mo' money, mo' problems

I feel like I've used this post title before, but I don't care.

Finally tried to call my bank in Paris to finalize this money bullcrap, but no dice. Phone card wouldn't work. Didn't want to talk to the lady who was such a b-word to me. Kuya came in after playing pool, and I asked him to call for me and he exclaimed, "I don't speak French!" Fine, fine.

Tomorrow might go biking at night in Hollywood with this group that does themed biking. Tomorrow's theme is "Pajamas" I think. I might do a whole Darjeeling thing and wear my Brooks Brothers pajama pants and a gray tank top or the top and shorts. I also have those sleeping masks that I'll wear around my hair like a hairband. Beige loafers will complete the ensemble. My blue Schwinn named Blue is ready to go. Kuya joked that maybe the Erics from Apple will be there. I nicknamed them Eric Oneapple and Eric Twoapple, Eric Twoapple being my favorite.

Pre-production is underway for the wedding film. This is probably my favorite part. All the planning and scheduling. I hope that I can get a hold of Final Cut Pro from someone at school so that I can skip the whole iMovie thing. Don't get me wrong, I love the simpliciy of iMovie, but why use that when I know and need to learn more about Final Cut. We'll see.

Thinking about the future again. Blurg. More and more people are telling me to cherish school and all that. Kuya offered to let me stay at his awesome condo in Northridge, close to all those movie studios after I graduate. He will rent me the master bedroom in the 4 bedroom mini-house for $800. That house is beautiful and a dream. There's a pool down the street, it's a bike ride away from the stores, and great surround sound system. Everything is contingent on me finding a job though in LA.

I kind of want to sell a lot of my stuff or just get rid of all this clutter in my room. Sometimes I see the stuff that I bought a while ago and go, "What was I thinking?" I no longer feel the need to buy, buy, buy. It all just complicates my life. I also come across stuff that I've saved and go, "Why did I keep this? Why was this important to me?" as I toss it in the trash. I think the best way to keep my memories is to just have a few of them, the few that will mean something to me later.

Wait, I kind of have an idea...

Are you interested in my memories? In my little keepsakes that I saved all throughout my year in Paris? I've gathered too much as you've noted. As a thank you for being my blog supporter throughout my year in Paris, I'd like to send you something. It might be a postcard I picked out, a museum stub, maybe a map of Paris I used to carry around. I've got brand tags from clothing I bought, metro stubs, receipts. I will mail you two or three things that I've chosen along with a written description of how I've come across them or a story about them.

If you're interested, email me your address (I will be extremely confidential, no worries) at thiscozyskull (at) gmail dot com. And if you don't like what I sent you, then at least you'd have a nice handwritten letter in fountain pen by me!

I'm melting

Back in sweltering Paris after stopping off at Nevers to see the preserved body of St. Bernadette. Got into Caulfield mode or the "Caulfield Effect" as I'd like to call it. Sometimes I refer to it as that when something vulgar happens in front of kids and I want to protect them or when something is desecrated. Today, this group of tourists that came in on a bus from somewhere walked into the church where her body was held and one guy, and there was a HUGE sign saying not to, started filming and taking photos. I've never felt so violently ill or moved in a sacred place. Honestly, that deep, dark side of me that I never speak or write of publicly usually wanted to take that camera far from that place and all those people and smash it to the ground. You just don't do that type of stuff at a church.

Anyway, drove back into Paris, and it's so hot here! Thought I left the heat in Spain. Bid farewell to Mom and Dad--I will see them back in the States. Bought some wine and brought it over to Micefa, my favorite one that's sweet a bit and good chilled. Then made an appointment to close my account. Felt so disgusting because I was sweating from running all over and the heat, and the guy that helped me was really cute but a bit of a douchebag.

Met Melissa and Susie and Mel's bf Cedric came home and we had dinner together: salad and pizza. Yum! Then we saw In Bruges at my cinema--my last film there! It was not bad. Made me want to see Bruges. Then got drinks to cool ourselves off since the cinema is under construction and there was no air conditioning. Got home pretty late.

I really can't wrap my head around leaving and packing. I almost just want it to happen already so I don't have to think about what I'm missing. But it was a good run, and after visiting so many different cities and countries, I know that there's still more I have to discover and experience. I've always got tired of routines. They were safe and comfortable for a while, but it's good to explore and constantly challenge yourself. I hope that I can accomplish that next year like I did this one.

bikenight

The hard reality of leaving hit me last night.Small get together for Lucia and Kathy leaving. Good food, good people, and my small studio. Lots of wine and beer consumed and then...bikes.

I feel safer nightbiking here since there's less cars. Me, Lucia, Kathy, Susie, and Susie's bf Andy, and Melissa got Velibs and biked to St. Michel (then said bye to Melissa), then Notre Dame, then along the Seine ending at the Louvre. Beautiful at night. Stood around taking pics and talking by the main pyramid until the guard told us to leave around 1 am. We split ways there, knowing full well that we might not see each other until we get back to SF. But it felt like any other goodbye but with a little bit of sadness to it. Lucia and I biked up rue Monge then turned to my street. I've always wanted to bike down my street at night.

After returning the bikes, Lucia and I parted ways saying, "See you in LA." It felt so weird to say that. See you in LA. Do I really have to go "home"? Is this really happening?

I've been spending my days writing in cafés and people watching, enjoying my quartier which has been a cinematic dream to live in, everything I have ever wanted and more. I don't think anything will ever top this. And yet I want to believe that I could have it this good again.

Tomorrow morning, I see my parents.

spring breakish

I feel like I'm on vacation. Two classes are canceled this week, and today's my first class of the week, and it's already Wednesday. Awesomeness.

On Monday, I took Stacy to the Champs to see the Arc de Triomphe. Then I got freaking lost trying to find line 2 in the labyrinth that is Charles de Gaulle Etoile station. I took a wrong turn and took us in a circle. Not one of my finest moments. We finally got to Montmartre, had late lunch, and Susie met up with us at Sacre Coeur. Then we got some coffee, took Stacy to Pigalle, and head home.

Yesterday, took Stacy shopping around rue de Rivoli. She wanted a new wardrobe and was willing to drop up to 500 euros. I think every girl that comes here believes Paris to be shopping mecca, but only if you've got the bucks. She got a dress and 3 cardigans at H&M, but didn't see anything else she fancied. I got a cardigan too and some tank tops for my upcoming spring break trip.

Took her to Angelina for the best hot chocolate in the world. We were looking at our purchases at the table, and one of the higher up guys (he was wearing a suit, and didn't look like a waiter) came by and said, "C'est superbe!" and smiled at us, and Stacy got a kick out of that. He kept smiling whenever he passed us and that was nice. He must be thinking, "Oh you girl tourists and your shopping". Stacy loved the chocolate and millefeuille as well as the decor of the place. This lovely American family sat across from us, and asked Stacy, "Do they take long here to order?" And Stacy said, "Ask this girl, she knows this place!" And I said no, it should be okay. And the Dad was funny, he saw my dessert when it came and my hot chocolate, and I noticed his jaw dropping a bit in awe, and when the waiter came he motioned to me and said, "I'll have what she's having." It was a nice moment and made me feel good.

Went back to my hood and went to this bar that I've never been to, and got pints of Hoeegarden with slices of lemon, so good. The bar guys were really nice, one of them cute in a dork way, so I might go there occasionally. This was a big deal for Stacy since she's 20. Then we got champagne and wine at the supermarket so we can get smashed at my place. I went in the morning to get groceries while Stacy was getting ready and bought a crapload of cheese and dry sausage and crackers. So we had a little French soiree with Susie and watched videos on Youtube and made fun of the film Across the Universe which Stacy hates with a passion.

My friend Edward Appleby mentioned Paris For A Year at his online home Rushmore Academy the other day. Thanks Edward!

same deal

Stacy from SF is arriving tomorrow and will be here until Thursday. Then my best friend from grade school, Cher, and her little sis Char are coming the day after Stacy leaves and will be staying until the following Wednesday.

I'm going to be very busy for the next two weeks.

So blog posts will be sporadic at best. There's going to be a lot to see and do with my friends. All three have never left the states before. Stacy is really into going to the Cinematheque--I haven't even been yet which is ludicrous.

Just got back from the ballet with Barbara B. and Teresa. We saw "Caligula". My first ballet, pretty awesome. Seats were high up, but not bad for 18 euros. There was a part where this guy got killed, and he was just lying on the stage for a good 20 minutes while his friends danced all around him and played with his body for a bit to see if he was dead and danced around in the foreground again. I was thinking about how much it would suck to be that guy and not get enough dancing time.

Afterwards, we had coffee, and Barbara B. talked about her life--very interesting. I learned that she used to study method acting, knew two ballet dancer brothers that broke each other's feet so that they can dance better, and...other amazing stuff. Then we all split our ways. Teresa and I were going home while Barbara was going to some goth club.

I'm excited for tomorrow: Stacy's arriving, and my friend from high school, Jean, is also in town, and they wanted to get fondue tomorrow night. Will probably do that with Stacy. Lily invited people over for some authentic Mexican food, but since my high school friend who I haven't seen in at least 2 years is here for the weekend...that's more important. Sorry Lily! Thanks anyway. Plus, I had some kick ass Mexican food that Lucia made some weeks back when Catherine was here, and I never wrote about it. Keisha's mom came and brought all these ingredients: tortillas, beans, all this amazing stuff, and Lucia cooked. That was amazing. I don't really miss food that much except for how cheap it is.

Things to come!:
1. trip to Giverny
2. trip to Loire Valley
3. Wes Anderson tomorrow at FNAC!!!

my backpack has been to Greece

Went to see Darjeeling yesterday. Awesome. Loved it. More than The Life Aquatic even.

Has something ever come into your life and it just fits, it makes sense with everything that's happening in your life at that moment? That was Darjeeling for me. It was about travel and finding yourself and the journeys we take with the people we love. I don't think I'll ever forget sitting in that darkness between Lily and Susie and just laughing at some dialogue or something that looked especially hilarious and just being totally and utterly happy. And it's just so effing simple what it takes for me to be happy, being with friends at my favorite Parisian cinema watching a good film.

Susie went to Greece this past weekend. Every time I see a photo of Greece or see it in movies, I can never believe my eyes, it looks like some fantasy land where the gods party. What are those mortals doing there? Anyway, I let her use my backpack since she only had a school backpack but I thought that she might have an easier time trekking around with mine. So my backpack has been to Greece and I haven't which is hilarious to me.

Went to the Mayflower for the first time in a long time to meet up with Melissa, Susie, and Melissa's brother. Melissa and her brother were sightseeing in the area. David was working too, so it was nice seeing him again, and he asked how I was. Just little pleasantries. Got my framboise. Later he came by with some savory snacks, these Cheetos that tasted like pizza. So good! Then he gave me and Susie baseball caps with the Timmermans logo on it since we ordered framboises! Pretty sweet.

Before Darjeeling last night, I had some free time, so I decided to open up Paint and make a comparison between the balcony shots in Hotel Chevalier and the photo we took from our room next door to the room they shot in. Here's what I got:
Heck yes, isn't that freaking awesome?! You can see the brasserie and all that. Flipping sweet. I can't believe they filmed next door to our room. In the actual film, he says he's staying in room 403, but they really filmed in room 404. Our room was 403, and it wasn't like the room in the film, it was bigger. We looked at a floor plan of the 4th floor and found that the room they really filmed in was in 404, next door to ours.

There was a door in our room that led to the room that they filmed in, but of course it was locked. Catherine even said, "What if Wes Anderson stayed in this room. Wouldn't that make sense?!?! That he'd stay next door to the room that they'd film in?" We were probably drunk when we had this conversation.

I am a liar

Okay, so I do have time to blog. Catherine's flight's been delayed maybe 5 hours.

Last night was loads of fun, Keisha's boys invited us bowling. What's nice is that they're working guys (Adriano, Yannu, and Laurent), so they paid for everything--woot. The game, shoes, and our first two drinks. I'm usually not okay with that stuff, I'd like to put in my share, but I'm poor in Paris so why the hell not? We had champagne and then I got a kir cassis and then during the game a demi pèche which is blonde beer (Heineken) and peach syrup. Tastiness. The whole bowling thing felt like America, except for drinking alcohol right on the lane. It was also cosmic bowling which I haven't done before, so that was cool, and under 16s not allowed so it's like going to a club. A bowling club. Weird thing is that Kuya got back to me from Grandma's funeral, and he said all the cousins went bowling afterward.

The guys made a wager. Whoever lost would have to make dinner next time. So us girls, Lucia, Kiesha, Laura, and I would taunt them whenever they threw gutter balls: "T'as d'espace chez toi?" (Do you have space at your house?) Laurent kept saying he'll make couscous and that's it. Lucia won with 121. I sucked in second to last place, and Adriano kept giving me tips while bowling which was nice. In the end, Laura has to cook. But we'll help her out.

Debating about skipping class on Tuesday. It's wrong, but what feels even more wrong is leaving my friend who came all the way out here to see me, to leave her wandering the city alone. I haven't seen her since my birthday. Will think about it. I'm already turning a paper in late and skipping Friday's class because I'm off to London. I think if I have a legitimate excuse for skipping class like traveling or being with an out-of-towner, that I should be off the hook. Last semester, there were a couple of classes I skipped because I was sad and genuinely didn't feel like going, but it's better now. I feel better now thank you God.

blog break

LOVELY!Above is an engagement photo of Kuya and his girl. I like this one too since it's quintessential SF:I'm going to take a blogging break, if that's possible (you know how much I love blogging here), because Catherine is arriving tomorrow, and she's going to have all my attention, and I leave for London the same day she leaves Paris. My laptoppy took a dump last night, so I think it needs some rest. I think it has become self-aware because Kuya and I were discussing computers this past week.

Keisha's French guy friends asked if we wanted to go bowling, so I'm doing that tonight. Yay! The boys are hilarious too, so it'll be a fun time. Then I have to do a crapload of homework tomorrow morning before picking up Catherine and showing her around town.

So I'll be gone for a week or so. Enjoy life, read some books, watch some movies, listen to musics, visit museums, take up a new hobby or interest (I've recently been interested in calligraphy). That's an order. Here are some books, musics, and movies that I've enjoyed abroad:

Books:
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
The Watchmen by Alan Moore
The Moviegoer's Companion

Musics: (not that extensive)
Thrice's The Alchemy Index Vol. 1 and 2
Wax Tailor: French hip hop artist
Radiohead everything

Movies:
To Kill A Mockingbird (Gregory Peck)
College (Buster Keaton)
2001: A Space Odyssey
Barton Fink
Paris (might not be out yet in US, but check it when it comes)

Museums: (Here are some of my faves in LA)
Getty
LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art)
National History Museum of Los Angeles county
Norton Simon Museum of Art in Pasadena
Bowers Museum in Orange County

Be well! Will probably pop in for a few updates, but other than that take care! loveelaine

day 2: Rembrandt and not your average coffeehouse

DAY 2Lucia and I walked around waiting for Keisha to arrive. Went down a canal street with vendors selling tulips and all kinds of flowers. It was nice. Keisha arrived at Leidseplein, so we met up with her and took her stuff back to the room. We got falafel for lunch at Maoz--a falafel chain.

Walked to Amsterdam's history museum, then decided not to go inside, figured we really wanted to see the Rembrandt's and Van Gogh first before any history stuff. They had free maps of Amsterdam, so we got one. Went to Rembrandt's house and saw all his etchings. They re-did the house to make it look like what it looked like in his drawings and paintings. Two words: box bed. Coolest thing I've ever seen. Imagine going to sleep in a large wooden wardrobe. So cool.

Afterwards, we were pretty pooped from walking around, so we decided to find a coffeeshop. Not just any coffeeshop, a shop that also sells marijuana. Went to this souvenir shop where the girls are super nice and answered a lot of our questions, and they told us to go to the Bulldog.

The guard outside the coffeeshop stopped me and asked if I was 18, which was cool. I love it when that happens. I said yes and that I'll show him my i.d., but he let me in. We got coffees, then Keisha bought some...stuff, and Lucia bought a space cake.

I smoked. I'm not going to lie, and I'm not going to keep it from my blog. I was in Amsterdam, how could I not? I would never put myself in any danger, and I was with friends, one of them decided not to partake, and the hotel was down the street. I read all about it, got advice from friends who've smoked before, so I was well informed and I knew what I was doing. I have no regrets. I did it, I know what it's like now, and I don't think I'd do it again.

The sensation was interesting...I've never felt like that before. Sort of slow, kind of giggly. And I had weird thoughts that I vaguely remember mostly the paranoid kind. We were seated close together, and Keisha's knee was touch mine, and all I could think was, and this is going to sound ridiculous, but all I could think was, 'I have to move my leg. It is touching Keisha's. It's sort of warm. I'm warm. I have to move my leg or our legs will intersect. Our molecules and atoms will collide and mix. I won't know which ones are mine' I can't believe I remember this. Then I looked down, and they weren't touching anymore, our knees. But it felt like they were still touching! I remember also thinking, 'Don't forget this, Elaine. Write about this. Don't forget the atoms.'

It was kind of like my birthday in Las Vegas, for those of you who were there. Enjoyable, but something I'd never do again. We went back to the hotel sort of in a daze, and I laid down on the bed. I was strangely euphoric, and also very hungry. We watched tv for a while, all of us lying on the bed, and talked a lot about food, and how were we going to get some. I didn't feel too hot, and then I vomited in the bathroom.

I told Keisha and Lucia that they could eat without me, but if they could just bring me back some food. Neither of them wanted to eat out, so they said they'll go get pizza and drinks. They came back with Pizza Hut, which tasted AMAZING, Heinekens, and some soda. I downed the soda since I read in the Amsterdam guide book that sugar can help you feel better.

I know some people, much older people, who shall remain nameless, but said that they could totally see me smoking weed and being "artsy" and getting my ideas from it. But I didn't really get any ideas, other than the paranoid kind, and I'm already paranoid already, so it's something I don't really need. During the night, I kept hearing noises, scratching kind, and I kept on thinking it was mice. And I wondered if I was stoned, if this was the space cake kicking in because I heard it takes a while to kick in, and would it make me hear things? Then I went back to sleep. That morning, Lucia told me it was the people next door being loud, and there were no mice.

is there another way?

I'm just going to be completely effing honest right now, I don't care who reads this. I've advertised my blog enough on Facebook and wherever, I don't even care. In fact, I know a lot of you who are reading here are, drum roll please, in Paris. Which astounds me! I mean, I've been expecting a lot more hits from home, but most are you are Parisians. Anyway, here it goes. I'm gonna get shit for this, I know.

Isn't there another way to hang out that doesn't involve booze? Or spending obscene amounts of money on booze when we can take a plane somewhere and see something new together? I enjoy a pint of framboise. Hell, I had a pint of that stuff and a demi of Guinness (my first time, and I didn't finish it. Tastes like cold coffee) yesterday night because, you know, everyone seemed to be drinking and having a good time. And I wanted to be a part of that too. No one likes feeling left out.

But when the alcohol wears off and people drink more and more, the fun wears off too. It just kind of gets sad. It's interesting to sit with drunk people, they talk more and they reveal things that they wouldn't usually reveal in normal conversation, and I, truthfully, like being there for that, but it feels so wrong.

And you guys want to do this twice a week? You go on ahead and count me out. And don't give me that shit about how the Mayflower is up my street. I know where the Mayflower is. The bar can be across the street. I just don't feel like doing this anymore. I'd rather spend money on other things and watching people get wasted isn't fun, it's kind of sad. I love you guys, and you're all great people when you're not hitting the sauce, but it's the truth. Like I wrote somewhere before on this blog, I wish alcohol didn't bring us together.

Anyway, I'm not writing this to stop people from drinking and having fun in their own way. They can do whatever they want it's their money and bodies or whatever. But if you're wondering why you don't see me that often or why I won't come out tonight, this is why.

I can hear the hatred coming.

tea over boys?

God, I'm weird.

Was outside the Mayflower with Morgan, Nayo, and Kathy when this hottie from Australia overheard us talking English and said hello. We were chatting (mostly them, I'm just listening really) with this really hot Australian, and all I could think about was some tea. A nice hot cup of tea. Like, how good would some chamomile tea be right now? Really good. Like, better than talking to a hot Australian guy with his lovely accent.

So I left and went home. And I'm typing with some chamomile at my right.

How am I ever going to meet boys when I'd rather be drinking tea? It's so crazy, right? And this guy is really nice, not boring, and very patient with my friends since two out of four of us are roaring drunk. He'd answer their questions very nicely and all that and wouldn't even flinch at their cursing. I'm not drunk at all. I'm coherent and shy, and it's hard to get in a word when all your friends are just dominating this dude. They've done this before. They have guy experience. I don't know, I'm just not the type that's forward and all that. The guy, David, is on this world tour right now, just left London and talking about all the places he's been. Very interesting and cool guy, the kind of guy I'd be into since he's into traveling, and yet I'm sitting at home drinking my tea.

It's amusing to me what my priorities are.

Conversations are interesting. Just how they lead from topic to topic. Today, everyone asked me how London was and I was telling them what I did, and someone interjects with something, and then another one interjects with something, and then I can never go back to talking about London. It's just gone so far off course that I can't go back to it. That happened today, and it happens a lot to me. And I don't want to be the person that's all, "Anyway, as I was saying..." I don't know. It just sucks when that happens. And I'm not a very talkative person, but when I want to talk and I can't, it sucks.

That's why I write so much. That's why I blog. I'm not very conversationally dominant and when I want to talk, people don't want to listen they just want to talk too, and I'm thrown off track. Sometimes people...they don't even wait until you put the period on your sentence. They just go right on in, like pressing "Play" right after "Pause". You're not even done with your sentence, and they start a new paragraph or a new page. Sometimes you know that even while you're talking, they're just waiting for they're turn to speak.

Blurg. I can always count on blog to listen.

bisoued and bars

It's 1:30 am. Nayo, Nick and Morgan are still at the Mayflower drinking it up. Me, I'm a lightweight and just wanted to hang out, but came home since I was dang tired.

Like Kuya had described it, the Mayflower is the bar in "Cheers" or the coffee shop in "Friends". All familiar faces, nothing is awkward. David concocted a drink called "pink hair" because of Morgan's pink hair. I heard it was tasty. He bisoued us girls. It was nice. Then he made me re-bisou on the left cheek since it wasn't "good enough". Haha. Later, he made me his waitress, and I helped him serve a table.

It's nice to have reached this point of comfort. Goodnight.

wake up

Sometimes, all I have to do is open the window, listen to the accordions playing (my landlord is always outside playing his accordion on Sunday mornings) and just smell the roasted chickens and potatoes, the clementines and all the fruit and vegetables, all these smells collect and rise up to my third story studio, and it's enough to make me not want to eat because it smells so damn good when it all mixes together like that just the same way the table at Thanksgiving dinner smells damn good. But I eat anyway because breakfast is important.

Susie and Andy came over to hang out. I invited them along with Sally to see Buster Keaton's College at my fave cinema with live piano. It was amazing, as always. And I think I have a huge crush on the piano guy because he loves Buster Keaton too, and he has this sort of Buster Keaton way about him, an almost silent actor way about him in that he doesn't speak much but his little actions really resonate. Like he has this slight smile like he's holding in a laugh. And when the owner introduced him to the audience and said that he likes Buster Keaton films, he said, "Yes, I like them a lot." And, I don't know why, but that made me laugh a little. Anyway, the movie was great and Buster won the girl as always.

Afterwards, fondue dinner with everyone mentioned above and Sarah and Nayo on my street which was so good and filling. It's Andy's last night here which is so weird because it almost felt like he was studying abroad with us. I know Susie will be okay. Their relationship reminds me a lot about my brother and his fiancee because yes, they're great together, but they don't have to always be together, you know? They can handle having their own lives and sets of friends. And that's nice. Having someone but not being dependent on him and vice versa.

After dinner, bid farewell to Susie, Andy, and Sally, and Sarah, Nayo, and Nick met up with us and we had a drink at the Mayflower. It was a pretty chill night and we sat at a corner. I noticed on the wall an old black and white photo of what the Mayflower looked like in the 1920s or so, and it looked so cool. Just seeing what something used to look like. And I felt that I was a part of history somehow by making this my local drinking hole.

Had a pint then left, and I walked down my street and all the stores were boarded up and nothing was open except for the tiny cinema, and God it was so beautiful with the blue Christmas lights still on and flowing down the street. And I saw more because my focus was on the buildings rather than on the shops and I kept noticing all this graffiti I've never seen, and I could see into other people's apartments and their overflowing bookshelves and their Tudor ceiling that looks just like mine, and it was nice. And for a moment then I forgot about home and declining the TA position, and all I could think about was that in six months I'll be missing this and how devastating it's going to be.

new year clarity*

New Year's was...interesting to say the least. First...while getting ready to meet my friend, I couldn't find my wallet. I called her saying I don't think I'll be able to make it, I lost my wallet. Then I turned my studio upside down looking for it, tearing my bed apart, looking through last night's jacket's pockets. There was this rage inside me, like an assassin who's been double crossed by her handler, but I felt calm, composed. This can be fixed. The night before I had switched wallets, using my smaller one, because I didn't want to carry a purse, and I only put the bare essentials in it. A 20 euro bill, my carte bleue (atm), and my carte de sejour. All three can be replaced. It was a shit wallet anyway. Wallets shouldn't cost more than the money in them.

After looking in the last possible place, I stood in the middle of my tornado-hit studio, and went back to the jacket I wore the night before. In the effing SLEEVE of my jacket was my shit wallet. There's a lesson in this somewhere.

Was livid and sober the whole night at Kathy's who lives near the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysées. It was nice of her to open her home to us since she lives nearby the Tour Eiffel. I was having a good time, but I can easily see from the outside that it did not appear so. I was offered wine, rum and coke, but I only took some coffee. I didn't want to get shitfaced or anything, I just wanted to be awake enough to watch everyone else get drunk. People kept asking me if I was having a good time, and I said yes I'm just so happy I don't have to express it physically.

People were wondering where to go for New Years, Eiffel Tower or stay at the Champs? Without thinking, I said that I didn't care. Even if we didn't make it, it didn't matter to me. I could hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth, me of all people saying this with my list of things to do in Paris, my must-see-this, must-go-to-that. "But it's Paris!" they said. "But it's New Year's! How many times are you going to be in Paris for New Year's?" I said, you have a point. But in my head I still didn't care. This deranged psycho in my mind that has never made an appearance had this urge to destroy.

I wanted to miss it. I wanted us to be lost at the stroke of midnight, hearing the screams of celebration from far away, and seeing the highest reaches of the sparks of fireworks above dark and vacant buildings and never the whole, glorious explosion. I wanted to see disappointed faces and people make excuses. "We got lost", "we didn't leave early enough", "it's no big deal". But it would be a big deal to them.

I thought about this, staring intently at a rug as a plate of cheese was being passed around, and I felt a smile forming on my face.

I stepped into Kathy's hallway to get some air. Be cool. Don't go crazy. Don't make a scene. Fake everything if you have to (I couldn't). I didn't know what was wrong with me, and I hated myself for thinking these things. It could have been the rage I had at "losing" my wallet. It could have been the fact that I was reading Fight Club currently and Tyler Durden has poisoned my brain. Where did this source of destroying come from?

The wallet, the calm panic, the unimportance to me of doing something extravagant because it's New Years and it's Paris...this all meant something. And I'm still not totally clear what, even as I walked from the Marais to home this morning trying to think about what it meant, I can't grasp it all.

We made it though, even though our group got separated. We were at Trocadero with the full view of the Tour Eiffel, and without a countdown, at midnight, it sparkled bright and clear and fireworks went off, and that's how it should be--no countdown--ever since I was a kid I've hated the stupid countdown and everyone shouting 3, 2, 1, and it was as perfect as I had believed everyone had wanted. I was happy that everyone else was happy and that their night had not been ruined. Afterwards we waded through throngs of people, of police, we walked on the streets in front of cars because everyone else was doing it. We dodged tourists, shouted the bass line of White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army" 'cuz French teenagers loved that, and were in search of a bar. Kathy and I decided not join the trek for a bar so I went to her place after walking for an hour of seeing no bars or expensive ones and crashed there.

And at the end of the night, I no longer cared about perfection, about being complete. About crossing of my list of things to do in Paris. Being here is more than that, goes beyond that. I didn't even bring my camera to Trocadero to document it all. I was there; it happened. I saw it with my own eyes. I no longer felt that I should have evidence to show people back home, to boast in their faces, "See what I did? See that?" That wasn't important anymore. It should not have been.

But this, this post, this blog, the act of writing (or typing), the hour or so I spend a day my fingers pounding on the keys or my pen on paper, that's important. Has always been since the beginning, and it was always for me and never for you, although I know you want to think it's for you. This won't stop. You will always find me here.

[*NOTE: Posting this post might have repercussions, but it's the truth, and I care about the truth. And if you were there last night, now you know what was up with me.]

warm coziness and Christmas already

This weekend totally made up for my crappy Friday. Was walking back to Gare du Nord from having dinner with Susie, Sarah, Nayomee, Kristin, and Steven, and my tummy felt so full from the tasty Indian food. The weather was really crappy today. Rain and very windy. And I love weather like this sometimes, except when the water has soaked through your shoes and into your socks. Yuck. Was thinking about the warm coziness of my studio waiting for me. Sitting at my windowsill in my pajamas and blogging on the laptoppy with a cup of tea at my right. Lovely. Then SPLASH! My right foot sinks into this disgusting puddle of water. No worries, I'm home now. My shoes are drying by the heater, and I'm doing the aforementioned daydream.

Yesterday was a blast, had some friends over for a study group. Our exam is tomorrow. 50% of our grade! Insane. The group was really helpful. Then went out to meet up with some peoples for Kathy's birthday. She's 20! Morgan led us to a bar lounge in the Centre Pompidou area. Totally cool since happy hour is till 11. Unlike the bars in the St. Michel area, this one wasn't crowded. We had this corner to ourselves and sat on these low comfy couches. There were red filters on all the lights, so everything was red. Had two drinks then went home while the others went to the Mayflower.Christmas is everywhere! Went to the first week of Advent mass. They even put up and lit the Christmas lights on my street. It's really pretty, I'll take a photo when it's not raining. I wish my place was more Christmasified, just a little, because it always seems like spring or summer in my studio just 'cuz there's a lot of blue and yellow, and it's nautical themed. I don't want a tree or anything, just some red and green somewhere. Am going to Ikea with Kathy and others for some chaotic fun and 1 euro breakfast. So I might see a little something there that'll make my place feel a little more like Christmas

Also, had a chocolate macaroon for the first time the other day and it was DELICIOUS! I'm trying not to visit the patisserie too much, but I really wanted it. It's like a brownie that's dense on the inside and crispy on the outside.

one of those days

Did you ever have one of those days when you have no clue what's going to happen and where it's going to take you? Yeah, one of those days today. I knew I had to meet one of my groups for a project, but that was about it.

Was supposed to go to a birthday party for a French friend of a friend, but the group thing got in the way. Also the French girl said something to me at Thanksgiving that sort of pissed me off or just rubbed me the wrong way, but I don't want to write about that, I want to write about happy things. Why go to a party when I know I'm going to be unhappy and, as another friend put it, it'll just be "work"? Yeah, I don't want to work on the weekends.

On a whim, went to the Jardin du Luxem again to read Me Talk Pretty One Day. It's a nice place to read. Read for an hour when I get a call from Susie asking me what I'm doing. I say I'm at the park and she and Nayommee are at the park too! Whoa! Met up with them. Nayommee had a list of stuff she wants to do in Paris, but it was all "night" stuff, so we decided to do one of the food stuffs and it was fondue. Got a crepe at St. Michel then met back at my quartier with Sarah to find a fondue place.

We changed our minds and got Indian food instead--bad idea. This place was such a tourist trap. If we ever want bomb Indian food, we're going to the Gare du Nord area. This place was effing awful, and we were all just half-pissed half-laughing at our situation. God I love moments like these. Everything funny about it almost makes the awfulness unbearable. Susie sat facing the front door, and whenever a tourist walked by to look at the menu, she'd shake her head in warning, "Don't come in! Don't come in!" It was hilarious. We talked about puking at the doorstep or throwing red paint on the front door or just running out before they bring the check.

Afterwards, I was convinced to not be a hermit and go to La Fleche D'Or, a venue where you can watch bands play for free. For FREE! Susie convinced me that some good bands were going and Sarah came too. Oh. Gawd. I'm so glad I went. I'm not the kind of person who sees bands live often. I went to Warped Tour once and to Thrice shows every time they put out a new album. But seeing bands I don't know is not really my thing. I am so thankful that Susie and Sarah got me to go. We got there during the set of this UK band The Mules, and they rocked my socks off. They reminded me of Squirrel Nut Zippers, if they had kids my age. The drummer/singer (awesome!) looked like a Swing Kid, specifically the Swing Kid that was also in Dead Poets Society. And they had an Asian girl violinist. Sweetness. Wanted to get a cd after the last band's set, but they already packed them. Susie's going to try it find it at a store.
Then stayed a little bit for the last band, which was French. But the singer was ridiculous. Sarah said, "I don't take a man who wears pointy shoes seriously." He was also wearing really tight pants. I was in the front, and once while he sang he was looking at me, and I just looked away. Too uncomfortable and weird. Has someone ever looked at you while he sang? It's just weird. I said to Susie and Sarah, "He looked at me while he was singing!" and feigned a teeny-bopper sort of happiness, and then Susie asked me something dirty (but funny in a joking way) which I will not repeat here that prompted me to laugh and yell, "Shut up!" We left before their set ended.

All in all, a great night. Really glad I wasn't a hermit tonight. Check out this band, The Mules! I took some video:

things happen for a reason and pre-thanksgiving

I smell like cigarette smoke. I'm pretty sure I've been smelling like cigarette smoke for a while, but I've been noticing it now. It doesn't bother me.

Woke up today with no real sense of purpose. Again, no class and apparently no class until further notice (that's what I got in an email). Around 13h (I'm so used to the military time here, you're just going to have to get used to it), I decided to go to my favorite, the Jardin du Luxembourg, to write in my journal. Yes, I keep another journal totally separate (and private) from this one. Lately, this blog has been getting most of the attention. I wanted to write about some changes I'd like to make in my life. Sort of like a list of New Year's resolutions.

As I head out the door, I get a call from Romina saying she's just outside, her class got cancelled would I like to get some food? I took it as a sign that maybe this list can wait. There was so much to think about. Up my street, we got some food then we walked to the Jardin to hang out and talk. She lost her map of Paris, so we went to Gibert Jeune on St. Michel. Then we spent, it felt like close to an hour, at Shakespeare and Co. looking at books. God, I love bookstores. Especially when they're old and a bit disorganized because you end up finding something you weren't looking for in the first place. I was looking for Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. They had it, but I couldn't find it. What's so weird is that I met a guy at the pre-Thanksgiving thing that Micefa threw tonight that bought this book! And he said I could have it. I love it when these things happen. He said he'll bring it to Steven and Sara's Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.

Before going to the Micefa thing at a café, I took Romina to my bar to get a framboise. She's never had one, and she liked it! Success! Then we headed to the thing, which was pretty cool. The first round of drinks was on Micefa, and I got a 1/2 peche, which is Stella or some other blond beer and peach stuff. Barbara and Topher brought snacks. Don't know why, but I was in such a weird mood. A huge sorry to anyone who sensed it. There's just a lot on my mind.

so cold

There's nothing more lovelier right now than walking into my warm, cozy studio from the freezing rain and cold. It's 45 degrees F. I grew up in southern California. That's cold to me. And it's only going to get colder. Bring it on. My body is getting used to it. I've been fighting this cold that's there and not there at the same time. But drinking lots and lots of tea has really helped. I love sitting at my window looking out onto the street and drinking my tea in the morning. I will never have this ever again. I'm also convinced that drinking tea is keeping my face relatively zit free. Yay!

So, with this cold, and my lack of winter clothes, I've been bundling up with layers of clothing. It's almost become a ritual. Tights under the pants. Knee-high socks over the tights. Long sleeve and short sleeve. Sweater and jacket. Scarf and beanie, then gloves. The parentals insist that I buy some sort of coat until my friend visits and brings my wool coat. I have decided on a long parka with a hood. I already have a wool coat and a jacket, but I don't have a long parka.

Braved the cold again with Kristin to meet Susie, her boyfriend Andy, Melissa, Alan, Taylor, Nayommee, and Sarah at this bar Shywawa at St. Michel. I almost didn't go just because I was about to log and capture clips from the Normandy trip to edit, but I decided to not be a hermit and to get a beer. I got a beer cocktail called a Monaco. It's Stella, limonade (like 7-up), and grenadine. It was tasty. I used to feel bad about drinking alcohol just because it's a lot of calories, but I made this rule that for every alcoholic drink I have, I have to drink a cup of tea. On top of my morning, afternoon (if possible), and evening tea, that's a LOT of tea. But I don't mind. I love tea.

It was a grand old time. I never used to go to bars even in SF. I just felt that was such an adult thing, and I've always felt intimidated going into one. Now, I really love it. It's really cute seeing Susie with her Andy. They're so great together. It's nice that they're handling this being away for a year thing well. Being around them made me miss hanging out with my Kuya and his now fiancée. Sometimes being with couples and being the single one can be either really cool or totally effing annoying, especially if your friend is different around her boyfriend. Luckily, that happens rarely.

I like what couples have, and I love the idea of relationships and commitment, but I also really like this independent Jane Eyre thing I got going on. And I didn't think I'd be like this, but I think I'd like to do this for a while, this independent thing until I'm finished with school. I thought I was independent in SF, but Paris just took it to a whole, new level, and I like it, I really do.

the beaujolais nouveau

One of the most loveliest Parisien nights ever. Just got back from the Le Saint-Médard across the street to welcome the arrival of the Beaujolais Nouveau, a nice, simple red wine from the Beaujolais region. My lovely landlord invited me and played live music too! He's so great. I think he knows how shy and hermit-like I am. But he really insisted that I come. We were talking on the stairwell and he was all, "Please, if you can, join us! It's just across the street! But if not, that's okay..." He's so sweet!!

Invited bunches of people, but it's kind of hard when there's a metro strike going on. Luckily, Kristin and Keisha made it since they don't live far. Walked in, and Landlord Chris was playing his accordion and singing in the corner. We couldn't find a place to sit so we went upstairs. Keisha got frites, Kristin got a café-crème, and I got a café noisette and a nutella crèpe. We also got a small bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau to share later.

This place is absolutely gorgeous. Dark wood tables and chairs, and pinkish wallpaper. Very warm and cozy. We talked about how amazing Paris is, how lucky we are, how fast everything is going. Our convo ranged from fashion to French dogs. It felt so good to be young and in Paris. Keisha was saying how amazing this experience was, how no one will ever understand what this year will mean to us except ourselves. It was lovely, just talking and taking our time in between bites of crèpe and sips of wine. It was great and so un-American. Back home, we're used to gulping our food, never really savoring it. The wine was also great: simple and light. This older woman behind us heard us talking, and she spoke English and asked us what we were studying. She was really sweet and even took our picture for us. She told us how her daughter studied abroad just for 6 months but that the experience changed her like no other. We asked her what she did, and she's a film scholar! She said she does research. She told us about her kids who are also in the film industry in New York. What a world. God never ceases to remind me about film. He even sits a Canadian film scholar behind me at my local bistro.

When it died down, we went downstairs. I said hi to my landlord as he was playing a song. We sat down to listen to the music, and this lady handed out sheets so we could sing along. Old-school karaoke. We stayed for 6 songs, then parted ways. I waved goodbye to my landlord before I left. God I love my quartier. I think I should go to that bistro at least once a week for coffee until they know me.

karaoke at Pigalle

You've never really lived in a city until you visited some of its seedy parts. Back in LA, Dad would take Kuya and I to "bad" (really just poor) parts of town to get really good Mexican food or soul food. Yum. Oh man can you believe I haven't had any Mexican food for over 2 months? Anyway, Pigalle, in the 18eme, is pretty seedy (yet touristy) with its sex shops and cinemas, but what we girls came for was the karaoke.

Met up with Kristin, Lucia, Kathy, Suzie, Romina, Nayommee, Morgan, and Sarah at a karaoke bar. We all got our own drinks in addition to a meter long row of tequila shots. Had one shot myself. Learned to do that thing, that thing that D.B. Sweeney and that other girl did in the film Cutting Edge. First you lick your hand, put some salt on it, lick off the salt, take the shot, then suck a lemon slice. It was my first time doing that, and it was fun.

We didn't get to sing our songs cuz we left early. Kristin and I were going to sing "Love Fool" by the Cardigans. But we had some fun, there were some fellow English speakers who picked some English songs, "YMCA" and "It's Raining Men", so we sang along with them. The French people who were there picked these really sad, slow French songs. It was depressing. When you're doing karaoke, you can't do that stuff! Anyway, it was good times, and I'm glad we got to continue celebrating Lucia's 21st birthday.

It never really occurred to me until now how weird it is to spend a birthday, especially a 21st birthday, abroad and away from close family and friends. I hope Lucia had a great time with us. I'm glad we all have each other to look after. I'm going to be spending my birthday abroad as well, and I can't think of a better group of people to spend it with.

Called Dad to wish him a happy birthday this weekend. It's nice talking on the phone but it's no substitute to talking in real person. It's weird how we can carry on a conversation even if we're not physically together. You would think, being so far away, there'd be some sort of gap of silence because the sounds of the words we speak have to travel so far. Technology is amazing, but some things are better the old-fashioned way.