Yesterday
I heard beautiful and inspiring jazz music
I tasted apricot beer and a homemade salad of tomatoes, fresh radishes, dill weed, mushrooms (all Canadian veggies) and balsamic vinegar.
I saw something inspiring and a little bit startling.
I touched the tires of my bike and found the back one to be flat.
I smelled birthday candles on my way home on Bloor street at 2am.
7.29.2009
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.
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.
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.
7.27.2009
country roads
During the month of July, I was renting out an apartment at College and Spadina. Before that one of my dear friends offered me a place in her apartment for the summer. This is was perfect because I was almost positive that I would only be staying in Toronto for 3 months. And her offer saved me having to go to the trouble of finding a place to sublet. The only condition was that we share her bed. Which is actually not a problem at all. I knew it wouldn't be. The only problem was when my boyfriend back in Paris and I started to miss eachother like crazy. So I searched like crazy on craigslist for a week and found a perfect place for us, at College & Spadina. He had lived in Toronto during one semester of studies at OCAD about 2 years ago. He wanted to come back and see Toronto in a different light. Different season, different age, different circumstances.... We had so much fun while he was here. The days leading up to him coming seemed so long! And then the days leading up to him leaving seemed so short. It's something that is so good, and you know that it is going to end, and you just really don't want it to. But it does. And so life continues to give you gifts, and take them away.... temporarily. I am so in love. It gives me butterflies still.
We went to my parents house for a few days to visit small town and country life. I grew up in a small town a few hours from Toronto. So did my mom, and my dad. And my grandparents.....
I left home for college the summer after high school graduation, I was 17. Since then I have not gone back for more that 2 weeks, more than a visit. I love my family, and it's nice to get out of the city for a few days, but I don't see myself living there.
I wanted my boyfriend to see my roots, my family, the first 17 years of my life. But I was quite nervous. I thought, how can this boy who has lived in Paris, France his entire life possibly enjoy himself in this small town? Lo and behold, he did. Who knew spending the day on my uncle's farm would be such an excellent thing to do?
The wonderful day was composed of four-wheeling, mud puddles, cows watching, mosquito swatting, kittens, kayaking in ponds, beer drinking in the forest, beer drinking by the barn, beer drinking by the drive-way, beer drinking by the pond, my uncle falling into the pond, dog's chasing four-wheelers, sunset, splashpants, spaghetti with marshmallows, bunnies, warm rain.... this helped me appreciate more where I came from.
I used to be bored by things like that, or make up excuses to my dad when he would invite me to come to his brothers farm. I look back and feel so lazy and disappointed for not appreciating the beauty and pleasure that could be found so easily around me. But this day was different, I am older and have traveled and seen more of the world, I have experienced 10x more than what I ever could have imagined. And so I was seeing this small town, my history, in a completely different light. I prefer this light. I will keep that day in my memory.
It's the kind of wonderful day that you think of often. Little moments from it pop into your head every so often and put a smile on your face, or even laugh out loud a little. But also make you a little bit sad, because it can't be repeated. It was too perfect to replicate. I know these types of days very well, and consider myself lucky. It was one of those days that was just so full of energy and movement and wonderful conversations, that by the end of the night you are so exhausted from the constant excitement, that all you can do is sigh, and smile, and have one of the best sleeps you have had for a long time.
We went to my parents house for a few days to visit small town and country life. I grew up in a small town a few hours from Toronto. So did my mom, and my dad. And my grandparents.....
I left home for college the summer after high school graduation, I was 17. Since then I have not gone back for more that 2 weeks, more than a visit. I love my family, and it's nice to get out of the city for a few days, but I don't see myself living there.
I wanted my boyfriend to see my roots, my family, the first 17 years of my life. But I was quite nervous. I thought, how can this boy who has lived in Paris, France his entire life possibly enjoy himself in this small town? Lo and behold, he did. Who knew spending the day on my uncle's farm would be such an excellent thing to do?
The wonderful day was composed of four-wheeling, mud puddles, cows watching, mosquito swatting, kittens, kayaking in ponds, beer drinking in the forest, beer drinking by the barn, beer drinking by the drive-way, beer drinking by the pond, my uncle falling into the pond, dog's chasing four-wheelers, sunset, splashpants, spaghetti with marshmallows, bunnies, warm rain.... this helped me appreciate more where I came from.
I used to be bored by things like that, or make up excuses to my dad when he would invite me to come to his brothers farm. I look back and feel so lazy and disappointed for not appreciating the beauty and pleasure that could be found so easily around me. But this day was different, I am older and have traveled and seen more of the world, I have experienced 10x more than what I ever could have imagined. And so I was seeing this small town, my history, in a completely different light. I prefer this light. I will keep that day in my memory.
It's the kind of wonderful day that you think of often. Little moments from it pop into your head every so often and put a smile on your face, or even laugh out loud a little. But also make you a little bit sad, because it can't be repeated. It was too perfect to replicate. I know these types of days very well, and consider myself lucky. It was one of those days that was just so full of energy and movement and wonderful conversations, that by the end of the night you are so exhausted from the constant excitement, that all you can do is sigh, and smile, and have one of the best sleeps you have had for a long time.
6.29.2009
the dirt in your fries.
I have been listening repeatedly this. I. Can't. Stop. And watching it. That kiss, when they are at the dump. It melts me.
But that's ok, because I guess I will soon have it memorized, which will be helpful because I am also learning to play it on the guitar. I have so much free time on my hands.... I am trying to so hard to keep myself occupied. Because if I don't I will think. And every time my mind wanders I just think about love. And how much I miss mine. I left it in France. I left a lot of things in France. Some books, some bras, some jewelry, and the love of my life. Kissing goodbye in airports is the hardest thing to do. I played up the moment for weeks before it happened. What would the last words I say to him be? How long would we kiss. Would I cry? Would there be people watching? Would I care? What would his mouth taste like? What would mine taste like? ....And then the airline I was flying with fucked everything up, by not processing my online payment, meaning I was not actually listed as a passenger on the plane. So my last moments with him were spent with a quick but meaningful kiss, and many many tears (on my end), and his father standing waiting to go home. Then I rushed through the gates so I wouldn't miss my flight.
Let me explain how the airline owes me $756.00 Canadian.
No, let me rant.
So when I arrive at the airport for about the 100th flight of my life I go to check-in as always. Never had a problem before. She takes my online print-out and my passport, and says nothing but says "excusez-moi un moment".... and goes and makes a phone call. I'm sweating and swearing and asking my boyfriend and his dad to eavesdrop. They can't hear her. She comes back and says that I am not listed as a passenger on the plane. So sends us up to the airline office, to get in a long line just to deal with someone who is clearly not interested at all in my problem. She says the payment didn't go through. And I say yes it did, I saw it on my Mastercard bill. "Desolee Madamemoiselle...." So I had to buy another damn ticket and she said don't worry they will refund you. You see, if I didn't make this flight, it meant that I was illegally staying in the country because my Visa expired that day. And if I stayed past that day it would ruin my chances of getting another visa. So ya....it's been four weeks and I'm still waiting for my $756.00
Some good news!!!!
But that's ok, because I guess I will soon have it memorized, which will be helpful because I am also learning to play it on the guitar. I have so much free time on my hands.... I am trying to so hard to keep myself occupied. Because if I don't I will think. And every time my mind wanders I just think about love. And how much I miss mine. I left it in France. I left a lot of things in France. Some books, some bras, some jewelry, and the love of my life. Kissing goodbye in airports is the hardest thing to do. I played up the moment for weeks before it happened. What would the last words I say to him be? How long would we kiss. Would I cry? Would there be people watching? Would I care? What would his mouth taste like? What would mine taste like? ....And then the airline I was flying with fucked everything up, by not processing my online payment, meaning I was not actually listed as a passenger on the plane. So my last moments with him were spent with a quick but meaningful kiss, and many many tears (on my end), and his father standing waiting to go home. Then I rushed through the gates so I wouldn't miss my flight.
Let me explain how the airline owes me $756.00 Canadian.
No, let me rant.
So when I arrive at the airport for about the 100th flight of my life I go to check-in as always. Never had a problem before. She takes my online print-out and my passport, and says nothing but says "excusez-moi un moment".... and goes and makes a phone call. I'm sweating and swearing and asking my boyfriend and his dad to eavesdrop. They can't hear her. She comes back and says that I am not listed as a passenger on the plane. So sends us up to the airline office, to get in a long line just to deal with someone who is clearly not interested at all in my problem. She says the payment didn't go through. And I say yes it did, I saw it on my Mastercard bill. "Desolee Madamemoiselle...." So I had to buy another damn ticket and she said don't worry they will refund you. You see, if I didn't make this flight, it meant that I was illegally staying in the country because my Visa expired that day. And if I stayed past that day it would ruin my chances of getting another visa. So ya....it's been four weeks and I'm still waiting for my $756.00
Some good news!!!!
I am going to be a student of Archeology and Art
History at La Sorbonne in Paris, France in September!
History at La Sorbonne in Paris, France in September!
I am so excited and so relieved. All of the studying I did for the language test in February and March paid off.
5.26.2009
la période d'orages pourrait durer encore
BIG news:
I'm leaving Paris this Saturday. I can't even make plans for this weekend. Ahhhh wierd. I'm sad. I keep feeling sorry for myself that I'm leaving Paris. I'm being selfish. But I'm coming back in September. YE$$$$ I am. So really, my summer in Canada is just a 3 month vacation seeing my wonderful friends and family.
Last night it thunderstormed! Beautiful summer heat, 4 days in a row, 30 degrees that stays hot into the night can only result in summer rain. At around 10:30 last night O and I went to go meet a woman at metro Vavin. O was buying a guitar from her. This woman was amazing. She was so cozy, and talking about wonderful things and kind of ressembled Maril $treep. She was British, living in Paris for over 10 years. Working in cultural events around Paris, and tourism. She was very maternal, probably in her mid 40's. We should have gone to a cafe with her, instead of sitting on a bench in the shadow of a building. I tuned the guitar, then played 4 of the 10 chords I know. Impre$$ive. Then it started to pour. mmmm summer rain, je t'aime.
I'm leaving Paris this Saturday. I can't even make plans for this weekend. Ahhhh wierd. I'm sad. I keep feeling sorry for myself that I'm leaving Paris. I'm being selfish. But I'm coming back in September. YE$$$$ I am. So really, my summer in Canada is just a 3 month vacation seeing my wonderful friends and family.
Last night it thunderstormed! Beautiful summer heat, 4 days in a row, 30 degrees that stays hot into the night can only result in summer rain. At around 10:30 last night O and I went to go meet a woman at metro Vavin. O was buying a guitar from her. This woman was amazing. She was so cozy, and talking about wonderful things and kind of ressembled Maril $treep. She was British, living in Paris for over 10 years. Working in cultural events around Paris, and tourism. She was very maternal, probably in her mid 40's. We should have gone to a cafe with her, instead of sitting on a bench in the shadow of a building. I tuned the guitar, then played 4 of the 10 chords I know. Impre$$ive. Then it started to pour. mmmm summer rain, je t'aime.
5.23.2009
chronologiques
I haven't posted something in atleast a month.
Life is continuing to amaze with the beautiful things that surround me.
But also continuing to disappoint me other times.
Bittersweet.
Life is continuing to amaze with the beautiful things that surround me.
But also continuing to disappoint me other times.
Bittersweet.
kissed a stuffed pink turtle
laid in bed for hours
cried almost everyday
laughed every day
breakfast and lunch in bed
homemadapancakes
Eugène Onegin, a Tchaikovsky ballet
lots and lots of kisses
gelato
wine drinking in the streets of Paris
4 star hotel room
running through vineyards
country house
dinner parties with bowls of sangria
the mediterranean sea
photo shoots
playing dress - up with friends
cool spring nights spent beside warm fires
laid in bed for hours
cried almost everyday
laughed every day
breakfast and lunch in bed
homemadapancakes
Eugène Onegin, a Tchaikovsky ballet
lots and lots of kisses
gelato
wine drinking in the streets of Paris
4 star hotel room
running through vineyards
country house
dinner parties with bowls of sangria
the mediterranean sea
photo shoots
playing dress - up with friends
cool spring nights spent beside warm fires
4.07.2009
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....
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
yeahhhh
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
