Anouchka Talks

I've been craving a getaway lately.  It's really been on my mind.  Like a lot .  Alas, as I cannot afford any such trip, I have decided to go through some of my old photos in a pathetic attempt to drum up old feelings of excitement and adventure to remind myself that I used to be interesting.  Here is one of my favorite images of my former life. Welcome to the Mediterranean Sea on the French Riviera.   Though I have never been sailing in my life, it would be hard to pass up this sparkling, azur view: blue, as far as the eye can see.  (Ribbers would be supremely geeked as he often shouts, to total strangers, " MY FAVORITE COLOR IS BEE-LOOOOOOO!!!! ")  Plus, the bouillabaisse  is bitchin' in the south of France.

At first glance, I would consider myself a pretty unassuming person.  I'm somewhere between 5'0 and 5'2 (depending on the day), my features aren't particularly striking, I have a petite build, and I'm usually lugging one or two kids around.  I have been known to wear pearls, Tom's, cardigans, and I would consider my North Face jacket one of my most used articles of clothing. Yeah.  I've got swagger. However, beneath the surface lies a freak flag, waiting to be flown.  I was out to dinner with my dad last month at some new(ish) hipster place in my hometown's equivalent to Brooklyn and, between bites of artisan pizza and a divine  salad laced with loads of fennel, I grooved to some of the greatest hip hop/rap hits of my youth, blaring over the restaurant's sound system.  It was so nostalgic and I loved it.  I can't help myself.  I'm a sucker for thug life. Any stay-at-home parent knows that you need a few tricks up your sleeve to keep