Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Spaces and Places
On home. How is it that you can travel the whole world, and still not find home? Isn't it just a small enclosed space where you rest and exist? Somehow, this simple endeavor is the challenge of a life time. Some people have a really clear and defined idea of what and where home is. I am always jealous of those people. For me, I keep rolling from this place to that and while some feel much more like home than others, there is NEVER any clear idea. I once shared a one bedroom apartment with a great friend for a year, and to me, my defining concept of what home is has become that apartment. There's always the tiniest drop of murky hope, that it might be possible again; and of course the overwhelming fear of the reality, that it's not.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
After a long hiatus
Things have no choice but to be ok. Right? In this fast paced world, where everyone is rushing past you, without the slightest concern of knocking you right out of their way, you have no choice but to brace yourself, make your feet fall strong on the ground, to really connect, so that the shoves and pushes don’t send you flying. The question of the day, week, month and year has been, is it: I’m only twenty-five, or I’m already twenty-five!? To be honest, I don’t know the answer. I probably never will, maybe not even when I’m 55. Some of us are put together, and some are not. My pieces are jagged and I like them that way. I have been learning a lot about myself in Paris. Especially about my resilience, a quality, I didn’t know I had. A lot of bad shit has happened recently, with loosing housing and money and so forth, but there is no point in writing about it. I think a lot about random things on long metro rides. Mostly the metro brings out the melancholy in me. Anyways, I started thinking about the notion of choice and will on the metro today. The fact of it is, we always have more choices than we ever chose to admit. Anyways, I can choose to dwell on the awful scam and losing out, or I can choose to not. I choose to not, in every sense.
Paris and France in general are going a little crazy these days. What baffles me is the reaction of the youth. Compared to the sluggish apathy of the US, the youth here are incredibly invested and active. The only thing is, for most, the active investment seems to be more to jump on the band wagon than to actually enact any change. Anyways, as a result, things are getting fairly destructive. Which in short, is stupid.
That aside, things are wonderful. I have been walking around the city, going to gardens and reading books. I got a library membership a few days ago, which has been amazing. The past two days, I cooked with friends, which was also great. I recreated a dish that Victor’s mom made for us when we were in Noisy, at Fariba’s. I think it turned out great, or at least she complimented it a lot, and ate it all. Today, I cooked with some other friends and we made our French friends try mac and cheese, which they loved. But when you use 2 blocks of cheddar, one packet of cream fresh and butter, there aren’t many people who won’t like it.
I want to be writing more. I think of a lot to say and write when I am on the metro, and I need to start carrying a notebook and a pen on me to just write the thoughts when they come to me. The short story I submitted to the contest has made it to the final round… sooooo… fingers crossed; it might make it all the way to actually get a placement, which would be amazing. I don’t know why it should matter, getting recognition, but somehow it does. I spend a lot of time thinking about who exactly I’m writing for. If it’s for me, then why does it matter if I get published or not, and why does it matter if anyone reads it. And honestly, if the end goal is to have a readership, then why is it so mortifying to show what you’re writing to anyone? How does that make sense? Anyways, since most things don’t make sense, this can just get added to the list.
I saw this secret on post secret that said: “my mental illnesses have been worth my talents”. I can’t really get it out of my head.
Today I went to the Jardin des plantes and amused myself by thinking about networks of people and how in many ways our interactions are like a giant body of water. We constantly create movement and tides, high and low, with the push and pull of emotions, a waning and strengthening of bonds and feelings, as we pull closer and farther away from each other.
Nothing too deep, just a weird thought that amused me for a little bit.
After the Jardin, I went to the coolest Moroccan tea saloon and drank sweet tea with honey cake! and honestly, there were birds flying all over the place, but they were the really little kind, so I was ok. Nadda wanted to feed them, and even I was able to get behind that idea, because it was actually kind of cute. So I took some of my cake and crumbled it onto the table... bad idea. Around ten of the little birds flew over and totally freaked the shit out me. I'm surprised I didn't freak out and run screaming.
Anyways, Paris is great so far. Can’t wait to make my little hole apartment cute and have friends over for dinner and wine!
Paris and France in general are going a little crazy these days. What baffles me is the reaction of the youth. Compared to the sluggish apathy of the US, the youth here are incredibly invested and active. The only thing is, for most, the active investment seems to be more to jump on the band wagon than to actually enact any change. Anyways, as a result, things are getting fairly destructive. Which in short, is stupid.
That aside, things are wonderful. I have been walking around the city, going to gardens and reading books. I got a library membership a few days ago, which has been amazing. The past two days, I cooked with friends, which was also great. I recreated a dish that Victor’s mom made for us when we were in Noisy, at Fariba’s. I think it turned out great, or at least she complimented it a lot, and ate it all. Today, I cooked with some other friends and we made our French friends try mac and cheese, which they loved. But when you use 2 blocks of cheddar, one packet of cream fresh and butter, there aren’t many people who won’t like it.
I want to be writing more. I think of a lot to say and write when I am on the metro, and I need to start carrying a notebook and a pen on me to just write the thoughts when they come to me. The short story I submitted to the contest has made it to the final round… sooooo… fingers crossed; it might make it all the way to actually get a placement, which would be amazing. I don’t know why it should matter, getting recognition, but somehow it does. I spend a lot of time thinking about who exactly I’m writing for. If it’s for me, then why does it matter if I get published or not, and why does it matter if anyone reads it. And honestly, if the end goal is to have a readership, then why is it so mortifying to show what you’re writing to anyone? How does that make sense? Anyways, since most things don’t make sense, this can just get added to the list.
I saw this secret on post secret that said: “my mental illnesses have been worth my talents”. I can’t really get it out of my head.
Today I went to the Jardin des plantes and amused myself by thinking about networks of people and how in many ways our interactions are like a giant body of water. We constantly create movement and tides, high and low, with the push and pull of emotions, a waning and strengthening of bonds and feelings, as we pull closer and farther away from each other.
Nothing too deep, just a weird thought that amused me for a little bit.
After the Jardin, I went to the coolest Moroccan tea saloon and drank sweet tea with honey cake! and honestly, there were birds flying all over the place, but they were the really little kind, so I was ok. Nadda wanted to feed them, and even I was able to get behind that idea, because it was actually kind of cute. So I took some of my cake and crumbled it onto the table... bad idea. Around ten of the little birds flew over and totally freaked the shit out me. I'm surprised I didn't freak out and run screaming.
Anyways, Paris is great so far. Can’t wait to make my little hole apartment cute and have friends over for dinner and wine!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Past few crazy days
The past week or so has been a blur of highs and lows. The whole being homeless thing, would be liberating, if it wasn't for the fact that works starts on Monday and I have so much shit that I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I could just give it away to the other homeless people on the metro and live in my suitcases. Kelly and I have considered that. Anyways, everything ranges from being manically happy and laughing till I'm about to cry to actually just crying. Well more, Kelly than me, on the crying front, if you just excuse the total panic attack I almost had two nights ago while drunk on the metro, with strangers no less. Anyways, We moved out of Noisy, and into Pigale. We live next to the sexodrum. it's great. Pigale is fun, but sketchy beyond control. I've seen more hookers in the past few nights, then I'll probably see for the rest of my life... i hope. Anyways, there is no shower, no wifi and a public toilet. It's a box. Friends have been kind enough to let us use their shower. So the highest point was when Kelly and I found an apartment right next to the Eiffel Tower. It was amazing and cute and we could afford it with three people. PERFECT. the landlady said, she would hold it for us and pretty much the apartment was ours. Cloud 9. Anyways, from there things slowly started to unwind. I had met another girl from my program back in the US who had said if ever there was a situation where we needed a third, she was interested. However, asking her to to deposit 2K into a French bank account for a place she hasn't even seen seemed like asking a little too much. Anyways, I asked, she understandably was skeptical and said no. It was a similar case with other friends we have made. No one wanted to say yes to the apt. without seeing it. (we had pictures etc) but still, and I get where they are coming from. But anyways, this caused us to get totally desperate, since we had already secured this amazing apartment and were about to lose it for lack of a third person. I posted on the TAPIF facebook page, put out a craigslist add, it got grim. Mind you, all this is being done within 1 day. We just saw the apartment, that's the pace of real estate here. Also, we had no internet, so all of this was being done form our office, the local Mc Donalds (free wifi). We were there till 1:30 am, and were finally forced to leave because of the overwhelming # of homeless people that were crowding around us. The next day, we woke up and headed straight to the office and started searching for a potential third again. We were meeting with our land lord at 6:30 that evening to sign the contract and get the keys. We pretty much sat at the mcdonalds calling random people from facebook and craigslist, asking them to meet us at the Macdo off Pigale. lol. We met with around 8 or 9 people until we hit jackpot. Enter Gabby. She's the shit. lol. She responded to my craigslist post, I called her, she came to Pigale and pretty much within the first few min. it was clear we were going to get along and most importantly, she understood how we couldn't show her the apartment and the pictures were enough for her. Anyways, so we had our 3rd, we actually REALLY liked her and life was good. It was around 5:00 by now. We went back to the box to get ready and meet with the landlord. I had called her earlier to confirm our meeting. She called back around 5:15 and told me, "she was so sorry, but she had already rented the apartment out to someone else". Now, I guess this is going to happen a lot, but this was the first time it happened, and it sucked hard core. Kelly cried, I can't really cry when it's stuff like this... but we went out that night and met a few assistants and drank a little and it kicked in for me then. I sort of had a mini panic attack on the metro about how I had no where to live, and really didn't have too many places to go back to. For me, it's the highs and lows. I can keep trucking it and trying to find a place and showering at friend's places and working out of the Macdo, but the high of thinking it's over, only to have it totally not work out, sucks. Anyways, the whole thing isn't all bad, because we met Gabby. She's really cool. I showered at her uncle's house yesterday and him and his girlfriend made me an amazing French dinner. Over dinner I proceeded to ask him how old his pussy was, and that I thought is pussy was really cute. French word for cat = Chat. Apparently, if you pronounce the "T" then it's slang for pussy. YAY FRANCE! but no really, i'm loving it. Please wish me good housing luck.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Mumford, madness and mediocrity
On Mumford:
Yesterday I was lucky enough to see one of my favorite bands preform live. I was able to go, because someone I'm becoming friends with had an extra ticket. How I became lucky enough to receive said ticket, I have no idea, but I'm glad. The show was amazing. I know that's what everyone always says about their most recent show... but it was incredible. From the second I walked into the venue the music was exhilarating. Nathaniel Rateliff was one of the opening performers, and while I thought he looked like the dwarf from Lord of The Rings, I'm simply in love with his voice. His vocal chords are thing of total wonder. I have been listening to his music and it is wonderful. He's also known to perform in random parks, so I can only hope to get so lucky. The next band that performed was a new discovery as well. Old Crow Medicine Show were also just incredible. I got their album Big Iron World, and it's pretty phenomenal. It baffles me that they've been recording since the 90's and I've never heard of them. It also makes me realize how much great talent there is out there, in every respect, that I just have not come into contact with.
Also hanging out with someone who isn't already an established friend served as a solid reminder of what an awkward spazz I can be with new people. To be honest, I was incredibly nervous and self conscious, because I felt like it was too much to just accept the ticket for the show without paying for it. In reality, I was invited, and I had offered to pay, so it probably wasn't a big deal at all. But me being me, and not really used to random amazing favors, was really uncomfortable and awkward. I think at one point I was talking about witch doctors and throwing babies out of windows...eek. lol. Anyways, as soon as I heard the music, it all just went away. I felt like I was just there by myself. Nathaniel Rateliff's voice is amazing. He sang a song, that I've discovered is called "shroud" and his voice and the music is the only thing I can remember from there on. It reminded me of what music is to me, how I can just go to shows by myself, and have the time of my life. It is great.
On Madness:
So, we're officially homeless. On the road, using Macdo (McDonalds) wifi to get in touch with people. Living in a hole the size of a pull out bed with no bathroom and a public toilet that is shared with 12 other people...lol..awesome. And yes, no bathroom = no shower. So we're at the mercy of people we know with bathrooms, to take showers at their places... it's good stuff. I plan on dealing with this by drinking lots of wine, eating lots of macaroons and just walking around the city taking pictures. good stuff.
On Mediocrity:
Every time I am in the presence of what I consider true talent, it throws me into a whirlwind of emotions. It ranges from aspiration, to inspiration, to self loathing, to just awe. I am not sure at what stage in that cycle I am right now, but the process has definitely started. I am incredibly bad at self gauging. Maybe everyone is. I can't really worry about everyone though. If thousands of books later, great thinkers have been unable to quantify the unbridgeable chasm that exists between people, far be it for me take it on. The fact that I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about it, is an entirely different matter. At any rate, figuring out my own creative capacity, and creating a space for myself in which I can stand against my own standards is an important part of what I'm doing here in France. I hope to be able to figure out what the correct questions are, so that I can start answering them.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to see one of my favorite bands preform live. I was able to go, because someone I'm becoming friends with had an extra ticket. How I became lucky enough to receive said ticket, I have no idea, but I'm glad. The show was amazing. I know that's what everyone always says about their most recent show... but it was incredible. From the second I walked into the venue the music was exhilarating. Nathaniel Rateliff was one of the opening performers, and while I thought he looked like the dwarf from Lord of The Rings, I'm simply in love with his voice. His vocal chords are thing of total wonder. I have been listening to his music and it is wonderful. He's also known to perform in random parks, so I can only hope to get so lucky. The next band that performed was a new discovery as well. Old Crow Medicine Show were also just incredible. I got their album Big Iron World, and it's pretty phenomenal. It baffles me that they've been recording since the 90's and I've never heard of them. It also makes me realize how much great talent there is out there, in every respect, that I just have not come into contact with.
Also hanging out with someone who isn't already an established friend served as a solid reminder of what an awkward spazz I can be with new people. To be honest, I was incredibly nervous and self conscious, because I felt like it was too much to just accept the ticket for the show without paying for it. In reality, I was invited, and I had offered to pay, so it probably wasn't a big deal at all. But me being me, and not really used to random amazing favors, was really uncomfortable and awkward. I think at one point I was talking about witch doctors and throwing babies out of windows...eek. lol. Anyways, as soon as I heard the music, it all just went away. I felt like I was just there by myself. Nathaniel Rateliff's voice is amazing. He sang a song, that I've discovered is called "shroud" and his voice and the music is the only thing I can remember from there on. It reminded me of what music is to me, how I can just go to shows by myself, and have the time of my life. It is great.
On Madness:
So, we're officially homeless. On the road, using Macdo (McDonalds) wifi to get in touch with people. Living in a hole the size of a pull out bed with no bathroom and a public toilet that is shared with 12 other people...lol..awesome. And yes, no bathroom = no shower. So we're at the mercy of people we know with bathrooms, to take showers at their places... it's good stuff. I plan on dealing with this by drinking lots of wine, eating lots of macaroons and just walking around the city taking pictures. good stuff.
On Mediocrity:
Every time I am in the presence of what I consider true talent, it throws me into a whirlwind of emotions. It ranges from aspiration, to inspiration, to self loathing, to just awe. I am not sure at what stage in that cycle I am right now, but the process has definitely started. I am incredibly bad at self gauging. Maybe everyone is. I can't really worry about everyone though. If thousands of books later, great thinkers have been unable to quantify the unbridgeable chasm that exists between people, far be it for me take it on. The fact that I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about it, is an entirely different matter. At any rate, figuring out my own creative capacity, and creating a space for myself in which I can stand against my own standards is an important part of what I'm doing here in France. I hope to be able to figure out what the correct questions are, so that I can start answering them.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Delicious Food Spotlight!
La Duree:
How is anyone expected to stay thin in Paris, when La Dure exists?? Honestly! I've discovered and become obsessed with macaroons. They are so amazing and the ones at La Duree are exceptionally delicious.
Not to mention the pastries and cakes that are in all the little bakeries at every corner. Yesterday, after starving for the whole day because we're stupid, kelly and I finally walked to the local market in Noisy. There we bought a baguette and a wheel of amazing cheese, which we totally inhaled on the street corner, like some urchins. Anyways, after that I ate my first French eclair! sooo amazing. <3
A few nights ago we went out to dinner with Victor in Versailles. Obviously, when you're in France, you go out to eat Italian food. And yay for the fact that we did. The pizza was sooo good! I'm used to random toppings on pizza from Japan, but France brought a first, pizza with egg on it!:
Lastly, the other night Kelly and I met up with Jenny, her friend Lynia (who is really awesome) and a girl from my program Caitlin, also very cool. We hung out at what was probably the most extravagant star bucks EVER. It looked like a mini cathedral, with art on the ceilings and extravagant chandeliers. After that Caitlin took off and the rest of us went to dinner. While we had all agreed on "something cheap" we somehow ended up at a super trendy place that looked like a freaking night club. I felt a little sex and the city. Anyways, I can't remember the name of the restaurant, but I def. plan on going back to it. The food was super delicious!
And finally a compliant! The food here is amazing, but would it kill them to just give us a freaking pitcher of water. Since I got here, I'm ALWAYS dehydrated. At restaurants they give you these tiny ass carafe's of water, and by the time 3 people pour themselves some, it's over and then you have to wait 20 minutes for another carafe. I know it seems silly to gripe about, but it's REALLY irritating. lol. Not to mention the word carafe d'eau (a crafe of water) is really hard for me to say in French, so that's always a good time. I actually had a Turkish server (in good fun) make fun of me as i stumbled all over myself asking for a glass of water. Yay for adventure.
How is anyone expected to stay thin in Paris, when La Dure exists?? Honestly! I've discovered and become obsessed with macaroons. They are so amazing and the ones at La Duree are exceptionally delicious.
Not to mention the pastries and cakes that are in all the little bakeries at every corner. Yesterday, after starving for the whole day because we're stupid, kelly and I finally walked to the local market in Noisy. There we bought a baguette and a wheel of amazing cheese, which we totally inhaled on the street corner, like some urchins. Anyways, after that I ate my first French eclair! sooo amazing. <3
A few nights ago we went out to dinner with Victor in Versailles. Obviously, when you're in France, you go out to eat Italian food. And yay for the fact that we did. The pizza was sooo good! I'm used to random toppings on pizza from Japan, but France brought a first, pizza with egg on it!:
Lastly, the other night Kelly and I met up with Jenny, her friend Lynia (who is really awesome) and a girl from my program Caitlin, also very cool. We hung out at what was probably the most extravagant star bucks EVER. It looked like a mini cathedral, with art on the ceilings and extravagant chandeliers. After that Caitlin took off and the rest of us went to dinner. While we had all agreed on "something cheap" we somehow ended up at a super trendy place that looked like a freaking night club. I felt a little sex and the city. Anyways, I can't remember the name of the restaurant, but I def. plan on going back to it. The food was super delicious!
And finally a compliant! The food here is amazing, but would it kill them to just give us a freaking pitcher of water. Since I got here, I'm ALWAYS dehydrated. At restaurants they give you these tiny ass carafe's of water, and by the time 3 people pour themselves some, it's over and then you have to wait 20 minutes for another carafe. I know it seems silly to gripe about, but it's REALLY irritating. lol. Not to mention the word carafe d'eau (a crafe of water) is really hard for me to say in French, so that's always a good time. I actually had a Turkish server (in good fun) make fun of me as i stumbled all over myself asking for a glass of water. Yay for adventure.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Searching for housing in Paris is like getting dumped ten times a day.
So here it is. The ball of stress I've been dancing around. Victor is amazing, but we can't really live at his place. This was a temporary thing and as amazing as it was, we haven't found anywhere to live. As it turns out, housing is impossible to find in Paris. Ya there are those lucky few that "know someone", but shit... if you don't know anyone then life is rough on you. Every day ten times a day I get turned down. I'm starting to have anxiety about the whole thing. It's like random strangers telling me I can't live in their hole of a studio has become some extension of all my fears of rejection. In short, IT BLOWS. Kelly, god bless her, turns into a random spastic stress ball at any given moment. Which while funny when it's over, kinda sucks when it's happening. Anyways, at this point I keep having to tell myself to be positive and honestly, it's hard to be negative for too long when I look around me and see all the awesome architecture, feel the great weather and just take in this new place I'm in.
Crazy at the Metro:
On another note, tonight we had dinner with some friends in the city, right next to the Opéra de Paris. It was a totally warm and perfect night. We went to this really delicious restaurant and had amazing food, pic. to come. i promise. Anyways, after that Kelly and I had to head back to Noisy Le Roi. Let's rewind to the dinner conversation:
our french friend Jenny: we should wrap this up, it's getting late and it's dangerous on the trains late at night.
kelly (cocky mc' cockster): nah, we're fine, I've been walking around WAY later at night before.
Jenny: ummm....ok.
Alright, now we're back to heading back to Noisy Le Roi. So we're sitting on the SNCF (a train for longer journeys) when we both hear some loud noises. I slowly look back, because come on, everyone loves a good show. Anyways, so I look back and pretty much see this huge black guy arguing with this poor old man sitting on the seat, with headphones on. Now when I say arguing, what I mean is this huge ass guy is screaming at this other man. It starts out with just a loud rant, but he breaks into a full on scream fest and tops it off by punching the poor old guy in the face. At this point other people get involved trying to stop the big guy, who is at this point screaming at the top of his lungs, saying shit like: THIS IS FRANCE! THIS IS THE REAL FRANCE! HE NEEDS TO HEAR THIS! YOU ALL NEED TO HEAR THIS! pretty much prowling back and forth in our cart SCREAMING at people. I pretty much sat there, trying my hardest not to make eye contact with him. I was convinced if I made eye contact, he would come over and start yelling, and then find out I am not french and then probably just attack me... or something to that affect. Anyways, when the train stopped, we ran off the train and switched carts, as did a lot of other people. It was pretty scary, and while the, "he might snap if he found out I wasn't French" is partly a joke, it's fairly real as well. I'm not aware of the depths of that sentiment, as I have received a lot of kindness in France, but all the same I keep seeing stickers on English adds that read "en francias s'il vous plait", which pretty much means: In French Please. Anyways, it's 12:30, I'm on benadryl and the room is getting woozy... so it's good night from Noisy!
Crazy at the Metro:
On another note, tonight we had dinner with some friends in the city, right next to the Opéra de Paris. It was a totally warm and perfect night. We went to this really delicious restaurant and had amazing food, pic. to come. i promise. Anyways, after that Kelly and I had to head back to Noisy Le Roi. Let's rewind to the dinner conversation:
our french friend Jenny: we should wrap this up, it's getting late and it's dangerous on the trains late at night.
kelly (cocky mc' cockster): nah, we're fine, I've been walking around WAY later at night before.
Jenny: ummm....ok.
Alright, now we're back to heading back to Noisy Le Roi. So we're sitting on the SNCF (a train for longer journeys) when we both hear some loud noises. I slowly look back, because come on, everyone loves a good show. Anyways, so I look back and pretty much see this huge black guy arguing with this poor old man sitting on the seat, with headphones on. Now when I say arguing, what I mean is this huge ass guy is screaming at this other man. It starts out with just a loud rant, but he breaks into a full on scream fest and tops it off by punching the poor old guy in the face. At this point other people get involved trying to stop the big guy, who is at this point screaming at the top of his lungs, saying shit like: THIS IS FRANCE! THIS IS THE REAL FRANCE! HE NEEDS TO HEAR THIS! YOU ALL NEED TO HEAR THIS! pretty much prowling back and forth in our cart SCREAMING at people. I pretty much sat there, trying my hardest not to make eye contact with him. I was convinced if I made eye contact, he would come over and start yelling, and then find out I am not french and then probably just attack me... or something to that affect. Anyways, when the train stopped, we ran off the train and switched carts, as did a lot of other people. It was pretty scary, and while the, "he might snap if he found out I wasn't French" is partly a joke, it's fairly real as well. I'm not aware of the depths of that sentiment, as I have received a lot of kindness in France, but all the same I keep seeing stickers on English adds that read "en francias s'il vous plait", which pretty much means: In French Please. Anyways, it's 12:30, I'm on benadryl and the room is getting woozy... so it's good night from Noisy!
Monday, September 20, 2010
A new chapter - the final post
Day 5:
Tour de Versailles; A Feat! (and we’re caught up to today, the day I’m writing this all out. I feel like If I didn’t do it soon, the beginning would get drowned out in a sea of experiences or just forgotten due to dead brain cells. Yay wine!):
I woke up rested and full of gratitude. A little ashamed of how being exhausted had made me so ungracious the night before; Victor apologized for taking me out when I was so tired, which only made me feel worse. It’s amazing how kind everyone is of my childishness. I may not say it often, but I know it and am really grateful for it. Today just brought more in life to be grateful for. We had breakfast with Victor’s family and then Kelly and I spent the next few hours, showering, being on skype, talking to family members, writing emails etc. Come afternoon, Victor came and got us. I went downstairs to find a table laid out in the backyard. I walked into, what appear to be, my first of many multi course French meals. Victor’s family has gone above and beyond, and while they swear it isn't for us, I know they are being incredibly kind. We started out with cantaloupe, followed by duck which his mom prepared with a side of vegetables, followed by different types of cheeses and his dad’s homemade bread with a bottle of wine, followed by glazed pears with ice cream and it was all topped off with REALLY good coffee. (first time in my life to drink coffee without sugar or milk). Anyways, we sat in the sun and talked for a few hours and then in fit French fashion decided to go for a bike ride. Clemont joined us, and as it turns out, we biked all the way to The Palace of Versailles (13 miles). It was beyond amazing. The biking was a bit hard, as I am a “non athletic American” were Victor’s words, I believe. He also went on to tell me that he wanted to marry an American Girl, but Kelly and I were making him change his mind, because we were biking so slow on the way back. Regardless, the scenery was beautiful, the company amazing and the palace spectacular. I really feel like I’m going to run out of positive adjectives. I guess that’s when I’ll start talking about the stress that is finding housing. But for now, we’re staying on the positive. We came back around 6, took a small break. Victor helped his dad chop wood for the winter season, which will be here in no time, and Kelly and I, like lazy Americans relaxed online. At 8:00 we were expected Chez Charlie et Claire. Charlie and Claire are engaged and incredibly cute. Claire made us Fajita’s and Charlie loves to have long discussions so, we were in for a good night. Also, Charlie is the hottest guy I’ve seen in France so far (minus a guy who sat next to me on the RER for 5 minutes and was talking to me until the freaking train got canceled. Totally my luck). That guy aside, Charlie is incredibly handsome, which I was telling Victor in private, but obviously Victor being a total jackass told Charlie and Claire. Queue embarrassment.
The fajitas were delicious and the salsa was surprisingly good. Of course fajitas were preceded by wine and appetizers and followed by dessert and coffee. I guess I’ll just get used to the greatness that is France. We talked about all types of really interesting things and Kelly and Victor both said they were impressed by my French tonight, which means a lot to me, since I’m truly aware of how bad it is. We got home around midnight, and Victor had to head to bed because he has work tomorrow. Kelly went to sleep as well, but I was not able to sleep. I really wanted to keep a blog of this trip, and even though it’s only been 5 days since I’ve arrived in France, I’ve been feeling like IT’S BEEN 5 DAYS SINCE I’VE BEEN HERE AND I HAVEN’T STARTED MY BLOG!”. So I’m really just glad to have typed this out. Hopefully I can do it a day at a time or an entry a week or something, instead of 5 days worth of information in one sitting. So… bare with me, and if you made it down here….well shit.. thanks for reading!
Day 4:
A Private Tour:
We woke up, let me correct myself, I woke up at 8:30: hung over but eager to get yet another beautiful day started in Paris! To my dismay, Kelly, Victor and Clemont remained passed out till 10:00. I guess that’s just the problem when you’re the new kid in town. I tried just going for a walk by myself, but I didn’t have the key, so I could only pace around the courtyard of Clemont’s studio complex. And honestly, that was fine for me, because even that was really beautiful. Kelly and Victor laugh at me because I’m always jumping around gasping, but honestly, it’s so new to me. Everything here is new and amazing to me. It’s not like East Asia or South Asia or North America, and that’s all I know. It’s wonderful to be in a place so foreign. And sometimes, in a weird way, I love not speaking French. It feels so amazing to be lost in noise. I make up conversations and just let sound and noise vibrate in my head. It’s really great. Anyways, around 10, I lost patience and opened the only window in the studio and pretty much burned them all into being away with the bright sun. Clemont’s apartment is amazing, because you can see the Sacre coure from it. This is the view:
I tell them this every day, but these bastards are spoiled!. (side note: the milk here doesn’t spoil for months…I’m talking, the milk in Victor’s fridge doesn’t expire till late November, wtf is that?). Anyways, back to Clemont, the view from his apartment is beyond amazing. So we finally get up and head out, and yet another reason why I can’t be lucky enough. Clemont and Victor take me and Kelly on a personal tour of Paris, so we pretty much drive through the entire city and see all the “tourist” spots. They laugh at me the whole time, because I’m a total American tourist who can’t put her Camera down, but all the same, they take me to all the places that everyone wants to see in Paris.
I hope to go to them all one by one, and really see them in due time, but for now, I can’t complain about getting a private tour of Paris while singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack on the top of our lungs (Kelly’s pick, but it’s my guilty pleasure as well). Upon getting back into Noisy Le Roi, Victor made us lunch, and it ended up being the most unusual of treats, though it did not seem so at first. He made hot dogs with mashed potatoes and apple sauce and ofcourse there was the bread that his dad bakes EVERY night, with butter. Clemont brought over beef balls and though it may not sound like much, it was pretty great saying beef balls in French for about 20 minutes. Lol. This was followed by Clemont playing the piano for us and making goofy parodies of American things/songs and then we sat in the sun for a while. Later in the night Victor, Kelly and I went to eat dinner in Versailles and then to a bar to meet some of his friends (this is where I had my first pang of ungratefulness). We ate dinner at an amazing pizza place and I got the pizza Vieneto: Ham, artichokes, chorizo and egg . Yes, egg. lol, and it was good.
Still Day 4:
An interesting conversation:
At dinner Victor and I had a really interesting conversation about language and what it says about the culture it belongs to. He’s been observing (and this is something that I’ve been aware of as well, so it was cool to hear him speak about it) how loosely we Americans use our words. Specifically “love”. He was saying how it’s strange for him to hear American’s say things like: I love this pizza, I love your shirt, I love your eyes, I love your hair, I love this song, I love this movie, I love that car, I love paris, I love music and so on and so forth. Kelly was really defending this usage of love, which I thought was funny and cute, since she uses love ALL the time and even right after we got done talking about it, she proceeded to say “god, I love Europe”. Anyways, Victor’s point was that using love so loosely takes away a sense of sacredness from the word. And that while you may REALLY like a lot of things, it’s a little…strange to be saying you love everything and everyone you like, because…..well love ought to be something a little more. While I was trying my best to play devil’s advocate in Frenglish this conversation helped me realize something interesting, in Hindi there is NO word for loving objects. You simply can’t say it. You can say you really like something, that something is great and that you prefer it, but you cannot use the word love for it without also insinuating that it is something sacred and truly special to you. Victor seemed to say that French had a similar feel, though you can say it in French, there is a certain sensibility to you. Anyways, it was really interesting. However, after that we ended up going to a bar to meet Victor’s friends, and that’s when for the first time I was a little miserable. I think it was because I was sooo tired (hung over and up since 8:30), I could barely walk. I think I feel asleep at the bar and pretty much didn’t talk to anyone and had a mini sleep deprived melt down of: “oh god, I just want to go be alone somewhere and shake myself to sleep”. We finally got home, I think I passed out in the car, but I woke up in my bed and then it was the next morning. I was in France, the sun was out, the trees were beautiful, I could smell fresh bread and life was amazing.
Tour de Versailles; A Feat! (and we’re caught up to today, the day I’m writing this all out. I feel like If I didn’t do it soon, the beginning would get drowned out in a sea of experiences or just forgotten due to dead brain cells. Yay wine!):
I woke up rested and full of gratitude. A little ashamed of how being exhausted had made me so ungracious the night before; Victor apologized for taking me out when I was so tired, which only made me feel worse. It’s amazing how kind everyone is of my childishness. I may not say it often, but I know it and am really grateful for it. Today just brought more in life to be grateful for. We had breakfast with Victor’s family and then Kelly and I spent the next few hours, showering, being on skype, talking to family members, writing emails etc. Come afternoon, Victor came and got us. I went downstairs to find a table laid out in the backyard. I walked into, what appear to be, my first of many multi course French meals. Victor’s family has gone above and beyond, and while they swear it isn't for us, I know they are being incredibly kind. We started out with cantaloupe, followed by duck which his mom prepared with a side of vegetables, followed by different types of cheeses and his dad’s homemade bread with a bottle of wine, followed by glazed pears with ice cream and it was all topped off with REALLY good coffee. (first time in my life to drink coffee without sugar or milk). Anyways, we sat in the sun and talked for a few hours and then in fit French fashion decided to go for a bike ride. Clemont joined us, and as it turns out, we biked all the way to The Palace of Versailles (13 miles). It was beyond amazing. The biking was a bit hard, as I am a “non athletic American” were Victor’s words, I believe. He also went on to tell me that he wanted to marry an American Girl, but Kelly and I were making him change his mind, because we were biking so slow on the way back. Regardless, the scenery was beautiful, the company amazing and the palace spectacular. I really feel like I’m going to run out of positive adjectives. I guess that’s when I’ll start talking about the stress that is finding housing. But for now, we’re staying on the positive. We came back around 6, took a small break. Victor helped his dad chop wood for the winter season, which will be here in no time, and Kelly and I, like lazy Americans relaxed online. At 8:00 we were expected Chez Charlie et Claire. Charlie and Claire are engaged and incredibly cute. Claire made us Fajita’s and Charlie loves to have long discussions so, we were in for a good night. Also, Charlie is the hottest guy I’ve seen in France so far (minus a guy who sat next to me on the RER for 5 minutes and was talking to me until the freaking train got canceled. Totally my luck). That guy aside, Charlie is incredibly handsome, which I was telling Victor in private, but obviously Victor being a total jackass told Charlie and Claire. Queue embarrassment.
The fajitas were delicious and the salsa was surprisingly good. Of course fajitas were preceded by wine and appetizers and followed by dessert and coffee. I guess I’ll just get used to the greatness that is France. We talked about all types of really interesting things and Kelly and Victor both said they were impressed by my French tonight, which means a lot to me, since I’m truly aware of how bad it is. We got home around midnight, and Victor had to head to bed because he has work tomorrow. Kelly went to sleep as well, but I was not able to sleep. I really wanted to keep a blog of this trip, and even though it’s only been 5 days since I’ve arrived in France, I’ve been feeling like IT’S BEEN 5 DAYS SINCE I’VE BEEN HERE AND I HAVEN’T STARTED MY BLOG!”. So I’m really just glad to have typed this out. Hopefully I can do it a day at a time or an entry a week or something, instead of 5 days worth of information in one sitting. So… bare with me, and if you made it down here….well shit.. thanks for reading!
Day 4:
A Private Tour:
We woke up, let me correct myself, I woke up at 8:30: hung over but eager to get yet another beautiful day started in Paris! To my dismay, Kelly, Victor and Clemont remained passed out till 10:00. I guess that’s just the problem when you’re the new kid in town. I tried just going for a walk by myself, but I didn’t have the key, so I could only pace around the courtyard of Clemont’s studio complex. And honestly, that was fine for me, because even that was really beautiful. Kelly and Victor laugh at me because I’m always jumping around gasping, but honestly, it’s so new to me. Everything here is new and amazing to me. It’s not like East Asia or South Asia or North America, and that’s all I know. It’s wonderful to be in a place so foreign. And sometimes, in a weird way, I love not speaking French. It feels so amazing to be lost in noise. I make up conversations and just let sound and noise vibrate in my head. It’s really great. Anyways, around 10, I lost patience and opened the only window in the studio and pretty much burned them all into being away with the bright sun. Clemont’s apartment is amazing, because you can see the Sacre coure from it. This is the view:
I tell them this every day, but these bastards are spoiled!. (side note: the milk here doesn’t spoil for months…I’m talking, the milk in Victor’s fridge doesn’t expire till late November, wtf is that?). Anyways, back to Clemont, the view from his apartment is beyond amazing. So we finally get up and head out, and yet another reason why I can’t be lucky enough. Clemont and Victor take me and Kelly on a personal tour of Paris, so we pretty much drive through the entire city and see all the “tourist” spots. They laugh at me the whole time, because I’m a total American tourist who can’t put her Camera down, but all the same, they take me to all the places that everyone wants to see in Paris.
I hope to go to them all one by one, and really see them in due time, but for now, I can’t complain about getting a private tour of Paris while singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack on the top of our lungs (Kelly’s pick, but it’s my guilty pleasure as well). Upon getting back into Noisy Le Roi, Victor made us lunch, and it ended up being the most unusual of treats, though it did not seem so at first. He made hot dogs with mashed potatoes and apple sauce and ofcourse there was the bread that his dad bakes EVERY night, with butter. Clemont brought over beef balls and though it may not sound like much, it was pretty great saying beef balls in French for about 20 minutes. Lol. This was followed by Clemont playing the piano for us and making goofy parodies of American things/songs and then we sat in the sun for a while. Later in the night Victor, Kelly and I went to eat dinner in Versailles and then to a bar to meet some of his friends (this is where I had my first pang of ungratefulness). We ate dinner at an amazing pizza place and I got the pizza Vieneto: Ham, artichokes, chorizo and egg . Yes, egg. lol, and it was good.
Still Day 4:
An interesting conversation:
At dinner Victor and I had a really interesting conversation about language and what it says about the culture it belongs to. He’s been observing (and this is something that I’ve been aware of as well, so it was cool to hear him speak about it) how loosely we Americans use our words. Specifically “love”. He was saying how it’s strange for him to hear American’s say things like: I love this pizza, I love your shirt, I love your eyes, I love your hair, I love this song, I love this movie, I love that car, I love paris, I love music and so on and so forth. Kelly was really defending this usage of love, which I thought was funny and cute, since she uses love ALL the time and even right after we got done talking about it, she proceeded to say “god, I love Europe”. Anyways, Victor’s point was that using love so loosely takes away a sense of sacredness from the word. And that while you may REALLY like a lot of things, it’s a little…strange to be saying you love everything and everyone you like, because…..well love ought to be something a little more. While I was trying my best to play devil’s advocate in Frenglish this conversation helped me realize something interesting, in Hindi there is NO word for loving objects. You simply can’t say it. You can say you really like something, that something is great and that you prefer it, but you cannot use the word love for it without also insinuating that it is something sacred and truly special to you. Victor seemed to say that French had a similar feel, though you can say it in French, there is a certain sensibility to you. Anyways, it was really interesting. However, after that we ended up going to a bar to meet Victor’s friends, and that’s when for the first time I was a little miserable. I think it was because I was sooo tired (hung over and up since 8:30), I could barely walk. I think I feel asleep at the bar and pretty much didn’t talk to anyone and had a mini sleep deprived melt down of: “oh god, I just want to go be alone somewhere and shake myself to sleep”. We finally got home, I think I passed out in the car, but I woke up in my bed and then it was the next morning. I was in France, the sun was out, the trees were beautiful, I could smell fresh bread and life was amazing.
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