jersey shore trippin

After days of grey clouds, and thunderstorms the skies opened up and the sun shone high on Saturday. We took advantage of this break and headed east to the Jersey Shore for a little family fun. After a long search for a dog friendly beach, we landed on the north end side of Brignatine beach which was amazingly uncrowded and full of dog lovers like us. I always imagined the shore to be wall to wall condos and trashed beach bars, but Brigantine was surprisingly peaceful and the perfect retreat from the city streets.

Brigantine was Nellie's first experience with the ocean and she was hilarious to watch. She wanted so desperately to be in the water but hated the waves, so every time the water went out she jumped in and when the waves came rushing back she ran to shore. We finally got her swimming a little bit, after about two hours of trying. Ryan on the other hand took to the water like a big fish. I think he was really born a stingray, and only recently learned to be human to fall in love with me. ha!

I'll admit it was a bit cold for me to dive in, so I mostly ran along the shore and dug for "perfect" shells to admire. Nellie didn't seem to mind the exercise, and she was pretty good at digging up the shells still connected by ligaments. I think she was hoping for a few oysters on the half shell, I wouldn't have minded some either.After a few hours in the sun, we were all ready for a little ice cold drink (and a nap), but first Ryan and I had a boardwalk to see. Tomorrow we're going to Atlantic City on the blog baby! big kiss, bekuh

history of a traveler: part 3

Today is about that time I decided to move to London. Yeah, I actually did that, and yes it was amazing, but not so much in the sweep you away kind of changing like Paris was for me. No, London was about settling down my wild heart, and seeking inner peace with who I was, and who my family was, and years of pain I'd suppressed. London was about running away. London was about growing up.

After deciding not to go back to school for my junior year of college, it became obvious to me that I had to get as far away from the things I knew as possible. I saved all of my money from a summer job, got a student work visa through a company called BUNAC, and made plans to temporarily stay with family friends while I settled into life in London. Like in most of my adventures abroad, my plans didn't work out quite like I'd planned them to.

I arrived in London just days before my 21st birthday, and I don't think I've ever been more homesick in my entire life. I immediately set to work trying to find a job, and on my actual birthday I had my first interview. It was thrilling to sit across from someone in a foreign country and think I might actually work here in a few short days. The idea of finding employment, I thought, would make this dream-come-true more of a reality. But this job wasn't meant to be. I boarded the train back into London proper and stopped off at a sushi restaurant for a special birthday meal & drink to celebrate this new chapter. Teary eyed I looked up at my waiter and said "I'm 21 today," he just vaguely looked at me, and I said "I know that's not a big deal here, but in America it's a REALLY big deal and I'm alone." Pretty pathetic.

This may seem like a sad start to what should have been the happiest days of my life, but sometimes it takes going through some bad for something really good to come out of it. Despite my solitude, and despite my homesickenss I didn't leave. I trucked on and happily the following weeks started looking up for me. The family I was staying with, the Westbrooks, offered to let me stay on in their spare bedroom, and I found work temping to pay the bills. I still had a nagging feeling that there was more for me in London than this piddling, and I'd soon find out what that was.

Right around, what would have been Thanksgiving, I was in-between temp jobs and taking a day to explore the neighborhoods surrounding my "home" in Crouch End. I made my way up the hill to Highgate and popped into the most fabulous yellow fronted shop filled with furniture and trinkets. After looking around for a couple of minutes I felt completely overwhelmed by the sense that this is where I should be working. The owner probably thought I was a pick pocket as I fiddled with her displays, hoping to get the nerve up to ask her if she was hiring. Finally she looked at me and said, "Can I help you find something?" and I blurted out, " Yes, I was wondering if you were hiring?"

She paused only for a moment before getting the biggest smile on her face and said, "Darling, I haven't had a vacation in three years...I am definitely hiring. Come back tomorrow for tea and we'll chat. My name is Avril. This is fabulous!" I was flabbergasted and beyond happy, and we made plans for an early morning talk in her shop. We did in fact drink tea the next day, and she did hire me on the spot, leaving a week later for two weeks of vacation. And so began my real adventure in London... to be continued. big kiss, bekuh

Read the History of a Traveler Part 1 & Part 2 for more crazy adventures in the life of Bekuh

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diy souvenir magnet

I've been accumulating an odd collection as of late, hotel room keys. With all the traveling I've been doing for work it should come as no surprise. Typically I try to shed things away as I travel, not gather them, but somehow I always end up with hotel room keys tucked into the folds of my wallet. Happily these types of souvenirs are easy to carry, and not at all kitschy, making them an ideal thing to keep. I decided to put a "key" or two to use by making them into magnets for our fridge. My favorite being my room key from the Ace hotel. This is probably the easiest DIY I ever, here's how you do it:

Supplies:
You'll need a hotel key, magnet sheet, scissors, pen and super glue

Steps:
1. Lay the hotel room key on top of the magnet sheet and trace around it with the pen.
2. Cut 1/4 inch inside the line with your scissors, so the magnet is slightly smaller than the key.
3. Dribble the super glue over the back of the room key, and place the magnet sheet on top. Make sure the magnetic part is facing outward.
4. Let dry for a couple of minutes, until the glue is completely set.

I told you it was easy. Now every time I look at our fridge I'm reminded of the travels I've been on, and it always gets me thinking of the next adventure awaiting me. Projects that remind you to live life are the best. I can't wait to add to the collection!  big kiss, bekuh

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the history of a traveler: part II

I had every intention of posting this earlier in the week, but it turns out that my second trip abroad is the hardest one for me to describe. My trip to Paris, during my second year of college, proved to be one of the biggest life changing experiences of my life. Everything that has happened since has been directly influenced by the hours I spent wandering Montmartre, and getting lost down by the Seine. I spent those days alone, with just my thoughts and a beat up journal to keep me company.

It happened like this...After taking just one semester of French I convinced my roommate at the time that we had to make the trip to Paris for spring break. I was convinced that my life would be incomplete if I waited to go another second. With what little money we both had we bought plane tickets and booked a shared room in a hostel for 9 days. We landed with almost empty pockets, and hearts overflowing for a city we'd never seen up close. It was cold, rainy, and there were riots in the streets. It was everything I'd hoped for.

What wasn't perfect however was our itinerary. In our excitement to see this grand city neither of us had thought to ask the other what they were interested in doing once we got there. She wanted to visit Versailles and the shopping districts. I wanted to get lost in cemeteries, churches, and visit art museums. After a day of misery together we decided to split up and sought to see the city on our own terms, meeting every night for dinner as we went. A little serendipitous really.

What happened when I was left to my own devices is what's so difficult to describe. I spent time reading up on post-impressionist artists living la vie boheme, sought after Jim Morrison's grave, ate quiche and drank cafe two meals a day, cut my hair, and tried twice to see the work of Jacques-Louis David to no avail. I remember walking up the steps of Sacre Coeur and looking out over the city with tears in my eyes. It was like I had been walking down a corridor of locked doors my entire life, but Paris had suddenly given me the keys to unlock them all at once.

I made so many missteps you'd think the trip was a failure, but it was exactly what I wanted and needed at that time. I loved how scared it made me when I'd get lost in the labyrinth. I loved having to buy shoes from a street vendor after mine got soaked through in the rain. I loved sitting in museums for hours looking at master works, from renowned artists. I saw the world through my own eyes for the very first time, no one was filtering what I saw or how I saw it.

I soaked in a way of life so unlike my own, that when I got back to college I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years, changed my class schedule, and made plans not to go back to school in the coming year. I was put on a new path and new way of thinking about life. Paris taught me how to feel. big kiss, bekuh

Read the History of a Traveler: Part 1 for the full experience.

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our holiday weekend

I can't believe how quickly the long weekend came and went. I'm sitting at my desk wondering how on earth it's already Tuesday! June is only a few days away now, and I'm in full on Summer preparedness mode. Visiting friends and family in Virginia proved to be the perfect retreat for us to kick-off the warmer months, and looking over the sparse imagery I have from the weekend I know it was a good time. We ate too much, laughed too much, and just generally enjoyed our first trip back to Roanoke. Nothing too out of the ordinary really.

We split our time between Ryan's family and our friends in Roanoke, and my Mom's out on the lake. Though the weather was a little unseasonably chilly it was still nice to sit in lawn chairs and look out over the glassy surface of the water. I think the thing that impressed me the most was how good everything smelled. I'm not saying Philly is stinking (yes I am), but man did the air smell good in the country! I think we already have a deeper appreciation for where we came from. What did you do over the weekend? big kiss, bekuh

the history of a traveler: part one

Memories are a delicate and precious thing, so it's easy to want to hold them close for fear of losing them, but it is in that fear that the true loss occurs. Time and age ultimately, viciously, steal them away from us, and only in sharing are we able to keep them alive. Why not let others taste what you did when the memories were created? It is in the tasting that they may recognize a piece of themselves, and continue the story where you left off. 

My most precious memories are those I've made while traveling. Up until this point I've only casually hinted at the journeys I've taken on the blog, foolishly reluctant to share them with you. Somehow I felt that by sharing my experiences with others I would be cheapening them, or doing my memories an injustice. I floundered to even describe them in my travel journals as they happened. How could I ever expect you to relate?

Now, I realize that all I can do is try. All I can do is share my memories, my experiences, and hope that their meaning transcends my inaptitude to describe them. This is my first big step in leading a life of passion, shared...

Growing up travel was reserved for visiting families to the north and south of us. I spent my childhood dreaming up excursions to far away lands, but I would be 18 before any of these dreams became reality. Ironically my first trip abroad was anything but pleasant. I couldn't sleep on the plane, I whined a lot, and missed my then boyfriend something terrible. I was touring England with my sister an my mother, but all I could think about was Virginia. Then, half way through the trip it clicked.

I can remember, with extreme clarity, the second the travel bug bit me. We were sitting in a pub watching a football match on TV, eating mediocre pub type foods, listening to locals shout at the screen, and I was smiling. I was suddenly in love with the world. Something about experiencing this part of England made sense to me. I was seeing beyond the touristy veil for the first time, to what life was like in another part of the world. I was, for a split second, so very English. I liked it.

To experience a culture outside of your own expectations, accepting it for what it is, is a beautiful thing. It is a lesson unlike any other in life. I walked away from that experience in England a changed person. I recognized that though I desperately wanted to see the world, I wanted it to be on my terms. I didn't want to experience the world through the "must see" attractions tourists cling to, but through the locals who called it home. I wanted to get lost in whatever culture I found myself in next. I wanted an education in what it meant to be  from...(fill in the blank).

Lucky for me, this was just that start of my journeys and little did I know just how soon I'd be traveling again. Stay tuned for part II next week. big kiss, bekuh

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new york is in love

New York City is a maze of wonderment, a place I walk away with a deeper appreciation of each time I visit. I enter the city bright eyed, and anxious to explore every nook and cranny of its neighborhoods; never even catching a glimpse at the real under belly of this grand city. I seek out encounters with people from every culture, nation, and every walk of life; all perpetually moving towards something. That something for me was the Traveling Trunk Show for BHLDN, this time. A chance to meet the real brides I seek to reach everyday in my office.Two days of fittings, and girl talk. Two days of giggles, and pictures, and admiring the great diversity of women drawn to our brand. Everyone so full of love you could burst with happiness. Not even a dreary, rain stained window could dampen the hearts of these women. The contrast only making them more beautiful to observe. A perfect start to what will be a week of much the same. The infectious happiness spread to even our work worn bodies. At one point we found ourselves in the cavern of a cab being whisked across midtown Manhattan with "Age of Aquarius," blaring from the radio. Three girls with the windows down, hair blowing in every direction, laughing hysterically...can you imagine it? big kiss, bekuh

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