Time to Face the Baby Sitting


I Skyped with John Ater last night.

Thank God I had already cried off the majority of my eye make up by the time I had him queued up.

I would have been a wild mess.

I did lots of crying yesterday, but as I explained to a new friend last night, despite doing the same action expecting the same result, I was not going to hold onto it as long as I would have in the past.

I actually laughed about it all today.

Oh no, mom can’t send me the money.

Grow up kiddo.

Get a job.

“Well honey, it’s like this,” John said, templing his hands beneath his sage eyes, so bright, so quick, “you can come back crawling with your tail between your legs and go back and work at the bike shop again, or you can decide that you want to live in Paris and you get a nanny job.”

“The choice is yours, you made the decision to go, now make the decision to stay.” John concluded, chuckling at the f-bombs I was dropping left and right.

Then he told me the story about the man who was too good to work at McDonald’s and how after months without finding work in his field he finally went to McDonald’s and didn’t get the job.

He got home and there was a message from his old job asking him to come back.

In other words, take the action, let go of the results.

John also said, “have you asked for help yet?”


No, sort of, not really, well….

“Honey, you asked for help to get you to Paris, now ask for help to stay in Paris,” John laughed at me as I cried something out in profanity.

“It’s going to take you two years, two years to feel at home, stay put.”  He added, knowingly, goddamn does he know me, “you sound a little homesick too.”


For certain people, certain things, certain places.

I am home sick.

It’s great for the writing, I get inspired at all times of day and night.  I stopped fighting against the rising ache in my heart when I hear certain music or think about certain people, I just started using it.

I had my headphones on last night and I was doing a few last-minute things before heading to bed and the song came on and it was on shuffle and I certainly was not expecting to hear that at that moment.

The ache boomed.

Tears sprung to my eyes.

“Use it,” a voice said in my head.

I did not even think about it, I opened the Word application on my computer and I wrote out a sonnet.

Well, look at that.

I am constantly getting information and feeling so much, my skin a translucent thing, gossamer thin, I sit in the wash of the world and all my senses are assaulted and if I can just keep my head above water and let myself absorb the sensations and the smells and the sights, the smell of charcoal burning in the Metro, the smell of chestnuts literally roasting over a fire, the sight of a woman in full furs climbing the slick stairs in stilettos and emerging like Venus from the shell of the Metro station, the evergreen baby Christmas trees lacing the air with pungent sharp pine sap, the caress of a kiss on both sides of my cheeks, over full with light and sound and the sharp cold air in my nose, the slant of red lamps shimmering along cobblestones slick with rain.

The image well full.

That is the well from which I drink to satiate my thirst.

It can get intoxicating at times, I get dizzy with it.

There are so many things to see.

And hear.

Tomorrow is my last day in French class, not forever, I think there will be a time that I continue further.  I feel good with it, I got a taste of it, I got a month of good solid review and learned more and met wonderful people.

Wilmien and I

New friend

Wilmien had her last day today and I wanted to make sure I got a photograph of the two of us.

She is off on a mini-vacation with her husband for the weekend.  However, she will be back by my birthday and insisted that she was meeting me for coffee.

I am blessed.

I really am.

The class not only helped me square away some good French lessons, I got a new friend.

A new friend I hope to visit at some point in Afrique du Sud, from her descriptions it sounds amazing.  I am down to do more travelling.

I mentioned that in my craiglsit post today.

I put up a nanny ad.

I put it out to the world.

I grabbed a FUSAC, an expat Anglo magazine, to comb through the want ads.

I am going to the American Church on Saturday and will pull ads from the infamous bulletin board.

I told people I ran into tonight that I was not only looking, I was open to suggestions.

I actually got quite a few interesting ones.

I am open.

I want to stay.

I am ready to face the music, or the baby sitting, or the house sitting, or the whatever comes next.

I am not ready to go back to San Francisco.  Unless it is to file for my work VISA.  Then, well, I will hop a plane tout de suite.  For the moment, I am going to progress forward taking action that says, I am here, I want to be here, show me how you did it.

I am a suggestion sponge.

I will try anything, legal, no “special massage” for you, thank you very much.

No drug dealing.

I still have this weekend ahead of me to focus on getting the book done.  I really do believe that I can get it done by my birthday.  I edited a bit more today.  I am getting through.  The work is holding forth.

I am excited.

It could just be that the cold is finally lessening its grip on me, it could be that I am done living in fantasy land.

Either way, I am committed to be here.

In Paris.

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