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| Evidence in suport of all your base belonging to me |
If you digested the mixtape I made, you may have discerned that in my youth I led a most nautical life. But most of that is crap. I'm more of a Spongebob than the Gorton's Fisherman, you can trust me on that..
All of my older siblings by contrast have been commercial fishing for at least a summer and one or two of them still fish professionally. And then there is me, who's only sailed a handful of times and never been dangerously out of sight of the coast. I think most people look at the ocean and don't even realize it doesn't give a damn if it kills you. You have to respect its majesty and understand just how tenuous is our comprehension and control. It can still be beautiful while being dangerous. Many of the best nouns are.
To me, wake-boarding is just like skateboarding but instead of smashing your face on pavement when you fall you get water up your nose. I'm not going to lie, I rather prefer the trade off.
I'm told I did a 180 before I faceplanted so I felt sort of cool. I'm kind of addicted to trying again.
Yeah, it was on a river as you can tell, some place up near Euro Disney. Sebastien loved it.
Check out this badass photo of him:
It was ridiculously adorable watching him grin like a crazed child or a dog with his head victoriously out the window every time we took a tight turn in the boat. I wasn't a big, big fan of going as fast as we can. Never am. In fact, a few times I said, "Oh my death, oh my death"--which is what I say, in an unconscious way, when I'm fairly certain I'm about to die.
Other ongoings in my life include:
My second section of my French classes. The first teacher was really cheery and funny. I super enjoyed her methodology and was very sorry to see it end. I think I really dig into language classes because people are so impressed that they even understand when a joke is being attempted that they are more inclined to laugh--this of course brings the humor threshold way down to my level, as illustrated above.
I think I'm getting better too, Frenchically speaking, since nowadays when I try to find a synonym to stir up a post up for youz, the first word my brain usually goes to is the orignal word's equivalent in French. Which isn't altogether helpful, but is probably normal, all things considered. (Plus ou moins.)
My bike is also sort of a big deal. I've recently discovered two important things about riding around in Paris. One, I don't get scared when I'm lost, unlike on foot. And two, the bike lanes that exist on one way streets going against the normal flow of traffic are awesome. I have a better time when I seek them out. Ok and three, people who ride scooters don't place much value on their personal safety. Or mine. Or yours. Fais Gaffe.
Even though it's a bit foolish to share the road with their likes it's way better than the air-conditioner-less metro.
Mais oui, you read that correctly--
Part of me is like, 'Wow, the French are so practical--why waste energy when the windows being open will cool down the car as we move!!!" And then some frickin delay comes along and I'm like, 'Stupid ill-planned city, we're going to bake to death and everyone who ever smelled bad in their life is standing around me!' Tourists, don't act like this doesn't apply to you.
On Friday I went to a 'silent disco" where everyone wears headphones and chooses between three or four Dj's. It was only 12 euros to partake and a drink was included in the price of the headset so I'll probably do it again.
I finally started reading 1984. I was embarresed to admit it at first but each time I have in a group there is always at least one person who hasn't read it yet. It's interesting that we can have such a cultrual touchstone that gets referred to and insinuated upon in ways that are fully comprehendable without having read it yet. I like it, but it's a little depressing. There's just something about dystopia that gets me down, you know?
No matter what, the summer is off to a great start. Bike rides, picnics, water sports, table tennis, spray paint and BBQz just to name a few. Sebastien's birthday is next month and I finally have an income to spoil him with! We still haven't picked where we'll go on vacation this year but we have it narrowed down to--well, we haven't narrowed it down much at all, frankly. But we'll see. I'm holding out for Portugal, Southern-Spain/Morocco, Istambul or Saint Petersburg.
I'm feeling good, gang. The road ahead gleams as though gilded with sunshine. I can see it, and it stirs me, but I don't want to look too longingly because I've lived long enough to wonder with measured caution, will it tarnish as I walk?
The answer, I suppose, more often than not is yes...but up ahead, just up there, almost beyond what I can see--the road goes ever on in gold.
And so it goes.
