Sepia Tainted

An explanatory note to the mass postings tonight

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:17:00 +0000

I am cancelling my Myspace Account, in which many of my writings are (were) saved and I just hoped to be able to rescue some of them. Then I found out, they did not keep all my posts, only the ones in the past couple of years. But it is OK, I can always write more (although I have not been writing as much I would like to) and I am not likely to have any aphasia risking my memory anytime soon. (It is from my divine inspiration, who told me it had been scientifically proven).

It was absurd to read the old writings in one night, whose time interval extends more than years. Thank you for all your comments and kudos and you are more than welcome to continue to leave your words on the http://sepiatainted.blogspot.com From time to time the shadow of being a frustrated "opionated gypsy" popped up between the lines, especially the ones done in France (and to be more particular would be the rotten town of Nice). Was it the reason why I chose to blog instead of journal? Just from copying and pasting, I saw myself change, different time interval provides different set of thinking, un-evened emotions and near-heart-attack experiences. Too bad that Myspace wiped out half of my notes, but if I ever find them in the old emails somewhere and worth keeping, I will put them online.

Do drop a glance if you are curious to know who and how I was, and maybe a couple syllables of your thoughts. I won't be able to offer a penny for your thought -- Euro is losing its value.

The last one ...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:08:00 +0000

that Myspace archives for my blog ...

July 2, 2006 - Sunday 17:24

Run

Just got back from a trip. A very disturbing one.

I almost missed the train to Toulouse at midnight because the metros in Paris run irregularly over the weekends. In line number 10, I counted seconds for arriving at the last stop, Gare Austerlitz, where I conncted my train. The sweat dripped from my face with my heavy breath... I had 128 seconds to get through metro and onto the train...I started running, bumped into people and left endless "pardon"s...As I stepped on the train, the door shut behind me and the train started to move.

I was the only female in the compartment, the other three guys were tossing and turning like me all night. The heat and the light flashing through windows prevented us falling alseep, but none of them said a word. The night was supposedly devoted to slience.

Arrived at Toulouse at 6:30 AM on a Sunday morning. The air was freshly cool after the rain. Took the metro to Capitole and arrived in the Hotel around 7:30. I was crushed, after two nights' of sleeplessness. I asked the guy at the reception's desk if I would crash on the sofa until my room was ready. He said yes.

I finally got my room at around noon. Took a shower and back to bed.

The exams were alright. I did better on the oral then the written. The last day in Toulouse was just wild open. Now I wish that I had left instead of roaming around for another 26 hours...

Funky experiences with people, animals, football, beers, chips, pubs.

Got back on the train 29 of June heading to Bordeaux. Meeting the family of a friend. Wonderful people. I had no desire to come back last night.

Watched the last half of the game" France vs. Bresil". The city turned into a madness of happiness. Allez les bleus!

June 24, 2006 - Saturday 12:57

Are you lonely?

I was suppposed to meet up with a friend today in Chambery, but he stood me up while I couldn't refund the train ticket. I decided to delete him from my friend list. I don't understand how pathetically hypocrytical a person can be sometimes. It is not very excusable even he's got some "circumstances", anyone can pick up a payphone and call! It is not sad for me, it filled me with anger. Oh well, if the forest is big, you can find all kinds of birds, including the annoying ones.

The sun is shining here. I had a really long day yesterday, but it is ok, it is Saturday now. My friend L. went to Italy yesterday, so I helped her with her luggages until up tp Paris. I had nothing to do besides showing her the metro system, then, I decided to make it a day, so I visited Louvre for the first time. It was very tiring but I got to see so many works that I had always wanted to see before. It was great.

I sat under the Eiffel Tower and read, or watch people posing under it while having their pictures taken, I was the only one solo in the whole picture... everyone else was coupled up or grouped up... interesting to see how human beings are usually social creatures while reminding myself during another friend's stay in my apartment, he couldn't stop talking and we weren't really communicating. Maybe we need just a hallow scene to trick ourselves not to feel too lonely. However, the ones who fear loneliness are the most lonely ones.

Got a sunburn again in Paris and I am heading off for Toulouse tomorrow, for my last exam. On my way back, I will go to a little village outside of Bordeaux to meet a familly, they are the family of a friend who I don't really see anymore, but still kinda, sorta in touch. Then, I need to start looking for housing in Nice as I have no hope for the passing of the concours this year, but before that, I need to go to Lyon to visit a friend. She is getting married, it is very absurd everytime I hear such news, very absurd.

heading south (part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:04:00 +0000

July 21, 2006 - Friday 13:47

Heading south Part I

This has been an incredible trip. First of all, 12 hours of train ride from Paris to Nice was a nightmare. I didn't book a couchette, so try to sleep with lights, half way sit-up and noises as someone like me with sleeping disorder... yeah, it doesn't work. Unlike usual, this time I took as much stuff as I could to move because I knew that I wouldn't be able to buy all these daily things all over again, thus, I had one huge luggage and a small one. Nice is one his way to be the 3rd largest city in France and it is crazily expensive to live in.

The city is under construction for a tramway for who knows how long ( at least 3 years) and no one knows when the project will be finished. (not anytime soon, it will take another year or two), therefore, the traffic is all screwed up. I called a taxi from the train station and it cost me a fortune because of all the deviations. But luckily; I got the LAST bed in the hostel. They didn't let me reserve it since it is high tourist season and they ran out of reserved beds. I smelt like a barbarian since I hadn't taken a shower for two days and the smell of the train was that pleasant, but I wasn't able to get into my room until 3pm (take a note on that, the hostel is closed between 11am and 3pm). I arrived at 9am with a big headache but I got to talked to one of the women who works at the hostel, not sure of her name, call her L. then, who remembered me from my last stay because my insane craving for caffeine. There was nothing to do so as she suggested, I needed to head out and give out my CVs (résumés) in hope of finding a job. And I did, with my not-quite-fashionable smell/hairdo/and clothing. I headed downtown with my head spinning.

I was only aiming for hotels on my first day since there are many Italians here and hotels looked for people who could speak the language. However, it was too late. You have to start turning in your résumés in JANUARY AND FEBURARY in order to get a small place in summer!!!! "No thanks" they told me. "can I leave my CV here anyway..." "Well, to be honest, we already have a whole stack of them....." Fine, after giving out my CVs like party flyers on my first day, I decided to take a shower finally. So I was back to the hostel around 4pm. Water is good, water is your friend, and soap just works wonders!

Having a job is important; but finding a roof is too. L. took a piece of paper of the bulletin board and gave me a wink... "Call this number, you may want to check out the room". Yeah, she is not supposed to do that but it was so nice of her to do so. I thanked her and stuck the paper into my backpack, forgot about it. I thought that I had things under control. When I was in Caen, I jobbed down a few numbers to call for the room and I was sure that I should be able to find one that would fit my situation. But "NNNOOOOO"(a John Belushi "No") They are either too expensive or too far. After spending 35 euros on my cell, I only looked at one room, and I can't afford it. Then, I called ALL the numbers in the classified in the newspapers... there are so many great places for rent, I am just too cheap.

In the hostel, there are 8 of us. Two girls from NYC ignored me most of the time and one from UK snores like a bear at night. But I managed to make a good friend with another girl from UK with Indian and Malaysian heritage, Miss. A. We went down to the beach that night for the fireworks since it was Bastille Day, then we had a few drinks. I had 2 "sex on the beach" and the bartender was very generous about vodka. But she doesn't drink alcohol because of her religion. So, I couldn't take any sleeping pills that night and I didn't sleep at all. My 3rd night of sleeplessness...

July 15.

Suddenly remembered the paper that L. took off the bulletin board. I called the number and made an appointment with Mr. M. who is the owner of the apartment. He is, for the record is the biggest fucking asshole I had to deal with since a long long time. He doubted if I was really going to take a look at the place or not. He called me and reminded me two times that night. We had the appointment at 11am and I was around the building about 10am, so to kill time, I walked into an internet cafe to check my email. I just sat down, M. called and reminded me about the appointment. "Tell me now if you are not going to there!" "But Mr. M. I am already here, I am next to the building and checking my emails." Anyway, cominciamo bene huh? It was a music store/internet cafe, and the person who owned the place was about 60 years old. When I just started using the PC, he got a phone call and started yelling at the phone on some issues on Israel. I was the only customer, so I could hear everything clearly. After I finished, I went up and I spoke to him. We had a long discussion about random stuff. He is a musician, lived in Singapore for a long time and had traveled around the world. Anyhow, he (Yv.) left me a copy of his business card and we were supposed to meet for dinner the next day.

I had to run because it was about 11am. I had never seen M. smiled, he has been already bitter. He opened the door and showed me the place. "There you go, 350 a month plus utility for August, and then, you can move into a cheaper one for 300 euros plus utility. I have another room for 375 euros a month, but since you can't afford the 350 already, so there is no use to show you that room." "OK, I will take it." "You need to leave something as a reservation fee so I don't rent them out." "Ok...how do you want as a reservation fee?" "200 euros at least." "OK, I don't have my check book with me, so can I give you cash?" He said yes and I went to the ATM machine, however, I had a limit of 450 euros a week of cash, so I could only take out 150, but he accepted it and wrote me a receipt. "You don't have your check book, or your acceptance letter or your passport and you want to rent a room!" "I try my luck mister." So, semi-officially, I had a room, I had an address, which is the most important thing that I needed to have to renew my residence permit.

Since I rented one cubic meter's space to store two of my suitcases, I had to drag them to the storage. I phoned before I took off just to make sure it was the right place. The person on the other end of the phone was super nice and he said that if I could wait 20 minutes, he could come and pick me up because dragging two suitcases in the heat for 30 minutes wasn't a good idea. A while later, I saw a white minivan pulled up in front of the hostel, that was Y. He was really nice to me and he said that he would help me looking for a small job if he could. There was a bitchy woman before me, so he was happy that I had the patience to wait. So, he gave me a 12 euro lock for my rented box and he let me use his computer and internet to print out my résumés.

I left the storage company and started targeting restaurants. Too late for the season as well, they finished their group training in the month of April or May. But actually, I found one restaurant was hiring. I handed him my CV and we sat down and talked for a few minutes. He asked me if I had worked in the kitchen before, I said yes, and he asked me what salary do I have in mind. I said that I had no idea at all, this was the second day I am in the city... He then told me to expect a call from him for a trail, if I did fine, I would be hired, if not, too bad. I was really delighted by the news, although it wasn't a sure thing. I then stayed in the Virgin bookstore for 3 hours studying Italian cooking and I took a few pages' of notes too. Then, when I was back to the hostel, I spent some time reviewing the classic recipes. But, he never called.

July 16

I woke up late, under the influence of Unisom. I stepped into a cafe next to the court house, the only one I knew. The last time I was in Nice, I went out with 7 people from the same hostel and we had a great time at the same place. But now, it was just me, and my dear double espresso. One of the guys working at the bar started speaking to me and I found out that he was going to China and Brazil with his big yak in November. So he wanted some inside ideas in China and he asked me to leave a copy of my CV and if he heard something , he would call me right away. Sure, people can say whatever they want.

Sunday, nothing was open. I decided to take a break and go to the beach. I touched the sea for the first time since my arrival. Between «NO»s and the sleeplessness, being at the beach was like in heaven. I spent a few hours with two girls from the same hostel and while we were hanging out in a cafe, I got a call from the guy at the bar. Lets call him M. D. because I didnt know his name and the cafe he worked in starts with «D». He asked me to drop by the next day between 2pm to 3am while he was at work.

I waited and waited for the buzz for a trail in the restaurant, but it never happened. So as planed, I went to dinner with Yv. and he showed me a bunch of pictures, told me his life story. We took a short walk afterwards and we went back to our own place. I then went to a discothèque with a few girls but nothing was going on that day.

Heading South (From Normandy to the rotten part of the country)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:02:00 +0000

July 24, 2006 - Monday 00:55

Random Stuff

I can't believe that all the libraries are closed in this town; yes, all three of them. They are on vacation until mid August, nobody reads anymore?

Sunday, the worst days of the week. It feels like a ghost town here. I spent the most of the day trying to figure out what to do and I ended up nothing accomplished. I spent too much time dwelling on useless thoughts instead of taking action. However, I am a hopelessly impulsive person, I would make a decision or buy a train ticket in a flash, even not knowing where to sleep the next night or if I have enough money in my checking account.

Picked up a CD and tried to learn a foreign language. Echec. Need a prof. to start and then one day, when I reach a certain level I can do the improvement alone. Which makes me think if we all need someone's help to make the first progress. Talking, eating, walking, swimming, fucking, driving...

I am counting the hours to leave Normandy and I can hardly wait to drag my suitcase on the train while waving goodbye to this land. I have a quasi blank page here, really, nothing interesting happened. My memories are filled with cows, hills, and bad weather. At the same time, I don't regret the place I have chosen although I am more than happy to head south.

Got into touch with a friend whom I hadn't heard from for a really long time. We have the right to pretend everything is fine but that is just silly. It is funny how zeal can turn into hatred in a spilt second and this process can never be undone. I tried so hard to find out where the leak was in our relationship; I even used a magnifying glass, but I failed, the explaination never came to me. It just happens, è così.

I am sensing the cold breeze of the Normandy and taking it all in, won't get that in Alpes-Maritimes, not this time of the year; and I need to light a candle to join the stars.

2 Comments(Add Comment) |2 Kudos

July 21, 2006 - Friday 23:31

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Heading South Part II

July 17

Once again, under the influence of the sleeping pill. I got out of bed about 11am, the time I was supposed to be out already (the hostel is closed between 11am and 3pm). I jumped into the shower and when I got out, the door swung open, the director had keys in his hand and there I was, dripping water and half naked. "I will be back in 5 minutes, you'd better be out by then." he closed the door behind him. "I am sorry..." I doubted that he heard me though.

First thing first, I needed to go the bank. I stepped in and I explained my situation: my card is not working and I really needed some cash for food, and I was sure that I had enough money in my account. The woman I spoke to just top M., she soon became the top asshole on my list.

"Sorry, I can't help you. You didn't open your account in this banking center."

"But I have an account with your bank. Would you please..."

"No, there is nothing I can do."

"Could you please phone the branch in Caen?"

"No, we don't do that."

"But I have an account with your bank."

"You didn't open your account in our office. There is nothing I can do. Bye."

If I hadn't had low blood sugar, I would have asked to talk to her supervisor. I had only 60 cents in my pocket and I hadn't eaten in 16 hours. Thus, the only way for me to get some cash was to call M. and asked him to return my money. He said yes, so I walked for about one hour with shaky body and soak in the heat.

"I am sorry Mr. M, there is something with my bank account, and I have only 60 cents, not even enough to buy some bread and I need to buy the ticket back to Caen..."

"I don't care, the room will be gone in no time."

"Can I write you a check as soon as I go back to Normandy to reserve the room?"

"I don't know. If the room is still available."

"I am going back in two days."

"So? I have people calling every day for the room."

"Thanks. Bye."

I went into the first grocery store and got a huge sandwich and a big Orangina. Then, I walked over to the storage place and paid off my debt. Then, I went to see Yv. and told him the news.

"Are you OK? You look sick."

"I am sick. Do you have an aspirin?"

"My last one." he took out a small blue bottle and handed it to me. I put the white pill into a glass of water and listened to its frizzling.

"I lost my room and I need to go back to Caen the day after tomorrow."

"Why? How? I thought I found a friend and now you are pulling this on me."

"Not my choice, my bank account is frozen and the woman at the branch was really bitchy."

"So call the bank!"

"I don't have enough money on my cell."

"Go and find the number, I will let you use my phone."

That was nice of him, and I tried to use my card to pay for the train ticket online. It didn't work, so that is not the problem with the magnet strip but something bigger. Then, I checked my balance, oh yeah, that is the problem, I had only 51 euros left and the train ticket cost 61 euros. There was nothing I could do besides waiting for the money that I borrowed from my best friend to come in. My best friend is in Portland and opening his own restaurant, despite his own shortage for money, he insisted on sending me some help. Gosh, I really miss him.

Stop by the Bar. D. and spoke to Mr. D.

"I am going back to Caen the 19."

"What? When are you coming back?"

"As soon as I can. I need a job to survive you know?"

"How about working here from 11am to 3pm for 30 euros?"

"I will take it. When do I start?"

"Not sure, I need to talk to the boss. But I need an exact date when you will be back at Nice."

"I will be here within 24 hours after I receive your call on the job."

"If you need a place to crash, I can let you stay in my house for a night or two. It is air conditioned. The only problem is that I get off at 3am."

"Air conditioning? That is to die for. It is so nice to you to offer me that, but I will really try not to bother you on this."

His colleague walked in:" Hey! How come you get to kiss the girl (on the cheek)? I want a kiss too!" Another customer walked in and Mr. D. asked him if the restaurant called "L'equirer" he worked in needed anyone. He shook his head," But you can always ask. Around 6pm, the boss will be there." I took his words for it and stopped by Yv.'s place, he told me that he had worked at "L'equirer" for three years as a musician. But when I was there to turn in my CV, they were busy so I didn't do any name dropping, nor did I get to talk to the boss. No big deal, I need to be down there for any interviews.

I sat on the beach for 3 hours staring at the sea. It wasn't very sunny that day but the storm that we had been waiting for didn't happen neither. The air was heavy and humid, but that allowed me to find some peace because I would hate to deal with the crowd at that moment. People talk, talk and talk, but they hardly do anything. Their words were weightless.

July 18

Nothing much going on either, I tried to hand out more CVs but after a few hours' walking in heat, I decided that I needed a break. So, I went to the beach with two friends. It is absolutely necessary for me to learn how to swim soon, who are you kidding? I will be living so close to the sea while I can't swim!

July 19

On the train, got a call from Mr. D. Oh yes, by the way, I got to know his name from his colleague, it starts with a V.

So, here I am. I spoke to the bank and somehow my debit card got blocked because of the electronic errors somewhere no one could explain. Thus, my consul ordered a new card for me. Got another call from V. He was watching TV alone at home.

I called M. as soon as I mailed him the check.

"Mr. M. I mailed you the check today, please send me a receipt when you receive it."

"I don't trust you. I give you 48 hours and if I don't get it on Saturday morning, I am renting the place out!"

"Mister, please. I mailed it this afternoon and it is Thursday afternoon."

"Well, that is why I give you until Saturday morning."

"It doesn't depend on me now you know. Can you please wait until Monday morning?"

"No. I don't trust anyone. People play jokes."

"Ok, bye." I hung up the phone, can't stand that sucker!

As miserable as he is, no wonder anyone would pull any pranks on him! They were actually doing him a favor, he should feel lucky that anyone even pays any attention to him!

Welcome to France

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 20:00:00 +0000

August 7, 2006 - Monday 21:46

Welcome to France

I had been thinking about this moment in the past 4 months: standing behind the queue that is 2 miles long and the smell of sweat and the scream of children fill the room. And yes, the real scene was worse than I had expected, but the rest fit right in with my imagination.

I woke up at 7:30am, took a shower, had my espresso and headed out for the Préfecture, where the person works behind the glass would determine my fate of my staying in Europe. The Administration Center wasn't even in Nice, it is in the suburb, a few kilometers from the airport. On the 45 minutes' ride bus, I kept checking the necessary documents in my mind: birth certificate, acceptance letter from my new school, the grades of the last year, the exams I took last year, official form of the change of the address... and a fake bitter smile. The paper weights about 3 pounds. I got off at the last stop, although it wasn't too many people on the bus but the amount of people were in the room was really considerable. So, I made some photo copies, took my ID photo in the booth, and stood in line.

"Excuse me, do you have a ticket already?"

"No, we are standing in line to get a ticket."

"Oh..." Advice: wear comfortable shoes, eat your breakfast, hold your pee, keep your smile, and bring hear muffs. Some children played toys cars in the hall and chased them under the chair; elderly sat down and had their family stood in line. We saw people kept joining in this never ending line but no one got out of the exit; the expressions of others' faces were only three: happy, sad, or angry.

I got in line around 9:00 and I got to talk to the woman on the counter at 11:30. Yes, please wear comfortable shoes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am trying to renew my residence's card."

"What are you doing at Nice?"

"Study."

"Study what?"

"French language."

"What did you last year?"

"I worked at a.."

"You were at school right?"

"Yes. I was studying French."

"So what are you doing here?"

"To study French."

"AGAIN?"

I started to feel a little not at ease.

"Fine, you can try, take this number and wait."

"Thank you."

My eyes were fixed on the panel where they showed the call numbers, like some of them, we are lucky to make it to this point. The préfecture only opens from 9:00 to 12:30, so basically, you have be here very very realy in order to talk to someone. Because of Rolling Stone is coming tomorrow, so they are closed at noon! Jeez, it is a police station for heaven sake, not a music revue. Anyway, I should probably camp out in front of the holy building tomorrow. (yes, need to return tomorrow again.)

After another 30 minutes, 552, my number showed up on the screen. I rushed to window 6. The woman behind the glass was really nice though, but it is not easy to talk through those tiny holes, feels like in prison. The window 8 is right next to me, it is specially for Work permits. When I was turning in all my documents, a drama broke out:

A guy in his 30's yelling at the prefect, no you don't do that. "How would you expect me to work while you gave me a paper that prohibit me to work?"

"I am not giving you a work permit unless you have a contract!"

"How am I suppose to have a contract when I have no right to work?"

"I am not giving you a work permit without contract."

"But I can't have a contract unless they see that I have the right to work."

"Not my problem."

The 30 years old guy put the kid on the floor and stood up, yelled:" Tell me what to do! Just tell me! I can't get a contract because you wouldn't give me a paper to work. They would if I had the paper!"

"Fuck this shit!" Can you believe this came out of a prefect consul?

"Fuck this too!" Everyone started to staring at them.

"I am calling the security."

I don't remember what he replied, but as the security guys showed up, he and his family left the building.

Shit, I need to talk this person tomorrow morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And no, I don't have a contract, because the pizza place asked me to get a permit before they would give me a job.

I was doing fine, she gave me 3 months' of extension in the form of a receipt, but I'd better not leave the country.

"When do I know my card is ready please?"

"Well, you can pop in and check,"

Pop in? To stand in line and miss the whole morning's class to "pop in"?

Nevertheless, I am legal here until Nov. 6, 2006.

Working in that fucking slavary bar!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:59:00 +0000

September 8, 2006 - Friday 17:00

Smile, you are on air

I am not a big fan of group-emailing. I would much prefer to send emails to individuals individually considering keyboard is already a lot less personal then hand writing. But being deprived from time and internet, this is the most efficient way to keep you updated on me and stay in touch with everyone.

Summer is slipping away as I sleep in the daytime serving in the nighttime. I could hardly recall what sunshine looked like if I hadn't had two days off, yesterday and today. I was trying to make the best out of this precious 48 hours but my body was so used to be up until 6am that I am not able to readjust my bio-clock anytime soon. Yes, I am still taking sleeping aids. This odd work-rest rhythm is surely to be a hazard when the school starts, in couple of weeks. Do I continue to live like a vampire to have some spare change in the pocket or do I choose to struggle financially for some time for myself, my studies and my friends?

Tried to see if I grew any muscle by working in such a physical demanded place, then I found out I can't make a fist with my left hand. But if I could, I am sure I am 3/10 way up to have a little mouse on my bicep like I dreamt of. I took a walk with a friend last night, after having a great Indian dinner and ice cream, and while we were sitting in front of the sea, I realized how much I missed the time like this, being able to just sit and listen to the waves with no alarm clock set up for work. Then I re-asked myself if this was the place I want to be.

Right after ice cream, I needed to use the restroom, so I asked the ice cream place, the owner said :"NO." I tried to enter a pub next to it, they said :"The pub is full tonight." No it wasn't, hardly anyone sat on the terrace. The third one that we tried to enter was one of the popular ones, right before I reached the sign :"Toilette" a guy BLEW WHISTLE at me! Even there was a live band playing! Everyone started laughing at me so I turned around the left the place. At the door, he said:" This is King's Pub's toilette! Not the toilette over there. You buy some drinks, then you can use it." I walked pass him without saying a word, but in my head, I played out my scene: I would slap 5 euros in hid face and say loudly: " Keep your beer and the change!" I then took his whistle and blew it on his face for 10 seconds straight:" You do that to a dog. Now, BARK! Oh by the way, it is "THERE", not "zere", you can't pronounce "th" sound can you, cheap doggy?"

I ended up returning to my work place for the bathroom. And if I were a journalist already, my hidden camera would catch the whole whistle scene and he is going national!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I got back to my apartment, I kept thinking what my friend said to me about this place being beautiful or not. On a clear day, if you stand at the top of the castle and look down, the view will take your breath away; this magnificent blue is what kept me going on the 10 hours non-break shift. I sit on the beach and watch the blue for one hour during my break (we have one hour break during 11 hour shift). It is the sea brings people to this town, it is the sea make those pubs and restaurants rich, but under this sugar-coded beauty, it is sea-load of exploitation and arrogance, it is sea-load of sexy-dressed cocktail waitresses who serve you with smiley lips and painful eyes.

Lying in my bed but with my eyes wide open. My brain refused to shut down as usual. Millions of thoughts zapped through but I didn't seem to be able to catch or finish any of them. Buzzed a friend in the States directly from my cell phone. Yes, I could afford a 5 minutes conversation, I just got paid two days ago.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, everything is alright, how are you?"

"Why aren't you sleeping at 4 in the morning? I can hear from your voice, something is wrong."

"No, everything is alright, how is your restaurant in Portland?"

"We are opening in two weeks. Get a visa and come here, I promise to give you a job."

"Uh huh."

"Zaffiro said hi, I want to get him a Zaffira!"

"Don't pick on my bird, he is territorial."

"I am going to cook him with rice tomorrow night, give me your new address, I will send you half."

"I dare you touch my Zaffiro. Yes, I sent you my new address."

"Get a visa and come back. Do you still like France?"

"Yeah, I do. I gotta go, my battery is dying. Call me this weekend ok?"

"I will try. But you know I am really busy with the new restaurant."

"I know."

I got up from bed, lit a candle for my ancestor and a lavender incense hoping it would relax my mind. Even with double glazed window, I can still hear people washing the streets and motor vehicles passing by. Comparing to those who never left their own countries, I am so lucky; but I found myself spending most of my time chasing after a residence's permit, why are we spending our life time fighting for that piece of plastic? If I were having an European passport, would my perception about the world be any different? Maybe I would be a journalist by now, maybe I wouldn't have such a sleeping problem, maybe I would never learnt to appreciate the privileges of holding certain identity cards, maybe I would be one of those make others serve while I arrogantly give out the commands. I guess we can never find out any of those "what if"s, but I know, with or without an Euro ID, I enjoy the life of becoming more and more independent and I appreciate all of my experiences, sweet or sour.

-------------------------------------

August 29, 2006 - Tuesday 16:33

Some of them want to abuse you

Current mood:RAGE

Got back to the apartment from work about 4:30AM. The customers trashed the place as usual. I was dead tired; but I couldn't fall asleep, I was thinking about going to the Prefecture again in the morning to get some paper work straighten out, like my titre de sejour and my work permit.

I arrived at the Prefecture around 8:30AM (it takes about one hour to get there by bus). Because of the sleeplessness, I was in no mental state to deal with anything heavy. But the line was soooooooooo long, even though the office doesn't open until 9am, there were already so many people outside waiting. I waited for 3 hours or more, when I finally got to talk to someone, she simply shrugged the shoulder and said:" You are too late." It was 11:43, they only work from 9:00-11:30. Then, I found out that they FORGOT to register me under the renewal of my residence's card, so I had to start the process all over. THIS IS MY IDENTITY CARD YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!!!How can they abuse people like this? When we are getting deported and we don't even know why!!!!!!!!!! How could they live with their conscious? How can they sleep, or eat, or have orgasm? I was so angry that I could just dissect someone with a steak knife.

Got a call from my bank, since when I permitted them to sell me shit on my cell phone? Fuck. Post office to change my address, they didn't let me rent a PO BOX because I don't own a company. What the hell!? I was so tired that I couldn't fill out the form correctly.

Ok, nothing had gone right from 4 AM, what else could go wrong? I felt sick, my left shoulder popped, and my wrist hurt like hell. I could hardly move them, too bad this is the arm we use to carry trays. For the headache? I used 3 aspirins, and I drank 6 shots of very strong espresso before going to work. My entire body was held out my caffeine. I was that close to call in sick. Maybe I should have.

Two hours after work, I didn't feel so hot and I almost puked in the bathroom. Then, I couldn't move my shoulder or my arms very well because they hurt really bad and maybe some nerves were damaged a couple of years ago.... you know...I couldn't even pick up a cup right. Anyway, I managed it all night, dragged the chairs in and out, set up the terrace, cleaned AAAAAAA LLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTT, and of course, took all the orders and carried them out like I was told on the left side of the terrace. Finally, I saw the light of the tunnel, I could almost leave this slavery. The manage came in and said:" You have only 800 euros in your til, look at Karol, she has 1400! Either she is too good or I am paying you less! FIX THAT TOMORROW!!!!" Since when all the waitress work there have the have this fucking competition on how much money we take from customers? I didn't have lots of people on my side and they didn't order anything expensive like hers did, a few bottle of vodka would boost up the til truly fast ( they sell it at 80 euros-90 euros a bottle). I guess I may get fired soon. We had another girl working here since last night, the manage said her til was only 50 euros less than mine, and she is new. WELL, me too! I have TWO DAYS more experience than she does! And this is my FIRST waitressing job for fuck sake. I was sick, I couldn't hold a tray straight. WHY the co worker's tils have to be a competition now? And how am I suppose to fix this tomorrow? Do I have a certain amount of money I need to make for the fucking pub? Maybe if I called in sick I would be like this.This wasn't a good day, actually it was a really fucking shity day and I was at the edge of explosion and the dick head manager just poked my bubble. I took the abuse from the Prefecture and now I have to take it from work, not counting and a Polish bitch was making me do all this cleaning and scrubbing while she was behind the counter polishing her finger nails! PS: My shirt was in the closet wasn't my fault! My co worker borrowed it and she put in it! So, ask first and then give the punishment. How could you pay me any less? I am getting paid 5 euros an hour doing opening to closing, only hour break in a 10-11 hours shift. Have they ever thought about humanity? In the States, it is illegal to make people work continuously more than 5 hours, and I couldn't have time to drink water!

I don't care anyone calls me a druggy, I just popped my sleeping pills and I need some rest. It is so sad that after 11 hours' physical work and I am deadly tired while fail to fall asleep. I am working 9 days in a roll. I will get my first break at the beginning of Sep, for two days.

Oh yeah, this is IMPORTANT

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:56:00 +0000

September 18, 2006 - Monday 18:19

The cherry Red Counter

I am happily to contribute today to absolute nothingness. Finished my last slavery shift last night and I woke up this afternoon and realized I couldn't really move my body, it was falling apart. It took me about two hours trying to find a lying position in which I could feel less ache, no luck, I popped a sleeping pill instead. I was supposed to go to French Canyon with a few friends this morning, but there was no way I could have be there by 9am, considering I arrived in my apartment from work about 4:30am. Next time may be, but there have been so many fun occasions I had missed because of this 5 euros/hour, 11 hour shift. It had been raining, so I worked in the rain for 22 hours at least straight, so, I am sick.

When I walked in the pub last night for the last time around 5pm, I was about to hit the counter with a broom. What happened on Friday night was still vivid in my head and erased every single possibility that I would miss this place once I stepped out of it.

I was working on the terrace with another two girls, and at one point, it got really busy suddenly. I had no idea what the other two were doing but I ended up to be the only one on the terrace for about 5-10 minutes. (It is actually a long time when there are about 100 customers you are dealing with...) anyway, I had about 7 orders in hand, 3 of those were huge group orders. 2 of those groups were already drunk when they came in, so they probably didn't know what they were ordering. After I punched in the orders in the computer (we are talking about 16 50cl beers, some whiskies, gin tonic, etc... in total, it was about 25 drinks). When I took some of the drinks out, I found both of these drunk group had already left! Which meant that I had about 25 drinks left on the counter, (which is as big as a snowboard and it is where all 3 of us picked up out orders and bring them to the clients). So since I couldn't bring any of those orders out, the manager Kevin yelled at me in front of everyone:" What the fuck you think you are doing? Don't take a break right now! You think you are on holiday? Move your fucking ass and work!!!!!! Fucking move it!" "Sir, I had been carrying about 10 drinks at one time on my tray non stop in the past 6 hours, and there were two groups....." I was going to show him the tickets that I punched in, those drinks were supposed to be for the drunk groups, but he pushed me off the bar, I almost fell and hit my head on the counter,:" Don't fucking talk to me, just do it! And don't think! Just fucking do it. BRING OUT THE FUCKING DRINKS, BRING BACK EMPTY GLASSES AND MAKE MONEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I picked up a glass, put it back down on my tray, I was THAT close to smash this glass on his head, I would use the rest of the broken glass cut open his chest and see if he is human or not, or wait, don't bother, he is not! I started to feel dizzy because of the rage, but I had to carry on and finish the last two shifts left. So, none of those drinks on the counter was actually useful, I had to go out to see if I can take more orders and sell those drinks off without the tickets so at the end of the night my til wouldn't be 100 euros off. When I stepped on the terrace, Mark, another owner of this pub pushed me back in:" What the fuck are you doing coming out with an empty tray? Where are your fucking drinks? You think we are paying you for you to be on break all the time?"

Because of the yelling, a couple of customers at the bar left, when I was outside, one of the girls asked me if I was OK, I shook my head and said yes. No, how can I be OK? For being pushed around by everyone, and don't you dare to tell me the service is slow, I don't make the drinks and too often that every customer wants to pay INDIVIDUELLY for their own drink and I ended up holding 10 liters of drinks in one hand and having another hand trying to find the changes for that 50 euro bill only paid for a 3.50 beer! And NO, I was not OK, I had to go to the toilette for the past 2 hours but every time I was going upstairs, Kevin screamed at me:" Down stairs! NOT upstairs!!!!!!!!!" I had been working my ass off since the day I got this job, and I just found out that I was the ONLY full time waitress there. I finished the rest of the orders, sold some drinks without tickets and then, I decided I needed to cry.

Despite Kevin's screaming, I rushed in the restroom. There was a line. I held my head in my hands and my shoulders started to shiver. But I had no tears, I was too angry to cry. I just couldn't stop shaking. After using the toilette, I was back to work again. I almost had a nerve break down when another 5 people tried to pay individually and digging through their pocket, giving me a bunch of 5 cents. I told them that I would be back in a few minutes, but when I was back, they hadn't figured out the tickets yet! HOW!???? I was not supposed to do that because if I did, they could leave without paying. Kevin set up the terrace that day, like every day, setting it up is a war, he only cares about how it could look nice instead of being practical, he set it up the way the waitresses couldn't walk through. Then, he forgot to change the price on the menu and one of the customers asked me to talk to the manager about the price, Kevin told me to told him to fuck off. Another one asked for two glasses of water, he told me to tell her to fuck off and dump the whole liter of water down the sink saying:" Water costs money!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It is certain that he needed to learn other English adjectives, verbs, adverbs and nouns. "Fuck" is a useful word, but don't abuse it like you abuse us, you are wearing it out. I really wished that I had able to record everything on a camera, or steal their videos (they have about 10 cameras in the pub and 4 security guards). I would do anything to put them in public!

My last shift was nothing special, besides that fact that I had to yelled at one client not to touch me 10 times and my friends dropped by and it was really nice to see them. I left around 4:15, and I knew I would never go back, even for a drink. That cherry color wooden counter at the bar would make me sick.

So, today, I dyed my hair, (it is so red right now, makes me happy) I did my laundry, laid on the couch and watched TV. Start school in the morning and start my new job tomorrow night. I still felt my body is falling apart, but I will be fine, I always am.

Simplicemente

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:55:00 +0000

(September 20, 2006 - Wednesday 13:58)

"I want to go to that city, oh I want to go to that city, being there is the wish of my life time; but when I have the time, I don't have the money; when I have the money, I don't have the time..." This was a pop song when I was in junior high, I used to try to sing it all the time but always ended up laughing so hard whilst not able to finish the version. The lyrics seemed ridiculous. That song suddenly popped into my head this afternoon, but I didn't laugh.

I didn't work tonight, they sent me off because I didn't have the right kind of shoes. The dress code requires black shoes and mine have three silver strips on them. I just bought them this afternoon right after school, for work, only for work. While I was walking back to my apartment, a sense of tiredness stroke me, despite that the fact that I didn't have to work today; but I felt so exhausted that I could have collapsed on the street. Thus, I spent a quiet evening home but I was bored. It is funny how that I had an evening off and I had no idea what to do. I sat in front of the TV and ate, watched more TV, ate more pasta, that was all. I should have read the newspaper maybe, I bought them last week and they are still neatly folded on the desk; I didn't even have time to take a glance at the headline. Do I really work on being a journalist, or is it only a city that I could never reach?

I didn't even attend my classes today, for some good excuses. I will leave you to judge. I had to go to two meetings concerning being in some classes as an audition and those procedures took ages. I eventually got the schedules for German and Italian classes and there were still a few political science courses that I was interested in while I had no idea where or when they start. So I went to the International Student Center, they sent me to Registration Office, who sent me to Department offices, who sent me to International Relationship Office, who sent me to another campus... so I took out the map, spent 20 minutes hiking up the hill and found them, the lady worked there sent me to the International Student Office downstairs... when I finally arrived, they closed the door and told me that it is 4:35, and they closed at 4:30. Nobody seemed to be able to answer my question: where can I get the validation of my diploma? So, I needed to go back again tomorrow in hope of catching them during their office hours. Sometimes they don't even open the door during the time they are supposed to be receiving students, so I have to be there when they are not on the phone, not flirting with a colleague, not having a snack, and feeling like doing their job.

Speaking of job. I recall that when I was working at Thor, I used to admire all the smiling people passing by and enjoying their staying; now I am technically job-less and admiring those who have one. At least they don't have worries about paying the rent or for the bread. I am working either 11 hours a day or not working at all. One of my former roommate told me that I still got mails from the old address. How did this happen? I paid 24 euros for them to change my address for 6 month! She is leaving in two days, and my another former roommate seems to be out of reach most of the time, who will get my mails after Thursday? Maybe that is why I never received my convocation for my residence card ( it is soooooooo very important ) or the deposit check from my internet service after I left them my modern. What more can I do to prevent losing my important mails? Finally tonight, I sat down and typed up a letter, addressing to a guy who wouldn't pay me back the 100 euros deposit that I gave him two months ago. I should have done it long time ago, but it is better late than never. Things are so incredibly out of balance, do I make my life complicated, or elements just get chaotic around me? Like my watch, it doesn't matter what kind of watch I wear, or even the time on my cell phone, it always goes faster. I put it 13 minutes faster to initial, but one month later, I ALWAYS find it 16 or even 18 minutes ahead. So, it is not me who control my situation then. Things just get complicated around my existence, and yet, the majority of my life, I have been trying to simply everything.

Or, have I? Wasn't I the one who decided to live in a foreign country? Wasn't I decided to get a job and a better education? The answer is no doubt affirmative, so take it like a man, too many people call me "sir" anyway.

{PS: Half a century ago, Chinese government wanted to simply the language, it took them 30 years to make it happen; French government is trying to simply the legal papers and the procedure ( the goal is to make the legal paper readable for a 14 years old school girl. Why "girl" not a "boy"? Go figure), and according to their progress, I might not to live to see it happen. }

Besides of the bureaucracy, there is phone. A 30 gram silver machine amazingly changes the color of your day. Yes, I confess, I speak much about it. And yes, here is another odd phone call I got, from someone I hadn't spoken for a really long time.

"Hello. How are you lately?"

"Hi..." I should know this voice, but it took me a while to recognize it," I am fine. You?"

"There are two people died while working in the factory. You know that one I was managing."

"Oh..." Should I have at least said:" I am sorry to hear that."???

"I might go to..."

"Oh..." Should I have said again :" I am sorry to hear that too"???

Not sure what the rest of the conversation was about... something on weather and driving... the reception was bad... my accent was bad... blah blah blah.... Why didn't I at least say :" I am sorry to hear that"???

I lit two candles tonight. One for my grandpa, I need some guiding; another for the families that just lost their loved ones, although I don't know them.

"Good night to you, good night to me, good night to the ones I haven't met... simply..." ("Simplicemente" by Zero Assoluto )

Not sure why I bother to do all this postings

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:54:00 +0000

September 25, 2006 - Monday 16:19

Job luck

She waited until no one was around, walked up the stairs, smuggled a note in my right hand, behind the menus. "Go and work at some place else, please. This is NOT a nice place to work. Don't tell others, please don't. And find another job. Good luck."

I thanked her, told her that I was sorry about what happened. She said it wasn't my fault then turned around and left. I put the note into my apron, took out the code strip pretending it was the strip that I was reaching my pocket for. As I was reading the codes on this 3 by 10 plastic board, it wasn't the numbers I registered to my brain.

****************************************************************

It has been raining for 2 days now, kind of rare in this part of the world. Even though it was the weekend, there were very few people sitting on the terrace, which was 60% of the restaurant capacity. An old couple came in, they asked me to sit them on the side of the avenue, I did. There were two tables connected together, so I tore them apart, sat them down, handed them the menus. Boss A. came to me and said:" What are you doing?"

"What?"

"You just sat 2 people down in a 4 people table. What would happen if a group of 4 come in?"

"You join the tables together."

"No, you don't." Yes we do, Boss. M and other waitresses had been telling me that it would be OK to do so. Fine, I said that I wouldn't do it again. I was in no position to argue with my new boss. He wasn't in the good mood that night, like most of nights.

People either don't come in at all, or all of them come at the same time. Nature's law: it is hard to find the balance. When I was receiving a group of 4, they wanted to sit around the door. There were only 2 tables left in that area but none of them was cleaned. So I sat them down and cleaned the tables quickly.

Boss. A. "What are you doing? You NEVER NEVER sat people at the not cleaned table."

"OK." How was I supposed to know that? Do I listen to the boss or the customers? This is my first restaurant waitressing job in this country!

Similar sort of mid-sized friction kept building up through out the night. The minutes went by like days...twaty A. needed to do what the women behind the bars in the University Cafeteria, just find something and be happy.

A German family walked by; they asked me if it would be OK if they just ordered some drinks. Sure, of course. This is a chain store, reminds me of "IHOP", where you can sit down just for a cup of coffee. I sat them down, but I wasn't taking any orders because the machine Pokky wasn't working...anyway, that is another story. The waitress came to take the orders after 10 minutes or so.

"No, you have to order food."

"But she told me that it is OK just to get drinks." The woman said. I went over to the table after I saw the finger pointing at me.

"Tell them that it is not OK to be here if they don't order food."

"Sorry, I think you have to order some food here in order to get the drinks."

"Tell her to get us the drinks and we will leave right away. You told us that it was OK to only drink here."

"Yes I did. This is my second night, my mistake."

Boss A. came over and told them to leave if they were not getting any food. "The bar is next door, we refuse to serve you any drinks while you don't order any food."

"But you can't keep a family waiting and then at the end not giving us anything ..." The argument went on for another 3 minutes, they left in anger. Boss A. yelled at me in front of them. Exactly like I had expected. I said that I wouldn't do it again, turned around, walked back to the hall to return the menus. When I was placing the menus, the German woman came back, she waited until no one was around, walked up the stairs...

10 minutes later, Boss A. decided not to see my face for the rest of the evening: "Punched out, you are going home for the night. Come 10 minutes earlier tomorrow, we need to talk."

"Is everything alright?"

"No. But we will talk about it tomorrow."

If you want to fire me, fire me NOW! How come they didn't have the guts to fire people on the spot? That would be the second time this happening to me during my 3 jobs in this dream town. There was nothing to do in the restaurant, why couldn't we talk about it then? But NOOOOO, they had to keep me guessing all day and all night, they had to keep me hanging in doubts and anger.

So, I went to work tonight, arrived 15 minutes earlier. The boss and I had the talk.

"It has been a week since you work here, it is not normal that you can't do these simple things."

"Yes, I was officially hired on the 17, but I had only 2 shifts, none of them was complete because they sent me home early. I only worked for 5 hours in total."

"I know."

No he didn't.

"I never had any training, and there are some culture differences too..."

"No, it wasn't about the culture differences. (Yes, it was. ) I give you one more chance tonight, if I don't see any improvement. We stop here. Any questions? (yes, why couldn't we speak of this last night?)"

"Yes. I don't know how the Pokky works. Well, I know, but I never got to practice it. The first night Marie was using it and only showed me how it was suppose to work, and last night mine was broken, so I never actually got to touch it."

"You have one chance. ( I don't need your pity chance)"

"OK."

It was such a stupid idea to use a little machine called Pokky to take orders, especially I am the one who usually deals with foreign customers, most of them use English menus and the writings on the machine is in French. We are not allowed to take notes for taking orders. Only machine. Vive the technology. So, eventually, I touched this holy machine tonight and took some orders. But they sent me home after 2 hours because we didn't have enough people coming in. 10 hours a week, I really need another job.

NO, you can't complain that I wasn't walking fast enough. My shoes are super slippery when wet, I fell twice already and it hurt. I don't have the money right now to pay for another pair of black-enough shoes, I just got those for this 10 hours/ week job. The word "training" is not in their dictionary, or the word "management". How would you expect me to know everything the moment you handed me this clown-like uniform?

Is it me? my luck? bosses? location? or any other elements that I haven't realized that had been influencing my jobs? Where do I draw a line between me and money? Where do I draw a line between interesting management and my errors? Where do I draw line to finally decide taking one day off, just one day, no worries on jobs, school, legal paper, money and annoying people? Oh yeah, speaking of which, where are my ear muffs, my roommate ALWAYS had loud conversations at 2AM (now) and swears like a sailor. (I should be the one complaining, not him. I have class in 5 hours!)

September 22, 2006 - Friday 13:28

Men Attack

Two night ago, one of my very dear was going back to UK, we three of us went out for a nice dinner. For the first time in so many months, I dressed up nicely. We finished dinning around midnight and as I was walking back to my apt, two Arabic Italians attacked me in the middle of the street near the park and tried to take my clothes off!!! I pulled out my knief and put it close to one's throat while threathened to cut them open, in different languges, make sure they understand that I KNOW how to cut people open with my swiss army knief.... they backed off, I told them to take a walk and get a life.

Then, when I got to my apt, I was in kind of after shock, you know sometimes when you are in a situation you just react with animal instinct and feel the fear half of hour after the incident. This is typical me.

The same day, I was in cafeteria (OK, a good story starts, a real one), I was standing behind a girl who was talking to the woman behind the prison-like window pane. I was wanting to buy a ticket to eat in the university. After the girl before me left, I stepped in and asked if I can buy a ticket, the women behind the jail glass started yelling at me: "You are not listening to me, I am NOT HAPPY. I just told her that you can't buy just one ticket, you have to buy at least 10 of them.......... blah blah blah...."

Of course that I wasn't listening to her!!!! She was talking to me!!!!! And why, really why on earth wouls I ever talk a slightest interest on the fact that she is not happy? Well, quit your job; take a vacation: have some ince cream, smoke some weed, get laid; go to a movie; ....... just be happy and start doing your job!!! Some people are unbelievable.

There was a man standing behind me as the woman going off about her unhappiness, he then moved forward, maybe he understood that he was going to asking the same question. So, we lunched together, his name is J, from Spain. I rememeber him the first day I was in school, he was in the office next to me and I saw his last name but didn't see his first. It is funny how some people pay much attention about the sourrounding envrionment whilst others don't. Anyway, we spoke of beaches, cinema etc... then,; i went back to my classes and he went home.

Yesterday, I was shopping for black shoes for work, and when I walked out a store he was there!!! He took the wrong bus and ended up at the other side of the town..... think about coincidence!!! We suddenly thought of the same movie (Run Lola Run), what would happen,; what would have been different within seconds of differences. He then took me to a cheap store where I finally found my work shoes and I was invited to dine with his housemates for the evening. We were 10-11 of us!!!! It was so much fun! I spent the last day of summer with a group of cool people. Too bad that I can't go back there tonight although they invited me, I have to work.

Tomorrow, I may go to the guy's house as a surprise to see if I can get my money back, but I would prefer to go with someone. What do you say?

My housemate is driving me nuts though.

"Why the bathroom isn't clean enough?"

"Why the air conditioning wasn't working?"

"Clean the kitchen"

"Try to find someone to buy my laptop."

"Try to find someone to fix my program"

"BLAH BLAH BLAH"

He is like a machine that wouldn't shut up and open the door early in the morning when I was sleeping to ask me stupid questions!!!! And what the hell he was doing in my room all the time? He took all the space in the bathroom and uses way toooo much cologne that the smell escape from bathroom to the living room, to my room with doors closed!!! He kept eating my stuff..... BUT ABOVE ALL; stop asking me to do stuff for you! I don't have any time!!! And I don't owe you this! I alrzeady did him so much favore on money transfering and giving ther rent to the' landloard and talked to them, fix this fix that...... just please LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!

Anyway, this is my bithching for the day, thanks for listening.

I may take a salsa class at school! And I just found out that J. was thinking about taking one too!!!! and Cath!!! Sweet. My schdeule is going to be so full that I won't have any time to listen to my housemate's bullshit. ha!

Oh yeah, remember that guy I was wanting to donate arsenic to?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:52:00 +0000

October 16, 2006 - Monday 14:26

The Hurricane

Despite my efforts of trying to keep in touch with the ones I care, I receive very little news from them. Sure, I confess that my life is less entertaining for the moment: still waiting for that piece of yellow paper that would give me back the rights I deserve in this continent, going to school, trying my best to stay out the apartment, finally complied to get back to the apartment for the bed, and... that is about it. I don't work anymore, so what is my excuse now for being tired all the time?

Rolled out of bed in the early afternoon, stepped into the kitchen for the first time in a couple of days, I needed some coffee. My housemate was only in a piece of towel. (Please, don't ask me what he had been doing in such a sunny morning) "Hey, you know about the Katrina?"

"Uh huh."

"Were you in France or in US when it happened."

"I was still in Oregon."

"You know it was a disaster. The urricaane."

"The hurricane?"

"That is what I said, urricaane. The wind and the water and all...The biggest disaster in the history of US."

"I know what a hurricane is. Have you heard about the earth quake in San Francisco in 1969?"

"That is what I loooooooove about American government! I adore everything Bush does. He's always doing what he believes in and they got the balls to do what they want!!!! Look at the wars!! And they are soooooo helpful, they are rebuilding New Orleans already. If it happened in France, those fuckers wouldn't even know what to do! ... Blah Blah Blah...."

I was absent-minded on purpose not to even hear what he said for the following 2 minutes. I took my espresso out to the terrace. I preferred traffic noises.

I decided to be more informed about current events and start to buy newspapers regularly, just incase the same situation happens again. I wished to be able to tell him the exact dates and numbers of people protested in New Orleans and all other places when Katrina hit; I wished to be able to tell him the details that the saint-like-government ignored the warning and didn't get on to the rescuing when the hurricane happened; I wished to be able to tell him more details on American government and their doings; I wished to tell him that he was French; I wished so many things, and I did nothing, I was completely speechless facing his never-knows-when-to-close mouth. If he didn't have weight problem and was more flexible, he would use his own mouth to complete his routine of self-pleasuring. Come on, turn off the porn for a change, and educate yourself!

"Educate yourself!"? Am I doing it myself? Being one of the spoiled generation, I was used to read news online and now I am very badly informed on current events without internet in the apartment. I must go to library or buy newspapers regularly from tomorrow on.

I liked States. I never regret the time that I spent there and I wish to return someday for a visit. Although I am not in love with everything made in American like my housemate is( house, cars, politics, air-conditioning, porn, porn, porn, women, women, money, money, business, porn, women, business, money...) I miss the simplicity of certain things and a lot of my friends: I miss the stores that open until late (because I am insomniac), coffee shops where I can do my homework with a cup of tea, easy access to computers and internet (there are only 6 computers in the university I am in and I can't even use them because of the program I am in...),less expensive phone calls, longer library hours, cleaner streets and somewhat more efficient work when comes to bureaucracy. However, politic wise, that is another story. I have strong opinions on politics in the countries I lived/live in, which makes it very ironic that I don't really know enough about any of these governments to have a "knowledgeable" argument with another person. I will be working on it. Of course, no government is perfect, and talking about politics sometimes sounds far-fetched because it seems like very few people have the actual and direct impacts on a nation's political tendency. On the other hand, people like me are constantly influenced by whatever is going on in those big shots' heads. A spin of their pens can partially decide that my life is on hold, how much my passport weights, what my identity means, what my possible rights are, how long, or how to get my possible rights, even where to go, what to say and when it is OK to express my emotions. While people like my housemate (he's got duo nationalities) voted for those big shots who in part made me leave for France. Now I am at the another end of the Pacific ocean and I have to listen to his speeches which were exactly the ones I tried to avoid by leaving the States?

It is still sunny in Nice. The temperature is about 22C during the day time. I went to the beach today and the sea was as clear-blue as usual. I heard in the temperature dropped down to 3C in Austria already. Maybe I should just feel lucky just to be here. There are so many things I can enjoy without politics, aren't there? Play dumb and ignore some human rights for a change? hmm... still worry about my golden residence permit in such a beautiful environment... Oh yeah, I went to Monte-Carlo with two friends yesterday. We had a perfect afternoon. Because of the bleached water in the swimming pool, my hair is now bright orange!!!!

Gypsy professionelle

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:51:00 +0000

October 25, 2006 - Wednesday 00:42

Gypsy professionelle

Je suis sur un point où je ne sais ni où aller, ni quoi faire. Je n'ai besoin de rien qu'un(e) ami(e).

Mes histoires sont plus compliquées que hier. J'ai démangé deux fois le jour avant hier. Lorsque j'ai reçu l'appelle d'un mec qui m'avait promit de studio dans Vieux Nice, il a changé ses idées et dit non, avec des excuses de besoin d'une cautionner. Je n'en ai pas. Bon, je suis donc allée au internet café et le type m'a donné un numéro de téléphoner pour appeler car son amie cherchait un colocataire pour sa chambre. Je lui ai appelé, et la dame Tunisienne a apparu tellement sympa au début que je me suis décidée de déménager chez elle. J'ai pris toutes mes valises et les portées dans la chambre qui était vraiment trop petite. Lorsque j'ai eu deux valises chez T. un ami, et il m'aidait porter mes valises, il n'est resté que 5 minutes. Après qu'il est parti, la dame m'ad dit qu'il était interdit d'avoir homme dans l'apt parce qu'elle voulait pas ses voisins pensaient il y a des prostitues chez elle, elle m'a aussi dit que je devrais payer la moitié de tous : électricité, l'eau, gaz etc. et je pouvais seulement me doucher deux fois par semaine !! En plus, elle a dit qu'il faut faire attention lorsqu'il y a des noirs qui habitent dans ce bâtiment ! Cette chambre est trop petite, il n'y avait qu'une armoire et il est remplit de ses affaires.

Deux heures après que j'ai démangé, j'ai le quitté. Je suis retournée chez ce mec qui se branle. Je voulais dormir chez une amie et j'étais là justement pour avoir ma caution. Cependant, il m'a dit qu'il pouvait signer les papiers pour mes cautions ? Même si je ne comprenais pas ses raisons, moi, je voulais ce studio tellement que j'ai dit oui.

Donc, j'ai rappelé ce mec et j'ai laissé deux messages, il n'a jamais me téléphoner. J'ai donc caché mon numéro de portable et il a raccroché. Il ne voulait pas me parler, ça c'est trop chair. Communque, hier soir, le mec se branle et moi et mon « nouveau » propriétaire ont singé le contrat et le bail et tout ça. Il m'a dit qu'il me donnerait la clé aujourd'hui et que je pouvais lui payer le loyer déjà et le dépôt en même temps. En attendant, j'ai dormi chez une copine hier soir.

Le mec se branle m'a dit qu'il voulait rester chez moi après que j'ai lé clé jusqu'au il démange vendredi. J'ai dit oui, mais je sais que s'il dort chez moi, je dormirai ailleurs. Ce matin, j'ai reçu un texto de mon nouveau propriétaire qu'il voulait plus me donner le studio. Pas de rasions précises.

Hier, quand nous trois visitions le studio, le propriétaire dit : « Mais vous savez que s'elle ne paye pas son loyer, nous allons vous chercher. C'est vous le cible. Elle est chinoise, elle peut très bien partir en Chine sans rien payer et on n'a même le droit d'entrer dans son studio. Réfléchissez ce que vous aller signer. »

Maintenant, j'ai une partie de valise chez T, une partie chez l'amie avec qui je suis restée hier soir, une partir chez ce mec qui se branle tout le temps, et une partie chez moi. Je n'ai ni papier, ni toit, ni argent. Cela fait une semaine je ne suis pas allée en cours, même les cours d'allemand et natation. Je n'ai pas encore obtenu ma caution de 300 euros de mon ancien propriétaire. Je ne sais ce que je ferai.

Je suis fatiguée de tout. Toutes ces histoires de trouver un toit simplement et obtenir mon titre de séjour qui n'a pas de l'air de venir. Tout le monde est occupé, je me isole dans mon petit coint imaginé et essaye de me dire que peut important que mes expériences soient positives ou négatives, E est toujours plus grand que zéro.

Human Behavior

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:49:00 +0000

May 10, 2007 - Thursday 21:48

humain behavior

I was awakened by the barking of the dog. I don't like this dog at all. He barks constantly about nothing at all. Just like Virus. My housemates talk to the dog with a funny voice, like the one some people use to talk to babies. Why would they talk to an enfant or an animal in such absurd manner? Are they attempting to "remind" them that we are the intelligent ones and we have to lower our standard to talk to them? As if some shopkeeper here saw me entering the store, automatically asked me :" Speak you English?" I smiled and said:" Not a word dude."

People are fucking unbelievable, I was not working yesterday but I biked up to the hostel because I needed to get away from the basement. It is truly amazing how I still got yelled at while I sleep only half of a week in the basement. The Virus swan open my door and yelled at me for using the coffee. AM gave it to me! It is fucking coffee! 3 euros can last for an entire month. I have had it and I really need to get the fuck out of this place. I am looking for a new lace to stay but it is going to impossible because it is high season and I only need it for another 3 months. Really, I will be so happy one day when I move out of this town. Well, just be out of that fucking basement will make me happy. If I had a place to go right now, if my work is done so miraculous perfect and they would grant me a room, even a bed in the hostel, I would be grateful, oh yes, where was I? If I had a place to go right now, I would tell the Virus to fuck off and that fact that he is a piece of stingy shit! Why do I always have problems with housing? I need my own apartment, period. One day, I will have it, when I have a steady job, a career, I will be able to afford my own space. No more basement, no more random voyeurs peeking through glasses, fuck them all! I will have my very own place!

D wasn't there then, he was in his apartment next door. I saw his motorbike and I heard the music playing when I put my bike in the garage. I hoped he wouldn't be mad at me for staying there while not on duty. I called him yesterday morning to see if everything was alright the night before. He said it was OK. and he said that I hadn't taken out the trash. That wasn't true, I did, but there were people staying in the salon until almost midnight, I wasn't going to take out the trash again. Maybe I should do it right before closing so I don't get yelled at again for work. This is so tiring to get yelled at everywhere, I have no place to go.

About 30 minutes after I got there, my co-worker M told me that it was better if I don't hang out in the place I work. Yes, he was kicking me out. Fine. I packed up and walked out. While going to the garage to get my bike, D opened the door, we said hi to each other. He didn't even ask why I was there in a non-working day. I didn't really expect anything more, we are supervisor and employee. We are not friends.

I thus biked all the way back to the basement again. I spent the night watching "Men in tights" and some other random videos on the Internet. I couldn't concentrate on my homework.

vive la france

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:46:00 +0000

June 19, 2007 - Tuesday 02:13

Vive la France

Last week the super market called and asked me to come in today, so i did, and then they fired me. So basically they asked me to come in so they can tell me that I didn't work there anymore. Then, I went to the school to pick up my diploma, there was a note on the door saying;" I am absent for a few minutes, wait or come back later." I waited for 30 minutes and I had to go to another job! So I thought that I could finally sleep in for one day but i had to wake up early this morning and biked to shcool for nothing and then rushed to super market to know that I didn't need to there at all. Now I am at another job, well, the only one left and I am leaving this one very soon too. I am dying to leave this place, for good.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:46:00 +0000

August 26, 2007 - Sunday 14:08

pin

Tu es un pin

il me fait mal

de te toucher

mais j'en ai fait.

Tu te tiens à

l'écart de moi

toujours saignant

car je suis tombée

comme une

goûte brisée

avant, devant

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:44:00 +0000

August 26, 2007 - Sunday 14:09

avant, devant

Je n'avais jamais possédé

tel désir de possèder

la nuit qui chute

ma voix qui chute

mon corps qui chute

Pourtant je suis bien là

je suis bien là

je me disais

je me mentais

Je lâche

je lâche

il faut que je lâche

je me disais

en savant que je ne me mens pas

cette fois

Je m'assois dans un foule

les yeux fermés

en entendant les gens qui passent

mon esprit m'échappe

ses paroles me trahient

Il faut que je revienne

à l'état blasé

comme si rien n'est jamais arrivé

Lame dans la main

sang coule le long mon bras

mais c'est moi qui devrais être

celle de coeur léger

celle de poco-preoccupare

Il faut que je revienne

où j'étais

où j'ai toujours été

avant lui

avant l'été

avant la folie

avant la douleur

devant mon coeur

devant mon corps fragile

Very scattered notes on the Intern...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:39:00 +0000

October 11, 2007 - Thursday 17:43

Being There

Penultimate day for the Internship, I remain invisible. My boss didn't show up this morning, I ended up browsing the net for hours and I continue to do so for the afternoon. The assistant told me that he would be in this afternoon, I said ok, like I really cared. What difference does it make? I don't need the key to enter the office because my PC is in the editing room and I have nothing to do besides being here. There is no montage this afternoon anyway, I am designed to be idle.

Tired of waiting, waiting for others to tie up their ends. I have done my part and now the most frustrating moments have arrived. I don't mind working, I don't like to wait. I should be content, but I don't want to lie to myself. The fall is here, even winter began to give signs. I like to stroll down the streets with gigantic trees on the side walk. Some of them are completely red now. I run my boots through the fallen leaves.I dress in black although my life is nowhere close to be monotonic. Why such misleading?

Good journalism offers the whole pictures and different aspects of one event, not just taking pieces from here and there and sell them on the Internet. I am mute and invisible in my Internship but I knowhow manipulative media is and the importance of checking more than one source to obtain any kind of information.

In a slightly more personal side, I have given up certain anticipations. There are people I shall stop waiting and maybe should not have trusted in the first place. But why does it matter now? The reason have changed, old leaves have fallen. I stroll down the riverside on the fallen leaves.

------------------------------

October 3, 2007 - Wednesday 09:51

Internship...

Manly weekend. That means currywurst and French fries with Mayonnaise. 7 hours of sitting in a sports bar with beer (endless beer), plume shots, apple shots and 3 soccer matches in a roll. On Saturday, the final of World Cup Woman's took place in Shanghai: Germany vs. Brazil. Germany won at 2:0 and you can imagine the atmosphere in such environment where soccer is a religion. Smoke. The France 2 studio is nicotine saturated, my hostel is nicotine saturated, and of course, the sport bar is no exception. I am having a sore throat and I reckon this has everything to do with my fuming surroundings and maybe the weather didn't help either. There is only one toilette and shower in the hostel (guest house) for more than 32 rooms. So, cross your fingers when you need the bathroom. You need a key to get in the bathroom, and there is no toilette paper.

I started the Internship yesterday. Until yesterday afternoon I didn't know there is no time limit in this job. People come in about 9 or 10 in the morning and they leave when they are done with their reports, which means 8 or 9 at night. I left about 7PM last night because we finished the projects earlier. It is amazing how much it takes to produce a one minute and 47 seconds news. Going through all the tapes, cutting images, mixing sounds, translating etc. The precision is down to mini. Seconds, for example, the first image is 2:16 SECONDS and the text goes with it has to be the same length, so choosing the vocabulary is crucial and the accuracy of translation is impressive. It is necessary to understand every word one says and play psychologist. Some videos can't be on national TV because of the interviewer's way of speaking or the position that s/he is standing. It took them 4 hours to produce a 1 minute 47.21 second news and I had the images in my head all night because we watched them over and over again.

Many media companies share this building in the center of Berlin, including Arte, RAI, CinePlus. There are at least hundreds of people working in this building but no one knows anyone else. Since ever body's got a deadline, even crossing the hallway becomes jogging and we nod head when we encounter another person but no words are exchanged. When I was here at 8AM yesterday and I asked a woman France 2 was which floor, she told me that she didn't know what France 2 was. She works downstairs for a law firm.

Lunch time is… well, coffee break really. We take lunch after finishing one project, it matters not how long it takes. We had our lunch at about 2:30 in the afternoon and we were back in the office at 3PM. 45 Minutes for lunch max. Reminds me to go to supermarket to pick up some food, I forgot about it again last night and I didn't have time for breakfast this morning.

Tomorrow is Independence Day, so we have to be here at 7AM for the direct live news. Usually every Friday we have a direct from the studio here at 7AM. They are going out for some interviews on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I am tagging along. And, there is no real weekend, if you watch news on Sunday or Monday, there is someone working on Saturday and Sunday.

Gosh I am hungry…

Illusion?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:36:00 +0000

Originally posted on January 25, 2008 - Friday 15:59

Living with a ... well ... you know.

I am not really sure what is going on anymore and everytime I think the fact I might be getting on a train going back to France my heart just sank.

I think he wouldn't be going insane if I told him that I would like to go back, he would even take me to the train stattion probably. But I don't know if I really want that right now. It is so hard to think about leaving someone wheny ou are sitll in love with them.

I kept having this image that everythig would end where it started, at the main train station in Berlin, and I would be crying watching his face going away as the train pulls out of the station. I don't really want to think about it but these images carved in my head and I can't get them out.

I looked at him this morning, the only time he is sober and I don't know if I am strong enough right now to leave him. I realize that if I really wish to go away i could, just get a ticket and leave.I have the options, I have no courgae, I have no idea what is going to happen or how I feel besides the sorrow and the pain. What seems to be a rational choice turned out to be the hardest one I have to make.

It is difficult to continue to trust someone once found out he has been lying about certain things, for him, about drinking if course. I asked him last night if it was possible for him to not drink for one or two days and he would get to choose the dates, he said this weekend because he had to driving around.

I thought about the possibily of getting another flat and just live my life then, block out the things I know, block out the sentiments I am holding right now; we will be just couple in names; but I am not a machine, I am not able to stop the feeling right away and just pretend nothing ever happened, pretend that I didn't love. I did.

It is better to have loved and then lost it than never love at all. As if the life is pulling a prank at me and I am fucking trapped in my own pathetic emotions; while my entire happiness revolves his soberness; while I am living with a ticking bomb everyday; I think I have forgotten what happiness is.

"They don't change." the logical and statistical statement would prove it. I know that it is almost impossible to even think about that he'd change espacially he doesn't think he has a probolem; he doesn't believe in rehabs; he doesn't go to see his shrink and part of his business, supposedly involes heavy drinking. If I were more rational, I might have left; I guess there is always small part of me is hanging on that tiny ray of hope that he'd change one day and we will look back on these days and laugh about it. Or am I simply to naive to realize this is just sheer illusion?

A rose is a rose

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:35:00 +0000

It is going to be minus 7 Celsius tomorrow.

It feels like "real' winter just started kicking in, and the snow storm that the weather man has been warning us about for the past three weeks might finally happen. I sit at the corner of an office watching S running back and forth with files, cheerfully speaking on the phone and to the others in the office, stepping out for smoke-break every twenty minutes. Woke up in a foul mood this morning, probably because I didn't really sleep last night. I have been invisible since the alarm clock went off at 7:30AM. It is Saturday.

"What has changed?" Someone asked me a few days ago.

"The weather."

"What are you waiting for?"

"A miracle."

After almost fortnight of ethanol-free, a bell tolled in my head as we got into the car last night. "I am going to get a couple of beer for me. No fun to drink in public."

I said nothing.

"Are you shocked?"

"No."

"You look shocked."

"Do I?"

"You act so strange sometimes. You drank yesterday."

"I had half of a glass of white wine while waiting for my take-out food." -- I had a half of a glass, it wasn't wine.

"And you heard me complaining about this?"

"No."

Another voice popped in my head:"Do you like alcohol-free S.?"

"I like alcohol-free S."

"Do you drink yourself?"

"Occasionally."

"How would you expect him to be alcohol-free?"

"What is the difference between driving manually and putting it into auto-pilot?"

"What?"

"The auto-pilot one doesn't know how to stop manually."

"What?"

To prevent myself from having another "accident", I jumped straight into the shower after we got into the flat. I hate the sound when the cap being cracked open by a bottle opener, or a lighter, or another bottle of beer, or whatever. I heard nothing under the shower; I smelt the cigarette smoke coming under the bathroom door; I stayed in the shower as long as I could, told myself it was under the term of "m-o-d-e-r-a-t-i-o-n-" when someone took one liter of 5% alcohol, it was Friday night; he never drank and drove; he hadn't been drinking at all for 13 days... but why this rotten feeling in my stomach?

Lying on my tummy under the blanket, I pretended to read. He walked in and sat in front of TV for half an hour before going to bed. Nothing more happened. My never-ending-shower has given him time to finish half a liter and one cigarette; I found the other bottle sitting in the fridge. But I didn't sleep last night. Why didn't I sleep last night?

If the withdraw syndrome ever happens, wouldn't it be at the beginning instead of two weeks after? He had exhibited no freak-outs or shaking; we had gotten along better than ever, so why this one bottle of beer threw me off the balance?

I fear this is the end of his whim and the alcohol-over-saturated S will be back in no time, maybe even this afternoon; I fear my next "accident" would worsen the case; I fear my thoughts of leaving would continue to grow; I fear the miracle that I have been anticipating would never come.

A text message was sent to me :" ... a rose is a rose is."

It is almost the end

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:33:00 +0000

Done with the sad Winter and rainy Spring
I am stepping into passionate summer
but I still live in a world of speculation
for you say that you need me
that trees are purple and sky orange

"You have become more understanding"
I did not protest your words
and keep on smiling
for the only change is that
I have become more apathetic
developed the obligation of stay
discovered the hobby of pretending asleep

from time to time
the inner me peeked out through my tired skin
I then put on another layer of coat
because it is almost the end
and these are parts of me
are to be sheerly reserved
to me

(Originally posted on June 10, 2008 - Tuesday 13:31)

Mislead

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:32:00 +0000

I ask her to go,
"I shall miss you dearly but
for your own well-being.
Leave."
but she wants to stay
with a high price to pay
anger spills out of her
in stillness
she doesn't listen to her intuition

I would cherish you
like no other
why the esoteric look on your face
I possess the map
to find the missing piece
yet I am not courageous enough
suppose the answer is what I have been afraid of
so I continue to be lost
in your melancholic smile
so I let you continue to lead me
mislead me

(originally posted on June 23, 2008 - Monday 18:39)

Random Stuff in Aug.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:30:00 +0000

I found myself wide awake at 3AM. That was it, my on-average-2-hours-a-night sleeping pattern slowly crept back and left me staring at the ceiling for hours. I ate too much, didn't drink enough, tried to read a book but my mental state was nowhere close to register words. Someone told me "It's like an elastic ball bouncing back and forth." He meant something else, but such statement applies to my insomnia too. Because of the drastic weather change, I coughed a bunch while awake at night. "You should drink more tea with lemon, if not, make sure you write down your will before tomorrow." P. said -- Cheers mate.

Met up with J. for coffee yesterday, hadn't seen him for a couple of weeks. He looked pale behind thick sun glasses in an indoor cafe.
"How are you?" I asked him.
"In your opinion?"
"Have you tried to go to school? It has been more than two months."
"No. I don't feel like doing anything at all. Already I made an effort to come out to see you."

Dr. Cox: Nothing ever changes. The artist formerly known as Prince is still just Prince, my ex-wife is still pretty much my wife, Grey's Anatomy always wraps up every episode with some cheesy voice-over that ties together all of the story lines, which incidentally is my least favorite device on television, Newbie continually will try to violate my no-touching policy... (Looks around) ...and Republicans will forever try to raise...

"And you? How are you holding up? The trip to Paris didn't sound good."
"I am holding it up. I spent Wednesday lying in bed and being angry at everything, but that was my break-down day. I am back to my normal life again."
"You put back your mask you mean?"
"If you wish."
"But you don't wear your mask with me. I am happy about it."
"Be happy."

Mom called and told me that she hadn't been sleeping because she could not get the paper for me. I said one insomniac in the circle was enough, and we were pulling the strings here. Things will finally work out, it takes time. I choose to spend a lot of time in solitude: only to clean the flat, fold the laundries, organize documents, watch "Scrubs" and check the forecast. I have more than two suitcases now because of some new papers, and an entire liter of unopened Johnnie Walker Red Label. I am not a destructive person, just yet to be anywhere close to being constructive.

(originally posted on August 13, 2008 - Wednesday 00:17)

Kodak Moment

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:26:00 +0000

Windy today, you asked your friend to offer me a ride home, I said that I rather walk, for I was shaking with ire, I needed to walk it off.

Early morning, you said that we would surely go to INS at 10AM, then after 4 hours, you changed your mind, for your clients wanted more money from their ware fare. "We will go tomorrow. I have the whole morning booked for you." I smashed a glass against the wall.

Late afternoon, you called and said that we were meeting a lawyer tomorrow night. "Why? Aren't we going tomorrow morning?" "No, I might have an interview with the press." But my case is fucking a lot more urgent than any client of yours!

You showed me a stack of paper from the lawyer, trying to prove that I would be able to stay for sure.

You asked me to get a coffee from your office kitchen but I hate your kitchen, where empty alcohol bottles occupy every corner.

Your secretary wondered why I have grown thinner. "Why don't you eat more?"

Because it is not about food. I eat constantly from 3AM to 8PM, I eat more than usual, I eat more than most of the people. It is because I am at the edge of a breakdown, I stare at the ceiling for 10 hours a night, I am soaked in anger 24/7, I can't stand the wait, I don't want to have my case depended on your clients' greediness, or how much ethanol you pour in your body; because I scream in the middle of the street, and my period lasts two weeks...

"Aber wir haben uns."
Wir haben uns-- that is the best solace you can give?

"Ich habe dich lieb."
"Ich habe Toilettepapier gekauft."--I was never known as a romantic person.

"Wir schaffen das, weil du meine bist."
But when? And I don't feel like having a Kodak moment right now.

(Originally posted September 5, 2008 - Friday 02:24)

Margin

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 15:56:00 +0000

Considering the sleepiness and tiredness I bore, I headed for bed as early as 9pm after a hot shower. I thought without taking sleeping pills would work this time, well, it didn't. I rolled out of bed after an hour.

The online course that I am taking has begun this morning. Our first assignment is a culture and current event quiz followed by a syntheses of 1000 words on pile of 48 page document constructed on various journalistic sources. I feel a bit overwhelmed: running between the classes I am auditing, the classes I am officially registered and the online that prepares me to get into concours this summer, and of course, looking for a job on the side. I shouldn't whine though, education is a privilege.

We skipped winter and spring this year, just when we thought that we fell right into summer cold weather arrived this morning and I have been freezing at school because I wore summer clothes. Despite the caffeine I overdosed today, I almost fell asleep in all my classes and I didn't even hear when the teacher asked me a question. Where did these tiredness come from?

Two schools cashed my checks and my bank account missed a digit over night. Do I look for a job now or concentrate on my homework hoping to stay in Europe longer? In my methodology class, I was drawing on the margin of the notebook: a margin between fantasy and reality.

I dreamt of France for a long time and I believed this country stored my happiness, like what we see in movies: people are nice and relaxed, in the countryside, we would dine with a big family on a long table on Sundays having conversations and red wine came from a vineyard that is 15 minutes walk from the house. I fancied continuing my studies in a Master's program, working in a local cafe over the weekend and shopping in farmer's market while knowing everyone in town. A simple life.

Come say if we are comfortable in our own skin, we would be happy no matter where we are.

I am not a unfriendly person meeting too many unfriendly people since my arrival in this country of love. I am not happy where I live because the landlord lady's boyfriend gave me problems every possible chance he could get; I don't want to go to school because the program I am officially in annoys me as I am not learning anything new; I am not in a Master's program because of some unknown reasons that wasn't explained on my refusal letter while I was trying to get into last year of BA in English; I bike everyday to school with drivers randomly double park on the streets and never use blinkers whilst fearing to slam into any car in any given moment or being rammed over by one; police didn't do anything about the injustice experiences I had; the immigration officers messed up my resident card every time; I was refused of housing because of my nationality 4 times; I couldn't find a job for a long time and I made only 2 French friends in a year and a half. And I wonder why I am not comfortable in my own skin? Why I don't like where I am and what I am doing?

Of course, there isn't paradise to be found anywhere. I am not looking for a perfect land where racism or complexity of life doesn't exist. I simply wish to be somewhere different, wish to leave the known evil for an unknown one. Meanwhile, I have so much more privileges comparing to the ones who never got the chance to get out the country, especially the ones who are a lot more talented and knowledgeable then me. Well, am I simply spoiled?

While pacing back and forth on such simple questions, I am hoping the light at the end of the tunnel shall shine soon, on my path, on my mind.

Lettre de motivation for McDonald

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 15:53:00 +0000

Dear Sir/Madame,

I have never before considered working for your company. In fact, I am in the process of seeking an anti-globalization organization that would prevent companies like yours from exploiting workers, giving customers high cholesterol and poisoning the younger generation. However, I could be totally wrong. As a semi-educated person, I've learned to question authority, question the information that I receive from diverse media. What if the working environment in your company is as great as advertised? What if you are actually providing the public with organic and quality foods? If so, I would never be able to forgive myself for the prejudgments I made and the chance I missed to serve the public with such a wonderful agency. Therefore, please give me a chance to prove myself wrong. I shall work as hard as I can, I will fry the potatoes until they are golden brown; I will even put extra mayonnaise in Big Macs at the customer's request.

Thank you in advance, enjoy your freedom fries and I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,

Someone who needs to pay the rent in 72 hours

Sepia Tainted

An explanatory note to the mass postings tonight

The last one ...

heading south (part 1)

Heading South (From Normandy to the rotten part of the country)

Welcome to France

Working in that fucking slavary bar!

Oh yeah, this is IMPORTANT

Simplicemente

Not sure why I bother to do all this postings

Oh yeah, remember that guy I was wanting to donate arsenic to?

Gypsy professionelle

Human Behavior

More small posts when I was doing the Concours (pinocchio and Orange)

vive la france

Pin

avant, devant

Very scattered notes on the Intern...

Illusion?

A rose is a rose

It is almost the end

Mislead

Random Stuff in Aug.

Kodak Moment

Margin

Lettre de motivation for McDonald