Smooth Criminal is on tv right now. The super pop, super cheesy version of MTV in france is called NRJ. promounced "energyyyyyyyyyy."
Its nice to have friends over and be completely entranced by the TV. Its also funny as hell to see my french friends try to sing the words to MJ songs. Last week at a party "Man in the Mirror" was playing and my friend was singing, " Man in the middle...." And I was like, " Dude, you just gave the song a totally diffeent meaning. But i think my boys in the Castro would appreciate your version..."
I imagine that this experience for me is quite similar to when I sing french songs... "je suis ah blah blah(insert made up french words here) lalala."
Im leaving France in 3-4 weeks to move to London. Dont remember if i mentioned that. But yah, im goin. Im audi 5000. Bon voyage. I will miss France. I will Paris. I will miss my friends. My apartment. and thats about it. But I guess when you leave somewhere that really all youll miss.
My family still isnt here so im left with friends, cafes and architecture.
I like my life here. Its chill. the lifestyle agrees with me. But somehow its different for me than when i first moved here. I had a sense of entitlement at first. I was pretty sure I was better than everyone else. Now Ive grown to appreciate their way. their manners. their fashion. and you know what? americans have a lot to learn. We are so in-n-out. Dinner in under an hour. I mean, who goes out to just eat? here, dinner is an all night festivity. 3 hours minimum. Apero, Entree, plat, dessert, cafe, digestif and then shots if you know the staff... its so nice to just be left alone with your friends. these cafes and restaurants quickly become your home. why? because youre there more then in your own house. and they leave you alone! in America, you think the waiter is rude for ignoring. here, its custom. you stay as long as you like. its yours. everything here. its slow. its appreciated.
i took a cruise on the seine yesterday with Michaela and her sister who was in town from Germany.it was really cool. the buildings, the achitecture, the fucking apartments with floor to ceiling window views of the seine.. oh la la. c'est magnifique! if i had an extra 20 million lying around- mark my words- id buy it up. of course this comes with a trade off. yesterday it was 90 and humid. humid like the tropical jungle. it was awful. and the sun beats down with no wind. the concrete breathes up at you. you get sticky and tired. i curse this weather. but how can you complain? its summer in Paris and i dont work! i can do whatever the fuck i want! this is the point that i think for the rest of my life i will be making--a summer in paris to do nothing. im a 20 year old with longer hangovers and a language barrier. cest la vie.
Im pretty drunk at the moment as im waiting for my friend on the scooter to pick me up. this was the orginal thought for this blog but i expired. blah blah blah. i do love the scooter in Paris. its so fun! its so French. and also, yes so dangerous. but oh so fun. for better or worse, it equates to everything else in my life thats dangerous.
Alors this entry did give me the idea that I need to write a recap of my american vs french differences. bring it back to basics.go back to day 1. ill go back to year 1 in france. to the entries when i had to sign language the doorman and couldnt get a decent drink.
i think ill go back. and i think ill smile.
more to come...
July 4, 2009
June 23, 2009
Be Another Me
The drums, the violin, the strumming guitar are beating in my ears. I took you for a walk today. The song is "Be Another Me" by Curtis Newton. The song that carries me through this beautiful sunny afternoon in Paris. Life is not so bad.
Ive been cruising around my neighborhood all afternoon and have decided to stop at a cafe in the sun for lunch. Salad, Rose, ciggys, pen and paper.
My perfect combination for happiness.Enjoying my last few days of "french-icity" before I move to London in 3 weeks. Ive taken a job at a design agency as a Producer. This should hold me over and pay my bills until I can retire and just take on the greatest job in the world. Oh. Publishing my book and having it become the next BestSeller and go on Oprah etc. then Ill just travel the world and sign copies of my book. Ill bring along my assistant and my air-kisses. It'll be fantastic. Its amazing how much time a day i can spend thinking about this scenario. In my head, its quite real. Its what its like to " be another me."
One of the best things about not working at the moment is that I have plenty of time to daydream. Hours upon hours to think about me. What I want. What I want to do, to be. This is time well spent. It keeps me off the bottle during the day (sometimes) and fills me with inspiration that I can be and do anything I want. And why not? I have so far.Ive never been one to sit back and rest on my laurels so I use my time wisely. I try not to get bored but its hard. I keep writing. My book is half finished now and im getting pretty excited.
Ive decided that the first half of the book will be my time from SF to Paris. And the second half will be from Paris to London. Unless of course my publisher wants to keep it in two separate novels. What would Oprah do? Oh well ill cross that bridge when I get to it.
Now back to being another me.
April 21, 2009
In N Out
Its been a while. I needed to get out of the house. Here's the problem. Its safe in there. Im not agoraphobic or anything, but when I leave the house, I tend to drink more. Et voila, here I am at The Ren...drinking. Standard. Cote du Rhone. Waiting for a friend to come over for a dinner and dish sesh.
In the meantime, heres the latest. The man, the "Marseilles move-in" has now moved out. Er rather, has been asked to leave. Shocked? Probably not. Did anyone make wagers on my fast and furious attempt at domesticating? You should have. It was a long shot, but I thought I had good odds. Anyway, basically it just wasnt working. Between his ocd jealousy and my crazi, I mean me-ness, it just didnt work out.
Still friends I think. I hope. But not sure. I mean you never want to have to say, lets still be friends, but I think really we will. That said, I offered him the casual romp and dinner tryst, so we'll see what happens. However, I dont know how one will take the offer of sex as you are being urged out the door with duffel bags and toiletries hanging off your limbs. But Im still attracted to him, and I meant it, so I said it.
I know I know, "Oh Diane" is actually what I thought too. Its nice to know at least some things never change. So its back to me. Square one and loving it.
In the meantime, heres the latest. The man, the "Marseilles move-in" has now moved out. Er rather, has been asked to leave. Shocked? Probably not. Did anyone make wagers on my fast and furious attempt at domesticating? You should have. It was a long shot, but I thought I had good odds. Anyway, basically it just wasnt working. Between his ocd jealousy and my crazi, I mean me-ness, it just didnt work out.
Still friends I think. I hope. But not sure. I mean you never want to have to say, lets still be friends, but I think really we will. That said, I offered him the casual romp and dinner tryst, so we'll see what happens. However, I dont know how one will take the offer of sex as you are being urged out the door with duffel bags and toiletries hanging off your limbs. But Im still attracted to him, and I meant it, so I said it.
I know I know, "Oh Diane" is actually what I thought too. Its nice to know at least some things never change. So its back to me. Square one and loving it.
Invincible
Lets go back to early February 2009 when I orginally wrote this post.
Im trying to drink less. Its better for me I know, but why does everything good have to be so bad? Ive noticed a trend in my writing here as Im sure you guys have too, that drinking seems to be this American's favorite pastime. True nuf. But when in Paris, do as the Parisians do. They love their cafe, but really how many cups can one have? Newly unemployed and on the market, isnt wine simply a wiser option? I mean lets face it. When you dont have to set an alarm, because your only task for the day is to eventually wake up and check facebook... Im all in. Lets go drink!
But alas, this is not so good for me.
And really more than anything else, I believe that alcohol is the gateway drug we should all be so wary of. What to do when drinking a nice wine, or a spritzy cocktail or ice cold beer? Smoke a ciggy of course. And its all downhill form there. Once youre drinking and smoking, whats to stop you? Youre invincible. But lets be clear. Im not talking standing on the ledge of a 40 story building on PCP invincible, but rather you just generally feel happier than everyone else. And your question here, inevitably, "Are you masking unhappiness in your life with a bottle and a box?" Perhaps. But at least, Im aware of it. And I can still read my writing on the page so thats good. And No, Im not staggering down the street like a hobo in heat. I look pretty and im dressed well. I just happen to be inebriated, so what? Defensive? No no. Just explaining. Thats what us writers do, explain. Tell stories. Enlighten even.
Im trying to drink less. Its better for me I know, but why does everything good have to be so bad? Ive noticed a trend in my writing here as Im sure you guys have too, that drinking seems to be this American's favorite pastime. True nuf. But when in Paris, do as the Parisians do. They love their cafe, but really how many cups can one have? Newly unemployed and on the market, isnt wine simply a wiser option? I mean lets face it. When you dont have to set an alarm, because your only task for the day is to eventually wake up and check facebook... Im all in. Lets go drink!
But alas, this is not so good for me.
And really more than anything else, I believe that alcohol is the gateway drug we should all be so wary of. What to do when drinking a nice wine, or a spritzy cocktail or ice cold beer? Smoke a ciggy of course. And its all downhill form there. Once youre drinking and smoking, whats to stop you? Youre invincible. But lets be clear. Im not talking standing on the ledge of a 40 story building on PCP invincible, but rather you just generally feel happier than everyone else. And your question here, inevitably, "Are you masking unhappiness in your life with a bottle and a box?" Perhaps. But at least, Im aware of it. And I can still read my writing on the page so thats good. And No, Im not staggering down the street like a hobo in heat. I look pretty and im dressed well. I just happen to be inebriated, so what? Defensive? No no. Just explaining. Thats what us writers do, explain. Tell stories. Enlighten even.
March 20, 2009
Marco Polo
Marco Polo and the search for a new world and love. And yes, sometimes a fish out of water. Thats me more often than not. So heres what Ive gotten myself into recently...
6.My Mom called me a "cougar" and although offended, everytime I think about it, I laugh. (btw-hes 26 people. get your heads out of the gutter. im not Mary Kay Laterneau or anything)
We met. We saw. We met again. Et voila. That was it.
Yes him. The Marseille guy. He is not only now my wonderfully sweet and sexy boyfriend, but he is also now living with me. Chez Diane has very quickly become chez nous. What can I say? Thats how I roll.
There are a million reasons why this is a very bad idea, but there is also a strong handful as to why this can be good. Im not going to pro and con list here so lets just review some things that we know to be true on both sides, 1 thru 10 in no particular order.
1. Regular sex is good. A live-in boyfriend provides frequent, uninhibited sex.
2. I can be psycho and crazy. Its possible I lose my shit, and he and the relationship are out the door next week.
3.You always have someone to eat dinner with, have impromptu dance party with, and wake up next to.
4. He speaks French and English, hence he can read my mail for me and help me with those a**holes that work in French administration.
5. He goes to school all day so I still have my afternoons of Leisure all to myself.
6.My Mom called me a "cougar" and although offended, everytime I think about it, I laugh. (btw-hes 26 people. get your heads out of the gutter. im not Mary Kay Laterneau or anything)
7. Im generous to a fault, but I also hate to share. I usually prefer to buy you your own so I can keep mine to myself. Spoiled much? maybe. But lets look at this as a win-win, not me being a brat.
8. The only other time I lived with a man, was when my ex moved in with me after 4 days. I think this is the only way I know how to do it. (or not do it, but lets think positive;)
9. Im staying in Paris a bit longer than expected, so this is happily substituting as the next adventure until the rest of the plan unfolds.
10. I think we're in Love.
aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwww
March 3, 2009
Debauchery, Pornography etc etc
Lets talk weekend shall we? This is where I would ideally let someone who could accurately recount the events of the past few days step in, but im the writer. So here goes...It started out as an innocent Karaoke experience with some French, german,a couple polish and an american to boot. soon to follow was what turned into a weekend of debauchery, pornography and photography.
Lets go back. a few weeks ago, my friend michaela suggested i come with her to Karaoke at someIrish pub in Republique. she says,"its really fun, you'll love it!"
So of course most of you know my response."Have we met?"
But my new years resolutuon was to try new things, so after a year and a half in Paris, i guess my number was up, so to speak.
So head held low, i accompany my friend to Corcorans for Karaoke. Ok- straight to the bar. I start with a large beer, but quickly realize that the alocohol percent there is just not gonna cut it. i quickly switch to a vodka redbull. afterall, you need to be quick on your game to read all those colored letters flashing by with unknown lyrics, but a chorus you could sing deaf and blind.
None of this relevant however, because frankly,i dont sing. This was quickly discovered and fairly acknlowged by all those in the now growing group of regiular karaoke-ers in my presence. BUT what i CAN do my friends, is motivate a fucking crowd. I just sort of smile and dance along the perimeter with my hands in the air. this is better for me. so its like im participating without actually comitting. (note: see Love life)
Anyway, karaoke was actually very cool. a thursday must do. cool people, good friends, a highly energetic drink mix and a mirophone. nuff said. Thursdays are Karaoke night. its 2009, people.
Ok so shoot to 3 weeks later. My friend Olga has her boyfriend in town from Marseille with a few of his buddies. "The Marseille Crew." This is important to note because this group single handedly changed my perception of french men.They were funny, nice, handome,charming, open...etc.Bravo moms of Marseilles-you did good ladies!
Lets get to the debauchery shall we? The boys arrived just in time for karaoke on Thursday and fun times had by all. Saturday turned into what i could best describe as "my time as a Polish Vodka souvenir. " Never in my life have I continued with shots of vodka one after another and another. People I love vodka. Im a believer. dont underestimate the Poles. They will bring it. Hard. Needless to say my saturday ended with about 10 people leaving the apartment around 6am, and about 2 people staying. She got some. oh yes she did.
She got some again sunday.
And Monday.
But lets go back to sunday. I offered a small apero to the crew at my house in the next afternoon just to laugh and recap and think about all the other things we have going for us in our lives aside from alocoholism. (ive found this a great retreat and zen- some would compare it to Yoga or Pilates, but i prefer the "drink through it method")
So the nice glass of white wine eventually turned into yes you guessed it, vodka shots. Clothes are coming off, dancing on the couch, on the ceiling, pirate swords, headbands, blindfolds and "the lift" all come into play. Its pure filth. And as i looked around to this group from atop my wicker bench, I felt so proud. here they are. The smiling, the shining, the true, and well yes, the drunk.
Sunday turned into monday and there I was, just a (un)mindful lady of leisure, hungover with breakky in bed from marseille guy, and a (big)handful of cryptonite.
February 5, 2009
February 2, 2009
Feeling Rogue-ish
Im going rogue. This is me going rogue. Not sure if i can make this decision myself or if my team of republican monkeys needs to make it for me, but yes, Ive decided, Im going rogue.
With cigarette in hand and glass of red by my side, ABBA on the itouch and James Bond photos posted all about my house in lieu of the weekend party, i feel rogue-ish.
I was recently laid off my job at cbs. People, it was like winning the lottery. If you had any idea how much money the French government is willing to pay you to remain jobless youd move here tomorrow. So i can basically stay without a job for about the next 2 years and live quite comfortably. Once i understand what the French mean when they tell me that even for french people its extremely difficult to go through the "administrative" bit of collecting unemployment Ill feel better. Once thats done, the only problem is that ive been jobless with savings before and it wasnt pretty. Out every night, friends over all the time, the best clothes due to daily shopping expeditions... wait what was i saying...?
So now the question- what do I want to do when i grow up? OK, so ideally Id open a taqueria in Paris, then London. We'd serve tacos and burritos by day then a dope bar at night. Sort of like Nicks Crispy tacos in SF, but without that lame ass club cluttering it up. I just dont know if the french would like mexican food? Maybe theres a reason there are no taquerias here. I mean the french Love to cut their food up into small bites and a taco just doesnt fit that mold. Also theres no cream or butter involved with burritos. I cant imagine a burrito with steak tartare inside with a lovely cream sauce on top. Its gonna be my way. Fresh. In all senses of the word, like with a PH. PHRESH.
ok ok so if i dont do that heres the plan. I just spent a week in London interviewing and checking out neighborhoods that would potentially suit me. London. wow. I was like a kid in a candy store. I wanted to talk to everyone! Hi Hi how are you, whats new, just being charming and witty and letting everyone talk to me. I feel like Ive been dead the last year. Its sad to say, but the french just dont get Americans. And lets be real. Im cool. I can blend in and I can take the back seat, but Im OVER it! Why should I? This last London trip held good talks with friends, a great vibe, a positive outlook on the job search and sex. So what the F am i still doing here? OK I need a visa. thats the next step but then im golden. Im actually looking forward to writing the French with English Subtitles recap probably as much as you are, but for now I think I may foray into British with American Subtitles.
Until then, Ill be here. If not, leave a message after the beep and Ill call you when im back from shopping. xx
With cigarette in hand and glass of red by my side, ABBA on the itouch and James Bond photos posted all about my house in lieu of the weekend party, i feel rogue-ish.
I was recently laid off my job at cbs. People, it was like winning the lottery. If you had any idea how much money the French government is willing to pay you to remain jobless youd move here tomorrow. So i can basically stay without a job for about the next 2 years and live quite comfortably. Once i understand what the French mean when they tell me that even for french people its extremely difficult to go through the "administrative" bit of collecting unemployment Ill feel better. Once thats done, the only problem is that ive been jobless with savings before and it wasnt pretty. Out every night, friends over all the time, the best clothes due to daily shopping expeditions... wait what was i saying...?
So now the question- what do I want to do when i grow up? OK, so ideally Id open a taqueria in Paris, then London. We'd serve tacos and burritos by day then a dope bar at night. Sort of like Nicks Crispy tacos in SF, but without that lame ass club cluttering it up. I just dont know if the french would like mexican food? Maybe theres a reason there are no taquerias here. I mean the french Love to cut their food up into small bites and a taco just doesnt fit that mold. Also theres no cream or butter involved with burritos. I cant imagine a burrito with steak tartare inside with a lovely cream sauce on top. Its gonna be my way. Fresh. In all senses of the word, like with a PH. PHRESH.
ok ok so if i dont do that heres the plan. I just spent a week in London interviewing and checking out neighborhoods that would potentially suit me. London. wow. I was like a kid in a candy store. I wanted to talk to everyone! Hi Hi how are you, whats new, just being charming and witty and letting everyone talk to me. I feel like Ive been dead the last year. Its sad to say, but the french just dont get Americans. And lets be real. Im cool. I can blend in and I can take the back seat, but Im OVER it! Why should I? This last London trip held good talks with friends, a great vibe, a positive outlook on the job search and sex. So what the F am i still doing here? OK I need a visa. thats the next step but then im golden. Im actually looking forward to writing the French with English Subtitles recap probably as much as you are, but for now I think I may foray into British with American Subtitles.
Until then, Ill be here. If not, leave a message after the beep and Ill call you when im back from shopping. xx
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