Off up North

and finally the rain came down in Falls Church, Virginia, as Londoners experienced their first sunny afternoon in what seemed like years..

but not until Dad, M and I had made it safely to the Mall (not shopping (!), but the huge, long strip of grass with the Washington monument at one end that is lined with an impressive number of world-class art galleries and museums that are completely free to the public) and back, and also out to Roslyn to see the "Bodies" exhibition. I was initially a bit skeptical about this exhibition, believing it to be the work of Gunther von Hagens, who had some bad press with his Body Worlds exhibition some years back. However, this exhibition is apparently quite unrelated (other than perhaps with regard to the technique used to prepare the specimens?) and was quite fantastic. The whole exhibition is laid out in such a way that you are effectively walking through a sort of "Beginners Guide to Anatomy" in 3D. The body specimens are sensitively portrayed so that (I think) even the squeamish (which includes me!) could not object and it's very educational. I would recommend anyone with even the vaguest interest in Medicine to go and see it. Unless you are planning to train as a doctor and therefore dissect bodies at Med school, this is probably the only chance you will ever get to see the inside of the body as it really is.

By the way, I have included a new link on the blog to flickr, where I am beginning to house all my photographs. I am afraid I have not got around to labeling each and every one, but I include a brief summary at the beginning of each 'set' of pictures. So please feel free to browse and email me if you want to know what a particular photo is about. Also, some of you may have noticed that I have included a link to Facebook, the latest time-devouring addiction to sweep the globe! I found this article in the Washington Post the other day that describes the phenomenon quite amusingly. (In case you need to register for this, I include the article at the end of this posting)

Off to NY today, then Montreal tomorrow, then up to the Ashram on Friday to begin my four weeks of... hard work.. well some detoxification and lots of yoga anyway! :) Click here to see my gruelling schedule..


"Great Britons" at Washington's National Portrait Gallery


Independence Avenue, Washington DC


Names of victims, Holocaust Museum, Washington DC


Dad's Buddleia finally attracts the "right sort" of customer
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Not Clicking With the Facebook Crowd

Monday, July 30, 2007; A15

I'm a no-good, lowlife, antisocial, shunned, pathetic excuse for an 18-year-old.

Or so says my Facebook friend count, 161 -- 90 within my Washington network -- which recently began to plateau dishearteningly. Apparently, all my acquaintances, my classmates and the people I've "heard of" have already publicly befriended me, leaving me, a social-networking neophyte, foundering in the low three digits.

I've been through my friends' friends, my friends' cousins, random people I met once at parties, students from my old school, students from the college I won't attend until September -- but that D.C. total hasn't quite inched up to 100. It's drowning in a sea of friend totals triple its size.

Am I that unlikable? Why won't a few more people click that all-powerful button and friend me? (At the least, a few more of my 20-million-plus fellow Facebook users could write on my wall; with no new messages for three days, it's beginning to look a little bare.)

Facebook has brought to the forefront of my social life a necessity I seldom considered before selling my soul and signing up two months ago: friend quantity. Sure, we knew that the cool girls reigned in high school, but never before has such an unquestionably accurate popularity meter indicated down to the last individual your worth as a human being (or, at least, the precise number of people who thought you were worth the two seconds it takes to "friend" someone).

The quality of those people is, of course, far less important.

Emily Yoffe wrote about this phenomenon in Slate earlier this year, recounting what it was like to try to make friends online at 50-something. A Post reporter, Howard Kurtz, conducted a similar experiment last month. Yet I never thought that as an 18-year-old, a charter member of the Internet generation, I'd be having a comparable online experience, stressing about ways to enumerate my friends so other people will think I'm popular.

There are other stringent quantitative standards to meet, too. You should be "tagged" in at least a few hundred photos loaded onto other users' pages, a number that is displayed prominently below your profile picture. If not, you surely haven't attended enough parties or other social events to have moments worth photographing. Shame on you.

I occasionally scold myself for buying into the superficiality of online social networking. But to delete my profile would be to admit defeat, and what would my friends -- real and otherwise -- think if I gave in? Still, nothing can belie the masochism of logging in daily. A few mouse clicks reveal photos of parties to which I was not invited and wall-to-wall conversations regarding outings that no one bothered to tell me about.

Somehow, though, addicted and dead set on avoiding crippling uncoolness, I struggle on with Gatsby-like tenacity. A thousand "friends" is the new American Dream.

I may still harbor the hope that Facebook will shut down, allowing my social life to return to the solace of private text-messages and cellphone conversations. But in the meantime, I'm considering inviting a few (in-the-flesh) friends to a movie via e-mail. Hmmm. Given my stagnant social clout, maybe instead I'll write on their walls so all the world can see how great my plans are. Then all 161 of my friends (friends' cousins, one-time acquaintances, people I've never met) will know what I'm doing this weekend. I can't be unpopular if everyone knows I have such spectacular plans, right?

Maybe I'll take my camera and snap some great I'm-socially-content-and-having-a-grand-time photos while we're out.

Jennifer DeBerardinis is a freelance writer and student.

Fred and Ginger dancing on the ceiling...

Or is it just the constantly changing, tip-tapping rhythm of my ceiling fan that makes me think I am waking up every morning on the set of an old black and white movie?? Well folks, this is it. I can't deny that I am enjoying the slower pace of life out here in the "Burbs" of the Nation's Capital, not to mention the weather, which has been uncharacteristically balmy.. in fact exactly as an English Summer should be...

Will this be the new conspiracy theory?? Have the Americans - not content with inventing 50,457, 23 flavours of ice-cream, 'fat-free' butter and refusing to believe us when we tell them that electric kettles are really SO much better (honest !) - decided to swipe our idyllic Summers and in stead send us all the appalling humidity of their East Coast which, unable to handle the culture shock, immediately turns to monsoon rains and hail stones the moment it reaches our shores!!?? If true, this would indeed be dastardliness at its very worst! Being quite a practical type however, I have decided to make the best of the status quo, however sinister, and spend as much time out on the deck as possible, enjoying the breeze, gazing up at the blue skies and clouds above, and generally chillin', before the REAL East Coast Summer returns!


Zoe, Dad's new Buddleia and the 7th and final Harry Potter book


Rainbow cloud and plane trail


Her eyebrows express it all, don't you think? ;)

PS Saw a bumper sticker the other day that made me chuckle.. "Republicans for Voldemort"

Where would we be without music?

I often used to wonder as a child, which I would rather not do without (nay could not do without even!), music.. or the beauty of a stunning sunset or other scene of natural beauty. Of course, given that Nature is endlessly recreating herself and that even a simple cornfield looks completely different from one day, hour, or even minute to another, depending on the light and how the wind weaves its way through it, not to mention what the insects, birds and other players in the pastoral scene are up to, I don't think this question will ever really have a conclusive answer for me.

However last night's amazing performances by Diana Krall and Chris Botti (not to mention the hugely talented members of their respective jazz bands) reminded me how indescribably inspiring music can be, especially in the hands (and vocal cords) of such gifted people! Dad, M and I were at Wolftrap, a beautiful outdoor concert venue in Virginia, run most efficiently by the US National Park Service. We managed to secure ourselves a perfect spot on the lawn right in front of some enormous speakers and with a good view of the stage. From the word go, Chris Botti held us in thrall, producing sounds with his trumpet that sounded more like the human voice than a brass instrument. Then when Diana Krall came on in the second half, bemoaning the temporary misplacement of her 'old body' after the recent birth of her twin boys (heck - I don't know what she 's complaining about.. she still looks amazing!), she upped the tempo with a string of jazz numbers inspired by Nat King Cole, proving that she is just as talented a pianist as she is a vocalist (if not more so). The crowning moment though, was her flawless rendition of Joni Mitchell's "A Case of You", stripped down to bare piano and vocals. You could literally hear the proverbial pin drop. Yes, when it comes to you, Music (especially as performed by the likes of Ms. Krall!), I really think I could "drink a case of you, and still be on my feet."

Oh, and I'm off to Deutschland

tomorrow morning for a couple of days to visit another Aunty (this time Aunty A) who seems to have made a miraculous recovery after a rather tricky foot op - fingers crossed! Then I have a couple of days to turn around and pack for the big North American Bonanza, which will consist of several weeks in DC visiting family and friends, a repeat of last year's gruelling (but rewarding) 4-week-intensive yoga teacher training course up in the Laurentian mountains of Quebec (only it's the advanced course this time - yikes!), and a week (almost) hanging out in NYC. Will try to keep the blog updated as best I can, though during the yoga I'll only get a chance to escape to the web cafe in the village once a week at best. Have a great summer and keep the faith! M xx

Equably improbable

but certainly most welcome (!).. Wimbledon finals weekend with gorgeous English summer weather :)


Taking life at a snail's pace in sunny Wiltshire


Woodland walk


More Summer scenes..


At least someone is hard at work!

Infinite Improbability Drive..

OK, so I'm exaggerating a bit.. none of the events of the past 24 hours beats a sperm whale whooshing past the window of a stolen space ship that has just rescued you against all odds from death by asphyxiation in the hold of a Vogon vessel, courtesy of a strange invention called the Infinite Improbability Drive in Douglas Adam's fabulous novel, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"! However, driving up Munster Rd in SW London last night, I was fairly agog to see the awnings of a very chic Japanese hair salon totally shredded, apparently by massive hail stones!! I was already somewhat stunned and dazed by the monsoon-like conditions I experienced when changing trains at Clapham Junction, but huge chunks of ice?? in England?? in July?? Similarly unlikely, but a cause for jubilation not commiseration, was the news this morning that the BBC's Gaza correspondent, Alan Johnston, had finally been released after 114 days in captivity. 'Tis a strange world we live in.. I guess we have to learn to take the rough with the smooth!


Stormy light
Tuesday evening: platform 5, Clapham Junction

Earlier in the day (OK now it's suddenly got so dark - at 11:30 am - I'm going to have to turn the light on to keep typing.. More rain/hail clouds on the way no doubt!), I took the train down to Chichester to visit Aunty M and she took me for a drive to a lovely little village called Bosham, where, incidentally, there was also water everywhere courtesy of a high tide. I should have known it was a sign of things to come!


Old Bosham at high tide


Perfect weather for a family outing :)


Anglo-Saxon tower at Old Bosham