As we all know it, time travels on. And before you know it, you're 21 and jumping across 5 timezones in one week. My "birthday week" started in Lyon and ended in Santa Cruz, CA.
To be honest, I did not get totally drunk and crazy like most people do when they turn 21, (I can do that any day) but I think this short resume will prove that it was a birthday to be remembered for sure!
It all began in France last Saturday with coffee, fruit tartlettes and good company. It then graduated to a sushi dinner, Hagen Dazs icecream in the main square of Lyon, cocktails and champagne. A definite amazing start to birthday celebrations and a fantastic 'aurevoir' to France.
The next morning, I said a tearful goodbye at the Lyon Part Dieu station but was soon welcomed into the arms of the British Airways Paris business lounge. And, well, travelling has never been so luxurious. I must admit, I over-did it on the free food and free alcohol on the way, in both Paris and London, repeating my 'birthday flight' mantra of: "They will have to roll me off this plane!!"
Not to mention the fact that I got to see the Eiffel Tower, London Eye AND fly into New York at night in the one day! Oh, I must not forget the complimentary massage and facial in London!
Then, I had 2 days in New York, and, really, you can't go wrong there. On my first day, I took Manhattan for all it's worth, hiking from Riverside to the Upper East Side, from 96th to 40th. There was 5th Ave, there was St Patricks, there was window shopping and amazing food at the Barking Dog Cafe (as seen on Sex and the City... I read that on the menu... I've never seen a single episode of Sex and the City. I have to recommend the Blue Ribbon Museli.)
After this epic day of Manhattan by Foot... it was my actual birthday. Which started off at the Barking Dog (again - this time for blueberry buttermilk pancakes) and ended up sitting on a curb in New Jersey... go figure. So, after breakfast at the barking dog, I spent the late morning and early afternoon laying on the lawns at Central Park, and then browsing through the bookstore at the Metropolitain Museum of Art - because books and art AND New York - well, if you know me, you'd know I'd be on cloud nine.
After that I took a stressful (to say the least) cab ride to the station through Manhattan traffic. And then some metro, because I went to the wrong station. But, before you know it, I was in Seacaucus, New Jersey, having chatted with a lovely Dominican man on the train, waiting for the next train to Clifton. I met up with one of my oldest friends (oldest meaning - who I have known the longest), in Clifton and we stuffed ourselves rotten on Sushi and drank a bottle of wine each. And the waiters sang happy birthday to me... no waiter has ever sung happy birthday to me, especially while carrying a sundae with candles! After dinner, we dragged ourselves home for more wine, and some gin too. We sat on the porch talking until another friend drove past and took me to the Shannon Rose, an Irish pub in New Jersey. Before we even walked in, my heel got tangled in the seatbelt and I was hurled to the ground. Attacked by a Saab! A massive bruise still lingers on my left leg.
After I picked myself up (with a little help), there was, of course, more wine, some sangria and we finished it off with a round of vodka shots (because it was, in fact, a Polish birthday)... and we headed back. (In all fairness, it was 3am at this point). But, somewhere close to Garfield, NJ, the car broke down and we were stuck waiting for a cab for close to an hour, and that is how I ended my actual birthday sitting on a curb somewhere in New Jersey.
The next day started early, at 6:30 or 7, I think. All I know is that I didn't sleep at all, or if I did, it was for less than half an hour. We went back to pick up the car, which still wasnt starting, hiked to the closest mechanics (me in heels, of course!) to get a thingy (my car-parts knowledge is astounding) to re-start the battery to drive the car over and get it fixed properly. All I noticed is that heels and white cocktail dresses are not the most appropriate when trying to find a small-town mechanic somewhere in New Jersey. We were stuck in 'little Poland' for a few hours, so we aimlessly tried to find a Polish restaurant open for breakfast. There were none (apparently my people don't eat breakfast). So, instead, we got some Polish groceries and ate a pseudo-picnic on the side of the road. There is nothing better when you are stranded, exhausted with aching feet in the heat of summer than mint-apple juice. Nothing. Period.
When the car was ready, we headed to get Peruvian food for lunch. I have to admit, I've missed Ceviche while in Europe... missed it terribly.
The next few days flew by quickly in New Jersey. Those days involved some stresses, but most importantly, good food and good company, and before I knew it, I was running around Seacaucus station trying to find which track I needed to get to New York Pennsylvania Station. It was not easy, but I managed. I also managed to find the Shuttle Bus on 7th Ave/33rd St which got me to La Guardia. I checked in, I paid American Airlines' extortionate fee to check in luggage, and I settled down for the few hours that I needed to wait until I could board my flight to Chicago. Now, I dont know if it is common knowledge, but perhaps it should be; Airlines HATE me. There is not one flight with a major airline that I have been on in the last 3 years that was not delayed or cancelled or something. And well, we were stuck sitting on the tarmack in La Guardia for 40 minutes.
Now, 40 minutes is not that long, I understand. But when one only has 40 minutes to connect to one's San Francisco flight in Chicago; 40 minutes is vital. So, we landed at 7:53pm local time at the Chicago O'Hare airport and my plane was boarding at 7:55pm. By the time everyone got off the plane, it was 8:10pm and all I could do was sprint across the airport to my gate. I made it. But only just. All in all, I spent 32 minutes in Chicago. I landed in San Francisco, found Amy and Yusef (my wonderful hosts in California) and we drove back to Santa Cruz.
Today was the last day of a pleasant stretch of time I have refered to as my 'birthday week'. I lounged around a bit and spent hours getting grilled, toasted, baked and all round reddened by the sun on the beach. Then we went out for Sushi. And it was wonderful.
So I didn't get drunk and wake up in a strange parking lot wearing only half my clothes and one shoe. I didn't play 'kings' in a VIP vodka bar. I didn't organise a lavish party for my friends and spend hunderds on a dress. I spent 17 Euros on a dress and traversed through 3 countries, 5 timezones, 10 cities. I experienced the full range of sensations, from free massages to waiting for a cab on the side of the road. Looking back on it, I loved it, and I definately wish all my birthdays involved a crazy week during which, on many occasions, I laughed to myself and thought 'how did I get here' - but in a good way.
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Saturday, June 5, 2010
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.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
A short, perhaps premature, review
It was mid-November when I wrote my last '5 weeks left post'
Well, it's 5 weeks left again. But this time, 5 weeks in France, and this time, I'm not hysterical (yet).
In exactly 5 weeks, I'll be in a lovely, comfortable, business class seat somewhere over the Atlantic (and, after just having watched Titanic, the idea is a little strange). Actually, having just checked my itinerary, I'll only just have left England. But, no matter, I'll be comfortable, hopefully a little drunk, with a glass of sparkling white wine in my hand, no doubt (to numb the pain of leaving France and to dull the almost-certain panic-attack when faced with long-haul air-travel)
Also, I am glad to have just read that that unpronouncable Iclandic volcano has calmed down a bit for the moment, and will hopefully (knock on wood) not re-commence spilling its guts between now and then to make at least ONE of my long-haul flights undelayed and undisrupted (just this once!). Or any other volcano for that matter.
I don't know why I'm so calm when it comes to leaving France. Perhaps, this time, I have more plans, I know what's going to be happening. I know what I'm in for (sort of). I have adopted a good philosophy.
Perhaps, I have grown into my life. I know it's a strange phrase to use but I really do believe it. Examining the insane adventure that has been not just limited to my time in Europe, but the last 8 and a half months, I have changed so much. I'll admit that the first few months were a bit more normal. That my Canadian life had a sort of normality about it and that when I got to Europe that relative normality fell away before I was ready to let go, which made my time in Europe a lot harder and also, a lot more crazy. A real adventure, living by the seat of my pants (or skirt, as the case may be).
I really had no point to this blog when I started writing it, but I have come to one by accident.
The last 4 and a half months in this continent in numbers;
Well, it's 5 weeks left again. But this time, 5 weeks in France, and this time, I'm not hysterical (yet).
In exactly 5 weeks, I'll be in a lovely, comfortable, business class seat somewhere over the Atlantic (and, after just having watched Titanic, the idea is a little strange). Actually, having just checked my itinerary, I'll only just have left England. But, no matter, I'll be comfortable, hopefully a little drunk, with a glass of sparkling white wine in my hand, no doubt (to numb the pain of leaving France and to dull the almost-certain panic-attack when faced with long-haul air-travel)
Also, I am glad to have just read that that unpronouncable Iclandic volcano has calmed down a bit for the moment, and will hopefully (knock on wood) not re-commence spilling its guts between now and then to make at least ONE of my long-haul flights undelayed and undisrupted (just this once!). Or any other volcano for that matter.
I don't know why I'm so calm when it comes to leaving France. Perhaps, this time, I have more plans, I know what's going to be happening. I know what I'm in for (sort of). I have adopted a good philosophy.
Perhaps, I have grown into my life. I know it's a strange phrase to use but I really do believe it. Examining the insane adventure that has been not just limited to my time in Europe, but the last 8 and a half months, I have changed so much. I'll admit that the first few months were a bit more normal. That my Canadian life had a sort of normality about it and that when I got to Europe that relative normality fell away before I was ready to let go, which made my time in Europe a lot harder and also, a lot more crazy. A real adventure, living by the seat of my pants (or skirt, as the case may be).
I really had no point to this blog when I started writing it, but I have come to one by accident.
The last 4 and a half months in this continent in numbers;
- trains: 8
- train-related panic-attacks: 1
- planes: 4
- plane-related panic-attacks: 2
- glasses of wine: 937, 589, 793, 432 (although this statistic is waiting to be verified)
- days without stockings: 7
- drunken evenings: a few.
- metros: countless
- missed trains: 1 (but not mine)
- jobs: 3
- croissants: 39, 483, 295
- countries visited: 6
- cities visited: 20
- international plug-converter thingys that still didn't work with my hair straightener: 3
- museums visited: 11 (shockingly low!)
- films seen at cinemas: 3 (also, shockingly low)
- numbers of days when I started counting down to my USA trip: 126
- days left in Europe: 34
Holy Crap! The last 92 days flew by.
As much as I didn't believe it 92 days ago... I'm going to miss Lyon. France. French. And my life here.
bisous. a.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Sunshine, books and pretty scarves.
I've been having a pretty wonderful week. I've been taking full advantage of my last week of enforced holidays. Next week it's back to work, back to being able to pay rent, back to 5 days on/2 days off (but not in that order).
On tuesday, I ate an entire baguette because I was finally working a bit again, and had euros in my pocket and decided to celebrate by eating, even though I wasn't hungry. This baguette included tomatos, goats cheese, eggs and jam, but not all together. I was still full this morning. Before work, I sat by the river in the sun, reading, trying to get some colour into these pasty legs of mine. After work, I made sugar cookies and watched Bridget Jones 2: The Edge of Reason in Polish and remembered how much I dont like watching movies dubbed in Polish - the same guy does all the voices, quite monotonously, but it gave a new twist to an old favourite. And, the sugar cookies are quite amazing. Might snack a couple now...
Today, I shopped, having recently found that I have no white bra nor tshirts that I don't swim in (problem with weightloss - now a size S in bottoms and M in tops!). So, I took advantage of H and M's massive lingerie selection. I was tempted by many a cute lacy pink bra, or sexy blue panties, but I stuck to my guns and went for the plain white t-shirt bra. I also discovered some cute basic tops for 7 Euros... done! I splurged on a scarfe though. It was so perfect because I had chosen a peachy-pink top and a turquoise blue top, and the scarfe is beige with peachy-pink and turquoise blue flowers. I opted against this gorgeous denim skirt I saw, because once I tried it on, it made me look pregnant. No, not fat. Pregnant. The fit was perfect except for the little bit that the front which bulged out like a baby bump. I have as much desire to look pregnant as I have to be pregnant, so I had to leave the cute denim skirt with the bows on the pockets...
I indulged again in a 'Chelsea' grilled panini, with an Iced Tea at a little place called something like Bagel Sandwitch Bar, or New York Bagel Bar or whatever. All I know is there was a photo of NYC's Hard Rock Cafe and the Naked Cowboy on my table and a huge New York State license plate print on the wall. I finished up at 5:30pm, with no desire to go home, so I spent 2 and a half hours reading in the sun by the cathedral. It's sunny so long now, it's past 9pm and it's not even fully dark yet.
For tomorrow I envision more sunshine, reading, possibly at the Parc Tete d'Or or at Croix Rousse... and possibly a lesson... still waiting for the confirmation from my student....
On tuesday, I ate an entire baguette because I was finally working a bit again, and had euros in my pocket and decided to celebrate by eating, even though I wasn't hungry. This baguette included tomatos, goats cheese, eggs and jam, but not all together. I was still full this morning. Before work, I sat by the river in the sun, reading, trying to get some colour into these pasty legs of mine. After work, I made sugar cookies and watched Bridget Jones 2: The Edge of Reason in Polish and remembered how much I dont like watching movies dubbed in Polish - the same guy does all the voices, quite monotonously, but it gave a new twist to an old favourite. And, the sugar cookies are quite amazing. Might snack a couple now...
Today, I shopped, having recently found that I have no white bra nor tshirts that I don't swim in (problem with weightloss - now a size S in bottoms and M in tops!). So, I took advantage of H and M's massive lingerie selection. I was tempted by many a cute lacy pink bra, or sexy blue panties, but I stuck to my guns and went for the plain white t-shirt bra. I also discovered some cute basic tops for 7 Euros... done! I splurged on a scarfe though. It was so perfect because I had chosen a peachy-pink top and a turquoise blue top, and the scarfe is beige with peachy-pink and turquoise blue flowers. I opted against this gorgeous denim skirt I saw, because once I tried it on, it made me look pregnant. No, not fat. Pregnant. The fit was perfect except for the little bit that the front which bulged out like a baby bump. I have as much desire to look pregnant as I have to be pregnant, so I had to leave the cute denim skirt with the bows on the pockets...
I indulged again in a 'Chelsea' grilled panini, with an Iced Tea at a little place called something like Bagel Sandwitch Bar, or New York Bagel Bar or whatever. All I know is there was a photo of NYC's Hard Rock Cafe and the Naked Cowboy on my table and a huge New York State license plate print on the wall. I finished up at 5:30pm, with no desire to go home, so I spent 2 and a half hours reading in the sun by the cathedral. It's sunny so long now, it's past 9pm and it's not even fully dark yet.
For tomorrow I envision more sunshine, reading, possibly at the Parc Tete d'Or or at Croix Rousse... and possibly a lesson... still waiting for the confirmation from my student....
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Things I love at the Moment (Mk. II)
- al fresco coffee without jackets
- need for sunglasses
- the smell of fresh flowers
- french markets
- half a dozen eggs for less than a euro
- waking up to sunshine
- backrubs
- long talks with my mum
- the look of sunlight coming in through stained glass windows
- getting things right
- unexpected outings
- dancing like crazy while completely sober
- goat's cheese
- home-made omlettes
- the snooze button
- cover bands at local bars
- open-air art galleries
- new jewellry
- clean apartments (but not "cleaning apartments")
- cuddling on couches
- dinner with friends
- girly talks
- sunsets at 8:30pm.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Wonderful Weekend
So, the weekend is nearly over, it's sunday afternoon and I'm determined to be productive!
I had a wonderful weekend full of sunshine and good company; je suis tres contente
I was so happy to finish work on Friday, after an exhausting day full of scooters, bikes and tears (not my own), and knowing that there will be two weeks of freedom (albeit financial shit) to follow. It looks like I will have to further downsize my already shoestring lifestyle, a challenge, but I think it's do-able. It just means, less convenient grocery shopping to find the cheapest markets in town, more penny pinching, no more giving to beggars (sorry) and no more chucking 1 and 2 centimes pieces in the bottom of my bag. It means bending over to pick up that 10 centimes piece, and possibly (finally) exchanging my safety-net of swiss francs and seeing how many euros I can get for US$8.19.
Anyway, back to my weekend. Friday night involved cocktails, more specifically, pina colada and lots of French! Trying to keep up is still hard, but getting easier. Saturday was brilliant; involving a walk around the old town, croix rousse, down the Rhone river and a petit repose in the gardens of the art gallery. On saturday night, crepe party chez moi, complete with wine, tarot cards, cosmo magazines and a Gerald Butler film. This morning, I called my parents and must say it made me feel so much better but made me miss them like crazy. I realise I do, infact, have the best parents! And talking to my dad, which I havent done for ages, was so good and he helped me get some real perspective on my life and the near future. I don't think he gets quite how much he helped me this morning! Now, I've just finished work and plan to keep up my productivity even though watching some films is getting too tempting. Perhaps, if I write down my to-do list, it will be easier to get motivated;
I had a wonderful weekend full of sunshine and good company; je suis tres contente
I was so happy to finish work on Friday, after an exhausting day full of scooters, bikes and tears (not my own), and knowing that there will be two weeks of freedom (albeit financial shit) to follow. It looks like I will have to further downsize my already shoestring lifestyle, a challenge, but I think it's do-able. It just means, less convenient grocery shopping to find the cheapest markets in town, more penny pinching, no more giving to beggars (sorry) and no more chucking 1 and 2 centimes pieces in the bottom of my bag. It means bending over to pick up that 10 centimes piece, and possibly (finally) exchanging my safety-net of swiss francs and seeing how many euros I can get for US$8.19.
Anyway, back to my weekend. Friday night involved cocktails, more specifically, pina colada and lots of French! Trying to keep up is still hard, but getting easier. Saturday was brilliant; involving a walk around the old town, croix rousse, down the Rhone river and a petit repose in the gardens of the art gallery. On saturday night, crepe party chez moi, complete with wine, tarot cards, cosmo magazines and a Gerald Butler film. This morning, I called my parents and must say it made me feel so much better but made me miss them like crazy. I realise I do, infact, have the best parents! And talking to my dad, which I havent done for ages, was so good and he helped me get some real perspective on my life and the near future. I don't think he gets quite how much he helped me this morning! Now, I've just finished work and plan to keep up my productivity even though watching some films is getting too tempting. Perhaps, if I write down my to-do list, it will be easier to get motivated;
- reply to some pressing emails
- re-post work advertisments online
- take out the rubbish
- put my name on the mailbox (finally)
- clean the kitchen
- work on some paintings
- post finished paintings on new blog (yet another!)
- eat. soup w couscous. not my favourite, but all I have that is not pasta. (which I'm sick of)
Ok! Allons-y!
bisous. a.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
What I'm loving right now /// Les Choses que j'adore a ce moment
- big, brown fabric flowers // les fleurs brun de tissue
- grey-blue pastel silk skirts // les jupes de soie gris-bleu
- off-white cotton blouses // les blousons de coton presque-blanc
- not needing jackets // pas des manteaux
- big sunglasses // les grandes lunettes de soleil
- crepes // crepes
- french white wine // le vin blanc francais
- balmy nights // les nuits embaumees
- strolls by the river // promenades au bord du fleuve
- fresh seafood // fruits de mer
- long nights // les nuits tres longues
- longer days // les jours plus longues
- sunshine waking me up in the morning // quand le soleil me reveille dans le matin
Truely, it's spring! // Franchement, c'est les printemps!
Love, adore, aime, all these things.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
And sometimes things just go right...
I woke up this morning feeling pretty average. Rent is due and I had to get my metro pass done. I found out my rent had not gone down since we won't have a new roommate. (insert profanity here).
I barely scraped up enough to pay the cheaper rent. (insert other, stronger profanity here)
I also will not be earning more euros until tuesday (double profanity).
So, I label myself as 'in the financial pits'. I was hoping not to touch my savings anymore until I left for the US.
I put off getting my papers sorted to get my metro pass done by chatting on facebook, reading blogs, muttering to myself and making yet another cup of tea. Finally, I got off my ass, got my passport, my proof of address and my 5 euros for the photomachine (Le Photomaton, just like those in Amelie *sigh*) and headed to Perrache.
Not in a good mood as it was, I grumbled my way through the station to the first Photomaton which was out of order, passing by the insanely full TCL (Lyon Public Transport Co.) office thinking I was going to waste a few hours of my life just waiting in line.
Finally, I got to a working Photomaton and took the photo thinking "I just don't care." However, I was pleasantly surprised. My photo came out looking a lot more glamorous that I had expected. What an ego boost! (that oversized flower I bought at H&M was definately worth the 4 Euro) I quite like it and am considering taping it into both my passports and over my student ID to cover up past photos where I look ridiculous, or very, very stoned.
When the photos came out, and I braced myself for what I learned from past metro-card-acquisition experiences (like those in Montreal), I was set for more questions than I had been asked at Canadian customs (i.e. a lot.)
In Montreal, it took me 6 hours to get my metro pass. In Lyon, it took me 6 minutes. The crowd at the TCL office had disappeard into thin air thanks to the help of a magician named 'Luigi' (it's the only explination as all public service institutions are set up to make life miserable), there were 3 free service people, each smiling as I walked up and gave one of them my documents. She typed things in to the computer, clicked the mouse a few times and gave me my metro pass, valid untill 2015! I asked if I can pay by Visa. She said 'bien sur', smiled, processed the payment and wished me a 'bon journee'.
I thought this is all too good to be true, and perhaps the card only starts working in 24 hours or something. But no, it's true! The card works!!
To celebrate, I bought a baguette and debated which avocado was best (the hard one or the squishy one - I opted for squishy, even though it was more expensive. Also, did you know that 'avocado' comes from a native South American word meaning 'testicle'? The Spanish adopted it to describe the fruit, not knowing the genital reference. Anyway, I digress.), and walked home in the gorgeous sunlight with the breeze that was just enough to make me feel pretty, but not enough to get my hair stuck in my sunglasses and lipstick.
So, despite being in the financial pits, there are some moments in the day where I feel my life has almost reached perfection.
I barely scraped up enough to pay the cheaper rent. (insert other, stronger profanity here)
I also will not be earning more euros until tuesday (double profanity).
So, I label myself as 'in the financial pits'. I was hoping not to touch my savings anymore until I left for the US.
I put off getting my papers sorted to get my metro pass done by chatting on facebook, reading blogs, muttering to myself and making yet another cup of tea. Finally, I got off my ass, got my passport, my proof of address and my 5 euros for the photomachine (Le Photomaton, just like those in Amelie *sigh*) and headed to Perrache.
Not in a good mood as it was, I grumbled my way through the station to the first Photomaton which was out of order, passing by the insanely full TCL (Lyon Public Transport Co.) office thinking I was going to waste a few hours of my life just waiting in line.
Finally, I got to a working Photomaton and took the photo thinking "I just don't care." However, I was pleasantly surprised. My photo came out looking a lot more glamorous that I had expected. What an ego boost! (that oversized flower I bought at H&M was definately worth the 4 Euro) I quite like it and am considering taping it into both my passports and over my student ID to cover up past photos where I look ridiculous, or very, very stoned.
When the photos came out, and I braced myself for what I learned from past metro-card-acquisition experiences (like those in Montreal), I was set for more questions than I had been asked at Canadian customs (i.e. a lot.)
In Montreal, it took me 6 hours to get my metro pass. In Lyon, it took me 6 minutes. The crowd at the TCL office had disappeard into thin air thanks to the help of a magician named 'Luigi' (it's the only explination as all public service institutions are set up to make life miserable), there were 3 free service people, each smiling as I walked up and gave one of them my documents. She typed things in to the computer, clicked the mouse a few times and gave me my metro pass, valid untill 2015! I asked if I can pay by Visa. She said 'bien sur', smiled, processed the payment and wished me a 'bon journee'.
I thought this is all too good to be true, and perhaps the card only starts working in 24 hours or something. But no, it's true! The card works!!
To celebrate, I bought a baguette and debated which avocado was best (the hard one or the squishy one - I opted for squishy, even though it was more expensive. Also, did you know that 'avocado' comes from a native South American word meaning 'testicle'? The Spanish adopted it to describe the fruit, not knowing the genital reference. Anyway, I digress.), and walked home in the gorgeous sunlight with the breeze that was just enough to make me feel pretty, but not enough to get my hair stuck in my sunglasses and lipstick.
So, despite being in the financial pits, there are some moments in the day where I feel my life has almost reached perfection.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Oreos and Milo.
What kind of country is this?!!
OK, so I understand they have one of the best healthcare and education systems in the world. (Kudos to America for catching up with health care reform though - I was very happy to read about that this morning)
And I get that the cheese is fantastic. And the wine. And the bread. And the language is beautiful and the culture is rich. I get that.
And I've made peace with the fact that they don't have timtams or cherry ripes. (almost)
And I'm slowly coming to terms with the French ignorance towards Milo... very slowly.
HOWEVER, where are all the oreos?!
I have been craving oreos like a mad woman (don't worry, unless I'm going to be the new Mary, I'm not pregnant). I don't know why but I have been longing for the dark chocolatey goodness for the last few days and have spent ridiculous amount (1 Euro) on a packet of 6 tiny oreo cookies.
I wanted a big box. I wanted 48 cookies. I wanted to sit and watch crappy sitcoms all day while munching normal-sized oreos, not these French cornflake-sized oreos, totally undoing all my good work and recent weightloss, and drinking milk out of the carton. I would have to spend 10 euros for that. That's $15! to get the equivalent of a regular box of oreos.
Now, I admit that oreos and I have always had a bit of a one-sided relationship. When I start with one, I can't end with only 6. There has to be more, MORE! That puny little pack of oreos left me so unsatisfied.... quite tragic.
In 68 days, I will be in America, though. In 68 days, after I land at JFK, I will buy myself a huge, industrial sized box of oreos and munch away.
Or, even just an American medium-sized box should keep me fed for about a week.
OK, so I understand they have one of the best healthcare and education systems in the world. (Kudos to America for catching up with health care reform though - I was very happy to read about that this morning)
And I get that the cheese is fantastic. And the wine. And the bread. And the language is beautiful and the culture is rich. I get that.
And I've made peace with the fact that they don't have timtams or cherry ripes. (almost)
And I'm slowly coming to terms with the French ignorance towards Milo... very slowly.
HOWEVER, where are all the oreos?!
I have been craving oreos like a mad woman (don't worry, unless I'm going to be the new Mary, I'm not pregnant). I don't know why but I have been longing for the dark chocolatey goodness for the last few days and have spent ridiculous amount (1 Euro) on a packet of 6 tiny oreo cookies.
I wanted a big box. I wanted 48 cookies. I wanted to sit and watch crappy sitcoms all day while munching normal-sized oreos, not these French cornflake-sized oreos, totally undoing all my good work and recent weightloss, and drinking milk out of the carton. I would have to spend 10 euros for that. That's $15! to get the equivalent of a regular box of oreos.
Now, I admit that oreos and I have always had a bit of a one-sided relationship. When I start with one, I can't end with only 6. There has to be more, MORE! That puny little pack of oreos left me so unsatisfied.... quite tragic.
In 68 days, I will be in America, though. In 68 days, after I land at JFK, I will buy myself a huge, industrial sized box of oreos and munch away.
Or, even just an American medium-sized box should keep me fed for about a week.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Set in Stone.
Ok, so I recently started planning my next few steps. I have my trip to the US almost all planned, me thinks. It looks a little like this:
30 May: Take train to Paris. Then fly Paris-London-JFK
30 May - 4 June: New York
4 June - 11 June (ish): San Fransisco
11 June - 11 July: Vague idea to spend some time in NY and some time in Montreal. But not quite sure exactly with the details.
Then, on the 12th June, I get back to Paris to celebrate Bastille Day, French Style (after having spent the 4th of July in the US)
Ill then spend some time with family in France, then go to Bratislava, then to Poland for 2 weeks. After that it's Rome, Madrid, Cordoba and Marrekech.
After this, around the end of August, I'll find a place to live and work a bit. Until late December or January. Then, I hope to go to Peru, if all goes according to plan, and maybe Chile and/or Bolivia. Not too sure, but I HAVE to see Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. And, eat some real ceviche. And probably drink too much Pisco. And just have an adventure. As I have been for the last 8 months.
But yeah, that's the vague plan.
-a
30 May: Take train to Paris. Then fly Paris-London-JFK
30 May - 4 June: New York
4 June - 11 June (ish): San Fransisco
11 June - 11 July: Vague idea to spend some time in NY and some time in Montreal. But not quite sure exactly with the details.
Then, on the 12th June, I get back to Paris to celebrate Bastille Day, French Style (after having spent the 4th of July in the US)
Ill then spend some time with family in France, then go to Bratislava, then to Poland for 2 weeks. After that it's Rome, Madrid, Cordoba and Marrekech.
After this, around the end of August, I'll find a place to live and work a bit. Until late December or January. Then, I hope to go to Peru, if all goes according to plan, and maybe Chile and/or Bolivia. Not too sure, but I HAVE to see Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. And, eat some real ceviche. And probably drink too much Pisco. And just have an adventure. As I have been for the last 8 months.
But yeah, that's the vague plan.
-a
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Chère France
[Eugene Delacroix, Liberty Leading the people/La Liberté guidant le peuple, 1830, Oil on Canvas. Source: here]Chère France;
Here are some things I find interesting about you
- The blue street signs in places like Paris or Lyon. They are so French.
- Your pastries are to die for, which makes your lack of Milo or TimTams bearable
- The freedom to explore your museums if one is under 25 and European
- Your frequent condom-dispensing machines. I have never used them, but I find them very amusing
- French gentlemen are the epitome of gentlemen (rivalled only by Americans, I must admit)
- Your artists and writers are pretty amazing (see Delacroix, above.)
- I truly love your accent (even if you don't)
However, there are some things I dislike about you;
- Your railway system's ability to make life oh so complicated, and the reluctance, nay, refusal to exchange tickets. Also, your trains are too small, I cannot fit my luggage in the aisles.
- Your metros are expensive. They are good. But they are expensive
- You sell too many cigarettes
- Your language is very difficult. Even after 8 years of A's and Distinctions, and many dollars spent at the Alliance Francaise, I am having lots of problems to communicate.
- Your bureaucracy is a little on the frustrating side
Cordialement,
Mademoiselle A.F.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Arriving in Lyon
So I'm 'home' and learning again how to write on an anglophone keyboard. I say 'home', because, although I plan to stay in Lyon untill May 28, I'm not yet 'home', ie I dont have my own apartment.
However, in my preliminary apartment searches, I came across an old posting where the room for rent had already been rented (this I only found out later). HOWEVER, there was one room available for sublet, while the occupant (a comedian), is doing a tour of Africa. The room I'm subletting for a week only sets me back 80Euro and I have my own room and a bunch of cool (although temporary) roommates. They comprise of 3 musicians, a student and a comedian (the one whose room I'm in). And, a stable place in Lyon suburbs to do some field research about getting my own place for the next 3 months.
Arriving in Lyon seemed to be the biggest struggle so far. Before getting off the train I (as politely as possible), woke the lady in the aisle seat to go to the bathroom, having just guzzled half a litre of water. I calculated that I'd still have time to get my bags and calmly wait at the doors of the train. Little did I know that in the time of my absense, a traffic jam had formed between the door of the bathroom and my insanely heavy and bulky luggage. Everyone was ready to get off the train when it pulled in to Lyon Part Dieu, and by the time they did, and I ran to get my big, bulky bag (which didnt even fit in the train passage way, but had to be dragged on its side), people started to get on the train, creating a bigger traffic jam and making it more impossible for me to get off the train. Stressed and almost in tears (the train was about to leave), I babbled non-sensical french to lovely french gentlemen who grabbed my suitcase and my backpack for me and got them off the train. If it wasn't for chivalry, I would have ended up in Nimes, Montpellier or on the Cote d'Azur, wherever that train was heading late at night.
The rest went smoothly. I followed Mathieu's instructions (one of my temporary roommates), caught the tram and found him immediately at the station. He then (like a real frenchman), took my suitcase and walked me to the house. We had a cup of tea, chatted, and he went back to the recording studio downstairs, while I checked emails, explored the rather huge house and just went about making myself at home in a strange new place (something I've come accustomed to in the last 7 months).
So, thats it for now.
More Lyonnaise adventures to come!
Gros Bisous,
a
However, in my preliminary apartment searches, I came across an old posting where the room for rent had already been rented (this I only found out later). HOWEVER, there was one room available for sublet, while the occupant (a comedian), is doing a tour of Africa. The room I'm subletting for a week only sets me back 80Euro and I have my own room and a bunch of cool (although temporary) roommates. They comprise of 3 musicians, a student and a comedian (the one whose room I'm in). And, a stable place in Lyon suburbs to do some field research about getting my own place for the next 3 months.
Arriving in Lyon seemed to be the biggest struggle so far. Before getting off the train I (as politely as possible), woke the lady in the aisle seat to go to the bathroom, having just guzzled half a litre of water. I calculated that I'd still have time to get my bags and calmly wait at the doors of the train. Little did I know that in the time of my absense, a traffic jam had formed between the door of the bathroom and my insanely heavy and bulky luggage. Everyone was ready to get off the train when it pulled in to Lyon Part Dieu, and by the time they did, and I ran to get my big, bulky bag (which didnt even fit in the train passage way, but had to be dragged on its side), people started to get on the train, creating a bigger traffic jam and making it more impossible for me to get off the train. Stressed and almost in tears (the train was about to leave), I babbled non-sensical french to lovely french gentlemen who grabbed my suitcase and my backpack for me and got them off the train. If it wasn't for chivalry, I would have ended up in Nimes, Montpellier or on the Cote d'Azur, wherever that train was heading late at night.
The rest went smoothly. I followed Mathieu's instructions (one of my temporary roommates), caught the tram and found him immediately at the station. He then (like a real frenchman), took my suitcase and walked me to the house. We had a cup of tea, chatted, and he went back to the recording studio downstairs, while I checked emails, explored the rather huge house and just went about making myself at home in a strange new place (something I've come accustomed to in the last 7 months).
So, thats it for now.
More Lyonnaise adventures to come!
Gros Bisous,
a
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Things that I am in love with right now.
- boats
- having a job and making money
- Milan Kundera
- keeping a diary
- the growing urge to paint something
- the breton wind
- going to New York in a matter of WEEKS (or months, depending on how you look at it)
- the purchasing of return train tickets to Lille/Brussels for less than 100 Euro.
- the relaxation and freedom of weekends off work
- my new camera (Windows and Doors - new photography project)
- speaking french
with all the love from Brittany/Bretagne. West France.
-a
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