Wow. I never knew travel could be so amazing. I arrived in Paris after a teary lyonnais goodbye to check in at CDG Airport. I printed off my tickets at the self-checkin station to have a short, fat, balding man patronisingly tell me in his british accent to join the back of a huge cue. I flung my boarding pass in his face, nonchalantly (yet politely) telling him that I am, actually, flying business class. Aparently huge backpacks don't scream ''luxury travel''.
When I got to the Admirals Lounge in CDG, I started almost immediately to stuff myself stupid (it being 2pm and me not having had breakfast yet) on free sandwitches, free wine and free, well, everything, making two bathroom calls just because the bathroom was bigger than my entire appartment. Now this kind of travel, I could get used to.
I regretted my gorging when I was presented with a wonderful prawn dish on the flight to London. I chuffed through it like the little train engine who could. It was brilliant. And now, in the Heathrow gallery lounge, I am faced with an unending array of wines, liquors, chocolates, icecreams and warm meals. They are going to have to roll me off the plane!! (you know what, its my birthday, I want to take advantage)
Top that all off with seeing the Eiffel Tower, London Eye and a birds-eye view of Times Square at night... well... I'd call that a definite win!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Baggages, of all shapes and sizes
Today, I started to pack my bags, faire mes baggages.
I don't want to leave Lyon. I will miss France so much it hurts already. I don't want it to be sunday, because it will hurt more. There will be people to see me off at the train station, and I will cry. There will be no-one to pick me up from the airport (all my friends are going away for the long weekend in the USA) and I think that will make me cry too.
My friends will help me with my luggage here in France, to get them down the stone steps of my apartment and onto the train at Gare Part-Dieu. I will drag my luggage all over New York, onto the bus to Grand Central, onto the metro with one change and up the stairs at my hostel on the upper west side alone.
The thought of being alone, lost and detatched in such a huge city is a strangely seducing thought, and the gypsy half of my brain finds this life of arriving into the unknown very attractive. The housewife part of my brain does not. It wants to curl up on the couch with a book and a bottle of wine and a shoulder to cry on. The housewife part of my brain wants to be held and kissed while I sob. The gypsy part of my brain wants to talk to no-one, and just wander, and have no connections, no distractions - it wants to be completely free. Completely.
I think the two will never compromise.
I don't want to leave Lyon. I will miss France so much it hurts already. I don't want it to be sunday, because it will hurt more. There will be people to see me off at the train station, and I will cry. There will be no-one to pick me up from the airport (all my friends are going away for the long weekend in the USA) and I think that will make me cry too.
My friends will help me with my luggage here in France, to get them down the stone steps of my apartment and onto the train at Gare Part-Dieu. I will drag my luggage all over New York, onto the bus to Grand Central, onto the metro with one change and up the stairs at my hostel on the upper west side alone.
The thought of being alone, lost and detatched in such a huge city is a strangely seducing thought, and the gypsy half of my brain finds this life of arriving into the unknown very attractive. The housewife part of my brain does not. It wants to curl up on the couch with a book and a bottle of wine and a shoulder to cry on. The housewife part of my brain wants to be held and kissed while I sob. The gypsy part of my brain wants to talk to no-one, and just wander, and have no connections, no distractions - it wants to be completely free. Completely.
I think the two will never compromise.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
No sugar in my tea.
It's times like right now that lead me to believe that : bad things only come in multiples.
It all started with a cut finger and a tomato. Because tomato hurts when it comes in contact with a cut finger.
Then, there was my handbag, getting her revenge on me by leaving a huge gash at the back of my knee.
After that my computer broke. I thought it was going to be O.K. but only now do I realise that everything for my trip to the U.S.A is salvagable except my visa-waiver form which is not on my email, like I previously thought. Not to mention that I can't call international now, because the computer I am using does not have a microphone, which means no skype to sort out my computer problems... wow.
I called Dell today to see what they thought. I can't call Dell Australia because, well, I'm not in Australia. So I called Dell France only to find out they can't do anything untill I convert my Australian service tag to a European service tag. It takes 2 working days, and it's a long weekend in France.
So, I went to a computer store today only to be told that it will take one week for them to find what is wrong with my computer, which, alone will cost €36. After that, I can get it fixed for around, oh, just say, €500 - if it's a new screen that I need. Now, I'm the opposite of computer-geek, I'm a total computer dumbass - I have no idea. However, I'm O.K. at maths, and I know that a new screen for my computer costs around €100. Where the other €400 is coming from, I have no idea.
To top it all off, my entire bathroom is clogged up - no showers of sink-usage for another day. Great.
Doesn't help that I'm overly weepy about leaving France as it is, without any extra stress.
I'm in the kind of headspace that leads me to take out the sugar, open it, close it and put it away again without putting any sugar in my tea.
I'm exhausted. Completely. And I still have to go to work and to dinner.
It all started with a cut finger and a tomato. Because tomato hurts when it comes in contact with a cut finger.
Then, there was my handbag, getting her revenge on me by leaving a huge gash at the back of my knee.
After that my computer broke. I thought it was going to be O.K. but only now do I realise that everything for my trip to the U.S.A is salvagable except my visa-waiver form which is not on my email, like I previously thought. Not to mention that I can't call international now, because the computer I am using does not have a microphone, which means no skype to sort out my computer problems... wow.
I called Dell today to see what they thought. I can't call Dell Australia because, well, I'm not in Australia. So I called Dell France only to find out they can't do anything untill I convert my Australian service tag to a European service tag. It takes 2 working days, and it's a long weekend in France.
So, I went to a computer store today only to be told that it will take one week for them to find what is wrong with my computer, which, alone will cost €36. After that, I can get it fixed for around, oh, just say, €500 - if it's a new screen that I need. Now, I'm the opposite of computer-geek, I'm a total computer dumbass - I have no idea. However, I'm O.K. at maths, and I know that a new screen for my computer costs around €100. Where the other €400 is coming from, I have no idea.
To top it all off, my entire bathroom is clogged up - no showers of sink-usage for another day. Great.
Doesn't help that I'm overly weepy about leaving France as it is, without any extra stress.
I'm in the kind of headspace that leads me to take out the sugar, open it, close it and put it away again without putting any sugar in my tea.
I'm exhausted. Completely. And I still have to go to work and to dinner.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Advice; it's what we ask when we know the answer but wish we didn't
As it draws to a close, I've been thinking about my time in France. It's been an adventure, that's for sure. It's definately had it's highs and definately had it's lows.
Now, from the corny nature of my first three sentances, you can see my writing has kind of gone down hill right now.
I've had a few moments of creativity when it comes to sketching, drawing and painting. Last night, I watched a lecture from the University of Texas, Austin, about Frida Khalo, which really got my visually creative juices going.
I've had moments when I painted day and night, although there have been not too many of them.
However, my writing has suffered extremely. I haven't written anything good since I was in New Jersey in December, during my last 24 hours in America, and I wrote a bit in Montreal, though nothing earth-shattering.
I've been thinking about it, thinking about what I can do to get my literary juices going. I used to think that I can only write when I'm extremely depressed. On closer inspection, I decided this to be false, I wrote a lot when I was neither depressed nor happy, and have written a lot when I was exceedingly happy. (I was very happy to discover this as I enjoy not being extremely depressed).
I then tested the theory that I only write well when I'm expecting something very very bad or very very good - when I'm sure despite having no reason to be sure. Which explains a lot, because I am very confused right now and, ipso facto, have not been writing.
Another theory is that I've been mixing too many languages, and therefore, I havent been able to work well with words in one language alone. Although, that doesn't really prove a satisfying theory.
Perhaps, it's that I'm no longer in an academic environment.
Whatever it is, I would like it to stop. I want to be creative again. Not being creative is making me feel rather dull.
Now, from the corny nature of my first three sentances, you can see my writing has kind of gone down hill right now.
I've had a few moments of creativity when it comes to sketching, drawing and painting. Last night, I watched a lecture from the University of Texas, Austin, about Frida Khalo, which really got my visually creative juices going.
I've had moments when I painted day and night, although there have been not too many of them.
However, my writing has suffered extremely. I haven't written anything good since I was in New Jersey in December, during my last 24 hours in America, and I wrote a bit in Montreal, though nothing earth-shattering.
I've been thinking about it, thinking about what I can do to get my literary juices going. I used to think that I can only write when I'm extremely depressed. On closer inspection, I decided this to be false, I wrote a lot when I was neither depressed nor happy, and have written a lot when I was exceedingly happy. (I was very happy to discover this as I enjoy not being extremely depressed).
I then tested the theory that I only write well when I'm expecting something very very bad or very very good - when I'm sure despite having no reason to be sure. Which explains a lot, because I am very confused right now and, ipso facto, have not been writing.
Another theory is that I've been mixing too many languages, and therefore, I havent been able to work well with words in one language alone. Although, that doesn't really prove a satisfying theory.
Perhaps, it's that I'm no longer in an academic environment.
Whatever it is, I would like it to stop. I want to be creative again. Not being creative is making me feel rather dull.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Rain, rain, go away.... come again in 2 and a half weeks...
It's raining like crazy here, and, according to theweatherchannel.com, it will keep raining for the next five days.
I'm still sick, coughing and all phlegmy, (not that you needed to know) but the shoe-soaking weather is not helping... not at all. And I had a horrible dream last night which really shook me up. Oh, and I'm broke again, but what's new?
I have done some organising for my USA/Canada trip coming up, but not much... I need to make some decisions. However, I have done quite a bit more organising for my Europe trip immediately after. My wonderful dad bought me a ticket from Geneva to Warsaw, which means I'm going to see my cousins and maybe even see Warsaw, if I decide to spend a night there.
Lately, I've been having trouble making decisions, in what seems like almost all areas of my life; travel, work, study, personal life, food etc. If I wasn't so broke, I'd get myself some tarot cards to help make some of these pressing decisions which I can't seem to do!
It's strange, I've always been very decision-orientated and quick to know what I want. I seem to be changing in my old age (birthday coming up). And even though I've not yet hit 21, I feel a lot older than that. In a good way, but also in a bad way. I feel I've missed out on being young and stupid, but I know that many people (mostly my parents) will think of my propensity for doing things with a high risk of catastrophe and argue that I have, in fact, not grown up at all and in reality, stayed 15 for the last six years.
So, have I grown up or not? I still have no idea. While friends of mine are writing theses, getting degrees, starting careers, getting engaged and having babies, I realise I'm not even close. I graduated high school four years ago and I'm nowhere near a degree, let alone a career, I'm not going to get engaged soon, and I'm definately not planning on having a baby yet. I always thought I had plenty of time for this - I thought I'd have all that sorted at 25; degree, career, husband, baby. But that's in four years!! Four years does not seem enough time for all that, and I think that's what scares me the most. I always thought all this travelling and this crazy life I have was just to get it out of my system so I could settle down early.
When did I turn 20? And how the hell am I almost 21? And I don't even want to think about what I will be like before I actually turn 25, or even 30!!
And even though I feel older than I am, I feel I haven't accomplished anything that one is meant to accomplish in life, like a serious relationship, or a real job, or an education. I'm not even close.
Just give me my age-defying face-cream and book me in for my botox, I'm having a mid-life crisis at 21!
I'm still sick, coughing and all phlegmy, (not that you needed to know) but the shoe-soaking weather is not helping... not at all. And I had a horrible dream last night which really shook me up. Oh, and I'm broke again, but what's new?
I have done some organising for my USA/Canada trip coming up, but not much... I need to make some decisions. However, I have done quite a bit more organising for my Europe trip immediately after. My wonderful dad bought me a ticket from Geneva to Warsaw, which means I'm going to see my cousins and maybe even see Warsaw, if I decide to spend a night there.
Lately, I've been having trouble making decisions, in what seems like almost all areas of my life; travel, work, study, personal life, food etc. If I wasn't so broke, I'd get myself some tarot cards to help make some of these pressing decisions which I can't seem to do!
It's strange, I've always been very decision-orientated and quick to know what I want. I seem to be changing in my old age (birthday coming up). And even though I've not yet hit 21, I feel a lot older than that. In a good way, but also in a bad way. I feel I've missed out on being young and stupid, but I know that many people (mostly my parents) will think of my propensity for doing things with a high risk of catastrophe and argue that I have, in fact, not grown up at all and in reality, stayed 15 for the last six years.
So, have I grown up or not? I still have no idea. While friends of mine are writing theses, getting degrees, starting careers, getting engaged and having babies, I realise I'm not even close. I graduated high school four years ago and I'm nowhere near a degree, let alone a career, I'm not going to get engaged soon, and I'm definately not planning on having a baby yet. I always thought I had plenty of time for this - I thought I'd have all that sorted at 25; degree, career, husband, baby. But that's in four years!! Four years does not seem enough time for all that, and I think that's what scares me the most. I always thought all this travelling and this crazy life I have was just to get it out of my system so I could settle down early.
When did I turn 20? And how the hell am I almost 21? And I don't even want to think about what I will be like before I actually turn 25, or even 30!!
And even though I feel older than I am, I feel I haven't accomplished anything that one is meant to accomplish in life, like a serious relationship, or a real job, or an education. I'm not even close.
Just give me my age-defying face-cream and book me in for my botox, I'm having a mid-life crisis at 21!
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