zinzinish
goals for nice
2 Comments
take up pilates
take more photos
do more guitaring
read read read dictionary dictionary dictionary
learn to surf, well
become infinitely more awesome
also, i really wanna see john mayer in concert. did we go back in time four years? yea, i don’t know, but i feel like i don’t want to miss the defining experience of our (female) generation, i.e. melting into a puddle at john mayer’s brand of ugly-sexy-corny-charms and sweating, screaming, as if the louder you get, the more likely he is to realize you’re his soul mate.
does john mayer get laid like 100 times after every show? i think so. he must be tired.
let me you if you wanna partake in this historic adventure. like woodstock, but more bras.
olive sweat pants
1 Comment
that really, there’s something erotic about the way a boy, a boy you don’t know, a boy with tired, red eyes, and mile-long lashes, and pink pillowy lips, tugs to rearrange the crotch of his pants on the metro seat across from you. that it should be something vulgar, but now something raw and unselfconcious.
that from the back, you thought he was from the banlieue, one of the boys leaning against some beautiful wall, shouting ‘bon soir’ and smiling suggestively as you make your way home, late into the night. a boy with hair spiked to a point in a 45 degree angle, favoring one side or the other according to mood.
but he sits across from you, and his face is so soft it makes you ache. and he’s so so sleepy and you wish you could reassure him that tomorrow, tomorrow when he wakes up, the film of visual debris and harshness of the lights caused by overfatigue will lift and the world will make a lot more sense.
but he’s too tired now, so it’s my turn; and he’ll think fate some other day.
ah, well
1 Comment
Paris has ruined me for all other cities. I’m making the move to this little beach town outside Monaco in a week exactly, so i guess i’ll give you some Parisian highlights.
these two are both Hannah/theatre oriented activities:
so you know that show where the little boy from Harry Potter plays grownup and gets all naked and rides on a mechanical horse? yea, saw the Parisian version on the Champs-E. me like naked theatre done in French.
mime recital at Hannah’s school. WHAT?! so sweet that i would come back to Paris just to see the Spring show.
prim, poofy gray-haired French teacher telling our class that “Voltaire, like all men, had his needs”
jamming with Erx
dinner chez Jacqui and Miranda
discovering Archards des Legumes
new year’s eve on the Champs Elysee, because, you know, ‘rock out with your cock out’
Chinese foods on Christmas Eve
miss Annie and all of her guidance and glory
finding out that true love is blind
sharing my anxieties about getting off the metro with Mariam, on a bus. loudly. because it’s really scary getting off the metro! it jerks about a second before it stops. one time i stood up too soon, and fell INTO A CHILD. not ok.
ramen. simpsons. nanna. TEA.
loving PEOPLE.
soldes. the sales here are INSANE. and it goes on for weeks and weeks, with all the stores, and tempts and gnaws at you until you empty your bank account. i am well on my way, but i have really pretty things to show for it.
seeing Justice on like my second night here. seeing Kiefer Sutherland at the Moose. seeing people in black, carrying baguettes, wearing berets, and smoking like they’re too cool for shit, every. day.
i’m bedding now, but if you’re the person who has me on your google reader, will you let me know? somehow i think that’s so super duper cool.
Protected: like in the movies
Enter your password to view comments
ni hao
Leave a Comment
new low: man in the metro telling me ‘je peux etre votre Bouddha”=”i can be your Buddha”
really? best pickup line yet.
pyro
Leave a Comment
mariam and i are going out tonight, because she’s back from brazil, and alllll tan. i bought a box of clementines yesterday from franprix for 2.98 euros; there must’ve been at least 30 in there, and i only have 5 left. sarah and justin came over last night and helped me with the citrus destruction. after justin took off, sarah and i played the guitar and sang a bunch of wreckers songs.
weeeeeeeeeeee. oh mariam is my lovely lovely british girl. she’s a corner of the triangle that is me hannah and m.
when she’s here, i light matches for fun.
so this is the new year
1 Comment
i like the fresh feel of a new year. i cleaned my apartment today; i’m getting a roommate, which is exciting, but only for a couple of weeks, which is kind of heartbreaking. i hear she’s british, i like that. and since i am no longer seduced by their accents, things should go smoothly.
i’m in love with paris. i know there are a lot of people competing for his heart, but i think i stand a chance for a slice. at first i thought paris should be a girl, you know, fresh flower shops on every corner, jazzy cafes, couples snuggled, his nose hidden in the nook of her neck, the eiffel tower glittering blue through the night. but the more i think about it, the more it feels like paris is the smooth, fitted-trousers-wearing, well-coiffed parisian boy seducing us all.
i love my friends here. LOVE them. i love who i am here. i love the mental pictures i get to take everywhere i go, like on the street a few weeks ago, when i passed a baby in a stroller, who made the loudest gurgling/laughing noise, and made me wish i could go back in time to record it. or the other night when this boy in sweats got on and off the same three trains i rode, then exited at my station. maybe he thought i was following him because i thought he was cute. maybe i thought the same, a little bit. either way, paris is creeptastic, but lets you daydream like a child.
it’s also been insane here, and i have a BUNCH of stories to tell you. i’ll get on it asap. be back tomorrow.
love,
