The True Truth

The truth is, I haven't been doing well. What I'd like to write about are the things that I have to leave unsaid in a public forum that, no matter how well hidden (and as mine is not), can always be found and used against me. People judge my disease as a weakness - in many ways we haven't come very far from the years where depressed people were locked away in institutions and considered unsafe for society. Especially not in France.

And I suppose in some ways it is a weakness. Gone unchecked, I have moments that render me incapable to cope with daily stresses. I don't yet know exactly what triggers it and I still have a long way to go before I am the master of this beast. But the difference between weakness and my illness is that a weakness leaves one open to the attack and me, I am only growing stronger. With each anxiety attack, every breakdown, every day spent in bed wondering why, I am learning more about myself. Tiny fibers in my brain are changing and repairing themselves. I may not ever be "better", but I will certainly be different.

Unfortunately all that doesn't matter here. Depression is depression is depression in the eyes of most people, and depression like that is a scary leperous disease. How can I explain it to a person that sees me crumble one week and mostly normal (by normals standards) the next. It doesn't make any sense. It must mean that I am not confident and unreliable. It must mean that I'm not right for the job, not good for anything really. Depressed equals weak equals stupid and then in certain eyes of society I am basically useless. How do I explain to a person that's never lived it that I am not? Nobody is what they seem, but least of all me.

Truth number two? I am tired of the French. Maybe it's just another "adjustment period", but I am so exhausted by their impatience, by their intolerance (and often racism), and their down right rudeness. For a country that prides itself on being refined and follows so strictly certain archaic rules of etiquette, they can be terribly crass with people who are not, and do not speak perfectly, French.

Every day I battle the war of "That's not said" or "It's pronounced like this" and to a point one can let it go (and even benefit from it) but my straw on the camels back has been talking on the phone - something I do several hours a day now. I do my best, I truly do, and I have improved, but not ever to the level of perfection that will satisfy the voice on the other line. I have lost count of the times I have heard "Excuse-moi, j'ai pas compris". Excuse me? I didn't understand you.

But that isn't so bad compared to the people who tell me straight up to learn French or hang up on me flustered. The people who I have to call for work and explain things outside of my language capabilities who sincerely have no idea what I am talking about and just can't help but exhale heavy sighs of exasperation. They can't wait to hang up.

It not just the phone, of course, but it's gotten to the point where I, myself, forget that Oh My God I am intelligent. I may not be a rocket scientist but I'm not an idiot either. I just keep forgetting. In my day to day life I feel like a giant, bumbling, incomprehensible idiot. And it's beating me down. I just wish for one French person (besides my boyfriend) to have a little patience with me. With anyone who doesn't speak their language perfectly.

The Boy reminded me over and over tonight that "That will never happen".

So here I am, stuck between something that will never change and something that is changing constantly wondering where I belong. It makes me tired. It leaves me dry and uninspired. IAnd at the moment it keeps me pretty decently medicated, too.

If you wanted to know, that's the real truth. That's how things are.

Unsensational

The bus is slowly filling each morning with more and more people. Grossly tanned from their long vacations to their southern homes, these people are a reminder for me that I have to get up earlier in the morning. Soon the traffic will add a hefty fifteen minutes to my commute, shaving off those same fifteen glorious minutes of sleep. Yes, les vacances were lovely even for the people who still had to work.

Today was supposed to be an all or nothing kind of day. Things were supposed to happen, decisions and changes made. Nothing happened, though, not anything worth remarking. Just the return of the masses from their vacations.

I left work at a normal hour, zapped of emotional energy, no less or more bitter than the previous day, repeating the words to a song that I often think of: "Everybody hates their job, nobody got enough sleep". I am trying to find my peace with that. Maybe I need more time. Perhaps I will warm up to the idea.

The Boy says he thinks I am not made for this kind of work, that I should be writing. This is just one of the many reasons I am in love with him. Unfortunately we both realize the numerous reasons I need my job. I keep telling myself it will all work out in God's good time. And it will.

Soon, hopefully, I will have that day of big descisions and waited-for-with-impatience changes. But not much was in the stars for today. It's just the end of summer.

Things

Yesterday, as dinner cooked and the sun set, a group of gypsy performers wandered onto my street coming off thier daily train rounds. I smiled down at them because I’d seen them before – I guess that they live in somewhere in the neighborhood. They waved back up and me and started me a serenade, smiling and tooting their trumpets charismatically. At the end, they asked for a coin or two and I was happy to oblige. A euro is a small price for high entertainment in Paris. They continued down the street as the neighbors happily leaned off their balconies to throw them their spare change. The music faded into the evening.

I cherish those simple moments. They remind me why I love living here.

Last night was one of those « it’s too hot to sleep » nights, probably the last of the summer. Today I couldn’t help but notice that the chesnut trees had already begun to shed their yellowing foliage. I am not ready for the cold of winter. I need to buy new sweaters and tights. I still need the sun.

For now it is raining, the perfect weather for staying at home and doing nothing. Six months ago I would have. Oh the things I have taken for granted in my life.

And what am I taking for granted now ?

Only in Texas

I didn't take very many photos when I was in Texas this summer, but I like to share anyhow.

Religion is cheap.

Barbeque is sacred.

It's a staple food, really.

But a luxury as well.


The only thing more sacred is the right to bare arms, I'd suppose. How else would we get all that fabulous.... beef?? This is a real magazine I saw in the airport. It says a lot, I think.

In the Meantime

I have a rare weekday morning thanks to a broken electric shade. Two hours and two loads of laundry later I feel accomplished for the first time in over a month. I have checked a number of things of my to do list without stress. I took that feeling for granted.

As my "garden" has been rightfully dismantled by the my polish laborers, I don't have a photo to show you of it's mini glory. Nor do I feel like talking about the weight gain I've experienced and how my boyfriends jeans barely button up. (Looks likes skirts for the rest of my life!! Too bad I hate shaving my legs.)

Actually I don't feel like talking about anything, really. Things over here are... in a state of limbo I guess. I know that they will change but I don't know how and I don't know when. Relatively soon, I imagine, because that's how my life moves. In swift advances and giant leaps.

Mostly, to keep afloat, I'm staying medicated and focusing on the future. Big things like a house with a garden and a puppy in some form of "oodle" and a car to go get groceries, but little things too. Christmas at my sister's with The Boy and planning for this years holidays. Making roast chicken and pies with L and my mom. Watching movies with my neices and nephew. Driving, Philly, snow (I hope!) and recapturing all the emotional energy I have lost somewhere along the way. I am looking forward to recharging.
And I know very well that "If you have one foot in the past and one foot in the future you end up pissing on the present", but I like to think of it more like goal setting. I think of it more like "I am not going to be in this very uncomfortable place for long and you can be sure of that".

It gets me through the days better than any drug. It's almost as good as meeting up with a couple friends for dinner (which schedules don't seem to permit these days). It's almost as good as a day off. ...No, not nearly as good as that.

It makes me excited for the future, which is good because I am less than enthusiastic about the present. It's not horrible, but I realize that I should never ever have taken for granted all boring, mindless, stress free enviroment jobs from my past. What I wouldn't give for one of those here.

But, I am making the best of it I guess. Fantasizing about an American road trip (or even a French one!) and pushing my focuses at work towards the parts I DO enjoy in the hopes that will get me somewhere different than where I currently am. Praying.

I'm holding out. 'Cause ya gotta do what ya gotta do. I am no stranger to that.

This Gritty City (2 of 2)

There is a certain time of day - a certain shift of light - that demands to be photographed.

The Louvre.

The Louvre (again).

Haussman did it

Apparently George Sand was a woman. I would like to live on this street, just because I like what it's called.

Boxed flowers. So elegant.

Sundays on Sunday.

They were on stilts.

Oh pretty lady Eiffel...

Streets transform into marché and cafe.

This Gritty City (1 of 2)

A snap here, a snap there. Through my lense, here's a little Paris.

It's always better with a little mime.

Dachshunds, this way!

Refreshing reflections. (Alternately titled "Hot Lips")

I found something terribly sad about this abandoned and pummeled paper airplane.

It says it all.

Well Hello August

Really? It's August already? Where did July go? And why did we not have summer in Paris??? Oh, we did have summer you say? But I was at work, you say? Oh. Well that is slightly depressing.

The good news is that I finally got my first full paycheck, and though half of it goes to The Boy to start paying back the money he loaned me for my plane ticket, I once again have actual digits in my bank account that are not preceded by a negative sign. And that's a pretty good feeling.

Also, there is this thing I mentioned about actually blogging again. Yeah, I'm really gonna try. I am going to start with some photos, cause those are easy and I have a ton of them on my camera that were taken specifically because I wanted to post them on my blog. From months ago. Not even kidding.

There will also be updates on my new "garden", my new BlackCrackberry and the fact that I have turned 28 and suddenly cannot lose the ten pounds that is making me look pregnant around the belly area. I know. SO EXCITING.

In the meantime I have to get dressed for work. I hate to leave you in such a tender state of anticipation, but I have to fill up that bank account again. It's going to be empty pretty soon.