keeping up with amy

2012-01-06T09:25:00.000-08:00

So very much has happened in the year and a half since I've written on this blog.

Most recently, my father passed away 10 days before Christmas and I spent the first ever Jan. 4 wishing happy birthday to a deceased parent. I've known his early death was inevitable for the past 20 years, and I've known it was even more so in the last 2 years since he slipped and fell and never really recovered from it. The Huntington's disease really took its toll on Dad, until all he could really do was grunt and smile. But at least he was still smiling.

I was so happy to see so much family at the funeral in Cincinnati, and to see some unexpected friends as well. Being an atheist, it was odd to take part in a church service to help everyone else mourn, and not only to be present there, but to participate. Things not to think about when you're carrying your father's urn down the aisle of a church: Damn, this is heavier than I thought. Don't drop it. Don't trip up the stairs to the alter. You'll never get to walk down another aisle with Dad again. Everyone is watching you. Some of these people probably haven't seen you since you hit puberty. They probably wonder who you are. You are a fraud. You shouldn't be here in this place with these priests and those alter girls leading you up this aisle. Dad isn't in heaven. Or hell. He just isn't anymore. He's in this bronze jar, in your hands.

That was probably the hardest thing I've done in life. Recognize the weight of my father's ashes and his absence at a moment of spectacle that I really didn't want to be a part of. But I did it for my family. Performed my mourning when all I really wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry. And my Uncle Den, who has been the one to take care of all the nasty things that need taking care of (money, paperwork, funeral arrangements), he performed as he has too many times before, for father Richard, mother Anna, and brother Rick before this time, with humor and tears:

Thoughts on Tim

December 29, 2011

First of all, I want to thank all of you for being heretoday to celebrate Tim’s life. Certainly, those of us who loved him will miss him dearly, but the wayTim lived is deserving of celebration.

I know that I cannot do justice to what Tim’s life meant.But hopefully with a few comments and stories I can remind those of us thatknew him why we loved him, and with those same comments and stories introduceTim to those of you who did not know him.

The first impression everyone had of Tim was, “What a niceguy!” As you got to know him, yourealized he wasn’t just being polite. He actually was that nice guy—a genuinely pleasant man you wanted to bearound.

In the interest of a truthful story, however, I need toadmit that eventually you did find out Tim wasn’t a soft, push over kind of aguy because he did inherit equal parts of Dad’s Irish temper and Mom’s German righteousness. If he disagreed with you, he would letyou know.

When I would take him to the St. X basketball games, I wouldset him up in his own chair at the front of the bleachers on the stage. He needed the chair because his backcould no longer deal with sitting on those bleachers. It wouldn’t take long for that Irish temper and Germanrighteousness to show itself when he expressed his opinions about the officials’calls—those around him knew he was there.

You didn’t have to be with Tim long to hear him express hispride in his daughters. Whenever I would take him to the many appointments hehad, the small talk from nurses and others would eventually include questionsabout his family. Immediately hewould comment on his two daughters, Alysa and Amy. He took pride in the college educations of both. Tim wouldbe sure to describe both Alysa’s family and her independence as well as Amy’sprofessional skills and advancement. His comments were obviously brimming withpride.

When the grandchildren came along he loved to talk aboutthem. He enjoyed being thegrandfather, and his collection of grandchildren pictures in his condo showedthat pride.

Tim lived independently for a long time. Those of you familiar with the hazardsof Huntington’s disease realize how much of an accomplishment that can be. He valued that independencetremendously. Being the worry wartthat I am, I asked him at one point, “Tim, will you tell me when you can’t dothis by yourself.” Tim was honestwith me about most things, but sadly on this topic he held back. The results of his holding back werenot good.

Tim loved golf. During his healthy years he became a very good golfer. Certainly one of the things Tim likedmost about living in Hilton Head for the years he lived there was that he couldplay golf practically year round. I remember on a visit there driving him to “his golf course.” Everyone there knew him and greeted him as the regular he was, “Hello,Mr. Martin, glad to see you here today.” After he moved back to Cincinnati, I would take him golfing. By this time the effects of the HD wereobvious. His gait was unsure andhis balance was suspect. On thetee area he would bend over to place the ball on the tee and you would want tograb hold of him because you knew he couldn’t possibly keep himself upright. But somehow he would get the ball on thetee. Then he would address theball, and you still couldn’t believe he could possibly stand still long enoughto hit the ball. But somewhere onthat backswing I swear an angel breathed stillness into that shaking body andthe ball would take flight as if all was right with the world. Then he would stagger back to the golfcart, and I would secretly wonder at what he had just done. When my schedule didn’t allow me to gowith him, I would drop him off at Miami Whitewater Golf Course before I went towork. He would spend all day at the golf course, and then I would pick him uplater on my way home. I think, being on a golf course was Tim’s preview ofheaven. Eventually though, the swing would leave him, as it must, and hequietly stopped asking to go golfing.

Tim also liked to fish. For twenty years a group of us, family and friends, made atrip to Lake Erie to go walleye fishing. More than once Tim would win the prizefor the biggest fish. But one of mymemories of Tim on Lake Erie involved Tim and sunscreen. Tim was very fair skinned and would sunburneasily. One year, as big brother, Iwarned him he better put on that sunscreen because he was turning red. His Irish came up and he told me hedidn’t need his mother taking care of him. Well, as things would go on that same trip Tim became seasick from the rocking of the boat. Within minutes his red complexion turned green. I told him he had curedhis sunburn even though he had to hang his head over the side of the boat. Hedidn’t see the humor at the time.

Tim was the main character in the all-time funniest homevideo never recorded. This storyinvolved a softball game. A bunchof family put together a softball team to play in a small weekend tournament,and we needed Tim to play. Hewould be the tenth player. Tim wasa very good softball outfielder with a rifle of an arm. By this time though he was past hisprime, and he was told by his family, “Tim, you can’t play. You will get hurt.” Well, the competitive male pride tookover and Tim said, “Don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen. I’m going to play.”

You guessed it; you know exactly what happened. Playing the outfield, Tim pulled ahamstring and couldn’t run. We hadno subs, so we convinced Tim he could trade places with the catcher. We told him, “Catchers never run. There’snothing to do. You will be fine.” Again, you guessed it. At a crucial time there was a play at the plate with a throwcoming from the outfield to Tim. Tim, standing stiff and straight because hecouldn’t bend his leg, stepped out on the plate to catch the ball as the baserunner approached from third. Thethrow from the outfield was a one bounce throw to Tim. The ball bounced at justthe wrong angle and bounced up to hit Tim in a place that we really shouldn’tname here in church. When the ballhit Tim, he let out a loud “oomph” and doubled up forward just a split secondbefore the runner slammed directly into him causing Tim to let out another loud“oomph,” followed by Tim rolling over backwards in a somersault and ending upon his seat leaning up against the back stop. The rest of us watching all of this used all of ourself-control to stifle our reaction.

Let me end by highlighting the most important aspect ofTim’s life—his courage. When aperson is told of his diagnosis of Huntington’s disease, he knows what he isfacing. There is not going to be ahappy ending. Tim knew the future. He knew there was no stopping the inevitabledecline in his physical abilities and the unstoppable degeneration of hismental faculties. He did his part for HD by signing up for the local HD researchstudies. But more importantly thanthat, he told me that he saw Dad become angry and mean as Dad spiraled downwardwith his HD, but he would not do that. He said to me as long as I have a choice to be nice to people and achoice to be happy I am going to do that. And even though Tim had his bad moments when that Irish andGerman temperament came out, but he held true to that promise to the end. He smiled at his nurses when a smilewas about the only movement he could muster. His example of dealing with the tough hand he was dealt isan inspiration to me and a life’s lesson we can all take with us as we leavethis celebration of his life.

Tim is now in a place where all of his drives are in thefairway, and all of his approach shots roll to the cup,and all of his putts fall no matter the contour of the green.

Look at the back of the program. Look at those smiles. That is the Tim we celebrate today.

Socially Working Out

2010-04-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

I've joined SocialWorkout.com recently, and I'm taking part in the Million Minute Month. I'm enjoying the sense of community, the positive feedback on workout posts both short and long, and the immediate goals that the MMM challenge presents. If you are looking for motivation, I'd recommend you join, too.

A Meditative Jog

2010-04-17T11:24:00.003-07:00

A Meditative Jog

Posted using ShareThis

A Meditative Jog

2010-04-17T11:24:00.001-07:00

A Meditative Jog

Posted using ShareThis

HDSA Hoop-A-Thon

2010-04-11T13:29:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, my family and I would participate every year in a fundraising event for the Huntington's Disease Society of American Ohio Valley Chapter. We would collect pledges from friends and family, help setup tables, cones, balloons, etc., and shoot free throws until we dropped (or for 10 minutes, whichever came first).

I am no longer in Ohio, and therefore cannot participate in this event, but I just thought I would share with all of my friends a bit about it. It is taking place this year at the Mercy Healthplex on Saturday, April 17th. So, if you are in Cincinnati, and you'd like to stop by and show some support, it would be greatly appreciated.

I would also like to share with you this letter that I received from my uncle, Den Martin, who is participating in the event this year, like every year. He has been a great support to my family in our time of need (the brother he Tim he mentions in his letter is my dad), and I'm wishing him the great luck in shooting his heart out during his 10 minutes at this year's event.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Friend,

As you are probably aware, I have worked for many years to support the search for a cure or treatment for Huntington's Disease, an hereditary disease that affects my family. One of the ways that I have done this is by working each spring as one of the co-chairs of the Huntington Disease Association, Ohio Valley Chapter Hoop-a-thon. The Hoop-a-thon is a free throw shooting fund raiser in which shooters gather pledges from donors for the free throws that they make. In addition to organizing the Hoop-a-thon, I have participated in the Hoop-a-thon as a shooter.

Recently, the need for additional progress in finding the cure for HD has become dramatically more personal. In my immediate family, I have experienced the passing of my younger brother Rick from HD. I have also seen my two brothers, Tim and Steve, and my sister, Mary, diagnosed with HD and begin the physical and mental deterioration that is inevitable with this incurable disease.

Through the years I have seen my father and 3 of his sisters pass on as a result of HD. In addition more than a few cousins have succumbed to HD. Some of you who are family know these stories all too well. For those of you not familiar with HD the path for an HD patient involves a long, slow process of loss of physical control and a deterioration of mental faculties as brain cells deteriorate and die. Physically this process starts with an unsteady gait and lack of fine muscle control. Eventually the process ends with an almost complete loss of muscle control, including the loss of the ability to speak. The patient ends up bedridden and loses even the coordination necessary to swallow when eating. Mentally the HD patient at first notices difficulty in concentrating, but the end stage of HD presents itself in dementia.

Researchers are making progress. They tell HD families that some treatment or cure may be "out there, but it is many years away." My brothers and sister and their sons and daughters need results sooner than that. This can only happen if more and more researchers join the quest for a cure. And this can only happen with financial backing for these researchers.

This is where you come in.

I am asking you to help me in this year's Hoop-a-thon by pledging to support me as I shoot free throws on April 17 at the Hoop-a-thon. I have attached a pledge form for you to use if you think that you can help. Simply fill out your pledge and mail it to me.

You can also help by joining with me on April 17 as a shooter. Men and women of all ages 6 to 65 participate. Gather your own pledges and come to the Mercy Healthplex at 3050 Mack Road in Fairfield on April 17. Perhaps you could bring a group of shooters with you. You can use the attached brochure to gather your own pledges.

Thank you ahead of time for whatever you can do. Even a few kind thoughts and prayers are appreciated.

Sincerely,

Dennis Martin

HDSA, Ohio Valley Chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would like to reiterate that positive thoughts are very much appreciated as my father goes through a hard time, healing from a very bad fall.

If you would like to learn more about the event happening this coming Saturday, or how you can help out the HDSA in it's efforts, please contact Dan Leugers at dan.leugers@morgankeegan.com or visit http://hdsaohiovalley.org.

Alarms Clocks- Overrated?

2010-03-31T07:33:00.000-07:00

I woke up to an alarm today for the first time in a few weeks. Now, I really do enjoy being a grad student with a flexible schedule, and I have a 2-year-old nephew as an alarm 2 days a week, but I am almost appalled by this fact. I used to plan on arriving at school by 9am most days to get some work done, or I would try to wake up early enough to go to the gym before getting to school at a reasonable hour. Maybe I would snooze the alarm (a lot!) before waking up, but I appreciated my attempt. The fact that I've given up trying is alarming (pun intended, people).

It's time to start phase 1 of Motivation Control 2010: Taking Control of My Motivation. And I could use your help! What gets you up in the morning? Any tips on how to not hit the snooze button for an hour? And if you really want to help me- give me a call! Yes, I am requesting early morning phone calls to get my butt out of bed. I don't talk on the phone much, so chances are that I haven't talked to you in a while. Let's take this opportunity to catch up- at 7 or 8am! Otherwise, I might just have to start drinking coffee, after 29 years of being coffee free. Keep in mind, coffee is only a last resort.

I'm hoping that any improvement in my early morning wake-up routine will expand to motivation in other things- like exercise, homework, and leaving the house just to be outside in this beautiful weather. I've been able to rest a lot during Spring Break, so it's time to get back in the game.

Wish me luck!

Viva la karaoke!

2010-02-18T15:04:00.000-08:00

Karaoke at the Fat Black Pussycat has become a big part of my life in the last year. I never would have thought that I'd be a karaoke fan, except on the rare occasion when someone got me drunk enough to get up and sing in a group of people. But I started going in January of 2009 with a coworker, Will, and his friend, Justine, (who is now my friend!) who got me drunk and made me sing on my own. Over the course of a couple of months, I drank less and less alcohol each time I went. The end result is that now I can sing a karaoke song completely sober.

From time to time, variations like change in venue or other people that I know joining in on the fun, can make me a bit nervous. I sang karaoke in Ohio last July when I went home for my high school reunion, and I was definitely a little shaky on Oh! Darling. And I must say, when this guy I'm seeing finally comes to the FBPC, I will probably throw down a few drinks before I sing my first song.

Recently, the need for karaoke has apparently reverted to a weekly one. When I started singing with Will and Justine, we went to the Moroccan Lounge about once a week. That tapered off over time, and because of school and work we were recently going about once every six weeks. In the last month, however, we've gone every week, I believe. This is probably due, on Justine's part, to her school being close to the Village and her desire to show off her new boyfriend. On my part, I think the stress of school, babysitting and this new dating experience simply requires that I get together with these friends more frequently to talk about things- since I really don't like talking on the phone. Plus, I like to get my drink on when I'm stressed!

Hello, again.

2010-02-08T14:29:00.001-08:00

It's been two years since I've posted something to this blog. Shame on me.

I don't have the time to go into any detail right now, so I just thought I'd post a comment about not having posted. Very post-modern (pun intended!).

Blurry Photos of My Baby Boy

2008-01-21T08:49:00.000-08:00

My screen saver shows
a silly dog, a baby bottle
and my nephew there
asleep, awake, alert, a little
ball of baby boy

Blue blankets around
adorable dimples and wide eyes
in Dad's studio
Or popped collars and a button nose
in your mommy's arms

Mommy, Daddy and Grampa Ackie
they get to hold you
in all those photos taken to send-
emails meant for me.
Soon, we'll be in New York, you and I.

Having a little fun with photos.

2008-01-19T04:52:00.001-08:00

Leaving from Paris

2008-01-17T10:53:00.000-08:00

I'm leaving Paris in 8 days. The last time I was here (in January 2007) I was only here for 8 days. It's strange how then, I wanted to do everything, see everything, experience everything I could in that short period of time. Now, I just want to go home. Oh, I'm still going up the Eiffel Tower tomorrow with some friends, and I'll probably go to a museum after that. And I'm still thinking of going to Bruges this weekend (though I have no idea if that will happen).
But I want to be back in New York. My roommie is planning a little dinner at Arriba! Arriba! for my return (yeah Mexican food!), and I am really looking forward to it. I've got her and another friend picking me up at the airport, which is amazingly nice of them. I want to smoke hookah and go to school on the UES. I want to find a job and go to work again. I want to take that long-ass train ride on hard plastic seats into the city and home again so that I can get some reading done. I want to hide my suitcase away so I don't have to see it constantly staring me down like the last 5 months because there's no where to put it in this tiny little room. I want Rachel's snoring to keep me awake and the sound of church-goers downstairs to wake me up. I want bodegas and Whole Foods and the good old buying power of the American Dollar. I want my city back, dammit! It is time.

My American Friend

The Day We Did Nothing.

2008-01-05T15:17:00.000-08:00

We had plans for Friday. We really did. They included Jenn buying the books she needs to write her final paper, visiting a museum and going up the Eiffel Tower.

Unfortunately, the FNAC on the Champs-Elysées doesn't have a book department. And, we all left home a little too late to get to a museum before closing time. Then, when we finally saw the line at the Eiffel Tower, we decided we would be crazy to wait in it at that moment in time.

Instead of all of our original plans, we walked around a little, took some pictures and went to see a movie: Love in the Time of Cholera. So, it was still a somewhat fulfilling day, even if we accomplished nothing.

The Champs Elysées at night.

The Eiffel Tower, too.

Trying to catch the last of the light.

Holiday Recap

2008-01-05T14:41:00.000-08:00

Christmas in the States

I was home for Christmas, and it wasn't a only in my dreams.

I got to see my adorable nephew Gavin. He's gonna be a real charmer. Little ladies are going to have to look out in a few years' time.

I fed him, I watched him sleep, I drove around with him in the back of the car and almost cried because there was nothing I could do to make him stop crying at the top of his lungs. Luckily, I never had to drive anywhere very far.

I ate out with the fam at a few different restaurants.

Here we are out at The 'back using up some much appreciated gift cards (Thanks, Gram!)

I saw a couple of good movies: Sweeney Todd and P.S. I Love You.

I had a great time with the Misuriello clan on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Great food, great laughs, great people. When they say that you can't choose your family, that only applies to blood relatives. You can choose what sort of family to marry into, and I have to say that my mom picked a helluva family for her second go 'round.

I also got to spend a little time in the warm(ish) air near the beautiful coast of South Carolina. I really do love to visit this place; my home away from home away from home.

New Year's Eve in Paris

I came back to Paris for New Year's Eve. I went with my friends, Jennifer and Christina, to a club we like right next door to the Moulin Rouge.

In fact, you can see the sign for La Loco just underneath the red windmill itself.

We met up for a little Beaujolais Nouveau beforehand at Jennifer's dorm room, where she debated whether or not to wear the bright red lipstick that matched her shoes (she decided that she should, it was New Year's after all) and Christina fretted over whether she had too much make up on. I, as usual, had only clear mascara and lip gloss. That is the extent of my personal grooming abilities.

We had a couple of drinks at the club, waiting for the crowd to arrive. Jennifer and Christina attempted to perfect the art of confetti throwing in order to take a picture of the little bits of paper falling. They did not succeed, but they did laugh. And they made me laugh too, when they startled me with a few wads of confetti in the face.

We had Champagne at midnight, threw our confetti for real, and headed to the dance floor- where people had finally started to arrive.

We danced on the techno and r&b floors of the club, avoiding weirdos and groping hands. I've never enjoyed myself so much at a club while sober. It was a completely new experience for me. The downside: we didn't quite have the stamina we would have had if we were totally wasted. We fizzled out the door around 3am, just when it seemed the rest of the world was trying to get in. Hey, I had just flown in from the States that morning and didn't sleep at all on the plane, so give me a break. And feet seem to hurt a lot more in mildly uncomfortable shoes when there is no alcohol to numb the pain.

All in all, it was a good time. Dancing, chatting with some adorable French guys, and hanging out with my meilleures amies. What else could a girl ask for?

The Holidays in Paris

2007-12-16T07:26:00.000-08:00

I won't actually be in Paris for Christmas, but that won't stop me from taking advantage of the winter events in Paris.

Blvd. Haussman

Just like in big cities in the states (and in fact preceding them), the big department stores in Paris have always done their best to decorate for the holidays, and the most important part of that is the design of the store-front windows. So, instead of going to Macy's, etc., in New York, I went to Boulevard Haussman in Paris to see the stores Printemps and Galleries Lafayette.
It was a bit busy on the sidewalks in front of the aforementioned windows, with wooden platforms for the little ones to get a better view, those little ones' strollers still occupying space on the sidewalk and those of us who are merely young at heart trying to squeeze in for a glimpse. But, I must say, it was the ideal of perfection when compared to my last visit to the Macy's windows, with crowds four persons thick barricaded into straight lines up and down 5th Ave., not to mention the general walking traffic trying to make use of what was left of the sidewalk and, even possibly, trying to catch a peek at the windows without taking the time or effort to wait in the corral with all the other cattle.

In order to appeal to every demographic, there was an interesting juxtaposition of animated puppetry and bizarre mannequin displays with a Nordic Winter theme. Commercialism at its creepiest.

Adorable wolves causing havoc.

Creepy mannequin with lots of hair, surrounded by stuffed woodland creatures.

Cute bears taking photos.

Strange mannequins wearing fur.

I also had the fortunate chance to go ice skating in front of the Hôtel de Ville with some friends. We had to wait a week and a half for a nice (rain free) night when we were all available, finally we had a nice, crisp cold night to spend on the ice. It was a busy night at the rink, with plenty of skaters much better and much worse than us.

Here I am, getting my 'ice legs', as Caitlyn called it.

And here's Caitlyn, Jennifer and Christina in front of the Igloo that housed the ice skates and benches for changing into them. I like the igloo. It's a nice touch.

This shot was not easy.

A touch of red on the cheeks and nose show just how chilly it was.

Smile, Christina! You're on candid camera!

From Paris, Fall 2007

Make sure to check out the rest of my photos by clicking on the album link.

And Happy Holiday, everyone!

August Rush

2007-11-29T09:59:00.000-08:00

Besides dinner once or twice and an all-nighter at a club by Moulin Rouge, I haven't really done anything all month long- and I'm not exaggerating. Starting with the week of vacation for Toussaint and followed up by three weeks of student strikes, I really haven't had class. I went to a concert (which you know already if you read about Rufus), I had dinner with some friends for two different birthdays and I went to a club last weekend. Other than that, nada, zip, zilch, zero.

But there is one good thing that has come out of that. I've spent way too much time watching tv and movies on the internet (that's not the good thing), but today I finally watched something truly magical. Yes, Enchanted was fantastic, romantic and adorable, but being a fairy tale, I expected magic from the beginning. In August Rush, however, I didn't really know what I was expecting; but what I got was truly magic. At the end, it felt as though I should be crying, but it was just too happy and wonderful for tears to come. (If I were Christina, though, I'm sure I would have been balling.) Freddie Highmore is really just getting better with age; Kerri Russell, too. And who wouldn't wish they could fall in love with Jonathan Rhys Meyers on a roof-top above Washington Square Park? See this movie- I implore you! It's the kind of movie that makes a person happy to be alive.

Rufus the King, the Queen, the Jester

2007-11-20T02:04:00.000-08:00

If the man weren't gay, I'd be in love. Heck, maybe I am a little anyway, that kind of far away celebrity love that I like so much because it's safe. All I know is, he makes me smile, when he smiles, throws backs his hair, glows in the dark, wears tights and heels. In other words: What a fantastic concert last night!

The walking, the constant walking...

Okay, so the transit strike is still happening. And as I found out after walking 45 minutes to school, Paris III is still 'blocked'. So, I spent about an hour in the library reading and resting, and then I tried to make my way to the concert. I gave myself a little over 2 hours to get there, which turned out to be enough time, but I was hoping that part of that would have been spent getting a bite to eat before the show. That didn't work out so well.

I first tried the train, because I had checked hourly on the status of the 7 train, which would have taken me almost as far as I needed to go. I stood on the platform for 30 minutes, and there were three trains that went by- all in the other direction, and all back to back, like it was some sort of fluke. The most annoying part was that there was a lot of noise in the tunnel that made it sound constantly as if a train were about to show. But no. So, I resigned myself to walking and headed on my way.
Walking down the street, not 5 minutes after I left the train, it started raining. So, I checked to see what was going on with the bus situation. There was a bus stop nearby, and it turned out that that particular bus would take me almost exactly where I needed to go. The wait time was 15 minutes, so I decided to risk it. Bad idea. The bus was completely packed, and only about half of the people at the stop made it onto the bus- and I was not one of them. Not pushy enough, I guess.

I really didn't want to be a wet, resentful scrooge when I got to the concert, so I tried one last thing. I went to a taxi stand that I remembered being near the Sorbonne. Unlike in other cities, you can't just flag down a cab in Paris; you have to call a taxi and wait for it at a designated taxi stand. It's a little annoying (not that I've taken a cab since the day I moved all of my luggage into my place), but unfortunately, I was not the only one with that idea at that particular stand. No taxis in sight, I decided once and for all to hoof it all the way.

It wasn't so bad, really. My feet hurt a little when I got there, but the concert itself was enough to lift my spirits. The real sad part came when I had to walk home. The concert ended around 11pm, and I figured I probably would have just ended up waiting around for the train that would never come (since service ends around midnight during the week), so I found the most direct route, popped my headphones into my ears and started off. A little over an hour later, and sporting a slight limp, I was home. I will say this though- if you are going to get stuck in a city during a transit strike, Paris is the place to do it; I walked between the Caroussel du Louvre and the Tuileries Garden where the giant, well-lit ferris wheel is, with a view of the Eiffel Tower and puddles on the ground reflecting all the light- and suddenly the 9 or so miles I walked yesterday all made sense. This morning, the balls of my feet may be a little swollen, but I'm alive, and if not kicking, at least still able to walk.

And as for the concert.

What a fantastic show! Rufus started out wearing a neon green and black suit that looked fantastic in the dark (with the help of a black light, I'm sure) and a golden crown of leaves à la Caesar. He had to remove it, since it was sliding off of his head, but he was hoping to pull off a sort of "Gayligula" look- which he pointed out at the first pause. It was fine for me that he had to remove it, though, because then his full hair-tossing potential could be unleashed. For the second act, he changed into lederhosen. Freakin' hilarious.

After the required pretend end of the show, he came back for the encore wearing a big comfy white robe (like you'd find in a hotel room) and played a couple of songs at the piano. All of the other musicians had left the stage for a song between just he and his piano, and when he finished the song, he came to the front of the stage where there was a chair waiting with a bag of goodies. Those goodies just happened to be big flashy costume jewelry, a black fedora and high-heeled shoes, which he slipped on before removing his robe to reveal a black tuxedo jacket (mini-skirt length) and black stockings. Oh, yeah, he also put on some bright red lipstick to go with the ensemble. I tell you, I am jealous of the man's legs. The band members came back onto stage in black suits and some of them served as backup dancers for an amazingly choreographed "Get Happy", which is apparently a leftover from his Judy Garland Carnegie Tribute concert.

I was completely blown away by the live version of some of the songs I had listened to a hundred times (and am listening to right now to relive the experience), particularly "The Art Teacher" and "Slideshow". The former was performed solo on the piano and was so beautiful live that it was like I was hearing it for the first time. "Slideshow" was performed with full lights and sound, accentuating the emotion with technocolor, which was incredibly fun. Rufus performed a few more of Judy's songs, and also sang an Irish folk song that his mother had requested of him, this one in the traditional Irish tenor style with a French horn accompaniment and no microphone. Boy can really project.

One of the best parts of the show was listening to Rufus speak French, which he can do pretty well. But every time he didn't know a word or phrase, he'd just seamlessly shift to English. It was a nice use of Franglais. He said that if his album went gold, he would learn to speak French fluently. He then went on to ask everyone to stop buying his album so he wouldn't have to. His banter was very amusing. I especially liked the part where he played some older songs, and introducing "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" he said that during his second album, it was apparently chocolate that was more of a vice to him than cigarettes (which leads one to believe that he had put on a little weight at the time). Before "Not Ready to Love", Rufus asked the audience to tell him that we love him. We just thought, "Of course we love you, Rufus" and went ahead and said so. He followed it up with the back of his hand across his brow and "I can't" (in French, of course), and led right into the song (the title is also the first line, with an "I'm" beforehand to make a full sentence).

I was very lucky to be seated where I was. Sure it was the back row on the side (normally a pretty crappy seat), but there were some people at the end of the row who didn't show up, so I was able to move down the row to see Rufus at the piano, or stay in my seat when he was at center stage. And I was able to stand up without annoying anyone. I don't think I've ever been to a concert where everyone stayed seated the whole show. It was a little disconcerting. So, to put things right, I stood.

No Slideshow Here

If you couldn't tell, I really enjoyed the concert and wanted to chronicle it for you, and for my own memory. I didn't take pictures so that the images might stay in my head longer and stronger, instead of relying on a camera to remember for me.

If you ever get the chance to borrow a Rufus Wainwright album, and you have not listened to him before, I highly recommend you take a listen. He is entertaining and thoughtful. And if I can imaginarily love him [;)], so can you.

Paris en Grève!

2007-11-16T03:57:00.001-08:00

This whole city is on Strike! We are in the second (longer, more severe) stretch of a transit strike. So, I didn't go anywhere yesterday after walking all over the 5th arrondissement Wednesday. And why was I walking all over the Latin Quarter and its environs? Because I was trying to go to school. Why couldn't I go to school? Because the university students are blocking entry to all regular courses (including my literature courses) in order to protest a law voted in earlier this year that will change the university system here in France. The current system has its flaws (overcrowding and worn-down facilities being the primary ones) and the new law hopes to alleviate them by allowing the schools to accept only certain number of students and to get money from sources outside the government. This is the system in many other countries, the problems being (from the point of view of the students here) that the new system will discriminate, that not everyone will have access to the universities because they won't be able to afford it, and that big companies will be able to "buy" the universities, corrupting them. On one hand, I completely understand their complaints (every time I look at the amount of student loans I'm going to have to pay back some day), but on the other, there are flaws in the current system that are serious and need to be fixed.

Trying to get into the Sorbonne.

Translation: Good news: Paris is fighting! (the original sign reads: Sorbonne Nouvelle Paris III, that is my school)

The father of the family I work for was of a completely different opinion. As he sees it, the law was already passed by those whose job it is to take care of legislature, so it's too late for the students to be protesting. And furthermore, they are just an anarchist minority who are keeping the majority of students from going to class like they would prefer. They do their voting to see who would like to continue blocking the university (each school has their own vote) by a show of hands, which is apparently not really legal since they really eye the vote instead of counting.

Since the trains are running at around 10%, I walked back home. I decided to take the most direct route down Blvd Port Royal/Montparnasse. On the way, I passed hoards of people in the street- demonstrations or protests by certain left-wing political groups taking advantage of the transit strike to get people together. They were all over, with vans cranking loud music, and people ranting through loud-speakers. And of course they had banners and balloons with their parties' respective colors, logos, etc. What a spectacle!

And for the complete experience, a little video footage:

And you hear that wind? Yeah, it was cold.

That was all on Wednesday. It is now Friday. There are still less than 10% of trains in and around Paris. The universities are still closed (not that I had class today anyway). And tomorrow I'm taking a bus (privately rented, thank goodness) to Normandy. It will be a nice break from the craziness.

Keep 'Em Coming!

2007-11-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

I've got some more adorable pictures of Gavin. You know you wanna see these!

From Pregnant sist...

The bib says: Nothing's wrong. I'm just testing you. How cute!

Looks like someone's angry!

Musée de Picasso

2007-11-15T06:02:00.000-08:00

Weekend before last, I took a trip to the Picasso Museum. It was the first Sunday of the month, which means something very special: free museums! And Picasso is a little pricey because of the prestige, so I decided to take advantage of the free day. But then again, so did a whole lot of other people. Regardless, it was a nice place.

The museum was organized chronologically, I guess you could say. The exhibit was about the evolution of cubism, so they showed some preliminary works, followed by pieces influenced by African art, then dissections of drawings that led to cubist pieces. And there were lots of guitars: painted, sculpted, collaged. I think he found the guitar a clear example of how an object could be broken down into its parts and represented in the abstract.

The major problem with the Picasso Museum was the building's layout. I really found it difficult to find the last part of the exhibit. For the most part, I just followed the rest of the people, and occasionally an arrow pointing in the "sens de la visite". But at one point, I found myself going down 2 or 3 flights of stairs all at once, and then into a room full of sculptures that didn't seem to have anything to do with the exhibit. There were some interesting sculptures there, so I'm glad I stumbled upon it, of course. And that that feels how I found it- by accident.

Then I walked back upstairs and out to the front trying to find more. I was convinced that I couldn't have seen everything. I wandered around feeling foolish, until I found a sign that pointed toward the garden and café. So, on my way to the garden, I saw a room with more pieces in it. It led to a few more rooms, not a lot, but enough to make me feel as though I had possibly finally seen everything. Since I seemed to be done inside, I went out to the garden. It was kind of chilly, so I didn't stay long, even though it was completely charming in its simplicity.

From Paris, Fall 2007

There was another exhibit called Towards Guernica or something similar. That exhibit incorporated Picasso's works and a photographer's around the theme of war and violence. There was a photo exhibit on the Rwandan genocide. There was a comic that Picasso worked on attacking Franco around the same time as the bombing at Guernica. Unfortunately, the Picasso museum doesn't have the Guernica painting. It should be in the Guggenheim in Bilbao since that is in Basque country, but I'm not sure where it is at the moment. There was a large painting that Picasso did based on the atrocities in Korea. I never knew about that painting. It was quite touching. I shouldn't really be surprised that he would be active in protesting the Korean war. I mean, I do love the Picasso peace dove painting.

They sure do try

2007-11-13T01:03:00.000-08:00

Well, it looks like the French tried to copy Central Park at some point, but they couldn't find a central location, nor a place as big as we have in New York. What they did succeed in doing was to make an absolutely adorable gem of a park that is also a very good place to job. The paths are wide, it's challenging with sloping hills and the occasional stairway, and there is even the option of running on the gravel pathways that border the wide concrete paths. I am glad I stumbled upon it.

I guess the major difference between this park and the parks in New York is the sculptures. I know that they have them in Central Park, but they are more likely to be something huge, and possibly with some sort of gimmick- like the Alice in Wonderland sculpture. Here they just threw in some works of art that look good in the park and can handle the weather. Of course, they could have chosen them very carefully for all I know, but here's an example.

The park looks nice in the fall weather. The combination of water and leaves is quite nice and soothing. I like to sit and look around a bit after my jog. There seem to always be a lot birds: ducks, seagulls, pigeons of course. Watching the birds is good for me. I seem to have a slight fear of birds, especially when they are flying at my head. I think I had too many pet birds bite me when I was younger, or even when I was in college and my mom at a couple of cockatiels.

I'm not sure what it is, but for jogging, I prefer this park over the Luxembourg Gardens. Maybe I'm just used to the style of park where they try to make the area seem more natural and wild, as opposed to the French style where everything is obviously planned out with symmetry and lots of flowers. Maybe it's less crowded with tourists and more populated with joggers like me. Whatever it is, I think I will take the little extra effort it takes to get there from now on.

In other news... I'm an aunt!

2007-11-12T13:55:00.000-08:00

Yes, one week ago today, after 32 hours of pain and struggle, my heroic sister pushed out her little 7lb 4oz bundle of joy - Gavin Cannavaro Ortega. He is adorable, and I have the photos to prove it.

I am personally of the opinion that he looks just like my sister as a baby, at least in the lips and nose. He definitely has his mommy's nose. And I can't wait to see him at Christmas. He's gonna be so big by the time I get to see him!

Videos are now available!

2007-11-12T13:43:00.000-08:00

Well, thanks to Google Video I was finally able to get that video tour of Basilique St Rémi online. Unfortunately, it was too big for YouTube; and even though Google owns YouTube, or something like that, I had to go to Google Video to be able to upload the file. So, here it is. Go with me on a virtual tour of the basilica. Be charmed by the light and the choir practicing in the background. And please don't be too annoyed by the blurring and jarring; I was walking hurriedly around without really looking where I was going, and I was using a camera, not a video camera, so the quality isn't the best. But I think you can enjoy it all the same.

I also have a couple videos of the interior of the Notre Dame cathedral in Reims. They are a little dark and crude, but you can at least see the color from the windows.

And finally, I have a very short video of the view from the top of Mont-St-Michel, in case the pictures just weren't enough for you.

Halloween

2007-11-08T05:25:00.000-08:00

Well, Halloween wasn't a total bust in this foreign place where the day after is actually more important. Although I did go to a club with two of my friends, we (like about 70% of the people waiting in line) didn't get in. But, we took a nice stroll down the very crowded Champs-Elysée in the middle of the night.

But before feeling dissed and dismissed by some middle-aged Frenchy in a glam beret, I had a lovely time meeting some French students who were going to be a part of the MICEFA exchange in the Spring semester, and some other students who were studying English and were looking for some conversation. After having a couple of drinks in a cozy café, a friend Aleksandra and I did a little bar hopping with a small group of the French students. I drank a shot called Monkey brains (which eerily enough looked a little like brains, but then, hey! it was Halloween!) and lost a scarf. But we found a nice place in the Latin Quarter that I might even be able to find again, since it is next to a little "passage" that I remember from my trip here in January. We chatted in that oh so international fashion where everyone speaks a foreign language so that one person asks a question in less-than-perfect French and gets a response in less-than-perfect English. This game is especially fun when drinking.

From Paris, Fall 2007

The Mont-St-Michel

2007-11-05T06:14:00.000-08:00

Hello, from the top of the Mont-St-Michel!

So, I finally sat down and got these pictures on Picasa. So now, I can write about it.

Mont-St-Michel is a wonder- natural, architectural, historical. It is simply put, beautiful. It is a small island off the north coast of France in the English Channel. It has been around for about 1000 years, when it started out with just a church at the top, then the town sprang up around it, building down the hill. There are signs at the entrance showing the times for high and low tide. So, I learned a new vocabulary word (which suddenly appeared to me to be everywhere) and found out that, at least at this time of year, it is safe to park a car or bus in the parking lot without fear of it being swept away in the tide. I remember hearing at some point that people could only visit during certain hours, but maybe they have added some ground to the surrounding area, along with the permanent road they built leading straight to the entrance.

A view from the bus as we drove up to the island.

When you enter, it's like a bustling medieval street, tight and winding, full of shops and people.

A lovely little street near the entrance.

The abbey had a prison where prisoners were occasionally used as hamsters to turn a giant wheel that would pull cargo up the side of the Mont by pully.

And there were also small chapels, dining halls and a scribes' room (which had lots of windows so the scribes could take advantage of the light). There was also another church on this small island, I suppose to accommodate all the people that eventually lived here. Now, all the houses have been turned into shops, restaurants and museums. But that little church is still there, and still functions (as does the abbey).

Joan of Arc at the door of the church.

There are some great views from the top of the Abbey, too. It's really a beautiful location.

We had a lovely tour of the inside of the Abbey, and then went to a restaurant with a view out onto the water for lunch. That was a lovely day. We're going back to the coast in a couple of weeks for a trip to the Normandy beaches.

From Mont St Michel

Interesting things I've eaten lately.

2007-10-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

Because I haven't even tried to load my Mont-St-Michel photos onto my computer yet, I am here to write a little something that doesn't require pictures. I was sitting down waiting for the door to open to one of my classrooms this week when I pulled out a pen and paper and started writing a list. So here it is:

Gratin Dauphinois, which is a fantastic version of potatoes au gratin with crème fraiche, emmenthal cheese and spices which I unfortunately don't remember. And it was homemade by M Riey.

Fennel. I ate fennel as a vegetable. Also prepared by Monsieur Riey, this was the Florence (or sweet) variety as opposed to the fennel usually used as an herb. I was unaware that sweet fennel existed, but I was happy to find out that it is tasty.

Tea. Okay, that's not terribly interesting, but I bought a cuppa from a vending machine (the French have very high-class vending machines), on which I pushed the 'thé fort citron' button, but forgot to reset the sugar to nothing. So, what I ended up drinking tasted like a warm, liquid lemon drop. I think it was that lovely liquid lemon drop that inspired this list, in fact. I had another the following day (hey, it was cold outside).

A quarter roasted chicken. The only real reason this is an interesting dish is because I eat it regularly, whether in a Parisian café or a down-home American restaurant. And that's because it's almost always fantastic. In this case, it was in a little restaurant with a view of the English Channel in Mont-St-Michel. It was especially good this time because it was served with fries, and because it was a nice warm meal and a cold day.

Bounty. It would appear that in France Mounds candy bars are called Bounty. If it isn't the same exact candy bar, it's really darn close. Kind of like how a Mars bar is like a Milky Way in the US.

Uncle Ben's Curry, out of a jar. Yes, Uncle Ben makes curry. Hey!- it goes with rice, and that IS his specialty. I didn't have any chicken, but I did manage to boil some rice to go with. Somehow, it didn't taste at all like the rice I remember making in my now-defunct rice maker. When I get a new apartment back in the States, a rice cooker will be the first thing I buy.

Shark fin soup and Thai beer. I went to the Parisian version of Chinatown (which is kind of a joke next to the one in New York), and had a nice dinner with friends on Saturday. Christina misses her dad's cooking, especially the shark fin soup, so we had a little of that. I found that it tasted a little like gravy. It was almost thick and a little oily, sort of like egg-drop soup, except brown. The beer from Thailand was a nice light lager that tasted a lot like my American beer of choice, Bud Light.

That is, of course, only a part of my diet here in France. I eat a lot of yogurt for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, fruit for dessert. Tonight I'm gonna try to makes something with lentils, spinach, rice and shredded emmenthal cheese. With a hotplate and a microwave, we'll see how that goes.

A little behind

2007-10-16T13:00:00.000-07:00

The day before classes started (that's a little over two weeks ago now; sorry about that) I went to a concert. I hadn't heard of the band (the New Pornographers) but a bunch of people I know here were going, so I went too. The band is originally Canadian, but apparently some of them live in NYC now.
The concert was really nice. It started out with a French band that sang in English, then a French woman all by her lonesome who also sang in English, and who was incredibly nervous. The amazing thing was that people were sitting on the floor during these two acts, and when the songstress came on, some of the crowd hushed those who were talking. Absolute silence. It was really something I had never seen before at a concert.
And then the rocking started. And the jokes about French (since the group was Canadian and those Canucks have a special relationship with the French language). It was a blast. I also don't believe I have been so sober at a concert since I turned 21.

And then school started. And everything's going fine, except that I'm stressed out, but what's new there?

I have been trying to take advantage of the lovely city in which I live, so I took a stroll on lovely day with some friends... through a cemetery. Well, to be specific, Père Lachaise Cemetery, where Jim Morrison is entombed. It's a beautiful place to take a stroll, and there are some influential people resting there... for all eternity, or at least until their lease is up.

I went to see Edith Piaf's grave, which I don't think I saw the other times I've been there. I'm sure I was prompted this time by the fact that I saw the bio-pic of her earlier this year, and I was very moved. If you haven't seen La Vie en Rose, I highly recommend it.

I also took a lovely stroll through the Luxembourg Gardens. I actually took a look around the place this time, instead of just jogging through it. I noticed how nice the plants looked, even though it was getting cold. And the palace is nice too.

On the first Sunday of every month, the national museums in France are free. Woohoo! So, the first Sunday of October, I went with Caitlyn to the Centre Pompidou and saw some interesting modern art (read interesting as either odd or actually intriguing). There was also a nice view of the sunset from the top floor of the center. It was a nice afternoon followed by dinner at a fantastic Indian restaurant that we found near the museum. I'm guessing that we will be returning to eat there again, since that was our second time there.

This is one of the weird ones.

Check out this room.

I guess what I liked most was that there were so many 'interactive' displays. Videos, special rooms to enter, etc. were everywhere. Very cool.

And then there was the sunset. It was a very nice view, but unfortunately the windows got in the way of a good shot.

From Paris, Fall 2007

So, check out the other pictures in my Picasa album.

I also went to the Museum of Romantic Life, which is a museum mostly dedicated to George Sand and her entourage. There were jewelry and other artifacts that belonged to Ms. Sand, Chopin, and her children. There were portraits of George and her family, and drawings/ paintings done by George and her family. It was all set in a lovely little house with songs by Chopin playing quietly in the background. Very quaint. And of course romantic. Unfortunately, no pics of this one. For some reason, I didn't feel that it was the kind of place where one should take pictures. Maybe it was just that all the older people there weren't taking pictures, but that tends to be the case with French people. They are more interested in what is going on than taking pictures of it. But, then again, they can just visit again some time soon- they live here. So, I reserve my right to take pictures of whatever whenever, even sometimes when there is a sign saying not to. Then I just ask first.

Until later...

The Week Off

2007-10-06T05:30:00.001-07:00

Well, I had a week off before starting classes, and I just spent a lot of time walking. I didn't have my camera with me much of the time, but I did snap a shot or two with the good ole camera phone.

I registered on Wednesday, and afterwards I walked all the way from Rue Censier to the Opéra Garnier - which is a long walk, I assure you.

View Larger Map

During my walk, I went past some fountains and sculpture on the boulevard leading up to the Luxembourg Gardens.

In other cities, this would have just been some green space, a median with bushes or trees to make it look pretty. But I'm in Paris; so here, there's art in the streets.

I also spent some time in the same area (or at least the part North of the Seine - which is la rive droite, for those of you not in the know on Parisian geographical terminology) when I spent some time with a Parisian woman I met who was interested in practicing her English in exchange for French conversation practice for me. We visited the Palais Royal, which I had never seen on the inside. There's a large garden and a sculpture that takes up a whole courtyard.

I only got out to jog twice during that week; first it was too cold to go out, then it rained non-stop for like three days. The weather is not so good at the moment either, though there is a little bit of sunshine out there today. During my jog, I took a moment to sit and rest and observe; what I saw was a pigeon who seemed to really be looking for something. I stayed long enough to see that in fact, that pigeon was looking for some grub, possibly literally - it was looking for worms. And it actually found one while I was watching it. What a hard little worker; it just wouldn't give up.

From Paris, Fall 2007

The most important thing about that week off was getting scheduled for classes, but I didn't really think that was noteworthy enough in a visual documentation sort of way, so no pictures. So, finally I know what classes I'm taking this fall - contemporary narrative fiction, medieval poetry with a focus on François Villon and Grammaire du texte (which is, obviously, a grammar class, but it's one that focuses on how grammar effects content). I'm attending the University of Paris III, otherwise known as La Sorbonne Nouvelle, and my grammar course is at the Sorbonne. So, I am actually attending classes in the Latin Quarter. Centuries worth of students have studied there, and now, I am too. Lucky me.

Out on the Ville

2007-09-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

So, I'have had the chance to go out a few times here in Paris. I went to the theater, to dinner and to have drinks in some interesting places.

This is the lovely theater where we saw a "spectacle" (the French term) with four musician/comedians. They played a wide variety of music - from Renaissance, through classical to modern music - with two violins, a viola and a cello. There was a blues song that they played all together on the cello - the cellist played as normal with a bow and the strings, another guy plucked the strings, the third guy held his bow to the bottom of the strings to make them give off a more metallic sound and the last guy sang while occasionally using his bow on the long, thin piece of metal that was the base of the cello. I only wish I knew the name of the song they played, because I know I recognized it.

(Sorry for the quality of this picture. I tried to get a picture of the posters by the entrance of the theater, but the spotlights on them made the poster half white.)

(Voilà, the poster half covered in light.)

I went out to dinner the last day of the introductory French classes with the other American and Canadian students in the group. It was a buffet, and I would just like to note that the manner in which the American students attacked the food as soon as it was brought out is really no different than what the French would have done. I saw a buffet of French people first-hand in Montoire, and at that buffet I had to worm my hand around a few people at the corner of the buffet table just to grab some cheese and fruit. Also, there were three of the teachers from the courses we had just finished, and the oldest lady was pretty much as bad as the students - trying to get to the food as soon as it was brought out.
We had a good time, even though not everyone got very much food or wine. It was all tasty, and, of course, it was a good excuse to get together and hang out.

The restaurant was down this "passage" - it was actually called a passage and not a street or boulevard or anything. And if we hadn't been very alert at the time (because we ran into two other MICEFA students who were convinced that we had already passed it) we would have walked right by it. It looked like a big doorway to a courtyard or something. Paris is full of little nooks and crannies like that though.

And here I am with two of my new-found friends, Jennifer and Christina, at the Bistrot du Passage. (And no, I didn't spell bistro incorrectly. Sometimes, the French spell it with a T on the end.)

After dinner, I went with a bunch of New Yorkers to the main street by the restaurant, and miraculously there were wine and wine glasses!

We passed around a few bottles, someone went to buy some more, people were singing, someone bought pizza... and then there were a few other things that happened that are just too wrong to mention. I would like to say that I did not sing or drink too much. But I did block someone from view while he did something inappropriate in public. I tried to balance integrity with being a team player, and that is just what happened.

A tour of the Louvre

2007-09-24T04:36:00.000-07:00

We got a guided tour of the Louvre recently.

We only saw the most famous of the art in the Louvre - and I'd seen it all before - but we got some very interesting tidbits about it all.

For instance, the reasons that the Mona Lisa is so famous include a theft by an Italian who tried to take back a painting that he believed should rightfully be in Italy. He then tried to sell it, and was of course arrested. Also, a visitor to the Louvre once threw a stone at the painting, and though I don't know the reason why, I'm sure it caused a bit of a scene.

The painting that Napoléon had commissioned for his coronation as Emperor is impressing of course, but what the guide told us was that the coronation took place in Notre Dame Cathedral, which is not at all apparent from the painting. The reason for this is that Napoléon had the cathedral decorated with marble walls over top of the original stone to fit the architectural style of the day.

We were informed that the Winged Victory and the Venus de Milo are not complete sculptures because they are both ancient works that were found during excavations, and that they had to reassemble the pieces that they could find. She pointed out that the stance of the bodies could help art historians understand how the arms were originally designed, though the arms themselves were not found. They did recently find the extended hand of the Winged Victory, which they were able to identify scientifically as the same piece of stone, or marble or whatever it is.

We also saw the former crown jewels of the French kings. The crown that they have on display is actually full of fake gems, because of the custom of removing the real stones after the coronation. There is on display, however, a large, clear diamond that was used in the crown of the kings as well as in the sword that Napoléon wore at his coronation.

At the end of our tour, we went underneath the Louvre to see the original walls of the fortress that the castle started out as. It was in fact the former moat that we were walking through, surrounded by the inner and outer walls of the fortress, which were unearthed during the renovation of the museum in the 1980s-1990s.

From Paris, Fall 2007

My Room

2007-09-24T04:32:00.000-07:00

Well, here you are folks- a video of my room. I love my camera!

A Run Through Paris

2007-09-22T03:44:00.000-07:00

I went on two runs in Paris last week. The first was a trip to the MICEFA office (the organization who coordinated the exchange I'm in). Since I had to pay my fees for class, I decided to take advantage of the trip to jog over. It took about 30 minutes, and I walked back, but it was nice to get out and get my heart rate up. On the way, I climbed Boulevard Pasteur, and when I got to the top of the street there was a large circle that I had to go around to continue. As I walked around to the other side, I suddenly noticed what had been at my back the whole time- a great view of the Eiffel Tower. Blvd Pasteur is a wide, straight street sloping downhill, and in the distance the Eiffel Tower stood just in the center. It was an amazing view that is not at all captured by the photo I took with my phone.

And this is the picture I took on the way back down the hill on my way home.
\

On the way home, I walked past the south wall of the Montparnasse Cemetary, and across the street I saw this great house with vines and flowers painted all over the pink facade. Once again, the phone photos do not do it justice...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, the point is that Paris is frankly fantastic.
I went on another jog a few days later to the Luxembourg Gardens, no pictures that time. It was nice to jog around the park where there were many other joggers at the same time. It is a very popular place amoung Parisian runners, from what I hear. It's nice to get off of the pavement and onto a gravel path. It's not Forest Park, but there is a nice break from the hard sidewalks and the traffic. And jogging among statues and a castle also provides some nice scenery.

Update, 15 September

2007-09-15T07:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, so maybe I won't add more about what happened in Vegas since so much has happened since, and I probably just don't really remember much. Let's suffice it to say that I stayed up all night playing blackjack, had a blast and came out a few bucks ahead. The weather was nice, and of course hot, and the company was good, most of the time. That's all one really needs ask for in Vegas.

So, on the matter of France, I find myself settled in a little room in Montparnasse two weeks after arriving in France. My first week, I spent in the countryside in a small town called Montoire. What a fabulous place with a fabulous bunch of people.

We visited the nearby town of Vendôme...

We saw the castle at Chambord...

We visited the village nextdoor with Pierre...

We drank a little wine...

And a little coffee...

From Montoire 2007

In short, we had a hell of a good time. It was a great way to start of the trip, and it allowed us to put off the bureaucratic nonsense that we would all have to deal with once we got back to Paris.

Until next time...

Viva Las Vegas!

2007-08-30T11:16:00.000-07:00

Well, I had a great time in Vegas last weekend. Rachel, Vijay, Anisha, Ricky and I went for a few days and crammed as much alcohol, food, fun, sun and good times as we could into those few.

From Las Vegas '07

Check out my album for more pictures. I will add more about the craziness that ensued during our fantastic vacation.

Good-Bye, New York!

2007-08-30T11:13:00.000-07:00

I had a lovely dinner with Mary Beth and Rachel at Arriba! Arriba! The margaritas were just right. The conversation was great. The company was perfect. Well, maybe I wish that a few more people could have been there. (Tabitha, you never called! And Anthony, I'm sorry I missed you.)

Well, I'm leaving today, so I just wanted to say...
Good-bye, New York. I'll miss you while I'm gone.

It Is Done

2007-07-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

I read the last of the Harry Potter books. I laughed, I cried, I finished. It took me less than two days, while working two shifts somewhere in the middle. I am impressed with my reading stamina.

And just for fun, let's see which house of Hogwart's I would fit into.

Harry Potter Survey:
Whichever group gets the highest points is the one your in!

LET'S GO!!

GRYFFINDOR:
[] You've never done drugs.
[] You have a lot of friends.
[x] You get along with everyone.
[] You love soccer.
[] You love baseball.
[] You're into writing and art
[x] Favorite music genre is rock.
[x] You believe in "innocent until proven guilty" theory.
[] One of your favorite colors is red or gold.
[x] Good grades at school.
[x] One of the worst things you can do is lie.
[x]You plan on going to college.
TOTAL: 6

HUFFLEPUFF:
[] You're content with mostly everything in your life right now.
[x] You laugh a lot.
[] You like to follow trends.
[x] Politics suck.
[] You love to swim
[] Water polo is awesome.
[] Pink is one of your favorite colors.
[] Black is morbid & depressing.
[x] you're an optimist.
[] You're very emotional.
[] You believe in going steady at a young age.
[] You haven't made fun of anyone this month.
[] Loyalty is one of the MOST important things in a relationship.
TOTAL: 3

RAVENCLAW:
[x] You're depressed to a certain extent.
[x] You love to read.
[x]You appreciate theater & arts.
[x] Sports suck.
[x] Hate is completely unneeded.
[] Indie is one of your favorite genre of music.
[x] Every once in a while you have little anger outbursts.
[] Lying is sometimes okay.
[x] Blue is one of your favorite colors.
[x] Knowledge is the key to power
[x] Sarcasm is the best kind of humor
[x] People should know what they're talking about before they talk.
T0TAL: 10

SLYTHERIN:
[] There's at least one person you hate.
[] Basketball is a good sport.
[] Football is amazing.
[x] Black is a cool color.
[] You've lied about something serious
[x] You're a very deep person.
[] You have considered suicide.
[] You are not very loyal.
[] You like heavy metal.
[x] They make school seem more important than it is.
[x] You don't want to grow up.
[] Anger is one of your primary feelings.
[] You have trust issues.
[] Guilty until proven innocent.
TOTAL: 4

And the winner is Ravenclaw!

Wedding Proposal

2007-07-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

As I was walking down the street tonight on the way home, a young man (probably intoxicated, or possibly just really cocky) grabbed my hand as it was swinging at my side and asked me to marry him. I said, Not tonight. This spontaneous proposal by a stranger made me think of the last time that someone asked me to marry him. Once again, that person went down on one knee and took my hand and sweetly asked me to marry him. But that time it was a part of a scavenger hunt of sorts where people in each group had to do silly tasks and proposing marriage was one of those silly tasks. I'm starting to think it's just a little sad that I've only been asked by strangers for my hand in marriage. It's a good thing that I'm not really looking to ever get married, or at this point I might have said yes out of desperation!

Adventures in Forest Park

2007-07-08T17:26:00.000-07:00

Usually, when I go to the park to jog, I stick to the track. Running in a circle is nice and reassuring, because I can judge how far I've gone, and I can just stop at anytime and walk home. But sometimes, it's just nice to jog without knowing exactly how far you've gone, or even really where you are. Today was one of those times.

I decided to go past the track and down a closed off road that I frequently saw people biking, jogging or strolling down. I figured that if everybody goes that way, there must be something to it. Most people were just sticking to the actual road, but there were paths along the side, so I decided to take one. Soon the blacktop was covered in dead leaves and twigs, and then it was broken in spots and a bit bumpy. I think my legs deserve a good challenge from time to time, so I stuck to the path, even when it veered away from the street and started looking more like a simple dirt path. The pathway even undulated more than the street, so that I was looking down on the people in the street at some points. That also meant that I had to climb up and down more small hills, but once again, I decided my muscles and ankles and knees were up to the challenge.

Eventually, the path I was on broke completely with the road, so I followed it. From time to time there would be a wider path that seemed to be made of blacktop, but I stuck with the narrow brown and green paths. Sometimes that meant that I was in the middle of a peaceful forest, almost as if I there weren't cars driving past the park less than a mile away. Then, the bright blue mark of someone who likes to tag innocent trees would bring me back to reality. Mostly, the paths were quiet and empty of other people, but I made a turn at one point only to see a couple walking their dog and smoking some pot (at least it smelled like it to me).

By the way, this is not the actual pot couple that I saw, just a hazy picture of a couple walking a dog. The pot couple might have kicked my butt for taking their picture.

It turned out that sticking to the narrow trails was not always the right move. Once, a narrow path led me right to some railroad tracks.

And I was not about to find out that they were active in the middle of crossing them.

But at least the narrow tracks weren't wide enough for horses. It would turn out that there were many wide tracks lined by low wooden rails that were set up for horses. These paths were covered with sand, or some other soft material, for the benefit of the animal whose shoes are permanently attached to it's feet. For the rest of us, there was a blacktop path alongside it. Well, before I realized what was what, I was running through lovely, soft sand... filled with horse droppings! In a hypocritcal fashion, there was a sign posted to the wooden rails where they tie up the horses telling people that it is the law that they clean up after their pets.

So, I was excited to be jogging on a trail on a par with those I visited in the Pyrenees in 2002, only this time I was jogging and last time I could barely walk it. At one point, I found myself running straight everytime I came to an intersection of paths without thinking which direction to take. I was running without stopping, as if I had suddenly realized that the pot couple that I'd seen earlier were actually a couple of Russian spies coming after me. I jumped over logs and gracefully adjusted my steps when I landed on stones sticking out of the pathway. My knees might dislike me a bit tomorrow, but I was feeling good while I was in the moment.

Suddenly, I realized that I was lost. I came to the end of a path, and even though I could clearly see that I was at 71st Rd. and Union Turnpike, I had no idea how to get back from whence I came. So, I continued on inside the park, rather than cop out and follow the sidewalk around the outskirts. I ran into a bridge I couldn't cross, those damned railway tracks again, and horse trails that took me nowhere. Finally, I found trails that led upward, and I ran on until I could run no more. Just when I was afeared that the pixies and ogres were going to appear from behind the trees surrounding me, I reached the top of a path at the peak of which was a Mountain of Mulch. After scaling the Mountain and crowning myself Queen of the Mulch, I saw the road that had originally lead me to the pathway that took me to the hiking trails that lost me in the woods. The road was wide and welcoming, and I reached the soccer fields and track once again about an hour and fifteen minutes after passing them by for the more adventurous part of the park that was awaiting me.

My Mountain of Mulch