Wednesday, October 29, 2008

My Extremely Fierce Friend Deirdre and I Do Iceland Airwaves Blue Lagoon Party

D and I went to the Iceland Airwaves music festival. I could tell you that she's my 24-Hour-Party Partner-In-Crime, but you really just have to look at this face to know you've got a fierce competitor here:

Most of the music-viewing kind of looked and felt like this:

Considering portraits of modestly successful Indie musicians are dull even when they're NOT taken from the back of the venue, I'll spare you those, and give you instead these photos of a rave on the moon.

Every year the Blue Lagoon hosts a dance/hangover party on Saturday - they bus you out from Reykjavik about 45 minutes to this spa facility. It's pretty much just for the tourists, but whatever.

The air was probably in the mid-30s, and the water was bath-warm but not hot. Deirdre says it's the only place you can get pregnant without having intercourse. It doesn't help that the mud at the bottom is this white, slimy silt.

Here she is, pondering immaculate conception:

Everyone was friendly... a weird kind of Burning Man way, if Burning Man was high on arctic circle air and Viking beer instead of idiotic legwear.

DJ Margeir was spinning housey stuff. It was ok - coulda done with maybe a little rock or hip hop, but the only move you could do in the water, really, was to jump up and down. Jay-Z probably would've just lead to confusion.

You had to get out of the water to get beer, which seemed somewhat sadistic of the planners.

By the end you were treading on plastic cups, but I don't want to sound like a hater (as per usual). It was nice and surreal.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Whoa where'd everybody go?

Ohhhh, that's right. Everybody went to Iceland! I've been back for a week, and while I'm still kind of reeling from the relative idiocy of taking three days off from school during midterms, boy oh boy am I happy to be here. Roughly this happy:

I have fun Icelandic things to bring back to you as well, but you'll have to wait on those til I pull my head out of my class. Here's a shadow puppet of things to come:

Friday, October 17, 2008

Notices of Ettiquette: Iceland

The attitude toward punctuality is more casual in Iceland than in other parts of Europe. You will be forgiven for lateness. Even if you never needed it.

When you are offered Hakarl, DO NOT EAT IT. Funny-Fun-Ha-Ha foreign food is best left for the dolts on Globe Trekker; this stuff is shark meat that has been buried and left to putrefy for up to six minths. 1) Bury. 2) One of these. 3) Eat.

"No Takk Fyrir" is your apt response.

Try instead Skyr. I'm sure there's fish that hasnt been rotting for 180 days in that white, gurty goodness somewhere.

Do not critize the weather. And don't neglect your takk fyrir's when applicable.

Notices of Freddie Mercury: Zanzibar

This Beautiful Isle:

Begat this Beautiful, Beautiful Man:

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Quod Me Nutrit Me Destruit

Was just perusing the Paris RTW fashion shows and came across Louis Vuitton,


Marc?! Are you responsible for this?

By no means would I say I have "classic" tastes...I've got a dumb, angular haircut...self-inflicted. It looks exactly like this:

Now imagine me in the late 80s, trying to convince my pin-straight hair to wrap itself around crunchy mall bangs. There was disillusionment...despair..split ends...

It's these two decades of resentment that made me start at this permy abortion of a hairdo, squeak, and swear to track down the stylists responsible and embalm them with Ogilvie.

More terror on the runway:

Possibly the CyberGeishaPanMerryLostBoy defended her head with that big ol bag.