The Snazzy World of Guide Books

Guidebooks are magical. I didn't even consider getting one when I studied in France...there were so many guides and historical references offered by the university, I probably wouldn't have had time to plop a guidebook on top of the stack. But now, I've sat in bookstores, perusing different guides, comparing, and feeling out which ones would work best for me during my move to Argentina. Here's what I've found:

Guidebooks are written to a niche. It didn't originally occur to me, but now it seems obvious. Frommers, for example, is written for vacation travelers looking for upper-echelon restaurants, accomodations, and entertainment. There are a LOT of ads inside, and it seems geared to consumer America.

Lonely Planet is geared towards middle- to upper-middle-class Americans that want a broader experience. Sure, there are still some pricey places on the list, but the articles are more down-to-earth, and "budget" is certainly not a bad word. Plus, it offers much more by way of city maps and bus maps than the other guide books I looked at. I was sorely tempted to get this one.

But the one that really caught my heart was Let's Go! It had a similar range of entertainment, shopping and lodging listings as Lonely Planet, but it was geared far more for the adventurous and Earth-conscious at heart. It was, for example, the only one to offer charitable volunteer options, locations to work in a supportive manner abroad and other ecotourism advice. It seemed, all-in-all, to encompass the kind of passion for travel that I feel.

As a side note, a friend of ours stumbled across an older (2008) version of a travel book called Time Out, which he gave to us for our trip. It seemed geared more for British travellers, but it had an inordinate amount of lovely color photos - a rarity among travel books. It was also full of fantastic sidebars and a surprisingly in-depth look at the volatile past of Buenos Aires.

The Artistic Side of a Yard Sale

In a couple of weeks we're going to be having our huge house-sale. I'm a little nervous about it, just because cleaning and prepping all of your worldly possessions for selling is quite a task. But the fun part is refurbishing old things so they look snazzy once more.

For instance, I have two matching nightstands. They're equally worn, chipped, stained and sad-looking. I've sanded them, and now I'm drawing guidelines for painting on them. I'm not painting the entire surface, only the top and some accent edges. The top will have geometric designs centering around a sun-burst on one stand, and a crescent moon on the other. The background will be the natural wood, and the whole thing will be covered with stain. I've seen stain applied over bright paint before, and it was a surprisingly appealing affect...just enough dimming to the colors to make them look rich and well-aged. Then there'll be a few coats of finish, and voila! Old and ugly (but sturdy) nightstands will become little works of art for sale.

I'm eager to post some pictures of the finished products here. Maybe a few pictures of the advancing stages as well?

Productivity!

I love having days off from my sushi-rolling (despite how much I've grown attached to the job).

The past two days I've had off have been delightfully productive. There's been so much happening I'm having to break down and just list it out:

Slowly but surely, I'm working my way through eBay postings to further the 'shucking off everything' process. Good riddance to cool rubbish!!

Another landscape design client for Land Design by Sam has been secured, and the deal for the design sealed! I didn't realize how much I've missed designing...but I'm so thrilled about this that I'm starting a blog about landscape design: Book of Herbs, Designs and Seasons.

Just had my first experience with curry in the kitchen! I didn't know how much I loved Indian food until I made a few trips to a Kosher Indian buffet. Sounds like a strange amalgamation? It is. You'll see just as many authentic Saris on beautiful Indian women in the dining room as you will Hasidic Jews in kippahs with ringlets. And the food! Gods alive it's delicious! So I went out and picked up coconut milk, curry and pineapples, and made delicious experiments. This is definitely a mainstay for my recipes! Why-oh-why didn't I try this earlier?

The best for last: my blog has finally been updated. Sometimes figuring out how to convey the simple things is the hardest writing assignment I accomplish.

Shucking Off Everything

Twenty-seven years of human life accumulates a lot of stuff. Of course, much of it has been lost, thrown away, given away, or used up. Good riddance! Moving every year or two means collections get whittled down, willingly or no.

Still, packing up my life and shipping it to Buenos Aires with me is arduous enough. From a full townhouse of possessions and random junk, I'm whittling down to a carry-on bag, a laptop, and two stowed pieces of luggage to get from this country to the next. No more. So the rest has to go. Just knowing all the stuff will be gone...I can't say it enough, good riddance!

I've already begun giving my dearest things to my dearest friends and family. Mom will get most of my paintings. Fellow pagans have been gifted books, tools and herbs of the trade. I've got to say, those have been the hardest to part with. But each painted glass jar, it's contents lovingly labeled in pigments and maji; each carved and painted box with crystals, figurines and majikal nick-nacks; each book of spells, correspondences, and compendium of the spirit worlds has a new home coming to it. So be it!

The rest is to be sold, each penny adding to the momentum building that will catapult me from this country to the next. Each pound of things and trifles and oddities and old past-times shed will add a feather to the traveler's wings, then off I fly!

So here's to a Spring Cleaning that will leave only the essential Sam behind. To any other pack rats out there that feel the weight of STUFF, that long to be an adventurer instead, shuck it off!

Happy Unloading!

The Ticket.

Last night I clicked "purchase this ticket" on a non-refundable plane trip to Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires, the 'Paris of the 1920's', the Tango capital of the world, the massive international coastal city that is quickly becoming the Mecca for artists and writers in the way that Paris was for Van Gogh, Hemmingway and Fitzgerald. After months of talk and planning, it's official. I leave this country August 4th, 2009.

There was much celebration between my mate, Thomas, and I. We even forwarded a copy of the tickets to a couple that will be living in Buenos Aires, with us, soon. I wanted to forward a copy to my mother, too, but I broke the news of my departure to her not-so-long ago, and I think the concrete evidence of my leaving would only sadden her more.

It's beautiful here, in Austin. I already miss it, and I'm months from leaving.