Armenian Superstar!

I used to be a big American Idol fan. I watched the first season pretty much from beginning to end, AND season one winner Kelly Clarkson was my favorite from the get-go. Too bad the music she chose to record after winning was so insipid. Anyway, I was really excited when I walked by this poster on Mashtots Avenue a few weeks ago:



It was an advertisement for a live concert by the stars of Armenian Superstar. Clearly, I had to go. So, I talked a couple of girlfriends into attending with me, and we bought the cheapest seats they had, up in the balcony. (What's sad is that, while you can get front-row tickets to the opera for 3,000 dram - about $8 -- front-row seats for Armenian Superstar cost three times that.) It was worth every penny.

The show was in the Aram Khachaturian concert hall, which is the big concert venue in town.



This guy was my favorite, and he was only in the back-up band.



They started the show with a Mickey Mouse Club-style rendition of the Scorpions' hit "Wind of Change," about the fall of communism. First two people sang, then two more, and by the end, all 11 of them were standing in a semi-circle swaying back and forth and singing.





After that, they each came out one-by-one to sing their own songs, in their own unique costume choices.

Pop tart:



Requisite rocker:



I call her Christina Aguilerian:



Here she is again:



Richard Marxian or Corey Haimian:



I think I'm in love. Sorry, Jeremy:

Armenian ice cream

I will definitely miss it. After the packers left today (leaving things half-packed and my living room a box-fort heaven for an eight-year-old), I went out for dinner, and decided, after my lasagna al fresco, to indulge in some ice cream. My wedding dress is safely packed away, and I can't possibly gain enough weight by Sunday to preclude the zipping-up of my concert dress. And it wouldn't really matter anyway, except for the fact that Armenian ice-cream, besides being smooth, creamy and delicious, is probably about 92 percent butter fat. Hence the smooth, creamy and delicious. My favorite variety is the Dove bar facsimile - vanilla ice-cream within, crunch chocolate coating without. Only here, instead of costing $4.29 plus tax, you can get one on the street for 150 dram (about 42 cents at today's abysmal exchange rate; it was just 33 cents two years ago!). It's worth it. I can diet in the States. Vis blog!

Packing day

I wish I knew how to say that in Danish. Why Danish? Funny you should ask. My Blogger (the vehicle on which we create this blog) recently decided that I was actually a Dane, and thus all the instructions should be in Danish. It did this a month ago, and no amount of effort (including, yes, thank you, changing the settings on both My Blogger and my computer) has been able to switch it back. So now, instead of viewing a draft, I can "vis eksempel." Instead of moderating comments, I can "moderer kommentarer." I can also deal with "Indstillinger," "Skabelon," and"Betjeningspanel," whatever the heck those are. There is one word I recognize ... "Hjaelp!"

Anyway, the packers are coming in an hour and a half. Despite a freakout last night (Jeremy is getting a good taste of married life from 6,000 miles, I think), it seems most everything is in order. Despite the great shoe organization of Sunday, where I actually willingly put about three-eighths of my collection into storage, I was not able to stomach the thought of doing the same with my clothes. I realize I will regret this when our junk is delivered to our shoebox apartment at the Kabul Arms. But I don't have to worry about it for a good six or seven months. So there. Indlaeg! (Whatever that means.)

Welcome to Adulthood!!!!

Ah, Graduation!! The moment you stop becoming a child and start becoming an adult. Fireworks, bands play and the clouds part with a shaft of light that reveals all the truths of adulthood. Sorry, was watching Shrek there for a minute.

Anyway, as some of you might have read earlier, this past weekend was a special one for our family: My sister, Jessica’s college graduation from Hamline University in St. Paul. It was a special moment as she is the final one to graduate, so now everyone is off into adulthood. Well, at least she is. She’s been more mature, adult-acting than I probably am now, or at least when I graduated.

Well, sit back, put your feet up and enjoy the pictures.

It's OVER!!!!!




The 'Rents are so happy. No more Loans!!!!


And so are the brothers!

The tugboat we all stayed on for the weekend. So awesome, you have to try it sometime.


The whole family together for a dinner, pre-graduation, at Il Vesca Vino (The Bishop's Wine), where Jessica was a waitress. Amazing dinner and great wine!!!! Maybe a little too good for some people.


Grandpa trying to figure out where the power button is.





















Are we finished yet?
















And now the party can start!!!



Let's play some Bocce!!
























And show off our muscles. Which way to the beach baby!!






















Great form Sis!




















And we're out!!!

I HATE PACKING

I really do. I don't know how I got it into my head that it was a good idea to live a lifestyle that involves packing up your life every two years. I've lugged six Hefty bags of clothes and shoes out to donate, and I still have too much crap. I used to think of myself as a person who didn't have a lot of stuff. Clearly I was mistaken. I laid out all my clothes on my bed today, in piles according to type of clothing, and filled up another Hefty bag of everything that I hadn't worn in a year. Barely made a dent. Heretofore, loyal blog readers (all three of you), I vow not to buy anything other than that which I need.