Lovers, keep on the road you're on...

I have made no secret of my love for that incredible, source-of-all-that-is-good-and-pure-in-the-world-of-music band of Brits we all affectionately know as Coldplay. Yes, I've paid many precious pennies to ensure that I take in their performances, downloaded every speck of song I can find, followed not one, but MULTIPLE groups on Twitter relating to them, ruthlessly terrorized those who denigrate them in any way...I'm kind of hardcore. About Coldplay, anyway. It should come as no surprise that my fifth concert was, yet again, one of my most memorable life experiences.

Incidentally, our seats were the best I've had yet, providing a fabulous view of the band and Chris Martin's marionette-like moves. Of course I cannot leave you without a few of my favorite images, AND videos! You should know that both Jess and I concluded that the only negative aspect of the otherwise perfect evening was that the crowd was somewhat lacking. Granted, we'd never seen CP in an outdoor venue before, so that could have had something to do with it, BUT STILL! You should know that in the videos, it's me that you hear screaming as the opening strains of the songs emerge from the stage. The sole, shrill, scream in a lackadaisical crowd. Also, the videos are somewhat Guy Berryman-centric. I am not sure how that occurred. Hmm.

What appeared to be an eagerly anticipating crowd. Sadly, only about 3/4 of them joyously celebrated through the evening.

First song. I'm pretty sure it was "Violet Hill." I was beside myself with glee, so I'm not entirely certain.

"Fix You." Be still, my heart!

"Yellow." Always sheer perfection, and of course, the quintessential audience favorite.

I'm honestly not sure about the song, but I love the picture. I love watching Chris play the piano.

"Viva la Vida"!!! SUCH an amazing song to see performed!

My favorite song off the new album, "Lovers in Japan"-those are the thousands of paper butterflies shooting out towards the audience. We captured quite a few. I was quite competitive about them, actually. I might even have leaned out of my own aisle just so that I could have a blue one.

I don't know, but I fear it's possible I might wither away (musically, that is) in all the years left before they head back to the studio to make another album. They're the best.

I must trudge back to the living room (AWAY from the computer), so that I can finish Little Dorrit, which is truly wonderful and deserves my full attention. Perhaps I"ll turn on some Coldplay while reading?

P.S. Sound quality isn't so great in the videos, I know, but it was LOUD and I also am no whiz at editing. It's my humble attempt to capture an AMAZING memory!

"I thought he looked more like a Carlos."

I have been wiling away the hours of this past week with my kindred spirit and best friend, Jessica, otherwise known as Pretty Cheap Dress. There are loads of things to post about, including my nothing-short-of-amazing-and-incredible FIFTH Coldplay concert, which I've already briefly teased, but for now, I'm just going to relax with my Sweet Husband (yes, the elusive meaning behind my frequent SH abbreviation). We devoured thick, juicy NY strip steaks for dinner, which I prepared for the grill with a light coating of olive oil and an EXTREMELY liberal shower and subsequent rubbing of coarsely ground pepper. Among my SH's many talents is a great grilling sense-not only were the steaks perfectly medium, with a crisp outer crust and a delightfully juicy, reddish-pink middle, but he also managed to give the side dish of grilled asparagus the exactly-right mild char. Accompanying our meal was a simple arugula salad that I livened up with chunks of pecan and crumbles of my new favorite find at Trader Joe's-white stilton with apricots. I've seen it many times as I longingly admired the cheeses, wishing desperately that they were somehow all made miraculously and simultaneously healthy and cheap, but I never actually thought of purchasing it until Jess and I were putting together a picnic for our trip to Napa. In three words: Best. Decision. Ever. I'll be buying this cheese as long as they sell it at my beloved TJ's.

In the name of being equitable about all information related to a certain franchise that I'm borderline obsessed with, I feel that I would be remiss in not sharing the latest New Moon still, despite the fact that I'm unequivocally, absolutely Team Edward, THROUGH AND THROUGH. Should there even be teams? If you've read the books, however, you'll recognize that this image is utterly legitimate and true to the story, teams or no. Which does make me happy.

In other pop culture news that I can't escape from, Jillian the Bachelorette has made the VERY poor decision (IMO) to eliminate quirky, adorable Reid, the ONE bachelor that (a)did not waffle between work and true reality love or (b)does not give a vacuous, glazed-over stare whenever hard questions arise or seems to think that his only flaw is that "ab number eight is not as defined as the other ones" (Had to steal that HILARIOUS line from Lincee). How could one not heart Reid, with such spoken gems as "Is this going to be in Spanish?"-said when receiving the infamous forego card whilst in Spain and "I have two wives."-tart response when Jill was pressing him for info about sleazy Wes's cheatin' past and present. I miss him already, and am already disappointed aboot the finale. I don't even know if Lincee's antics could make me watch it.

Finally, Jess came through YET AGAIN and inspired even more new musical fascinations. If you must know, I've been compulsively replaying "Death" by the White Lies over and over ever since she told me about them. Love it.

Coming up in the next few days: garage organizing, breathlessly racing through the hundreds of pages I have left in Little Dorrit, and hopefully catching Harry Potter. Clearly, my movie theater anxiety precludes any attending of a blockbuster like Harry Potter, which made $100 million in the span of 24 hours, until there has been an adequate amount of time for the lines and bedlam to settle down. I think I'll wait until Sunday. A hint from the hilariousness that I watched this week with Jess, a safe several weeks after its premiere? "I added 4 more wolves to my wolfpack...4 wolves, running around the dessert..."

Look how they shine for you...

Top 5 Tuesday

Even though I spent the whole of yesterday mere inches from my computer, and even though I compiled this list over a week ago, I did not manage, obviously, to get it all together and put the post up yesterday, on TUESDAY. I'm really quite atrocious at weekly blog themes, I know. I blame Little Dorrit, the fabulous Dickens novel that I'm reading for my summer class. I was very much behind on my weekly reading (surprised?) so I had no time to spend spiffing up my Top 5 list for the week, which I do love.

From a very young age, I've been deeply attached to movie soundtracks. I can remember the very first one that I owned, a beloved, played-to-the-death cassette of Girls Just Want to Have Fun: The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack. It still ranks quite high on the "best birthday gifts I've ever received" list. Over and over, I listed to such catchy tunes as "Dancing in Heaven" and "I Can Fly", of course reliving my favorite moments from the movie in my overly dramatic mind, thinking that Janey Glenn was the most beautiful girl in the world (yes, that would be the oft-criticized, occasionally viewed as "horse-faced" Sarah Jessica Parker) and that if I watched the movie enough times, I might be able to reenact the incredible dance routines, and maybe, if I searched hard enough, I would fine someone as manly and gorgeous as Jeff Malene. Oh, the dreams of an eleven-year old!

Other beloved soundtracks have graced my cassette and CD players, and I have continued to program my Ipod with my favorites. While there are many, many more than I'm listing here (particularly from television, which may warrant another list entirely!), I think this makes for a good starting list of what I consider to be the best, most well-selected and considered soundtracks for their accompanying films.

5. Pretty Woman. I'm not sure it's possible to count the number of times we rewound "It Must Have Been Love" while riding on the school bus to various junior high sports functions. It was our favorite, and it took me a few years before I realized what a great soundtrack this is, loaded with gems like "King of Wishful Thinking" and "Fallen." Definitely one of the soundtracks that I knew every lyric of long before I watched the movie.
Favorite Song: It Must Have Been Love, Roxette

4. The Big Chill. Even today, I can't confess to having actually watched this film. I'm told it's about a group of adult friends and their various relationship problems. However depressing their stories may be, the soundtrack is KILLER. All oldies, but definitely goodies.
Favorite Song: Tracks of My Tears, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

3. Garden State. Zach Braff personally selected each song for the soundtrack of the charming indie film that he wrote and starred in, and while I've never been a big fan of Scrubs, I immediately developed an affinity for Braff himself, based on his fabulous ability to put together a solid list of tunes that suited the quirky characters and story perfectly.
Favorite Song: New Slang, The Shins

2. Twilight. Another example of a soundtrack that was very carefully hand-picked, I could not have been more pleased with how this one turned out. I didn't know a single one of the songs before I downloaded the CD from ITunes, but now both Paramore and Muse frequent my playlists. I've listened to the album so many times by now that it provides me with a familiar comfort. I won't lie-Rob Pattinson's voice doesn't hurt. At all.
Favorite Song: Flightless Bird, American Mouth, Iron and Wine

1. Dirty Dancing.
A true classic, a soundtrack to beat all soundtracks, an incomparable example of soundtrack perfection. My mom bought the cassette in 1986, when the movie came out, and it was only a matter of time before we (my siblings and I) knew every word of every song. My friends and I were completely enamored with Patrick Swayze when he sang "She's Like the Wind", and put "Hungry Eyes" on repeat. My sister and I mimed walking across a log to "Hey Baby", and when I got married, I was sure to add "Do You Love Me" to our DJ's playlist. I'll always, ALWAYS love this collection.
Favorite Song: Cry to Me, Solomon Burke (prominent in the movie, but only on the Ultimate Dirty Dancing edition of the soundtrack)

SK's Pesto Potato Salad with Green Beans

It's kind of embarrassing to think that the entire dear family I married into is aware of my abhorrence for mayonnaise. They all love it, of course, as most normal people do. I used to think I could slide by without anyone really noticing that the virtually universally loved condiment is always noticeably absent from my hamburgers, or that I politely decline when my mother-in-law offers to make tuna salad sandwiches for a picnic. Thankfully, my brother-in-law adores tuna salad so much, I've never had to really worry about being obvious about my strange mayo-phobia while on family vacations.

Needless to say, in recent months, I've realized that there is no need for subtlety. They all know I hate the creamy white stuff. My SH teases me when he piles cole slaw on his plate, saying "This version doesn't have mayo, I promise!" My MIL sheepishly apologizes for the egg salad she made as a snack. My beloved sister-in-law actually agonized over whether or not I would be able to taste the insignificant amount of mayo present in the delicious curry sauce she made for one of our vacation dinners (for the record, I could not!). Multiple efforts have been made to create dressings and sauces with substitutes like sour cream and yogurt. They could probably all quote the story that I shared as an explanation for my loathing: When left to my own devices as a young child, I spent the whole of an afternoon devouring mayonnaise sandwiches that I made for myself. I sat at my Strawberry Shortcake table with a pile of sandwiches, mayo slathered on white bread, eating happily. The absence of any positive mayonnaise memory after that time leads me to believe that I must have gotten dreadfully sick from overeating. My mother does not recall this event and has often expressed doubt of its veracity, but I have assured her that it's true. My four-year-old memory is quite clear.

I've tried to overcome my distaste, but there's nothing to be done. I simply cannot tolerate mayonnaise. I might as well accept it. Obviously, my family has! Hopefully, I can make up for it with contributions like this heavenly pesto potato salad, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen, my fave food blogger. I brought the salad to our 4th of July celebration yesterday, and even though my seasoning left something to be desired (I've been having quite the struggle with the appropriate amount of salt lately!), I think it was quite good. The way I feel about pesto is comparable to the way I feel about gruyere cheese and anything with a crust. I could eat it by the bucket, with pasta, spread over a grilled portobello, smeared over a toasted slice of baguette...clearly, my feelings about pesto could not be more opposite than my feelings about mayo.

Since my photography skills leave something to be desired, check out SK's fabulous pictures and the full recipe here. It was a perfect, simple summer dish, and I definitely plan on making it again.

P.S. You should know that my culinary icon of choice, Rachael Ray, does NOT love mayo either. We're culinary soulmates, Rach and I.

Dusseldorf, Day 4

When I woke up to a blanket of clouds and a dreary chill on my third day in Germany, I immediately decided to stay local for the day. Our hotel, as it turned out, was located a mere ten-minute walk from the Alstadt (Old Town), which, even in the rain, seemed so much more manageable (and familiar, by this time!) to me than hopping the tram, taking an illegal ride to the train station, and schlepping my stuff onto a train and then into Bonn. Illegal because, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out the ticket-purchasing process, and despite the fact that there were a plethora of people on the tram each time, I shied away from asking. For some odd reason, I found myself inwardly cringing at the thought of being identified in approximately 1.2 seconds as a tourist. And since I look Germanic enough to pass for a native, I opted to hop on the tram breezily, surreptitiously avoiding the tiny red box that passengers used to validate their tickets.

After making that not-at-all difficult decision, I had a luxurious morning, lounging in bed with a whole pot of coffee just for me before I took a hot shower and headed out to see a bit more of Dusseldorf. By this time, I'd walked down into the Alstadt for dinner twice, and fortunately, the sights that I elected to visit, the Goethe Museum and the Hofgarten, were just a bit past those charming cobblestone streets.

I marked a path towards the Goethe Museum first. Although most everyone would recognize him as the author of the play Faust (including me), Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was a tremendously significant figure in Germany's literary history, so I considered myself lucky that such a lovely museum devoted to his life happened to be located in Dusseldorf. He never actually lived in Dusseldorf, but visited frequently, and the collection of his works and artifacts is quite impressive. I was able to see Goethe's own copies of Grimm's fairy tales, correspondence between Goethe and his friends, lovers, and teachers, even a page from his personal agenda, shakily written just before his death. He never completed the tasks listed on the page.

A highlight of the museum was a peek at a first edition of Faust, and a Salvador Dali sketch, submitted as possible artwork for a publication of the play.

I strolled through the Hofgarten, which is essentially a large park spanning many city blocks, on my way back to the Alstadt, where I planned to find something reasonably priced and somewhat delicious for lunch. I opted to head straight towards the water, on a street that I had not crossed before, and I was rewarded with incredible views across the river. There was a beautiful promenade right next to the water, and I sat on a bench for a while with my book, though my hunger eventually overcame me.

Food in Germany had thus far been a big disappointment, although the various forms of breads I encountered were outstanding. My mother-in-law, a native Dane (and thus accustomed to various European cuisines), encouraged me to try the simple native specialties, bratwursts and wienerschnitzel, so on this day, footsore and starving, I was thrilled to find a little restaurant in the Alstadt with a small spit in its front window, which carefully turned, blistering the sides of bratwurst. I immediately ordered one, and was thrilled to discover that it was ensconced in a crusty white roll. I ate it in about five minutes, right there in front of the window, where I was sheltered from the rain that had begun to fall. It was GOOD. Vaguely spicy, with a crisp outer coating over the juicy sausage, made even more delicious by the roll. I could easily have devoured two, but I restrained, walked through the Alstadt a bit more, stopping to take note of Coldplay's presence in Germany

and eventually stayed the afternoon in a kitschy, funky cafe, where I had a heavenly hot chocolate, read more of my book, and tried to justify eating another bratwurst for dinner.

All in all, it was a great day.

How I knew our house was The One

I'm not even sure I looked at the interior once I discovered that an avocado tree flourished on the premises.

The fate of these precious spring-green pearls? Diced and sliced to add delectable creaminess to salads, chopped and mashed for spicy guacamole, layered on top of green chile and cheese to make burgers something just shy of heaven...

Behold my spoils! Pretty Cheap Dress will thank me when she arrives next week!