Monday, June 2, 2014
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
#2
Tonight, Dimitri was running around the house in his pajamas when out of nowhere he fell on the floor. This happens all the time. I thought nothing of it. Until he immediately rose, and with a completely straight face beelined to the bathroom.
"popo liquide"
Then I wiped a butt that didn't belong to me, or an infant in diapers.
Check that off the bucket list.
"popo liquide"
Then I wiped a butt that didn't belong to me, or an infant in diapers.
Check that off the bucket list.
Monday, February 24, 2014
spreadingwingz
Today was tight. I was invited over to have lunch chez une amie. It was three of us and we ate a delicious Hungarian chicken meal. DELICIEUX.
Then all of a sudden after conversations about feminism, rape culture, humanity, love, the future, starting companies, starting fresh, STARTING A WORK OUT ROUTINE/support group so on and so forth I looked up to realize that 5 hours had passed.
There's nothing more valuable than connecting with people in new and inspired ways. I didn't think I'd ever be close with these girls and after a few casual meetings and courtesies we were spilling our guts.
It makes me feel less alone in the world knowing that just down the street there's someone who understands you and thinks your wonderful. Pay it forward.
Then all of a sudden after conversations about feminism, rape culture, humanity, love, the future, starting companies, starting fresh, STARTING A WORK OUT ROUTINE/support group so on and so forth I looked up to realize that 5 hours had passed.
There's nothing more valuable than connecting with people in new and inspired ways. I didn't think I'd ever be close with these girls and after a few casual meetings and courtesies we were spilling our guts.
It makes me feel less alone in the world knowing that just down the street there's someone who understands you and thinks your wonderful. Pay it forward.
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| finally bought a frame little things |
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Je suis libre
This weekend was the breath of fresh spring air I needed.
After the weirdest train ride back to Paris yesterday afternoon, where I sat in the "hallway" of the train instead of my paid seat cause I just didn't want to be near anyone, I met up with my dude Tangerine to play some basketball.
He bought a really nice Nike Elite ball that we are splitting 50/50. It's beautiful.
We found a small parc that's in the middle of us and started playing. I beat him. Twice. I'm so out of shape, but I was scoring, and balling, and dribbling like I never quit. It was freedom. It was respiration. It was amazing. The feel of the ball, the sound of the bounce, the sun setting on the asphalt, and the success of swishing a ball through a hoop with no net.
HOME.
After that, Tangerine and I parted ways to do our own thing. None of my usual crowd was in Paris so I ended up going to a party by myself. I was invited my one of my friends that I met here, she studies in Paris and invited me to a party being thrown by some of her Uni friends. It was awesome. I met some sweet people, and it's so liberating going to a party by yourself where you don't know anyone. You don't have to check on anyone throughout, you don't have to time your exit, you don't have to provide, or include, you just get to be. I've really missed just BEING in a situation.
I got the last metro home around 2am and even found a new way to get home without transfers. Line 3! Throw it up!
Sunday was lovely, woke up early and met Verve's roommate at the train station so i cold pick up their keys since they're both out of town for the break, it was a beautiful morning. I came home, ate some granola that I'm SO GLAD I BOUGHT! cleaned the apartment, left, sat at the Tuileries and read (okay napped) for an hour before heading to a dance workshop. It was so fun. Great way to meet people and to let loose. Afterwards, Tangerine and I met up again at the park and ended up played 3 different pick-up games with other dudes there. Two games of 3v3 and one of 4v4. My teams won every time and I was even scoring a decent amount. My defense was on point and I think the guys were NOT expecting me to actually be able to play. I had been told that French guys aren't good at basketball cause it's not really a thing in Europe as much as it is in America, but some of these guys were pretty good. Not Tangerine but he's the one who told me French guys weren't haha.
After ballin, I came home, chilled with the host-dad, and hit the hay. Laying in my tiny room, drifting, breathing...Gotta catch up on some SVU
After the weirdest train ride back to Paris yesterday afternoon, where I sat in the "hallway" of the train instead of my paid seat cause I just didn't want to be near anyone, I met up with my dude Tangerine to play some basketball.
He bought a really nice Nike Elite ball that we are splitting 50/50. It's beautiful.
We found a small parc that's in the middle of us and started playing. I beat him. Twice. I'm so out of shape, but I was scoring, and balling, and dribbling like I never quit. It was freedom. It was respiration. It was amazing. The feel of the ball, the sound of the bounce, the sun setting on the asphalt, and the success of swishing a ball through a hoop with no net.
HOME.
After that, Tangerine and I parted ways to do our own thing. None of my usual crowd was in Paris so I ended up going to a party by myself. I was invited my one of my friends that I met here, she studies in Paris and invited me to a party being thrown by some of her Uni friends. It was awesome. I met some sweet people, and it's so liberating going to a party by yourself where you don't know anyone. You don't have to check on anyone throughout, you don't have to time your exit, you don't have to provide, or include, you just get to be. I've really missed just BEING in a situation.
I got the last metro home around 2am and even found a new way to get home without transfers. Line 3! Throw it up!
Sunday was lovely, woke up early and met Verve's roommate at the train station so i cold pick up their keys since they're both out of town for the break, it was a beautiful morning. I came home, ate some granola that I'm SO GLAD I BOUGHT! cleaned the apartment, left, sat at the Tuileries and read (okay napped) for an hour before heading to a dance workshop. It was so fun. Great way to meet people and to let loose. Afterwards, Tangerine and I met up again at the park and ended up played 3 different pick-up games with other dudes there. Two games of 3v3 and one of 4v4. My teams won every time and I was even scoring a decent amount. My defense was on point and I think the guys were NOT expecting me to actually be able to play. I had been told that French guys aren't good at basketball cause it's not really a thing in Europe as much as it is in America, but some of these guys were pretty good. Not Tangerine but he's the one who told me French guys weren't haha.
After ballin, I came home, chilled with the host-dad, and hit the hay. Laying in my tiny room, drifting, breathing...Gotta catch up on some SVU
 |
| it was beautiful at 7:30 this morning |
Friday, February 21, 2014
Puzzling.
I think I'm going insane.
But my run today was really good again.
I can't wait to go back to Paris tomorrow.
Also, tonight I ate lamb.
I'll never forgive myself.
Neither will that lamb I raised when I was ten.
Dommage.
I did a Spiderman Puzzle twice today.
Once with Dimitri.
Once with Olympe.
I ran and ran, but I just ended up where I started.
But my run today was really good again.
I can't wait to go back to Paris tomorrow.
Also, tonight I ate lamb.
I'll never forgive myself.
Neither will that lamb I raised when I was ten.
Dommage.
I did a Spiderman Puzzle twice today.
Once with Dimitri.
Once with Olympe.
I ran and ran, but I just ended up where I started.
 |
| drew some sad Tarzans today |
 |
| New Rocky in town. Ran some STEPS! |
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Writer's Math
Today, Thursday, 20 of February, 2014...I wrote.
Yeah, yeah, I write all the time, and then not all the time but for those of you who are writers, you'll understand that to be like "Today I wrote!" Is a huge deal.
I began a short story.
After a lazy morning of wandering around the park with Olympe and then her chickening out going to the top of the Belvedere which, I realize I haven't quite explained...it's basically a large water tower, without the water thing on top, and people go up to the top to look out across Arcachon and the ocean and yada yada. Fin.
Olympe chickened out a quarter of the way up. NO big deal. HOWEVER!
Eléonore and I spent the afternoon at a spa? pool? Old person safe haven!?
It had salt water pools, jacuzzis, jets, a cold pool, a sauna etc. It was really nice to just swim and lounge about especially after my run yesterday. I was definitely feeling that one.
But then, I was sitting by the pool, and a story came to me. It uses the same techniques that I usually like to use.
Yeah, yeah, I write all the time, and then not all the time but for those of you who are writers, you'll understand that to be like "Today I wrote!" Is a huge deal.
I began a short story.
After a lazy morning of wandering around the park with Olympe and then her chickening out going to the top of the Belvedere which, I realize I haven't quite explained...it's basically a large water tower, without the water thing on top, and people go up to the top to look out across Arcachon and the ocean and yada yada. Fin.
Olympe chickened out a quarter of the way up. NO big deal. HOWEVER!
Eléonore and I spent the afternoon at a spa? pool? Old person safe haven!?
It had salt water pools, jacuzzis, jets, a cold pool, a sauna etc. It was really nice to just swim and lounge about especially after my run yesterday. I was definitely feeling that one.
But then, I was sitting by the pool, and a story came to me. It uses the same techniques that I usually like to use.
- movement through time
- non-linear plot arch
- a character telling another character the story
- an omnipotent narrator
- love and loss
- heartbreak with a little bit of joy to soften the blow
Basically, the usually criteria BUT it just started flowing out of my into my journal. The place, the date, the characters, the unfoldment, the conversations, I went to a party just in my mind.
It's hard, you stop, you think, you get overwhelmed, but it's up to the writer to continue nonetheless. I like the thing that being a writer is like doing math, all the time, with people's souls.
You can quote me on that.
Because you're conjuring up live people, and you're playing with their fate, but it can't be random. Nothing is random. You have to calculate, manipulate, move, challenge, kill, and somehow make a way for all these occurrences to seem natural, and not just natural but believable.
So, today I did what I call, Writer's Math.
And that means, that despite the spa, and the "relaxing" and "vacationing"
I had an exhausting day.
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| She's cute |
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| Olympe, moments before she chickened out |
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| classic Olympette |
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| infinite possibilities in life |
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Free Afternoon
SO, as I may have mentioned, I'm like, pretty much working this week. Whatever.
I've also been extremely pensive. I've had multiple conversations about the meaning of life, our existence, the pros/cons of being alive in todays world, the cynicism of a young man, and frankly how we all need to do things to feed our souls.
Then I got the afternoon off.
5 hours, to my lonesome.
At first, I just kind of walked around, sat on a bench, drew, took some pictures, then I sat on the beach for a while, took more pictures, wrote in my journal. Amazing how sometimes being alive still feels like you're dreaming. When I was done at the beach-not that I'm ever truly "done" it was just getting real cold-I made my way up the big hill at the center of town to the park, and more importantly, The Belvedère. But on the way, I stopped in a Catholic church.
There's something really beautiful about sitting in a church. It's quiet. Quiet enough for me to actually hear my own thoughts. I lit a candle for my loved ones. I looked at the stained glass. I love the silence.
I was once asked, "Do you like the sound of silence?"
The answer then, as it is now, was yes. I find in silence there is the most valuable sound/noise because you are finally communicating with yourself. You're finally listening.
Furthermore, there is something equally unique and beautiful about sitting in silence with someone else. Whether it be a stranger, a lover, other church-goers, family, a friend, an animal...
And there is no better way to interrupt silence than with bells.
I've also been extremely pensive. I've had multiple conversations about the meaning of life, our existence, the pros/cons of being alive in todays world, the cynicism of a young man, and frankly how we all need to do things to feed our souls.
Then I got the afternoon off.
5 hours, to my lonesome.
At first, I just kind of walked around, sat on a bench, drew, took some pictures, then I sat on the beach for a while, took more pictures, wrote in my journal. Amazing how sometimes being alive still feels like you're dreaming. When I was done at the beach-not that I'm ever truly "done" it was just getting real cold-I made my way up the big hill at the center of town to the park, and more importantly, The Belvedère. But on the way, I stopped in a Catholic church.
There's something really beautiful about sitting in a church. It's quiet. Quiet enough for me to actually hear my own thoughts. I lit a candle for my loved ones. I looked at the stained glass. I love the silence.
I was once asked, "Do you like the sound of silence?"
The answer then, as it is now, was yes. I find in silence there is the most valuable sound/noise because you are finally communicating with yourself. You're finally listening.
Furthermore, there is something equally unique and beautiful about sitting in silence with someone else. Whether it be a stranger, a lover, other church-goers, family, a friend, an animal...
And there is no better way to interrupt silence than with bells.
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| that dude |
 |
| fisherm...lady! |
 |
| Top of the Belvedère |
 |
| Encore |
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| the illuminated silence |
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| I WENT RUNNING ON THE BEACH |
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| IT WAS REALLY BEAUTIFUL |
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Insanity
"Oh good, you're going insane too"
These words made me think. Too? Who else is going insane? You? How? You live in sunshine and desire. Me? I live in darkness and uncertainty. The world? Well, we all knew this day would come when the world loses all meaning, and even the artists can't express themselves.
But I suppose even the most desired people lose purpose when they've given so much of themselves away.
I've come up with a phrase. Mildly depressing, but insanely liberating:
I write because it makes me feel like I have told someone everything, even though no one is listening.
I get it. Do you?
After a fun afternoon of bowling, which I always forget how much I love AND hate, (but mostly love because the shoes are dope, and throwing shit is always fun; knocking things over & destruction, who doesn't love that!) I was given an hour and a half to myself to promenade through Arcachon.
Instead, I just went to the beach where I proceeded to stare at the sky for an hour. Incubus playing in my ears, the cold of the ocean whipping over my body, and hard sand straightening my absolutely disastrous posture. I stared at the sky, and was entertained. I think it's becoming an issue in the world that no one can just sit in silence, thinking of nothing, thinking of no one. How often are we completely at ease? I want to be more.
As important as I think it is to use one's mind, I think it's equally as important to not use it at all. To give it a break, a rest, a cleansing of silence. Even still you think a few things, how can you not? I'm not a buddhist monk, I haven't mastered the art of silencing my mind. But to be tranquil and content with solitude is an art I have mastered. I haven't spoken English out loud in days. I haven't noticed this much beauty in simplicity in a long time. I haven't had to constantly redirect my thought to the positive so consistently in a while. It's a great practice.
I began to draw the shapes in the clouds. Dogs, demons, birds, fancy dresses, etc. etc. etc.
When I'm alone I feel most like myself...
Insane is just another word for interesting...
These words made me think. Too? Who else is going insane? You? How? You live in sunshine and desire. Me? I live in darkness and uncertainty. The world? Well, we all knew this day would come when the world loses all meaning, and even the artists can't express themselves.
But I suppose even the most desired people lose purpose when they've given so much of themselves away.
I've come up with a phrase. Mildly depressing, but insanely liberating:
I write because it makes me feel like I have told someone everything, even though no one is listening.
I get it. Do you?
After a fun afternoon of bowling, which I always forget how much I love AND hate, (but mostly love because the shoes are dope, and throwing shit is always fun; knocking things over & destruction, who doesn't love that!) I was given an hour and a half to myself to promenade through Arcachon.
Instead, I just went to the beach where I proceeded to stare at the sky for an hour. Incubus playing in my ears, the cold of the ocean whipping over my body, and hard sand straightening my absolutely disastrous posture. I stared at the sky, and was entertained. I think it's becoming an issue in the world that no one can just sit in silence, thinking of nothing, thinking of no one. How often are we completely at ease? I want to be more.
As important as I think it is to use one's mind, I think it's equally as important to not use it at all. To give it a break, a rest, a cleansing of silence. Even still you think a few things, how can you not? I'm not a buddhist monk, I haven't mastered the art of silencing my mind. But to be tranquil and content with solitude is an art I have mastered. I haven't spoken English out loud in days. I haven't noticed this much beauty in simplicity in a long time. I haven't had to constantly redirect my thought to the positive so consistently in a while. It's a great practice.
I began to draw the shapes in the clouds. Dogs, demons, birds, fancy dresses, etc. etc. etc.
When I'm alone I feel most like myself...
Insane is just another word for interesting...
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| Add caption |
Monday, February 17, 2014
Arcachon
This morning we left for Arcachon, a small beachside town not too far from Bordeaux. We caught a train at 11am and (after sleeping through most of the three hour trip) arrived in the beautiful Bordeaux with ease. We were met by the grandmother, Manou, and from there took a car ride to lovely Arcachon.
Nothing really happened today other than a little conversation with Eléonore and some sitting on the beach. I asked her if she was happy with me and she said that I was doing a good job and that the children love me a lot. That's nice. She then mentioned that I need to not be on the internet, on my phone, reading, or journaling as much in front of them. She wants me to be WITH them all when we're all together.
That's when my job gets awkward. The role of an au pair isn't really a role at all. You are there to make sure the children are alive, entertained, and doing (eventually at least) what the parents expect them to do. The job gets really difficult though when the kids yell at you all the time, make you feel stupid, and don't listen to anything you say.
In English, I'd have zero issue asserting myself over the kids, and having loads of fun but also knowing how to discipline and get what I want out of them. I'm an adult. I'm smarter than you, I know more than you. I don't need your advice on how to bake because I assumed the bakers role in a functioning kitchen that fed 150 of you little shmucks for an entire summer. Pipe down there petite fille.
However, an au pair is kind of the doormat. The scapegoat. When the parents don't want to be near the kids, you have to be. When the parents don't want to discipline their kids, you have to be the bad guy. When you think you're going to kill them because they're being dicks, it doesn't matter, you're "being paid" to be the punching bag.
Ultimately, I love them. This is a lovely family, and we have a lot of fun together. Would I au pair again? Probably not in another language, and without firmer requirements/necessary accommodations. This is a really tough job, it's not just playing with kids all day. It's being abused, hit, ignored, fought with, and essentially taking the heat for any and everything. You're not a parent, you're not a guardian, you're not a friend, a sibling, nothing. It's a bizarre experience. You have no say, and no rights. You're just kind of there to make life easier.
But anyway, I'll do my best to step it up, well the kids just got home so I have to flee the scene and hide my computer.
C'est la vie.
Nothing really happened today other than a little conversation with Eléonore and some sitting on the beach. I asked her if she was happy with me and she said that I was doing a good job and that the children love me a lot. That's nice. She then mentioned that I need to not be on the internet, on my phone, reading, or journaling as much in front of them. She wants me to be WITH them all when we're all together.
That's when my job gets awkward. The role of an au pair isn't really a role at all. You are there to make sure the children are alive, entertained, and doing (eventually at least) what the parents expect them to do. The job gets really difficult though when the kids yell at you all the time, make you feel stupid, and don't listen to anything you say.
In English, I'd have zero issue asserting myself over the kids, and having loads of fun but also knowing how to discipline and get what I want out of them. I'm an adult. I'm smarter than you, I know more than you. I don't need your advice on how to bake because I assumed the bakers role in a functioning kitchen that fed 150 of you little shmucks for an entire summer. Pipe down there petite fille.
However, an au pair is kind of the doormat. The scapegoat. When the parents don't want to be near the kids, you have to be. When the parents don't want to discipline their kids, you have to be the bad guy. When you think you're going to kill them because they're being dicks, it doesn't matter, you're "being paid" to be the punching bag.
Ultimately, I love them. This is a lovely family, and we have a lot of fun together. Would I au pair again? Probably not in another language, and without firmer requirements/necessary accommodations. This is a really tough job, it's not just playing with kids all day. It's being abused, hit, ignored, fought with, and essentially taking the heat for any and everything. You're not a parent, you're not a guardian, you're not a friend, a sibling, nothing. It's a bizarre experience. You have no say, and no rights. You're just kind of there to make life easier.
But anyway, I'll do my best to step it up, well the kids just got home so I have to flee the scene and hide my computer.
C'est la vie.
 |
| Sometimes it is SUPER hilarious when they fight though |
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Sunday, Monday Happy Days!
As per usual, I spent the Sunday with Hannah.
But unlike most Sunday's that we've spent together, we've began something of a tradition.
HAPPY DAYS DINER.
It smells like America people, and they make bomb ass milkshakes.
Last weekend, in a fit of giggles we were attempting to find a mall that ended up being closed, but lo and behold an HD Diner popped up out of the midst and graced us with its delicious 5euro milkshakes, and rosemary seasoned fries.
A similar occurrence transpired today as well. After spending the afternoon at the Tuileries watching people get too intimate under the end-of-winter sun, we decided we'd stroll up Rue de Rivoli and see where the afternoon would take it. Both of us were pretty hungry, but that in-between-meals hunger. You don't want a full entrée, but a bag of chips just won't do. As we winded through the various shops and restaurants of Châtelet it appeared, once again, rising out of the distance with majestic promise.
HAPPY DAYS DINER.
The tradition is solid now. Chocolate and peanut-butter milkshake and some rosemary fries.
The rest of the evening consisted of visiting The Verve at her new place in the 10e that is DOOOOOOOOPPPPEEEEEE, and then a fancy dinner in the 16e Chez Melanie, a lovely friend of Lolo.
I ate more spaghetti, but this time there was champagne. Sooo...minor step up.
But unlike most Sunday's that we've spent together, we've began something of a tradition.
HAPPY DAYS DINER.
It smells like America people, and they make bomb ass milkshakes.
Last weekend, in a fit of giggles we were attempting to find a mall that ended up being closed, but lo and behold an HD Diner popped up out of the midst and graced us with its delicious 5euro milkshakes, and rosemary seasoned fries.
A similar occurrence transpired today as well. After spending the afternoon at the Tuileries watching people get too intimate under the end-of-winter sun, we decided we'd stroll up Rue de Rivoli and see where the afternoon would take it. Both of us were pretty hungry, but that in-between-meals hunger. You don't want a full entrée, but a bag of chips just won't do. As we winded through the various shops and restaurants of Châtelet it appeared, once again, rising out of the distance with majestic promise.
HAPPY DAYS DINER.
The tradition is solid now. Chocolate and peanut-butter milkshake and some rosemary fries.
The rest of the evening consisted of visiting The Verve at her new place in the 10e that is DOOOOOOOOPPPPEEEEEE, and then a fancy dinner in the 16e Chez Melanie, a lovely friend of Lolo.
I ate more spaghetti, but this time there was champagne. Sooo...minor step up.
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| HAPPY[booby]DAYS |
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| The Tuileries with a sneaky-peak at the Tour Eiffel |
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| these people... |
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