Sunday, February 23, 2014

parc monceau

the sun's coming up more.
runners are running.
children are playing.
dogs are wagging their tails.
sundays in the parc with my lil boo. 

it's very uncouth to take pictures of people, especially their littles, but i couldn't resist sneaking one of the precious lil girl behind me, spinning in circles with a flower crown.  

so many treasures that i just don't understand

sweet kiddies squealing on the carrousel 


i don't post all the gorgeous and fun street art i stumble upon like lil treasures,
but since being in paris,
i've collected 20 snaps of space invader to date.
such a fun lil collection seemed noteworthy. 
some are humongous & some are teenie tiny.
i love them!

Saturday, February 15, 2014

en cas de coup de foudre: smash face.

valentines and pattern drafting.

i've never been a valentine lover or hater,
pretty indifferent about the holiday.
back home it's all huge stuffed animals and overpriced roses.
i've had three notable ones (one of which was wonderful and romantic), and now a fourth i suppose, though all for different reasons.
in the fourth grade, i gave a boy a valentine to tell him i liked him.
he had brought the girl next to me chocolates and a teddy bear.
his response to my palm sweaty proclamation of 9yr old love:
erasing (poorly) a valentine from someone else in our class,
and writing my name on it instead.

the city of love.
i had class until 7pm.
young lovers were excited about celebrating in paris,
going to the champagne bar on top of the eiffel or paying a ridiculous amount for bottle service to get into some swanky club.
everyone else was having some sort of 'ladies night'.
my plans included: walking oliver in the rain and getting chinese take out.
the only thing that had interested me was a colette event that ended 30 minutes before i was even out of class.
a friend of mine asked if they even celebrate valentines day here.
my response: it's paris.
this year, the flower council of holland installed 1,500 roses all over the city that looked like fireboxes, 'in case of a love emergency' 
it was actually grandly romantic.

you can read the full story/watch the lil video clip here.

in pattern drafting we mentioned this to our teacher. 
she's excitable and even though likely in her 60s,
gets giddy like a school girl over stuff like this.
halfway through class, she was analyzing my cap height and armhole depth on a jacket pattern construction, and it was off by a couple of millimeters.
neither of us could figure out why.

"what's wrong with your pattern?" she says to herself as she looks it over.
-other student says something unrelated in french, she responds back-
turning back to me she says, "why don't you speak french?"
followed by a toxic string of questions that went like this:
don't you have any french friends?
why don't you go out and meet some?
why don't you just go out in general?
why don't you have a boyfriend?
if you just want friends, why don't you go to the gay club?
or the lesbian clubs?
have you heard of *(lists several websites that i should immediately sign up for apparently)?
why don't you go to the french kissing event tonight at colette and get some action? (because it's during your class & it's not going to be people just standing around kissing each other)
i know- you should just wait in front of one of those flower boxes! 

there are 6 people in that class.
yeesh lady.
any other uplifting things you'd like to talk about on valentines day?
one of my dog's died of bone cancer & my parents got divorced when i was 16, should we bring that up while we're at it?
here's an idea, we can talk about my pattern & you can mind your own gdmf business.
i of course didn't say any of that, and instead said, 'i don't really have time to go out, and i'm not really attracted to french guys, plus i'm learning french, can we talk about my sleeve?'
the sweet girl next to me responds to my silence to our teacher's questions with,
"i'm having a girls night later if you want to come.."
i'm pretty sure everyone else was just glad they weren't on the other side of her question rant.
the next morning we had a make-up class, for a different class.
4 of the 9 people showed up.
1 hadn't gone to bed yet (at 11am)
1 was still drunk
1 brutally hungover
the teacher was an hour late
and i was feeling pretty good about my chinese take-out.

hapy loveday, lovahs- from paris.


thursday morning.
french is my only class of the day.
it's at 9am.
it's not the easiest to get up and go in the dark, rainy months of Paris.
but i'm a committed student ;) 
this thursday, got up, out of coffee, must settle for the gross machine 0,50€ espresso at school.
espresso machine, broken.
go to french with my water bottle, tired and hungry.
this is gonna be a lonnnnng hour and a half. 
my teacher is excellent and tries to teach us in all different ways.
today we are learning french history and reading aloud.
one person, one sentence. 
things like: mayotte  (an island) made an alliance with france to not become madagascar, etc.
zoned out to the max.
'Tannia- s'il vous plaît'
huh? oui!
(frantically trying to find the spot on the page).
"what-." i look up at him.
'....s'il vous plaît...'
THIS was my sentence(s):

"Une ordonnance royale de 1846 y a aboli l'esclavage. La France n'a étabil son protectorat sur les autres îles qu'environ un demisiècle plus tard (de 1886 à 1892), constituant un peu plus tard la colonie de "Mayotte et dépendances" rattachée par la loi du 25 juillet 1912 à Madagascar, alors colonie française." 

longest, most complicated sentence, in the history of the world.
the dates. aren't like back home- 1892 for example.
1892: eighteen ninety-two
in french: un mil huit quatre-vingt-douze 
(which sounds like: un mill wheat cat vaughn dooze)
which translated is: 1 million, eight, four times twenty plus twelve
their 90 is not one word: ninety, it's math: twenty four times plus ten
everything after the number 50 is actually, and with no rhyme or reason, each its own complicated math puzzle. 
ok- i'm lucky if i get the regular numbers right, i'm now adding, multiplying, recalling the entire 1-100 grid and hitting up the millions. 
brain, overload. 
or a nap.

i got both after class. 

Sunday, February 9, 2014

bananas, books & babies

don't eat bananas on the metro.
apparently this is taboo.
everyone eats on the metro- EVERYone.
i don't.
i find it a little gross.
people stink, someone's reading, a lady talking loudly on her phone.
bite, bite, baguette, crumbs.
on a rare morning, i was both hungry before noon,
and running late to class. 
i grabbed a banana,
and in my own seat, 
on a not so crowded metro,
i took a few bites.
i look up to find EVERYone staring at me.
women looked appalled, men looked creepy.
seriously people?! a banana.
you mange your baguettes all day, every day,
but a banana is where we draw the line.
good grief. 
i'm used to people looking at me on the metro.
i wear headbands and sequins and color and print.
i stand out in paris like a red balloon.
so- i just happily finished my banana and dramatically carried the peel between my fingers, arm extended as i exited at my stop,
discarding it like a used condom.

i've started reading on the metro.
there are three generations of folks:
the people my age listen to their IPhones/IPods with dramatic statement headphones,
the generation just ahead of me plays candy crush like it's their job,
and our parents' generation and beyond, reads.
over the holiday, my uncle gave me 'Me Talk Pretty One Day'
which i've always wanted to read.
i started it on the plane, and carried it to and from school,
reading it on the metro.
in just a simple 20 minute commute, i was able to finish the book in 3 weeks time.
pretty rad.
i'm already halfway through my next book & will likely read more in 2 months than i collectively read in the last year. 
i especially liked this book because for several chapters he's an older american in paris,
taking french classes. 
it's kindred in this season of my life & made me laugh.
when explaining movies with french subtitles, he writes: 
someone might say, "get your fat ass out of here before i do something i regret!" and the 
french subtitle will read: "leave."
it's so so true. i was busting up. where we have a full sentence, they have one word that means the same thing. 

anyway, i finished the book and gave it to my coffee shop guy.
he said he wanted to read it, and i was done, so no point in him buying it.
when i gave it to him, his response wasn't 'hey thanks' or something like that, 
but rather 'do you have a crush on me?'
(eyeroll) no. why?
well because i'm australian and french.
and i own my own business.
and you gave me this book!
yeah, sorry to disappoint your ego, but i was just being nice. it's kinda of a foreign concept here in france i know.
don't you think i'm handsome? he replies.
oh boie. look- i'm not trying to hurt your feelings, i was just trying to give you my discarded book. take it or leave it buddy.
ok, well thank you i guess.
you're welcome. 

oh baby, babies.
when you're far away,
you're both a little more and little less aware of everything going on back on the home front.
one thing that i'm constantly blown away by right now,
is the amount of wonderful people making and baking babies.
such an exciting time! 
forget year of the horse, 
2014 is the year of the babes. 
here are some recent and projected littles i can't wait to meet!

tiny baby harps
kayleigh joy
ashton loiland
mr castle
lil girl novy
lil boy cross
baby bauman
my nephew pugh
baby weber
mini bernstein
and the list goes on and on and on.

from my most recent count,


of my friends have just had or are having littles soon!
my my my, those times are changin.
bring on the next generation!

Saturday, February 1, 2014

sundays on the seine

“Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.” 
― Rumi