Friday, November 4, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
It's ironic to find myself so out of sorts in my own country. All the little things I've forgotten about are coming back like suddenly remembering that I had to tip at the bar, and after overhearing a conversation last night, I remembered that sales tax exists. I got into my parents pick up truck on Friday and almost threw out my left leg looking for the clutch (it's automatic).
I'm also falling right back into old habits. I've rediscovered that primoridal Virginian part of my brain that can actually handle the summertime heat and humidity, even when exercising. I have a couple runs that I've done since I was sixteen-- a two mile, three mile, five mile, and six mile. I did the three mile run today and just ran without thinking. In France (when I run) I spend more time looking around and getting lost, but here I just went through everything going on in my life and suddenly found myself back on Waterway. It was so instinctual, I barely remember it. I came back to my house and turned on the TV to do sit ups and push ups, things that I will admit happens too far and in between in France.
It's nice. But I have the little voice in the back of my brain warning me not to become too comfortable. Because it's only a week til I have to refind my American in France.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
When I'm at Chez Gui Gui, we can sit in his room the whole day, watching American Dad and talking, and there's no awkwardness. It's nice.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
I won't apologize for this:
They set out on bikes, eager to get away from the family, to be alone, and to see the beauty of the countryside. It was hot, and she sweated in her cotton dress, her bangs sticking to her face. The village was flat, and she was pleased to move around. She had been in the car for several hours to get there, they had taken a roundabout way, following the backroads. Now she was on the bike and her muscled flexed and moved as she pedaled at an agreeable pace.
“Putain,” there really isn’t anything out here, is there?” he said in French, “It’s really hard to believe how close we are to Paris.” And it was true, they were only 60 kilometers out from the bustling city, but here, there was no one. They stopped to look at the grains, growing in straight lines as far as the eye could see.
“I bet you’re the second American to ever be in this village, after my aunt.”
“I doubt that, I’m sure there were some when they passed through during the war.”
He laughed, conceding “Okay, but the second one in the last fifty years. Except for my phone,” he continued, “It could be 1935 here, just before the war, couldn’t it?”
They stopped the bikes and dismounted, taking pictures of each other posing and laughing together. After a moment she kissed him, leaning against him and she could smell his sweat.
“Shhh, listen to the silence.” She breathed.
They stood there holding each other and listened to the barely sway back and forth, making a shushing noise as the stalks moved in the wind. There were birds in the distance, and every so often, the noise of a car travelled across the field. The sky was clear blue, of French blue as it’s called, and the clouds looked as they were painted in the sky. Across the fields she could see small bosquettes, dark green contrasting with the golden color of the wheat.
Her mind drifted. What would it have been like, just before the war? She could rest assured that the village had been there, but she wondered if fighting had happened close to where they were. Her grandfather had been here, when he was her same age. But he sure as hell hadn’t been having dinner with the French, and watching their children like she was.
Europe, she thought, must have been like the Middle East is to her. When her grandfather was 24 could he have possibly imagined the EU, and all the diplomacy between the nations? Did he think his granddaughter would be walking along the same beaches on which he had seen so much death? Or passing freely, country to country, completely alone?
She felt a flash of optimism for the world, and turning back to her Frenchman, she kissed him again.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
VH-Yeah today when we went to meet the Mayor...
Me-You met the mayor? Why?
VH-I meet loads of mayors.
VH-It takes the average person about 365 days to complete a year
Me-Oh yeah? How long does it take you?
L (Friend of VH)-No don't worry Robin, after the end of the world, you'll be in Heaven.
Me-Oh thanks, L, that's nice ot hear.
L-Well everyone goes to Heaven...er, except Bin Ladin.