Suddenly obsessed with Where the Hell is Matt?

You might have heard of this video, I had, but I just watched it for the first time today when a blog I just subscribed to mentioned they found themselves strangely moved by it. This was a theater and dance blog, not a travel blog! So I decided to see what it was all about. The editing is great, the set up is perfect: handing the camera to someone else, we're not sure if it's a stranger or a friend (if I read up a bit I bet I would find out but I'm going with gut reactions here). The dancing is goofy, yes, but a moment later when the setting changes I pretty much stopped even thinking about the goofiness. The transition is great, Matt stays in pretty much the same spot but he's gone from India to Bhutan. You think you've pretty much got the video all figured out at this point? Just keep watching. There's so much more. Plus, I notice something new every time I watch it. Like just now I noticed the dog dancing with him in Kuwait! Matt gets some company just before the one minute mark and there are flashes of several recognizable locations (San Francisco! Paris! Chicago! These were the easy ones for me.) that are given their front and center moment throughout the rest of the video but it gives the viewer a little jolt. I told you there's more to it. Now is when a few themes start to present themselves: Happy huge crowds, jubilant children, a few strangers that may have just been in the right place at the right time. Dublin! I bet that's Saint Stephen's Green... see the little ankle height "fence" to keep you off the grass? I love the kids in the Solomon Islands, who out-dance Matt. Hey, Munich! I'm going there! Cool. My absolute favorite moment is when Matt joins the choreography of the scene around the 2:35 mark. This is when I started to get chills. I love the transition from Bethesda Terrace in NYC to a very similar yet oh-so different structure in Tokyo. Lemur Island, hilarious!!! Remind me to look up where that was in Amsterdam, it looks like the bridge on the Singel canal near our apartment, but who knows? Brussels into San Francisco... I am such a goober, I started to tear up. The world is such a huge and small place. I love how you get see a vibe from a place from the way the people there danced. Cologne in front of the Dom into one of the few sights I got to see in Singapore... *sigh* totally starting to cry and it's so silly. Space-Monkey--you better make it to the 3:52 mark!

I've watched this video a couple of times this morning and the effect is the same every time. I don't know what it all means but I've been looking for meaning in what I'm about to set off into the world to do... and I can tell this relates.

I just wanted to share... I hope you enjoy it. (If you go to the actual YouTube page there is higher quality viewing available with a click at the lower right corner of the picture.)

Waiting for Mrs. Peel (a long ride on the perfume and whiskey train of thought).

Where to begin with this story? Four years ago in India I spent $1.50 on a small bottle of scented oil. Something made me decide to wear it on my wedding day, but I didn't really wear it regularly till the first time I went to NYC. Suddenly "Kashmiri oil" only makes me think of Manhattan. Kind of funny. This bottle is dangerously close to be finished and I've been wondering for a while now if there's anything I can do to try to match it. I've looked up places specializing in scented oils and also custom perfume blenders. Nothing that I have managed to actually give a good effort to has paid off yet though. I had first read about CB I Hate Perfume while looking for customer blenders. This guy's studio is in Brooklyn. I wondered if I could make it out there last January, but it didn't happen.

What did happen in Brooklyn last January was the night on the town that would eventually result in the infamous hangover at a certain jewelry story on Fifth Avenue. The first round was a fabulous champagne cocktail at Dressler in Williamsburg. I absolutely adored the metalwork interior. CF and I have an agreement that someday we will have a date there. This cocktail was apparently the bartender's specialty. I can't remember the minor ingredients but it was mostly made up of champagne and whiskey! Delicious.

I had acquired the taste for whiskey during our month in Ireland. While visiting a distillery the options for sampling at the end of the tour were straight or mixed with cranberry juice, or ginger ale. I decided to go with the ginger ale... and while many of the ladies on the trip were handing their glasses over to certain eager-to-help-out fellows, I found myself a new favorite drink! I drank whiskey and ginger ales a good chunk of the rest of the trip. And it was our last round on the last night.

Somehow, I recently started thinking about the whiskey and champagne cocktail (please note, there are two different drinks we are talking about here), wondering if anyone online had ever talked about the delicious concoction. I did a Google search for "dressler whiskey" and the only special result I found was my own Yelp review of the place. But I did find an interesting tangent. The personal journal of CB, of CB I Hate Perfume, the very perfumer I had meant to go see a year ago!

this is a very casual perfume based on a cocktail i seem to have invented over the summer. i was sitting at the bar at "dressler" back in june waiting for some friends. when the barman asked me if i'd like a drink, i knew that i did but couldn't begin to figure out what. i'm not a huge cocktail fan, don't much care for basic wine and vodka seemed a little boring...

so after 10 minutes of hard thought, i thought i'd try a bit of whiskey, some gingerale and a slice of cucumber...

What's this? A perfume based on whiskey and ginger ale? Yes, please! His journal is quite a fun read. He talks about lots of different things but it always manages to relate back to scents. I suggest checking it out!
http://www.cbihateperfume.com/CBjournal.html

Today I tried to find a new perfume to help me get over the Kashmiri oil that will likely never be refilled. Aveda's new high end perfume that I've talked about before? I tried some on so I could see how I liked it on me over time. Turns out I just feel like I stink like a hippie when I wear it. Very earthy, not the fancy pick-me-up I was hoping fore. I'm sure it's great on some people. But not on me. I tried on a bunch of scents at Anthropologie as well, nothing was quite right either. So my failed perfume shopping experience made me wonder about CB and his cocktail scent.

I read up on what I could fine out online. He talks about this in the very next entry...

still i have been able to make some progress. i decided on what to call my cocktail scent. i'm going to name it after one of my very favorite women of all time. she fascinated me as a child and i always imagined i'd marry her when i grew up. i still wouldn't mind...

she's a woman i've always admired - smart, charming, beautiful and a snappy dresser. she knows exactly what to do in every possible situation & is also very adept at getting herself out of some pretty serious jams.

although she drinks largely champagne, i can still imagine that every now and then after a particularly trying day, she might curl up on her sofa & sip a bit of whiskey, gingerale with a slice of cucumber.

so in honor of her, i've decided to call my cocktail - Mrs Peel.

I love the champagne mention. Sort of ties this long train of thought all together. Looks like it was about to be released in the fall but now he's holding it until spring because it's a better scent to wear in warmer weather. There's a shop in Berkeley called Herringbone that sells his scents, I hope when the time comes I can find Mrs. Peel there. Nothing to do but wait and see.

Bon Voyage!

Today we leave for our multi-country 5 week adventure. I will miss this laptop dearly but luckily its big brother is coming with us, so I will be able to continue my habit of posting travel photos to Flickr as I go. I may or may not choose to blog here as well. We'll see. I'm pretty much packed, just a few things to toss inside the suitcase, need to make sure we have enough cash in our bank accounts, and I'd really love to get the house cleaned up more before we go. I hate coming home to pre-travel packing messes! I'm very excited just thinking about all the beautiful things were going to see, all the photos I will get to take... and of course all the fantastic food I will unfortunately eat! I'm ready for my fondue, chocolate, crepes, waffels, tapas etc. etc. etc. please...

I was looking for a little notebook to carry with me to record thoughts and I found notes from a very few days of last summer's Ireland adventure. Obviously I'm more into documenting my travels with photos instead of words. But in an effort to appreciate my words more I'm going to attempt to just type them out here before I start a new journey later today.

Tuesday--
I spent the morning resting my poor feet and shins (the blisters had led to unfortunate funny walking) as well as reading through my Lonely Planet yet again. This time I finally had the good sense to circle the interesting places on the maps, so I could see where my circles clumped. I took a long shower, gave in and pulled my hair back (too humid to have it down, feels bad and looks worse) and finally set out to do something with the day. I planned a route towards Merrion Square to see the Oscar Wilde Statue and the National Gallery. The walk as easy and really didn't take all that long. But I needed some lunch and had no recommendations close by. It started to rain and I picked a direction to walk. Lost again, so soon. I wander a little before I found some packed cafes. The Brewbaker cafe looked funny, the sign stated that they had "probably the best coffee in Dublin." Sure, why not. So I went inside, ordered a panini, and tried to get a sparkling water, but the European checker assumed I was trying to avoid it and gave me still. I came downstairs to find a seat, and that's where I am now, surrounded by theater posters (!) like they knew I was coming. Right now Patti is standing above me with her blond hair pulled back, diamonds on and arms in the air. Also around the room are Les Miz, Cats, Once on this Island, Lisa in Concert, and Dancing at Lughnasa. The chicken pesto panini is fine (they do love their "sweet corn" on everything here) nothing amazing but then at least I'm not out in the rain...

Wednesday--
And suddenly I am in Italy.

The sun was shining when we woke up late this morning. I decided to give my sandals a try. So far so good. And I saw it was going to be warm so I wore my capris. As I headed out it felt like a whole different trip. Yesterday was gloomy, I was gloomy, Dublin was gloomy. Everyone is in a good mood today. The woman standing next to me on a street intersection said to me, "Isn't it a nice morning?" I shocked her a little answering back in my American accent, "Yes, it's the first blue sky I've seen since arriving on Sunday." She asked where I was from, making her guess "the States." I told her San Francisco so I was sort of used to the weather, a little untrue since they live in this weather all the time. She wished me good luck and enjoy myself as we parted ways and the other Dubliners turned and looked as I thanked her. A girl could get awful nervous to talk if her accent is going to be that surprising. So I walked and walked and walked. I did pop into one shop, great looking stuff there, great smelling lavender soap and "Gran" and "Mum" coffee mugs I liked.

So, walking walking walking. It's the humidity plus the slightly higher temperature but sweat dripped down my back like in Italy. A couple on Grafton Street had on a tank top and no shirt. The buskers were out! The clever kid was back (note from the traveler: this was this amazing guy playing guitar on the street, I should find the video I took of him). Walking a ways was a very good thing to do. I saw how everything fits together, how it all related. The city begins to make sense. So I scoped out a number of restaurants. Blazing Salads is just a little take-away place. Fish and chips looks good but it's too hot. I do manage to finally see a part of town that look different! It's very nice, I like it. I decide to cross the river and check out Italian places. Bar Italia had Diane's Breasola salad on the menu. The enoteca has it too, plus lunch sounds good here, so that's where I am now. I supposed this is Little Italy. I'm having an excellent caprese and tomato basil soup that shimmers with olive oil (but the chunks of fresh tomato are amazing!). Outside people are dining al fresco. I figure I'll let the Dubliners enjoy their sunny tables. So funny to feel like I'm in Italy but then hear the thick Irish accents all around me and see the pale office workers scurry by in their button up shirts and ties. I like it. I think it was supposed to be 72 degrees today. A scorcher for Dublin. Everyone's walking by with ice cream, or is it gelato? We'll see.

It was.

Another day?--
Today I got a late start but plenty of sleep and a number of things planned. The musical pub crawl is booked for Diane, and theater tickets are purchased for next week. A preview of The Importance of Being Earnest starring all men on Monday at the Abbey, and The Constant Wife at the Gate on Thursday. I think the tickets were 15 and 28 Euro, not bad! Also bought our bus tickets for Saturday. I'm a bit worried about it but I imagine it'll be fine. No tiolet and no reserved seats, hope it's not too long a trip to Belfast. I'm up on the North side having a great lunch in a wonderful little cafe. Next will be Pirates if it really opened today, or else the Dublin Writers Museum. My ciabatta is grilled with chicken, stuffing and cranberry sauce in it, like Thanksgiving on a sandwich! The salad is very good. Why are the tomatoes all so good here? I think the "potato crisps" are Pringles. Funny.

Quotes I wrote down when I finally did go to the Dublin Writers Museum--
"New York is a real city -- Los Angeles has no navel -- no Broadway -- and nothing to recommend it except the sunshine and swimming pools..." --Brendan Behan, 19 May 1961

"Please do not crush me utterly."
"Sorry to crush you; but I never autograph books or anything else for sale." --G. Bernard Shaw, 26 June 1930