After the tattooing and waxing – what is left? Cutting off the hair of course. My hair guy Jason and I reached an agreement. To taunt and play havoc with this rather awful last day of May I let him have a field day with the scissors.
The buck stops here. I’m NOT into body piercing.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Last in the trilogy of bold and daring moves
…life was such an easy game to play
Yesterday, my breakfast was at this favorite spot. The blackboard sign says that full meals are served there as well. I remember having eaten a yummy salad of French green beans there not too long ago. But the morning croissants are equally exquisite. Sitting, sipping, watching people (it’s mostly men in the early morning hours) come in and exchange a few words – the world seemed a hospitable place.
…life was such an easy game to play
Yesterday, my breakfast was at this favorite spot. The blackboard sign says that full meals are served there as well. I remember having eaten a yummy salad of French green beans there not too long ago. But the morning croissants are equally exquisite. Sitting, sipping, watching people (it’s mostly men in the early morning hours) come in and exchange a few words – the world seemed a hospitable place.
If returns are always unpleasant, let me tell you that mine ranks up there in the unpleasant domain. It may get a prize. At least third place finish in terms of yukyness. Not to complain, but:
1. I missed the bus from Chicago to Madison by minutes and was therefore forced to wait for hours until the next one.
2. I nursed my sorrows at the Hilton bar.
3. My suitcases and bags were heavy, but they had to be lugged (in Madison) over to the parking lot at the Business School, where my car was parked.
4. The Business School was locked up for the holiday and so I had to walk, suitcases and all, down the serpentine driveway, all the way down down down to the car.
5. The car would not start. Dead. Completely.
6. The wonderful custodial staff offered to jump start it for me.
7. It did not work. The car is more than dead. It is negative dead.
8. The wonderful custodial staff offered to give me a ride home.
9. I wanted to log on last night, but I had lost my link card in one of those frantic searches for computer hook up in Europe.
10. So instead I used the phone to conduct unpleasant business.
11. There was no pleasant offset.
12. I fell asleep sometime when I think in Europe people were already on their lunch hour.
As a post script, I have to say the following:
1. The day is sunny. Things look saner under a bright blue sky.
2. I found an extra link card at home for my computer and so I am back on line.
3. Being on line allowed me to discover some pretty special notes from people who had been tracking my travels. Given the above twelve points, I’d say they could not have come at a better time. So thank you. I promise to make this needy stretch as short as possible.
4. The irises are blooming in the back yard. I may hereafter forever hate irises, but they are blooming, and they are pretty.
1. I missed the bus from Chicago to Madison by minutes and was therefore forced to wait for hours until the next one.
2. I nursed my sorrows at the Hilton bar.
3. My suitcases and bags were heavy, but they had to be lugged (in Madison) over to the parking lot at the Business School, where my car was parked.
4. The Business School was locked up for the holiday and so I had to walk, suitcases and all, down the serpentine driveway, all the way down down down to the car.
5. The car would not start. Dead. Completely.
6. The wonderful custodial staff offered to jump start it for me.
7. It did not work. The car is more than dead. It is negative dead.
8. The wonderful custodial staff offered to give me a ride home.
9. I wanted to log on last night, but I had lost my link card in one of those frantic searches for computer hook up in Europe.
10. So instead I used the phone to conduct unpleasant business.
11. There was no pleasant offset.
12. I fell asleep sometime when I think in Europe people were already on their lunch hour.
As a post script, I have to say the following:
1. The day is sunny. Things look saner under a bright blue sky.
2. I found an extra link card at home for my computer and so I am back on line.
3. Being on line allowed me to discover some pretty special notes from people who had been tracking my travels. Given the above twelve points, I’d say they could not have come at a better time. So thank you. I promise to make this needy stretch as short as possible.
4. The irises are blooming in the back yard. I may hereafter forever hate irises, but they are blooming, and they are pretty.
If returns are always unpleasant, let me tell you that mine ranks up there in the unpleasant domain. It may get a prize. At least third place finish in terms of yukyness. Not to complain, but:
1. I missed the bus from Chicago to Madison by minutes and was therefore forced to wait for hours until the next one.
2. I nursed my sorrows at the Hilton bar.
3. My suitcases and bags were heavy, but they had to be lugged (in Madison) over to the parking lot at the Business School, where my car was parked.
4. The Business School was locked up for the holiday and so I had to walk, suitcases and all, down the serpentine driveway, all the way down down down to the car.
5. The car would not start. Dead. Completely.
6. The wonderful custodial staff offered to jump start it for me.
7. It did not work. The car is more than dead. It is negative dead.
8. The wonderful custodial staff offered to give me a ride home.
9. I wanted to log on last night, but I had lost my link card in one of those frantic searches for computer hook up in Europe.
10. So instead I used the phone to conduct unpleasant business.
11. There was no pleasant offset.
12. I fell asleep sometime when I think in Europe people were already on their lunch hour.
As a post script, I have to say the following:
1. The day is sunny. Things look saner under a bright blue sky.
2. I found an extra link card at home for my computer and so I am back on line.
3. Being on line allowed me to discover some pretty special notes from people who had been tracking my travels. Given the above twelve points, I’d say they could not have come at a better time. So thank you. I promise to make this needy stretch as short as possible.
4. The irises are blooming in the back yard. I may hereafter forever hate irises, but they are blooming, and they are pretty.
1. I missed the bus from Chicago to Madison by minutes and was therefore forced to wait for hours until the next one.
2. I nursed my sorrows at the Hilton bar.
3. My suitcases and bags were heavy, but they had to be lugged (in Madison) over to the parking lot at the Business School, where my car was parked.
4. The Business School was locked up for the holiday and so I had to walk, suitcases and all, down the serpentine driveway, all the way down down down to the car.
5. The car would not start. Dead. Completely.
6. The wonderful custodial staff offered to jump start it for me.
7. It did not work. The car is more than dead. It is negative dead.
8. The wonderful custodial staff offered to give me a ride home.
9. I wanted to log on last night, but I had lost my link card in one of those frantic searches for computer hook up in Europe.
10. So instead I used the phone to conduct unpleasant business.
11. There was no pleasant offset.
12. I fell asleep sometime when I think in Europe people were already on their lunch hour.
As a post script, I have to say the following:
1. The day is sunny. Things look saner under a bright blue sky.
2. I found an extra link card at home for my computer and so I am back on line.
3. Being on line allowed me to discover some pretty special notes from people who had been tracking my travels. Given the above twelve points, I’d say they could not have come at a better time. So thank you. I promise to make this needy stretch as short as possible.
4. The irises are blooming in the back yard. I may hereafter forever hate irises, but they are blooming, and they are pretty.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
(From Paris): A tale of a meal
When you need to wrap it all up and stuff it inside, when you cannot walk another mile or look into the window of another shop, when the rain starts its Parisian thing again – I say head for a good meal.
I don’t think about where to eat in Paris. If I am here only for a day or two, I check the menu of an old standby and if it looks good (as it always does) then I go there. This isn’t the time to step outside the box – it’s a time to snuggle into a familiar setting and enjoy the parade of pleasurable sights and tastes.
So, I’m ending my Europe posts with a parade of pleasurable sights and tastes of my last evening on this side of the ocean.
Early in the evening, I considered grabbing a snack. Street food tempts.
I don’t think about where to eat in Paris. If I am here only for a day or two, I check the menu of an old standby and if it looks good (as it always does) then I go there. This isn’t the time to step outside the box – it’s a time to snuggle into a familiar setting and enjoy the parade of pleasurable sights and tastes.
So, I’m ending my Europe posts with a parade of pleasurable sights and tastes of my last evening on this side of the ocean.
Early in the evening, I considered grabbing a snack. Street food tempts.
(From Paris): A tale of a meal
When you need to wrap it all up and stuff it inside, when you cannot walk another mile or look into the window of another shop, when the rain starts its Parisian thing again – I say head for a good meal.
I don’t think about where to eat in Paris. If I am here only for a day or two, I check the menu of an old standby and if it looks good (as it always does) then I go there. This isn’t the time to step outside the box – it’s a time to snuggle into a familiar setting and enjoy the parade of pleasurable sights and tastes.
So, I’m ending my Europe posts with a parade of pleasurable sights and tastes of my last evening on this side of the ocean.
Early in the evening, I considered grabbing a snack. Street food tempts.
I don’t think about where to eat in Paris. If I am here only for a day or two, I check the menu of an old standby and if it looks good (as it always does) then I go there. This isn’t the time to step outside the box – it’s a time to snuggle into a familiar setting and enjoy the parade of pleasurable sights and tastes.
So, I’m ending my Europe posts with a parade of pleasurable sights and tastes of my last evening on this side of the ocean.
Early in the evening, I considered grabbing a snack. Street food tempts.
Much later, when the skies turned dark from both the evening light and the puffed up rain clouds, I go over to the place where Madame was holding a table for me. I’d been there just two weeks ago, but today the menu offered a three week special: a love affair with the lobster. Irresistible.
Next to me, two women were doing a perfect rendition of multi-tasking: savoring the food, the wine, speaking in animated tones and puffing away at their cigarettes. I do not want to exalt smoking of course, but I so completely associate restaurants with smoking in France that I will feel a layer of sensations will be erased the day the last stub is crushed into an ash tray and France becomes smoke free.
Next to me, two women were doing a perfect rendition of multi-tasking: savoring the food, the wine, speaking in animated tones and puffing away at their cigarettes. I do not want to exalt smoking of course, but I so completely associate restaurants with smoking in France that I will feel a layer of sensations will be erased the day the last stub is crushed into an ash tray and France becomes smoke free.
Much later, when the skies turned dark from both the evening light and the puffed up rain clouds, I go over to the place where Madame was holding a table for me. I’d been there just two weeks ago, but today the menu offered a three week special: a love affair with the lobster. Irresistible.
Next to me, two women were doing a perfect rendition of multi-tasking: savoring the food, the wine, speaking in animated tones and puffing away at their cigarettes. I do not want to exalt smoking of course, but I so completely associate restaurants with smoking in France that I will feel a layer of sensations will be erased the day the last stub is crushed into an ash tray and France becomes smoke free.
Next to me, two women were doing a perfect rendition of multi-tasking: savoring the food, the wine, speaking in animated tones and puffing away at their cigarettes. I do not want to exalt smoking of course, but I so completely associate restaurants with smoking in France that I will feel a layer of sensations will be erased the day the last stub is crushed into an ash tray and France becomes smoke free.
The women have left, and now I get to listen to the conversation of this man. He has the most gorgeous blue silk jacket – I cannot take my eyes off of it. He is there with a younger man – someone who is so good looking that I cannot take a photo without appearing like somewhat of a crazed woman. It was hard enough accomplishing this one photo, but the jacket and its owner just had to be recorded here. Ocean does not avoid the tougher challenges.
The women have left, and now I get to listen to the conversation of this man. He has the most gorgeous blue silk jacket – I cannot take my eyes off of it. He is there with a younger man – someone who is so good looking that I cannot take a photo without appearing like somewhat of a crazed woman. It was hard enough accomplishing this one photo, but the jacket and its owner just had to be recorded here. Ocean does not avoid the tougher challenges.
As I end the meal, my waiter asks me if I am from Quebec (the lobster celebration is actually in honor of these same lobster days in Quebec). It must be in the way I lick the last drops of sauce off the plate – I imagine people from Quebec are equally dedicated to finishing every bit of their lobster meal. When I say that I am in fact American, he actually puts the dishes down and does an exaggerated double take, before breaking into a smile at his own joke. Labels. They are of course both serviceable and at times grossly misplaced. In this case, the irony is that both countries use the same one when judging the other. ["All French are arrogant." "All Americans are arrogant."]
One of the best things about the last two weeks was that those traveling with me avoided bringing out the obvious labels in thinking about the countries we were in. Raking in experiences pure and simple, as they are presented, without reservation, without distrust. Liking some things, disliking others, based on how they felt then and there, rather than on how they were supposed to feel.
Okay, the end of the meal, and the end of the trip. Dessert: a simple ice cream, a caramelized mousse, and a farina cookie. With an espresso. Ocean returns tomorrow, from Madison.
One of the best things about the last two weeks was that those traveling with me avoided bringing out the obvious labels in thinking about the countries we were in. Raking in experiences pure and simple, as they are presented, without reservation, without distrust. Liking some things, disliking others, based on how they felt then and there, rather than on how they were supposed to feel.
Okay, the end of the meal, and the end of the trip. Dessert: a simple ice cream, a caramelized mousse, and a farina cookie. With an espresso. Ocean returns tomorrow, from Madison.
As I end the meal, my waiter asks me if I am from Quebec (the lobster celebration is actually in honor of these same lobster days in Quebec). It must be in the way I lick the last drops of sauce off the plate – I imagine people from Quebec are equally dedicated to finishing every bit of their lobster meal. When I say that I am in fact American, he actually puts the dishes down and does an exaggerated double take, before breaking into a smile at his own joke. Labels. They are of course both serviceable and at times grossly misplaced. In this case, the irony is that both countries use the same one when judging the other. ["All French are arrogant." "All Americans are arrogant."]
One of the best things about the last two weeks was that those traveling with me avoided bringing out the obvious labels in thinking about the countries we were in. Raking in experiences pure and simple, as they are presented, without reservation, without distrust. Liking some things, disliking others, based on how they felt then and there, rather than on how they were supposed to feel.
Okay, the end of the meal, and the end of the trip. Dessert: a simple ice cream, a caramelized mousse, and a farina cookie. With an espresso. Ocean returns tomorrow, from Madison.
One of the best things about the last two weeks was that those traveling with me avoided bringing out the obvious labels in thinking about the countries we were in. Raking in experiences pure and simple, as they are presented, without reservation, without distrust. Liking some things, disliking others, based on how they felt then and there, rather than on how they were supposed to feel.
Okay, the end of the meal, and the end of the trip. Dessert: a simple ice cream, a caramelized mousse, and a farina cookie. With an espresso. Ocean returns tomorrow, from Madison.
(From Paris): twenty four hours of walking, eating, watching others
It is always like this: I catch a noon flight out of Warsaw, spend the night in Paris, and catch the 1 pm next day to Chicago. I need the gradual transition that will allow me to reenter my life across the ocean.
Of course, this time Paris isn’t fresh for me. I had just been here, I had walked on rainy sidewalks with a broken umbrella or sometimes no umbrella at all. I had eaten crepes with melted cheeses and I had argued about who first discovered the blue and yellow Matisse painting at the Luxembourg Palace gallery.
Still, Paris always manages to rub its suave and sensual fingers along your spine and kick you into a wonderful state of awakedness. I had been speaking with a couple from the States on a train in Poland. They had moved to Europe (Switzerland at this point) in search of a balanced life and they love what they have created for themselves here. And they said – when we need to believe again in what we did, when we need to find excitement in our directions, we go for a few days to Paris.
Me too. And so I am here.
Can you tell? Even without a single tell-tale sight or street sign, this photo is a dead giveaway of where I am.
Of course, this time Paris isn’t fresh for me. I had just been here, I had walked on rainy sidewalks with a broken umbrella or sometimes no umbrella at all. I had eaten crepes with melted cheeses and I had argued about who first discovered the blue and yellow Matisse painting at the Luxembourg Palace gallery.
Still, Paris always manages to rub its suave and sensual fingers along your spine and kick you into a wonderful state of awakedness. I had been speaking with a couple from the States on a train in Poland. They had moved to Europe (Switzerland at this point) in search of a balanced life and they love what they have created for themselves here. And they said – when we need to believe again in what we did, when we need to find excitement in our directions, we go for a few days to Paris.
Me too. And so I am here.
Can you tell? Even without a single tell-tale sight or street sign, this photo is a dead giveaway of where I am.
(From Paris): twenty four hours of walking, eating, watching others
It is always like this: I catch a noon flight out of Warsaw, spend the night in Paris, and catch the 1 pm next day to Chicago. I need the gradual transition that will allow me to reenter my life across the ocean.
Of course, this time Paris isn’t fresh for me. I had just been here, I had walked on rainy sidewalks with a broken umbrella or sometimes no umbrella at all. I had eaten crepes with melted cheeses and I had argued about who first discovered the blue and yellow Matisse painting at the Luxembourg Palace gallery.
Still, Paris always manages to rub its suave and sensual fingers along your spine and kick you into a wonderful state of awakedness. I had been speaking with a couple from the States on a train in Poland. They had moved to Europe (Switzerland at this point) in search of a balanced life and they love what they have created for themselves here. And they said – when we need to believe again in what we did, when we need to find excitement in our directions, we go for a few days to Paris.
Me too. And so I am here.
Can you tell? Even without a single tell-tale sight or street sign, this photo is a dead giveaway of where I am.
Of course, this time Paris isn’t fresh for me. I had just been here, I had walked on rainy sidewalks with a broken umbrella or sometimes no umbrella at all. I had eaten crepes with melted cheeses and I had argued about who first discovered the blue and yellow Matisse painting at the Luxembourg Palace gallery.
Still, Paris always manages to rub its suave and sensual fingers along your spine and kick you into a wonderful state of awakedness. I had been speaking with a couple from the States on a train in Poland. They had moved to Europe (Switzerland at this point) in search of a balanced life and they love what they have created for themselves here. And they said – when we need to believe again in what we did, when we need to find excitement in our directions, we go for a few days to Paris.
Me too. And so I am here.
Can you tell? Even without a single tell-tale sight or street sign, this photo is a dead giveaway of where I am.
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