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.
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Paris. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Paris. Afficher tous les articles
vendredi 3 août 2007
jeudi 2 août 2007
mardi 31 juillet 2007
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.
lundi 30 juillet 2007
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.
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.
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.
mardi 24 juillet 2007
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.
The model I am envisaging for the moment. It's basic, but reliable, and dear God do I want to play it : The Chinook.
lundi 16 juillet 2007
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.
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.
vendredi 13 juillet 2007
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.
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.
mercredi 11 juillet 2007
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.
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.
jeudi 5 juillet 2007
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.
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.
lundi 2 juillet 2007
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?
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?
mercredi 27 juin 2007
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.
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.
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