Now What?

*WARNING!* If you are in no mood to hear someone piss & moan... best quit reading here and go re-read something else along this eventual topic that might be less complain-y. Everyone else...? Please feel free to air your personal grievances as well. Let's let the comments be free group therapy today, shall we?

This morning I woke up in plenty of time to do a bunch of things and still make it to work on time, if not early... the problem? It's my day off.

Why up so early? Well, the housemate kept saying that a friend of his was going to be spending the night, and knowing they would all be out drinking, and that the housemate has ZERO use of an "inside voice" once alcohol has taken control, I wanted to be fast asleep with a few hours headway before they got in.

When I awoke this morning the sky was still fairly dark & my room was freezing. This was one of those mornings that really makes me HATE being single. I do my best to make all I can out of these moments and spread out like a starfish in bed.

I lay there for a good 15 minutes, enjoying the silence, and the warm down comforter. The sheets on my bed had just been washed and I could still smell the slightly floral aroma of the dryer sheet as my head tilted into the pillow. I focused on the house, the sounds of the house. Could I hear a person snoring in the living room? No... the snores were emanating from the housemate's bedroom. Was the beast up and walking around? No. Is it too early to get up and make a cup of tea or coffee if the houseguest is asleep on the sofa? To be honest, I didn't even care about that last one. I was cold and thirsty.

I put on some slippers, pulled a warm hoodie on over my head, and surprise surprise.... no houseguest! Happy surprise really :)

I made some coffee, and because I still can't stand the taste of it on it's own, sprinkled in some cinnamon and squirted a bunch of whipped cream in it. What? It's my @#$%&*^ day off and I KNOW the housemate won't be up for hours (he's a marathon sleeper, especially after a night of boozin' it up with friends ... as opposed to on his own...), why not celebrate? I cooked some bacon too :) (That's right... party fucking central over here early Sunday morning! whooot whooot!)

Next up... check email. Know what I found? Another email from FutureMe.org.  (Remember the last one?) This one I had COMPLETELY forgotten about. It was written to myself, the afternoon of my birthday this year... and... well... let's just say it was almost evil the things I said to myself.

As usual, and because I really have nothing to lose by being 100% honest about this sort of thing (well, honest about anything really- unless it's your birthday and I have to give a "noooo we're totally not throwing you a surprise party" lie)... here it is:

Dear FutureMe,
It is Wednesday January 12th, 2010- It's your birthday, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Well, when you read this you will be 2 months shy of your next birthday (minus a day). Won't it be interesting to see where you are at in your life by now? Please, please, please tell me you are no longer with the person who blew off this trip to Scotland with you. Quit making excuses for him. He knew MONTHS in advance that you wanted to be here for your birthday. Thank fucking god you actually hopped that train and came here on your own.

That you were the one to call HIM on YOUR birthday was sad enough... that you had to remind him it was your birthday was downright depressing.

I know you keep going back in your mind to when you two first met, and how amazing everything was. You can't stop thinking about all the sweet and kind things he did and said... you keep holding out hope that he will be that person again. You need to drop it. He won't. EVER. It was a trick, of the mind & the heart. Yours & his. I guarantee you that he will blow off the trip to Paris as well. Even though the tickets are dirt cheap, and even though you two would have somewhere FREE to stay, he will find a way & a reason to not go. 4 days in Paris.... and he will find an excuse to not go. Mark my words. (And quit being so fucking dumb! Seriously!)

I hope that when you get back to London, after this trip, you really take a good long look at what has happened. I also hope you find the nerve to just end things. Get a ticket home, and go. I know you hate being on the island in the winter. I know it bores you to tears, I know that being single, during the winter, on that island is one of the hardest things to be... but just DO IT! Yes, you will miss him... and you'll probably be dumb enough to allow all the fucked up things he has said to you over the past few months to be pushed into the oblivion of your ridiculous brain, and you will do your best to focus on the good parts... but please stop telling your friends to not hate him. Stop telling people that he's "a good guy, just not my good guy"... because you'll never fucking know. Those times when he did right by you... that is what is going to make you miss him. Those times when you'd lay there on the sofa, or in bed, cracking up or talking about your future together.... yeah, those were great moments, TRULY... but you are (& I am so fucking sure of this!) forgetting all the cruel things he would say, and then try to glaze them over with a smile, or tell you that you don't know how to take a joke. (Ever think maybe he can't tell a proper one?) All those times you cried yourself to sleep... and a few of those times when he woke up because you choked on your own tears trying to be silent, and he fucking yelled at you?! Not cool, not okay. Please don't forget those moments, they will not break you... DO YOU HEAR ME BITCH!? They WILL NOT break you, he will not break you. What he will do is act faux sad if you break up with him, then do jack shit about getting you back. He will never fight for you, NEVER. Do you not know this? How do you not know this? He does not love you. You probably don't love him anymore either, but in this moment, as this is being written... you have tears in your eyes because you can't stop thinking about the person you DID love. He is NOT that person.

I recommend you break up and board a flight that same day back to the states. Did you do that? (Please tell me you did that!) I know you will stay friends with him, because the truth is... you two were awesome as "just friends." You were an ocean apart and flirting was innocent and nothing could happen. (DAMN YOU SKYPE!)

My birthday wish... today... on your/my/our (how the fuck do I write this part?!) birthday is that one year from today, on your birthday... a big birthday no less!... you are free of any and all feelings for the man that treated you horribly and made you feel like shit. If you are still friends with him, so be it. Please just stop missing him.... because unless a miracle occurred between your birthday in 2010 and the date you are reading this... I am pretty sure (okay, totally positive) that you still miss him. Smarten up and realize that you don't miss HIM. You miss having someone there. You deserve to be treated better, kinder. You ARE a good person, you love the fuck out of your friends, and would do anything for them... they know this. He is either clueless... or he is totally taking advantage of it. You two are oil & water.

GET OUT!

Notice I am smart enough to send this with a two month (minus a day) head start to try to make my/our/your (wtf?) birthday wish come true? DO SOMETHING! DO IT NOW!... and for fucks sake, when the cute, funny, clever, kind guy flirts with you... quit questioning it... not all guys are faking it... some are excellent. Yes, I realize most of them are married or have girlfriends... but the ones that don't... they are probably sincere... you're just too blinded by cynicism to notice these days. How the fuck did this current man (who, as you read this is hopefully NOT "current") break down those walls? We know who & what made you build them in the first place... maybe you should revisit THAT person and see what you can figure out? Good luck with that.

PS. Don't bartend this summer, you'll grow to hate it.

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

And THAT ladies & gentlemen is what I had to say to myself in January of this year.

Damn.

Sometimes it feels like shit to be right.

An American Girlfriend In London, Pt 11: Il Était Comme Un Rêve

I still can't believe I went to Paris. Seriously, I am completely unable to accept the fact that I was there. Add in the fact that the area of Paris where my friend Mary lives is so unbelievably beautiful and picturesque that it pretty much felt like I was walking on the set of a movie or some new amazing set up at Universal Studios.

Montmartre is where her apartment is... and to be honest, if I was ever going to live in Paris I really can't imagine living anywhere BUT there.

I went totally bananas for this house... like head over heels in love with it

 

While I am not a "church person"... the architecture of this one (Sacre- Coeur) blew me away

  

Mary's apartment was fabulous! The building had so much of the original design that I couldn't stop staring and commenting on every little detail. Even the old tile in the massive foyer as you entered the building was beautiful.

....just like the view out her front door...

Not far from that front door I got to see some pretty awesome things.....(& yes, I was totally humming "Lady Marmalade" in my head the whole time)

One evening Mary told me she was taking me to see the Eiffel Tower, and after we got off the metro she suggested we stop for some coffee/tea. (Tea was 8 freakin Euros!!! Just a cup of hot water and a cheap bag of Lipton tea... 8 Euros!! WTF?!) She told me "it wasn't time yet"... that she wanted me to see something and we had to time it right. So we sat there, giggled, and Mary showed off her unparalleled talent with spoons....

Then it was time. We rushed out the door and as we rounded the corner of the block we were on (mind you, I had ZERO clue as to where we were at the moment) I was greeted by this next sight... and let out a very uncharacteristic squeak......

She told me that we were probably too late to make it there in time, because she wanted me to be able to stand directly beneath it, so I just flipped my crappy camera into video mode and filmed it as I walked...

We did make it there before the lights went out, but not quick enough to stand directly beneath it. I gotta tell you, that is fine just fine by me, I was impressed enough!
(and I couldn't stop taking pictures!)

 

or stop smiling......... (even though it was bitterly cold!)

I did manage to get a shot straight up.....all the while cursing my crap camera....

 

On the way to the center of The Eiffel Tower a man walked out of one of the service entrances and Mary stopped dead in her tracks, she knew him. Turned out he was the cousin of a friend of hers... and was the guy in charge of the lovely twinkling lights! Mary translated for me (her French is impeccable) and told him for me "Thank you, you did an amazing job!"

We had stopped along the way back to the Metro completely captivated by some icicles on a "living wall" and tried to take pictures.. but after viewing the pictures decided it just looked like chilly snot and wasn't really photo worthy...

We did end up in a small pub near her apartment that she told me was quintessentially the most Parisian bar in Paris, "Chez Ammad". While we stood there drinking some yummy red wine I couldn't help but be intriegued by the hand painted border around the bar. I wandered over to get a better look as Mary translated what the owner was telling her that an AMERICAN (from Texas to be exact) artist had painted it all by hand about 10 or so years back. That's when I came across some words that were written (well, painted) and suddenly burst out laughing.....

Mary had to translate for the owner, he never noticed the words (he was much shorter than me) and he didn't speak English anyway... poor guy was a bit taken aback) Still really funny though!

Back in Montmartre I was shown some more beautiful buildings and art....

("Le Passe-Muraille" by Jean Marais)

On my last day we went to the Louvre....... ♥

I could honestly spend 12hours a day (if not more) for a month straight and STILL not see everything... but in a few hours I sure did get an eye full. I'm a total art nerd, so The Louvre was almost like porn to me, I was silently going out of my mind with joy....

the Venus De Milo

Aphrodite

"Winged Victory"

The Mona Lisa (who, BTW, I am totally convinced is actually DaVinci's gay lover...)

Artemis/Diana the huntress

The plaque said this was a man, but Mary & I couldn't understand why it had boobies AND a penis... so we called the statue "hermaphrodite"

Napoleon III's dining room

Napoleon's bedroom

Interior shot of The Louvre (which Mary later informed me was known as "The Cour Marly")

The Crown Jewels

Oh.. and this.. this was like the coolest part!... as we were walking through the never ending maze of The Louvre I saw this on the wall and almost did another Eiffel Towel squeal.... 

 

I had been wanting to see Messerschmidt's sculptures for a while now, and was lead to believe I had to go to Germany to see them, which was fine, I'd like to see Germany someday... but apparently they were in Paris while I was!!!! So I went into the exhibit and started taking pictures... and managed to get a few before I was told I couldn't take pictures. To which I replied (in my head) "neener neener neener, I got a few anyway!"

(awesome, eh?)

I have no idea what this one was called, or who the sculptor was... but I loved it. It was HUGE, beyond life size. Well, the wee jawas were about as tall as my bicep, but the knight they carried was immense.

On my last night in Paris we braved the frigid wind (seriously, I had to keep counting my fingers to make sure they were still attached!) to go see The Arc de Triomphe ...

I was quite pleased... :)

wandering under The Arc de Triomphe

 and around it....

Straight shot down Avenue des Champs-Élysées from under The Arc de Triomphe

As we were leaving we passed by a "Hugo Boss" store and both commented on how much we liked the window display, except for the ugly clothes... then we realized that all the animals in the window were ACTUALLY ANIMALS. Dead, but real pelts, real feathers... and I was kinda horrified...(seriously? a giraffe pelt? sickos!!)

On my last day, the morning I was leaving.... Mary took me to Notre Dame Catherdral. Wow, just wow!

Shakespeare and Co., the second incarnation of Paris' premier English-language bookstore

Statue of Charles the Great, aka Charlemagne, in the courtyard of Notre Dame. The inscription reads "Charlemagne et ses levdes" ("Charlemagne and his servants.") 

and if that wasn't enough....

and outside Notre Dame...

Paris really was an amazing experience, and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I was there. I was quite sad that the BF couldn't make it, I would have loved to have seen so much of it with him, as opposed to just show him pictures from my horrible ancient camera.... he would have loved Paris. I'm sure he'll see it someday, with or without me, who knows? Technically it's only like 2 1/2 hours by train from where he lives... but it's a world away from where I live, so it was a real treat to spend even just 4 days there. Had it not been for Mary I doubt that I would/could have... she made the entire time there so special to me, like a dream really.

An American Girlfriend In London, Pt 10: I Know How To French Kiss, Does That Count?

It was recently pointed out to me by my cousin that I was wrong when I said I only knew two words in French. I claimed I only knew "Oui" (yes) & "fromage" (cheese)...  are there really two better words to know? Then she reminded me of our Scottish family crest's motto I have tattooed across the back of my neck "je suis prest"... and I realized I am now in possession of THE 5 most important words of the French lexicon "Yes, I am ready (for) cheese!"

Tomorrow morning I will wake up around 4am, take a quick shower, have a nice heapin' dose of travel anxiety, take a cab to St. Pancras and arrive via train in Paris around 9:45am. (!!!!)

I've never been to Paris, and while this was supposed to be my birthday present from the BF, he is not coming with me. In fact every thing we've talked about doing while I've been here in London with him has yet to be done... I do understand that it's due to the demands of his current job remodeling two bathrooms for a client that has proved to be a complete asshat, as well as all sorts of unforeseen setbacks on the site, but I believe I'm still allowed to be sad about the fact that Christmas was rather sucktastic, New Years fairly lackluster, the trip to Scotland, while AMAZING, was minus him... and now my birthday present of a holiday for the two of us is now a trip for just me. He said he'd pay for the train tickets... I put them on my credit card.

I did consider just flying back to the states this weekend, but knew (thank you foresight!) that I would be kicking myself for ages if I didn't take the opportunity to go see Paris while in Europe. Plus, I have a friend there that I have not seen since about 1987, Mary. She & I went to high school together, and while we were not friends at school, we weren't like mortal enemies either. We just didn't know each other very well, even though we did/do share common friends.

A few years ago we "found" each other on facebook. As time went by and comments, "likes", brief messages, and probably a "poke" or two, etc. were exchanged I wrote a letter to her asking her about the name of the "rescue kitty" I had once had. I told her I knew the name was French (I did not name the cat, the evil previous owners I stole it from did), but no matter how hard I looked I could not figure out what the name meant....

From me: 

"the word/name "minoux"... I am 99.9% sure it's french... and I once had a cat with this name. I never knew what it meant. I did not name her. I saved her from a home where they abused the hell out of her. (I broke in through their kitchen window and took the cat in the early 90's and brought it to the vet, and after I convinced the vet that I was not the evil bastard that shattered it's entire leg... which ended up having to have pins put in it.. I kept her... She lived another 10 years, & would have lived longer if she didn't catch F.I.V. from an infected cat... that sucked.) ... but I have always wondered what her name meant. For the longest time I was convinced it was just the french version of "meow"... but I just don't know. Figured I'd ask the only person I currently know living in France if she knows! Any idea?"

From Mary: "That's a fun question as we have lots of felines in our neighborhood (Montmartre, unlike the rest of Paris--which is rather small dog-oriented--is a kitty haven, though we have dogs too).

"Minou" or "Minet" means "kitty" (male). "Minette" means kitty (female). "Minoux" looks like a plural, as the "x" suffix in French is often used for plurals--I can't find the plural form in the big French online dictionaries, so it might be "s" at the end rather than "x". In any case, "minoux" would seem to mean "male kitties".

:)

P.S. I am right now being purred at by our young male cat Morpheus, who Bruno rescued from near death when he was a tiny kitten under a hedge in a corporate park in the middle of nowhere. He had just barely been weaned and was covered with ticks and stuffed with worms/parasites/you name it. No momcat would have left him there like that. Must have been humans. People (of that sort, anyway) disgust me." 

... though there were a few messages between us prior to that exchange, that is the one I recall as being the start of us saying more than just "wow, you look great in that picture" type things. 

As time went by (as it seems to always do) I began to forget that Mary and I weren't "friends" in high school. It always felt strange to say it when asked, not that it came  up every day or anything, but when it did I never knew how to phrase it. I didn't want to say we weren't friends in school, it was just that we weren't NOT friends, but knew each other, but ... but... do you see why it's slightly confusing? 

Anyway, last year when I went to London in September I got a message from her telling me I should visit Paris & come see her. I told her that it entirely depended on finances and the BF's schedule at the time, but that if we could, we would... and then I asked her if she knew of dirt cheap hotels in Paris. Her reply was that I was being silly and should stay with her and her boyfriend and their beautiful daughter. Normally my gut instinct is to say something along the lines of "no! that's okay! you don't have to do that!"... but I truthfully really loved the idea of being able to spend some time with her, as well as... ok... let's be 100% honest... free place to stay in Paris? Really?... uh... YES! I think I'm hyper sensitive to the "house guest" thing since I live in a place (Martha's Vineyard) where once someone hears I have a house there the phone doesn't stop ringing from mid spring through early fall with a lot of "yeah, we were thinking of coming to the Vineyard" type statements. Over the years I have learned to reply to that with "Oh that's wonderful! I'd love to see you! Call me when you get here and we will have to find a way to get together for dinner or drinks, or both!" ... you can petty much hear it in their reply of "yeah, sure!" that they are bummed I didn't ask them to stay with me. (I've also unplugged the house phone) Obviously if it is a good friend there is no question, I will flat out insist they stay with me, but to have some random person I haven't seen in like 15 or 20 years (probably for good reason I might add) get hold of me and try to snag a free place to stay on the island? Uh... fuckyouverymuch. That said, if I invite you to visit, and offer you a place to stay, I honestly mean it. (And I'll also honestly tell you to not get your hopes up that I have some palatial beach house on the water... it was called a "fixer upper" when I bought it... and I refer to it as a "tearer downer" more often than not, BUT... it's mine, so....

Right, like I was saying, tomorrow I will be in Paris (!!!!), at this exact moment, 24 hours from now, I will be wandering the streets of Paris (probably hopelessly lost, but that'll be fun too). It really is too bad the BF can't make it, but I'll be trying my best to see as much as I can of Paris while I'm there even though it's going to take every inch of my being to not be a little sad that after months upon months of discussing all that we wanted to do/see in Paris that I will be going alone. ... and unless Mary is with me when it happens, there will be no one to witness my fit of giggles when I speak my only French (poorly) and let someone know that Yes!  I am ready for cheese! ... it's either that or just repeat the French lyrics from Lady Marmalade (which I don't count as part of my French vocabulary, 'cause who doesn't know these lyrics?).

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
(do you want to sleep with me this evening?)