It's true what some people say about practicing things in your head before you do them, or rather "envisioning" them. I tossed and turned quite a bit over a phone interview I had today with Nordstrom, but what finally got me to sleep was the lulling mental enactment of the interview in my head. On the cranial stage I introduced myself, presented my qualifications, answered the questions... Then I was asleep dreaming my usual weird dreams. It was amazing! And when my alarm went off in the morning I had been dreaming about getting up and taking my shower. It was one of those moments when you get confused because you think you already did something and then you find out you didn't... I realized this, of course, because I was in bed- NOT dressed and prepared for the day as I had been in my dream- and my hair looked like an animal on my head. Is that kind of like lucid dreaming? Cruel lucid dreaming.. it felt a little like it took my twice as long to get ready!
The phone interview went well. I was really nervous about reception on my cellphone and so before the interview I was driving around trying to find a place to park with a solid 5-6 bar signal.. am I reaching for the stars here?! I quivered and jumped when my phone rang/vibrated a few minutes early, but by that point I was in a sparsely occupied level of a parking garage and the reception was perfect for the conversation- also it was a very non-distracting location. It's weird though- during the phone interview I talked a lot with my hands- I do this in person and for those of you who know me well you can support that statement. I found myself gesturing and emphasizing with what was an invisible hand to my interviewer. Even so, I read some phone interviewing tips that said to talk like you usually would in person and to smile while you talk. Well, "smile" in a way that is still conducive to talking.
My NEXT interview with the company is tomorrow. Woot. And this one is the "in person" interview, so tomorrow I will make sure to "put my best foot forward" which will automatically mean wearing heals. Funny thing though.. when I was driving around in the car trying desperately to find a place where I could have the interview I was WEARING my heels... perhaps it was a mentality thing. Though, it made logical sense because I was going around "soliciting" myself and my résumé to nearby companies and I did have to look nice for that. Even so... if you want to feel good during a phone interview- DO dress up. Just... do it. It makes you feel great. Yes, you COULD be at home in your Jammy-Jams on the couch petting the cat nervously while you conduct your phone interview... but you won't feel as professional. Trust me, I considered doing the whole couch thing... without the cat- I have no cat because I am very allergic to them.
In celebration I went to Downtown Seattle and had a drink with a dear friend! (OK... I submitted my résumé to ONE more company for the day.. but it was RIGHT THERE in downtown- it seemed convenient!) I have never REALLY liked absinthe, but this drink, called a "Voyager"... or something, was more like an absinthe margarita. I vote YES. It had that tinge of anise with the familiar refreshing POP of citrus. Thank you, "Voyager" for safe passage into deliciousness.
My new favorite coffee shop in downtown Seattle as of Saturday is Café Lieto- Also called "The Biscuit Bitch" for it's late night biscuits and gravy on Friday and Saturday nights. So chill. They also have velvet couches and free internet (for the first 15 minutes with purchase). I recommend. And with the purchase of a t-shirt, YOU TOO can be a "Biscuit Bitch"! SOLD!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Over. Haul.
New Blog Title. I moved. My blog needed to keep up with the times. We had a bit of a tiff over it. We both said things we didn't mean. Now we're back on track and happily starting over in a new city- Seattle.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "Seattle? After Paris, she moves to... Seattle??". Funny.. you're not the only one. However, despite my deepest desire to live in Paris, that time isn't now. I miss the Pacific Northwest, even when I'm here! I ask myself "Isn't there a beautiful mountain scape you should be enjoying right now? Why aren't you taking advantage of the incredible beauty you're surrounded by!?"- at which point I look out my window and it's all ok again.
Reasons for Seattle:
The job market- yes, it isn't in it's prime condition. We're looking at a sparse economy, but even so I have found thus far in my job search that companies really ARE hiring. But what they want is people who are willing to chase after jobs. This is not an economy for online applications (though that is unfortunately one of the only ways to get your name into their system) but a time to walk into a company and boldly brandish your résumé and tell them WHY they SHOULD hire you (but politely and not in such a stand-offish narcissistic way).
The... weather- True, it rains here. A lot. But to tell you the truth, I LIKE the extra water. Besides, you can't spell water without WA, which is the abbreviation for the Evergreen State! EVER green. This garden likes it's moisture. And being near the Pacific Sound is a dream. I'm a water sign- I like water. My solution of dealing with the overcast weather is light box therapy. It's a box with a light in it that gives my body extra energy. How? I don't know. I just have a light box and I use it every morning so I don't fall asleep at 1pm or get depressed.
Community- Almost every close friend from high school now lives on the West side. There are a few back in Yakima, but most of them are here. And the group is small and intimate. To come to a community where there are already established ties is priceless- AND I missed these people so much!
Need I say more? There's even an aquarium and a zoo! Sold. Plus this city has so many health food sections in its stores it's overwhelming! On Saturday I ate at a Vegan, raw food restaurant! I couldn't eat that way every day, or even every other day... but it was STILL so cool to eat in a place like that. Plus, the culture here is so colorful. I bought a newspaper from a transvestite on Capitol Hill on Thursday! WIN!
There is a lot to discover here. And much room to grow. I'm currently on the hunt for a job and if all goes well I'll move into a two bedroom apartment in Ballard with a friend by July. Things are going well, and I am blessed and amazed to be where I am. Even with the rain.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "Seattle? After Paris, she moves to... Seattle??". Funny.. you're not the only one. However, despite my deepest desire to live in Paris, that time isn't now. I miss the Pacific Northwest, even when I'm here! I ask myself "Isn't there a beautiful mountain scape you should be enjoying right now? Why aren't you taking advantage of the incredible beauty you're surrounded by!?"- at which point I look out my window and it's all ok again.
Reasons for Seattle:
The job market- yes, it isn't in it's prime condition. We're looking at a sparse economy, but even so I have found thus far in my job search that companies really ARE hiring. But what they want is people who are willing to chase after jobs. This is not an economy for online applications (though that is unfortunately one of the only ways to get your name into their system) but a time to walk into a company and boldly brandish your résumé and tell them WHY they SHOULD hire you (but politely and not in such a stand-offish narcissistic way).
The... weather- True, it rains here. A lot. But to tell you the truth, I LIKE the extra water. Besides, you can't spell water without WA, which is the abbreviation for the Evergreen State! EVER green. This garden likes it's moisture. And being near the Pacific Sound is a dream. I'm a water sign- I like water. My solution of dealing with the overcast weather is light box therapy. It's a box with a light in it that gives my body extra energy. How? I don't know. I just have a light box and I use it every morning so I don't fall asleep at 1pm or get depressed.
Community- Almost every close friend from high school now lives on the West side. There are a few back in Yakima, but most of them are here. And the group is small and intimate. To come to a community where there are already established ties is priceless- AND I missed these people so much!
Need I say more? There's even an aquarium and a zoo! Sold. Plus this city has so many health food sections in its stores it's overwhelming! On Saturday I ate at a Vegan, raw food restaurant! I couldn't eat that way every day, or even every other day... but it was STILL so cool to eat in a place like that. Plus, the culture here is so colorful. I bought a newspaper from a transvestite on Capitol Hill on Thursday! WIN!
There is a lot to discover here. And much room to grow. I'm currently on the hunt for a job and if all goes well I'll move into a two bedroom apartment in Ballard with a friend by July. Things are going well, and I am blessed and amazed to be where I am. Even with the rain.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Tine after Tine- The Food of France
I have, I think, dropped some "mild" hints that I did a lot of eating while in France. It is unavoidable. Truly. Around each corner a croissant is begging you to make love to it, wafting smells of pastries seep into the street air, the chinking sounds of china and silverware tempt you into cafes, and the dark, seductive displays of chocolate in perfectly clear windows call your name endlessly. You just can't avoid these things.
Here I include the many meals of France for your visual pleasure. Please, stop drooling on your keyboard.
Jetlag Catchup
So, it's 6am and my body is still adjusting to the time difference and recovering from traveling for almost 17 hours. While my system battles it out, I figured this would be a good time for more reflections and some catchup on the trip. I was unable to post as much as I would have liked. In retrospect, however, it would have been a waste to spend my time in France in front of a computer screen. Also, those internet cafes are expensive my friends. I think I spent the most money on this trip in cafes in two senses- coffee, which has left a lovely stain on my teeth- tis the strength of espresso, and the cyber cup of joe I would take every few days. Needless to say, I am here now, home, with unlimited internet and lots of time to recall the details that slipped through the cracks.
I was pleased upon my return home to find out that I had so many followers! I have heard from several people how much they loved reading my blog, and even one person who said that she was disappointed when she would check the blog and see that I hadn't written anything new. When making a blog there is the sense of thrusting your thoughts into staggeringly vast cyber space and wondering if anyone will happen to stumble upon your thoughts. I have my mother to thank for telling her friends and friends of the family and the whole family about my blog. My grandparents are reading it too! Ha! Hooray! I am honored to be read- thank you all.
To begin I'll fill you in on the last several days of the trip in Belgium, my return to Paris and last day there, and other stuff I think is important to tell.
Easter in Belgium:
In Europe Easter is a big deal- as a religious and cultural tradition... and food. Food is a HUGE part of Easter in Europe. Cholesterol is risen, it is risen indeed. Chocolate eggs, pastries, that really really really big Sunday dinner... oh yes. However, before eating, Kate and I went to church. I haven't been to church on Easter for a while. To be honest, I have preferred celebrating Easter alone. It isn't that I feel "shame" or "discomfort" worshiping in public, but I'm a private person when it comes to the things closest to me, even my faith. No, it isn't that I don't want you to know my beliefs, but rather I have seen the consequences and reactions of people when someone only represents their faith. I prefer to be "spiritual" than "religious" because I find the history of religion to demonstrate principles that are so far from what Christ had in mind. In any case, yes, I do like fellowship with other people of like minds, hearts and souls, and Kate is one of those people- therefore it was a pleasure going to church with her.
I delighted in meeting her friends as well- Denisa, a fiesty Romanian who I think, deep inside, is a descendant of the most fabulous Romanian royalty! She is just a delight- full of energy and passion, and the most beautiful skin I've ever seen. Her boyfriend, Tim, is from Belgium and was a bit more shy, but as the afternoon went on he opened up a little. And finally Pierre Ettiene, a frenchman and mutual friend of all parties above. Alas, I don't know what it is about the french but give me a frenchman and I will be a shameless flirt. I think I like frenchmen because they flirt back. After church, we were set to go eat at Denisa's apartment. I asked if Pierre was coming too ( a point I was later teased for relentlessly for reasons you will soon understand). He came along as well and we set out. I realized much much later, after flirting all through lunch, that Pierre has a girlfriend. I laughed. At myself mostly. This is why Denisa and Kate teased me so much later. Kate says I'm "shameless" when it comes to flirting. Yes, yes I am. But, what else can one do when confronted with a handsome frenchman? I ask you- would you not also flirt?
Moving on. We had a huge, scrumptous meal at Denisa's apartment, followed by the sexiest chocolate cake I've ever seen, eaten, smelled or touched. It had pear cream, ganache and fluffy cake inside. Oh Lord have Mercy. It was divine. Denisa, Tim and another friend, Sarah (who is as cute as a button and is as close as a sister with Denisa) all drove to the evening service early to practice and warm up for singing that night. Kate and I took a stroll in a magnificent park and stopped for a pick-me-up coffee in a chic cafe. It was a wonderful day, an Easter day, and a day of friendship and light.
Our last evening with Isaac and Norette (his beautiful roomate, also from Burundi) was laid back and fun. Kate called her hubby on Skype and there was a lot of fun and joking around for a few hours. We scarfed down a meal of mixed leftovers and canned veggies (still tasty, in my opinion- I like the peas) and drank tea and talked while packing until it got late. Before falling asleep, Kate and I had our final "pillow talk". Now, I know this phrase is usually reserved for lovers, but it took on something special for Kate and I during our time together. We would settle into the sheets and blankets, and slowly sinking into our pillows we would simply talk. I remember some of the conversations, but the more important fact was that we just... talked. Without agenda, discussion or resolution. Our voices would get softer and softer until we fell asleep side by side. It was one of the most wonderful aspects of my time traveling with Kate.
The next morning we all awoke early to say our goodbyes and Isaac and Kate went with me to the station to see me off at the train platform. Saying goodbye was difficult, yet I was filled with an unrelenting hope and almost a certainty that these two beautiful people in front of me would soon be seen again. I delivered my love from the open door of the train as the doors were just about to close. Tears, kisses, embraces, and the long looks given right before you turn away. And then, my train pulled away.
My last day in Paris was spent with Silas and Juan and several other friends who met for a grand lunch. So much food, and it was a wonderful way to spend the last day. Afterwards we strolled through a park for a few hours. It was a beautiful day. I smoked a small cigar as I strolled. It was a delightful walk, and afterwards Silas and I returned to his apartment for tea. I met Aurelie and Oliver one last time to say goodbye and we shared company at my cafe, Cafe Martin.
That evening Silas and I ordered out sushi, danced, talked and watched an old french film from the 60's. It felt like a peaceful way to end. We had our own pillowtalk before drifting off into deep sleep, me waiting for the morning and my long journey home to begin.
I was pleased upon my return home to find out that I had so many followers! I have heard from several people how much they loved reading my blog, and even one person who said that she was disappointed when she would check the blog and see that I hadn't written anything new. When making a blog there is the sense of thrusting your thoughts into staggeringly vast cyber space and wondering if anyone will happen to stumble upon your thoughts. I have my mother to thank for telling her friends and friends of the family and the whole family about my blog. My grandparents are reading it too! Ha! Hooray! I am honored to be read- thank you all.
To begin I'll fill you in on the last several days of the trip in Belgium, my return to Paris and last day there, and other stuff I think is important to tell.
Easter in Belgium:
In Europe Easter is a big deal- as a religious and cultural tradition... and food. Food is a HUGE part of Easter in Europe. Cholesterol is risen, it is risen indeed. Chocolate eggs, pastries, that really really really big Sunday dinner... oh yes. However, before eating, Kate and I went to church. I haven't been to church on Easter for a while. To be honest, I have preferred celebrating Easter alone. It isn't that I feel "shame" or "discomfort" worshiping in public, but I'm a private person when it comes to the things closest to me, even my faith. No, it isn't that I don't want you to know my beliefs, but rather I have seen the consequences and reactions of people when someone only represents their faith. I prefer to be "spiritual" than "religious" because I find the history of religion to demonstrate principles that are so far from what Christ had in mind. In any case, yes, I do like fellowship with other people of like minds, hearts and souls, and Kate is one of those people- therefore it was a pleasure going to church with her.
I delighted in meeting her friends as well- Denisa, a fiesty Romanian who I think, deep inside, is a descendant of the most fabulous Romanian royalty! She is just a delight- full of energy and passion, and the most beautiful skin I've ever seen. Her boyfriend, Tim, is from Belgium and was a bit more shy, but as the afternoon went on he opened up a little. And finally Pierre Ettiene, a frenchman and mutual friend of all parties above. Alas, I don't know what it is about the french but give me a frenchman and I will be a shameless flirt. I think I like frenchmen because they flirt back. After church, we were set to go eat at Denisa's apartment. I asked if Pierre was coming too ( a point I was later teased for relentlessly for reasons you will soon understand). He came along as well and we set out. I realized much much later, after flirting all through lunch, that Pierre has a girlfriend. I laughed. At myself mostly. This is why Denisa and Kate teased me so much later. Kate says I'm "shameless" when it comes to flirting. Yes, yes I am. But, what else can one do when confronted with a handsome frenchman? I ask you- would you not also flirt?
Moving on. We had a huge, scrumptous meal at Denisa's apartment, followed by the sexiest chocolate cake I've ever seen, eaten, smelled or touched. It had pear cream, ganache and fluffy cake inside. Oh Lord have Mercy. It was divine. Denisa, Tim and another friend, Sarah (who is as cute as a button and is as close as a sister with Denisa) all drove to the evening service early to practice and warm up for singing that night. Kate and I took a stroll in a magnificent park and stopped for a pick-me-up coffee in a chic cafe. It was a wonderful day, an Easter day, and a day of friendship and light.
Our last evening with Isaac and Norette (his beautiful roomate, also from Burundi) was laid back and fun. Kate called her hubby on Skype and there was a lot of fun and joking around for a few hours. We scarfed down a meal of mixed leftovers and canned veggies (still tasty, in my opinion- I like the peas) and drank tea and talked while packing until it got late. Before falling asleep, Kate and I had our final "pillow talk". Now, I know this phrase is usually reserved for lovers, but it took on something special for Kate and I during our time together. We would settle into the sheets and blankets, and slowly sinking into our pillows we would simply talk. I remember some of the conversations, but the more important fact was that we just... talked. Without agenda, discussion or resolution. Our voices would get softer and softer until we fell asleep side by side. It was one of the most wonderful aspects of my time traveling with Kate.
The next morning we all awoke early to say our goodbyes and Isaac and Kate went with me to the station to see me off at the train platform. Saying goodbye was difficult, yet I was filled with an unrelenting hope and almost a certainty that these two beautiful people in front of me would soon be seen again. I delivered my love from the open door of the train as the doors were just about to close. Tears, kisses, embraces, and the long looks given right before you turn away. And then, my train pulled away.
My last day in Paris was spent with Silas and Juan and several other friends who met for a grand lunch. So much food, and it was a wonderful way to spend the last day. Afterwards we strolled through a park for a few hours. It was a beautiful day. I smoked a small cigar as I strolled. It was a delightful walk, and afterwards Silas and I returned to his apartment for tea. I met Aurelie and Oliver one last time to say goodbye and we shared company at my cafe, Cafe Martin.
That evening Silas and I ordered out sushi, danced, talked and watched an old french film from the 60's. It felt like a peaceful way to end. We had our own pillowtalk before drifting off into deep sleep, me waiting for the morning and my long journey home to begin.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Home again
10 hours flights. As a number it seems impressive, and as a reality it brings the agony of sitting to a new level of realization. Spine, legs, hips... am I getting old? I think my body was already exhausted so the stress of sitting for over 10 hours (boarding time, waiting time, blah blah blah) and getting so little sleep (3 hours of feverish dreaming and one jolt into wakefullness that startled my neighbors) all accumulated to cause total and utter lethargy and discomfort.
However
Upon my arrival home, I took the most exquisite shower and rinsed away the stench of air travel with warm soap and nice smelling things. Purified.
There will be more to come, but I am so exhausted at the moment and quite frankly surprised at my ability to even type!
Goodnight, for now, from my chair in front of my mac in the US of A!
However
Upon my arrival home, I took the most exquisite shower and rinsed away the stench of air travel with warm soap and nice smelling things. Purified.
There will be more to come, but I am so exhausted at the moment and quite frankly surprised at my ability to even type!
Goodnight, for now, from my chair in front of my mac in the US of A!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
A Recap of Mischief and Incidents
I've mostly reported the emotional and philosophical side of this trip. It's kind of like drinking canned milk after a while- so I apologize readers, now I will fill you in on some of (and there's a lot) of the funny stuff (like the falling in the bathroom incident- which by the way has left my black and blue! eek!).
Dior in Paris- When Kate arrived in Paris I told her that I NEEDED to go into at least one designer store and try something on and take pictures of the fabulous garments JUST to say I did it and to try on elegant clothing I'll NEVER be able to afford. We were in the Gallery Laffayette and we went up to the designer floor. I made a B b-line for Dior and an incredible pink satin and beaded lace gown. It was decisively the most expensive thing in the store. I asked to try it on. The woman looked at me and said she didn't think it would be my size (snort). She was a tall, thin Russian looking woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick. I put on the dress (which was actually three layers!) and it fit- IN FACT it was too big! HA!
I put on each layer- silk. Pure silk. It looked and felt like and expensive slip. Honestly, without the lace part it could be something to wear in the bedroom (though I doubt there are many women who would pay 38,000 euro for a nelige!!). After putting on the whole dress I walked out to model it. I explained in my best lying voice possible that I was looking for a gown for a Gala. (she didn't buy it for a second). After admiring it in the mirror for a few minutes I explained that I wanted something to I would be able to dance in. She smirked. Oh well, I still got my pictures.
Metro madness- In Lille on Wednesday we stayed with a friend of Kate's (another American! Yay!) named Lina who is teaching english in France. We got day passes on the metro. However,Upon arriving at the metro station we were greeted by the "metro gustapo" (the guys who check to make sure you've payed for your pass). We presented our tickets, not expecting any issues. He looked at our tickets and scowled. Apparently you have to "compost" (stick it in a machine and verify it) your ticket and we hadn't done that- an honest mistake. Howeverm he thought we were trying to cheat the system.
I have never gotten into an argument with French "officials" before. This was the exception. The guy tried to rake us for 28 euros each. I explained that we had gotten into Lille that afternoon and even tried to show him our train tickets (Hard PROOF that we hadn't had our day passes for longer than that day!!!!) and he just ignored them. He even (he even) asked for our passports. He asked me why I wasn't carrying a french "carte bancaire" (bank card) because I told him I had been living in Paris- I explained that I was not a citizen of France and didn't live here fill time. He then asked "well, why aren't you carrying more money? How do you pay for things?". I showed him my visa- hello, it's a credit card. He asked why I didn't have cash (I was yelling at this point in sync with Lina while poor Kate stood there not understanding the French frenzy- she even tried to calm me down and Lina said "no, you NEED to get mad").
The event ended with him taking a bribe. I didn't even offer him the money. I just showed him that all I had was 15 euro. He snatched up the five and said "we'll just pretend this never happened, have a nice day". All I could think in my head was "You f******g a*********e **************************************************************************" There was a lot of french swearing when I left the station. I have never been that mad at the French. The thing is that they follow a system- often like blind dogs. This is the frustrating aspect of their traditionalism. For the most part it is beautiful and, even though silly, enjoyable. This was the nasty beaurocratic nonsense side.
I suppose it had to happen once. I laugh now at how rediculous the situation was, but at the time I was literally fuming.
There are (and probably will be) more to come of these absurd incidents and mischievous happenings. I'll post as they come.... but for the moment, those are the highlights.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Brussels Klutz
I seem to be falling a lot these days. I don't know why this is happening so much in the past week, but here are the incidents as they have happened thus far:
Tuesday- the metro- I was wearing shoes that have in fact been notorious for slipping on the Paris cobblestones, but I jumped up to click my heels in a jaunty sort of manner... and fell.... on my face... in public. Later that night I twisted my ankle walking. Just walking. No silliness involved. So it began.
Thursday- Lille Gare Europe. I was on the platform taking pictures. It must be understood that at this point in the day I was exhausted and getting to the point of absolute silliness. We were out of energy and out of our minds. I began dancing around the platform taking pictures. Then I fell. On my camera. The lense is now broken. Good job, Nina.
Friday- walking into the bathroom after waking up from a nap. The rug slides on the floor a lot, and I've almost fallen three or four times since I've arrived. Today, I slid and my feet weer suddenly in the air and I was on the floor. My first thought was "ow" my second instinct was to laugh at myself and ask "Nina, why the hell are you on the floor???". KB heard the noise and came into the bathroom to see what happened. I think I need to sit still for a while. I keep running into things, dropping things...
It's strange. I have found so much mental balance and grace mentally and emotionally on this trip, but when I think about it I have not been "on my feet" as much. The slipping and sliding on the pavement, tripping... I suppose it's possible one must sacrifice some things for others, but I, as a dancer and long-legged beast, have often found walking and dancing to be among the most natural things possible. It seems my grace mojo is broken. What can you do?
While I have been successfully on my feet I have experienced Brussels under the kindest and most fun tour guide. Isaac is a friend of KB's with whom she stayed last year when she was in Belgium. He is so lively and happy- always singing and energetic. He is from Burundi and has a fabulous accent and fabulous coffee colored skin and a deep gentle voice. He is an instant friend to all and loves people with a genuine spirit rare in this world. Between French English and the frequent interjection of his native tongue, we have passed the time already here in Brussels with so much energy and life. We cooked for him both nights already and it has been wonderful to be in a new and warm environment. I even took a hot bath with vanilla bath salts last night when we arrived in Brussels. The neighborhood is poor- immigrants from various parts of Africa, Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Even so, in Isaac's tiny attic there is a warmth and friendliness one could never find in a hostel. I am so deeply grateful for the old friends I've kept (KB) and new friends made (Lina- a friend of KB's in Lille, Isaac, and all of Aurelie's friends).
This trip has been a blessing to me, and one I am finally learning how to accept into myself. I often prefer to give, and the idea of receiving is difficult for me to accept because I don't like the idea of "taking". Yet I realize that accepting and taking are not the same thing. Neither in and of themselves are "bad". The apartment, the open hospitality of new friends and the eagerness of all to share their lives- I accept it graciously and feel thankful for it all.
Now if I could just get back on my literal feet... ha!
Tuesday- the metro- I was wearing shoes that have in fact been notorious for slipping on the Paris cobblestones, but I jumped up to click my heels in a jaunty sort of manner... and fell.... on my face... in public. Later that night I twisted my ankle walking. Just walking. No silliness involved. So it began.
Thursday- Lille Gare Europe. I was on the platform taking pictures. It must be understood that at this point in the day I was exhausted and getting to the point of absolute silliness. We were out of energy and out of our minds. I began dancing around the platform taking pictures. Then I fell. On my camera. The lense is now broken. Good job, Nina.
Friday- walking into the bathroom after waking up from a nap. The rug slides on the floor a lot, and I've almost fallen three or four times since I've arrived. Today, I slid and my feet weer suddenly in the air and I was on the floor. My first thought was "ow" my second instinct was to laugh at myself and ask "Nina, why the hell are you on the floor???". KB heard the noise and came into the bathroom to see what happened. I think I need to sit still for a while. I keep running into things, dropping things...
It's strange. I have found so much mental balance and grace mentally and emotionally on this trip, but when I think about it I have not been "on my feet" as much. The slipping and sliding on the pavement, tripping... I suppose it's possible one must sacrifice some things for others, but I, as a dancer and long-legged beast, have often found walking and dancing to be among the most natural things possible. It seems my grace mojo is broken. What can you do?
While I have been successfully on my feet I have experienced Brussels under the kindest and most fun tour guide. Isaac is a friend of KB's with whom she stayed last year when she was in Belgium. He is so lively and happy- always singing and energetic. He is from Burundi and has a fabulous accent and fabulous coffee colored skin and a deep gentle voice. He is an instant friend to all and loves people with a genuine spirit rare in this world. Between French English and the frequent interjection of his native tongue, we have passed the time already here in Brussels with so much energy and life. We cooked for him both nights already and it has been wonderful to be in a new and warm environment. I even took a hot bath with vanilla bath salts last night when we arrived in Brussels. The neighborhood is poor- immigrants from various parts of Africa, Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Even so, in Isaac's tiny attic there is a warmth and friendliness one could never find in a hostel. I am so deeply grateful for the old friends I've kept (KB) and new friends made (Lina- a friend of KB's in Lille, Isaac, and all of Aurelie's friends).
This trip has been a blessing to me, and one I am finally learning how to accept into myself. I often prefer to give, and the idea of receiving is difficult for me to accept because I don't like the idea of "taking". Yet I realize that accepting and taking are not the same thing. Neither in and of themselves are "bad". The apartment, the open hospitality of new friends and the eagerness of all to share their lives- I accept it graciously and feel thankful for it all.
Now if I could just get back on my literal feet... ha!
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