ROCK BAND!!!!!!!!!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! i AM GOING TO GO PLAY ROCK BAND TIL I DROP NOW!!!

Arc en ciel

J'en ai vu un cet après-midi, en rentrant. Il était à moi cette fois, et à personne d'autre.

Insomniac

Je crois que c'est à cause du chocolat. Je ne peux pas dormir. Pourquoiii, o destin, me torturez-vous? Qu'ai-je fait pour mériter une telle torture? Une nuit si tourmentée d'ombres morbides.... Non je plaisante. Le seul bruit est celui des voitures qui passent. Il est calme.

Pourtant...dormir...

La follia

Mon cher Gabriel,

Je deviens folle en ce moment. Je n'ai pas d'autre explication. Cette folie serait dûe au stress du moment, et l'anticipation d'un moment de répit. A chaque fois que j'entends certaines choses, mes pensées courent au pire des fins, elles n'arrêtent qu'après l'avoir atteint. Cela arrive de plus en plus souvent. Qu'elles soient rationnelles ou pas, les tensions du moment me laissent vulnerable à tout.

M'échapper, c'est tout ce que je désire en ce moment. Du solitude et du silence, pour que me propres pensées puissent fleurir. J'imagine depuis toujours que mon centre est un cérisier en fleur. Cela fait longtemps que je ne l'ai pas vu.

Je lisais un roman de fantaisie--Howl's Moving Castle-- au travail, et on m'a félicitée de garder "a young, free spirit." Je fus surprise, mais seulement parce que je pensais, "Mais, c'est la seule façon de vivre!" Voilà l'univers dans lequel je me trouve. Et lui--il habite un monde totalement contraire. J'ai l'impression de ne trouver que des gens avec cet esprit enfantin et "libre." Comme si le mot "libre" signifie quelque chose.

Mais le pire est la haine que je sens monter en moi depuis des mois. Je n'ai pas encore trouver un moyen de l'évacuer, donc elle réside en moi. Je ne l'ai jamais ressentie avant il y a deux ans. Elle est la pire de tout... Auparavant j'aurais ri 1a certaines choses qui me font exploser aujourd'hui. Que me manque-t-il pour que j'absorbe ce sentiment? C'est bien fatiguant. J'aimerais m'en débarrasser. Il brouille mes moments de repos.

Qu'est-ce que je ferais pour un moment de solitude! De tranquilité!

101 Dalmations

En fait, il n'y a pas de dalmations dans cette inscription, mais je suis à 101, le titre lui sied bien.

Cette semaine fut parfaite. J'ai appris des choses intéressantes au travail et dans la vie personnelle. J'ai vu que le bonheur s'empare d'un sourire, des larmes tombent seulement lorsqu'on leur le permettent. J'ai lu le dernier tome de Harry Potter, enfin! La fin--je ne peux pas trop en dire, par crainte de trop révéler à ceux qui ne l'ont pas lu. Elle est remarquable.

Mes pensées semblent ralentir en ce moment. Tout est figé autour de moi. Même au piano, je n'ai pu rien sortir. Tout semblait enfantin, mais pas inspiré. Je cherche un autre éclat d'inspiration, comme pour les deux dernières chansons. Elles s'écrivent très rapidement une fois l'idée arrive. Le reste du temps, il faut vivre au lieu de les attendre. Pourtant, c'est la saison de Noël. Tant de bonnes chansons de Noël sont déjà composées, et pour faire chanter ma famille, il faut choisir des chansons connues! J'ai hâte de les revoir....

J'ai encore plus hâte de LE revoir. J'ai des moments de bonheur sans lui ici, mais après, quand j'ai envie de partager tel ou tel moment avec lui, je me rappelle qu'il n'est pas là. Il est grande source de bonheur pour moi, et parfois de malheur. Tel est l'amour, telle est la vie! Cependant je ne voudrais personne d'autre que lui. Cette épreuve n'est pas éternelle, et nous allons réussir. Je le sais au fond de moi. Parfois, je m'égare du chemin, c'est tout. Parfois la lumière s'éteint pour un moment, mais je réussis toujours à le retrouver.

Ribbons undone

Un jour, risque-je avoir un enfant dans mes bras, à mes pieds--un adolescent rebel et colérique--une autre personne à qui je donnerais vie? Bizarrement, je n'ai jamais été trop attirée par cet aspect de la vie. Sauf, maintenant, une autre personne voudrait les avoir dans l'avenir. Pas tout de suite, ce n'est pas possible. Mais suis-je ouverte à la possibilité? Je serais prête à le faire pour lui, mais personnellement, l'idée ne me tente pas. Peut-être un jour plus tard.

golden handcuffs

Ils m'ont prise! J'utilise l'argument que je vais gagner beaucoup d'argent pour soutenir ma famille, notre maison, l'assurance de vie, les voitures, les enfants...mais....des milliards de gens possèdent ces choses sans poursuivre ce métier. Mais je ne les veux pas!!! Enlèvez-les, laissez-moi l'âme et l'esprit et cet amour pur, je vous en supplie...

J'ai dit des choses par désespoir, par espoir, par frustration et amour et devoir...mais pas de la bonne façon. Je ne pouvais pas me croire capable de dire des telles choses à lui. Je ne lui demande pas d'avoir cette ambition-là, je pourrai l'atteindre toute seule. Mais tant de choses sont devant nous, et j'ai l'impression de courir sans avancer. Je dois me dire que tout finira bien, car je vais y arriver un jour.... Ces océans de mots ont un sens, je me l'assure. Ces papiers infinis mènent quelque part.

2 oiseaux, au-dessus de la terre...

It burns!

Lemon juice in the eye!

Lemon juice on crab cakes--good!

Le Philosophe dans la Cuisine

Je suis en train de lire ce livre de Brillat-Savarin, gourmand extraordinaire et...avocat. Il nous offre des observations sur le gourmandisme assez étonnantes pour leur précision. Elles sont frappantes à travers les siècles. Il décrit l'obesité, ses causes, et sa prévalence dans la haute société. Ce n'est pas un bel état car les membres du corps sont déformés, les activités quotidiennes deviennent désagréables, voire impossibles. Il remarque que l'obesité est surtout prévalente chez les gens qui mènent une vie aisée et qui mangent beaucoup d'amidons (les pommes de terre, le pain, les pâtes...). Véritablement? J'ai été surprise de lire une telle observation. Nous parlons de telles crises sociales dûes à la mauvaise alimentation. Depuis longtemps, je prône les amidons car ils seuls ne peuvent pas faire grossir. Cela reste vrai. Je croyais que cette "guerre" contre les amidons étaient une création des industries de viande ou des gens contre l'OGM ou les subventions agricoles. Pourtant, sous mes yeux, j'ai une raconte d'un des gourmands les plus connus de l'histoire. Il a noté ce même phénomène. Souvent, il suffit de regarder en arrière afin de comprendre le présent.

Cela ne veut pas dire que je vais commencer à dénigrer les amidons. Ils ne font pas grossir eux mêmes. Les gens (à part ceux qui ont des véritables maladies) se font grossir en trop mangeant, en ne pas ayant des activités physiques, et, selon Brillat-Savarin, en ne pas dormant suffisamment.

Son livre est très précis sur autres éléments de la cuisine. Il divise les étapes de cuisson des viandes à merveil. Il comprend bien "la science des rêves" sans utiliser trop de termes techniques. Il comprend surtout l'intéraction humaine. Si vous aimez la vie ou la cuisine, je vous conseille fortement de lire "Le Philosophe dans la Cuisine."

La misanthrope

Je crois que je deviens Alceste petit à petit. Le monde me dégoûte, ses luttes constantes pour le pouvoir, la célébrité, l'argent, l'amour (le sexe glorifié?). Les gens me détournent de la société. Je ne veux pas les devenir, je ne veux plus y penser. Je ne sais pas exactement ce qui provoque ces émotions. Une surcharge d'information? Les émeutes à Paris? La politique envers les immigrés qui y participent (avant, pendant, et après la violence)? Les histoires des amours cassés et déséspèrement recollés avec un peu de scotch dans un placard? être jugé par des chiffres ou des lettres qui, finalement, n'ont aucun rapport avec la véritable valeur d'une personne?

En quoi, en qui, puis-je confier ma confiance? Auparavent, c'était moi. Maintenant, après avoir fait le choix de la confier à un autre, je dois faire l'effort afin de réussir.

Up in smoke

A new day, new prospects, new hope. I can progress. I need to relax.

He tells me that I had demons to burn. I think he's right. They've been coming back now and again, because I've thought of this or that, or something that I remember seeing at his house. Something that made me wonder if he (and I) were able to progress together. I guess it's all gone now. I can't ask for any more. There's nothing more of which to rid myself.

He sent me 2 cards that reminded me of the South, my favorite place on earth. Lavender and street cats. It reminded me of Arles, and my dear Provence. He always knows what makes me happy. I can guess at what makes him happy.

I think I've been frustrated recently because of the internet communication. I talk first, I don't receive an adequate response, and that leads me to try to communicate more to elicit a response. Of course, it doesn't work because then he gets annoyed and stops talking. We need to find a better way. Letters. Paper. photos. something other than words on a screen. Gabriel...et pour te parler, il faut des mots sur un écran. J'en ai tellement besoin--m'exprimer. C'est la seule façon pour moi de vider mon esprit. S'il ne peut pas tout absorber, je dois essayer de trouver un autre récipient de pensées. Même avec un journal en papier et un journal numérique, des chansons et des pages de photos...tout cela ne suffit pas. Parler--voilà ce qui me manque parfois. Ce n'est pas toujours à lui à m'écouter. Pinky?

Anyway, it is up in smoke. The past isn't dead or denied. It's just past, and we are working on clearing the land for a new life.

Ever onward, darling wind.

The pleasure of eating

If there is one thing that makes me sad (maybe I have little to be sad over, but this is important nonetheless), it is seeing people who not only fail to derive pleasure from food, but feel guilty for enjoying it. So, what is their remedy? Not eat? Impossible. People need to eat. Food provides an extraordinarily sensory experience. Sight, taste, smell, sound, and touch. All of those things that numbers and "scientific studies" have distorted.

No, potatoes won't make you fat. Carbs are not "bad." You won't get fat if you eat a piece of dark chocolate cake.

However, you will be miserable if you consistently tell yourself such things, and you fail to recognize that you MUST EAT. Often. to live.

Moreover, what WILL make you fat is depriving yourself of something you love, such as a cookie, and then one day, finding yourself in a room alone with a box of cookies. After lying to yourself and saying that one cookie will make you fat, and after depriving yourself of one small pleasure and letting it fester in your mind and your stomach, what will happen? One box of cookies will disappear into the depths of your stomach, and will cloud your thoughts to the point of insanity. Keep it up, and you WILL be the obese monster you feared you would become.

People are better than this. There is so much pleasure found in a bowl of chicken stew--the chicken cooked so long it slides off the bone, the vegetables rich with the heady savors of wine, thyme, and melded with the other ingredients of the pot. The whole scooped up with thick chunks of warm bread. Afterward, close the meal with a rich dark chocolate cake. A meal needs to end well to satisfy you until the next. Pleasure should dominate your experience.

Eat when you're hungry, and stop when you're full. Don't feel guilty for eating because people need to eat. If you overeat one day, take a salad the next meal, but don't tell yourself, "I'm not going to eat x anymore" because it's not true, and you will make yourself miserable for having broken an impossible promise.

Eat, my friends, and love it.

Thanksgiving

I haven't had such a good Thanksgiving in a while. See, we can make dinner for 10. It was perfect, both times! A good meal in good company. I am so glad to be able to enjoy that.

Time

You know what, Gabriel, it doesn't matter when we can be together. I think I care enough to wait 100 years. We were both frustrated and upset that our plans are not going as we hoped, that it's going to take so long before we can be together. But, really, it doesn't matter as long as we know that one day that option is there, and that we both want it. That's what I hope. I would rather just hope than think of a plan and be frustrated afterward. That's probably why I prefer thinking of what our house is going to be like, and what our wedding will be.

Just knowing that someone is there across the ocean is enough. I don't want to ruin it by trying to plan something unless it has a high chance of success. Right now, it's a temporary stage in my life. We shouldn't plan based on a temporary situation.

Tout ce que je veux, tout ce que je veux depuis 2 ans est partager cet amour. Il est toujours parfait car il dirige tout--le bonheur, la tranquilité, la frustration, la colère, le bruit et le silence. Il est dans tout.

We were engaged in July, and he is still the one I want to spend my life with. Or even--he is the only one I ever wanted to spend it with.

Grève

Je fais grève jusqu'à après Thanksgiving. Nous avons tous les deux besoin de temps. Je suis débordée, je sature d'émotions. Il n'y a pas de haine ou de malice, mais j'en ai besoin. Temps.

YAY YAY YAY

Vielle vielle vielle. 6 months 6 months 6 months. yay yay yay. vielle vielle vielle.

Merci mon coeur de m'encourager à obtenir l'instrument de mes rêves!!!

vielle vielle vielle. vielle vielle vielle.

Wow and woW

Three very important events occurred today.

1: I ordered my vielle à roue. However, I initially ordered it in G, but then I went back and checked and discovered I needed to have it tuned in D! So--I just sent KERBOEUF an e-mail correcting myself. He's probably thinking, "Stupid person is buying my handcrafted instrument." Hehehe...well.... It will be tuned in D now, I hope, because the type of music I want to play is tuned in D. Yess....I will be in business in 6 months. Then, I will need to learn how to tune it, and take care of it, and wash it and feed it and hug it and kiss it....my vielle.... How I have waited for you so long.... I AM SO EXCITED!!

2: I got the Immigration internship. Yes. I knew I was coherent to myself in the interview, but I wasn't sure I was coherent to the 3 people in front of me. I guess I was.

3: Skype is on strike. GOOD. I was beginning to feel suffocated by it. He was becoming unresponsive, which would just make me angry, and then the situation would spiral downward from there. I like that. Quality conversation, not quantity. I feel like I've been glued to my Skype for the past month now. It just happened, I didn't even want it to. It's a good thing. We need some time apart so we can live life and prepare for exams and other things. It's getting busy now. I have a monster paper to write (hopefully by noon tomorrow), and 4 exams to prepare. I have my music to work on, and books to read. He's got games to play, people to see... Really he amazes me. He's really changed so much since the beginning of our relation. He's been wonderful throughout. George Sand says that love is believing in the superiority of the being one loves, and that without it, all that is left is friendship. Well--he's pretty special, even if he does play computer games. He dances with me when I ask him. He also feeds me. So no Skype. I am ready to beat this software into the ground. I don't know how it happened, but at 6,000 miles apart we managed to get TOO CLOSE. No longer. We can live normal lives now.

Rainy Day Man

I have a hero, his name is....well, he's my hero. He ordered my method book for the vielle à roue!! Yes! Bernard Kerboeuf had given me his name and his address, only I didn't know that it was his address. Finally, I figured it out, and found the author on www.pagesblanches.fr. And then I told him, and he ordered it. :) Even if I don't have a vielle à roue by Christmas, I will certainly have a method book to pore over beforehand.

Tomorrow, I am going to call Mr. Kerboeuf and order my first vielle. Tomorrow, and from there--6 months til showtime.

I was happy to see him, but he seemed preoccupied and frustrated. I hope he could solve his problem.

We talked about an article I had seen in the Washingtonian, about women who donate their eggs to fertility clinics. The ones interviewed were professional, women with careers who simply don't want (any more) children, are compassionate toward those unfortunate couples who cannot conceive, and don't mind taking a cocktail of hormones--for perhaps $6,000-$8,000 per egg culling.

Now, at first, I though, "That might be a good idea. I bet I could get more money than that because of my high education [it's true, better educated donors, more beautiful ones, and more successful ones sell for more money.]." But then I thought, "Wait, that means I would have 1/2 of me running around fertilized by someone else's sperm." I know I would have nothing to do with the process once my eggs were donated, but I really didn't like that idea. Actually, my hero pointed that out to me.

It's a strange feeling. On one hand, you'd be populating the earth, without the pain of child birth! On the other hand, you're populating the earth and you won't know about it.

Maybe it's not sch a good idea. Like, if my significant other had donated to some fertility program, I would feel very strange knowing his children were being born in some unknown person's life. I wouldn't like it.

So--definitely no donations of reproductive material.

-----

In other news, well, yesterday. I don't know why that dream would affect me so much. The whole day was just awful. "Just a nightmare." And today, we just acted like it didn't happen. I feel like we need to talk about it. If there's one thing that bugs me more than being upset, it's not talking about it to allay any issues. I wish we could do that better. Today was not the best--he was busy, and I was busy. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow, when we both have time.

Epuisée

I feel tired, all the way down to my slipped discs. Today I can hardly lift my arms or putter on over to school. It probably has something to do with my dream, but I don't want to talk about it any more.

But yes--tired, and it's Wednesday, the longest day of the week made longer by an evening meeting.

---20h04
You guessed it--I skipped my evening meeting. Oh well. I probably couldn't concentrate anyway. I think I've started seeing things--people more precisely--one person, even more precisely.

I have a boatload of stuff to do tonight. I just need to turn the emotions off.

Roots

Maybe I should become a vegetarian. Being bombarded left and right with accounts of how livestock are raised and slaughtered for human consumption has just left me disgusted with the whole process--chickens, cows, veal, fish, milk.

But then again, vegetables and produce too--spinach recalls and farm subsidies aren't pretty either.

Maybe I should just stop eating everything that comes from a store and make my own food. That would be great, yeah right.

And I wish people would stop operating puppy mills already. But then again--why stop there? Why keep building, why keep letting China pollute itself into oblivion, why let humans proliferate???

There is just so much....

This may be it

Bernard Kerboeuf, I believe YOU will manufacture with tender loving care my very first vielle à roue. I have a name for this creature not yet in existence, but I will wait until she is in my hands before I reveal it.

Vielle à roue

I want it. so bad. *sigh* But I still need to wait at least 2-3 years for it. Sad. Elle ne voit pas la valeur d'un tel instrument car elle ne l'a jamais vu. Enfin, c'est exactement pour cela que je veux être capable de l'avoir sans lui rien demander. Moi. moi moi moi. Sauf--je dois attendre 2 ans, voire 3, voire 4. Ces 3 ans sont un gaspillage de temps. Je gaspille mon énergie, ma vie, ma jeunesse. Je ne serai qu'un tailleur à la fin. Avec argent, sans âme.

Foundation

What we're doing is admirable, yes? I mean, I have some friends who are having difficulties when they only live 100 miles apart. You can drive there for a weekend, no problem. This is, what--6,000 miles we're talking about now? At least. I kind of feel bad that he has to use up his vacation to come to this place, which might not be the most exotic in the world. Couples who live together don't have to worry about when or how they're going to see each other again. They can plan their vacations to Bali or Egypt without any of that. We just need to plan 3 months in advance when we can just see each other, and because that effort is so great, it usually is not in any place other than the other person's abode.

I mean--there is a very large difference in scale. If we've seen each other in my little flat, that means someone has crossed an ocean. Right now we don't have the luxury of planning our global treks--they will have to wait, because having the chance to plan dinner under the same roof is an enormous accomplishment.

However, it has been very rewarding. We're both working hard on it. It's a good feeling to know that, 6,000 miles away, someone is faithful and devoted to you. The level of trust and motivation between the couple must be much higher than that of many other couples who have always been together. That's one thing we can be sure of at this point. We've developed a different type of relationship than the traditional one. It's a completely different type of project that brings you back to the core of love. It's not always about living new experiences because distance prevents that. It's about learning to feel comfortable with yourself and being creative in your expression. There are only so many things to do with distance, but you always have to find something new. It's just different.

I guess right now, it's a little difficult because we cannot plan these huge "vacations" or how to share Saturday night. Circumstances have just required us to have different priorities. Then, when finally we can share a house and a meal and plan our tour of the world, we can be sure that the foundation of the relation was firmly constructed. It's like we're rendering the ground stable and solid for future use.

Game theory and the Environment

Good reasoning. Where uncertainty about whether or not global warming is occurring is high, it is a good idea to undertake a risk analysis of action v. inaction. It's like choosing to run out of the building or not when you hear a fire alarm go off at 2am. You might not know if it's a true emergency, but basically, it's better to be safe than sorry.

It makes sense, right? I think so. I know some people who say that global warming isn't happening. I don't know, really, but it does make sense. Better safe than sorry. Isn't that what we teach our kids? I mean, it's much easier to argue for raising taxes to save the environment than to raise taxes to fund a war, no matter what the war is.

Freshen up for fall

A face lift for Gabriel was in order. It looks more season-appropriate now, perhaps.

Sarko! My love!

Have I not yet expressed my love for Nicolas Sarkozy? I mean, he has it all--he's powerful, he's French, he's not quite tall, nor handsome, but he may be considered dark... I'm not so sure. In any case, he seems to be working hard to pull France out of its 300 year slump and give the French a legitimate reason to be proud of their nationality.

He's got it all. He's even in town for a few days, and he's single. What more could I want? Shouldn't I just call him or something? Sarko--do you want to get a drink with me at Madam's Organ and hear some good ol' DC rock? Why now? We can talk about the evils of corporate taxes, of social security, of free riders and moochers. We can talk about the law, we can talk about culture. JFK? I saw you at the opera in July, in Orange. They were playing Il Trovatore by Verdi.

And then, when the wine (or bourbon, your choice) starts to dance its ways through your sense, we can speak of other things, like power, and how to wield it. The individual, and how to value her. Money, and how to earn it.

I have much faith in you, Monsieur le Président. Much faith, and much optimism.

Chocolate omelet

I meant to make a chocolate cake. I had bought a new hand mixer with which to mix my batter. My eggs were beaten to perfection. My chocolate was, and still is, top notch. The sugar was perfectly measured. Only--I forgot the flour--somehow. So now I have a nice fluffy chocolate omelet. It is delicious served warm, with a nice glass of cold milk.

mmmm

I love Imogen Heap.

Let go.

#*$@%&!#

Damn, I'm just going Crazy. not good.

Epiphany

I think the gods are telling me to go back to France as soon as I graduate, and not linger in California. All the signs indicate that I can be successful there, and not so much here. I've got more friends there than here. I am more comfortable with the languages. I am familiar and embrace the culture over there. I should be the one to move, not him. After all, I don't have a fixed job, and he does.

There are just some moments when you realize that life is pulling you one way, when you've been thinking it's pulling you another. France has been pulling me toward her for 20 years now. California...

I think the key is in the Old World. I mean...I did create that facebook group "My goal in life is to be French."

N'est-ce pas?

so good

I discovered a website called Visa Journey. It is a forum for people with foreign fiancés, family members, spouses, etc., and want to bring them to the US. Such a subject that has been haunting me for the past year! I looked through the requirements. It will take time, whether we do it ourselves, or go through a lawyer. We need to provide proof of our relationship, like chat logs (there must be literally 100s of pages), e-mails (idem.), and letters (some). Pictures too. The process takes at least five months, I think, and all just to see if you are accepted or denied. They can't even tell you before. And of course, there are interviews, I need to prove my citizenship status. I hadn't realized love is so bureaucratic. I need to prepare myself, just in case the lottery doesn't work out, or the job search.

We talked today about things again, and he shared with me some things he hadn't shared before. That's the meaning of this ring--it's more than the fact we're engaged. It means that we're going to cross an ocean to live together. And with the ring, he's given me such a significant symbol--it encompasses his grandmother, her values, transferred to him, and his own sentiment. It's as if he's given me a piece of his history. The most significant I could have up to this point, since it was reserved just for his fiancée. That's me. What a privilege, yes? I cannot believe the effort we have put into this relationship. Both of us. We've managed to incorporate each other into our daily lives malgré les obstacles. Even if things are a little uncertain, I easily prefer this over any other relationship where the couple shares the same roof and doesn't share the same spirit. We have accomplished so much.

My dream

Last night, I dreamt of our wedding. It apparently was a rushed affair. We were at some little church with dark wooden beams and white painted walls, and a burgundy carpet (the grandmotherly kind). The stained glass was unremarkable. We were negotiating with the managers over prices, because the wedding was that afternoon. There would only be close family. We finally agreed on something, and I rushed home to find my baroque music for the affair. However, it wasn't there. There was only some of that old-fashioned organ music. Bleh. So then, I think we had to have the old music. Later that night, we were in a dark room, lit by candlelight. It looked like a room Gaudi himself might have designed, concrete with bits of tile or glass embedded everywhere. That was our reception.

Honestly, I have no idea what the actual wedding will look like.

Happy birthday

I'm working on my bike machine, because i don't have a real bike.

I'm also thinking about seeing if there are other musicians around who would be interested in playing with me. I am a little apprehensive of just looking at posts online or ads, just because it's so hit-or-miss. It's great if I were to get a hit, though.

I am having my periodic period of doubt about wanting to be a lawyer. What's so great about it anyway? Money? I guess. But it doesn't hide the fact that the job lacks any outlet for personality or personal expression. You are, after all, your client's agent. Client.

Aaahhh, I don't know.

----
And this weekend, he had his birthday party. It was a huge success because he carefully planned all of the dinner. I had helped him choose a menu, so I could participate in some way. I also sent him the song at midnight exactly, just when I said I would. He said he loves it. I like it when he can see his friends. He said it was a sort of goodbye, because he doesn't anticipate being able to host them all--he plans to be on this side of the ocean.

I think we've evolved int the type of couple composed of two halves, the kind that makes you want to run away screaming when you see it because they're just so loovvving. Oh well. We're joined at the hip at 6000 miles. It's pretty good, actually. I feel we're much closer than most couples who live under the same roof. Beyond comparison, the kind that most people only wish they were in. It's perfect. Perfect.

But in the end, I still don't know if I want to be a lawyer.

From now til Sunday

Sunday is not so far away, less than 2 hours away. Whippoorwill recorded a new song that can be found here.

Next step--the public awaits...

NoOOOoO

2 herniated discs??? NOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I'm too young for this!!!!

not that way!

Une lettre ouverte pour les fées qui contrôlent le vent et le feu:

S'il vous plaît, ne mangez pas ma maison, avec toute l'histoire de ma vie dedans. Et surtout, épargnez la santé et la vie de ceux que j'aime.

Je vous remercie de votre considération.

Amis....

Je ne suis pas là pour être son amie. Je suis là pour lui montrer qu'il est son meilleur ami.

recording

I love recording music. my music. love love love. i wish i could do this for a living.

Cancer treatment scandal in France

Perhaps hundreds of cancer treatment patients in France were given excessive doses of radiation during their treatment.

Technology always comes with a price. There is, of course, a problem of accountability. And how much good can it do for those who have already been afflicted with health problems after treatment? After already having combated cancer?

A quiet evening

This evening made me happy. Who is John Galt??????

Happy happy happy.

Now all I want to do is sleep....

zzz....

Pas d'amour?

J'ai vu des choses cette semaine qui me font refléchir sur le sexe, son rôle dans la vie. La première chose est un article sur des viols dans la république démocratique du congo et un documentaire sur des hommes qui préfère avoir un rapport sexuel avec des poupées. Dans l'article, le sexe devient une arme. Il démoralise, il terrorise, il blesse physiquement et moralement. Dans le vidéo, le sexe avec une poupée devient une déclaration à la société que la personne est indépendante, qu'elle ne cherche pas l'amour. Tout cela mélangé avec des histoires et des histoires.

Dans le vidéo, un homme a même cherché une amie pour partager les expériences qu'une poupée n'offre pas--des conversations, un repas, un film. Il a compris la différence? Peut-être, peut-être pas...il les soigne tendrement. Les autres hommes aiment leurs poupées. Ils préfèrent leur compagnie à celle des humains.

Il est facile de tout accepter si l'on croit que le sexe ne sert qu'à des fonctions biologiques. L'amour et le sexe sont indépendants l'un de l'autre pour certains. Mais pour les autres qui ne veulent pas mener leur vie "amoureuse" dirigés par les instincts biologiques? Par la séduction? Leurs conceptions ne valent pas moins. Ils sont déjà entourés de choses qui leur illustrent "le contraire."

Quelle est ma conception? Que l'on ne s'engage que si l'on a considérer la personne entière--corps et esprit. On ne le fait que par choix, la passion a un rôle à jouer, mais elle est soumise à la raison. On ne le fait qu'avec une personne que l'on estime. On ne le fait que par amour pour la personne en face de vous, pas par amour ou par haine d'une autre personne, pas pour une autre personne, pas à cause d'une autre personne. Il est pour la personne en face de vous, et pour vous. Il indique que vous daignez cette personne égale.

Il serait fort difficile pour moi d'être avec quelqu'un qui applique "le contraire" dans sa vie. Qu'est-ce qui resterait intime au couple si l'un croyait que l'intimité n'est pas sacrée? Je crois que j'ai compris cela dans des conversations. Je ne sais pas si cela lui est aussi important que pour moi. Je me suis sentie deçue à ce niveau ce jour là, car une chose qui est sacrée pour moi (et je ne peux pas vous le dire combien) ne semble pas l'être autant pour lui. Il y avait quelque chose dans sa façon de me l'expliquer qui m'a rendue très mal à l'aise. Chez les autres, dans le passé, même dans l'avenir--on n'y trouve pas toujours d'amour--mais maintenant? Je ne le veux jamais quand l'amour n'y est pas.

whfff

Tout se passe si bien, n'est-ce pas? J'ai rendez-vous pour un IRM. Apparemment, c'est très ennuyeux car il ne faut pas bouger pendant une demie-heure. Je savais que je suis née pour l'aventure. De toute façon, j'espère que l'on trouve la source du mal. Je peux à peine marcher pendant 7 minutes maintenant. Ma jambe lâche juste aux portes de l'école.

J'ai eu une bonne conversation qui a rendu les prochaines 2 années claires.....jusqu'au moment où j'ai parlé avec la reine. Elle n'avait pas l'air content. Elle me doute depuis longtemps maintenant. Je ne sais pas ce qui la rendrait heureuse. Rien que je fais est bien pour elle maintenant. Les moments de doute sur mon chemin--je ne sais pas ce qu'elle veut pour moi--le bonheur? Mais, il est possible que son idée sur mon bonheur et la mienne ne soient pas pareilles. Cela me rappelle une chanson composée il y a si longtemps (et que je ne sais plus jouer d'ailleurs...) "And if I find it too hard, I'll lay me down..." Juste--pour lui plaire--il me semble un tache monumental, voire impossible. Je dis à tout le monde qu'elle semble heureuse maintenant, mais je ne sais pas si c'est vrai, surtout quand elle me parle.

Vacances

Mon cher Gabriel,

Tout d'abord, je ne peux pas t'exprimer assez le bonheur que j'ai ressenti pendant ces dernières deux semaines. J'étais intouchable. Nous avons si bien réussi ces vacances ensemble. J'ai remarqué des changements en nous. Nous nous comprenons de mieux en mieux. Nous n'avons pas cessé de découvrir.

Il est incroyable de l'observer et de constater les changements en lui. Je parle des changements dans son comportement. Il a lâché beaucoup de ses réservations. Bien sûr, il parle toujours d'une voix basse, mais il sourit plus. Il rit avec du coeur. Ses commentaires sont plus osés et parfois un peu plus sarcastiques qu'avant. Il partage son avis plus facilement. Il semble être heureux. Cet été a marqué le début de ce "nouvel" homme. Qu'est-ce qu'il m'a fait rire--et toujours il me fait rire. Je suis heureuse de le voir heureux. Il n'y a rien de plus satisfaisant de voir une personne aimée heureuse. Je prends ses commentaires, ses blagues, ses démonstrations d'émotion comme des signes de confiance en moi. Il se sent bien avec moi, et il n'a pas peur de se révéler à moi.

Quant à moi, je me sens plus ouverte vers lui. Je me freine moins. Je suis capable de communiquer mes pensées.

Nous constituons un couple qui s'améliore avec le temps. Nous ne nous ennuyons pas. Nous faisons l'effort constamment pour partager. La découverte, on comprend bien, est plus frappante au fil du temps. Nous pouvons savourer la vie ensemble encore plus que pendant la première année ensemble. Le bonheur de cette relation provient de la volonté d'aimer et de la compassion, et non pas des brouillards d'émotions qui risquent de disparaître à chaque instant.

J'ai envie de le remercier tous les jours pour ce qu'il m'offre, Gabriel. J'anticipe tout ce qui reste à découvrir avec lui!!





....et cependant, à cause du bonheur que cet amour m'apporte, je suis triste de le voir partir.

Gold

Tout semble lent aujourd'hui. Mes mouvements, mes pensées--corps et esprit. J'ai composé une chanson au piano, belle, mais je me demande si je suis la personne responsable. Elle semble naître de sa propre volonté, rapidement. J'ai eu à peine le temps de trouver la gamme pour elle. Elle n'a même pas de nom. Pourtant, elle existe, comme une bonne amie. On se connaît bien, mais je dois la développer davantage.

J'ai essayé de danser également, sans succès. J'ai fini dans une salle froide, à faire les poids. Mes bras en avait besoin.

Je suis si heureuse de retrouver le piano. Il me permet de documenter les événements, mais surtout les émotions, de ma vie. Dans beaucoup de sens, il est parallèle à ces centaines de pages que j'ai écrites, et à ce site web que j'ai décoré à ma guise. Pourtant, le piano est celui que je puisse partager sans que les gens demandent une explication. Je t'avoue, mon ami, que vendredi a fait resurgir tant d'émotions, des émotions que j'ai ressenti mais pas pu exprimer, même après une longue conversation à minuit. Parfois, le piano est le seul moyen pour moi de communiquer sans sentir des larmes glisser sur mes joues.

Is this what it means to be whole
when pieces of me fly out the window?
A sliver of truth shines bright for a day,
then all that was gold turns to grey.

2-2 est un bon ami!

rrrrrreeeeooooooooorrrrrrrrrr

mmmmmmeeeeeeeeooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. meow. meow.

T-1

Nap time. Bought cheese (a necessity, of course). Someone, please hire me because I want to know I can pay off my student loans.

One day more-- another day, another destiny.

T-2

So sleepy.

Venez nombreux....Un tel merveil le monde n'a jamais connu!

Mon cher Gabriel,

Je t'écris pour annoncer un nouveau projet, un projet qui sera adoré par tout ce qui le rencontre. C'est le projet où Véro va commencer vraiment à aimer--non pas seulement les autres. Elle va apprendre à s'aimer aussi, car pour quelque raison, elle a commencé à douter de ses qualités. Il n'y a même pas d'explication précise. Les études, être éloignée des gens qu'elle aimait, se retrouver au milieu des gens qu'elle n'aimait pas particulièrement, ne plus avoir le temps pour ses loisirs... Quelque soit la raison, cette année va se passer mieux. Elle habite dans une nouvelle ville, avec quelqu'un qu'elle aime, près de son école, avec plus de temps (et pas de piano, mais c'est peut-être une autre histoire...), à deux pas de la bibliothèque.

Elle va se rebâtir, car en se sentant forte et sûre d'elle, elle pourra aimer les autres de la bonne façon. Pas en les diminuant, mais en les encourageant. Exactement comme elle avait rêvé auparavent, comme elle connaissait le véritable amour. Amour pour soi et amour pour autrui.

Le chemin sera long, car il y aurait des égarements, des obstacles, et un long voyage, mais elle est résolue à se retrouver car elle ne souhaite que le bonheur.

P.S. C'est son anniversaire lunaire aujourd'hui! La même date que le festival d'automne au Vietnam...c'est un signe de chance. Un enfant de la lune...

Time to clean up

All right, I really want to succeed now. I don't want to be intimidated by anyone anymore. I'm the one in charge, no one else. I'm not crazy, or even if I am, soit. I'm the one who's here now, no one else. I've spent so long thinking I'm inferior to x, y, or z, and it's not even true. I don't know why I've even started caring about that; I've never cared until a year ago.

I'm not going to let anyone else be the measure of my value anymore, the measure of anything. I make my own path. I am someone no one else will never be.

Me. I'm taking me back. This is my day, every day.

What are my qualities? I do have a lot to be proud of:

1. I can sing pretty well, can memorize lyrics quickly, and compose music on the piano.
2. I can play the piano, probably better if I had one to play.
3. I have a pretty good imagination, which is a blessing and a curse.
4. I write well, in French and English. I think my French grammar is better than that of most French people. I've worked at it.
5. My stepdancing. It's what makes me want to wake up in the morning, and learn new music.
6. I appreciate good food.
7. I am honest, and faithful, and true to my word (which probably is why I only give it on certain occasions).
8. Discipline discipline discipline.
9. I can knit.
10. Old French literature that no one reads anymore--I read it (in between homework...*sigh* not too much time for that now).
11. I am a thorough planner. Detail oriented.
12. I can go to an art museum and feel among old friends among the great masters, same with the opera.
13. I can make rice.
14. I learned about the Civil Law tradition on my own, on the job!
15. I can walk for miles on end.
16. I can make curry.
17. I am left-handed.
18. Photography.
19. I am willing to learn new things, and discover new places.
20. I write with a fountain pen.
21. Everything I try, I make sure to do it well.
22. And then someone says I have anime eyes, which has to be a good thing.

I am a person of value.

This time is the last time, so be here now

We had a nice conversation. He looked so sleepy. I felt so sleepy. I'd only slept like 5 hours last night, maybe him too. Maybe less. In any case, I told him again what was going through my mind. The JC-L episode had really gotten to me because 1) the people were close to Y, 2)the reasons for their separation had been subject of some discussion between us, and 3) I hate seeing couples separate. I've been talking to JC, just because I want to make sure he can figure out what happened, and so he can learn from it. That's important, and I just want him to feel better.

We talked, but both of us were really tired. He laughed when I said I'd been talking to JC. Yann told me this story about when he separated from his ex, JC had been jealous that Yann had been with her. At first I was thinking, "What does this have to do with anything?" Then I think I got it, just now. That JC may have a thing for Yann's girlfriends. It's possible, after all, I guess she was kind of hot, and I'm kind of hot, and foreign. Guys like exotic girls, Asian ones, with big eyes and cherry lips. In any case, there's noooo cause for concern there. As much as I might like talking to him, I don't think that would ever happen. In any case, it might boost Yann's confidence if he is the one to possess the sought-after prize.

I was so glad to see him smile and hear him laugh. He has a sort of moon face when he does. It's adorable.

4 days....I can't believe time is going by so slowly. I'm trying to think of all of the ways I could greet him--just run at him and knock him over with kisses, hide and then jump on him, don't do anything and see who cracks first, just one kiss, take the otter along, hide and not let him see me at all (that one just sucks).....oh the possibilities.

Happiness

This is happiness. pure, free, light.

Oh

So this must be what it feels like to lose all you love. I'm an idiot. I was wrong, and now I fear he cannot forgive me. It takes a moment like this sometimes to realize how much you love someone. I love him so much more than I let him know, even when I already tell him 50 times a day.

He's changed his website. His southpark images are all gone. His spectacle section is gone. His LAN section is gone. I didn't want this. I didn't realize the consequences of what I was saying. I would rather see his caricatured friends smiling at me deviantly than nothing. This is not what I wanted. I just wanted him.

I was a fool. I am a fool. I even had a hint of it when I was talking to him last night. I wish I could take back everything, but of course, I can't. I was so wrong! Why did I do that? Pourquoi viens-je de blesser la personne que j'aime la plus? Pourquoi je n'ai pas pu me taire et laisser aller? J'espère que nous pourrons devenir plus forts après ce test. J'ai confiance.

My roses are still going strong...some of them are starting to wilt a little.

Embers and Envelopes

I called him. It was nearly 1am there, but I had to say it because I was feeling like I was going to hurt something. I felt like I could have hurt myself. I wanted to break everything in my room, because I didn't know.
So I called his house at like 1am their time. I felt so guilty doing it. I didn't want to call, I didn't want to.

So now I fear he is angry with me. I don't want to ask such a thing. That's just not something you ask of people. I felt guilty asking then, and I feel guilty now. I don't know how else to do it, though. I could find no way to reconcile this in my head. It's been here for over a year. I've felt this growing since maybe the beginning of 2006. That would make it almost 2 years now. I've been trying to find a response alone. I thought it was something I could figure out by myself, but I was so wrong. I can't. I have already talked to him about this. He is waiting to come to the US before he has to do it. He has already given us so much.

I know he is the sum of everything that has ever happened to him, all the people he has ever met. So am I. We are both compromising so much to be with each other. We both wanted to. I don't know if we still want to. I know that I want to love him. Maybe I don't really want him to leave his friends. I don't like to hurt people for fun. I am not like that. I want to be happy, just as much as he does. I love being with him. I love him so much. That's why I knew in my heart I couldn't ask that of him, and get away with it.

I know that if he does what I ask, I will only have a shell of Yann, not a complete one.

So why did I have to ask him? I don't know, I felt at the end of my strength. Maybe I have just made a huge mistake. This is so difficult. I know he can't do what I ask and be happy. What will become of us? I love him so much. At this point, I want him to be happy. I needed to say that because I needed to realize who he is. Yann is special. Really. I will never meet a more wonderful man. He is kind, and gentle, and he has a beautiful rich voice and a lovely sonorous laugh, and when he loves you, it's with all of his heart. I could not have asked for better.

He doesn't have to listen to me this time. I just want him to be happy. So, Yann, laugh with your friends, share music, films, ideas, and books with them. This is your life. I want you to lead a complete life.

If you need a véro sometimes, I will be there for you.

PS : I got three more postcards from him. One of them had clovers on it, and talked about how lucky we were to find each other, we were made for each other. I still believe this is true. After all, why else would my whole life have happened the way it did? And his? I feel we can survive it because our love is strong. It is so strong.

PPS : And our roses are a brilliant crimson. They are so beautiful. We do love each other so much, and for that we are doubly blessed.

Gabriel, please tell him I love him.

T-5

Phew

I feel better now. I think I was just worried over nothing. Well, not nothing, but something that I cannot get much assurance of while I am far.

It was a lazy sort of day. I didn't feel like doing much except writing, like with a pen and paper. The feel of the ink flowing from the pen to the paper is extremely sensual. Not all paper is the same, not all pens are the same.

That, and I tried to play my dinky keyboard again. Yeah, it really does suck, but I can't expect much for the $5 I paid for it.

My roses seem to grow more red every day. They're luscious!

T-6 and counting.

Raison, cachée derrière un voile de fumée

Was she right to go like that? An ultimatum, failure to respond, then--out the door?

Oh no. It just brings back a whole new flood of conflict in me because I feel I have been in that situation during this whole time. 2 years. I see he has changed so much, but I don't know if it is enough because I am engaged to his microcosm, not just him. I still don't want to go out with his posse. I don't even want to see some of them at this point. Is this how it should be? Do I deserve more? Don't I deserve to spend time as I want? Maybe she was right....maybe I lack courage to act. I have my convictions, and yet, I feel I have compromised so many of them. For love, supposedly.

He has stopped smoking, and he has become more proactive. And yet, I just shudder at the thought of his nights/weekends/whatever of who knows what. Even if he doesn't participate, half the people around him are. He is still complicit. He still shares that moment of....false pleasure. Or is it real to him/them? Whatever it is, I don't want anything to do with that. I've already refused to do certain things. I've voiced my displeasure so many times now.

Where does that put me? I can't say I disapprove, and yet remain at his side. That's lame. I need to do one or the other, and I definitely don't approve of it. What does that mean? Follow her? Am I skirting the issue? Dear God....

Damn. And then, what's worse is that we're so far apart that we can't talk things over so easily.

Happy Birthday SMS!

It was an SMS birthday. I love my girls. They make me the happiest on earth. We talked about nicknames, and how having a nickname is a sign of acceptance into our family. That's a good thing that Yannica has a nickname by now. Without it, it would make people feel a little uncomfortable. Still need to find one for the little bro. However, by far, my favorites are Uncle Rico's name, and Huli Potter. I can't wait to see them at Christmas.

The cake was a small--well not so small--Grand Marnier laced affair, with three luscious ladies lounging on their Greek-style bed. It was our temple to ourselves, as it should be. Happiness is best in its simplest forms.

Now it's late, and there's only one thing to do--bed time!

Say NO to Salon ANU in Ballston, VA!!

Do not go here!!!!!!!!! It is the most unprofessional salon I have ever been to!! I got my hair sheared off, and they charged a fucking $65 for it!? "Thank you, may I have another?" Hell no!!

And the woman cutting my hair, who lacked all esthetic sense and understanding of symmetry, had the nerve to say, "If you like my hair cut, you can come back again." AND "Well, it's my first time cutting your hair. I'm still learning. Next time we'll do it better." Like HELL!!! She says she's been cutting hair for 9 years!!! Doing what??? Shearing sheep? For $65 a pop?

No no no. I should have known something was wrong when that "receptionist" didn't acknowledge me as I walked in the door, and kept chatting with her friend in her tan velour jumpsuit!

Oh the agony. I should have a ceremony for my beautiful hair massacred on this day.

Glory

Glory Hom, a Wellesley sister.

"I'm from the government, and I'm here to help."

Should they have tasered this kid?

Here's the video that's been passing around, a shorter version.

Maybe he was being confrontational, but nothing indicates that he would ever be violent, and he wasn't. Only when he was being physically aggressed. He wasn't even violent, he was naturally pulling away from an unwanted touching. People say he shouldn't have resisted, but when a gang in black are descending on you, would YOU want their hands on you? Would you feel like listening to them?

And a taser? Why did they find that necessary? Violence shall be met with violence, and this kid was not violent. The police are supposed to use reasonable force when confronted with a person. They should set the example. This isn't some street crime in a back alley. This is a school. Yay for the state monopoly on violence.

Time

All right, I admit it. I miss him. A lot. He's coming in 10 days, and yet, time seems to have stopped. The 29th doesn't seem to be getting any closer, but I know it is. One day at a time.

No cards today. He's been trying to send me one a day for the past week, but they've been coming in bunches of 2s and 3s instead. It adds color to my mailbox, and eventually to my room and its bare walls.

My birthday is coming up! I am going to treat myself with a much-needed haircut. That's all. And it's dance day.

Dinner: linguine with caramelized yellow peppers, topped with pecorino cheese, prosciutto, and fresh basil.

Dance!

I need to compete again. And I need to join a dance show. I think that would make my life complete.

Wheelharp

A hurdy gurdy on crack: The Wheelharp.

When a hurdy gurdy owner realizes what it would be like to have many strings playing instead of a handful.

Children

My dear Gabriel,

I wonder if I am a bad woman because I don't want children. I don't want them. I don't want to introduce them into a world of casual sex, materialism, or terrorist governments. I don't want them to have to face parasitic relationships, rampant drug use, taxes, pollution, or Britney Spears. I would feel too much pressure to shield them from all of the madness of modern times.

But they could be a force for change--perhaps. But most likely not. I don't want that. No children.

A Wind in the Door

Madeleine L'Engle passed away at 88. She was by far one of my favorite authors when I was growing up. I loved her intelligent, clear writing, her heroic themes, her sincere characters. I was just thinking that I want to buy all of her books for my collection. I wanted to be Meg, and I wanted to be Charles Wallace, and I wanted to communicate with dolphins and beings from other universes...she gave me so many dreams.

The Daisy

The Daisy is well. In pain, yes, but recovering. I love her.

Le chemin est long

J'espérais commencer à bâtir notre propre univers à deux, un nouveau terrain. Cela a avancé un peu plus difficilement que prévu. J'ai dû mal interpréter les questions et ses réponses. Grâce à cette belle conte de fée que l'on est en train d'écrire ensemble, j'ai l'impression d'être un ballon, un petit ballon rouge flottant dans un ciel bleu. Pourtant les obstacles sont nombreux, créés par les pressions intérieure ou atmosphérique.

Cet amour me rend de plus en plus fragile à propos de certaines choses. Il permet de vivre toute la gamme des émotions, le bien et le mal. En un mot il peut me faire atteindre le bonheur cosmique, ou bien me faire plonger dans la masse lourde de la déception. Ces larmes qui apparaissent ne sont pas que le produit de la tristesse. Elles proviennent de toutes les émotions--la joie, l'amour, la tristesse, la peur, l'anticipation--à la fois.

Je cherchais un amour spirituel, pas machinal. Humain dans la pratique, mais surhumain dans ses espoirs. Voilà. L'espoir. Les idéaux. Je sais que le monde est imparfait, je sais que des malheurs arrivent sans frapper avant d'entrer. Je sais, je ne suis pas aveugle, même sans qu'il me les montre. Je ne veux pas un cynique. Notre amour devrait être une source de merveil. N'est-il pas vrai qu'un moment entre amoureux peut transcendre la terre? J'ai cru voir cela dans ses yeux. Chaque regard, chaque touche m'ont ramenée à notre monde à deux, même lorsque nous étions dans les rues pleines de Paris.

Je pensais que la raison pour laquelle nous tentons ce nouveau chemin est pour découvrir un autre niveau dans l'amour. Ses réponses m'ont blessée car pour pouvoir entreprendre ce chemin, il faut un esprit ouvert à la méditation, à l'amour et à la spiritualité dans tous les aspects d'une relation. Ses réponses semblaient ambiguës, pas enthousiastes. Cependant lier esprit et corps, les deux éléments d'une personne, est ce que je cherche depuis toujours.

Je cherche une raison pour laquelle nous nous sommes rencontrés. Je cherche une raison pour vouloir continuer. Je ne suis pas satisfaite par les rituels quotidiens sans refléxion et sans vision. Après tout, nous ne nous sommes pas rencontrés pas par erreur. Non...? Il dirait que oui. Pourtant, je fais tant d'efforts de trouver un sens dans cette série d'événements. Il faut--cela fait partie de ma quête pour la raison pour le décès de mon père. Je ne l'aurais pas rencontré sans cet événement. Je n'aurais pas pu l'aimer sans cet événement. Je pensais qu'il regardait notre rencontre et notre amour comme quelque chose plus que la coïncidence. Pour croire à cela, il faut posséder un élément spirituel. Sans la spiritualité, la vie devient une série d'événements sans signification, sèche comme les bancs d'une ancienne rivière. Il n'a jamais été spirituel. Il n'a jamais cherché de telles raisons pour sa vie.

Je suis perdue à nouveau. Je veux aimer mais je me sens bête et naïve.

On the road again...

I am so happy that he wasn't hurt seriously. There's nothing like a car accident to remind you that flesh is weak and bones are fragile compared to two-ton masses of steel and motor. He was lucky. The cars involved weren't, unfortunately. However, my little red Seat is all right.

Phew, he scared me for a second there....

Vacation

I know there's still a month before fall break, but I am already so anxious for my fall vacation. We've planned everything out already. It's a welcome flurrying diversion for the moment.

We are going to visit:
Fallingwater designed by Frank Lloyd Wright,
Kentuck Knob, and
Baltimore.

Friendship

I almost feel like a bad person. Almost. Yes because I know that these friendships have somehow flourished for a decade, despite the haze. No because I know what is necessary for my well-being. I don't want to make anyone choose, but that's it, isn't it? Choice. Life is made of choice, and we need to make the best ones based on the information available to us, and our expectations for the present and future. I could have just let things go, but I can't because I'm going to be miserable every time this comes up. So now, we can either choose together, or one of us can make a choice, but that's not why we are together.

I wish I could just stop thinking sometimes because this gets EXTREMELY FRUSTRATING.

One

Somehow, it came up in a conversation that I would only love one person in my life. Just one. Whether it ends in a break-up or death. I don't want to love any more than that. It requires so much of oneself, and I already have enough difficult with opening up now. Love, the ultimate gift, offered to more than one person? I see love as too fragile for that, at least for me. Once it is broken, it's gone. If it survives, then why reconstruct it?

Maybe that's why I have so much difficulty. He doesn't feel quite the same way about love as I do, and that's why I have a hard time accepting some things.

And then there are the times when I would rather be alone than with anyone at all. I don't think he possesses this need so much as I do. He's always the more resilient one.

Beltway

I am going to remember August 18, 2007 as "The day where I drove the entire Beltway." It was by accident, believe me. I was going to Ikea, of course, like everyone else on the Beltway. Except I took the wrong branch home.

I found myself in Notown parked at a 7-Eleven trying to figure out what to do next. I spied a sketchy older man staring at me. "Are you lost?" He asked. "No, no, I'm ok!" To him, I was definitely not lost.

However, I will say one good thing about the Beltway. You really can't get lost because it's a circle. So I made it back home about an hour later than planned, and I got to see the whole Beltway.

A cool Friday

My dear Gabriel,

Today was a calm day because I made it so. After constantly running between errands, school, relatives, and love, and after my extremely late night on Wednesday, I decided to sleep in today, and recover before I execute the final move-in this weekend.

He is not angry with me, which is a good thing. I only scolded him because I am worried for him, and for us. There are some risks worth taking, but I don't think this counts. He may believe otherwise, and he is free to, but decisions such as that could harm this couple. I have not been able to see him for days now, because Skype is down, and the alternative, WengoPhone, does not support video calls without a fight. I know the internet is not a true alternative to being with him. We waste so much time on the internet, while we could be doing something, but maybe it's not so much a waste of time. I love hearing his voice when I can't the warmth of his touch, or seeing a moving image of him, instead of the frozen ones here in my photo album. I miss him more every day. I wish I could show him my apartment, look for furniture with him, go grocery shopping. Little things.

He tells me he has the resources to visit every two months. Now, really, I am sure he could invest that money and prepare something for us when we will be together instead of coming to visit me. It is a long term v. short term vision. At the same time, I know I would love to be able to see him every two months.

It's not as though I don't have things to do, but when I am alone, I have the time to let my sentiments flood my thoughts, and the sense of separation can be overwhelming. I know, I know each person in a couple is supposed to be an independent unit, with her own life, her own friends, her own goals...but that doesn't change the fact that I have decided to share my life with someone else, and right now, there is no way for us to be together.

I spent an evening with JJ before she moves to New York. It was so good to see her, she was beautiful in her floating white and red linen dress. She grows more beautiful every day. I am going to miss her terribly, even though I know she is pursuing a noble objective!

In any case, there is much to be done--boxes to unload and another unscheduled visit to Ikea! Why do they not include their midbeams with their bed packages????

Falling in love

Ça fait une semaine maintenant, depuis la dernière fois que je l'ai vu assis sur la table devant le contrôle de sécurité à Charles de Gaulle. Une semaine depuis notre dernier baiser, notre dernier regard. Et pourtant, entre nous aujourd'hui, je l'ai senti, j'ai eu l'impression que nous sommes retombés amoureux l'un de l'autre. A nouveau. Pour moi, c'était un nouvel amour, et non pas le même amour qu'avant. Un sentiment qui reste figé va mourir. Il faut toujours avancer afin de survivre.

Quel bonheur.

New House

I am so glad to be in a new apartment. This is the first time I have an entire kitchen to myself. No more electric plates, no minuscule freezer, large amounts of counter space, oven--all at my disposition. I am excited at the prospect of finally being able to invite friends over for a quiet meal around a friendly table.

There is quite a bit of light in the family room, with three large windows. The view is less than spectacular, but it's the sunlight that matters.


The colors for the kitchen and family room will be blue, green, and white. With so much light entering the area, I want to keep the atmosphere as light as possible, and cool.

It's the start of something new, again. New kitchen utensils, new towels, new address....A new beginning. I am so glad to leave that place, where I was far from all I loved, everything that interested me, and was wading through that sea of gossip, jealousy, and who knows what other bad feeling. I feel fresh now. My apartment is all white, a new era.

La rentrée

I guess this is it for now. Mother has left for the west coast, and all that's left are my sister and me against the rest. She gave me creative control of the living room, I can decorate to my heart's content.

I don't want to be angry about anything, that's all I need to work on right now. Sometimes it is worth it, sometimes it isn't. Frustration and anger now, any time, is only destructive. I have only to look around me to see the ugly, bitter, irreparable effects. I refuse to follow that path, I refuse to permit them to drag me down it.

As for him, I am in awe of his ability to continue, he doesn't dwell. Back to the bachelor's life. So easy.

Red dress

It is extremely hot on the East Coast. I had nearly forgotten how much I loathe this humidity. Nearly. Luckily, my red dress is light, and will not weigh me down as I traipse through Georgetown today!

As for the transatlantic communication, it is a blessing and a curse as usual. I love being able to communicate, and am so thankful for the marvels of modern technology. But then again, it's not a way to share lives. He is living his own, and I am living my own. We are just telling stories again, instead of creating them now.

I even tried to find a photo album for our engagement photos, but the sizes are different in the US and France. It's a small thing, but it just seems like just another stone in the path.

I just need to find my morale again.

Transatlantic again

Yesterday we decided to drive to the airport early. Maybe that was the first bad idea. Or maybe it was just because it was raining. In any case, we ended up having to pay a 33 euro fee for parking we weren't aware of, and then needed to fetch our car because the area was being evacuated for an abandoned suitcase. In fact, we had arrived too early, so were unable to fetch my ticket. Then, when I finally passed the passport check at CDG, I needed to stand in line again, while they held up the line for some inexplicable reason. Finally, when I reached the counter, there was another evacuation for abandoned luggage. I am lucky my checked baggages arrived in Washington, and that I didn't have to pay a supplementary charge for my extra suitcase!

From then on, things went smoothly. I slept on the way to London (God knows I needed it, I don't even know why, though.) Even connecting at London Heathrow wasn't so bad. I just followed the signs, and I arrived just in time for my connecting flight home.

I think I am too busy at the moment to miss him too much constantly, but it comes in pangs. I get the same feeling when I fall in love with him all over again. Saying goodbye this time was as difficult as always. In fact, each time we would say goodbye this past summer, I felt it was a rehearsal for the long goodbye that was to accompany the end of summer. He would argue, doesn't that make the greeting all the more wonderful? Maybe so. Each meeting was then more emotionally charged than if it were a normal daily hello/see you at the end of the day routine. The whole cycle was rigorous. I know exactly when I will see him again, and I know that the "Hello" will be nothing less than wonderful, but saying goodbye still throws all of those perfect lines into chaos. Every time.

Magic

I appreciate my office mate. She, like me, is searching for the mystical, magic, wonderful part of life that is lacking in too many people. I think we met for a reason, although I am not sure what it is yet.

And as for him, I think we met for a reason as well. Why else would I be rejected from law school the first round? Why else would I follow DG's advice and apply for Rouen? Why else would I be placed in that small town in Normandy? Why else would I meet his father on my birthday? Why else would I arrive in Normandy early for my LSAT? Why why why? because it was written somewhere that this is our story. Of course. Not without some effort on our part, but I think there is a good reason for all of this.

13

It took a long time to get to the 13ème because I had to get my aunt. Far too long.

Cough cough cough

I don't know why I am coughing. Maybe it was because I am allergic to Normandy deep down inside, or because it has been unusually rainy this summer, and I don't dress well. In any case, I find myself cancelling a rendez-vous this evening, and hunkering down with some soup, boudin noir, and good bread for the evening. Pinky can keep me company.

Just what I needed

That is exactly what I needed, a tranquil week-end in Normandy with a good book (Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi). I didn't want to go out at all, I was content to by my baguette from the bakery 50 feet away, and I just wanted to stay in bed. It has been a long time since I've passed such a peaceful weekend. I appreciate it, even if I did wind up catching a cough due to the wet cold of Normandy.

We went to the Chantecler restaurant owned by the couple Pinel, in Bourth, to celebrate our engagement with his parents. It was as charming as always, with a new server to muddle things up a bit. I had a caviar d'aubergines, with yellow and red peppers crowning the ensemble. It was cool, refreshing, exactly what I needed. Next, the caille au vinaigre de cérises was savory to the last bite, especially since it rested on a small toast laden with foie gras! The feuilleté de roquefort and salad was a bit heavy for my taste, but I love roquefort, so I will not complain much. My dessert was the house specialty-soufflé froid au calvados. It was exquisite, a fluffy sweet cloud laced with Calvados. I felt satisfied but not overwhelmed by the meal. I know I will be entering into a good family here.

I spoke with his parents alone about our engagement, and their principal concerns are about working in the States v. Europe. He is in a precarious situation, with the potential for huge success, if he comes to the US, but if he stays here, he is set for life. No worries. I understand their concerns, of course, and I think I am much more flexible than him in the long run. It just depends on what one is looking for. If he is going to be here for the rest of his life, though, there may just have to be long periods where I am just not going to be there. I can't stay in one place like he can. I don't have those same close ties with people dating back 20 or 30 years. I've never been like that.

In any case, I am rested, coughing, and hungry again. I also HIGHLY recommend that you read Persepolis.

Cars

I don't know why Americans don't drive more manual cars. They are more fun, and they use less fuel.

I am learning how to drive a manual car! My dad would be so proud of me if he knew. I have the best learning course in the world, the Norman countryside. There are no cars, only small roads that lace through small villages. I drove a bit yesterday, my first time in over a year. Last year, I first drove around those famous beaches of Normandy, and I stalled about every 10 seconds. Yesterday, I didn't stall at all! It was quite a personal accomplishment. I am preparing myself for achieving my dream of driving my own Ferrari on the Autobahn. I'm working on all of those aspects of it--car, driving, Germany.

Yesterday was a good start. I felt more synched with the car, I could feel when I needed to shift gears, and at what speed I needed to be. Girls don't usually care for this sort of thing, but why not??? You are forced to feel turns to know when to accelerate, or shift gears.

Airs pour Farinelli

Yesterday, my friend and I attended a concert at L'Eglise St. Julien le Pauvre. The music was sung by contre-tenor Duy-Thông Nguyen, and he was accompanied on the piano by M. Olivier Dauriat. I have long loved baroque music, and have been fascinated by the castrato for quite some time. However, this was my first time listening to music composed for castrato performed live by a contre-tenor.

The venue, the Eglise St. Julien, is the oldest church in Paris. The acoustics are echo-y, and are not the best I have heard, but that does not diminish the magic listening to a well-sung aria reverberate throughout the building. Prayer candles lent their soft glow to medieval icons hung on the walls. A large grill threw its flickering shadow on the stone walls. It felt like a sacred place, more than, for example, the much more famous Cathédrale de Notre Dame just across the river. This church was tucked away in a small pedestrian street, and demanded to be searched rather than seen.

The singer began in the back of the church, and slowly made his way to the front as he sang his first aria. Unfortunately, I recognized none of the songs and cannot give you their names! However, he sang Baroque pieces during the first half. His voice was not sufficiently warmed up to tackle the difficult runs and trills of the Baroque with 100% ease, but I could still feel my hairs standing on end listening to his voice. It was as I had imagined, the masculine power and endurance imbued into a delicate high tone. I was enraptured during the entire concert.

The second half of the concert was dedicated to the romantic era. I sensed that the singer prefered this type of music, and was better warmed-up, as his voice gained clarity and embraced the music easily. During one well-known piece, the Ave Maria by J.S. Bach, he drifted into the sides of the church so that all that remained to the audieance was his light voice filling the interior. It was truly wonderful. He was singing so well by the end that I did not want the concert to finish.

I went home on the metro that night with the voice of angels in my head.

Déchirée

Je me sens complètement déchirée entre tous les amours de ma vie--ma famille en Californie, et mes propres intérêts pour la France et l'Europe. Je ne sais pas lequel choisir. Si je choisis un, cela ne diminue pas mon amour pour l'autre, mais ils sont tellement éloignés que je ne peux pas les avoir simultanément. Je n'aime même pas la Californie, il n'est que l'endroit où se trouve ma famille. Pourtant, maintenant c'est le momen pour moi de choisir un travail, et je dois être à un endroit ou à l'autre. On ne peut pas être en Californie pour dîner à un restaurant vietnamien et à Paris pour se promener avec l'amour de sa vie dans la même journée.



Quelle voie dois-je choisir? Je dois postuler à des postes à partir de la semaine prochaine, et l'emplacement est un élément clef dans toutes mes décisions maintenant. Je veux passer du temps avec ma famille car on n'a pas eu l'occasion de partager notre vie depuis 6 ans maintenant, mais ma carrière commence, et je sais que je veux travailler à Paris au long terme.



Est-ce que je sacrifie un an ou deux pour être avec ma famille, surtout mon frère adolescent dont cette période je ne veux pas rater, mes grands-parents qui ne cessent pas de vieillir, et ma mère qui vient de découvrir son indépendance? Ou bien, dois-je suivre mes rêves tout de suite, sans penser aux autres, suivre mes désirs. J'ai l'impression d'avoir fait cela depuis longtemps maintenant. Je dois beaucoup à ma famille, bien sûr, et je veux garder notre relation proche, mais cela devient difficile lorsque je suis en France, à 9 heures de décalage.

Enfin, je parle de l'été prochain, pas un an complet. Je pourrais passer un été en Californie et ensuite passer à Paris sans me culpabiliser. Cela pourrait être difficile pour lui, pour nous, car nous avons des projets de couple à réaliser un jour. En même temps, ils me sont précieux en Californie.

Un été, cela ne me paraît pas trop long, pour la Californie. Et je suis toujours jeune.

La Table Corse

Despite my protestations, we wound up dining at a small restaurant called La Table Corse, located in a small street in the 5ème arrondissement of Paris. We had reserved a table for 19H45, but we were the first diners there.

The interior is very charming, and very warm. The walls are beige, ochre, and orange stone, and paintings of Corsica line the walls. The tables are covered in creamy tablecloths, and the menu is in fact a small blackboard carried to the table by the server.

We spent a good five minutes debating what to order because, quite frankly, we wanted all of it. Foie gras with pain aux figues for an entrée? Or millefeuille d'aubergine? Or better yet, some renowned Corse charcuterie? I settled on a velouté de châtaignes avec amandes effilées et chanterelles, while he chose the foie gras. The portions arrived, and his slice of foie gras could have been a meal in itself. My velouté had just enough flavor to bring out the châtaignes, and was topped with a dollop of cream. I was starving, and was ready for the next dish!

The main dishes were even more difficult to choose than the entrées. The specialty of the house was sanglier braisé, so he decided to take that. I didn't want the same dish, but I was torn between the foie de veau and the carré d'agneau. Eventually, the absence of meat in my diet led me to the carré d'agneau. It seemed more appetizing on paper, I have no idea if this is true. However, my carré d'agneau was excellent, and was accompanied by châtaignes, chanterelle mushrooms, a delicate purée de pomme de terre and haricots verts au citron. If I could, I would have finished it all, but I certainly tried. Personally, I preferred my agneau to his sanglier.

By the end, we were both extremely satiated, and decided to skip out on dessert at the restaurant before taking a walk to l'Île de la Cité and stopping for some Berthillon ice cream (a.k.a. the best ice cream in the world). I was in a rich mood, so I took mocha and black chocolate, while he chose raspberry and pear sorbet. I think he may have made the better choice, but only to economize on stomach space. I don't know how Berthillon manages to capture flavor so well, but I could have been drinking a cup of coffee, the flavor of the ice cream was impeccable. If you ever have the chance to have Berthillon ice cream, do not miss the fraise des bois sorbet. There is nothing like it. Berthillon has managed to put fraises des bois in frozen form, with the occasional morsel of a fraise des bois. Perfection.

We strolled home from there, and went quickly to bed, as the food coma was settling in. I am glad to have been able to enjoy such a fine meal! I rarely go to restaurants nowadays, but when it happens, and the restaurant is as excellent as last night's, the meal stays in my memory long after the last bite!

Or...

I like this one too, it is smaller, and more stable, it seems. It is also prettier than the Chinook, in my opinion : The Minstrel.

The waiting time for this one is much longer, probably at least one year as opposed to a couple of months, but it may be worth it. In the end, they are both pretty similar, but I am looking for one I could more easily take on a plane. Oh but I do like the luteback....decisions decisions decisions that I am not even going to make yet. I don't know.

The vielle à roue is such a firmly French instrument. I guess it is only natural that I would fall in love with it. I think i will give it a name when I get it. I was thinking Solange is nice, but then again, I have about two years before I will get one. My mind will probably change.

My next instrument

This is going to be my next instrument. I want a vielle à roue, I need it, it is calling to me day and night with its buzzing sound.

The model I am envisaging for the moment. It's basic, but reliable, and dear God do I want to play it : The Chinook.

Gennetines

Mud. And Music. Those were the themes of this last weekend. We left Paris at 5PM to arrive at the small village of Gennetines (pop. about 600) at 10PM. Then we needed to find a place to park amongst the winding country roads and cattle fields. Done, but it was about 2km away. Next came the tent. It was dark, and it had been raining, so he needed to find a flat, relatively dry spot. I don't know how he did it in the dark, but he set up the tent pretty quickly. It was a beautifully clear night, and I could hear the strains of European Folk music from 5 different groups melding as thousands of dancers twirled the night away from some distant field.

I saw two shooting stars that night, so I made two wishes, one for his happiness and one for mine.

After the folly of establishing our home for the weekend, the dancing could begin! I jumped right in, and dancing until 3am. This was the evening of the bourrée. I danced 2 memorable ones, and even a good polka. I never dance a good polka; I underestimate it too much. There were no good scottishes, though, except after the Sunday workshop. I learned a boatload of variations. If we end up dancing a scottish as our wedding dance, it is going to be amazing.

There were musicians everywhere, dancers everywhere. I am firmly resolved to begin playing the vielle à roue (hurdy gurdy) once I have the funds to buy one! They are extremely rare in the US, less so in France, but still difficult to find. And expensive. But man are they beautiful. Same goes for the accordion, but since I prefer the vielle, I will try for that one first.

We learned the dance I have been waiting 3 years to learn--the polska. It's a Swedish dance, quite slow and dignified, and always graceful if you do it correctly! It's rare to see it at balls, but it is quite breathtaking to see two dancers glide then begin to turn effortlessly on the dance floor. He made a good effort, it's a dance we will have to work on a bit more before perfecting it.

Mud. It was a veritable mud bath. The first evening, I stepped in puddles everywhere because it was dark and the puddles were black as everything else around. It was useless to take a shower because once I stepped out of the cold/lukewarm water, my sandaled feet needed to pick their way over muddy terrain to return to my tent or the festival. I just stopped caring. It felt good to have some earth between my toes anyway.

Food? Of course we ate!! Those were the best sandwiches ever! And even better, he had brought some corn on the cob to grill. Ah happiness.

Of course, with a total of 10 hours of driving and I don't know how many hours of dancing that weekend, we were both exhausted when we arrived home, no to mention dirty. That was one of the best showers of my life! And my large bowl of pasta covered in cheese was perfect. All of this was done with the drone of the vielle and the punctuated tones of the accordion choreographing my movements. I bought two CDs, "Repliques" by the excellent group DJAL and a CD from the group Frères de Sac because they had a polska. I actually prefer the one from Frères de Sac because their music is more traditional. DJAL plays a lot with different tonalities and phrases, but I think they've lost some melody compared to their other two CDs. Oh well. They are both wonderful additions to my collection.

I find that I prefer the music at the festivals more than the dancing. I am just itching to get my hands on a vielle, just wait. One day!!

In the meantime, I do need to get all this dirt from between my toes.

Ouvre-lui

That must have been what my heart was telling me from the moment I met him. It must, because that is exactly what I did, and I have never looked back. And now, one tumultuous and happy weekend later, we are engaged to be married. I don't know when exactly, but in time.

Because we are currently living 6,000 miles apart, we consider this engagement as a promise as well as a wish, a wish to share our daily lives. When it happens. I am not worried because we each have things to finish beforehand.

Saturday was simultaneousy exhausting and energizing. I sprang out of bed at 7am to dance in the park as usual, and came thundering back to blare music and serenade him in the light of the rising sun. Of course, he was a little miffed at not being able to sleep in, but he really didn't mind.

We set out in the morning to recoup the ring. In the meantime, we could see the July 14th parade along the Champs-Elysées. Or rather, we could see the military airplanes soar overhead. It was impressive to watch the lines of planes in formation, and the streaks of blue, white and red painted across the sky.

I wore my red dress to mark the day.

The evening began early; we dressed in our finest to be able to traipse around the gardens of Versailles at dusk. Dinner at le Valmont was spectacular. The decor was quaint and influenced by Louis 15 style furniture. The walls were painted a jovial yellow and the chairs were covered in blue and yellow damask. Service was prompt, but the waiter was clearly stressed.

I ordered a flan de foie gras accompanied by a salad with truffle oil for an entrée. My main dish was pavé de veau avec petits pois et crème truffée. He ordered lieu (pollock) couvert de graines de sésame avec une sauce orange, accompagné par céléri. I don't like celery, so that worked out well.

And finally, dessert. It was lovely. I ordered a symphonie de 5 desserts: glace pain d'épices, crème brûlée, soupe aux griottes, crème d'ananas et carré de chocolat noir. Delicious. I could not finish.

He ordered a parfait de chocolat avec crème chantilly.

We finished just in time for Versailles. The sun was setting as we arrived, and since Versailles is constructed in alignment with the sun (the sun rises directly in front of the palace, and sets directly behind it), the entire gardens were illuminated by the soft orange glow of the setting sun. The fountains closest to the palace were on. The palace was lovely as usual.

The evening consisted of a promenade throughout the gardens, each of which was illuminated and animated by either voices reciting Molière's plays, baroque music, electronic music, video, or some sort of combination of it all. The promenade began in the Salle de Bals, which began pouring water when we entered the grove. It was magnificant to see the water spilling over the stony terrasses, between enormous golden luminaries to the soft tone sof baroque guitar. It has been a dream of mine to see the Salle de Bals, and there I was, there when it was just beginning, at dusk.

We had about two hours to roam the gardens. Other tourists in the gardens looked at us and whispered amongst themselves that it was a wedding. I certainly felt splendid, in my long, sequined ao dai that stretched to the floor in one long sweep of satin. He looked brilliant in his dark brown striped suit, lightly striped white shirt and rich gold cufflinks that had previously belonged to his grandfather. They hadn't been worn in fifty years, but after a washing, turned out magnifique.

It was such a sensory experience: the sound of water rushing amongst the baroque statues. Running through the gardens to find the next great treasure, following the sounds of animation.

The evening finished on the Grande Perspective, under a spectacular fireworks display--spectacular for its sophistication, not for its size. These were well-conceived, choreographed fireworks. It was subtle.

Of course, I wasn't watching the fireworks the entire time because he took the ring from his pocket just then to offer it to me. So that was that. We were "officially" engaged on July 14, 2007 in the gardens of Versailles.

It is only the outward manifestation of what we have both felt for a long time.

Oh beauty.

Friday the 13th

One day more,
another day another destiny....

At last, the sun is shining in Paris. At last, he has reserved a restaurant for the day of our engagement. www.levalmont.com. It is a classic French restaurant, I have chosen my menu already! The one we were hoping for was long booked in advance. No worries, we'll look beautiful no matter what.

I am just a bit sad there is no one to photograph us all dressed up and glowing. That will have to wait for some party. But we will try to take pictures in the Parc Monceau, with my ao dai, before we leave for the Grandes Eaux Nocturnes at Versailles. I do wish my family could be here for the occasion.

Still miffed about the lack of photographer, but I am glad that he is coming tonight. And we are going to chat with my mother.

Tomorrow...we need to fetch the ring, visit with his sister, and I desperately need to dance early in the morning before all of this.

Happy

I am happy, happier than I have been in so long. Maybe happier than I have ever been. And him too. Ah, joy.

2 rings

Yesterday, we found our rings. Engagement ringS. I figure, it is best to show the commitment now, and he isn't the type who wears jewelry anyway. There is no point for any other wedding ring for him.

I haven't told anyone really. Just some people who don't really care, and my best friend. I think I am waiting to actually receive the rings and exchange them first.

In any case, it was wonderful to have the future father-in-law come along. He is adorable, and he thought of a lame excuse to come to Paris just to be with us. It was special for him and my fiancé because they have never discussed relationships before. In fact, Father-in-law lost his ring years ago only to find it this week because he remembered that, one year after his marriage, he placed his wedding ring in his wallet. That was over 30 years ago. Strange how memories work. He even offered it to us for my fiancé. We will still order our own ring, but I have the feeling my fiancé will be wearing his father's wedding band.

Future sister-in-law joined us as well because she works literally next door. It was good to share the moment with his family, especially since my own is so far away.

I like sharing things. I am just a little bummed out that things had to be so rushed. I was on my lunch break from work, and had to cross all of Paris to meet them. And lunch was actually a sandwich that my heart had bought for me to take back to the office. My mind was in such a whirlwind, and I think I was nervous that my inlaws were nearly all there. It was kind of an intimate moment, because it was to find some physical incarnation of our commitment, but it wasn't because of the spectators. I don't mind, of course. I am just rarely placed in the center.

In any case, it was a special day. I am so glad to be able to share it with my inlaws, and I am so lucky to love all of this family! Not just my fiancé. There are so many aspects of this relationship that share their roots in old stories and history; it seems like a natural progression of events. The diamond belonged to my fiancé's grandmother, and was specifically designated for my fiancé's engagement. We would probably never have met if it weren't for our shared Vietnamese heritage, and it provides for a richer experience. Our wedding, when that day arrives, will be a traditional Vietnamese one, at my parents' home.

But of course, there is something about this city of Paris, the city of light. Anything that occurs here assumes a rosy glow. It is a city of stories and romance, of candlelight and spectacle. I cannot say when or how we will exchange these two rings, but any ceremony will be personal. Just two of us. He seemed so happy after the whirlwind at the jeweler's, and that made me happy.

Happy.

Stories

I consider the art of weaving stories is the greatest one can possess. It is magical to watch as a person develops a story, its setting, its characters, its events, all before a captive audience. Hearing a well-presented story could be better than watching television, better than reading sometimes. You can discover new interpretations of old stories or characters. The story can carry you away into any world you wish.

And then there are the stories that are woven, not as a happy diversion from life, but to fill in the gaps that compose our daily routines. What is your significant other doing at this time? Why haven't you heard from him or her in 3 days? Then it is perfectly natural to fabricate the response--of course, he is seeing X, Y, Z mistress. After not seeing him for a year, it is too easy to fall into one of those stories woven by doubt, even if you know they are not true. I am just trying to tell myself that they are not true, they are not true. Because they aren't. I know that, but reason doesn't win every time.

Clothes, market, clothes

Well, I am officially finished with the sales in Paris, even if Paris isn't yet through. I have found my share of beautiful clothing and beautiful underclothing, and have spent the weekend parading my newfound embellishment much to the pleasure of my amused significant other. Of course, it doesn't actually mean anything, but making myself up, wrapping myself in swaths of soft, delicious fabric has its pleasures. The game is always on.

Sunday, I decided to explore a clothes market, near Arts et Métiers. What a sorry sight awaited me. This ws the anti-sales area. Only 3 vendors surveyed their racks of grandmotherly coats, polyester pants, and leather jackets. This was their daily market, and it was dying. The interior space was vast, and lines for tennis courts traced the floor under their feet. There was emptiness, so contrary to the market culture that France has long valued. I know there are other clothing markets elsewhere, but this one touched me. It was like seeing an elderly relative breathe her last.

Nothing to do with the food market near Nation. Because it was the marché guadeloupien, the air was filled with the scent of exotic spices, bright colors, new flavors, and foreign tongues. There was life, movement, and purpose. Perhaps change is a good thing, even if it is sometimes difficult to accept. Out with the old, in with the new. People don't want to go to Arts et Métiers for their clothing anymore, why bother when the Galéries Lafayettes are just a stone's throw away? And why do your grocery shopping in a stuffy, cramped supermarket, when the outdoor market offers more freshness than you could ever find in a box?

Wrong and wrong

I consider myself a reasonable person most of the time. I can admit when I am wrong and change my actions accordingly. I like to choose my battles, instead of transform my life into a battlefield. But this person I must meet with today baffles me. He is a wealthy man, he is successful, and he has chosen to take issue with a $100 bill for a book. He believes he is not obligated to pay the $25 international shipping and handling charge, and wishes a discounted price for the book.

Perhaps I am being sheepish, not defending my rights enough. But he should pay the bill. I looked on this publisher's websiste, and yes, they were offering a discount for a book on mediation, but that is not what the man ordered! He ordered a book about alternative dispute resolution in general. Not the same thing.

Today, we received an e-mail from the publisher conceding a 20% reduction, but no reduction of shipping charges. Mr PEJ will not be happy, but then again, he never took the time to look at his order confirmation with the important figures listed within, nor does he have the time to pick this sort of ant fight.

This is small stuff, and when it sours people's afternoons, I see no point in arguing. It's a book, they sell, we buy. There bigger fish to fry in the Parisian sea.

Les soldissimes!

These are strange times. "What?" the interrogative spirit may ask. Why, the season of sales in France. Already, I fail to grasp the concept of government-sanctioned sales, but I find myself waiting in front of the Zara store on the Boulevard Haussmann in Paris nonetheless. I had called at 10pm two days before the beginning of the sales to verify that they were indeed opening early. Great, I could get my shopping done before work, and avoid the crowds as well!!

Well--that was what everyone else was thinking. I arrived at Zara at 7:30am, and I was not the first one there. By 8am, the crowds gathered around store entrances such as the Galeries Lafayette and H&M had swelled to nearly 50 at each one. Emotions ran high when the crowd at Zara saw the doors swing open around them, and Zara's remained closed. I felt a little antsy myself.... Finally, at 8:03am, one large metal door swung open, and 50 eager early shoppers squeezed through as the store employee desperately tried to both dodge them and open the second door. As for me, after one quiet push along the edge of the crowd, I was in.

I will admit, I had scoped out the store the weekend before sales to find the items I liked best, but during sales, stores empty their inventory, stuffing the front hangers with clothes. I knew what I wanted, so I quickly spied two skirts, and then darted upstairs to gather the shirts and dress I had chosen the weekend before. All right, I will admit it, I am crazy. But no more so than my fellow clawing, clothing-hungry camarades.

I was also short on time, with only one hour allotted to shopping before beginning work. So much the better, I could have stayed for hours. I ended up with exactly what I wanted, and some things left behind, either because they were not practical, or because i felt low on cash. No matter, it was a rewarding experience. I left Zara exactly one hour later, my small bag full, my list crossed out.

The sales are not over, so I may be back...you can catch me on the Boulevard Haussmann or Les Halles.

Unisex bathrooms

I finally have the chance to live one of those experiences many of us only dream about—unisex restrooms. My office has one. The head partner at my firm is a man, and I think he has a stigma against using the restroom when other people are around. I could understand that, since there are only two other men in the office, and about ten women. All of the awkwardness I imagined comes with sharing a bathroom with ALL of your colleagues was real. I never knew what to say, we would always smile and say hello, and then lock ourselves away for a bit of privacy. You never know who you may run into. My biggest fear certainly was that I would run into the head partner. He is a tall man, quite distinguished, and he knows he makes an imposing figure.

Well, during my second week on the job, it happened. He and the other head partner, a longtime friend, were in the restroom preparing to go out for lunch. I walked in, but by the time I realized who was there it was too late. “Hello PEJ!” I tried to muster cheerily. He smiled at me in that distinguished way, and tried to strike up a conversation! “Oh please no,” I was thinking. “Not here.”

“What do you think the chances are of having an Asian president one day?”

I started my answer succinctly, one sentence. Maybe two. Not any time soon. Not very many Asians gravitate toward a public life. But it was in the bathroom, and I wanted to leave.

So there it is, folks. Unisex bathrooms.