lobster. I will take you there. I will take you there and Jane there and Jamie there and Garrett there and my dad there. Everyone gets to go there. Everyone should, really.
Dear Kristin,
In a pub in the early afternoon, drinking a coffee, interneting. Eavesdropping. Here's a funny something I've noticed: rarely a day goes by that I don't overhear an America conversation. We're talked about all the time. Interesting, no? Because I can't remember the last time, in America, I overhead an England conversation - and I can't help but worry if that's something of a bad sign. Our not talking about other countries. Like perhaps we don't look around us enough. On the other hand, perhaps I listened for it less in New York. Regardless, one thing I do love here: the America conversations are varied, not one-note, one-feeling, one-subject. Which is also amazing to me. That we would come up in different ways every day.
My two notes today, also a two in one:
The first I saw a French girl wear a version of a few weeks ago, though I couldn't replicate it until my own sweater and skirt arrived in the overseas shipment. The next happened because I was cold.
Also, just so you know, I've been turning this over. Shall we turn it over together?