nous sommes tous hors de NORMAL

this is the end

2008-07-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

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

the giant spider is back

2008-07-11T01:29:00.001-07:00

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. :)

last nite

2008-07-10T14:56:00.000-07:00

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

portugese poulet

2008-07-09T02:51:00.000-07:00

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.

sunday before monday

2008-07-06T03:46:00.000-07:00

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.

the truth

2008-06-28T15:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-28T06:37:00.000-07:00

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

today

2008-06-28T00:27:00.000-07:00

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

minor things

2008-06-25T13:57:00.000-07:00

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.

dinner theater

2008-06-22T10:02:00.000-07:00

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.

looking for funny

2008-06-22T03:54:00.000-07:00

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

there is no city

2008-06-21T16:45:00.000-07:00

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

greed

2008-06-20T11:29:00.001-07:00

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

bullet points

2008-06-20T10:59:00.001-07:00

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.

Pluto

2008-06-20T06:43:00.000-07:00

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.

thoughts while flying

2008-06-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

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

Never leave your fairy alone in the playground

2008-06-17T10:33:00.000-07:00

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.

time to read the entire paper

2008-06-16T11:40:00.000-07:00

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

im sick of titles

2008-06-15T12:49:00.000-07:00

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

trempe

2008-06-13T00:32:00.001-07:00

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.

End of the day thoughts plus most of April

2008-04-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

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.

Somewhere between taking off and being airborne

2008-04-10T11:38:00.000-07:00

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.

__________________________________________________

2008-03-30T11:02:00.000-07:00

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

an honest day

2008-03-29T11:49:00.000-07:00

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

At least we found the canal

2008-03-10T06:32:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-01T10:47:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-25T11:46:00.001-08:00

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

I live here now

2008-01-05T14:39:00.000-08:00

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.

Too much

2008-01-04T12:12:00.000-08:00

There are too many days to catch you up on so I'm just going to start somewhere in the middle and somewhere in the middle I took my friend to Printemps.

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.

the GREATEST moment

2007-12-28T23:49:00.000-08:00

Ok so far there have been many great moments. MANY. But last night, unable to sit in the hotel alone, I took my laptop downstairs to my friend and concierge Matthieu and asked him to help me find out if the Pari-rollers were on! It had been raining and the streets didnt look wet but were at some points. I hadn't skated in about 4 weeks so I knEW jumping into a 30 kilometer (18 mile) insane city skate with near professional skaters was the right thing to do!

HOLY ALL THAT IS GOOD ON EARTH.....it was BEYOND the right thing to do. I was nervous as hell (again). Matthieu definately noticed and he kept telling me to relax. But the fact remained:

1. I was alone

2. It was late at night and i hardly know Paris

3. Even in that scenario, I REFUSEd to carry anything with me

4. I did end up carrying my metro card and 20 euros

5. I was certain all the annoucements would be in french

So the MOMENT I put my skates on, my feet started cramping up like insanity. I found the place where they begin which ironically is like 2 blocks from where I live and where I WILL LIVE. I couldnt sit down honestly cause of my feet, I tried stretching and stretching and more stretching and skating around. Finally they stopped hurting. And the place was really exciting. They had a dj, tons of music and then tons of men started showing up. Like one single man after the other. This, of course, made me more nervous. They all appeared single. There were very few women but one other who apparently came alone like me. Or maybe her friends didnt make it.

Ok so as predicted ALL the annoucements are in French. I am lost, people are skating everywhere....where do we actually begin, when, why, how, I was not sure of anything. Finally a resemblence of a starting point appeared. I got right up in front. We started on a hill but I didnt even care...And we were off!

It was insanity. Pure insanity.

Roller blading cops with us the entire time

They formed skaters of three in line and raced passed me several times

Cars and streets stopped with no honking

Employee's with yellow "Pari-roller" shirts skating all around us weaving in and out like maniacs

They stopped at almost every street ahead and within to make sure cars wouldnt kill us

Hand signals and yelling in unicen when cars were in the way or we were about to turn

It was fast and everyone clearly had a need for speed

The better skaters did all kinds of crazy speed demon tricks, weaving in and out, taking turns on two wheels, jumping up on sidewalks and my favorite wa sthis one dude who dodged a car in this INCREDIBLe fierce skate to the left microsecond moment. And the car didnt even honk. And the city didn't even care.

I'm sorry but NYC could NEVER pull this off. Close roads, not once but you understand EVERY friday night for measely little skaters.

We stopped to rest at all the right moments

I could hardly see but I know we were on rue St. Lazare

Near Place d'Italie

RIGHT through the gorgeous lights of Printemps

By Notredam

the list is endless. Well look at the map. They do a variation on the route every week apparently. And last nights involved a lot of hills. By the last 1/2 hour (its 3 hours, 10pm-1am) I was near death. In fact, some nice Parisian man was pushing me to help and one of the yellow shirted workers gave me his hand to pull me at some point cause the hill was killing me and clearly they do not like anyone to go slow. NEAR DEATH! But I felt so damn good and knew that I had to do this many MANY more times. But I need interim practice skating to gain stamina. How can I do this if I am home so late everynight? Its so wrong.

So there was this one kinda cute guy Nicholas who saw me fall on my ass at one of the stops while I was trying to stretch. I fell like a bastard. haha. and we talked a bit, of course he realized I didn't speak French and he didnt seem to upset. He asked for my number but of course I dont have it memorized so the best I could do is give him my email.

We were closing into the end of the ride when I recognized the big building (tour Montparnasse) and my body got this burst of energy, probably cause it knew it was almost done. So I raced towards it and finally made it home. Of course the hotel was empty and the concierge locks the door so I stood outside the hotel for like 10 minutes freezing, in pain but still so excited about what I accomplished. Matthieu had left already so I wont get to tell him about it until tonight!

Feelin good my friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-12-28T04:22:00.000-08:00

On the bus today I thought about my cousins. Specifically the bond i have formed with Mark. He makes life so much sweeter.

In the canteen today, I found a seat far from everyone (it was packed). Away from all the French conversations. Away from the coworker who clearly did not invite me to join her. Near the window which meant near the heater which felt great on the cold legs and I read. I pretended I was alone. And I was.

In my dreams wednesday night I was bitten by at least two snakes. They surrounded me from all sides. I woke up in a panic. I was pissed at the snakes in the dream because I missed my train and then I didn't know how to get where I was going.

Last night I woke up with another nitemare, this time at 3:30. My stomach was talking for about 1 hour and it had nothing good to say. I finally fell back asleep but with anxiety.

No matter how much water I drink I'm still dry.

About a year ago my stepfather had a stroke. He has suffered badly from depression and I think he is going to have some breakthroughs in the new year. We have been emailing eachother and he has opened up to me.

People pass my office all the time but very few stop.

When I was 29 I had perfect hair.

Maintaining impure thoughts is just as hard as not maintaining impure thoughts.

I am lonely but I am not sad. Music is here to keep me company.

Currently: 2 Rights Make 1 Wrong by Mogwai

Happy New Year

The friday report

2007-12-28T00:03:00.000-08:00

So I copied Elizabeth Gilbert last night and met up with a native (French) man to begin a casual exchange of languages. She talked about this in her book Eat, Pray, Love. Only she was in Italy. But as fearful as I was to even take the meeting, it was pretty much perfect well with the exception of me. haha. Let me begin by saying on the way to the "financier" (a bar) I saw this cute guy give money to a homeless person and briefly wondered if that could be the man I'm meeting but he said he would be in a grey coat and this man had a dark black coat on. Well about 5 seconds later in the bar, it WAS the same man. And even though he may have a color handicap he was terribly cute.

So instantly I felt better as he was not the monster I pictured in my mind. We talked about everything. So then he suggested food which i KNEW would be impossible with my nerves but we went to a creperie which was like 1 block away from my new place and I dont know why I suddenly trusted this man so much (the two glasses of wine could have something to do with it) but I decided to show him my new apartment! Plus I'm so eager to show it off. But the hords of you have just rolled your eyes, YES, and the word stupid has probably rolled off your tongue because what on earth was I thinking!! I mean he didnt kill me or even try to kill me. In fact, we had a long discussion about the lack of space for my appliances. It was very normal. He's very normal (so far). Anyway, after that, we stood there and I was still very nervous and I didnt know what to do, so I stuck out my hand to shake his and he essentially pushed it aside for the double cheek kiss and then he proceeded to tell me we should hang out again certainly and then he threw in "Actually I have a girlfriend for the moment" haha. I didn't quite know what to make of that sentence and specifically "for the moment" Perhaps he doesnt think it will last? Perhaps its a language barrier? But his English was quite good and I didn't think he would say that wrong.

Anyway, he suggested a museum. I was actually relieved he had a girlfriend in a way. It made being friends much easier. I also feel that it takes the pressure away. So it was a wonderful night even if I greately insulted his people (He's from Brittany) and didn't eat any crepes. Or as he calls them: "Galette" and apparently this is what I should be calling them if I plan to fit in to my new neighboorhood.

History Lesson by Me:
Briefly, I will be living in Montparnasse. As I understand it, a very long time ago tons of Galette farmers/makers from Britanny would travel/migrate to Paris and the train from that part of France (Northwest) would always go directly into the Gare Montparnasse and since they didnt stray far from the Gare, they settled near there and now you have like a million creperies all over my neighboorhood. I've been to two of these creperies so far and I feel like I need more time to find the perfect crepe/galette. To be perfectly clear, this man last night said "crepes" are said/associated with dessert and the flour used is different from a main course galette which looks like a crepe but uses different flour and all that.

Notes from work

2007-12-26T01:42:00.000-08:00

I was never totally clear on when I had my waxing appointment when I went to make it the other day, nor was I clear on where the appointment was but today I got a call from the salon which I struggled to understand. I'm pretty sure they need me to either call or show up at 5pm instead of 6 on monday because the shop closes. Either way, I'm so excited to get the wax I planned to practically camp out the night before and I have the day off anyway, so I can totally show up on time.

But as I'm confused about todays date/time/what country I'm in, I opened the calendar on this laptop and just as if France wanted to clarify with me that I am, indeed, here, they put me in the perfect time zone! hahah - see for yourself....

Pic: A clear message of where I am in the world

Sunday Xmas Dinner

2007-12-25T15:11:00.000-08:00

Pic: salmon on mushrooms and spinach wrapped in dough then baked for 20 min. the main course of my xmas dinner. Gorgeous chunk of fish!

Tonight I feasted with 7 people. At a gorgeous Parisian apartment with a view of the top of the eiffel tower from one (of TWO) balconies! The dinner was memorable for certain but the piesta resistance (sp?) began when dessert was served: tri-chocolate "samba" which is some form of the traditional "bouche" dessert cake that most parisians eat in the winter holiday time.

One footnote of french dinner parties is the enormous amoutn of champagne. And that was on top of the wine consumption abundance! From what I gather, the wine/champagne occurances are:

1. upon arrival at the apartment with hardly your coat off

2. during the sit down meet and greet

3. the moment you sit down pre food servation

4. at all times during the dinner (POP-toasts could occur at any time so the glasses MUST remain full)

5. post dinner but pre dessert

6. post dessert

7. on the way out the door

It was a drink fest of how much bubbly fits in your stomach. I have never been a huge champagner mainly cause there have been few occassions when just a small amount made me puke so I try to take it easy.

The hostess was certainly the mostess! She really went above and beyond for all of us and I felt terribly loved and couldnt believe she opened up her home to me after knowing me for like 1 second. haha.

le plan B

2007-12-25T04:50:00.000-08:00

Otherwise known as the plan that didnt work out...Found in my new hood, nestled on a street near Gallerie Gaite

Life in the dead

2007-12-25T04:29:00.000-08:00

Pic: Cemetery Pere Lachaise, signifigant winter sun, day after the solstice

If you find yourself in Paris in winter when everyone is home with their families, stores are closed and nothing to do...head to the nearest cemetery! I felt like they opened it JUST for me and my two super cousins. We followed super fast cousin #1 to some side entrance which he thought was the main entrance to Pere Lachaise cemetery. We spent at least three hours in the sunlight walking around all the dead people just lovin every inch of that day.

Last night was xmas eve. We had no plans and no reservations. A quick internet search took us to this famous restaurant called La Coupole. A favorite of Hemingway, J. Baker, its a huge brasserie upstairs and dance hall downstairs. As we walked up to the place, I started to realize that I was there last year...with the poet. We met his poet friend there. This is where she took us. I remembered we ordered food but never ate it cause we realized we had 15 minutes to catch our train across town back to Brussels. We rushed out and later missed the train. We stayed at his friends that night. Forced to stay in Paris. I frowned to myself thinking that free trip he got to europe (on our mutual friends frequent flyer miles) was the only reason he was with me. I decided to enter the place as if I'd never been. And it was so much fun!
Pic: Small bits of color caught my eye

We had a 45 minute wait at the bar where we drank and told stories. Cousin #2 lost her earring so there was the hunt for the silver soho dangler...then the food, the cute waiter who thought we were japanese! lol. And the table switch which I couldnt stop laughing about. They sat us next to this empty table.

Brazilian Mom and Son

Empty table with no place settings

Us Three

Parisian Family of 5

Then as if the waiters held a meeting and decided that our personalities would not blend well next to this french family, they explained we need to switch. Our table was pulled out pushed to the left and the empty table was pushed to the right, a switch. We were now sitting next to the brazilons. And the empty table remained empty for at least a 1/2 hour. Then some other small family of three sat there. But i never understood the reason for the switch. It had to be a personality switch. We were quite boisterous and laughing and talking to everyone. The waiter seemed to love us. The brazilion doctor/mom had lived in Minnesota (where the cousins are from) and spoke four languages (portugese, spanish, french, english). The food was insanity. We had fish and the cousin insisted on red wine. He is not a fan of white even with fish.

Pic: Oscar Wildes bises and love

We never found the earring but it was a perfect night. And this place is two blocks from my new apartment. TWO BLOCKS. At the end of the night the waiter gave me some advice on learning french. He said its best to watch tv late at night when no ones in a rush and they speak slower. Hahaha. that was awesome. Late night french programming where they speak slower!

Pic: Just across from Oscar, a great crane rose into view

Pic: near the real entrance of the cemetery, giant empty cobblestone road

The day before Xmas

2007-12-24T04:07:00.000-08:00

Today, the nerves have come and go. I decided to be zen with my first venture to the canteen alone. I half looked for anyone to ask to join but no one was in sight and those who were, I didnt recognize.

I put on the coat, grabbed A Movable Feast and headed to feast. I spotted the roasted tomatoes and headed directly towards them. There were other things being served behind the same counter that were running out. The server said something to me which must have meant the pasta is gone but I stood tall and starred daringly into the plentiful supply of tomatoes. I said I wanted two, he gave me four, I gave him back one. There was some salami and yogurt and I took two clementines for a snack.

I headed towards the main eating section and saw a woman alone reading. I thought Ok, not so bad. So I found a table which gave me a full view of whose coming and going, sat, scanned the room for a familiar face or a cute guy and proceeded to read. I felt like mostly the foreigners were left behind. The room scan looked like a Jackson heights grocery store minus the children. I suppose southeast asia is expensive and far for just one day. And I'm guessing most of them could care less about santa or claus.

I probably could have finished the book in one sitting but I only have a few books with me and they are super expensive here so I stopped before I couldnt stop. Of course upon arrival back at the office, I am greeted by a coworker asking if I had lunch yet. Earlier before I left he rushed by in a coat so I figured he left already. But he was sweet enough to ask if I wanted to join and he also seemed worried that I ate alone. Dammit these people pay attention to detail. Either that or they don't often get new employees. I feel terribly loved here.

My mind is wandering here at work. I have 15 more ground truths to complete. This means I need to check the quality of the registration software. That means that that two radiology scans are overlaid (CT, MR, PET, etc) and I need to check it, then save the results which are in the form of some quantification table called a "ground truth".

The truth is, without a proper phone, I have no idea what day or time it is. This led me to forget my stepfathers birthday. I felt so bad that I wrote him a letter. I told him how sorry I was to forget his birthday and how great he is and how he's a good father and I also stuffed some portions of how I think he's depressed and needs to cheer up and get off his ass and start doing shit to make himself feel better. I hope he doesn't get mad but I was quick to "disclaim" that I am the child with the heart on the sleeve while he locks away every possible emotion.

I'm alone at the office. I'm the dj, the sound controller, the light controller, the office furniture mover, the rearrange expert. I'm happy.

:)

What kind of bird is this?

2007-12-22T23:07:00.000-08:00

I whisper to my cousin at this dinner party last night. He leans in, starts laughing and says "Its a lamb".

For the record I did eat a decent portion (for me) of this bird animal creature. And no, I'm not a veggie. I just have little experience with any non cow type eating experience. So france will certainly be opening the doors of new animals. My favorite line at work in the first week of eating in their "canteen" was when Cedric said in his terribly cute English "It is not a chicken but not a turkey, it is something in between I believe" As if France alone has created an entirely new bird that they didnt tell anyone about!

So I decided last night that I am totally addicted to listening to french people speak english. Its the cutest thing in the world next to the three different puppies I dreamed about last night. (i was petting them in my dream, still seems to real to me). One of the guests, Liz, an american, (she's been here 6 or so years) was explaining to my cousins wife how it goes both ways. She's been told that for a french person, the "cuteness" factor in the accent and way of speaking for an american speaking french is just as much.

Par exemple...Sometimes when my boss and I head to the "canteen" for lunch, Cedric will come meet us in our office and we go. But the first time he was about to come, he emailed me "I will come take you now in your office"!!! hahaha, im still laughing at that one. I was blushing when he got there and had to explain the story to my boss which was even funnier.

Actually its refreshing to have coworkers that are humorous and these people definately are. Humor is essential to the workday. And they even get my jokes!

(8:00) AM. On sunday.

sleep is a disaster

2007-12-21T22:45:00.000-08:00

First of all its 7:45 AM. Even nuns must sleep in on Saturdays.

Last night was magical. I took the cousins to my new "local". It mean't all the peanut butter in the midwest to have to them sitting with me, talking to me, drinking with me here in Paris. And I knew having them here would get me out of the hotel. I knew I needed to get out and the plans they have for me this week rolled off their tongues almost all nite...This exhibtion, the view from that tower, the walk down this street, they remembered the corner of a church they once stood in front of. The list was endless, and time means nothing when you live as freely as my cousin. They stood there inspired by me and my move and I couldnt help but wonder why? I was looking dead in the eye two people who have earned medals in living life to the fullest. Its a priveledge to know them. And yet, there they were, looking at me and complimenting me. They said they saw themselves in me. They saw the earlier selves. They are near their mid 50's. Of course one could never tell.

What I liked the most was how my cousin took a bite of my omelette at dinner. I find something terribly endearing about people when they feel comfortable enough with you to share food. It has always been a sign of closeness that I mark highly in a friendship or even a relationship. The french nerve, albiet he was poor, would share from my plate (even when he had his own) and offer me parts of his food that always warmed my heart. My friends (who will marry next year) share food together all the time and its sweet as hell to watch this in person.

Its mad early still. The sun isnt even out.

Turn up the music LOUD

2007-12-19T14:14:00.000-08:00

Cause im in LOVE with this town. And forget that I told a stranger today that I loved him accidental French is what happened. I meant to tell him simply that i liked Paris. But the french for like and love is the same and the french for you and Paris is quite differnt of course but I messed it up! He blushed! :)

&%*$()%#$&*(%)#&
DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT NICE PEOPLE!?!
you should take a HINT. I swear you should.
Nice is the way to go.
ITS THE IN thing.
its now. its here.
nice is hot! sexy and kisses so well.
%$()%#*$%)(#$%#*)

i love that i can put my headphones on and forget everything for a while. forget im an ocean away of everything and everyone. forget that im in this TINY hotel room.

i fill this space so sweetly.
and now step back.
stop starring
stop asking
im happy being quiet
im fine being left alone (now thats a lie)

I stood in the concord yesterday
and ate force fed goose liver
i thought it was pork

the nicest part of today was when Christian stayed in my office and asked if i was ok. I think he saw me rushing off to the bathroom last week to cry
he is seriously nice.
and as articulate as a french man can be.

the lip bruiser sweats four women at once
the neighboor meets and greets with Robert Johnson
the nigerian packs for London
the fake blood embarks for Paris
my southern lance armstrong wakes up a COUNTRY with his smile
the little ecuadorian sighs and sips her Mojito
while my Pastis stinks up the office
The days moves on and on

I'm concentrating on the ocean. I am pulling it closer. I need this giant body of water to soothe the ache's

the song, and the day, are almost over
perhaps you havent quite got it
Perhaps you have no idea how rich I am with love
and family and people who care.
you cannot break this

For the New Yorkers

2007-12-17T14:03:00.001-08:00

Each time I witness it, I am in disbelief. Seriously, its like nothing you have ever seen. I may have mentioned in a previous post how Parisians do not share the New York sentiments of impatience. But I am witnessing this more and more. Each moment when you expect rolled eyes, screaming, horns honking...it just doesn't happen. The people in public service you automatically expect poor treatment from constantly suprise me by smiling, caring, taking their time and even looking you in the eye when you speak to them. Its insanity.

You are greeted every time you enter the grocery store. There are people in the front that actually stop and get coffee (standing up and hanging out) IN the grocery store as if its a fun place to be.

Bank tellers, bus riders, secretaries at work, even HIGH SCHOOL kids being roudy will still move out of your way and nicely, politely ask you for cigarettes and the time of day. Its like another world.

The main thing is that people are really genuinely nice from what I have observed so far. And while the occasional New Yorker would definately go out of their way to help you (of course), I am witnessing this here almost all day long and I cant help but search for the sarcasm in each "Bonjour"........

the main detail is how damn good you feel after being treated nicely, the way you wish you were treated by default. kinda warms the inside heart/cardiac area. Below the neck, but above the intestines.

Very warm.

Practical Guide for the Furniture shopper in Paris

2007-12-17T13:53:00.001-08:00

Step ONE: Immediately fly back to the US, shop, and ship everything back to Paris.

I'm serious people. Now granted I have just started my search, but the outlook is VERY DIM. If you share my taste, then the idea of furnishing your apartment with IKEA makes you nearly dead. And this means you are in big trouble. I have asked around at work, in groups, from my small group of Paris friends and almost every single one immediately answers "Ikea". I went online: Ebay - France, Kijiji - France, Fusak.fr, Craigslist...take a look, go ahead, its ALL IKEA!!! and/or crappity crap you wouldn't even put in your shed out back!

Ok, so I'm being pessimistic you say? Well this weekend I hit two of these famous "antique markets" and well, I saw barely ANY furniture. So now my quest is to hit the more famous larger ones on the north side of Paris. It might be my only hope. My issue is two-fold really:

1. I just sold/gave away all my beloved pieces of furniture that were 100% me and I will not replace them with IKEA.

2. Aside from the taste of living alone in my last apartment (1 year), I have always lived in other peoples places/spaces and I need this apartment to be stamped with me. And that stamp does not include anything modern.

How can there not be a more classic furniture store here? Heavy solid wood with curves and shapes thick and sturdy. Nothing you build but something shaped into furniture, not crushed, smooshed and then laminated back together!!! Hell, even a Paris Pottery Barn would do! Honestly, half my shit came from there anyway.

There MUST BE a place. This will be my project/something to do. And believe you me, if there is such a place, I will HAVE to find it.

Ok. now breathe and exhale. haha. kidding.

Mapquest

2007-12-16T09:36:00.000-08:00

Today I did a citywide search for an ATM vestibule. You know those ones where you can actually Deposit money. THey have deposit slips, envelopes, etc. Well clearly the memo never reached Paris as after 8 different ATM's I gave up. Even the other banks didnt have them. How, then do people deposit money!!! Do people actually use live tellers to do this? Is this possible? I thought we had reached the future. lol. kidding, but seriously, it is near impossible for me to deposit money during the "bank hours" (9-5) as I work in the middle of nowhere and dont get home till 8pm. And now I am FORCED again to ask my boss to leave early.

And after last week, I was really trying not to ask these favors of her. So in my quest, I saw the Arc de Triumph, went further into the 14th eme and St. Germain again. It was fun despite the near freezing temperatures. But just to give you an idea of how cold it is here, I'm in my WARMEST sweaters which means its freaking COLD!!! Cause even in NYC, I only pulled these out like two winters ago.

What I found nice about Sunday was that hardly anyone was out. Even though the city was packed yesterday and the holidays approach. So I wandered without fighting for space. And I'm starting to even memorize the metro grid. Slowly but surely.

And now back to your own lives.

Thanks for tuning in.
xoxo
Anna Lisa

Saturday Afternoon

2007-12-15T02:21:00.001-08:00

I have been trying to think of a way to explain last week. Essentially it all boiled down to first impressions.

It was very important for me to make a good first impression on my boss. Especially since she just returned from a conference with all my old coworkers and bosses and I knew they told her how lucky she was to have me. So I knew I had to fulfill these statements with actions that proved it.

Anyway, at the beginning of the job I jumped right on board to the middle of preparations for a huge "workout" where tons of doctors and engineers from our other global sites come to watch the doctor’s work on their software and evaluate it. So I had to make these tasks for them to complete on the software.

I won’t even discuss how challenging that became especially since it was soo last minute. (there was almost another post on the lack of time management skills in France, but I want to give them another shot before I conclude they are awful at it)

So I thought I printed out enough sheets for each doctor and I wasn’t even clear on the number of doctors coming and my boss was so busy all the time that, despite my efforts to corner her and go over my work, I couldn’t get to show her.

So I was going to try again early the morning before the event. But at the last minute I was put in charge of escorting the Budapest team (four young funny engineers) from the hotel (they stayed in the same one as me) to the site via the metro/scnr/shuttle etc. They hadn't been there before so I was to help them. Anyway, as nice as they were, they completely ignored the time situation. And I thought the French were bad, but clearly in Budapest, keeping to a schedule means nothing.

So this made me over 45 minutes late and of course I missed the opportunity to go over my work with my boss.

And so as you can imagine...by the time I showed up, my boss was in a complete Panic and it was all my fault. She couldn’t figure out my prints and she was rushing around and panicking IN French which I couldn’t understand. The Budapest team clearly saw my face and read how upset I was. I tried to help fix the situation but ended up just keeping quiet and letting her sort it out. Ahhhh. Anyway, when she finally talked to me, I felt awful and thought I let her down and it was only my first week. I actually excused myself to the bathroom and had a small cry. I couldn’t even believe I was crying because its only work and normally I didn't take work so strongly but maybe I was just homesick. Who knows?

I think the most difficult thing is that my boss is really such a terrific person in life and at work that its those type of people you hate to let down. She has done so much for me that I didn't want to disappoint her. So now I will just prove myself via some other way to make up for it. I hope she will see better work from me.

Anyway...in between the two days of this meeting were fabulous dinners and outings that I should mention. I am starting to see a bit of Paris! Thursday nite was this outing with just the engineers and I went along.

Usually it’s about 10 of them who go out often to a different bar and this time more than 20 people showed. I believe we took over the entire bar. I attempted to order a José cuervo margarita and was handed a glass with lemon juice and some extremely cheap tequila and about 3 gallons of triple sec. It was awful. So I asked around to coworkers and most of them agreed they have never seen Jose Cuervo in Paris before. So I'm not sure if they weren’t looking or really its not here. Also, triple sec should be banned as a mixer in general. I think it’s a scam. And bars should be given Contreiu (sp?) and/or grand mariner just for opening! But the group is really close and seem to enjoy each other both in and outside of work. This is a phenomenon I haven’t really experienced from my last job so it was very exciting.

Also, there is this cute German who I have met and been talking to. I haven’t quite put my finger on it but he reminds me of someone. He seems to me very much like the poet I dated and after that experience I would be cautious to again face this type of guy. He has so many personality traits like the poet. And I think he was being flirtatious but I can't really tell.

Actually the nite of the soiree, I started to feel quite sick (from the smoke I think) as well as nervous with the language barrier and couldn’t wait to get home. Plus I didn't want to miss the last metro home cause cab's here are difficult to find so I kinda rushed out but honestly, I need to learn the language. Even with people speaking English, in a crowded bar, with their French accents, it was near impossible to speak to people. The German actually had the easiest accent to understand but I was running out of stuff to talk about cause I was so tired.

So I rushed out, took verbal instructions on the location of the metro and somehow found it and somehow made the last one and somehow made it home! and somehow got enough sleep to be alive at work on friday. Today I am invited to another soiree of the boyfriend of the woman I met in the ATAC grocery store. I'm still debating whether or not to go.

Pic: Finally signed on the apartment! Here is one of THREE balcony views out the french doors....oh la la

there will be good days and bad

2007-12-13T16:06:00.000-08:00

today was hard
thats all i can manage right now

I dont hate you

2007-12-10T11:28:00.000-08:00

But you know who you are. You know that I said if you did not show at my party then an entire year would go by without me speaking to you. And I think you might be reading my blog (i hope). Well it sucked not having you there. But I will say this, you played a PIVOTAL role in a lot of areas of my life which would have turned most people running for the hills...and so I try to remain positive. But still, I didn't get to meet your man. I didnt get to give you back your blackberry. And most importantly, I didnt get to say goodbye to you.

I went to see your friend on sunday. I was invited over for lasagna. He was BEYOND gracious and accomidating to the fact that I was allergic to the main ingrediant. His partner even created and non-cheese one just for me. The dinner was as one would expect from our dear gay fellows as to the "nines". Emmaculately detailed down to the embroidered napkins. I felt, as I do in dinners like this, like white trash. But everyone was nice, and there were only but a few dead angry silences. I loved their floors. And a few pieces of furniture. Their gayboy friend offered me up his popout oven. I am still trying to figure that out.

But all in all, the nite made me miss you. And made me mad all over again. But mostly, it made me miss you.

Summary of Changes

2007-12-09T05:26:00.000-08:00

Below is a list of observations. I have been in Paris now for one week and these are the things I have noticed:

1. You must weight all veggies on the crazy scale system which only contains tiny pictures of whatever possible veggie you picked up. This means that there is more than one type of green grape. And the taste is insanely sweet, even for me. All this must happen before you get to the register.
2. Most registers still have a total in "francs" which is usually seriuosly high so do not confuse this as your total in euros which is next to it.
3. Bananas taste different
4. At work, people actually convene and chat at the coffee vending machine. Incidentally this would be a great place to really know your french.
5. Do not expect your female coworkers to get to know you. You will be lucky if you even get them to awknowledge you.
6. Paris is just as busy as nyc. There is little room for relaxation. People are always busy.
7. There is no soft toilet paper (so far)
8. Whether you like it or not, most sites (google, yahoo, even blogger) will force you to view the french version of their sites. And then you try to force back the english site, you are directed to the UK.
9. You cannot watch the full episodes of all your shows because they are "not available in this area" on NBC, CWTV and ABC.
10. Bring LOTS of cash with you and exchange it very soon after you arrive as you can buy nothing here without a french bank account. NOTHING. And you cant even put money into it unless its a transfer of funds and if you think you are gonna transfer funds from your US bank account, think again cause they will charge you a LOT for this transfer.
11. On a brighter note, French tv is not shy. Prepare to openly see boobs, butts, gay love, curse words, and this will happen any time of the day or nite and on any channel in commercials, shows, anything. Most of the normal programming is american shows dubbed in french.
12. the blogger spellcheck does NOT work here. dammit. sorry for the mistakes.

If you can laugh at all the above, you will be fine. The city more than makes up for all the insanity the nonspeaker goes through. more than...

Thats how I feel this sunday. And now I must nap.

First Saturday

2007-12-08T06:36:00.000-08:00

Pic: strange opera singing clown lady enters store on stilts and cut line at register.

The main thing to know about today is that it’s FREEZING cold both outside and even in this little room. AND I have the little heating unit on. The bathroom is quite warm so I'm thinking of camping out in there a bit but for now I have blankets and layers on.

I forced my body today into my tightest black "skinny" jeans from the Gap. It was quite the force but I made it. lol. So then I went to see my very SECOND apartment. This one TOPPED the first by OCEANS of difference. And the price was perfect. It is on the 5th floor with a "lift" (elevator). It’s got a BALCONY which can be accessed by NOT ONE but three sets of French doors. It’s incredible. The kitchen is big, needs appliances. When you rent an "unfurnished" apartment in Paris, there are no appliances. But honestly, I don’t care. Cooking is not my main thing. So I met the owner and his brother and we chatted in the little French I know. I think I made a decent impression. I just hope they choose me. Christine translated after the appointment that they have a few people but they said to her that I made a good impression. Apparently they stressed that their decision making is more about your character than all the other details.

So the next stop was back to "darty" that insane PC Richards type store which is in a mall where I attempted to buy a phone card for 5 hours and they gave me one for 5 minutes. This time I took my friend to translate and see where I went wrong. Apparently there was mis communication but the fact remained, I was screwed out of 30 euros (not horrible) and I would not be using the phone to make any calls because buying more minutes cost too much. However, the phone can RECIEVE calls from anyone so Christine can call me no problem. So suddenly we heard this opera singing and I turn around and these two people on stilts are in the hall of this mall all dressed up and walking around singing to everyone. Then this one woman enters the store, goes right up to the very busy register and starts singing right in people’s faces and not one person working at the store seemed to care. It was hilarious. She just walked around all over, cut in line and pushed her way through while singing opera and walking on stilts. I had my camera in hand so I was able to snap a pic of this insanity! And of course street performance is not new to me being from NYC but I found it interesting that she could cut the line like that and nobody seemed annoyed that she was interrupting their purchase at the register. haha

Pic: another view of lady

Day whatever, i lost track

2007-12-06T12:52:00.000-08:00

Today at work (which was day 2 of work) I learned that they really weren’t joking with me when they said I would get to travel. Apparently I will. I still am not clear where to but I know there will be travel. And I will probably be travelin with that bright eyed red head who is really really nice.

I also learned that there is no use stocking up your fridge with anything cause you may come home to an apartment with no electricity! And that BRAND spankin new Jamon you picked out is now trash so money wasted!#$*(%)( damnit

On the bright side, I got a call from my friend the real estate American chick about yet ANOTHER apartment. It kills me since SHE was the one who drove home last night that I should really wait on finding something it’s just too soon. So I get a call and she goes on and on about how great this apartment is. There is even a balcony which should NOT be confused with a "terrace" which you can actually walk on, but I have yet to see it or figure out how "great" it really is. I will say this though, I mappy.fr'd and google'd it and threw on that aerial photo and my friends, check it OUT....TREE LINED BLOCK!!! that is HUGE for me. Seriously, I used to walk a block out of my way on the way too work in NYC JUST because 69th st had nice trees to walk by. I love LOVE LOVE tree-lined. you have no idea. just sit down, you don’t get it! TREE's PEOPLE. big ones...ok here’s the shot, look and see

Pic: clearly obviously the tree's people! Pay ATTENTION. There’s like four rows of them.

Ok so tonight I met this Canadian girl in the store. I attempted to ask her if I was buying lotion or body wash and she realized how badly I was murdering the language and spared me the death by letting me speak English. Then we got to talking, she works here for an international relocation program (not the one helping me) and she has a French boyfriend. I got nosey and asked her how long it took to meet him but then I found out she met him long before she arrived (which was 5 months ago) so her French was already great before she came. Lucky BIOTCH!!!

I had SO many opportunities to practice my French today but I got very involved with the job and there were these conference calls to Budapest which is all in English so I get all into it and the multitasking is INSANITY and so I got on an English roll. lol. but I will make a solid effort tomorrow to speak french. meanwhile, tomorrow, im told I will be FORMERLY introduced to an entire ROOM FULL of engineers during a party they plan to have (the party is not for me), but anyway, I need the perfect outfit cause I think that hottie I saw the first day of work is one of them. I didn’t see him today dammit.

Ok. I think im running the dishwasher but one can never be sure, so I must be off to watch it explode.

BONSOIR

A day of Courbet

2007-12-05T10:31:00.000-08:00

My awesome boss gave me the day off so that I could go open a bank account which was shockingly easy. Actually this housing service sent along a person to help me but the banker spoke English so I'm not sure why I even needed her help!

Then I went to get a basic "sim" card for my euro phone. It will be a while before I get a check book so I needed the card in the meantime. It’s simply a small card with minutes on it that you pay for. I wanted a 1 hour card which is usually 15 euros. I was sent to a place called "Darty" which reminds me of a PC Richards really. Honestly, I had bought these before, in Belgium, Swissy land, Spain and even in France and never had to go through the "process" I went through today. They needed my passport; they typed my name into a computer system. For a while I thought I had somehow asked for an entire phone but I did show them I had one and just needed a card. FINALLY after 45 minutes (25 min longer than setting up a bank account) I received a 5 hour card for 20 euros. Apparently that’s the minimum number of hours. Or apparently I'm a big sucker. Who knows, but at least I can use my phone now. Of course the entire thing is in French and I keep getting messages which I don’t understand. Probably "this phone will explode the next time you use it"
lol.

Ok so the apartment search came to a bolting HAULT tonight when I crunched the numbers for the third time and realized this amazing one of kind place I found was well over 30% of my monthly net pay (the recommend percentage not to EXCEED). That’s WAY too much. Am I insane? Yes, yes I am. But I have signed nothing so I'm still capable of walking out. I think the beauty of the apartment, location, etc clouded my brain for a few seconds, but now I'm ok. I seriously need to consider all my expenses. And living there will not allow me.
Just to give you an idea:

it was in the HEART of St. Germaine on a very lively block with coffee shops, restaurants, boutiques, grocery
totally renovated with new everything: washer/dryer, dishwasher, kitchen, bathroom
6th floor walk up in the back of the building (so away from the noise)
but yes, no elevator but apparently finding a building with one is like winning the lotto so I gave up that thought already
a true one bedroom
50 square meters (538 square feet) which is huge for just me.
all for 1600/month

Yes, the dream is alive but just recently, it has died. Its dead, let it go..
LET IT GO...

but now for the highlight of the day. I will begin this section with a quote:

"Since I must always be an exception to the general rule in everything and everywhere I am going to pursue my destiny" Gustave Courbet

And if not for his work, this statement alone, said in the 1800's, perfectly describes how I feel about myself now and forever including childhood, possibly embryonic-hood and adulthood and not excluding old-hood and death and afterlife if such a thing exists. even as an ALIEN, I will live by this rule. uhh where were we?

...who is Courbet you asked? SHAME SHAME ON YOUR FOR NOT KNOWING!!

He's seriously a crazy painter from the 1800's. Honestly, it’s his portraits and portrayal of people where his talents really came alive. He did attempt landscapes and I have to say, not too impressed (yes, I realize im absolutely no one)
but anyway, I could sit in front of his paintings all day (except the museum was crowded today so no place to sit), I waited 45 minutes in a line which apparently was a bag check line. They hardly glanced into my bag at all which made the need for the line completely useless and what killed me after I found out it was just a bag check was they broke us up into three lines actually (the non ticket holders, the ticket holders and then one I couldn’t figure out at all, probably members) but why do that for just the bag check. Aren't we all equal status when it comes to bag check? Are the ticket holder’s bags nicer? better, require more thought to look thru. So THEN you go inside and into another line for the tickets. I was taken to the front of a line that just started which was cool. Then I walked through a mad MAD crowd of ancient (yet dressed perfectly) French women and students and a few tourists. I will see that the palace itself is guarded by really mean looking statues and sculptures of angry men and snakes

Pic: I didn’t bring my camera so this is from the web but it’s the palace from above, there is a also another palace across the street called the "le petit palace".

And once you are inside, it certainly doesn’t seem like you are in a palace, I think they are hiding the palace behind the museum. But its soo damn big that I know I didn't even come close to covering the entirety of the place, I was probably in the maids quarters at best or the dogs quarters....lol speaking of smelly things...my hotel lobby suddenly this morning smells like the bathroom at port authority. I do not understand why. And no one seems phased by this at the desk. It’s very odd.

back to work tomorrow.
oye vey!

PS. I was JUST invited to my first Parisian dinner party and you will NEVER EVER guess what the host is serving (please sit down):

LASAGNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is my WORST nightmare come true!! The ONE CHEESE MY BODY cannot even LOOK AT...the allergy of a lifetime, and they are serving this as the main course!! I might literally die. Please stand up again.

First Day of Work

2007-12-04T11:36:00.000-08:00

As most of you know, me and "sweat" are like passionate lovers that are always doing it...so you can imagine that after putting on like a gallon of CLINICAL strength secret this morning in preparation for my nerves on the first day of work, i walk into an office that is seriously, the hottest place on the face of the earth. I almost died. And I'm wearing the perfect combination of button down shirt with short sleeve sweater over it so that if i DO sweat, then the sweat marks are hidden but lets face it people...this was unmanageable!!!! COME ON!! i mean this is an office with about 200 computers, how could they possibly keep it that hot!

well that was my big event of the morning. Train ride was fairly easy and the amount of cute boys made it all that much more exciting. My office mates are, well, office mates. One bright eyed red head and another skinny tall looking olive skin frenchy who seems to share my sentiment of him. he's very quiet and we dont say much. you have to YANK information from him so mostly i spoke with the red head.

It was a FEAT to keep my eyes open as the jet lag dared to enter my body during the morning...I had three cups of steaming cappucino but nothing worked, i was falling asleep on the job, thankfully the bosslady left the office for a long time. what i find interesting is that the red head and myself are apparently at the same level of jobs but on thursday I'm moving to an office which will house just myself and the bosslady. I dont know if that is a female/male thing. cause then the two boys will be left in an office with one other dude apparently....so midday i was told i was not even supposed to be on the premisis as i had not yet had my "physical exam" which essentially meant I could not "legally" work. A few people came in and from what i gathered, i could NOT get hurt. I was too tired to even get up so I didnt think that would be an issue.

Then came lunch....thank GOD, i was STARVING...i needed food. I was handed a lunch ticket which would provide free lunch until i got some card. i had HIGHLY anticipated what lunch would be like in France....i heard there were no sandwiches at all. and pretty much for the last 8 years I have been eating "sandwiches" everyday for lunch....So we enter the lunch/cafeteria/restuarant and here are my findings:

plates of jamon
plates of cheese
pizza
a rotisseri with chicken (on and off bone)
some main courses (veggie, rice looking thing, potatoes and green beans
tomatoes
green cucumber salad type thing
TONS of desserts
some odds and ends

i got the boneless chicken
what resembled zuccini
some tomatoes
and green cucumber thing

at the check out i was asked if i wanted "coffee".
i just said Yes cause i didnt want to feel left out of whatever that meant

the bread situation is plentiful, you are offered bread everywhere, before and after you go through check out. i think its a freebee.

so it took me about 20 minutes to find bosslady and crew, but i did. after you drop your tray in the belt thingy and think you are walking out, you are not, you walk right into an almost FORCED coffee shop, standing room only with fresh cappuccino. that explained the coffee situation. but i did notice that i was the only one who added sugar to mine. im not quite ready for the strength of straight shots of espresso.

ohhh that reminds me of one thing that happened early in the AM. actually right when i arrived and bosslady took me to get coffee which was simply a coffee vending machine. we were met there by about 4 other guys and after all the coffee was dished out, it was the most AWKWARD silence on earth. even bosslady didn't seem to possess the skills with an icebreaker...i was silent simply because I had no idea who was english speaking and I didnt want anyone to know i couldnt speak french. i assume this embarrasment will last for some time...i have yet to hear about my french lessons although i am cc'd on a email to the lady who will teach me....where is SHE!!! damn her.

i NEEEEED lessons

Pic: Micro kitchen, room enough only for my beloved peanut butter. ps, im running low so feel free to hit costco and send more...

anyway, the end of the day brought upon two cuties who came to the office, one who heavy eye contact was made. in the midst of conversation, i heard red head tell him i was from nyc and i heard him sound intrigued!!! he also later helped me realize that the bus had, in fact, stopped to let us all out at the train station and i should get off. i was seriously lost. the driver did NOT stop at the same place as pick up. He then waited outside the bus and told me to follow the others to the station. Since he wasnt going, I am assuming he lives in Versaille. Or near it. Of course I cannot remember his name.

The one difficult thing today was figuring out the time. I had this premeditated french ready to ask people the time but two challenges occured:

1. instead of asking what time it is, my nerves forced me to ask what the weather is like...lol

2. even if i got the time, how could i get anyone to say it slow enough for me to translate properly.

I made the red head repeat something after lunch which i finally understood to mean "how did you like lunch" but he kept asking about the canteen, i didnt even get that. so i told him it was "nice".

i love letting people laugh at my french. its so cute.

I'M LIANG!!!
that will only make sense to people who worked at my last job and new this cute little chinese fellow who said the funniest things ever in his learning english phase. kept us all laughing all day all nite and even now.

finally and not to go unnoticed. i dont think that my workday will ever be the same. i assure you people of the United states, the "french" at my job are workaholics. I was told that due to the ties to the US, they often stay very late and roll in late as well.

but goodbye are the days when 5pm seemed like the end of life. my only help is that the last shuttle back to paris is 7:30pm and i BARELY made that tonight.

but i think this job will be great. i am very excited about being part of something big and signifigant*

*due to the nature of the blog and blogging in general, i simply cannot disclose details about the job, but lets just say its in the healthcare field.

side notes day three:
-there is no soft toilet paper in paris, prepare to chaffe
-there is no winter in paris, prepare to sweat
-when/if it does ever snow, apparently paris goes into complete panic, the city literally shuts down, i think there are maybe two snowplows TOTAL in the entire city, so im told anyway.

landed down

2007-12-02T05:14:00.000-08:00

Pic: View out microstudio window. 6th floor. Looking out to something. i'll let you know as soon as i figure it out. it says Galerie Gaite if that means anything. And now to the post:

Its a cold, rainy, overcast day but I am safely in my hotel room which will forever be referred to as the "micro studio" (MUCH MUCH smaller than seen on the interwebs) and alive. My baggage even made it. I was shocked at how together my bags were when they rode down the baggage belt thing at the airport. One after the other in a very nice and neat line. Of course me trying to lift and carry all four of them off the belt and onto the airport cart required some fast and tricky skills. No one was injured thankfully.

Some memorable moments on the plane, my favorte line was from the PILOT himself as we approached Paris "Well apparently we are now landing, so buckle up" as if he was just simply a stray passenger!

I will say that flying American Airlines has every bit of stigma you can imagine. It might as well have been a flight to Cleveland...they barely spoke french, even the french was spoken with as little effort as possible. There was very little sleep due to excitment/nervousness/etc. I had fully anticipated my bags to be headed to Bangladesh and I would never see my belongings again.

Of course, the one carry on I had was so stuffed with my life that it took three men to shove it into an overhead bin and just as many to get it out. I almost broke the plane. lol.

And then there was the key moment when you are ready to exit customs and enter the world of france when RIGHT in the doorway of this opening (with everyone watching), I slammed the cart into the side and 1 of my 4 giant bags went FLYING out into France!!! haha. It was hilarious. And embarrasing and all that good kinda stuff.

My driver Dominique was awesome, and even though I was terribly sleep deprived, I appreciated him driving me all over Paris on a mini tour before going to my hotel. He spoke English but REALLY fast english so I had to use this super non-sleep power to concentrate on his words and understand him. He drove me by the grand palace, the champs, the arc de triumph, Sarkozys house, the Musee de Orsay, Louvre, a few squares, embassy's and finally made his way to the hotel. I gave him a nice tip.

Ok so then skipping thru the naps, internet set up, showers, etc, I then ventured out for food and walked into this corner bistro thing and holy crap were there about a BILLION hot french men. It was like an ad for Abercrombie. I swear I thought I had walked into the wrong place and it was totally one of those music stops everyone turns moments. I didnt know what to do. I walked back to the smoking section and the bartender (also hot) leaned in, I could only say "Je n'pas parle francais" to which he very sincerely said "of course you can speak english". So there you go, first encounter and they were nice. So far though, I have had two encounters which predict many more where by I start out in my premeditated french and the return is this long and fast french response of which I cannot even come close to understanding. haha.

The day is still cold.

I just skyped my mom and now chichi. Love the skype. Gotta have the skype. Ps. for those of you not in the know....skype is this free internet service where you can essentially video (if you have a webcam) or not video call anyone else in the world who also has skype for free. So within 4 hours of landing in Paris, i was starring at my mom and stepdad in the background in their little southern MAISON chatting about the flight. Very very cool especially considering I dont have a phone yet. I was going to hunt around for one today but its too cold and windy.

I really want to get food. I'm going to hunt down the grocery store. I think there is one close by.

More soon!!!

I havent moved yet

2007-08-21T19:18:00.000-07:00

Hi, I have not yet moved to Paris but I believe this blog is ready. For now, I'm still on my superplanb blog. But check back in November for the big FIRST PARIS POST!!! see you there.

AnnaLisa