Music shapes the way you experience the world. Sitting in a train looking out of the window listening to Return to sender by Elvis Presley or At last by Etta James is a completely different experience, amiright? The same thing goes for the music we grow up with. We not only choose our own music when we're but wee little ones, but we are -sometimes forced- to listen to the music played by our parents. This not only makes us pick certain songs when sitting in a train, but it also creates a particular soundtrack for our (younger) years on this earth.

"Food and music, what else do you want in life?"

I'm quite lucky with my parents' music taste. Though they are sometimes quite the opposite, moaning at each other after 'too much' Bublé or Hazes, they generally agree on the accepted classics. To find out more about my train picks I spontaneously interviewed them during supper. Food and music, what else do you want in life? In this two part series I ask my parents about their first vinyl record, concert and what they think of today's music.

That cute little bean in the middle is my dad!

Robertinooooooooo

We start with my father: to us Rob, on his birth certificate Robert, but his mum actually wanted to call him Robertino after hearing the name in a song. Unfortunately my grandpa thought it wasn't very fitting to have a Robertino running around among the otherwise very-Dutch names. So Robert it was. Fun fact: my parents wanted to call me Domino after hearing Domino by Clouseau, but decided against it as they thought it wasn't fitting to have a pizza advertisement running around (although honestly I wouldn't have mind to be called Domino. Quite cool. Quite edgy. I like pizza...).

Born in the 1960s, growing up in the 1970s and teening in the 1980s, Rob has had quite the music experience under his belt...

What's your favourite kind of music?

I love rock ballads. It's something that can really settle with you internally. It's totally different from what a singer or songwriter normally does and is -for me- a sign of artistry.

"My mother saw music synonymous to long haired trouble makers. With guitars."

What was the first vinyl record you bought?

It was this collectors record with all kinds of rock music on it like AC/DC. My mother absolutely despised it. I got it when I was sixteen or seventeen. I never had enough money to spend on such a thing before and music wasn't really a thing in our household. My mother saw music synonymous to long haired trouble makers. With guitars. I guess because during the 1970s my older sister went all flower power, which really shook up my parents. So they weren't that keen on me exploring my rock side. ;) Although at that time and at that age you automatically disliked anything your parents liked and vice versa.

What do you think of current music compared to back-in-the-day?

Music was definitely much much better. They used to make real music, now it's just covers or copywriting the past. I think it isn't necessarily about the music but the rhythm. I mean, the Rolling Stones are now still popular. Isn't that just crazy?!

First concert you've been to?

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in Rotterdam, Ahoy. It was HUGE. The saxophonist had a fifteen minutes long solo. Everyone went crazy.

Most impressive live performance you've experienced?

Michael Jackson. Without a doubt. No one can compete with him. It's a million dollar production that toured around. A real entertainer. ALSO: Tina Turner. After seeing her I was energised for three weeks afterwards. She's crazy on stage.

Who would you like to see live? (Dead or alive)

(Without any hesitation) U2. If you've ever heard Rattle and Hum you know what real music is. I only want them see perform Rattle and Hum, though.

Who's your favourite contemporary artist?

I really enjoy Rag'n'Bone Man. I actually bought his CD the other day. Also Dotan is really good.

"Fields, rain and Masda 929's I now know don't mix well together."

A fun musical anecdote?

When me and a friend went to the Michael Jackson concert in Belgium (23 August 1988), we were the first ones to arrive and proudly (and cheaply) parked my car at the back of a field. We conquered an amazing place in the stadium and couldn't be happier with ourselves. As said, the concert was amazing and as we leave, we notice it's been raining. Fields, rain and Masda 929's I now know don't mix well together. We were the first ones to arrive and we were definitely the last ones to go. Finally at six o'clock the next morning we could convince a farmer to pull us out. After we bribed him with 25 Dutch guilders.

5 Rock Ballad's Recommended by Rob

In no particular order...

1. Every breath you take by The Police
2.  Carrie by Europe
3. Please forgive me by Bryan Adams
4. Knockin on heavens door by Guns N' Roses
5. Hallelujah by Bon Jovi

[I'd like to thank all the cool people on Tumblr for their vinyl pictures. If you're one of the cool people featured, please don't be shy and claim your credit!]

I've thought of a million-and-one (or 93,000 *winks*) different ways to start this blogpost. I could for instance start writing about the product as mentioned in the title. How it's the first time I've used one of Lush's jellies or how this particular jelly isn't part of the Christmas range but could be because of its Santa red colour. I could start this blogpost with a quote or a citation. I could start with describing my 'beauty routine'. I could start with anything anywhere. But you know what, my brain said to me, followed by a deep sigh, maybe we should start with some questions like: Why are beauty reviews the least exciting yet at the same time most hard thing to write?

"Now I'm not saying these type of posts are wrong, but it certainly takes an extra oomph to make those kind of posts interesting or exciting to read."

There's just a limited thing you can do with a beauty review. Maybe that's why most reviews I've read on this topic follows a particular sequence from 'hey how y'all doing' to 'look what I bought' to 'this is what the company says about it' to 'I like/dislike it' and finally finishing it with 'bye y'all'. Now I'm not saying these type of posts are wrong, but it certainly takes an extra oomph to make those kind of posts interesting or exciting to read. And most importantly to write. Which brings us to question two: When is a beauty review sufficient enough?

Suffice to say

Is saying 'it's a nice product, a bit slippery (but what do you expect from a jelly), the smell -described as mint mixed with cinnamon- is a bit indefinable but not indefinable enough to not mention it (I've asked everyone I know to sniff me but no one could explain the smell but they did smell it) and the product lasts for a very long time', good enough? Should I rate it? Seven out of ten or three our of five (although three seems a bit low compared to the seven, so perhaps a four...). But this makes me once again wonder about the level of entertainment that is either asked or required (if only for ones own sanity) within a beauty review. Because, yes, when I'm looking for a review I want to know the basic ins and outs within one glance, but it certainly helps if this one glance is met with humour or a certain kind of entertainment value.

"Although looking for this one-glance-wonder, I definitely appreciate when the author has put some more effort into it."

Although looking for this one-glance-wonder, I definitely appreciate when the author has put some more effort into it. The more effort, the more I might stick around and read other reviews. Not for the product but for the writer (which in my eyes is a big compliment). However this begs the question: Is a beauty review the place for a writer to showcase/show-off its 'talents' or should those tendencies be put somewhere else and the beauty review routine be respected for what it is? Or is this dependent on the intentions of the writer? Say: pure informational = bullet points, let me entertain you = rambling text? (Basically stating that less isn't more on an artistic level?)

And, if so, should the entertainer take into account review-qualities when labelling their blogpost as a review or should another word be put in place. For instance 'My Elaborated Thoughts On' or 'longview'. Even though the word review in itself doesn't implicate a short opinion-piece or assessment, it certainly, I think, signifies such intentions when the word is used within the blogosphere; as reviews within the blogosphere -especially beauty products related- are structured in a short and punchy way.

That's, like, so annoying

Now I'm not deliberately trying to derail this train of the beauty review, as it is neither in my power to derail or my intentions. But it is, I hope you agree, a bit annoying at times. Annoying because it's hard to break away from the blogosphere beauty review. Not only because naming something a review upholds certain expectations, but also because it's just so hard to think of something else. To think outside the bullet points, the 'I like it, it good' and the 'I would recommend this jelly to anyone who doesn't mind the feeling of a slimey-esque jiggle against their skin' (my sister absolutely despises it). What else is there to say? It's vegan. And? Uhm... uhm... One and one and one is three?

Perhaps this asks for more creative or original thinkers to crack this case. Perhaps there's no actual problem with the beauty review or a problem of urgent matter, as I believe reviews are still popular blogposts people eagerly read to get someone else's opinion before buying the products themselves. Maybe the prescribed structure most bloggers deploy is highly usable and attractive because of its duplicate character. You know what you're getting, both with the review as a 'genre' and after reading the review with the product.

To summarise

• Christmas appropriate because of its festive colour
• Nice product but chances you drop it is 100%
• Smells a bit like mint mixed with cinnamon
• Lasts for a long time
• Vegan
• Rating: 7/10 or 3.5/5

I know, I know, I've teased you with four pupper pics and then just left you hanging for almost a month. But -you probably know where this sentence is going- SHE'S BACK! My lovely four pawed friend is doing amazing and has even become more cuddly. Though I think 1) this is because of the cold weather, as she sneakily snugs her wet nose under my scarf and 2) because she still loves to 'gently' bite in anything and everything she can get her teeth into. I'm literally talking mending holes in before-mentioned scarf. And don't get me talking about the daily struggle of tying ones shoelaces. *deep sigh* *repeats 'I love my dog, yes I do' twenty times in a row*

"Oh yes, it's a dog with a blog."

After #Blogmas day 2, I think a lighter subject is needed to keep the festive spirit alive. Or at least held in a comatose state. That's why I've taken a step back from writing today's post and cleared the stage for a more friendlier, light hearted and always happy to see you writer. Oh yes, it's a dog with a blog. After swiping my phone screen with her nose on the first day we met, I knew we had a natural talent among us. Although a debutante, I believe Sarah can turn this Blogmas right round, baby, right round.

Hello, my name is Sarah!

All hail the princess

Hello, my name is Sarah, which means princess. But you don't have to address me with 'her majesty' and can call me Saar for short. I'm exactly 11 weeks old this Sunday (at least if Dominique has done her maths right, that is. But I wouldn't one-hundred percent count on it...). And, as is introduced above, I'm taking over the blog for today. Although the logistics of this operation may be questionable, I can assure you that it's harder for me to think of it -let alone type these words with my paws- than for you.

Admittedly I'm not book smart but I think experience is just as, if not twice as, important. Although my life is still short and sweet, I've had my experiences already. The other day for instance there were hailstones as big as golf balls falling from the sky while I was trying to pee. A real struggle, you can imagine. It certainly took me a few minutes to accept the situation (much to the disdain of Dominique who was stupid enough to go outside without wearing a coat. Which I think demonstrates my point that experience is sometimes the best way to learn something). However today I don't want to talk about hailstones. I want to talk about my trip to the zoo.

Puppy invasion!

Where are all the animals? (and humans)?

Zoolander

You've heard me: a pup in a zoo. And not just one pup! Oh no, it was a true puppy-invasion as we went to the zoo as part of our puppy training course. Some go to the train station to get familiar with different smells and sounds at once, others go to the zoo. Potayto, potahto. Because, you know, what are the chances of bumping into a train these days? Next to nothing! But we should all be on the look out for those neighbourhood tigers running around town. I've seen them! With their bells ringing as if they are Santa's helpers. Lies, I tell ya, all lies! We both know Santa is led by Corgi's with beards and no stray cat can convince me otherwise!

Look at how not impressed I am.

So we went to the zoo which, in December and with a minus degrees temperature, isn't necessary idyllic. Not least as a zoo at this time of the year doesn't live up to its name. In Dutch a zoo is called a 'dierentuin', which literally means animal (dieren) garden (tuin). Sure we saw some garden work, but where are all the animals? No elephant, monkey or bird in sight. Even the penguins were hiding. Rather disappointing, you might agree. However we weren't there for the animals, we were there for turning me from a know-nothing to a know-some-of-it.

"Although the walk itself was the exercise, this didn't withheld the trainers of challenging us even more."

Although the walk itself was the exercise, this didn't withheld the trainers of challenging us even more. The first Xtreme challenge was lifting me up, and putting me next to a statue of a monkey. Although the lifting up part isn't a problem for me, the statue can be scary. It looks like a monkey, it smells like a monkey, but it isn't a monkey. I was not impressed (unlike some other puppers who 1) hated the lifting work and 2) looked into the soulless eyes of this creature and were confronted with their own existential dread).

The second Xtreme challenge had a bit more X to it: walking down the stairs. Although it is ill-advised to teach us K9's walking stairs (as we have no collarbones to soften the backlash of a step) it's still important for us to learn to walk stairs for when there's for instance an emergency (or you're one of those dogs who, when puppyd-out, are, like, really big dogs). The brave soldier that I am, I decided to go first. There's a first time for everything, amiright? Nice and gently I glided, step-by-step, until my paws touched the ground again. From now on call me X-Saar-treme.

Is it a bird? Is it not a bird?

They call me X-Saar-treme for a reason...

Dog detective

I can't deny that those Xtra challenges were fun, but it is called a dierentuin for a reason. I can't leave before seeing something move behind the glass windows! It became a mission, a quest, a duty for me to find some form of life. I sniffed, snuffed and wagged through the cold. My nose touching the ground and my feet briskly flowing over the bricks and sand. I had no time for the many strangers calling me adorable (well, admittedly, I stopped for one stranger who petted me and called me a cutie-pie. But what's a girl to do, I'm not made of steel?!). But then, suddenly, I see from a not so far distance weird creatures moving.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a monkey? No. It's a giraffe. Or so I'm later told. A giraffe and its friends came to greet us mere mortals. It's majestic body being, approximately, five times bigger than mine. Was I scared? Well, may I remind you you're talking to X-Saar-treme, scared of no nothing (but maybe perhaps cars. Cars, man, cars are something otherworldly).

Two paws and three licks from me!

And that concludes our trip to the zoo. It was cold, I saw some giraffes and from now on I go by the name of X-Saar-treme. Also I got my puppy training course certificate. So I'm not an ordinary pup, I'm a certified pup! Next I will learn how to wash the dishes!

When reading Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty I simply couldn't shut up about it. The book is an essay bundle about Doughty's experiences as a crematorium employee (mixed with her degree in medieval history), her obsession with death and her plea for death to be reintroduced into (Western) society. She writes:

This death denial, according to Doughty, explains our obsession with youth and the idea that the natural aging of our bodies is grotesque. Making us spend billions of dollars on anti-aging creams while ignoring the millions of children starving to death. Doughty is convinced that by reintroducing death into our lives we can achieve a 'good death':


As said, I simply couldn't shut up about this book when reading it. Not just because of these elevating thinking patterns, but also because of the many -what can be typified as gross- facts about dead bodies in crematoriums or unusual death rituals such as applying cannibalism (to get 'completely rid' of death) and naturally the dark humour that combines it all neatly. It provoked such a fascination that it simply had to be shared. And I knew exactly with who...

Party crashers

I wouldn't necessarily describe my sister as morbid in nature, but you would be startled with the things she says/laughs at/reads. As a comparison I asked her what she was reading at the time: a book about a deaf girl and her friend. The friend gets killed in a car crash and the ones driving the car kidnap the deaf girl as they don't want any witnesses of their fault doing. After being captured and held prisoner for some time, she falls in love with one of the people that killed her friend/kidnapped her. Eventually the car crashers get caught and put behind bars. Sounds fun right? Innocent stuff. "Yeah, but what you're reading is true!", my sister protests, "mine is just all fantasy!". Yeah... So twisted fantasy isn't as bad as cold hard facts as it isn't based on the truth? (What do you think, dearest reader?).

"After going on and on and on about the details of how a certain tribe ate their rotting deceased, she briskly turns to me and said: You'll have to shut up now."

Anyway, I thought the best time to share my newest fascination was during a train/bus ride to Utrecht for school business; I had to hand-in an essay and my sister had an exam. However after going on and on and on about the details of how a certain tribe ate their rotting deceased, she briskly turns to me and said: "You'll have to shut up now, I'm truly going to be sick and I still have to do my exam!". "Sorry", I replied somewhat sheepishly and promised to shut up till after the exams. Then I went on and on and on and on again (but this time about how dead bodies get prepared in crematoriums and how your face sinks in after your brain is removed).

RECOMMENDED: 3 Reasons You Should Watch BrainDead

They call it death, doom and despair for a reason

Although she couldn't fully appreciate the dark horrors of reality. I persuaded sister-dear to think just a little bit longer about death with me. Call it an innocent family bonding exercise...

How would you describe your relation with death?

I try not to think about it. It isn't really a happy subject, if you get what I mean. But I don't mind talking about it as long as it doesn't get too specific or personal.

But are you scared of death?

I find it uneasy when directly confronted with it, but I wouldn't say I'm scared. There are so many other things to be scared about. But if the doctor said to me 'you're dying' I also wouldn't be cheering. *she dramatically pauses* Dead animals do give me the creeps. When I'm doing my round [she's a postman] and there's a dead bird or something lying in the drive way, I'm not going near it. No way.

So those people just won't receive their post that day?

Well one time someone who lived in that house just arrived so I could give it to him, but otherwise no. Dead animals is where it stops for me.

Doughty describes in her book how we can prevent an existential crisis if we re-evaluate our relation to death. If we aren't as fussed or confused or upset about the idea of death, we can achieve a 'good death' (Doughty also talks in this regards to a more natural way of burial, but I won't go into that). What do you think?

I think it's in human nature that we're curious about existential matters and the question 'why we die' will therefore never cease to exist. I think that if you see or relate to death through the eyes of a certain believe or religion, it already drastically changes in how you deal with it and accept it, as there's something you can hold on to. So in that way the idea of a good death is very partial.

"Although when I do reincarnate I want to become a sheep. Or a frog."

However you're not particularly religious, so what's the 'salvation' for us non-believers?

You're right. Personally I think there's more than just life and death, but I don't have a particular idea of what that more is, like heaven or reincarnation. Although when I do reincarnate I want to become a sheep. Or a frog.

Media, I think, also plays a significant role in the way we go about the idea and acceptance of death.

The news mainly focuses on tragedies, which can be seen as abnormalities. Like, they never report on someone who died peacefully at eighty-something after having lived a nice life. You generally only hear about people who are gruesomely killed. And it also mostly focuses on the how or the who but not the way people deal with those deaths afterwards.

Recently there's been some commotion in the (fashion/beauty) blogging world where people are being accused of misplacing or not using their power or influence to talk about -among other things- tragedies that have happened in the world (and to try to change them for the better). Do you think blogs should provide a space where tragedies (or world politics) can be discussed?

I think that most people write and read blogs as a way to relax or as a fun activity. I don't necessarily think bloggers are therefore obliged to write about death, doom and despair. Also as a reader I don't think you're waiting to always be ethically informed as there are so many other ways you can get that kind of information. On a more personal level, this makes me think about those people who post on Facebook that their grandma died or something with a sad face. And then a hundred people 'likes' the post. I don't think that's the way to do it.

If that's not the way, what else?

Well I think people should be more considerate if for instance somebody dies directly related to you. You should give and take time to process that grief on your own or within a closed group. Instead of immediately making it something a hundred people can like. But naturally everyone deals differently with death and grief, which makes it so difficult.

"You should give and take time to process that grief on your own or within a closed group. Instead of immediately making it something a hundred people can like."

So what do you think then, if you say social media isn't necessarily the place to discuss death and grief, about me trying to include it on my blog (see for instance here, here and here) and even making a #Blogmas post out of it?

Personally I'm not a fan. However it is a way of trying to deal with it. And if the topic is introduced with a waring attached to it [so the happy go lucky reader isn't by accident bummed out] I think it's fine.

After everything that I've told you, would you be interested in borrowing Smoke Gets In Your Eyes?

*silence* Well... I'm more of a fiction kind of person. But sure. I will flip through it when I'm in the right mood. Also I think for me a big thing would be to try to think of it as a fictional work so I don't get traumatised by the realness.

Last question: do you have any specific requests for when you die?

When I was a teenager I went through this period really being 'busy' with my death and how it should be like. Mainly because I registered myself as a donor and wanted to know all the ins and outs of what would happen to my body. Also I used to really want to get buried, but now I'm not so fussy. In general I think my funeral shouldn't be very fussy. You don't have to build me a palace or something.

Any music requests?

I will survive. ;)

Death is indeed not the happiest subject one could talk about, but it is important to talk about it from time to time. It's actually something that's on my mind a lot (casually whispering "please don't kill me" when crossing the road or the daily scheduled existential crisis at 4 a.m.). However by thinking about death in a different way, and therefore not distancing ourselves any further from it, can be very healthy and part of a healing process. That's not to say that I'm now suddenly switching 'careers' so I can play with dead bodies in a morgue for the rest of my life, but certainly talking about it -and against my sister's wishes- writing about it on here or anywhere else is a step forward into changing my thinking pattern on the horrors of getting older and closer to death day by day.

I, in contrast to many other people, am not a very festive person. Sure, my eyes glisten when walking through our local garden centre when its buried in fake snow, twinkle lights and baubles that can decorate every tree -Christmas specific or not- in the world. And sure, I don't mind festive lights on the street or the sound of Michael Bublé coming out of my radio. I'm unfestive, not a cold hearted monster.

"Because lets face it, consensual or not, if it were up to the shops September would already be seen as Christmas-appropriate (which it isn't)."

But still I'm glad, after our trip to the garden centre, to close the door and shut out all the merriness that comes with the season. Or the season before it. Because lets face it, consensual or not, if it were up to the shops September would already be seen as Christmas-appropriate (which it isn't). Now the hype, thankfully, starts a little bit later after the clock strikes 00:01 on November the first. Although I'm already pushing it as, yes, you probably have already been greeted by a snowman before the first of November. If not by some 'cool guy' who thought it was 'funny' to dress like a snowman for Halloween (which it isn't).

When looking up possible content for Blogmas (literally just typed 'blogmas' into Google search. But still, the effort that went into it...), I more and more came to realise how much of an unfestive person I am. Admittedly I already have attempted a Blogmas of sorts back in 2015, last year I did a pitiful and downright lazy attempt with #bookmas and this year it is once again my own brain who has deluded me into thinking this is a good idea despite my apparent disgust and low tolerance for the whole affair. Also me having 1) no time to spare and 2) nothing to share should've been taken into consideration but nooooo my brain just flat out ignores my pains and needs in favour of some fictional man in a red coat. Merry bloody Christmas.

My itchy Christmas-rash

Going by the festive suggestions given by past-fellow Blogmas colleagues (who are willing to not only devote every. single. blogpost. on Christmas but are also sincere enthusiasts spreading 'cheerfulness' all the ho-ho-ho way round. Which, I get, is basically the whole idea behind this thing. But still), I've identified my so called Christmas-rash. My problem. My infestiveness, if you please. I think that my disgruntled spirit stems from *dramatic drum roll* my non-religious, non-traditional and non-social background. This is most evident in the many possible Blogmas posts that are already eliminated for me from the get-go. Favourite Christmas family tradition? Have none. Christmas tree reveal? Have none. Favourite Christmas decoration? Have no... actually my mother bought a bauble the other day. It's a red car with a tree on it. Can't say it's my favourite though. YOU SEE MY PROBLEM?

I basically have no reason to be giddy and excited about this what-now-turns-out-to-be regular Monday. Yes, I won't have to go to uni, but my classes always start on Tuesday, so what's the relief in that? Deadlines go ahead as usual. *puts fist in the air* If only I had any sense of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) or, you know, happiness (jk), I'd be much more steamed ready for this time of year. I'd be ambushing all the potential Christmas trees in the forest, fight over the last chicken nuggets with an old lady in the supermarket despite being a vegetarian and whole-heartedly shout every Christmas carol I know when cycling though the city throwing tinsel in the air. It could be amazing! If it didn't sound so awful...

"I will do my very-merry best, as much as my own soul allows me to be, to make this Blogmas festive."

This and probably many other internal (and external) struggles will take centre stage these coming days. Although I will do my very-merry best, as much as my own soul allows me to be, to make this Blogmas festive. There will be a little bit more non-Christmas spirit sprinkled around than is usually expected within this 'tradition'. I will also do my very-merry best to actually (try to) fulfil my obligations as a self-employed/implied Blogmas blogger and (try to, hope to *fingers crossed* *touch wood*) upload 25 blogposts from now on. I know, that's literally more posts than I've written all year so... you know... you're welcome.

So get on board my imaginary sledge led by fifteen corgi's wearing fake beards flying over a hot-chocolate lake while looking critically at everything and lets make this Blogmas okay-ish!