Archive | June, 2010

Life in the fast lane…

26 Jun

Mes amis, je suis vachement desolee, but i’m here, i’m writing, i’m alive.

What a week. I have been really sick with a virus that i think i must have had for several weeks, but motored through the worst of it all this week. Terrible timing, as Paris Fashion Week has started and so this week was spent not in bed but at work trying desperately to finish our collection (and draw it, and price it and sew buttons on to it) in time for the showroom opening (which was yesterday, and it is finished, and looks wonderful, hallelujah). On top of this, i also moved house this week. All very dure when you can’t keep any food down.

It was one of those weeks when things get so difficult that your mind drifts and you dream of a simple life in the provinces. One without the metro, where there is a husband who, while admittedly a little boring, works hard on the farm and then comes inside to light the fire and cook your meal. Days are free to lie in the sun, reading many books and the newspapers in full, while from time to time tending to the chickens, the vegie garden and the baking of pain d’epices, in various flavours, that you never fail to win an award for each year at the town fair.

Or maybe i have just been watching to many episodes of ‘L’amour est dans le pre’ (French ‘farmer wants a wife’). I think that might be the case. As i can’t really understand what anyone is saying, i just focus on the body language and the scenery and i probably imagine it’s much more exciting than it actually is.

So i have a whole weekend now to relax, recuperate and get myself back together. Tonight my sister returns from Greece for her last weekend in Paris, so it’s a pity that i am totally incapable of functioning like a normal member of society. It is so delightful not to have to do anything for a whole weekend, the thought of going out terrifies me! But, i will make a nice dinner tonight, and hope that makes up for my lack of social enthusiasm. I’ve just now returned from a short expodition down the Rue Mouffetard, where i bought some delicious tomatoes in various shapes and colours, with which i am still deciding whether to make a salad, or a tarte. The cherries look amazing at the moment too so i bought some of those, and a bagful of peche plate (flat peaches, delish).

It’s amazing how different buying fruit and vegetables is in France, compared to in Australia. We really have amazing fresh produce in Australia but the sheer variety and focus on quality here just completely outweighs the merit. This is embarrassing to admit, but i don’t think it ever even occured to me that produce was seasonal at home! I mean, i know of course that berries and melons etc are only for the summer, but because we import so many vegetables, you seem to be able to get whatever you want at any time. That is absolutely not the case here, and my taste buds are all the better off for it. The sheer delight of walking past a fruit stand in the sun here is a pleasure i never want to forget.

So once again, i end this week in the rollercoaster fashion of needing nothing more than to find a way out of the stress of this city, only to be lured back in with the delight that can offer, when you give yourself time to surrender to the pleasure.

And speaking of pleasure, i just ate my peche plate, and it was as delicious as i was hoping!



20 Jun

Sorry guys, i am totally sick with a stomach bug it’s the worst non alcohol induced stomach bug i’ve ever had. I am supposed to be moving house today (well, in actual fact, couch/bed surfing until the 1st July), but can’t, and our sales showroom for Paris Fashion Week starts on Friday. Officially the worst time to be sick.

At least i get the opportunity to wear my favourite ski chalet chic woolly cardi.

I promise i’ll write a real good post just as soon as feeling witty enough. hehe.

Now, back to the bathroom…

Open letter to my brain…

16 Jun

I’m sorry. I know that i’ve been doing some crazy shit lately and you are temporarily residing elsewhere me thinks. I don’t blame you so much, you’ve been working very hard and i’m very grateful. I’m sure a vacation would have looked like a nice escape.

But brain, if you’re out there, please come home! This morning, without you, i got up to make some coffee. I filled the little silver thinga-mi-gig (what’s it called again?), put it on the stove, but didn’t put any coffee in. I didn’t even realise until i poured everyone a nice, piping hot cup of dirty water.

Yesterday, i washed my hair, but i accidently used body wash instead of conditioner and it was super frizzy and weird looking all day.

There is more, but i’m scared if i tell you everything you wont ever come home.

I know im a bit of a handful sometimes, but i just don’t work without you.

I’m sorry for over analysing, and i’m sorry for reading too many trashy magazines.

I’ll be gentle i promise, just please come home.

Love me.


15 Jun

After the continuum of fateful occurrences that played out over the last month, i totally thought that when i saw the Frenchman again it was really meant to be. When he told me he wanted me back, I really thought that everything was just falling into place the way it should be. I think i had basically played out the whole rest of the year already, in my head (possibly even down to what we would eat for dinner one evening in September).

So now, not only do i feel like an idiot for trusting him again, but i also feel like i’m grieving for a relationship that never even eventuated, simply because it was so vivid in my mind.

So many stresses dissolved. But now they feel like they are back ten fold.

When it all unfolded, and he told me he wanted me back, it did feel like something was amiss. There was a disconnect happening that i could not put my finger on, yet really felt the presence of. It didn’t really seem to add up, but i am not going to play the jilted lover card and start suggesting the reasons why he might need to have some psychotherapy, 😉 , so i’ll put an end to this now! But i will say that i think it was less about him wanting me, and more about him wanting not to be alone.

It’s hard to imagine that this whole situation is not a punishment for a weak character. Perhaps for lacking the discipline to say no. In any case, it is what it is. And it’s over.

My best friend told me in an email just today that we all have a crazy, messed up relationship drama to go through at some stage, so i guess this is mine.

I’ve dodged a bullet, i understand that, but i’m just going to feel a little bit sorry for myself for a little bit longer. I am a Leo, after all.

And just to close, i should mention that the continued presence of Mr. No Name, like any good medicine, has definitely assisted in reducing the severity of my ailments.

So to speak 😉

Let the lesson begin…

7 Jun

Well, tonight i attended my first French class since high school.

I cannot believe how nervous i was, i felt like it was the first day at school all over again! I even, for a split second (split minute) thought about backing out. Can you believe it? A 28 year old woman afraid of a French lesson. Ridiculous.

I strode up the street, straight from work and my stomach was doing cartwheels. I didn’t have a notebook, so i stopped at the little paper stand on the corner of Richard Lenoir and payed far too much for one, but i was paying for the spared embarrassment of turning up to class without one, so i kind of justified that. Next i got some cash out to pay for the course and then pushed the little doorbell and trundled up the stairs.


First i had a test. There were three levels of teachers asking me questions, me responding very poorly, cheeks deepening in red with every word uttered, them talking amongst themselves, me not understanding a word but getting even more embarrassed until finally it looked like it was decided i would go with the male teacher.

I was relieved, and and a bit overjoyed i have to say, as he definitely seemed like the nicest one. I peaked over my shoulder and noticed they’d ticked the box marked T2. Through my highly astute powers of deduction, i could see i was in the medium class…hoorah!

I quickly realised however, that being spared the humiliation of the beginners class, did not spare me the humiliation of most definitely being the worst in the class!

The teacher was talking, en francais (il y a pas d’Anglais dans la classe!!), and everyone seemed to understand what he was saying. I can honestly say i had absolutely no idea what he was saying the entire class.

Embarrassing as this was, i could feel the tears welling up in the back of my eyes and i was screaming at myself to pull it together. Which i did, albeit under gross duress!

I left feeling like i’d had the wind knocked out of me. I strolled home the 500 metres, down the rue Oberkampf, really feeling very foreign.

Some days i feel like i own this city, but walking home, i was acutely aware of how far i have yet to go, and how little i have really come.

I don’t even like to admit this to myself, but if i’m honest, the only thing that brought me to sign up for that class was that i thought i would be back with the frenchman. I thought that learning his language was the right thing to do. I didn’t even do it for me and i’m so disappointed in myself for that.

But, at the end of the day, i guess it doesn’t matter so much how i got there.

I’m there, and i’m doing it.

And i’m so glad.

The lighter side of life…

3 Jun

There’s a new diet coke ad.

While i’m not going to be tempted to put even a mouthful of that crap in my mouth, i am going to take Bernadette’s advice.

The final chapter….

2 Jun

I’m just going to do this, and put it all out there for everyone to see.

Here is the final installment in this crazy, fateful saga. I’m sure you’ll all be happy to close the book at the end…

I didn’t contact you the last days and i’m so sorry for the consequences it had, the interrogations you formulated. I should have give you explications before. So sorry. I know this situation wasn’t confortable for you. So sorry.

First, i lost my mobile. The contract was to the name of my dad and i had to go in Tours to recuperate a SIM card.
I lost the most part of the numbers of my contacts.

The most important point. I was with a girl before you came back. We had broken because it was her intention. For me, i was free before to be again with you. She changed her mind and i just know that i steel care about her. It wasn’t my prevision and i was surprised about this situation. A bit lost.

I know that you was surprised about my attitude when i saw you at le café charbon. I really was sincere and i couldn’t imagine this conclusion. I’m so sorry because i didn’t have enough courage to explain you the situation and finally i wasn’t respectful. I’m so sorry.

I care about you.