I think fire alarms have issues with me. I have had nothing but trouble with them.
on our trip down south, the first hotel we were in, (in vienne, with the awesome british guy patron and the most excellent breakfast and the room where I sat on the window ledge with my feet on the roof and listened to my ipod), the fire alarm went off around midnight. it was weird, I almost didn't even recognize it as a fire alarm. it was ... not a fire.
then, the last hotel we were in, (in sarlat, the penthouse room with the painful carpet but the most wonderful ambiance and the old-fashioned key), it went off again. we were on the top floor and there are only two rooms up there and it was so sweltering hot that we (me allison and amy) were just chilling with our door open and some guy comes up the stairs and apparently he accidentally hit the fire alarm while looking for the light switch.
then, in my, I don't know what to call it ... house? apartment? room? well, residence jolimont, there was a fire in the trashcans and then a couple more times the fire alarm went off, I think it's hyper-sensitive now or something, or maybe people just need to stop smoking inside. then the other day, the alarm went off 3 or 4 times at night, around midnight, and went off 6 times throughout the night and early morning. all false alarms. I stopped getting up. they'd better fix it.
I don't know if I will ever take a fire alarm seriously again. this is worse than school fire drills.
6.30.2009
tittles
yesterday, while eating lunch in the park
(with some bum sitting on the bench next to me
and everyone else lighting up. I'm trying to eat here, people)
sometimes, people are difficult to talk to. they don't say much or respond much and I'm casting around for things to say and it sounds like so much meaningless air coming out of me. but still, whenever I've just plowed through an hour of me talking and them looking bored, they always seem surprised and a little disappointed when I say I have to go and want to know when I'm coming back. I guess it makes a difference, just being there. it's hard to know when to leave, though.
isn't it funny how you never know what random things about you are secretly grossing people out? and since whatever grosses someone out is sure to differ with every person, you never know. cause people are grossing me out all the time. maybe I'm the odd one out here ...
I don't want to spend the money, but I really need to get a cell phone. it's not very safe to not have one.
I want to visit mathias & drew in marseille, because it looks so bright and ethnic and full of character. and kryn was there. I want to see where kryn was.
it's kind of a blessing that every store I go into, nothing fits me right. the soldes are going on and I could be spending up a storm.
I think I'm compelled to write down all these little thoughts because I have no one to say them to and I need to communicate somehow, even if it's just this.
I think I always smell like cigarette smoke. I'm really tired of all the smoking.
there's a triangle of the back of my neck that's about 10 shades darker than all the rest of my body. because it's never seen the sun before, I suppose.
things about France:
- doors open and close the opposite direction
- crutches look like old people & cripple crutches instead of our under the arm kind
- there's dog poop everywhere. it's disgusting.
- leisurely bikers in the city
- trashcans are just bags, no cans
- birkenstocks are back, as are loose-fitting, long, bohemian clothes
- nastified creepy leerers are everywhere
- babies in strollers everywhere, as well as mothers & fathers w/ their kids
- also banks & ATMs everywhere
- women are always well-dressed, but neglect their hair
- the walk/don't walk of pedestrian crossings doesn't flash in warning. it just switches.
(with some bum sitting on the bench next to me
and everyone else lighting up. I'm trying to eat here, people)
sometimes, people are difficult to talk to. they don't say much or respond much and I'm casting around for things to say and it sounds like so much meaningless air coming out of me. but still, whenever I've just plowed through an hour of me talking and them looking bored, they always seem surprised and a little disappointed when I say I have to go and want to know when I'm coming back. I guess it makes a difference, just being there. it's hard to know when to leave, though.
isn't it funny how you never know what random things about you are secretly grossing people out? and since whatever grosses someone out is sure to differ with every person, you never know. cause people are grossing me out all the time. maybe I'm the odd one out here ...
I don't want to spend the money, but I really need to get a cell phone. it's not very safe to not have one.
I want to visit mathias & drew in marseille, because it looks so bright and ethnic and full of character. and kryn was there. I want to see where kryn was.
it's kind of a blessing that every store I go into, nothing fits me right. the soldes are going on and I could be spending up a storm.
I think I'm compelled to write down all these little thoughts because I have no one to say them to and I need to communicate somehow, even if it's just this.
I think I always smell like cigarette smoke. I'm really tired of all the smoking.
there's a triangle of the back of my neck that's about 10 shades darker than all the rest of my body. because it's never seen the sun before, I suppose.
things about France:
- doors open and close the opposite direction
- crutches look like old people & cripple crutches instead of our under the arm kind
- there's dog poop everywhere. it's disgusting.
- leisurely bikers in the city
- trashcans are just bags, no cans
- birkenstocks are back, as are loose-fitting, long, bohemian clothes
- nastified creepy leerers are everywhere
- babies in strollers everywhere, as well as mothers & fathers w/ their kids
- also banks & ATMs everywhere
- women are always well-dressed, but neglect their hair
- the walk/don't walk of pedestrian crossings doesn't flash in warning. it just switches.
jots
I find myself jotting down random things,
a running conversation with myself, if you will.
it makes me feel a little less silly if I share it with you,
so here is last sunday (the 21st)
it's kind of cold.
storm coming?
I can't understand the bus driver.
he speaks quickly & with a strange accent,
even though he's white & regular looking
... I don't know what he's saying.
I am a half hour early for church.
Note to Self: it does not take an hour to get here.
more like ten minutes, depending on when the bus leaves.
if I weren't wearing heels, I'd just walk it,
it's not that far from my house ...
it's a really nice church building -- I'm impressed.
I don't know why I'm suddenly afraid to speak French ...
now would be a good time to pray not to be shy & awkward
& not to be afraid. it's so much easier in a group.
sometimes I wonder how in the world
I'd ever be brave enough to be a missionary.
but sometimes I can be so brave. I don't get it.
It's about 20 til. I'm going to go in now.
gone are the days when I could count
the number of times I'd done the bise.
that's all we do at church is give the bise.
I like how natural it looks when it's done right.
I'm starving.
I think pretty much every woman in this ward has served a mission.
a running conversation with myself, if you will.
it makes me feel a little less silly if I share it with you,
so here is last sunday (the 21st)
it's kind of cold.
storm coming?
I can't understand the bus driver.
he speaks quickly & with a strange accent,
even though he's white & regular looking
... I don't know what he's saying.
I am a half hour early for church.
Note to Self: it does not take an hour to get here.
more like ten minutes, depending on when the bus leaves.
if I weren't wearing heels, I'd just walk it,
it's not that far from my house ...
it's a really nice church building -- I'm impressed.
I don't know why I'm suddenly afraid to speak French ...
now would be a good time to pray not to be shy & awkward
& not to be afraid. it's so much easier in a group.
sometimes I wonder how in the world
I'd ever be brave enough to be a missionary.
but sometimes I can be so brave. I don't get it.
It's about 20 til. I'm going to go in now.
gone are the days when I could count
the number of times I'd done the bise.
that's all we do at church is give the bise.
I like how natural it looks when it's done right.
I'm starving.
I think pretty much every woman in this ward has served a mission.
6.29.2009
it's not fall yet ...
Chanson d'Automne
by Paul Verlaine
Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langueur
Monotone.
Tout suffoquant
Et bleme quand
Sonne l'heure
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure;
Et je m'en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
De ça, de là,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.
by Paul Verlaine
Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langueur
Monotone.
Tout suffoquant
Et bleme quand
Sonne l'heure
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure;
Et je m'en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
De ça, de là,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.
words
some quotes from what I've been reading lately, Dubliners by Joyce and The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Berry.
"Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom ... My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires." (Araby)
"He was merely floating there in the room, insusbstantial, a living man in the midst of life, dying imperceptibly on his feet, like all of us."
"I felt I was in a condition of waiting, waiting for something unknown to replace the grace of being young. Of course I was young, very young, but as I remember it, no one is ever quite so old as a fifteen-year-old girl."
and here's the vocab I got from the two books. I haven't looked them up yet, though. I get them all in context, but I couldn't tell you what they mean. how many do you know?
truculent
sedulously
paltry
impinge
raillery
slatternly
timorous
venal
propinquity
titular
soutane
salubrious
sinecure
revenant
sere
inveigled
valency
concomitant
"Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom ... My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires." (Araby)
"He was merely floating there in the room, insusbstantial, a living man in the midst of life, dying imperceptibly on his feet, like all of us."
"I felt I was in a condition of waiting, waiting for something unknown to replace the grace of being young. Of course I was young, very young, but as I remember it, no one is ever quite so old as a fifteen-year-old girl."
and here's the vocab I got from the two books. I haven't looked them up yet, though. I get them all in context, but I couldn't tell you what they mean. how many do you know?
truculent
sedulously
paltry
impinge
raillery
slatternly
timorous
venal
propinquity
titular
soutane
salubrious
sinecure
revenant
sere
inveigled
valency
concomitant
6.22.2009
a snippet
I'm finding it hard to wake up these days
when the world I awake to is
a sea of faces
that I don't want to have to sift through
to find you.
morning thoughts
is this all that's left of me
when I die?
pages of thoughts
wishes and dreams
and not many actions
sparkling warm eyes with long lashes,
dancing fingers
and sweet-strained song
and bursting laughter -
they don't last long
underground
boxes of stuff that
I never used all that much
and are probably heavier
than the box that holds me
let's make a pyre instead
a snow-white, blue-lined bed
lay me on it and light her up
let's watch that beauty burn
when I die?
pages of thoughts
wishes and dreams
and not many actions
sparkling warm eyes with long lashes,
dancing fingers
and sweet-strained song
and bursting laughter -
they don't last long
underground
boxes of stuff that
I never used all that much
and are probably heavier
than the box that holds me
let's make a pyre instead
a snow-white, blue-lined bed
lay me on it and light her up
let's watch that beauty burn
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