AliThinks

Self-Portrait Tuesday

   

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Almost forgot about Self-Portrait Tuesday today. 

I've been feeling sad for the past couple of hours.  I think it shows.

The Cramping of the Style

Last week I mentioned going to the doctor with Allan, who'd twisted his ankle, or so we thought.

Yesterday the doctor's office called.  It wasn't a sprain, but a fracture. You can read about it here and here.

I'm counting blessings, anyway. 

Thanks! I Needed That.

My friend Denise just sent me a link to the State of the Union Drinking Game. 

You know I don't do politics here, but I have to pass this along.  I'd seen this game before, but today I really read through the "events" and the "drinks."  And I laughed.  Hard. 

I'm not sure I'll play along, but I might live blog the address tonight.  Or not. 

Not For Everyone

Last night Allan and I watched The Aristocrats.  

As my title suggests, this film isn't for everyone.  The IMDB plot outline for it reads "One hundred superstar comedians tell the same very, VERY dirty, filthy joke--one shared privately by comics since Vaudeville."

I loved it.  I'm still laughing about it this morning.  I'm not going to review it here, but I will mention that the film is unrated.  Before the opening credits, this message is displayed: "This film is protected by the 1st Amendment."   For some reason, I was pleased to see that. 

So, have you seen The Aristocrats?  If so, what did you think? If not, why haven't you seen it? 

Does Anybody Really Care?

Most of you reading this blog know that I used to teach English to French teenagers.  If you've been reading long enough, you'll also know I'm a stickler for proper English grammar, spelling, and usage.  I've written about it before -- here, here, and here.

I know that all living languages evolve, and that there is a difference between the spoken and the written.  I'm starting to accept that people are going to say "There's three kinds of salad on the table," and there is nothing I can do about it.  Well, I can continue to differentiate between there is and there are, but who's going to notice?

I Could Get Used To This

The days flow and bubble along here in Pennsyltucky.  Allan and I are supremely good at existing together.  Every day I fall in love with him all over again.

It's pretty sickening, actually.  I know I am grossing most of you out right now.

But...I must be the luckiest woman on this earth.  Never have I felt so at home, never have I felt so much like Alison.  It's a good thing. 

Diner Food

   

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We ate lunch at Ramsey's on East High Street.

Blue Eyes

   

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Just a little bit eeee-villllllll.  For the Friday Ark. 

When The Fizz Is Gone

About that last post?  I wrote it a couple of hours before I posted it.  And now that I have re-read it a couple of times, it doesn't seem as funny as it did earlier.  I really wasn't all that exasperated; I was more amused, and I tried in vain to make a humorous post. 

Meh.

I waited to post that entry because I hadn't finished by the time we had to go out.  See, we went to the doctor today because Allan sprained (or re-sprained) his ankle this morning.  He had an X-ray taken, got an air splint, and has to chill out and not put weight on his ankle.  We'll get the X-ray results on Monday.

So really, in retrospect and perspective, my faux-snarky/annoyed post really isn't that snarky or funny. 

Allan is fine; he's in good spirits.  Later on we're going to play with his new toy.  Photos will be taken.

In Which I Emit An Exasperated...

Gah! 

Is it the monitors over there in Euro-land?  Some of my readers in the Old Country seemed to think that I miss France so much that I chose a bleu, blanc, rouge shower curtain.

Um, no. 

It's blanc, bleu, orange.  I checked for a comparable flag, but couldn't find one. 

I will miss France, but my idea of paying tribute to my adopted country is to quaff one of its delicious alcoholic beverages.

Feathering

Allan lives in the house he grew up in.  He's made some changes, but some things remain as they were when his mother was still alive. 

The bathroom was redone a couple of years ago, but Allan kept the shower curtain and valances his mother had chosen a few years before that.  They had a nice green and off-white magnolia pattern, and the matching towels were a moss-green.  Well, heck, I took pictures, so you can see:

Allan was ready for a change -- has been for a while -- and I'll admit that those were a little too conventional for my taste.  So we got some replacement things yesterday. 

Here I Be...

Thank you all for the kind comments to my last post. 

My trip here to Kentucky was smooth, and I've apparently brought some sunny weather with me.  (Here's where I start singing Crowded House, and you join me for the chorus).

Allan and I spent today out shopping, with me marveling at all the cool new shit being marketed (oh! all the new kinds of Valentine's candy!  Ah! the colors at Target!).  No, wait.  First we sat in a little coffee shop, Common Grounds, for an hour or so and drank big mugs of the house blend.  It is a place I can imagine walking to, laptop in hand, to spend time getting bloginated while caffeining.

After that we went to a bunch of different places, sometimes just to look, sometimes because we had a specific thing in mind.  I'm always amazed at the scope of choices one has when shopping in the States.  But then, I live in SmallTown, France. 

I wish I had taken my camera with me.  The sunlight in the coffee shop was just beautiful.  My Reuben sandwich at Schlotsky's deli was scrumptious, both in looks and taste.  And the people!  Ah, the people, like the sales girl that I wanted to smack at Old Navy, and the smily Andy Dick-looking manager at Schlotsky's:  all fodder for photographs and blogstories.

More to come.  Right now I have to take some Before pictures, so that I can blog about the After. 

Wiped!

I just packed my life into two suitcases.

Writing that sentence made me burst into tears*.

My Most Precious Things and Favorite Clothes are tightly arranged so that nothing will break (fingers crossed).  My jewelry box and camera are in my carry-on bag.

Tonight I'm driving to Bordeaux; early tomorrow morning I'm flying Paris, then Cincinnati.

Allan will pick me up there, and we'll spend ten days together before I come back here to pack the rest of the apartment up. 

Packing suitcases is no big deal to me.  I've been doing it for years.  This time, however, it took a lot out of me.  I'm wiped out. 

Blogging will resume on Tuesday.   

*I'm okay now. Really, it's all good.  :) 

Talisman

   

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This afternoon, again, I went back to the house I left.  It wasn't as bad this time.  I "returned" some of the kids' things, including their favorite cat, Cookie.

The day was sunny, and I decided to walk on my favorite beach before heading back to SmallTown.  I call it "Treasure Beach," for it is full of my preferred beach treasure, sea glass.

I wasn't really looking for glass today.  My kids and I were just there on Wednesday, and C. and I found some nice bits then.  Today I was more interested in taking photos. 

Then I saw this chunk of green glass.  I usually bypass the green, but I liked the size and shape of this. 

I took a few photos of it in my fingers, then made my way back to the sea wall to wait for the sun to set.

And my left index finger and thumb rubbed that piece of glass as if it were a talisman.

Hey! A Video.

In which I procrastinate. 

My Week As A Blog Star

Nah, not really.

 

I just kind of felt like a Dooce or a Mimi Smartypants or a Clotilde.

 

Why? 

Because my blog stats exploded. 

All Of It

Today I went back to the house I left 17 months ago. 

It wasn't the first time I've been back, of course, but I haven't spent so much time -- if an hour is a long time -- there in quite a while.  It was strange to be there, but in many ways it felt normal. 

Look on that shelf.  There are those candlesticks I bought at Pier 1.  Heh, that yummy orange candle is still on the one candlestick.  Over there is part of my collection of blue glass bottles.  Wow, the ficus has grown.  And there's Java.  Hi, Java!

But most of those things are being hidden, overshadowed by new trinkets and projects, many of them kid-oriented.  My son has a collection of bugs on pins.  My daughter's stamps are spread on a towel in front of the radiator.  There's a terrarium with a  newly-discovered beetle in there.  Hard-backed comic books, des bandes dessinées, line the shelves.

The coffee table, that huge, grey, square table that I lovingly rendered a sunny yellow, looks a bit worse for wear.  The organdy curtains I bought have faded a bit.  The computer desk has slimmed down to accomodate the flat monitor he bought.  Things have changed, are changing. 

"You can't go back," they say, and it's true.  My heart aches when I enter this house, aches for what was "supposed to be" and what didn't happen. 

I suppose I'm ultra-sensitive to it now, as I prepare to move back across the Atlantic Ocean.  I've spent my entire adult life in France.  I know better things await me, that love awaits me.  I know this, but it's still hard to turn the page. 

Self-Portrait Tuesday

   
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My friend Alain told me about Self-Portrait Tuesday a few weeks ago, but this is my first time posting for it.  I took this photo by the light of my stove about 10 days ago.  Since Tuesday is almost over here in France, I decided to post this rather than taking another photo.  But...I have lots of ideas for this.

Thanks to Allan for reminding me about SPT.

Neuf de Quatre

I done been tagged by Katherine and Susan. 

Four jobs you have had in your life:

Cafeteria Crudder
Data Entry Clerk
Bookseller
English Teacher in France

What Do You Do

...when there is so much stuff meandering through your brain that you can't think of anything to write? 

Do you make a list, do a meme (I know, taggers, that you've tagged me for the 4 things meme), do a quiz, post a photo?

Or do you create a podcast or videopost? 

What do you do?