les têtes des poissons

I went to the Préfecture de Police today in Paris. It's a lovely old building beside the river in the heart of Paris. Préfecture basically means administration.

I had to go and ask some questions answered regarding my current visa situation. My visa, that permits me to work and live in France like any normal citizen of France is going to expire in about 1 month and a half, and I was informed today that it is absolutement obligatoire that I return to Canada before the expiry of the visa. My job however does not end until the start of July. Therefore, I have to leave the country early and return to Canada. I am not opposed of course to spending a summer in Toronto, infact, I know it will be a wonderful summer. Toronto is lovely in the summer. I look forward to days spent scavenging around Kensington Market on hot days with my friends, and warm summer nights spent on cafe and bar patios, bikerides, days to the beach, and maybe even make it to center island this summer. I have established such a life for myself here in Paris. It will be strange to return to Canada after living in France for one year. Of course. This is expected. Not bad strange, just different. I will come back to France in September, this is sure. It is my home.

My head is full of thinks. Yes, thinks. Not things, just plenty of thinking. There are too many thinks going through my head right now. Topic change.

After the préfecture, Thomas and I went to a cafe just across the river. In a tourist area, so of course we paid far too much for a cafe au lait and espresso, but it is ok, the view was nice. We were talking in a mix of french and english about the beautiful historic architecture of Paris. There was construction being done on a beautiful historic building on the river. I asked what kind of construction was going on under the tarp.... are they replacing the lovely old building with something modern? I hope not. He told me that they were just rebuilding something damaged. But rebuilding it to look exactly the same as before. He was telling me that it is not legal to build something not to look like the original buildings of Paris. It is too much a part of the image of the city. It makes sense. Paris would have a completely different image if it didn't stay exactly how it has been for the last hundreds of years. Most of France is the same. He was telling me about an historic house near his summer house on the Basin d'Arcachon. I have seen it when taking a walk along the beach. It is a gorgeous mansion that must be atleast 300 years old. There are very strict rules that come with living in that house. You must confirm with historic committee/ elders of the village before hammering a nail in the wall, changing a broken window, cooking garlic in the kitchen, shitting in the 5th floor toilet....

My friends and I used to love this song in highschool.

yeahhhh

probleme airport mac ox x

Today after work he called me and said that he couldn't go to the cinema tonight, but that he was going home to work a bit instead. He wanted me to come with him. Of course I did. He picked me up on his scooter. The weather is just so beautiful at the moment that I can leave my window open almost all the time. There is a light spring breeze, warm enough now that it doesn't even make you cold. just cool. So my window is open, and he has been coming to my house to take me with him on his scooter lately. I know the sound of his little white vespa now. He calls me when he has arrived and is waiting for me just outside the building, with my helmet in hand, smoking a cigarette.

I know he is there before he calls now.

We arrived at his house in time to eat with his mom. I could smell garlic cooking, and vinaigrette for a salad. Walking inside the only light on was the kitchen. It felt so nice, the smells, the dark, and my bare feet on the new hard wood floors. It felt familier. I suddenly forgot everything that had been stressing me out from the day.
"mmmm you have such a cosy apartment." I said to him as we walked down the almost pitch black hallway to leave our things in his room. I lightly keep my finger on his back because in the dark I still often miss the door to his room. He knows. where it is. perfectly.
"Such?" he asked.
One of the things of having a boyfriend whose first language is not the same as mine is that he may not know every word I use. Naturally. It is of course the same for me in French. I asked him if he knew what such meant, and he said yes, he just liked the emphasis I used on how the home was so cosy.

I asked myself then, how I would describe the word such to someone who had never heard it before.

so + much = such

I think maybe the word such is actually a contraction.... But I couldn't have said "mmmm you have so much a cosy apartment" rather than "mmmm you have such a cosy apartment." But I still think so + much = such.

gut

It's 1:13am, Paris France.

I vacuumed my bedroom yesterday, but in order to do so I had to move all of the shit off my floor onto my bed. It's not my fault my room is impossible to keep tidy, it's the size of a locker.... and I never kept my high school locker tidy. Why am I talking about lockers? This is what happens when my fingers touch the keyboard. Scatter-brained random thoughts, that's what happens.

so, now it is 1:16, Paris France.

(Proof that I did not leave the city in the past 3 minutes)

I should be sleeping, but I still have homework to do, and a bed to clean. My brain is full of thoughts. Some selfish thoughts. I have been feeling guilty lately for wanting so badly to stay in Paris. I want to stay here. Want. Ew. I would like to stay here. But it's more than "would like", so it's want. Which is just selfish. And my mom sent me an email the other day which related to my thoughts perfectly. I was stressing out about university here, and my working holiday visa, and french customs etc.

And this is what she wrote:

This is a whole new topic, but something I heard about yesterday that sheds a whole new light on every situation and sort of puts life in perspective.

You remember Lauren, our neighbours Tom and Henrietta's granddaughter. And do you remember her mother Maria and her father Felix? They've been living in Brighton, England, for the past few years. Five weeks ago Maria started having excruciating headaches, went in for testing (CT scan, MRI) and they discovered a massive brain tumour. She was operated on immediately (March 7) and seemed to be recovering well.....until she spiked a fever, which meant infection, which was fatal. She passed away yesterday. She was around 49. I was shocked and Henrietta is a basketcase. Felix doesn't want her to come over to Europe though. He says there is nothing she can do at this point, so she is staying put here.

Anyway, depressing news, but I wanted you to know, and it does put life in perspective in many ways, I feel. And it also makes me feel even better about coming to see you and seeing a city and country I otherwise would never have had the opportunity to see.

I love you sweetie !!!!

I always forget that things like that can happen in life. It would be wrong to spend my entire life worrying about the things that 'could' happen, however, it would be wise for me to consider all of the wonderful things I have and have experience, and be more open to possibilities.

This being said, I am not saying I am completely ok with leaving France. I am far too content here with the life I have. But after reflecting, and the email from my mom, I am going to be more open letting life just take it's course, and if something doesn't work out as planned, find an alternative, or be content with the cards I have been dealt. No time for pouting and pity, that is just a waste of time.



Life is grand. More than grand. Je suis vraiment content.

on change, on range

Aujourd'hui: April 1st. Is it really here already? Dear month of April, do not pass as fast as March.

Words of the day....

corde à sauter (skipping rope)

fish
chocolate cake
fetus
scraped knee
rosy cheeks
beirut
tears
small spoons

I went with the children today to a park above the Viaduc des Arts, which is a beautiful park 1 minute from my house that is built above an old railway station. It was beautiful and sunny today, just like yesterday and tomorrow I hope. The shadows of the children in the photos remind me of fetuses. I know that sounds strange and morbid. And I guess it kind of is.

but we're not robots inside a grid

Let's take a quick look at one of the many things that have changed in my life in the past 10 months:


Paris, where I live right now



Toronto, where I lived 10 months ago

"Science Vs. Romance"
by Rilo Kiley

i used to think if i could realize i'd die
then i would be a lot nicer
used to believe in a lot more
now i just see straight ahead

that's not to say i don't have good times
but as for my days

i spend them waiting

crash sites keep me up at night
impact division it splits in two
directly underneath you

as for those things
that act as markers in your life
but in between
you can't remember
and so it seems
that you've grown up and over me
and these silly things
i like to dwell on

test sites keep me up at night
chainlink and meters
i talk to you
it's cold out there
but i'm telling you
i'm lonely too

facts versus romance
you go and call yourself the boss
but we're not robots inside a grid

text versus romance
you go and add it all you want
still we're not robots inside a grid

zeros and ones

This song describes me quite well at the moment. Some good things, some not.... Anyway, no more details. Atleast I'm letting you read the lyrics. I really like this song, I sang it at a coffee house music show in my college residence 4 years ago. I sang it with my boyfriend at the time and his roomate playing guitar. I guess the song has a completely new meaning now.




Paris Metro





Toronto Subway



I would just like to say how this time in Paris has taught me more about life than I could have ever imagined. I am so much wiser, perceptive, confident, loving, experienced....that is just to start. I could not even begin to type out every little thing I have learned here. Coming to Paris was the best decision I have ever made. And deciding to try as much as I can to stay here is another perfect decision. My intentions when coming to this beautiful city were to learn French, continue a relationship, and gain some wordly knowledge about other cultures. I came to this city and I found love. I found love in many shapes and sizes. I found the strongest love I have ever had. To a boy. And it is continuing to grow stronger. I have found a love to a city. To Paris. A city that could never disappoint me or fail to show me something beautiful and inspiring each day. A city rich in history and stories and love and tradition, the city I have been searching for all my life. I am not ready to leave. I have less than 2 months left here, and I am not even close to be ready to part. I think I will never be able to seperate myself from Paris. No matter where I end up, part of me will always be here, waiting for me to come back.

J'aime Paris.

a dedicated collector and other little thoughts

The weather is ABSOLUTELY gorgeous these days. I sure hope it lasts. Now that I am seeing the sun daily and wearing spring coats, I realize how completely lovely Paris is in all types of weathers. I am happy that spring is here, but now that I see it I realize how Paris is beautiful in any weather conditions. I guess I'm not really surprised. It will be so easy to convince myself to stay here forever.

My window is open, and I hear vespas passing outside my window. My boyfriend has a vespa. I would like a vespa. I trust myself. His is broken at the moment, and has been for the last few months.... I miss the feeling of holding on close to him, and hiding my face from the cold wind with his back, or if it is warm, letting the breeze rush past my face and through my hair....
sigh, feels like so long ago.

Ontario, February 2009

I am trying to clean my room for the 598374503844th time this month, and it's just not working. See, I am a dedicated collector. Collector of what? of everthing.... that is why my room will just never be clean for more than a day. I love free things. Free newspapers especially. Which is a huge issue because there are hundreds of free newspapers to be had on a daily basis here in Paris. Free pamphlets and business cards from bars, cafe's and art galleries.... Don't even get me started. I collect receipts, old notes that I've written silly things on, jars, buttons, rocks, sea shells, bags, empty containers, notebooks, letters, postcards, free perfume samples.... anything I can get my greedy little dedicated collector hands on. This is me. I have tried to organize myself and stop this habit, but it is me, it can not be changed. And I look at my Oma's house, and I see that I am the same as her and that I will spend the rest of my life collecting. But its perfect, it will give my guests and children, and grandchildren plenty hours of searching and snooping and enjoying, just as I did with my oma's random collections. I'm trying to remember how it all started, and I think it spawned from collecting pretty stones from peoples drive-ways when I was young, playing at various childhood neighbours yards etc. Like I've said before, I am organized within my disorganization.

Toronto, friends house, drunk, February 2009

I went back to Canada a few weeks ago for some interviews and tests regarding my potentially studying in France. After living in such a beautiful country, and city for so long, I find myself actually searching for something attractive and beautiful in Canada. Living in Paris has spoiled me, all I have to do is look outside my window each morning and be inspired by the beauty that surrounds me. But in Canada (the cities and towns atleast), I was actually searching for things that I found asthetically appealing. And of course I was successful, don't get me wrong, it's just that beauty over-load moments don't happen as frequently as in Paris.

Toronto, friends house, slanted old stairs, Febrary 2009

breadsticks & bubbles

Hello.

It has been far too long since I last posted something. Not because I had nothing to post, just because of time. But.... I'm back! That's all.

I am so incredibly happy to be back in Paris. I genuinely love this place. Really, I do. I feel like everything is back on track....for the moment. I still have lingering thoughts of exams, visas, consulates, interviews.... But for now, I am trying to forget about that and just enjoy. Today is a beautiful sunny day in Paris. A bit cool still but in the sun, we hardly need our jackets. Welcome, spring. Please don't tease me and send back the cold, tell me you are here to stay. In one week, if it stays warm I'm moving my winter jackets to the deepest, darkest corner under my bed.

It is Wednesday, and the kids don't have school so I take care of them all day. The girls wanted a snack and decided on breadsticks. I was sitting on the ledge of the window, leaning against the railing trying to cover myself in sun rays, and Clementine brought me a breadstick covered in sesame seeds. I was suddenly brought back to the summers of my childhood. You know that feeling? When you eat, hear or smell something, and it triggers a memory? That happened just moments ago.

Speaking of childhood, I know I'm going to sound so old granny-ish....but, what's with kids these days?? The girls were glued to the television watching some lame show with teenagers and horses. barf. I thought I would rescue them, so I opened the huge windows in the living room because I know they love to look out; the apartment is on the 4th floor and its perfect for people watching. And I brought a big bottle of bubbles and two bowls of icecream, and I sat on the window sill and blew bubbles. They didn't notice I was doing any of this, so I told them to come over to the window and play with me. They looked at me for a second, then came over, took the bowls of icecream and went and sat back down on the couches. stab. So I blew bubbles for a while, enjoying myself, until they yelled at me to close the window because they couldn't hear the tv. Ohhhh kids these days. I know that bubbles and open windows were fun for me when I was 7....and apparently nothing has changed.