Off With Her Head!

Though yesterday was spent with my romantic sensibilities, my bedtime story for the past month has been on the more tragic side.

I actually started reading Marie Antoinette: The Journey (by Antonia Fraser) in France. After my last visit to Versailles, I watched the Sophia Copolla film with Kirsten Dunst as the child princess and became interested in what the real history was there. I thought, "I should read this book in French" and so bought it that way, but I quickly realized that was a massively over ambitious choice for my French reading level and put in a box for later.

Fast forward several months to a trip to my sister's local library. All of the books on my reading list were not in stock and while I placed an order for them I still had nothing to read at this second. Remembering my Marie Antoinette biography tucked in the "two be sent" boxes in our old apartment, I perused the European history isle for such a book. It was in, in hardback.

So I started my nightly romp with Maria Antonia, Duchess of Austria, Princess of France. (I quickly understood why it was so hard to grasp in French. Historical non fiction isn't the best starter reading in a second language!) Just like Versailles, Marie Antoinette's young life was so deeply enchanting. Furthermore, having visited so many of the places mentioned I was literally transported to her place in time. For several weeks I imagined myself in the delicate silk slippers of the Queen.

Then, just as Valentine's drew near (coincidentally) my reading led me to the not-so-glamorous part of her life: the end. It was a train wreck, really, to read about the horror's that the French Nationalists played out in order to overthrow their monarchy. In my head I retraced my trips to Versailles and the Louvre and various places around Paris and saw them washed with the blood of the aristocracy. Heads of lovely coiffed women danced on pikes near my favorite landmarks. I shuddered, wondering with gruesome curiosity how I would have looked so differently at my enchanted city knowing how much blood had been spilt.

I guess that was the fate of Europe in general, wasn't it? Blood, pillaging and overthrowing? Funny how we see what we wish to see, and not so much those past transgressions of the past. Revisionist's History, as written by Lonely Planet.

Now, though, I can't help but wish I had finished this book in Paris, so I could have visited and re-visited the landmarks of Marie Antoinette's days as well as her tomb. I suppose that's for my next trip "home".

Tonight I won't start the next book on my list (Catcher in the Rye - don't laugh, I haven't read it!) but instead dream one last dream with my players in the French court.

...And work on my unbecoming double chin. All these nights of reading in bed are making me saggy.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Last year at this time I was hopelessly single and celebrating a different kind of Valentine's Day. I had plenty of things to be thankful for - plenty of love and the day itself was warm and bright - but no boyfriend to share it with. I won't lie, I was bitter then. Aren't all single girls just a tiny bit bitter on Valentine's Day. I think we're supposed to be.

This year - just slightly less than eleven months from our one year anniversary - I celebrated today with The Boy. Not only is this the ominously red day of hearts and flowers, it is the day that my husband to be was born. If he had been here I would have doubled my traditional V-day hearts and dinner with a cake (though likely not a red one) and probably some kind of day long present-giving event. I would have planned a party for him for the weekend, and forced him to pick one thing he was dying to do and go do it with him. I would have woken him up singing happy birthday in his ear and brought the cat in wearing a homemade paper birthday hat.

However, there is that minor inconvenience of THE ATLANTIC OCEAN (add six hours) and so I was forced to pair it down a bit. (Ahem, the minor element of still being unemployed likely played here as well.) I did wake him up singing him happy birthday but it was at six twenty because I couldn't stay up any later to hold of calling him. I scheduled his e-card to be sent so that he would receive it when he got to work because I knew I would be sleeping. I mailed his card late. ....That had nothing to do with distance though. I just suck at sending cards and gifts on time. ...His birthday present was made in digital.

Regardless the day was special. He has a Facecrack wall of people to show him he is loved. I received a perfectly timed Valentine in the mail, and I put on make-up our interweb date later in the afternoon. The only thing missing were the real life hugs.

In the meantime, I was spoiled (as I often am) by my sister's family celebration. There were pink waffles in the morning and chicken parmesan was for dinner. The girls dressed in pink and I demanded extra hugs from they and their brother which were willingly given up. The sun shone and the thermometer made the fifty degree mark.

I and the Boy aren't so worried about this Valentine's Birthday, though. We can probably make up for it sometime in the rest of our lives.

Only twenty-seven days until he is here. We will undoubtedly celebrate then, too.

Similarly

The Oatmeal came out with a new cartoon this week that I found quite appropriate to my current life. While I like to think that the inspiration for it came from an email I sent to the writer asking him to create something about the horrible awfulness (and demoralizing hopelessness) that is job searching, I am pretty sure he was just continuing a theme.

So in the theme of continuing a theme I would like to make a list of the real answers to my least favorite interview question EVER: What is your biggest weakness? Or, in other words "What do you suck at?" Okay, ready? Here goes.

• Remembering birthdays. If I don't have your birthday saved somewhere in my email, most likely I will forget it. Being my Friend on Facecrack will not ensure you a birthday wish.
• Exercise. I like walking. I actually don't mind going to the gym and using the fancy machines. But I would prefer to take a nap. Right after a big hamburger is the best. Mmmmm...
• Vacuuming. The boy knows what I am talking about.
• Guitar. I know three chords and am no longer capable of changing strings. I would love to be one of those people who just KNOWS how to play instruments, but alas...
• Being patient. Which is why I have never learned how to play guitar.
• Networking. I like meeting people and making friends, but I would prefer to have dinner parties with them than use them as business contacts.
• Not feeling guilty about stupid things. I was raised catholic. It's in my blood. But thankfully? There's an app for that.
• Staying up late (or getting up early). I am an early to bed, late to rise kind of girl.
• Emailing you back. I have no particular order in which I respond to emails. Sometimes I just forget.
• Planning. (Unless it's fun.)
• Making decisions. (Unless they're fun.)...
  

....and then on second thought....This list is neither extensive nor very original. ("Father, father, I must confess, I have had sex with my neighbor's wife." "HEARD IT. I want an original sin." "Oh, I...oh. I poked a badger with a spoon...")

What do you suck at?

In other terribly uninteresting news, Crest 3D white strips are horrible compared to Colgate's. I do not endorse.

God get me a job soon, before I become the most boring person on the face of the planet.

For Those of You Counting

I am still unemployed.

The Boy is coming stateside in four weeks and two days.

Average weekly nervous breakdowns = one and a half.

But I am getting better.

I am avoiding blogging. Just like I have done for the last six months. SO. LAME.

"Winter weather" sucks big hairy donkey balls.

All is made right again by Sister L's home cookin' and nightly chats with my fiance.

This is all true.