That I would like to visit by the end of the semester:
Barcelona, London, Luxembourg, Brussels, Strasbourg, Vienna, Prague, Budapest, Rome, Reykajyi..ok the place in Iceland, Stockholm, Algiers.
Those are just "major" cities of countries, and I didn't count places I've already been, and I didn't count places I'd be happy to visit. I hate this feeling of "oh this is the only time I'll get the chance to wander around Europe blah blah blah." I refuse to believe that's true.
I have four months left. I feel like the adventure is already almost over. And, at the same time, that it's really just begun.
I have a sore bun from sitting on my microwave and have to be at the Sorbonne early tomorrow for a fucking test so I will leave it at that. bonne soiree.
26.8.08
Forget everything you've ever learned about ab workouts
Done.
(Yeah I wasn't serious when I said I was done writing in here)
So, in my most recent "I have no idea what I'm doing with my computer" move, I deleted a bunch of music from my iTunes library. I keep finding that more and more is gone. The worst? All-yes, ALL- of my Wilco music is GONE. ALL OF IT. I was ok with the rest but this? It can't be! In my head I was seriously pleading with my PowerBook- "No, wait you don't understand! You can't have the Wilco! It's ME, it's WILCO we're talking about! You must be mistaken." I'm not kidding. It just seems unfair. It feels very similarly unfair to my unfortunate situation regarding my post-secondary education at the moment. So unfortunate that it has forced me to seriously re-evaluate what I'll be doing with my life, post-Paris. Or, maybe life post-Paris won't happen for awhile longer. Fuck. Serves me right for being such a snot in high school about everything. Long story short, screw Hampshire College. Is there some TripAdvisor type page for colleges where I can go and post about the many ways in which going to this school will fuck your life? Hopefully.
I wanted to post a little excerpt from my real journal about this because that would be more truthful (speaking of which, my journal is the MOST beautiful book in the world-I love living in a city where a fucking Swedish paper shop can stay in business, you know?) but then it fell open to a different page- "I'm in the waiting area for my flight to Chicago! But wait- I think I accidentally showed up to an Overeaters Anonymous meeting?" I'm one to talk. But come on, America, we can do better. Can't we?
Anyway, I need my life to pick up- and it will, I just want it now. I want classes and school and new friends and work and running around. I can see in my face how bored and lazy I've been these past few weeks. It doesn't look good. I can feel the French melting away from my brain slowly but surely. It's funny how much living alone changes that. Going from hearing French around me all the time to waking up in my English-speaking head and listening to music in English and reading books in English. And then when I go out and try to interact, the French words feel awkward in my mouth. I bumped into some guy the other day while listening to some song on my iPod and nearly let "excuse me" come out of my mouth- what? I ordered "un baguette" the other day at the boulangerie. Yeah, it sounds stupid but it's bothering me. Paris, Paris, please be done with your vacation soon. I need people to talk to again. My brain feels dull when it's only working in one language.
song you should listen to- "sea of love," -cat power. better before it was in that juno movie. hey girls! get preggers and it'll all be ok and you'll get to date michael cera. psych.
Oh- did I mention I'm working for Chanel's HR director? I'm working for Chanel's HR director.
(Yeah I wasn't serious when I said I was done writing in here)
So, in my most recent "I have no idea what I'm doing with my computer" move, I deleted a bunch of music from my iTunes library. I keep finding that more and more is gone. The worst? All-yes, ALL- of my Wilco music is GONE. ALL OF IT. I was ok with the rest but this? It can't be! In my head I was seriously pleading with my PowerBook- "No, wait you don't understand! You can't have the Wilco! It's ME, it's WILCO we're talking about! You must be mistaken." I'm not kidding. It just seems unfair. It feels very similarly unfair to my unfortunate situation regarding my post-secondary education at the moment. So unfortunate that it has forced me to seriously re-evaluate what I'll be doing with my life, post-Paris. Or, maybe life post-Paris won't happen for awhile longer. Fuck. Serves me right for being such a snot in high school about everything. Long story short, screw Hampshire College. Is there some TripAdvisor type page for colleges where I can go and post about the many ways in which going to this school will fuck your life? Hopefully.
I wanted to post a little excerpt from my real journal about this because that would be more truthful (speaking of which, my journal is the MOST beautiful book in the world-I love living in a city where a fucking Swedish paper shop can stay in business, you know?) but then it fell open to a different page- "I'm in the waiting area for my flight to Chicago! But wait- I think I accidentally showed up to an Overeaters Anonymous meeting?" I'm one to talk. But come on, America, we can do better. Can't we?
Anyway, I need my life to pick up- and it will, I just want it now. I want classes and school and new friends and work and running around. I can see in my face how bored and lazy I've been these past few weeks. It doesn't look good. I can feel the French melting away from my brain slowly but surely. It's funny how much living alone changes that. Going from hearing French around me all the time to waking up in my English-speaking head and listening to music in English and reading books in English. And then when I go out and try to interact, the French words feel awkward in my mouth. I bumped into some guy the other day while listening to some song on my iPod and nearly let "excuse me" come out of my mouth- what? I ordered "un baguette" the other day at the boulangerie. Yeah, it sounds stupid but it's bothering me. Paris, Paris, please be done with your vacation soon. I need people to talk to again. My brain feels dull when it's only working in one language.
song you should listen to- "sea of love," -cat power. better before it was in that juno movie. hey girls! get preggers and it'll all be ok and you'll get to date michael cera. psych.
Oh- did I mention I'm working for Chanel's HR director? I'm working for Chanel's HR director.
14.8.08
i can't take it no more baby i'm comin for you
This is going to be one of my less focused blogs.
It’s really hard for me to concentrate on writing when I can’t stop to check Facebook/whatever every five minutes. Is that right? Shouldn’t my lack of connectivity help me focus on writing? Probably. Let me back up for a moment and explain that I’m in my apartment in Paris, sitting on my bed, not connected to the internet. To be so, I must literally sit on top of my refrigerator and hold my computer halfway out the window. Thank you, dear THOMSON, you naive soul who doesn’t know how to password protect his shit.
So yes. Since we last spoke, I have been to Berlin, to Liege, to Amsterdam, back to Paris, to Chicago/Madison/Chicago, to Cannes, to Saint-Raphael, to San Remo, and finally back to Paris. I don’t really want to say a whole lot about any of it because that would ruin it. Being home was so freakishly normal. It disturbs me that I can spend seven months in a foreign country and then come back to the exact same scene I left. I feel like January-July was like that piece of string in A Wrinkle in Time..well, I mean, I feel like January-July was a wrinkle in time. Profound, I know.
My apartment is really great. IS really great. WAS not really great this morning when I got here after bringing my mom to the airport. It’s 2:15 a.m. right now and since about 10 a.m. I have been cleaning and re-decorating. I could totally be an interior designer for young women living in tiny, shitty apartments who think they have really quirky taste in stupid shit. Really though, it’s nice. Cozy. Tiny.
I think the reason I’m so good at doing things like cleaning out my apartment and making it look completely different in a day is because when I’m cleaning I don’t have to think about stuff. I seriously won’t stop cleaning until everything looks perfect, and then I have to be alone with my thoughts. Like: I have a really nice little apartment in Paris and a ton of free time until school starts again but I miss my friends who have left and Luis and the entire city is on vacation this month so that's a little strange...
I think some rabid creature may have bit my hand during the night.
For some reason, once in awhile my mom thinks it’s appropriate for her to shop at Anthropologie. The best thing about it is that after she buys whatever it is, she realizes it’s not that appropriate and gives all the shit to me.
The song “Make Love In This Club” by Usher featuring Yung Jeezy- so, SO good and I'm only kind of embarrassed to say it.
It’s really hard for me to concentrate on writing when I can’t stop to check Facebook/whatever every five minutes. Is that right? Shouldn’t my lack of connectivity help me focus on writing? Probably. Let me back up for a moment and explain that I’m in my apartment in Paris, sitting on my bed, not connected to the internet. To be so, I must literally sit on top of my refrigerator and hold my computer halfway out the window. Thank you, dear THOMSON, you naive soul who doesn’t know how to password protect his shit.
So yes. Since we last spoke, I have been to Berlin, to Liege, to Amsterdam, back to Paris, to Chicago/Madison/Chicago, to Cannes, to Saint-Raphael, to San Remo, and finally back to Paris. I don’t really want to say a whole lot about any of it because that would ruin it. Being home was so freakishly normal. It disturbs me that I can spend seven months in a foreign country and then come back to the exact same scene I left. I feel like January-July was like that piece of string in A Wrinkle in Time..well, I mean, I feel like January-July was a wrinkle in time. Profound, I know.
My apartment is really great. IS really great. WAS not really great this morning when I got here after bringing my mom to the airport. It’s 2:15 a.m. right now and since about 10 a.m. I have been cleaning and re-decorating. I could totally be an interior designer for young women living in tiny, shitty apartments who think they have really quirky taste in stupid shit. Really though, it’s nice. Cozy. Tiny.
I think the reason I’m so good at doing things like cleaning out my apartment and making it look completely different in a day is because when I’m cleaning I don’t have to think about stuff. I seriously won’t stop cleaning until everything looks perfect, and then I have to be alone with my thoughts. Like: I have a really nice little apartment in Paris and a ton of free time until school starts again but I miss my friends who have left and Luis and the entire city is on vacation this month so that's a little strange...
I think some rabid creature may have bit my hand during the night.
For some reason, once in awhile my mom thinks it’s appropriate for her to shop at Anthropologie. The best thing about it is that after she buys whatever it is, she realizes it’s not that appropriate and gives all the shit to me.
The song “Make Love In This Club” by Usher featuring Yung Jeezy- so, SO good and I'm only kind of embarrassed to say it.
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