Part glam and part bohemian chic, Moroccan wedding blankets, traditionally referred to as handiras, have slowly gained popularity over the last handful of years thanks largely to their neutral color — which makes them fit for any room — and characteristic sparkle — which makes them ultra unique.
So unique, the first time I saw them I was immediately smitten. They were fun and fresh with a touch of exotic. But it wasn’t until I got engaged that my interest truly piqued.
You see, my engagement ring has what could be considered a slight Moroccan flair. So I took it as a sign that a Moroccan wedding blanket would make the perfect wedding present to ourselves. Well, let’s be honest, to myself.
As fate would have it, a few weeks ago Danielle Donker, a Dutch woman living in Morocco who sells beautiful Moroccan wedding blankets among other items, contacted me about a previous post. Her e-mail was unbelievably kind, and I took it as further confirmation that a Moroccan wedding blanket was indeed in our future.
If you were like me, high school language class — Spanish in my case — felt like trying to stuff a dictionary into a watermelon. Completely unnatural and practically impossible. In fact, the entire process should be written off as totally inefficient. To absorb all those words and conjugations took intense, repetitive, strenuous memorization, and then, within 6 months, it all evaporated from your brain. Despite having continued my Spanish all through college, the best I can still muster is the very first thing I learned, “Necesito ir al bano.” I need to go to the bathroom.
But learning a new language shouldn’t be that hard. When we’re kids, we don’t require flash cards or repeat-after-me drills to speak fluently. We just do it. The process comes naturally through listening and observing. Yet, when we’re asked to do the exact same thing just a decade later, instead of fluid prose, stilted phrases tumble from our lips.
Why? Turns out it may all stem from the way we’re taught.
On most days people fear getting a tomato thrown in their face, but not in Buñol, Spain on the last Wednesday in August during the festival of the tomato, La Tomatina, better known as the world’s largest food fight.
Every year over 40,000 people flock to the small Valencian town to hurl 100 pounds of rotten and over-ripe tomatoes at friends, foes and family alike. The fighting begins around 11 a.m., after a brave and agile sole climbs a greasy pole, the “palo jabón,” and cuts the ham hanging from it free. As soon as the ham hits the ground, a cannon sounds and the tomatoes start flying. An hour later, the cannons fire again and the tomato-drenched fighters drop their weapons leaving the world’s biggest batch of pasta sauce behind.
Fire tucks hose down the tomato puree river running through the streets while participants hose off themselves, the buildings and anything else that became a “casualty of war.”
And while it may look like a wholesome time, don’t be fooled. Things get rowdy. Clothes get torn. Shoes get lost. And acid is bound to get in your eyes. Tomato acid, that is. So if you’re planning to head to Buñol, Spain next year, it’s best to wear clothes you don’t mind ruining, shoes you don’t mind losing and goggles. Really, really good goggles.
So, who’s coming with me? I’ve always wanted to paint the town red. And taking a bath in spaghetti sauce? An added bonus. It might even do wonders for the skin.
Oh, and don’t worry about getting a black eye. They make you squish the tomatoes before throwing.
Ever heard of eyelash dye? Neither had I. That is, until I discovered I was allergic to mascara. After months of being plagued with a red, bumpy rash along with red, painful eyes — neither of which were a pretty sight — I finally connected them to the black goo we all spread on our lashes.
The next three weeks I became a mascara test-monkey. I tried chemical laden and natural varieties, ones that created tubes around the lashes, and ones that swore to be ultra-hypoallergenic. Nothing worked. Like weeds, the rash and eye pain always returned, just to different degrees.
By the time I reached the very last tube, I was in a panic. A flat out, cold sweat panic. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, a life without mascara isn’t that big of a deal. But three weeks before your wedding, it is. Bare eyes and a wedding dress go together about as well as jean shorts and tiaras. So I frantically searched for a solution. And searched. And searched. Until I finally stumbled across a little known alternative: eyelash dye, also known as eyelash tint.
With our wedding less than three weeks away, I’ve been feeling an all too common feeling: the urge to slow down. Not because things are unusually hectic. But because all of these important moments are happening — getting the keys to our first home together, choosing our rings, picking up my dress — and I’m moving too fast to enjoy any of them.
We all are.
We live our lives like we’re on a conveyor belt. Constantly moving forward with never a break or even a pause. Every, single waking moment we fill with something. Working. Cooking. Eating. Cleaning. Talking. Exercising. Blow drying. Shopping. Even our forms of relaxing — reading, listening to music and watching TV — require our brains to be active.
There’s rarely — if ever — a single moment in our days when we do absolutely nothing and let our brains just be. The closest we get is when we’re in the shower. So it’s no wonder it’s when all of our best ideas happen. It’s the only time we ever get to think.
