les films d'été 09

I don't really go to the cinema very often, or watch movies very often for that matter. And when I do it is normally with my boyfriend. I never know the names of actors, or the name of the film. I never seem to have watched the popular movies that everyone and their dog have seen. I will laugh at different parts then everyone, and fall asleep during the climax (especially in an action film with lots of guns and yelling).

But,

these films are giving me butterflies already, and I haven't even seen them yet. I really want to see them.

L'heure d'été looks like everything I imagine a French family to be. I have spent enough time with my boyfriend and his family (in France) to see that the French really do live like this. It is beautiful, and tempting and makes me so badly wish I were French. Brunches at the summer house, grass, beautiful architecture, sunshine, rain, rose, champagne.... ahhhh to be French! I am so happy that I can be a part of it. Yes, this film is a must see. Plus I love Juliette Binoche.

This was a mysterious book to me when I was a child. I was reading it right around the time when I was beginning to see the difference between reality and make believe. I loved it. The images, the ideas....it was all so familiar. But there was something about it that scared me a bit. Not the monsters, but more about make believe and growing up. I remember doing a school project on it, when I was about 9. We were supposed to choose a children's book and create something with it that we would present to younger children. I chose this book and made puppets with Popsicle sticks and a little replica of Max's bedroom. And they chose the Arcade Fire's song to play with the trailer. I remember first hearing Arcade Fire on much music one day, which I rarely watched. I was in the kitchen making a snack and had the tv on and suddenly I heard beautiful music. It was Rebellion (Lies) that I heard first. I sat and waited until the song ended so I could see who this beautiful new band was. 10 minutes later the whole album was downloaded and I had found myself some high school *memory portals. Sometimes their music gives me shivers. Beautiful.

I am a romantic. There is no doubt about it. I feel everything. I am emotional. I love love. So of course I loved Audrey Niffenegger's novel. I devoured the book. I was sad when it ended because I wanted to read more. Now there is a movie. I hope it doesn't disappoint me.

*memory portal:

A "Memory Portal" is something I've made up. It is a sensation that brings you back to a place in time, somewhere, anywhere, anytime in your life. It is not deja vu. For example, the smell of gasoline often reminds me of my grandparents shed. Seeing an old t-shirt reminds me of hanging out in Loblaws with my friends in high school. Black and white gingham reminds me of me and my mom when I was a baby. The memory portal can be any of the five senses. It can be good or bad. But it is a portal that triggers something in your memory of a moment in your life. Finding memory portals by chance are one of my favourite things.

see you and me

Hi, how are you?
You don't have answer, to me, just to yourself. I just thought I'd ask, seeing as a blog is just a one-way conversation.
My blog is basically just for me.... to preserve little memories from my life that could easily be forgotten, to store things I find through the internet, to help feel more in-sync with myself sometimes, for a few family and friends to be updated. Sometimes it is more than that though. It is mine, and I like that. Right now, I am really using it as a way of self expression. I would never tell my deepest secrets to my blog, or share my most creative ideas, but sometimes it is a way of thinking out loud, which I often need to do. It gives me an excuse to snoop on the web and not feel like I'm wasting time. I would just like to take this moment, and say "thank you blog".


I was thinking the other day about how small French apartments are. I have been complaining for the past few months about living in a chambre de bon, and there are people living here in Paris that have been doing that almost all their life! So I then started wondering how French people don't go completely mad staying cooped up in tiny apartments all day. That is what cafe's are for. Only in France can you order one little espresso and literally stay in the cafe for 8 hours without being bother to order more, or asked to leave. French cafe's and resto's are just the continuation of people's living rooms. I see people having birthdays, doing their taxes, studying, sketching, kissing, writing, reading, wine drinking, fighting, doing their make-up, visiting with friends....the list goes on. I think this has a lot to do with the strong culture of France. Instead of complaining about my small room, I'm going to be happy about the fact that I have about 100 comfortable living rooms all just a 5 or 10 minute walk from my house. And all it costs me is 1.50 euro.

Lee Miller
(In Hitlers bathtub)
(Seriously, she was)

It snowed today and its cold, so I am posting some photos I found that remind me somehow of the weather today. Most of them are Rodney Smith. It snowed big fluffy snowflakes for about 10 minutes, then of course, turned to rain directly after. I made "chocolat chaud". Not to be confused with hot chocolate. I melted dark chocolate with milk, and it was the perfect solution for the cold. I sat inside the house looking out the window and watched the snow fall. The kids were cold when I picked them up after school, so I made some more chocolat chaud.

This photo reminds me of Samuel Beckett's writing.

Is there a better way to end the day than to sleep in the arms of the one you love? These are my most cherished moments because when I am laying there with him I don't think about the supposedly important things in life like money, career, consumerism, to do list....

how to look incredibly un-french and other pieces from a carefree friday

salut les pote!

(that translates to something like "hi-ya folks!" in english).
I would never actually walk up to a group of French people and say that (a second time anyway....).

Re-cap of the week time! I worked 12 hour days both Wednesday and Thursday taking care of 3 children, with occasional visits from their friends. Needless today.... je suis très fatigue. But my boss is incredibly kind, and gave me Friday off. Merci beaucoup! Friday was spent sleeping in until a well deserved 12:30. The only reason I actually woke up was because I was staying at my boyfriends, and he had class at 13h. Otherwise I think we both could have continued sleeping straight through to the next day. It's winter, it's our natural instinct to hibernate, no? I went to Rue de Rivoli to search for some possible Christmas gifts to bring back to Canada for Christmas, but didn't have a lot of luck. I did however by a scarf for my mom (and a pre-christmas gift scarf for myself, it is warm, wooly, navy blue and plaid; my favourite things). And guess who I passed while walking down the street!? Starbucks, looking all tempting and full of chai tea lattes. So of course I entered, and bought one for myself. Even after my craving earlier in the week with the cupcakes I had no time to splurge on one, so this one tasted even more beautiful. It was Christmas in my mouth. Spicy, warm and exactly what I needed. Most of the tables were full, so I said to myself, no worries, I will take this cup of cosy with me while running my errands. This was a mistake. Never have I received so many anti-tourist glares from Parisiens. Never. Even on my trotinette, even speaking English loudly with my friends on the metro, even hanging out with a group of French people and foring them to speak English because my French was so terrible! Even then, it was accepted. But walking down the streets of Paris with a to-go coffee on hand, that is unacceptable. The French are so keen on sipping away on their coffees for hours, or atleast downing their espresso at the bar. They even carry around meter long baguettes, carelessly taking bites off the end of it. And these things are both completely acceptable? But not my coffee carrying? Maybe they were even more offended because I was dressed quite Parisien that day.
In the end, I didn't care, I happily sipped my coffee all the way from boulevard Sebastopol almost to Place Concorde.

It was a pleasent afternoon, really.

Later that evening I went out for some drinks and dinner with my boyfriend and his 6 other friends. It was actually a very enjoyable night, me being the only girl amongst 6 French guys. The night began at Chez George for a few glasses of wine. We then migrated a few streets away to El sol et Luna, a Mexican restuarant where I had an avacado quasadila and we all shared pitchers of margarita. After dinner we then found ourselves at a cosy bar with French musicians singing classic English music.... their adorable French accents singing anything from Radiohead to Pink Floyd. At this bar we switched to beer.
It was a very fun night, and I spoke French almost the entire time!! The night began at 6:30 and we didn't arrive home until after 2.
This morning when I woke up my stomach was quite disappointed with me for the assortment of foods and drinks I consumed that past night: wine, quasadila, margarita, beer.

reflections of an english-face living in paris: lesson 1

I have been in Paris, France now for 6 months. Holy merde! This means I have survived the perils of being an English face among the French faces for half of one year. Which has not been easy some times, so I will give myself a little pat on the back. This also means that I only have 6 months left until my Visa is an asshole and tells me that I have to return to Canada. This, I am dreading. Even though I knew after 1 month here that 1 year was not enough. To make things clear, to the few people that read this, I love Canada. Please do not confuse my extreme love for Paris, as hatred for Canada. I love my country, and am proud to be Canadian (woahhhh fromage, I know), and I also love France, so.... naturally duel-citizenship would be the perfect solution!

Life in Paris for me did take some getting used to at first, and I'm sure there are more surprises to come.

#1: People-watching
Parisian's give a whole new definition to this simple care-free hobby that we Canadians partake in every so often; some more than others. Nothing serious though. I never notice myself being watched unless I'm walking alone. The first time I experienced it, I thought maybe I had bird shit on me, or my fly was open, or I had a bit of food on my face. I was surveyed by everyone; people sitting on a patio cafe, people walking past me. I sometimes even be checked out completely, head to toe.... men and women. I was becoming paranoid and almost worried, so I kept glancing in the reflection of the shop windows. Nothing. I looked completely normal. This continued though, and I was no longer paranoid, and thought maybe people were admiring me.... I guess my hair did look extra nice today, or maybe its the new lipstick colour? But no, this wasn't it either. In reality, the French just love to people watch. They will look you up and down, maybe even talk about you with their friends in a cafe as you pass. Sometimes nice things, and sometimes....because to be honest, I've found myself to be doing it now too. People-watching is definitely part of the French culture.
I think a more fitting term for people-watching Parisian style would be .... "People Scrutinizing" maybe?

In other news I am back from the South of France....and am almost completely rejuvenated. Exactly the amount of relaxation I needed. And also, was my first time hitch-hiking! Only one beautiful warm day of sunshine, but it was a wonderful trip nonetheless. I did a lot of thinking, and reflecting, and talking about my options for staying in France for atleast another year. And I have officially decided that after my return from the holiday, it is time for research. I will not rest until I have found a solution to extending my stay here!