nous sommes tous hors de NORMAL

ive got nothing left in me. so this blog has come to an end. thank you faithful readers. much love

Posted in: on Monday, July 28, 2008 at at 12:44 PM 1 comments

Ok last night marked my maybe 12th giant spider dream in the past year. I see the spiders in this mid-deep dreaming sleep state. I'm alarmed as the spider is so close to me that I am woken up. but in this arousal of regaining conciousness, I open my eyes and still see this spider. Thus I am so scared by its proximity that I LITERALLY leap from the bed and rush to turn on all the lights. So last night, after just maybe two hours of falling asleep I was up and searching through my bed for this beast!

I have done all the dream dictionary hoopla and its mostly contradictory and stupid

from http://www.experiencefestival.com/: To dream of a spider, denotes that you will be careful and energetic in your labors, and fortune will be amassed to pleasing proportions.

from http://www.dreamdoctor.com/: Spiders frequently symbolize “creepy people” who would like to “trap us in their webs.” Is someone “bugging” you?

from http://www.soulfuture.com/: A spider may symbolize the number 8

http://www.dreamingminds.8m.com/: Spiders-Signify good luck.

and it goes on and on. Good luck, bad luck, creeps, 8 (8 what? 8 macaroni noodles that fall from my strainer in the sink), fortune, wishes coming true. I'm just sayin maybe all that is true but it doesnt stop them coming back to me in my dreams and freaking me out!

Especially when alone.

So if anyone has any ideas on why these spiders are so interested in my sleep then please indulge me. I'm so flippin sick of them honestly. Its time for them to leave. Or at least for my good fortune to arrive. :)

Posted in: on Friday, July 11, 2008 at at 1:29 AM 0 comments

will you
walk along the beach with me
far enough in the water that your clothes get wet
and not care at all
will you
lead me up an unknown path
get a secret thrill that you don't know where it goes
then veer off to another one
hold my hand tightly in excitement
will you
lay in bed with me at nite and read to me from whatever book you are reading
will you
force me to do things your way when you absolutely need to
will you
tell me anything you want and not be afraid
will you
let me think that i have superpowers
where are you
who are you
will you
need me as much as i need you

Posted in: on Thursday, July 10, 2008 at at 2:56 PM 0 comments

I GREW UP on the ocean. So what I cannot figure out is how I mistook seagulls for chickens last night while wandering through the streets of Porto. They talk differently here. There was no alcohol involved. I think I just imagined that live poultry would rule this town and chickens would hide in little streets with little guns like mafia chickens. THIS TOWN is a chicken hiding town.

The city is near perfect. and from the looks of it, the terrain here INCLUDES a town. But not the reverse. The mountains and the river simply refused to conform for the people so the people just made do with what they had. There are bridges nearly traversing through apartments and churches which wrap around the side of the mountain squeezing through little streets and right by living room windows. I have NO idea how they managed to build an underground metro station (and I'd be afraid to go in it). The portugese I've met tell me this area and most of Portugal suffers from earthquakes. Not exactly my favorite natural disaster. In fact, its at the bottom of the natural disaster favorites list. The VERY bottom. So I'll be damned if I step foot into that metro. Even cross the bridge by foot (which I did twice last night) I find less death defying. Cause I can swim but maybe not with 10 tons of iron falling on me.

where was i? oh. Well my coworker mentioned that in most of the little european towns he went to which had a seaside (or riverside) that the bars RIGHT on the seaside would be too touristy so for a touch of authenticity, he took us back a few streets off the main one in search of a "local" bar. We found at least three local bars but didnt dare enter as they were clearly too local. They seemed more like someones backyard and the family was outside playing and hanging out. We felt like we would crash a family outing or something. So we kept walking. Ultimately we ended up right back on that main drag at a bar called "Sandeman" for some porto. I recognized the label and the name immediately. Truth is, I liked the Porto from the hotel bar much better. We were all still anxious to see the town and so we walked. We walked and I took enough pictures to drain my battery down to one bar. I hope I have enough for the ocean which we will hopefully see on thursday.



At this one moment when we had reached a high point in the town (the place of the first photo) we all stopped and looked back at the river. No one said a word which I missed so much. Last week my cousin from the states remarked about this woman and her daughter, clearly tourists, on the Paris metro with her and neither of them spoke a word for about 7 metro stops. She couldnt believe that they had nothing to say to eachother for that long. I couldnt help but laugh and think it was because silence must make my cousin extremely uncomfortable. It made perfect sense to me that one could be in a foreign country and at times just need to not speak and simply listen or even drift off into your own thoughts. I think thats why they were nervous each time I was silent and always wondered what was wrong with me. But I felt again this comfort in silence when me and the french coworkers just stood there without words and enjoyed the view.

On a side note, there were about 20 minutes last week when my chatty cousin was reading a magazine and like a good junkie I was having withdrawl from her ramblings and asked her to immediately put down the magazine and commence with chatter! She was happy to feed my fix...

Once we reached the town center it was nearly midnight and the city had shut down. It was so quiet except for the chickens so we headed back.

Posted in: on Wednesday, July 9, 2008 at at 2:51 AM 0 comments

what'd ya think this is fun for me? all this sitting around Not blogging. you think i ENJOY all these thoughts piling up with no where to go. well its not fun and its especially not fun when your own two cousins point it out to me last night after dinner.

we went for argentinian steak. just steps from my apartment but we stepped right into food that should be served on death row. its seriously beyond good. but im seriously beyond stuffed. these cousins have been feeding me nonstop since they arrived.

they are quite loud actually, i dont want to say its cause their american but i think it is. so naturally the entire restaurant (and everyone walking by) heard our conversation which went from one cousins new bathing suit to me questioning why my other cousin is always so in need of guidance in every aspect of her life (even getting dressed). i dont think she trusts herself. but so this german fashion photographer comes up to us and starts talking to my cousin and i was listening and enjoying the conversation but i was also drifting into my own thoughts and believe me, my cousin needs NO support when it comes to conversation taking giving, the whole deal so there were times when i faced my plate and just listened. And drifted to my own thoughts and listened and there were even times when i spoke to him about how much i like photography but later

when we got home, BOTH my cousins nearly attacked me with sorries cause they "thought" by the look on my face and perhaps even my body language that i was MISERABLE while that guy came over to talk and they thought i was then even MAD at them. And i had NO CLUE
a. that they thought this
b. that they noticed me
c. that i looked so upset
d. that they thought i was MAD!

it was shocking on so many levels to even hear them say this to me. cause even though i WAS in my own thoughts at times, i was NEVER upset or mad. but apparently my face is completely disconnected from my thoughts. or maybe its not.
i dont get it. i cannot hide anything. there is no superficial me.
i dont even know HOW to be superficial. maybe i do, and maybe this is why i dislike sales people so much.

but i dont hate sales people as much as i hate recyclers. and not just ANY recyclers, i mean the ones who recycle in my courtyard and play this game of who can smash the hell out of the wine bottles before putting them in the recycling bin. Who can then dump the can out onto the ground just to prove that all the glass was smashed into bits, then who can sweep up the glass and throw it back in the can as loudly as possible. i have tried to explain to my cousins the many layers of hate that i have for these people and how i feel that i will never be able to truly enjoy recycling again as long as i live due to the bastard recyclers of my paris courtyard.


ah yes. so in conclusion. please dont read my face cause its probably wrong but i will give you my honest stream of thoughts if you ask me and if you dont want to talk then i'll just give you some xray vision and you can watch all the thoughts mingle in my brain and see which ones slide down to my heart. maybe they are even sliding for you.

Posted in: on Sunday, July 6, 2008 at at 3:46 AM 1 comments

i mean what i say
and i most certainly
say what i mean

Posted in: on Saturday, June 28, 2008 at at 3:34 PM 0 comments

Well all the most important people called.
Thankfully none of them knew i was naked all day
i just didnt feel like wearing clothes.
i did wear a skirt and top to the grocery to buy detergent
but france makes you sweat and i was sick of sweating
so i closed the curtains, secured the bedroom windows
and wore my birthday suit which is only fitting since today is
my birthday
my mom told me she met and fell in love with my step dad when she was my age now
she said i shouldn't feel alone
that things have a way of working out

Posted in: on at at 6:37 AM 0 comments

i was hoping to have something good to say but all I feel is emptyness.
the things i miss:
ice coffee
my coworkers
love
turkey burgers
my path
the use of my left knee
a good nites sleep
smiling like i mean it
the ocean

Posted in: on at at 12:27 AM 0 comments

There is this one element to life which I feel my parents left out of their "teachings" which is that life just doesnt work out the way you want. Things you wish to happen, people reacting the way you want, words spoken just as you want them to be spoken, it just isnt the way life really works. I have to remind myself of this. today mostly, i had to remind myself of this. I feel like I need to keep reminding myself of this.

I feel like im living in a dream world. im wishing certain words to be spoken and i have to remind myself daily that life isn't this way. the things i want and need are just not happening. i want so badly to live in this dream but its not right.
im just wondering when life will work out the way i want it. when will i "get right"

life can be so tiring. so heartbreaking but its life. its not about what wine you choose, its about whether you jump in the seine or you are pushed in the seine. god dammit. life is so real sometimes.

Posted in: on Wednesday, June 25, 2008 at at 1:57 PM 2 comments

im pretty sure the pre-dinner festivities tonight was the pigeon sex that just occurred on my balcony. two pigeons landed, first they made out a bit, seemed like they were pecking hard like they were fighting but who am i to tell a pigeon how to kiss. then one jumped on the other, moved down a bit to "position" his/her self i suppose and then there was all kinds of rapid wing flapping and then the top one stretched up real tall, then they flew away. they didnt even care that i was watching. then they flew back and tried again. the 2nd time they were not successful.

and now that they are gone, its dinner time.
nothing tastes good anymore
not even sweets.
i have this vague memory of real food.
which im sure is sold at groceries
i can always begin to make a list
but as soon as im finished with milk and bread my mind wanders into all the recipes of food that i want to make and then hours have passed by and nothing was accomplished.
not even the bread or the milk.
in the states, i loved grocery stores. i would wander for hours up and down the aisles. i loved the aisle with all the laundry detergent. all these colors lined up in a row. each one filled with clean and pretty. i like boxes of clean and pretty.
maybe the monoprix isnt so bad. but the lines of people just kill me. i like to look at what other people get. i imagine their dinners, their lives at home. i try to figure out their dinner from the things they buy. but the french cuisine takes a much bigger imagination for me to conjure up the dinners of strangers. in fact, all it does is make me upset.

i know why it upsets me but i just dont feel like explaining.

Posted in: on Sunday, June 22, 2008 at at 10:02 AM 0 comments

ME: excuse me sir, do you know where the closest comic strip is?
Sir: yes, across the street next to that gorilla thats being pulled on his back by the four mockingbirds.
ME: is this the same gorilla that was seen being pulled from the back of Arby's last week?
Sir: no, thats a different gorilla, this is the one who insisted on a triple double venti at a starbucks in italy and was immediately deported.
ME: do they really have starbucks in italy?
Sir: no wait, theres a better comic strip in that building over there with the my shirona sign on the front.
ME: yeah but theres no gorilla over there.
Sir: just try it, its funny.
ME: i'll try it but theres no gorillas
Sir: good for you honey
ME: oh look, theres a honey bee, bye

Posted in: on at at 3:54 AM 0 comments

in america that i can even imagine would allow people to play music anywhere and all day and nite. where people can roam the streets with bottles of wine, beer, and all things alcohol just wandering around from street to street listening to music. the parisian artisans truely figured out how to create pockets of sound so that each musician can be enjoyed without musical overflow from the previous (or next) artist.

this, my friends is Paris's Fete de la Musique

where music is everywhere and anywhere and live or recorded or acoustic or acapella and all of everyone is out to enjoy every bit of it.

even me! and i cracked a smile while watching the frenchies attempt the macarena. the singer was hilarious. he had no idea what the words were so he just made sounds. there was a chorus and some french singer who had a HUGE following, there were dj's playing out of their apartment windows in the marais. There were little girls with their guitars, ladies from the 80's
everybody was movin
we sat by the seine with our wine and crackers and talked with the iranians who were struggling artists kicked out of their country. they spoke of their photography, which had to be approved by the government before it could be shown. they denied a picture of a women in her wedding dress riding the city bus. just last year a woman was allowed to sing in public but only with two men.

if you can cover up, toss away your alcohol and get over the stumps, apparently the country is worth the trip. i was told of large homes and verandas and countryside which bring a sparkle to your eye and make you forget where you are from.

we talked camera's and cobblestones and calculated cravings
we talked new and old
i was away from my home
i could feel some strength
i forgot about my heart for a while
thanks to the music

my head needs rest now
goodnite to you

Posted in: on Saturday, June 21, 2008 at at 4:45 PM 1 comments

http://www.atomfilms.com:80/film/rabbit.jsp

Posted in: on Friday, June 20, 2008 at at 11:29 AM 1 comments

current song: creep

i often wonder what would happen to my life if i never came home. if i got off at one of these train stops outside of paris and before reaching my house. i wonder if i could just walk into some other office where i fit in and start over.

i watered the plants tonight and i dont give a god damn if they get mad below at the japanese restaurant. I hope it falls in their food. today i hated the air conditioner man. he told my boss it was fixed earlier this week in email, it woudlnt even turn on. i had this sick feeling that he was home on his barca lounger sipping champagne in his well cooled living room laughing hysterically at the cruel trick he played on us. leading us to believe there would be cool in our office and lying like a big ugly dog with scattered patches of hair and bad breath. i hope his bread is stale for the rest of his life.

i imagine the email went like this:

dear
case 45X332k closed.
-air conditioner office

we both smiled so big when she got that email. we shared this moment and it was nice.

and now i wish this bastard was dead.

and now i must prepare for the end of the storm. i think the clouds are finally moving away.

Posted in: on at at 10:59 AM 0 comments

I want so badly to be able to explain the most important things to you. i want you to know i agree with you. you see so far through me. yes its true that love is here on this earth and sorry is not. Sorry is for outer space. Sorry cant reach me. it cannot find a place in me. i want to remain in love. that is as honest as i can be. its a damn shame sometimes to live here so far away from the people i need the most. i wont believe that im this sad. here come the questions

why is everything so confusing all the time?
why do these people hate me so much?
why can't i make my own dinner?
why is all the milk expired?
why are my thoughts so hard to hold on to?
where is this one?
dont make me promises you cannot keep. dont lay in my bed if you cannot see me.
you will stand up, and march toward a feeling you are afraid of having
and i will explain nothing. this is what it is.
thats it.

Posted in: on at at 6:43 AM 0 comments

there were two main thoughts during my flight to Rome. yes, Italy (talk about rerouting)

there’s only one place I love more than the ocean and that is above the clouds. I like the idea of being above the weather. and its not like I need to be in space, just right above the clouds is high enough for me. right within the first atmosphere is perfect. but I love to have the sun for a bit more time than usual. I love the endless horizon (hmmm, just like on the ocean) and seeing as far as I can see. and as we flew into Rome I was thinking about Tokyo---a place I have never been. but I wonder if the people who live in those giant skyscrapers get to wake up each morning also above the clouds and therefore feel this rush of life each and every day. I wonder if they are forced to check the weather on TV and see if its actually raining cause they are living so high up.

that was, well one thought.

a more minor thought was that flying on air Italia is like going over to your friend’s house and hanging out in their living room. and I love how they cart down the aisle saying simply "salt or sweet" and you just pick. you have no idea what they will give you other than its flavor. turns out my flight attendant didn’t hear me or didn’t understand the word sweet because he gave me a cheese filled sandwich, which is no good for someone allergic to cheese.

when I get nervous/anxious or when something is bothering me in life, I tend to NEED this pressure on the bottom of my feet right in the middle of the arch. I will actually seek out places to stand or press my feet against so that I can get this satisfying feeling. Stairs are great in these situations cause they have corners and I can stand right on the corner. of course, being barefoot would provide the most amount of satisfaction but even sneakers will do.
sometimes I get this feeling at work and I take my shoes off and turn them so the side of the shoe can press against my arch. sometimes when I have nothing to press my feet to, I use one foot under the other and keep switching so each arch gets the proper amount. im not sure why I do this or NEED to do this but I just do. but then on the plane I found myself in this emergency exit row with enough space before me to play soccer and thus nothing to press my feet against. so I thought about how to start trying to do new things. like patience and letting my feet not touch anything and just wondered what would happen. and well what I realized later was that I forgot about my feet (for a while) and was concentrated more on the mad rush I had to make in Italy to catch my next flight, literally racing across the ENTIRE airport only to find out the gate, of course, changed (again) and the crew hadn't even arrived and it would be nearly 3am before my head would hit my pillow that nite--if at all.

I want to send a special note to one of my most faithful readers who poured out her life to me in the middle of grand central station today. im so proud of you. it showed a lot of courage for you to take control of your life like that and you should really feel great. please know im here for you always and everything is going to be OK.

nite nite

Posted in: on Thursday, June 19, 2008 at at 1:44 PM 0 comments

Tucked away in the corner of the playground is my fairy. One of the big fairy kids cut off her tail. She was just playing by herself in the sandbox not bothering anyone, even using her own shovel to dig in the sand and then some asshole bully fairy came and pushed her to the ground and pushed her face in the sand. Then lifted her up, threw her in the corner and while the other bully fairy’s held her down, cut off her tail.

Now my fairy's tail is gone.

When she returned home, I saw her and immediately assessed that it would take some time for her to be back in full force. She's going to need lots of care and support. I will need to mold her mind into accepting that her tail is gone forever and hope that she see's a way to live happily without it.

I cannot say I have some immediate action plan for my fairy's recovery but I will come up with something. I think its probably best to let the shock of her loss first sink in, then let the sadness slip away and when she is ready, find a way to make her smile again.

Thankfully we both like to skate and go the park and iced coffee.

Posted in: on Tuesday, June 17, 2008 at at 10:33 AM 0 comments

I suppose that the fact that I read the entire Herald Tribune today is nothing to cry about. I didn't read EVERY article. Just the ones that took my mind off my life.

I guess on some level it was kinda funny this morning when I woke up and my three visitors who are all adults, two of them sick as can be, one coughing all nite and likely keeping the other two from sleeping, were all back in my bedroom. They had left me to sleep in the living room all alone. I guess they felt bad for taking over my house and they really had. I didnt even know them.

But then i missed the first train, then it was delayed en route, then 15 million french people all had to get up and down one single staircase thus making me miss the 2nd and most important train to the airport. then i missed, inevitably, the plane to vienna with the ultimate goal of reaching budapest. i had to make the call to my boss to relay this news and my incompetance as an employee. then came the upset and frustration. so after much rerouting and rescheduling I picked up the herald tribune on the way to italy and by the time I reached budapest, I was finished with it.

a coworker said i was in a mess of bad luck. and he was so right. i couldnt even take a cab to the airport originally because no cabs would go to the 14th arrodissment today due to the protesting/strike which I didnt even see when I left. that same coworker would look at me after my long sob story and say "welcome to france".

ok welcome to france. i get it.

brightness:
the room here has a massive bathtub
my friend kenny wrote me the nicest email today
one of the italian flight attendants looked like my dad as a teenager

Posted in: on Monday, June 16, 2008 at at 11:40 AM 0 comments

and then the storm came
this was like no other storm ive seen
the water level was high
i saw this barracuda swim by and glance at me
i could see in his heavy eyes
that he had built a shield around him
which protected him from the storm
he was unaffected by its giant waves
its tidal toxicity
he swam away from me as quickly as he swam towards me
i pressed on in hopes of sunlight and calm

Posted in: on Sunday, June 15, 2008 at at 12:49 PM 0 comments

The dog wasnt there today. I thought he was a stuffed dog at first. I have seen him all week in the window of this bodega we pass on the bus to work. First he stood like that zenith dog from the old record ad's. The next day he was laying down. I thought it was a different stuffed dog. Honestly this dog can hold a pose better than real stuffed dogs. I've never seen the dog move.

I suppose its the time of my big move overseas that my lonliness has set in. I'm literally SOAKED in lonliness. I miss everyone. The family, the friends, the connections. I miss all your craziness. I miss the late nite voicemails you left me and I left you. My boyfriend said I never asked him for alone time in the 4 months we've been together. It was the worst thing to hear. I didnt want to be told how dependent I had become. Especially when I was complaining to him that I was losing my indepedence by needing him this week cause my apartment is full of people I let stay there who I hardly know and I Have no where else to go. I tried to remember times when I needed alone time and it seems he always beat me to it first by staying home instead of staying over. I probably should have asked for time.

I guess relatively speaking, the fact that I moved to another country completely alone is dripping with independencies but I still didnt want to hear him say that.

I dont know how I feel about moving here.
I signed up for a conversation meet up to practice my french on a saturday.
maybe this will help.

Posted in: on Friday, June 13, 2008 at at 12:32 AM 0 comments

I tried to write on the bus home a bit using a pen and paper but its just not happening. My hand no longer can use a pen in any letter/note writing way. It takes ALL my effort to write. Its crazy. I grew up writing, I used to write a lot, I wrote at LEAST 100 letters to my friend Jody in college. and now I cannot write one single sentence.

I have decided I like French bananas.
It’s raining in France for a change.
I wrote another poem about the stuff that’s fills my mind but its not coming out of my mind in any way that anyone could understand
I also realize that we are supposed to understand poems but abstractly I would think
No one really literalizes a poem
But even abstractly my poem has issues

I need to save money
My rent is too high
I don’t think cooking at home saves more money than eating out
The food here is very expensive
The food I trust to go in my stomach.
Sure I could by a cow tongue for 1 Euro and eat for a week
But raise your hand if you eat tongue?
Now look around....clearly you can see that no one is:
a. There
b. Raising their hands
c. You are completely alone
d. You are getting sleepy
e. really really sleepy
f. All your dairy products are passed the expiration date

Please immediately go and throw them out. Its disgusting that you keep these products even a SECOND past their date.

Really it is!!!

I have no power over my life. I cannot even control my future. It sucks. I can’t answer any questions related to my future. I don’t know anything. Where I will move to next? If I will ever have a family? If I think I need to be married? If I will ever buy a stove? When I will pee next? If I will run out of wine tonight? If there will be a dairy cow in my apartment when I get home?

I feel like I deserve to have good stuff happen to me. I feel worthy of getting good stuff. But of course you are asking what is my definition of "good stuff". Yes, well take for example the family in little miss sunshine....remember how little "stuff" they actually had...I mean like material things. They lived basically like American lower middle class (not even middle class or upper middle cause I think that’s too generous) they had 2 old beat up cars, they ate KFC, they dressed modestly, their house was small and easily built in the 70's with little to no renovations. I mean whatever; well the point is what I liked so much about the movie was the family dynamic. They really worked together, they had major individual differences but in the end that didn’t even matter, with some effort they took each others dreams/fantasies/wishes seriously (ex. the fathers 15-whatever step program, Olives beautification system) I mean you saw clearly how the family both hated but still supported these dreams....no matter how ridiculous.

I never had that growing up. I don’t remember a situation like that. Its true I loved my childhood for sure but I didn’t have the closeness that I see in the family in LMS, and just too prove im not living in some Hollywood fantasy, for sure I have SEEN this dynamic when I lived at my friend Jody's house, in high school at my friend Susan’s in Atlanta where I spent several weeks at a time, even with my friend Kerri and her crazy but still somewhat jointed family. There are connections and fusions and frustrations that people take seriously. Just the other day I spoke to my mom who said I wouldn’t last in Paris. That I should wait to see if I'm there more than a year. She is convinced I wont last here. And its true maybe I never grew up having the dream of "moving to Paris" but its where I am now and I'd honestly rather she tell me she doesn’t like that I moved here instead of buttering over how she really feels. Sometimes my parents come out and say something that kinda tells me their opinion but mostly I'm left wondering where it came from. There’s little openness and honesty.

On a separate note I remain too sensitive still to my French speaking. I think im doing ok then I mis hear or say one single word of French to a French speaker who is not my teacher and BOOM I feel like a complete failure. too hard on myself and too sensitive.

Posted in: on Tuesday, April 29, 2008 at at 11:06 AM 1 comments

I'm in this "in between" phase in pretty much all aspects of life right now. i cannot cry it seems with any substantial and meaningful tears that really release the negativity from my body. in so many ways, i feel like i JUST moved to Paris. i feel like I'm somewhere between vacation and life, snow and sun, happiness and sadness.

its the middle of it all

Par example - I want to buy a loaf of bread dammit! YES baguettes are nice but its like committing murder if you even consider spreading peanut butter on them. And going to the register with a loaf of bread in your basket means you are NOT INTEGRATING into the Parisian life. In fact, I think that's actually written on your receipt!!

total: 34.50 euros
Vous n'avez pas integrated a Paris!


So where do I stand? well thats a good question, thanks for asking. I'd like to think this is like part 42 of the transition to another country but its not really written in the guidebook that way. and currently i have some thoughts which, while they may seem negative, i cannot control them. Like I REFUSE to go to these expat meet ups. Yeah yeah, so theres like 12 million American expats in Paris, so what! I simply don't want to meet them now. I just don't. i cant explain it. I also don't want to find a frenchie to practice my French with but that has a reasonable explanation that I'm just not ready.

in some ways, my social tendencies which, I believe, were quite high in NYC, have near completely disappeared here in France. but i feel them on the rise. isn't it weird how we can actually FEEL "feelings" rising up inside of us before they surface. i swear as soon as i get my shit together, i WILL venture out into this town of expats and mingle.

but all this reflective thinking really add's up and my friend Eve sort of has this process on how she lives which i appreciate. I like the idea of "letting stuff go". I think the main issue is that shit happens all the time. we cannot control it so why should it bother us. I think it took a long time for me, but I have finally learned not to sweat anything that hard. Its just life and it happens.

And strangely while I steer clear of any religious thought, lately I have thought a lot about where I came from and how I got here and where the hell I'm going after. I am certain I will vanish. I don't get nor believe in reincarnation. (my grandmother was a big believer, but so far she never came back to me as a bird. She loved birds so much that i swore she would reincarnate to one. She could even do almost every bird call whistle exactly.) So I just started thinking, well more "extra long-term", and thinking that I really don't have that much time here on earth or whatever, so WHY NOT just have fun. I mean in 20 years, if I'm not a doctor or famous musician, does it really matter? I would rather die knowing I took a piece of each day and made it my best.

Theres other stuff like doing the thing I fear most. Putting myself out there, opening my mind to enjoying people and new things....its all relevant. It takes work (effort) though. everything is work. EVERYTHING.

so its 9pm in Paris now. I am relaxed which is quite cool as lately all I really feel is fatigue. Real honest-to-goodness fatigue. Nothing I can say I have ever felt before. But I suppose when you have a real job, this kind of feeling can be quite normal.

but should it be?
what is more important to people of the world?
i want to know.

im too tired to even continue this.
i will leave with one incomplete thought...
there is absolutely no reason our colons should misbehave the way they do.



__________________________________________________

Posted in: on Thursday, April 10, 2008 at at 11:38 AM 0 comments

take me to your place
tell me about it
yeah i listen to country music
how else can we escape the concrete jungle
its a feeling more than a song
picture a back porch
some sweet corn
and the mountain sneezes its sweet smell
we all have places we go
when we need to escape
i have many
sometimes im swimming with my dad in Santa Monica
sometimes dolly parton is singing the blues
its sweet home and the slow life
the air is a nectar that reaches your soul
tears over a good hug
a warm touch along my back
gentle eyes to look at
make the day as sweet as the country air

Posted in: on Sunday, March 30, 2008 at at 11:02 AM 0 comments

There are some things you just cannot describe
Like the way you think the sun will never shine again
The way you felt when your boyfriend panicked over accidentally breaking a key in an old door
The way it feels each day
Of each moment
I want to take a bath
And soak my knee in warm water
I hope I can be a desirable candidate for the millennium
I cannot describe the days in Paris
The job in Paris
The life in Paris
Its mashed potatoes
Its cheese fondue spilled over a god dammed baguette traditional
Its 9-7:30
Its confusion wrapped in what might be bacon sharpened by the conversation you don’t understand

Drag me around by my chapped lips
Race me to the sidewalk and the let your inner j-walker come out
Burn the ramen
but spare the vin
You will miss everything if you stay inside

Posted in: on Saturday, March 29, 2008 at at 11:49 AM 0 comments

I’m sure if you have lived in another country then this story will be mildly amusing but the events of tonight could very nicely summarize my life as of March 2008.

I’m in Vienna (Vien) as in Austria, the country, the freezing cold country. I have forgotten my Du dune (ie. Bubble coat, j-lo coat, down jacket) and as usual im freezing. I’m sitting at a table in an Italian pizzeria with two French men (coworkers) starring at a menu in Italian with German translations. I find something called the “scallopine” and immediately think it must be what the Americans call a “scallop” (not sure what the English call it). The French man from near the Italian border points out that Im in the meat section of the menu and I’m dead wrong! Lol. I find the fish section. Still no one knows the German or Italian word for scallop. The other French man says its probably one of three on the list. There is an ENTIRE table next to us of germans from the same company (we are on a business trip) and apparently its rude to ask them to translate so I don’t. The waiter kept pointing out the steak “scallopine” so I decided its time to text my German boyfriend back in Paris and ask him for the word. Its “Jakobsmuschel”, he texts back.

Now the Italian waiter is given the correct German word and I’m immediately reminded that I’m in an Italian restaurant and they don’t have scallops. The two frenchies agree there are no scallops in Italian cooking and I’m completely embarrassed. I’m thinking that even the first generation Italians I knew back in New York didn’t tell me they had no scallops in the Meditteranean Sea. They don’t have oysters either. Am I the only one who didn’t get the memo? I felt like a complete idiot. Lol. But we had a good laugh anyway.

All the while I’m corrected 10 times over for saying “penne” wrong and then I’m given what seemed to be the third lecture on how to properly pronounce Italian words if I choose to continue living in Europe.

Not to beat up this dead horse but please note I am describing only dinner. To bullet some other frustrating translation moments of JUST today we have:

The morning Austrian attack when trying to find the “competitive breakfast” conference room

The Serbian demonstration of some type of thoracic clinical triangle which I made him repeat at least 5 times

The crazy housekeeping lady who knocked on my door tonight while I was in the bath screaming if I wanted what I think was a “beverage”

The glass misunderstand and then ice cube misunderstanding as I attempted to order what the French call a “martini” which, even though it comes in “extra dry” bears absolutely no comparison to the American martini which is likely not even American at all. What the hell is American anyway? I think about the comparisons I make while living here to things from “back in New York” (whatever) but almost immediately realize they were not American at all. NYC really is international. More than we think. And its an extremely good prep city for moving to Paris but NOT without some intensive food/drink class for certain. You must sign up immediately.

Halfway through my Penne Pesto (which had no pesto at all and was served in red sauce) the waiter pointed out the obvious that I was served the wrong penne. But, while he was correct, the hunger situation inside my stomach was so advanced that I didn’t care and refused to give back my plate so he could correct the error.

There is this one characteristic of the coworkers (ie. French men) that I cannot seem to shake. I feel like, for at least one of them, that no matter what you say, he will always and forever have some alternate reaction. Par example:

I am cold (says I)

OH COME ON, ITS WARM IN HERE. (says the argumentative French man)

I am sad (says I)

THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE, THERE IS NO REASON (says the crazy French man)

I told them that I felt nervous about speaking french in front of them and I wasn’t ready to try and he said that was crazy. Even I know its crazy but all I wanted from him is just for him to nod his head and let me “have” (ie. Own) this feeling whether he agreed or not. I knew he would not be able to but I tried and then I told him to just let it go. Stop arguing. I don’t know if its because he’s French or because he’s so set in his ways that he cannot open his mind to the thoughts of people other than him.

The night ended with the three of us headed for the small Vien canal which I think is the Danube canal, not to be confused with the giant Danube river also running through Vien. The one Frenchie lazily checked the map and I forced him to stop caring, put down the map and let us leave! I was, as predicted, miles ahead of them, I could not slow down, even for the respect of their walking pace, I was excited to get my blood flowing as I was without my bubble coat.

We found the canal. Eventually, with little effort honestly. I had two 2 euro coins and asked the boys to make a wish. Of course they could not deal with this and insisted the “tradition” was to only throw pennies. I agreed this was even the American tradition but I had no pennies and they should just shut up and deal. I am not rich but I had at least one wish I needed to wish and in emergencies, any coin will have to do. They could not agree so another exhaustive debate was held until I had convinced one of them and we finally made our wishes. I was so tired, I’m not even sure I put in the wish I wanted.

Posted in: on Monday, March 10, 2008 at at 6:32 AM 0 comments

Remember this...

you live in france
you havent learned french
it shouldn't be so hard
to buy a bike
but even anger is difficult to translate
things must change

im mad at myself because I should try harder
why am i so tired all the time
why is work so important
i dont have a void about my career
what is normal?
what is the way people are?
im taking a poll...how many of you have a intense overwhelming
need to work, to be work, to live and love work?
am i in the wrong job?
the wrong country?
how come my priorities dont match the others?


i was trying to think of a way to explain something that happened today
the wind is normally my best friend
is the call of the ocean
the calm of the country
its me
but today it was this evil force
i was blinded by the sun
tortured by the wind
and it was all exasperated by the misunderstandings
of the english language
i spoke to my american friend tonight
i cant remember how to think in english
i couldnt remember words like "disfunctional"

its all going to be ok because tonight
im going on a boat
on the seine
to dance
and dancing is the best thing in the world
right now
beat beat beat beat beat
thump a dee thump
you gotta make it through

this is the life

Posted in: on Saturday, March 1, 2008 at at 10:47 AM 0 comments

I put on the scarf
my neck started to itch
My neck lays on your arm
when we sleep
and its an unconditional love
I stopped writing
cause of culture shock
but whose culture is indeed shocked?
you remind me of the happiest days
the warmest sun
an embrasse I always wanted
What I know the most
is that I deserve you
what i know the least doesn't matter
stop counting your vacation days
are you afraid of missing something
has the boat sailed away
this worries me but unconditionally
i believe in the next boat
and even if the count is zero my love
you have me

Posted in: on Monday, February 25, 2008 at at 11:46 AM 1 comments

Admittedly I only let the fact that I now live in Europe enter my mind gradually. Most of time I think I pretend I'm still in NYC. It only really hits me at certain times and usually just briefly (from a few minutes to an hour) that its a reality like today when I first thought I had a toothache but wasn't ready to face that fact knowing full well that going to a dentist would be like fixing the carburetor on any machine that had one. It would require books and learning and hours upon hours of research. But then after those thoughts cross through me, I think more simply and wonder who I could ask to help me. That’s a big struggle here. Asking for help versus learning on your own. I only feel slightly guilty when I ask for help because I have paid careful attention in these last few years to my core limitations.

I feel like I know when I have reached a maximum in terms of struggle and hardship and I try to refuse myself to step over that limit. If I feel like I'm getting stressed or upset, I can now (mostly) have a mini conference in my mind (usually in the moment of crisis) and decide whether it’s controllable or not controllable. If not, then I let myself relax and I think even my body language will reveal the decision I've made.

So now I have this ache in my entire lower jaw. It’s really weird and I'm wondering if it’s related to something I ate or the water or whatever? I JUST went to the dentist for a full check up less than a month ago and left with a clean bill. So what is this pain? It’s almost like my gums are swollen and it hurts to talk sometimes. So I begin thinking that in the states, we call our dentist and make an appointment, insurance (if we have it) takes care of the rest. As I reach for the phone (in my mind) I realize I am here. And then reality strikes.

My mom asked me today how work was going. My immediate thought was to think why is she asking me that? Its work, work is work, but then again, I'm reminded that she never really asked about work before, she must be asking about Paris work. New job work, new life work. That has to be it. So then I am again, reminded that I'm not in America.

I also begin to wonder how I can move to Paris, live in a hotel room, read a French train schedule, find a French bus and work in a mostly French office and yet still leave little room in my mind that I'm actually in France. It’s strange how other people remind me of this fact that is plain as day.

I wondered if my friend who recently visited was happy to be home again. Back in NYC. If she felt like her life was there and why she felt that way? And how she didn’t seem that bothered that her most potential mate was in London with no job and a firm hand to never live in the US again.

I wonder if we ever truly know where we will end up or how we will get there. The cute German at work said he wasn't sure if moving to France was the "best" decision for him because all/most of his friends were back home (somewhere in Germany) and I didn't have time to respond to that but I have been thinking about that statement a lot.

I moved to New York BECAUSE all my friends were there. I moved to Paris with little to no friends. I can’t make heads or tails of these reasons but they were different times in my life. I was about 22 when I moved to NYC and needed friends all around me. Needed heaps of inspiration and commotion and chaos that North Carolina could not offer me. I wasn't ready to take charge of my life and needed a certain support group to guide/help me. These friends accomplished this very task I secretly assigned them. And the inner growth sparked and flourished. I still need them but now it’s in different ways.

I guess I have "grown" a level of confidence that allows me to make giant decisions and move to a new country alone. I have no strings, no weights, nothing to stop me and I love this about my life. I know now that no matter where I go, my friends back in NYC are gold. And I could feel this most when I was leaving and every one of them reached out to me with support and genuine concern that my transition here would be with ease.

Posted in: on Saturday, January 5, 2008 at at 2:39 PM 1 comments

Pic: Window at Printemps

The lights/window combination of super holiday spirit made the NYC Macy's look like a cheap ass strip mall in Colonia, New Jersey. haha. And as if that wasn't enough, Printemps is located right next to Galleries Lafayette with lights that practically made you holy on the spot (see pics). But of course the pics don't even justify the real time experience. The thing is, on the Pari-Roller, i skated RIGHT down this road (blocked off to cars of course) and right through the lights. It was like skating through my own personal winter wonderland/lets go "pneumonia" night of happiness!

The report from new years includes complete madness on my part. See I read the email quickly which stated it was a "black and white" party. Reading that combined with the fact that the dinner party I attended at the same place was too the nines with every detail so in my mind black and white immediately translated into "black tie" which mean't my friend and I needed dresses and fast. THe one i had in mind to wear was still back in nyc and my friend didnt have anything that dressy. We put together our best black tie wear:
me- velvet pencil skirt with elaborate black top
her - black knee length dress with v-neck
both of us dressed the outfits with pearls, black gloves and our tall heels.

we show up at the lobby and see some guys in jeans walking in. my friend said they must be with a different party.

so we arrive and about 2.5 seconds later realize that im a complete fool. black and white meant simply black and white. we were the nicest dressed people in the entire party and received many compliments about our style. haha.

Pic: Window at Galleries Lafayette

the food spread outdid the dinner party spread two gorgeous gays could ever prepare/order. I'm not even kidding that they served two HUGE plates of (well lets list)

1. two huge plates of fresh oysters
2. 20 kinds of french cheese and breads
3. homemade goat cheese bread
4. 1/2 foot block (at least) of fois gras (which costs like 100/euros an square centimeter
5. american style turkey and stuffing
6. 4 dessert trays
7. cake
8. a HUGE fully flavored salad
and if you think i didnt eat cause of all the cheese, you are WRONG my friend...
9. 15 differnt kinds of finger foods i cant even begin to describe

Pic: Oyster spread

the wine/champagne was endless. im not sure how the kitchen even held that much food. it was pure madness in the food department.
in the gay department it was pure goodness. The gays love to dine and wine. I met too many people. One straight guy who flew in from Prague (he's american) who told my friend and i we were the most "good looking females" at the party and there were at least 10 females (total) to choose from. I think a few were gay. Who knows but we ran into the "gay" females a day later in my hood. They totally recognized us. Probably cause we are the two tallest females in all of Paris. lol The tall thing is almost out of hand. I'm just too tall for life in general sometimes.

So the party ended at whatever time I cannot remember but we had a great time.

I must mention that my friend and I hit two crepes places while she was here. The first was my favorite and could do no wrong. There are many to choose from so the 2nd time we hit another one and it was the worst experience ever.

Firstly, the waiter fooled me into letting on that he spoke english. He brought out the "still" water. I quickly poured and my friend said "we have a floater" and i noticed a little black dot in her cup. Then upon inspection of the container, I noticed there were NOT ONE but THREE fucking insects FLoating in the damn thing. I tried to give it back to the waiter but another waiter intervened, hardly looked at the insects I pointed to and took it away quickly.

Then we ordered and it was no use epxlaining the bugs at this point. I ordered a crepe with egg and ham. She ordered a crepe with egg and sausage. I even POINTED to the item on the menu. Out came more water with MORE bugs and my crepe fully loaded with Cheese!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pic: Lights at Printemps

dammit. so we pretended to eat, then left. The waiter looked annoyed. We will never go there again. So we get back to the hotel and I immediately consult my buddy Mattheiu at the front desk about the experience. He explains how I should have ordred and how I should have asked his advice first for a restaurant cause his mom is from Brittany and "he" (aka, his mom) knows best. His version of english is beyond cute. HE then expressed complete PAIN that I could not eat cheese and I tried to explain its not all cheeses but only a few. The conversation was priceless:

Matthieu: You are only allergic to cow cheeses?
Me: Mostly yes, it depends. I am allergic to goat cheese as well and thats not cow.
Matthieu: No, goat cheese is cow.
Me: What? its goat no?
Matthieu: No, sometimes its cow.

My friend says she saw me crying with laughter trying not to laugh at that comment. In fact, I hardly remember the rest of the conversation because all I could think was how horribly cute he was to say that. I love that man. LOVE HIM!

These lost in translation moments are numerous. Just the other day, I left two bottles of champagne for my new landlord and his brother at his brothers apartment door in my new building along with a card. A few days later after I left a message hoping he got my "present" he called and emailed that he was so happy to recieve my "file". I was sure I didnt say file and even my boss at work didnt know what that meant.

We also got this email from the cutest most wonderful Hungarian from another work office in Budapest who went on and on about how sick he has been but he doesnt think its like last time when he was really sick and have to have his "almond" removed! He said he's sick again but since he no longer has his "almond" then he is ok! I had to ask what that meant and apparently its his tonsils! And in Hungarian, the word for the nut AND the organ are the same.

:)
I will stop here. too much already im sure.

Posted in: on Friday, January 4, 2008 at at 12:12 PM 1 comments