The other day, I was with my friend Jose and we were in the automotive aisle. I’d never been there before. It’s fascinating. You can buy steering wheel covers and wipes that keep your glass from fogging over and even little tubes of paint. I had an unexpectedly delightful time. I bought myself a little air pump so that I could fill the tire back up when I need to. And by me, I mean somebody else.
I have had many sensitive plants over the years, and they are one of the very first things I purchase at the Marché des Fleurs in Paris when I arrive in my beloved city. I have a spindly one at home right now that my cat worships. He loves to stick his face in the plant and watch it curl up at his touch. But this post has to do with another seemingly cognizant plant, the Venus Flytrap.
I felt quite drunk on sunshine. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t stop smiling. The sounds (the half that I could hear since I’m deaf now) and colors and the breeze blowing through my hair was everything I have been needing. I have been so bleak lately, but this hour out in the countryside restored a great chunk of who I used to be. I sat decadently in a nearby cemetery and watched as the sun sank into barren fields. The heavens were a riot of color and it felt like I had been thrust into an impressionistic painting. I felt quite alive.
I didn’t write my usual blog posts this week, so you get a break. I’m going to write about what happened to me recently instead. It’s been a pretty terrible […]
I felt like I was back in Paris. I felt like I was in 2009 again and Barack Obama was newly president. I felt like I was twirling tipsily in front of Notre Dame. I was in Métros and searching for clues about my grandmother’s life along the Côte d’Azur. And Patsy was there. And Eddie was there. And I was never so content.
Still I dared to dream. I didn’t dare tell Jessica that we were almost assuredly not getting tickets because she would have had a meltdown and gone into a psychotic and depressive episode that she might never emerge from. So, when I was bizarrely lucky enough to get a code the night before, I was extra nervous. So many didn’t get codes. I did, though. Then the morning came. Ten o’clock came. Reader, I have rarely been more afraid.
LOVE: Potatoes Savoyards: I legitimately have no idea where I came up with this recipe. I don’t even have a recipe for it. I don’t actually know if what I […]
There is nothing about me that is a morning person. I think it’s monstrous to see the world before nine o’clock. Inexplicably, I have a job where I have to […]
I only had two days left in Paris, and that put me in something of a funk. Life is so much better when you’re where you belong, or when you […]
Jessica was still feeling ill from whatever cold I had contracted and passed along to her, so I let her stay guilt-free in the apartment. After the stresses and strains […]