<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768896385153461452</id><updated>2024-08-31T01:32:49.297-07:00</updated><category term="Laugh"/><category term="Museum"/><category term="Lovey Dovey"/><title type='text'>The Travel Clef</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Travel Clef</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11065244085498764745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTHUr4P_7C9Drpa6qHFE4nqbRiHa2J5J56MRcXtaYBn5obQeV7iD3bd9TyhYHX6tkRYx35lDFHgfMZGqMeQnyBtAS8m7Ewh4W9Zjx4aFzrh7eQJGYvYf9VnZFhPRjzA/s220/Profile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768896385153461452.post-7985987117636089359</id><published>2012-06-20T00:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-06-20T00:31:33.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Market Street Cable Car - F Line</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/7405982906/&quot; title=&quot;Market Street Cable Car - F Line&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7233/7405982906_76c3300f04.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;Market Street Cable Car - F Line by thetravelclef&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;margin: 0;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/7405982906/&quot;&gt;Market Street Cable Car - F Line&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/&quot;&gt;thetravelclef&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Via Flickr:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco, California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stepping into a cable car takes you to a different era.  Everything is wooden inside like an old living room.  Seats are smaller.  The driver uses actual bells rather than horns.  Some riders are tourists but many are daily commuters as well.  In short, cable cars provide reasonably-priced time machine experience (back to the future)!  This photo was taken around noon so the sun feels a bit harsh, but I hope you enjoy the vibrant and warm sunlight in San Francisco (which, surprisingly, is extremely rare).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, I have heard that Mark Twain said, &amp;quot;The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.&amp;quot;  But apparently, he didn&#39;t, according to this website - &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.snopes.com/quotes/twain.asp&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;www.snopes.com/quotes/twain.asp&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/feeds/7985987117636089359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/06/market-street-cable-car-f-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/7985987117636089359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/7985987117636089359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/06/market-street-cable-car-f-line.html' title='Market Street Cable Car - F Line'/><author><name>The Travel Clef</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11065244085498764745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTHUr4P_7C9Drpa6qHFE4nqbRiHa2J5J56MRcXtaYBn5obQeV7iD3bd9TyhYHX6tkRYx35lDFHgfMZGqMeQnyBtAS8m7Ewh4W9Zjx4aFzrh7eQJGYvYf9VnZFhPRjzA/s220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768896385153461452.post-6705098609531940042</id><published>2012-04-16T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-16T08:00:00.978-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Museum"/><title type='text'>Fashion World</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id=&quot;goog_68673872&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_68673873&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;img alt=&quot;Wrapped&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;333&quot; src=&quot;http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7058/6928838862_e1c7d11427.jpg&quot; width=&quot;500&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Speaking of &lt;a href=&quot;http://thetravelclef.wordpress.com/2012/04/10/staring-at-museum-walls/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;staring at museum walls&lt;/a&gt;, we recently visited &lt;a href=&quot;http://deyoung.famsf.org/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;de Young&lt;/a&gt; to attend an exhibit, &lt;a href=&quot;http://deyoung.famsf.org/deyoung/exhibitions/fashion-world-jean-paul-gaultier-sidewalk-catwalk&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier: From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While Jean Paul Gaultier sounded oddly familiar and definitely French, we had no clue about who he was or exactly what his contribution was to the fashion world.&amp;nbsp; So I did what any intellectually curious person would do in this modern age.&amp;nbsp; I &lt;a href=&quot;https://www.google.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;google&lt;/a&gt;d him and read his page on &lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Paul_Gaultier&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I learned that Gaultier was the master mind behind Madonna&#39;s infamous &quot;cone bra&quot;.&amp;nbsp; Something simple yet extremely provocative and sexually expressive.&amp;nbsp; Iconic.&amp;nbsp; Also, Gaultier was the creative director at Hermes for a number of years. &amp;nbsp;(Staff discount?) &amp;nbsp;During his free time, he designed costumes for numerous celebrities and movies, including a little movie called&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119116/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Fifth Element&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Wikipedia also educated me that Gaultier was well known for his controversial gender-bending sense of fashion.&amp;nbsp; This brief research on Gaultier led us to the exhibit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was nothing normal about this museum experience. &amp;nbsp;The entire museum, which is often sparsely populated and quiet, was packed and pumping with loud and fast-beat music. &amp;nbsp;A big stage in the front with performers in funky outfits. &amp;nbsp;A runway with people practicing the model walk. &amp;nbsp;People getting dressed up and putting make up on at a nearby station. &amp;nbsp;Families, couples, girlfriends, gays and lesbians, old ladies, toddlers, and little pre-teen girls and boys were all over the place. &amp;nbsp;Apparently, we missed the memo about dressing up for the occasion. &amp;nbsp;People were dressed in the most random stuff - spatula, feathers, empty cans, etc. &amp;nbsp;One lady must have hated everything in her house because she showed up pretty much naked. &amp;nbsp;She was wearing a simple gold hat, a pair of gold panties, a pair of gold slippers, and a long purse that reached down to her knees that did not match the rest of her minimalist outfit. &amp;nbsp;Most importantly, her right hand held tightly to someone who must have been her pre-teen son. &amp;nbsp;He looked frightened. &amp;nbsp;By his mom or others around him, we could not be sure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Inside the exhibit was fabulous and amazing. &amp;nbsp;Gender-bending outfits, cone-shaped bras, shocking photos, raw sketches, high tech displays of outfits on mannequins that looked so real. &amp;nbsp;We captured what we could on the camera given the madness and the crowd, and share them with you below. &amp;nbsp;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/7066537473/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Original Inspiration for Madonna&#39;s Cone Bra by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Original Inspiration for Madonna&#39;s Cone Bra&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5312/7066537473_5fcc97924f.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
The original cone bra&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/6920460018/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Madonna&#39;s Cone Bra Costume for the Blond Ambition World Tour by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Madonna&#39;s Cone Bra Costume for the Blond Ambition World Tour&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5464/6920460018_a56cdbb251.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Madonna&#39;s cone bra for the Blond Ambition World Tour (with Gaultier)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/6920832082/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Streekwalk by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Streekwalk&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5327/6920832082_2b702fc709.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/6920835598/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Red Face by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Red Face&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5194/6920835598_e2ea96ee38.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/6920791376/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Bones, Veins, &amp;amp; Muscles by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Bones, Veins, &amp;amp; Muscles&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5079/6920791376_6738551569.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/thetravelclef/7066541025/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Dress Made of Ribbons by thetravelclef, on Flickr&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Dress Made of Ribbons&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7195/7066541025_7ecbe11fc0.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;img alt=&quot;Masculinity + Femininity = Perfection!&quot; class=&quot;aligncenter&quot; height=&quot;500&quot; src=&quot;http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7068/7066896033_2c1cf4f108.jpg&quot; width=&quot;374&quot; /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/feeds/6705098609531940042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/04/fashion-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/6705098609531940042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/6705098609531940042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/04/fashion-world.html' title='Fashion World'/><author><name>The Travel Clef</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11065244085498764745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTHUr4P_7C9Drpa6qHFE4nqbRiHa2J5J56MRcXtaYBn5obQeV7iD3bd9TyhYHX6tkRYx35lDFHgfMZGqMeQnyBtAS8m7Ewh4W9Zjx4aFzrh7eQJGYvYf9VnZFhPRjzA/s220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768896385153461452.post-5625669796145837421</id><published>2012-04-10T01:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T10:21:02.836-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Laugh"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lovey Dovey"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Museum"/><title type='text'>Staring at Museum Walls</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Before
I started dating B, I rarely visited museums.&amp;nbsp; Of course, if someone asked me if I enjoyed going to museums,
I would put on the most sophisticated look I could muster, tilt my head
slightly to the right, adjust my eyeglasses, and respond in a British accent: “Why
yes!&amp;nbsp; Museums are fabulous!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;And
that wasn’t a lie. &amp;nbsp;Well, accept
for the British accent part.&amp;nbsp; I did
enjoy going to the museums before.&amp;nbsp;
But for how long?&amp;nbsp; That was another
matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;A
typical visit to the museum would go like this.&amp;nbsp; On a Saturday, I would enter the museum with my friend, eagerly
approach the reception area, pay for my ticket while silently grumbling about
the ticket price, and follow the crowd.&amp;nbsp;
Looking at everything and reading virtually nothing, I would fly through
the museum and be done within an hour (give or take 30 minutes depending on the
size of the museum and more importantly, the size of the museum gift store).&amp;nbsp; Often, I would find myself waiting for
my friend while sipping on a fruity-sounding-but-not-fruity-tasting beverage
purchased for a reasonable price of $7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Whenever
I saw someone, who had obviously come to the museum alone, standing in front of
an art piece for a ridiculously long time, I was convinced that person was
either (1) pretending to conduct an in-depth analysis of the art while paying a
closer attention to who is watching him or her (i.e., trying too hard), or (2)
wondering what to eat for dinner (i.e., daydreaming).&amp;nbsp; I simply could not fathom what would motivate someone to
stand and stare at an art piece for longer than a few seconds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Since
we have been together, we have visited numerous museums worldwide.&amp;nbsp; At first, I flew through the museums
and ended up waiting for him at the museum gift stores and cafes.&amp;nbsp; Slowly, I found my way back to wherever
he was lingering and we started talking.&amp;nbsp;
Without trying to be anything but ourselves, we would simply chat about
the art and the emotions and thoughts that came to our minds.&amp;nbsp; Slowly but surely, my nearly false
interest in museums blossomed into the kind of love that will last a lifetime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Now,
I am that weirdo standing in front of an art piece, lost in my little timeless
world, observing every corner of the museum and appreciating all the emotions,
thoughts, and questions triggered by its components.&amp;nbsp; Someone may look at me and silently accuse me of daydreaming
or simply, of being strange.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;But
it’s okay.&amp;nbsp; I have another weirdo standing
next to me staring at the same wall, holding my hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/feeds/5625669796145837421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/04/staring-at-museum-walls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/5625669796145837421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/5625669796145837421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/04/staring-at-museum-walls.html' title='Staring at Museum Walls'/><author><name>The Travel Clef</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11065244085498764745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTHUr4P_7C9Drpa6qHFE4nqbRiHa2J5J56MRcXtaYBn5obQeV7iD3bd9TyhYHX6tkRYx35lDFHgfMZGqMeQnyBtAS8m7Ewh4W9Zjx4aFzrh7eQJGYvYf9VnZFhPRjzA/s220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768896385153461452.post-6562019763804530954</id><published>2012-03-29T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-10T01:50:02.945-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Laugh"/><title type='text'>Hello!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
One night during dinner, I asked B what he thought our common interests were.&amp;nbsp; As usual, I asked the question and started answering myself first.&amp;nbsp; (Selfless, I know.)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Yoga?&lt;br /&gt;
B:&amp;nbsp; Nope.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Running?&lt;br /&gt;
B:&amp;nbsp; Um, not really.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s just a way to get from point A to point B.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; How about snoozing?&lt;br /&gt;
B:&amp;nbsp; ... &amp;lt;tilts his head sideways as he gives me the look of &quot;really?&quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s true.&amp;nbsp; He hardly snoozes.&amp;nbsp; I, on the other hand, can snooze every ten minutes for an average of nine times every weekday.&amp;nbsp; Yup, that would be an hour and a half.&amp;nbsp; During my daily snoozing rituals, he is usually out of bed and at work by then.&amp;nbsp; So it&#39;s no problem.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Saturdays are completely different.&amp;nbsp; On Friday nights, my unrealistic ambition to get up early the next morning gets a hold of me and I set the alarm to some ridiculously early hour.&amp;nbsp; Earlier than my weekday targets.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Come Saturday morning, we are peacefully and blissfully asleep when the alarm goes off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BEEP BEEP BEEP!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By this time, I have forgotten about my ambitious self the night before.&amp;nbsp; I pop up slightly cranky and hit the snooze button.&amp;nbsp; I return to bed and sleep gratefully for ten minutes...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BEEP BEEP BEEP!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The alarm goes off AGAIN!&amp;nbsp; This time, louder and even more annoying.&amp;nbsp; Do I turn the alarm off?&amp;nbsp; Nope.&amp;nbsp; I hit the snooze button and sleep even more gratefully for the next ten minutes.&amp;nbsp; (Non-snoozers, this is what explains the snoozing addiction.&amp;nbsp; The sleep you get between the snoozes is heavenly.&amp;nbsp; And the gap between the low (i.e., BEEP BEEP BEEP) and the high (i.e., ten more minutes of sleep!) is enormous and dangerously addictive.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This snooze-and-sleep process continues for at least six to nine times.&amp;nbsp; I enjoy this love-and-hate relationship with the alarm clock.&amp;nbsp; But he wants no part in it.&amp;nbsp; He is out of bed by the time I hit the snooze button the second time. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Okay, so no go on snoozing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He starts listing his interests as well.&amp;nbsp; Rock climbing?&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; I went rock climbing once with him on a Friday after work.&amp;nbsp; While I was dangling on a wall strapped by a rope, I thought to myself, &quot;what did I do to deserve this hardship after working all week?&quot;&amp;nbsp; We&#39;ve never been back since.&amp;nbsp; Well, not me, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then we realized what our common interests were.&amp;nbsp; They were the simple yet big things that we both treasure.&amp;nbsp; And really, so do many people in the world.&amp;nbsp; They are traveling, music, and food.&amp;nbsp; Photography makes the list as well since we use it as a brilliant device to capture our traveling and food adventures (and our loved ones, of course).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here is a blog that we are jointly opening to share our common 
interests with our friends, family, and the anonymous lurkers on the big
 internet world.&amp;nbsp; Come back soon and don&#39;t be shy.&amp;nbsp; Say hello. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFN2rqqJo3xUb5yRm7leW97OOHOcWPBb-kNLHE3BE1Dl5UWMMLk07LlcDwr5OuxwShjSQptA1johZbv6-7GOEmY8Typ-KkT1J0Qg6H7ohHG2BEbIUTYpQthdLxi5oWm0ypmB36OfegvK4/s1600/Alarm&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFN2rqqJo3xUb5yRm7leW97OOHOcWPBb-kNLHE3BE1Dl5UWMMLk07LlcDwr5OuxwShjSQptA1johZbv6-7GOEmY8Typ-KkT1J0Qg6H7ohHG2BEbIUTYpQthdLxi5oWm0ypmB36OfegvK4/s320/Alarm&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/feeds/6562019763804530954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/03/hello.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/6562019763804530954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5768896385153461452/posts/default/6562019763804530954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetravelclef.blogspot.com/2012/03/hello.html' title='Hello!'/><author><name>The Travel Clef</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11065244085498764745</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTHUr4P_7C9Drpa6qHFE4nqbRiHa2J5J56MRcXtaYBn5obQeV7iD3bd9TyhYHX6tkRYx35lDFHgfMZGqMeQnyBtAS8m7Ewh4W9Zjx4aFzrh7eQJGYvYf9VnZFhPRjzA/s220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFN2rqqJo3xUb5yRm7leW97OOHOcWPBb-kNLHE3BE1Dl5UWMMLk07LlcDwr5OuxwShjSQptA1johZbv6-7GOEmY8Typ-KkT1J0Qg6H7ohHG2BEbIUTYpQthdLxi5oWm0ypmB36OfegvK4/s72-c/Alarm" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>