seize

This is something I started in my head while walking to Morrison's. 

I passed a couple in their late 50s holding hands and an old (and odd) question came back to the the surface of my brain:

Am I too complicated?

Do I know too much?

Would I not appreciate the simple touch

of your hand in mine?

Am I too brainy?

Am I too pretty?

Let me know I prithee

Let me know what I am.

Am I too sad?

Or too hopeful?

Am I too dreamy, a fool, 

a good old fool am I?

Too old?

Not enough satisfied? 

Is it me or you oh how I'd

like to know.

quinze

Today, something quite different.

I am eating my dessert in front of the computer in search of a good series that I haven't watched yet. I suddenly remember an ad on telly about this young female doctor in town that looked quite light-hearted. Not even six minutes into the first episode that I have to stop and write a blog about it. It's not bad, don't get me wrong. It's just full of clichés & tonight, for some reason, I don't go along with it. This girl had a plan. She wants to be a heart doctor in NYC. The plan falls apart. Her boyfriend breaks up with her and she does not get the scholarship of her dreams. Then, she remembers an old man who offered her a job in the middle of nowhere and she decides to go for it. We meet her travelling to this place on a bus, 'a Newyorker in a chanel suit' - obviously not matching the other passengers. First question: why not drive? Second question: why not wear something more comfortable? I am sure not all New Yorkers have a great sense of style or lots of money. Then, the bus stops. IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. Since when buses stop three miles from a town? I have taken lots of buses in the most random locations and yet, I never had to carry my suitcase behind me in heels through the dusty countryside like the protagonist does. But you all may have already guess why the writers made her do that. That's right. Enter the prince charming character. The oh noble (good-looking, friendly, funny, rich - all this information in 30 secs) young man who, just by a strange coincidence, happens to pass by in his car & is nice enough to offer her a ride. Awww. Sweet, you might think. All I think is: GIVE ME A BREAK people.............

quatorze

The "Five things that make me less girly than I thought I was" article

I consider myself to be a girly girl. It might have taken me longer than some other females (I only bought my hair straightener when I was 23!) but here I am: I love lace, I love skirts, I love hearts and pink and cupcakes. Yet, I lack many aspects of the...princess girly girl. I can name five.

Number 1

 I don't like French manicure and fake nails. I don't like fake in general. Tan, hair and eyelashes that don't belong to me are a no-no & a disgusting look thrown at anyone wearing them. (too harsh?)

Number 2

When I wear high heels, my feet hurt so I don't. Does it make sense? I think high heels are very feminine and  that there is nothing like a beautiful pair of shoes BUT the reality of life comes knocking on my door (not literally, that would be funny) every time I wear some. Sigh. High heels are not everyday shoes. If you're not a model and wear them for a living, there is no use to torture your feet. Also, I am tall and I as attractive as a giant can be, I'll pass.

Number 3

I don't own bling. No sir. Expect for an engagement ring (hint to anyone who wants to marry me), I think it always looks tacky and quite frankly, wrong if you're over 20.

Number 4

I don't wear make-up everyday. Not that I don't need it, it's just nice sometimes to be naturelle. Non? Also, it has taken me time to accept myself the way I am, so why ruin it with make-up? I even sometimes don't wear make-up [insert dramatic music here] to work. Oh no. She didn't. Well, yes I did. When you get up with only 20 mins to go, priority is getting dressed and eating a breakfast.

Number 5

I still don't understand how to have cool hair every day & it annoys me to spend too much time figuring it out. Even though talking about hair is probably one of my favorite subjects of conversation ever (slight exaggeration spotted), all the talking obviously doesn't help the practical side of things! If I have cool hair in the morning - it probably happened by chance.

So here they are. Five things that makes me less girly than I thought I was.

What about youuu?

treize

Somehow at the back of my mind, the idea of writing what's happening in my life keeps me sane. I keep thinking, I need to write, I need to write, I only have one life and if I write it down, it's there, a proof, a small one, that it happened, that I existed for that moment. Writing is always something I enjoyed doing. From as far as I can remember. I dreamt of one day having the guts (and the time!) to write either a novel, a short story, poems, children's tales and having it published. But look at me. I am struggling to find time to eat properly and to keep my life happy and balanced at the moment. Talk about spending time writing. 
That's a bonus, I am telling you that. Yet, I won't give up. It might take time and it might not happen when I want it but it will.

Here is a video one of my colleagues sent me. She thought of me watching it and you will see, it's a compliment. Enjoy.

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

douze

My new little song! It had been a while!

eleven

Hooray!
Emeline's got a first for the new year: a random comment by a stranger! Yeahh! Was her comeback ready? Nope. When the man casually exclaimed: "that's some long legs you've got there", all she was able to compute was the following & all together lame answer: "well, yeah..." (because, after all, it is true...) while carrying on walking. Was she wearing something that could have encouraged such a comment? Nope. Good old jeans. What else can she add then?

Nothing. Random. c'est la vie. In doubt, smile!

dix

Today I got stuck between two locked doors.

If this kind of beginning doesn't catch your attention, I don't know what will!
I am on placement in a new school and today, we had a staff meeting that finished quite late. In most schools, there are two entrances. One at the front called the main reception where anybody who needs to sign in before entering the school go through and is buzzed in by someone and one at the back of the building used mainly by the teachers. I - being a teacher there for only three weeks - always came through the main reception where I received a visitor badge. Someone always had to press a button to let me through. When I left the building today, I went back from the same route than usual to sign out. Big mistake. No one was at the reception. To my complete horror, the door to freedom was locked. Not only nobody could let me come back inside but I couldn't find any way of going out either. For a second, I panicked. The idea of being stuck for the night suddenly dawned on me. I then realized that not only did I not have any useful contact numbers to call but also, I didn't even know which number was the police - see how my mind jumped into emergency mode! Luckily, I could still hear some noise far away from people talking so I decided to knock repeatedly on the inside door. Next to it stood a glass frame with trophies inside it which made quite a lot of noise when you banged on it. After what it seems like forever (five minutes in reality), I got delivered by a nice cleaning lady. The most embarrassing part of the whole story is that I actually cried when she opened the door. I wouldn't usually. But I am on my period and even the smallest thing affects me. Ridiculous but there it is....