lust but not least

They were different times, no doubt. There has always been a romantic aura all over some cities, people were different, softer somehow. And he was ironic, tender and knew how to touch our heart. To tell the truth I thought I would have come back home muttering his words in a low voice and smiling.
BUT.
Would someone tell me how on earth Cole Porter could have written such a song as I love Paris????

One week in Paris and it rained every day. I'm not talking about that light and somehow lovely rain that cools the air on summer afternoons. Not at all. I'm rather talking about Noah and his ark. Animal couples, take just your wife and come on board. Yeah, that's it. And don't try to fool me about "singing in the rain". Every drop was large enough to choke me.

The city was stinky and the people were unbearable. Stiff and snobbish. They looked at us as if we were lice, to say the least. Not to talk about road or touristic signs... it was as their only goal was for you to be completely lost. I don't know, but last time I checked, road signs were meant to make you FIND places..Good Lord!

Another nice thing about the Ville Lumière is that if you're handicapped (temporarily or not) or if you have a baby and you're not able to carry him/her on your back "à l'Africaine" (I saw lots of women carrying babies that way and they're amazing, but come on!! It should be a choice, not a "that's the only way" thing) you're done. No tapis-roulant (moving walkway, they provided Europe the word, you see? THE WORD. But no trace of the THING), no elevators in most shops, nothing. Just stairs and stairs and stairs everywhere. And tiny doors. And bumpy sidewalks.

Now I'm home. And I miss that stinky place so much. I miss the holidays and that's obvious. But there's something else too. Something subtler than the rational things I just pointed out.
First of all I miss the "not Parisiennes" people. All those different colours and faces and styles and cultures. I miss the baker's shops, les boulangeriès, with their luxury windows, the beautiful and delicious gateaux, tartes, flan, petit patissèrie... all those sweet jewels aligned like tiny dancers ready to pirouette up to your mouth... Jeez, it was heaven! I gained some 4 pounds or so and I'm happy as a king!

(the photograph has been taken in the Jewish Quarter, one of the nicest I've seen)

I miss the cozy apartment we rented. It was so bohemienne it made me crave for romance every moment of the day... actually before leaving Italy Frook gave me a book that reminded me of Goldfish quite a lot. I usually say he's like a shark: even if he lives miles away he smells the blood and right when I'm weak he makes a phone call, or sends me a message about "the good old times". It happened when Mr.Charmes left, when I stopped seeing Thomas, when I lately lost my job. This time made no difference. I read the book thinking sweetly about him and - without knowing anything about where I was or so - he called me and was so lovely that I had to remind myself of the reasons why we broke up not to flirt over the phone.

I miss the comfort of a quiet vacation. I slept as an angel, prepared delicious meals and read a lot. A real holiday.

I miss my French. It's nothing more than a vague recollection from school, but as I love foreign languages so much I felt thrilled by chatting with people.. First day I hardly got to buy something to eat, the last days I went sightseeing all alone and had an almost decent conversation with a bookseller in a tiny comic-strip shop in Montmartre. He even laughed at my jokes. In French! And he laughed WITH me, not AT me!! Wow!

And at least, this is me. The huge ball in the pic is Le Gèode, a cinema at the Science Village, with a screen 1.000 square mt wide. I miss myself as you see me in the pic. A part of a larger world. In the shadow, maybe, but present and real.

So, in the end, it wasn't love at first sight between me and Paris.. I'd say it was much a kind of s/m relationship.. but who cares? I'm not used to easy things...
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Title from: It's good to be in love - Frou Frou

Oh, if you're asking, the title refers to my tights. My suitcase has been broken to pieces and, besides buying a brand new one in the most expensive town of the world, at the arrival I had to carry the old one like a sleeping baby, picking it into my arms up the winding staircase to the third floor, to our flat. Obviously it almost fell thousands of time and so my tights look like a map of the earth seen from the moon. Sexier than ever.

To relax, recover, have fun.

To eat a lot of wonderful food and buy some more books about food and visit dozens of shops where I will finally buy the amazing macarons of the picture.

To give myself a present for once.

To stop craving for sex.

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title from: Cry - Sarah Jane Morris

Life has a funny way of sneaking upon you when you think everything's ok and everything's going right.
And life has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything's gone wrong and everything goes up in your face...

So my job contract hasn't been renewed and I'm home, trying to collect the strenght to start again with a new job, wherever it may be. How to find a new one, what to do...I still don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that I'll be happier and healthier with none of the Addams on sight. And I perfectly know that I deserve something better, something that really suits me..

Still I'm worried for my future
Still I'm tired, after this year of struggling within.

Still I pray harder and harder for some real chance to come.