Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, July 03, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Music to my Mouth
TASTE the culture. Read more...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
So Long, Pine Trees
I thought 2 weeks away would be a detox, but when every meal is boiled in butter, slathered with cheese, served with wine, and followed by dessert, you really just want to nap all day. Now I'm back in Paris, and settling happily into my good old city routine of oatmeal, tabouli and beer.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Sunday, July 18, 2010
9 hours in Bordeaux
Had the day off, so I hopped a train to Bordeaux. 40 minutes later I was in an old little city with lots of colorful doors, and gardenous balconies. I rented a bike, and roamed around the city snapping photos, and searching for a pineapple pizza. I didn't find my pizza, but I did find myself a plate of delicious red curry, and a glass of lemonade. Later I found myself in a colorful african neighborhood. I passed a few grocery stores. Three in a row had hair extensions lining the walls. Trippy. Tried to see a movie, but they were all dubbed into French. Nothing's worse than when the lips don't match the sound. So I found a cozy bar, and poured through Kundera's "Identity". Once I finished I met some nice Parisians, but then I took a look at my watch, and had to power walk back to the train station. Caught my train with 15 seconds to spare. Good thing I power walked.
Monday, May 03, 2010
Trainspotting
I forgot my head phones, so instead of spending the 5 hour train ride from the Alps to Paris watching Dexter, I watched the window instead.
This is what it looked like.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Double Take
Upon seeing this photo, the eight year old French boy I take care of asked me
"Is that Michael Jackson?"
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Ch-ch-changes
I want to unpack.
I want to unpack so bad.
I love unpacking.
I love the feeling of taking familiar items, and giving them new, unfamiliar homes.
I have posters that have lived in Germany, California & Belgium, all on different walls, all with different neighbors.
I get to decide where they go next. I get to decide if they go up at all.
I neurotically can't wait to arrange my closet.
What will I fold?
Will I color code, arrange by sleeve length or by occasion?
I want to put my books on a shelf, next to the framed photos of Sarah and my sister.
The seashell with my name engraved, from that one girl's summer trip to the Philipines.
I really didn't like her, actually, but I found the so gesture impressively nice that I've kept it on display all these years.
I want to find homes for these items.
As well as two jars. One for flowers, and one for change.
I'd like to do all this, but I'm in a holding pattern.
Frances leaves Thursday night for the UK, & then I move in.
I move in, unpack, call Jonathan, call my Mom, use the internet to my heart's content.
I haven't had internet or a landline here.
It's been a funny feeling.
It completely warps my evening routine.
(which is probably a good thing, actually.)
I leave work, pass the tiny market on my way through the courtyard to my flat, picking up tomatoes, mozarella, whatever I'm low on, and then walk the 32 seconds past the market, to my door.
I tidy up, make sure my computer's charging, eat a yogurt.
Then I put my laptop into my bag, and walk the few streets over to Jardin C. Labouré, , where I can use the free wi-fi (which weirdly shuts down on MSN and Facebook). I like it there. I'd tried Champs de Mars a few times. But it's so big, and the tourists make me feel like I'm in some kind of theme park.
Also, I get asked to buy an eiffel tower key chain approximately once every six minutes.
Not cool.
So I go to Labouré. It's lovely there; so quiet, a real garden.
Then, either my computer starts to die, or the policeman signals the closing of the park.
I walk home, change, jumping jacks, downward dog, brush my teeth, swig of pelligrano, switch to reading light, read.
Asleep before midnight.
I feel so steril.
But that's not necessarily bad.
It's sort of refreshing.
Like mouth wash.
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