Sounds of the Cottage

The evening that my best friend Julia texted, I was having a glass of wine with my husband. The dogs were sprawled all over us like live rugs, the windows and sliding door were open to let in the spring breeze and we were having one of those ‘intellectual masturbation’ sessions where you randomly discuss nothing and everything about life, including its meaning.

Old Amy Winehouse videos were playing on the big screen. Their black-and-white schemes added a sense of nostalgia to the mood, as did the smell of the cigarillo my husband was smoking.

I went out on the deck to talk to Julia, “Back to Black” still playing in the background.

The next day I booked my flight to Halifax, Canada.

We rented a cute cottage by the lake, a couple of minutes drive from a quaint, little town in Nova Scotia, Canada. Me, Julia, and her sister Lucy.

Julia was waiting on more tests. Did she have cancer or not?

What do you do while you wait?

We went to cute cafes and walked by the water during the day, and in the evenings it was my job was to dig up the cheesiest European dance music I could find. That’s pretty much my talent. Every time I see Julia she says she expects to be awed by a random, and hopefully tragically cheesy, German or Italian song. It helps that I have Polish background and lived in both Italy and Germany. I can google away in all three languages.

Over a bottle of wine we found Nein Mann, by Laserkraft. The video was full of 1990’s horrendousness, so of course we got it up on the big screen and that night even Julia's and Lucy's partners were invited over to try and sing the lyrics in terrible attempts at German.

But, the unanimous decision was that we needed to learn a new dance. A terrible, new dance. Everyone fell in love with Paul Wetz’s, gangly spider-lookalike moves in Ode an dem Bass. That, plus his ‘stache was unbeatable and after a couple of glasses of wine, we were staring at him on repeat.

The next day: drive to Halifax for tests.

That night: Looking for more, terrible dances.

It’s how we roll.

Watching tik tok attempts at Coinicidance by Handsome Dancer is like falling down the longest rabbit hole. You really can’t stop staring once you start. Though, you probably should, because sooner or later you will attempt to catch your bestie in your arms as per the many tik tok moves you have just witnessed and you will find, via your injuries, that you are just not tik tok material.

The next day: winery tour. I was going to wear a skirt, by since Coincidance led to a couple bruises I ended up in pants. Not a bad thing because it was randomly, and brutally cold. Montagem Coral by SHADXWLXRD is what gets your heart pumping and the blood flowing and it got us to the first winery, where we would leave the car and continue on in Uber.

The patio of the first winery was windy as hell. They gave out thick blankets even below the heat lamps. We refused to give in and sat like abominable snowwomen, huddled together around a table, our wine glasses peeking out from under our blankets. Lucy kept singing ‘Nein Mann’ under her breath until we joined in, laughing. Giving up all pretenses we finally hollered ‘Nein Mann’ and chugged the rest of our wine flights, trying to recover feeling in our toes as we ran for the Uber.

The second winery was indoors, and we watched the wind whipping around us through the large windows, Montagem Coral still beating in our ears and Lucy still randomly mouthing ‘Nein Mann’. That song apparently lived in her head, rent free, for over six months.

After some time, the sparkly heat from the fireplace began to enter our bones and we began to slow down, and chill out. By the time we returned to the cottage the three of us felt a sense of love and closeness for each other and something sweeter, cuter and perhaps a little cheesier, was needed in terms of music.

We recounted goofy moments from years gone by while Kylie Minogue did her cheesy dance to Padam Padam.

Somehow, the algorithm decided that Jalebi Baby by Tesher and Jason Derulo would be within my interest level and it came on next. Ok. I admit it. It is.

Videos are my thing, so we were watching them out of the corner of our eyes as the music played and we talked. We stopped and stared at the video of Jalebi Baby and decided that the next day we had to have Indian food. Yes, of course we googled what a jalebi is. It looked delicious.

Next day: none of us liked jalebi. Thank God the biryani and korma saved the day. Otherwise we’d be throwing the icky, sticky jalebi dessert at the TV screen as it replayed the video of Jalebi Baby, feeling completely deceived.

That’s when the results came in. Not cancer. It was a host of other issues that would take another year to fully deal with, but, it was not cancer.

My husband picked me up from the airport with our son. I put Nein Mann on. My son begged me to stop torturing him. So, I let him connect his phone to the Bluetooth. He tried to put on K-pop. I said, “over my dead body.” My husband nodded his agreement. My son begged. He said BLACKPINK was awesome. Fine. BLACKPINK it is. I hate to admit it, but Pink Venom isn't half bad. Not saying I’m going to start listening to K-pop regularly, but, BLACKPINK has obtained permission to be played in our car.

I listened to Amy Winehouse over a glass of wine again that evening. It seemed like I’d gone full circle. Her music always brings a sense of nostalgia with it. Beyond its sound and the old school videos, I think it’s because of her untimely death. But, we were all alive. And well. Right now. And the moment felt perfect. I recalled our little cottage and while what brought us to it was a taste of hardship, the result was my best memory of the year.

Suddenly, we heard BlackPink reverberating throughout the house. Damn. I should have figured it wouldn’t stay in our car.