The Everywhereist

Whoo hoo! It’s Friday, the sun is shining in my part of the world, the day is beautiful, and I have to go enjoy it. You should, too, if you get the chance. These links will be waiting for you when you get back. Really. I promise.

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A Quora thread about the most awesome pie charts, ever.

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Apparently you can clean a dirty pair of jeans by popping them in the freezer for a week. Although I’m not sure it so much cleans them as makes them very, very cold.

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Southern Oregon is idyllic.

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It’s also the site of one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen in my entire life (note: on the grand scale of things, this isn’t saying much. My life is a cakewalk, minus the walk).

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You are never gonna believe what this is.

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Rand and I walked through the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, holding hands. It was early winter, and he was neglecting his work in order to enjoy the art.

This happens approximately never, so I was making good use of the time by squeezing his hand really tightly.

“Ouch.”

Love hurts, babe. Get used to it.

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I dreamed of New York for years before I actually made it there.

And when I was fortunate enough to finally visit, I found it was not as I had anticipated. The city did not twinkle all the time. In fact, only a few parts of it did, and we had to seek them out.

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For years, The British Museum in London was like a book I’ve cracked open a dozen times, but was never able to get passed the first chapter.

I knew its beginning pages almost by heart. The crowds in front of the Rosetta Stone are mentioned in the dedication. This little one-eyed bird made an appearance in Chapter One:

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But I didn’t know much more than that. Did the two leads who once hated each other finally succumb to their growing passions? Did the weather worn detective ever discover who the killer was? Beaten down by jetlag, I never found out. I just reread the first chapter, and left.

This time, though, I was determined to get through every page of the British Museum. Or at the very least, skim them enough to have an idea of what was going on.

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Though the current weather and the week’s forecast seem to disagree, spring is here. I can’t help but look at the newly budding flowers (they are there, I swear. Underneath the frost. I AM SURE OF IT), and be grateful for the end of winter.

It’s the beginning of a bright new season. Enjoy these links, while I go toss on another sweater (it’s freezing in my office).

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Eleanor Clift, who started at Newsweek in the 1960s, and is now a reporter for the magazine, takes a visit to the Mad Men set. And finds it hits rather close to home. (Psst! Some spoilers within if you aren’t all caught up).

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And speaking of Mad Men (It comes back THIS MONTH. Can you tell I’m excited?) NPR has a rather awesome interview with George Lois, the influential advertising art director who is said to be the inspiration for Don Draper. His key takeaway? Words come first. I think so, too. (via the always-wordy Philip)

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Two Euro coins, and a five Mexican Pesos coin.

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On a bright September morning, I sat in a small cafe in the Barcelona Airport, staring at the change my husband had been handed back from a barista. We were about to leave Spain for New York.

“What is this?” I said, holding up one of his coins.

“It’s two Euros,” Rand replied, disinterested.

“No, it’s not,” I said. I peered at the coin, squinting to make out the text.

“Rand,” I said, waving the worthless piece of metal in the air, “this is a five peso coin.”

I was livid. And ready to go home.

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There are mornings when I wake up, and haven’t the foggiest idea of where I am. This is neither as alarming or as glamorous as it sounds. It’s usually in a hotel room somewhere. And more often than not, Rand is with me, so I can’t complain.

Travel enough, and I suppose it’s a natural side effect. Some places all start to look alike. And other places look … well, unlike anything, really. Certainly not as you’d expect them to look, that’s for sure.

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