Krysten Lindsay Hager - Brunch at Tiffany's

Well, they're not going to let Boy George into the country to tour. Sigh. A great lost for all of Americans. I'd wear a black arm band to protest, but I'm much too lazy to go find a piece of black material...cut it into arm band...I'm getting tired just thinking about it. Instead I will sit in the dark and listen to "Karma Chameleon" and "Bow Down Mister" until the neighbors complain. My only hope is that he'll be able to tour in the States in two years and then I'll be in the front row of the concert. Until then I'll just have to admire his talent for applying eyeliner (seriously, nobody does it better) and enjoy his music on my own.

When do I leave the country? Except for a brief trip to Canada here and there, practically never. So why then are George Michael, New Kids on the Block (they only call themselves NKOTB because they feel stupid being called "kids" at 40-something) and now Boy George touring the U.S.? Answer: to be cruel. I would love to go to see all the acts on tour, but no, stick me on an island far away from society so I can't. I'd like to think that since all of George Michael's arrests came immediately after I got engaged and then married, that he was struggling to deal with the pain. That being said I do own some lovely real estate known as the Brooklyn Bridge. In my sick mind I can rationalize that it was too painful for NKOTB (especially Jon, he was my favorite) and George to tour with me out of the country because it would be too painful to see me now. But really I'm owed a NKOTB concert. I did go to one as a kid, but at the height of their popularity my cous...

When we first got here we were told to explore the island and, "don't worry, you can't get lost on an island." Lies. You can get lost on an island especially when they have detours that take you down teensy tiny streets with no street signs and no indication if it's one way and, if it is, which way you're supposed to go. We've had a few issues trying to navigate around those narrow streets, but thought we were getting to know our way around. Then came Sunday. One thing about this place is there's always a Portuguese holiday and there's always a festival. So on our way home from exploring some volcano rock (I used to go to museums, now I look at steaming rocks, what's wrong with this picture? And does my insurance cover volcanic eruptions?), we found the road we needed to take blocked by a festival. It was ten p.m., and this place doesn't believe in adequate street lights, so we took a tiny, narrow road, ran into traffic confusio...

When I first found out I'd be moving to the Azores my response was, "Where is that?" I'm not a geography master, but I had never heard of it. I even misspelled it when I tried to "Google" it. Then, when I finally found it, it appeared it was right off the coast of Portugal. I imagined myself taking a little ferry over to mainland Portugal twice a week where I could shop and wander around the downtown wearing fabulous European clothes and heels. Then I was at a furniture store and looked at a globe. Apparently much like mapmakers like to stick Alaska and Hawaii at the bottom of the page as if they're south of California and within yachting distance of each other, the map I saw was off...900 miles off. There is no way to take a ferry from the Azores to Portugal unless you have a death wish. So I found out the cruel reality that I was going to live in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. As for me wandering around downtowns in cute outfits and...