Archive | May, 2010

Astrologically speaking…

31 May

My horoscope for this week….

You will be glad to see the back of Neptune in your opposite sign of Aquarius in 2012, as he has delivered messy situations in your personal life and slippery rivals, opponents or enemies. This cycle, which has been with you for over a decade, has taught you in stages. You will have these important life lessons to lean on over the next seven days, as you need to be sharper, clearer and far more practical about people who have a weak sense of identity, and a strong pull towards you – or your world. Past, present and potential partners may be the culprits, or perhaps there is a rat in the ranks. Remember that ‘No’ can be the most wonderful word in the English language. Use it and mean it.

The Frenchman’s horoscope for this week….

Watch yourself like a hawk at the moment. The clash between your ruler Neptune and Mars is a sharp reminder that you need to be aware of everything you do and say – particularly if it involves fooling other people, or worse, fooling yourself. If you know you have an addictive personality then try to pull back when you feel yourself tempted by situations, places, people or substances which involve losing yourself. There appear to be very few boundaries at the moment, and this is affecting your secrets, your role behind the scenes, your inner life or your time alone. Self-discipline is the answer, as you know too well. It’s a dull solution, but it works. Don’t risk what is so precious.

Totally whack?

I think so.


8 Euro Treasure

31 May


My first piece of furniture in France.

I love it!

Fool me once…

30 May

I haven’t written any updates about the Frenchman yet for the simple reason that there isn’t one.

An update that is. Though, one would not be mistaken for thinking that perhaps there is no Frenchman either.

It’s entirely MORE THAN possible that i have been taken for a fool.

Oh, i just wrote MORE THAN real big, which is funny because i just realised i’m listening to MORE THAN WORDS on my itunes. Bizarre.

Sorry, i’m drunk. My boss dragged my sorry ass out of bed this morning and took me down to the Marche Aligre, for wine. Wine before midday. (But i bought a really cute candelabra for 8 euros. That made me momentarily happy. But only for a moment (see previous post).)

So we continued drinking more wine at lunch, while making up stories about all the other people in the restaurant. It was Mother’s Day in France today, very cute seeing all the men taking out their moms.

It’s been 5 days and i’ve heard no word from the Frenchman. I know you are all falling over yourselves to say ‘i told you so’, but i just can’t believe it. I’m not a stupid person, how could i have been so blind? And how can one person have such an affect on you that they take all logic out of your reason.

I’m currently in a wine induced pit of despair, in bed at 4pm on a Sunday, slumped over my laptop, listening to Les Miserables and wishing Jean Valjean would come pick me up and carry me off to his factory and look after me.

If i was really silly, i would be concerned for his wellbeing, but i know better than that.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

Right. I’m off to take a sobering shower and get ready to face the world again tonight…

Lunch in Paris…

28 May

I’m a bit bored today, so i’m catching up on all the blogs that i normally read, but haven’t really had the time to do so of late.

Also, i’ll admit, i am supposed to be doing some French homework. Well, preliminary homework.

I’ve decided that it’s about time i started taking French classes (yes, i know, after how many months?!). So i have to hand in my ‘test de francais’ to see how bad i am at it and work out which one of the ‘crappy’ groups they need to assign me too.

Wow, a bit negative i know, but god it frustrates me that a) my natural aptitude for languages is pathetically low and b) that my ability to procrastinate is pathetically high. Not to mention c) my impatience and intolerance for being systematically bad at something.

But i digress. I am here to talk about what i am doing in order to AVOID doing my language test.

So, after scrolling the pages of David Lebovitz, committing the Summer Tomato Tarte to memory, i moved on to Lunch In Paris, the fabulous food blog by an American called Elizabeth Bard. The blog was the precursor to the even MORE fabulous book of the same name. Her food seems SO mouth wateringly simple and delicious that i constantly feel my anxiety building when reading it. I’m anxious that i’m lying here reading about it and not actually up in the kitchen and MAKING it!

I read her book while back in Australia recently, and i confess that i actually scanned some of the recipe pages from the book and saved them onto my computer. I didn’t need to scan the fennel and pomegranate salad though. Almost everyone i know in Australia will attest to that recipe being firmly committed to my memory. Sorry everyone if you had to eat that more times than you cared to, but boy it was delicious.

It was a great book, in the vein of ‘Almost French’, and now that i think about it, there were just SO many happenings in that book that i related so strongly to, being a foreigner in France.

One coming to mind immediately was the day that Elizabeth first stepped foot into her (then) boyfriend’s apartment and the amazement at all the relics left over from generations past. The silver teapot that ‘belonged to my grandfather’ made me think that she’d taken a photo of my mind the day i first stepped foot in ‘the Frenchman’s’ meticulously and nostalgically decorated apartment.

It helps me understand and appreciate so much more the shared experience, through literature or through connections, that make living in a foreign place bearable some days. The amount of blogs i read, of books i devour, all allow me to feel less alone. And at the same time, perhaps more connected to being alone too.

I understand now why people send me such similar emails, and make such similar comments on this blog. I GET it!

Anyway, enough sentimentality for one day huh!

Enjoy reading and eating Elizabeth.

My that sounded bad.

Take two.

Enjoy experiencing Paris with Elizabeth!!

Moments like these…

25 May

Do you ever find yourself in that moment when, despite the everyday craziness of life,  you just feel completely happy?

I do. Not often, and often they only last a few precious moments. (Like the moment you wake up in smiling ignorance, too hazy to realise you have a hangover the size of Australia)

But i’m having one right now.

I remember a conversation i had with my best friend, when we were traveling around Europe together. We talked about the idea of one day renting an little apartment in Paris. Just for a month, maybe two, and we would sit in that little old apartment, and on the terraces of cafes, me being a writer and her taking photos.

But it seemed a bit silly – an unimaginable dream at the time.

But now here i am, in this beautiful little apartment, eating my lentil salad all on my lonesome on a beautifully set table, next to the flower boxes on the open window sill, watching the rain, listening to the thunder, sipping my mineral water and writing. Yes, it’s just my dumb blog, but i am sitting here in my very own fantasy.

Half an hour ago i was doing my washing, miserable about work, having no money or something along those lines, but, just in that quiet moment, i had it all.

And the moment passes……

One night in heaven…

23 May

Last night i had the weirdest dream.

I dreamed that i was out at a bar, waiting for Mr No Name to arrive, but then i recieved a msg saying that  he wasn’t actually coming. When i put the phone down on the table, i looked up, and there, standing at the bar, looking straight at me, was ‘the frenchman’.

It was crazy. My body was tingling, my heart pumping even faster than the time i had arythmia, and i was shaking all over. I could hardly breathe. The dream was so vivid.

I can’t remember all the minor details, it’s a bit of a blur, but then suddenly we were outside on the pavement, saying goodbye. Goodbye turned into a kiss, and a kiss turned into a dinner invitation, and my bewildered expression turned into him telling me that he wants to be with me. Really, properly, to start a true relationship.

He said that he had to let me go back to Australia like that, that he couldn’t have been with me, not knowing if i would really return, but now that i am back for my own reasons, he knows it’s the right thing to do.

It was like all of my wildest dreams came true.

Except it wasn’t actually a dream.

It was completely true.

Two worlds collide…

23 May

I was at the Cafe Charbon, waiting to meet Mr No Name.

Mr No Name rang me to tell me he couldn’t make it.

I hung up the phone, i looked up, and there was ‘the Frenchman’ standing at the bar, looking at me.