The Bold Soul: A Writer's Life in Paris

If he keeps this up, I may actually start to LIKE having my picture taken

Georges has taken an interest in my Nikon D70 Digital SLR camera, even to the extent he wanted to read the book I bought a year ago (but of course have never made the time to read) to help me learn more about the camera. I've had the camera for about two years and absolutely love it, but there are still so many things I have not mastered that I used to be able to do easily with my old manual Nikon FG-20 film camera. This thing is so complicated with the fancy menus and dashboard and dozens of tiny buttons, that learning all the features feels a bit like learning to fly the flipping Space Shuttle. So I'm thrilled he is the kind of person who is interested in digging in deeper, because then he can just show me things, and I won't have to R.T.F.M.* He had fun experimenting with the camera over the weekend, and his youngest (and the neighbor's little boy, who came over to play) delighted in being the subject of most of Georges' photos. Picture lots of "action shots" of small children running back and forth across the room squealing with glee each time... Read more →

I enjoy eating Austria

Time for another Shameless Plug. This one is for the most excellent Parisian podcast brought to you by my friends, Katia and KylieMac. They are rapidly approaching their 100th episode (way to go, girls!), and already have a huge following. Join the K & K groupies (like me) and find out what an Australian and American think of their ex-pat lives here in Paris. They compare notes on their reactions to and experiences in living among the French, as well as on cultural differences from their respective homelands. And they have a helluva good time podcasting it all from their Coffeetable Studio, too! In Episode 95 you can find out what makes Katia say, en français, "I enjoy eating Austria". And don't sweat it if you don't actually have an iPod... you can listen to each episode using your web browser. Read more →

Trying on for size

It is a positively FRIGID Sunday in Paris. The day started earlier for me than usual, prompted by a 6-year-old creeping into the room, as he is wont to do on many mornings when he comes to awaken his Papa. For some minutes, all is quiet... then a pillow fight ensues, with much giggling and one small body climbing over the two larger ones. A bit later, as his Papa goes to start the morning coffee, the boy and I continue the pillow fight which turns into a little wrestling bataille. This is real progress... the first time the boy has wanted to engage me in a game, just the two of us. He goes to close the door, temporarily shutting out the world outside our game. Suddenly, I do not mind waking up so early. Eventually, it is time for breakfast. The boy's Papa informs me that the boy has decided he does not want to eat his usual cereal, sans lait comme il préfère -- no, today he wants to try Leeza's cereal, avec du lait, comme Leeza. This feels like a breakthrough... imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I am able to talk a bit more... Read more →

No one needs to see THAT

En route to the métro at Plaisance a few hours ago, an unwelcome sight: a man, on his feet but slightly staggering and definitely "unkempt", with his hand out and mumbling at me for spare change... and his pants unzipped and half falling off his derrière. I sometimes donate my spare coinage to people who clearly seem to need it, but I draw the line at sponsoring drunken flashers. If you want MY money, better keep it zipped, buddy. Ah, the "romance" of living in Paris... Read more →

The Frost is on the Punkin

It is officially COLD here in Paris. As I write this, it is around 34 F/1 C, and that is definitely FROID no matter how you look at it. You can see your breath when you're walking outside. The sunshine brings no warmth whatsoever. And for some reason the bus I took to get across town this morning wasn't running its chauffage, so it was even cold there. (But at least there WAS a bus, and I even managed to get a seat most of the way home, so it could have been much worse.) Meanwhile, the strike continues. Perfect weather (NOT!) to have to use a bike, rollerblades or your own two feet to get wherever you're going. Nothing is running consistently and it changes every hour so you can't depend on any particular bus or métro to be available when you want it. This is likely to continue into the early part of next week, at least, from what we're hearing. Maybe I will be sticking close to home this weekend, or only going places I can get to easily on a Vélib. Usually, walking warms me up, and I got in some good walking this morning, to... Read more →

Central loving

"Overheard" online: We find our lovers having their first IM chat of the day... Her: When you texted me with just "Ouf" this morning, I knew something wasn't right with you. I thought perhaps you got stuck walking to work in the cold, but glad you got a train. Is it very cold out today? Him: Chilly, yes. Her: It was chilly in bed last night. No YOU to hold me tight and keep me warm. I had to turn on the heater instead. [pause] Her: I feel lucky to have you in my life, you know. And not just because of your incredible body heat. Him: Oh thanks. Her: Your love is evident in everything you do and say. It just radiates from you, directly to me, all the time. Him: Ah? Her: Oui, c'est vrai. Him: I come with central loving, you know -- free of charge. Read more →

Strike Deux

Every new situation provides me with a chance to pick up a few new words in French. This week, it's the language of the French strike. We've got our second big transportation strike here in France within the past month, both of them a reaction by the transportation unions to proposed pension reforms by the Sarkozy government (for details, try here or here). The first strike, at least as it was felt here in Paris, was more of an annoyance for most people (OK, for some it was much more than an annoyance, I'm sure) and it only lasted a couple of days, each day getting a bit better. This one promises to be a bit worse -- le trafic est très fortement perturbé -- as the unions have declared it "unlimited". This means it could go on indefinitely but will most certainly last more than a day or two. Many fear a repeat of the huge 1995 strike that lasted weeks and crippled Chirac's government; that strike had more popular public support than this one does, however -- 55% are said to be against this strike. The RATP website, which normally provides really excellent tools like a point-to-point route... Read more →

Pajama day

Sometimes, you just need a pajama day: a day where you stay home, in your pajamas or most comfortable clothes, and putter around the house being completely non-productive. I've had a migraine today that I can't quite shake. Hence, still being in my pajamas at 7:53 pm. I am not even embarrassed to admit this. I think it's raining but I'm not sure... I never bothered opening the blinds or looking out the window all day. What I have "accomplished" on this Pajama Day: Got up to kiss mon amant goodbye as he headed off to his job. Had some tea and OJ. Checked email. Re-read an important client announcement I was preparing to send out. Went back to sleep at 10:30. Woke up at 1:30. At some leftover pasta from the dinner Georges cooked for me last night. Watched "Emma". Checked the client announcement one last time. Took deep breath. Sent it out. (I am "retiring" myself from web design after 15 years.) Now waiting for reactions from clients. Started updating my web sites to reflect this "retirement" status. Had short client meeting, able to finish a small writing job. Yay. Watched "Funny Face", enjoying images of what Paris... Read more →

And now for something completely different

I notice that love is affecting me in a rather bizarre manner. Last night, I did something I swore I'd NEVER, under any circumstances, do in a romantic relationship. COOK. For years, my grandmother and I have had a private joke: that I'd better find a man who cooks because I have staunchly maintained for years that "I do not cook: I re-heat". In truth, it is not that I CAN'T cook, it is more a combination of it just not being something I enjoy or that comes naturally to me, so I mainly choose NOT to cook. This, despite having once paid for and completed a cooking class at a local upscale supermarket chain that also hosts a cooking school. I had fun in that course and got some great recipes, none of which I ever prepared again after the class. And for years, my mother tried to guilt me -- to no avail -- into preparing just ONE Thanksgiving dinner, to which I have replied: "No thanks. I will never cook an entire Turkey." If I ever do get stuck (and I mean STUCK) preparing Thanksgiving, I'll get the turkey catered. Life is too short to have to... Read more →

Le Grand Cheval

Le Grand Cheval, Raymond Duchamp-Villon. Centre Pompidou. Read more →