Sombre

A couple of vendredis (vehn-drah-dee: Fridays) ago I got stuck on the train while on my way to work on a bleak, cold, and overcast January morning.  All of the thousands of passengers on le train (luh tran: the train) were told that there had been a "technical problem" on the tracks, and that all the trains for the rest of the morning would becanceled.  Wondering just how a technical problem could cause a virtual breakdown of the Parisian railway out of Gare Saint-Lazare, it wasn't until the next week that les maitresses (lay may-tres: the teachers) at my school told me that someone had, in fact, thrown themselves onto the tracks.  Apparently--and very sadly--suicide by train is incredibly common during the sombre (som-bruh: somber) winter season.

While I don't understand (but instead feel incredibly sorry for) the desperation that suicidal people feel, I can to a much lesser extent appreciate the havoc that the cold, le noir (luh nwa: the dark), and the gloomy days of winter can play on the le cerveau (luh serv-oh: the brain).  The lack of warmth on my face, the fact that the sun starts setting during my lunch hour, and the diminishing bank account funds thanks to Christmas shopping splurges just in time to remind me that I have to file my taxes have all left me feeling a pit of solitude in my stomach and, at the risk of being overtly poetic, a pinch of cold bitterness in my soul.

Even in the most romantique (row-mahn-teek: romantic) city on Earth (or so the French keep on telling me), I can't help but wake-up every morning feeling a tinge of an emotional hangover from too much deep thinking while alone in my room at night.  No, in fact, especially in the most romantique city like Paris does one end up getting caught-up in the loneliness of winter.  In a city where everyone is supposed to be overwhelmed by beauty and love, the bare trees and nights alone in bed from December to March eventually make even the most fabulous French person feel like maybe there's something in life that's, somehow, lacking...  Lucky for me, my winter sadness doesn't leave me feeling desperate but anxious, and I end up listening to a lot of Billie Holiday and Nina Simone, certain that they're the only two women in the world who can vocalize my pain d'hiver (dee-ver: of winter).


I'm sure this sadness is just from lack of vitamin B in my veins, but it's amazing just how much janvier (jon-vee-ay: January) can remind a person how much is going wrong in their life, even when that life is full of wonderful opportunities, great friends and family, living out a dream in Paris and keeping busy all the time.  Usually it takes me until April to thaw myself out of this peril and into a happier state of mental reflection, coincidentally right around the time le soleil (luh so-lay) comes out of hiding and I can start wearing dresses again.  To all of you experiencing sunshine and 70 degree weather in California: I hate you.

Les Femmes

Growing up in the land of wearing sweatpants to class and flip-flops being acceptable footwear to wear to work, it always kind of shocks me when I see les femmes (lay fehm: the ladies) of Paris strutting their stuff in gray and black toned pencil skirts, scarves, and high-heels on a daily basis.

Don't get me wrong, I love  Parisian fashion (though the lack of color gets kind of boring after awhile).  I feel like I've finally arrived where I truly belong because I've always been a merciless addict of high heels myself.  While the issue is up for debate, I've never been a believer that dressing to accentuate a woman's curves necessarily reduces said woman into a sex object. And since the Parisian hommes (om: men) put just as much--if not more--care into how they look as the women here, Parisian fashion doesn't strike me right off as sexist or archaic, but yet just another way to conform (yes, sadly enough) but look good while doing it.

That being said, there's still a lot of overt sexism (not to mention racism, but that's for a different blog) to be witnessed on the streets of Paris, in the workplace, in the home, hell anywhere there's a woman to be found in France.  Men still openly and shamlessly flirt with women at work while the ring on their finger is a dead giveaway that they're assholes, ass grabbing on the subway is de rigeur (duh ree-gor: a normal occurance), and if the constant winks and oh-too-friendly bisous (bee-zoo: kisses) the bartender at "my café" at work gives me is any indication, women are expected to feel flattered by this unwelcome pattern of male attention and not say a word.

Still, like anywhere in the Western world, feminism has made strides toward equality for girls in France, as is shown by the following little diddy that I found pinned-up to the wall in the teacher's lounge at work, next to the headline "pour faire un rire" (por fer uhn reer: for a laugh): a copy of a page from a textbook for a 1960s home economics class for Catholic French girls.

Now, the original text is in French, and I'm translating everything on my own so the wording might seem a bit off here and there, but if you're interested and in the mood to roll your eyes a bit, I've highlighted the best parts from the piece below.  And to think, this was considered standard and necessary learning for women a mere 50 years ago!

"Authentic extract from a scholarly Catholic manual for the Domestic Economy for Women, published in 1960:

'Make sure dinner is ready

Prepare your dinner things in advance, the night prior if need be, so that a delicious meal awaits your husband when he comes home from work.  It's a way of letting him know that you have thought of him and you worry yourself with his needs.  Most men are hungry when they get home from work as soon as they get in the door and the idea of a good meal (particularly his favorite dish) is a necessary part of warming his heart.

Be Ready

Take 15 minutes to nap before your husband comes home so that you're well-rested and ready for his return.  Touch-up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh and attentive.  He spent a day in the company of men charged-up with the worries of work.  Be a joy to him and a bit more interesting than his previous company.  His hard day has a need of being enlivened and it's your duty to fulfill this need.


Pick-up the house

Make one last round about the house just before your husband gets home.  Tidy-up the books, games, papers, etc. and dust the tables.

During the coldest months of the year

You must light the fire in the chimney, after which it puts itself out.  Your husband will return home to a sentiment of having been awaited for in order relax and that will make you just as happy.  Making sure his every comfort is met will also give you immense personal satisfaction.


Reduce noise to a minimum

At the moment of his arrival, eleiminate all the noise of the washing machine, dryer or vacuum.  Try to encourage your children to be at their most calm.  Be happy to see him.  Welcome him with a warming smile and show him the sincerity in your desire to please him.


Listen to him

It might be that you have a dozen important things to tell him, but his arrival home is not the time to bring these up.  Let him speak first, remember that his topics of conversation are more important than yours.  Be of the sort where the evening pertains to him.


Never complain if he comes home late

Men leave for dinner or to go to other fun places without you.  When this happens, try to make your home a place of peace, order, and tranquility or else your husband will lose body and spirit.


Don't bother him with your complaints and problems

Don't complain if he is late coming home for dinner or if he stays out all night.  Consider this problem minor compared to what he has to deal with all day.   Make him comfortable when he does come home.  Propose that he relax in a comfortable chair or that he rest in bed.  Prepare him a hot or cold drink.  Suggest he take off his coat and oragnize his things for him.  Speak in a soothing, soft, pleasant voice.  Never ask him questions that put into question his judgement or integrity.  Remember that he is the master of the house and that above all, he exercises his role with justice and honesty.

As soon as he has finished his dinner, clear the table and do the dishes very quickly

If your husband proposes that he help you, decline his offer or else he risks feeling obliged to help you clear the table every night after a very long day of labor at work; he doesn't need anymore additional work.  Encourage your husband to take part in one of his favorite past-times and to concentrate on his center of interest and show your interest in everything he does without ever giving the impression of trespassing on his domaine.  If you have past-times yourself, make it so that you never mention them in front of him, because the interests of women are often very insignificant compared to those of men.


At the end of the evening

Tidy-up the house so that it's ready for the next morning and think of preparing breakfast in advance. Breakfast for your husband is essential if he must face the outside world in a positive way.  Once you've both retired to the bedroom, prepare yourself to get to bed as quickly as possible.


Regarding feminine hygiene

It's of great importance, though your tired husband might not have time to wait in line to use the bathroom.  So make sure to do your bathroom ritual quickly before going to bed.  Try to have an advantageous appearance without trying too hard.  If you wish to put on night cream or curlers before going to sleep, wait until your husband has fallen asleep, because it might shock him to see you in such an ugly state.



Concerning intimate relations with your husband


It's important that your remember your marriage vows and in particular your obligation to obey your husband.  If he predicts that he'll need to go to sleep right away, it's because he truly needs to.  In any case, be guided by the desires of your husband and never under any circumstance provoke or try to stimulate an intimate relation.


If your husband suggests sleeping together


Accepting with humility all while keeping up the spirit of pleasure of your husband is more important than keeping up the pleasure of a woman, and as he's approaching orgasm, a little gyrating on your part will encourage him and be satisfying enough to assure him that all pleasure possible on your part has been attained.

If your husband suggests something a bit strange in the bedroom

Show your obedience and resignation toward his suggestion, but indicate your lack of enthusiasm by keeping silent.  It is probable that your husband will sleep better; adjust your clothes, refresh yourself and apply your night cream and care for your hair.

You can then wake-up for another day

There is little time to get ready before he wakes up in the morning.  This time will permit you to get his cup of tea ready for him on the nightstand so it's there as soon as he wakes up in the morning.'"

...all I can say to this?  Oh, la nostalgie (lah nost-al-jee: nostalgia)!  And that, as much as pre-WWII culture fascinates me, I'm so lucky I was born after the release of The Feminine Mystique!

Time

Well, it's officially a new year, which means a whole new batch of 365 days in which I can procrastinate in, starting with my blog, apparently. And what better way to usher in 2011 than by celebrating it in front of what is known as one of the most reliable time pieces on the planet: Big Ben in London? There is no better way, I tell you!

Yes, as the completely spoiled person that I am, I was able to spend 2011 in London on the river Thames, just steps in front of the Houses of Parliament while throngs of drunk, puking hipsters and tourists from the world over danced in the streets while taking thousands of pictures of themselves having a fabulous time in fabulous London so they could post those pictures onto Facebook to make sure all their less fabulous friends are constantly reminded of just how jealous they should be. Andrew did one better, though: he posted video, which I've included above for your viewing pleasure. It's said that a picture is worth a thousand words, so a YouTube video must be worth the past two blog posts I missed and then some, right? 

The madness that is the New Year Celebration in London is very much reflective of the United Kingdom's worship of promptness and devotion to the Ticking Clock.  Too many songs have been written about the British obsession of time, and I'm reminded here of the aptly-named Pink Floyd song "Time", where they sing "Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time (...) Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way".  Oh so true, Pink Floyd, oh so true.  

Americans are pretty much the same as the British in this regard.  I secretly think Brits and Americans get so hyped up about the New Year because we are all secretly addicted to watching the clock tick by, seeing our lives flash before our eyes, feeling guilty by every project we know we're putting off (like my blog, for example), but New Year's Eve is the one time we actually sit around and watch the clock tick by WITH FRIENDS, celebrating this national obsession cum illness out in the open with glasses of champagne and kissing, which makes the activity much more stimulating.

The French, by all accounts I've heard, love New Year's because it's an excuse to drink, but the New Year celebrations in Paris are tame by London's standards because the French have a very different philosophy about time, which is called "relaxe un peu, merde!" (ree-lax uhn poo, meh-rd: chill the fuck out!).  I've come up with the French translation myself, so if anyone out there speaks enough French to come-up with something better, let me know!  

No French person I know would ever feel guilty about putting something off or feel rushed by the ticking of a clock, or even feel compelled to notice if a clock is actually working.  Instead, they seem to work more by their own internal French clocks, which conveniently afford them all the time they need.  So why get so excited about the stroke of midnight on one particular night in the year?  The French have spent their history avoiding deadlines, there's no reason to start stressing about the impending New Year now.

But I'm not French, as hard as I try: I'm still just as American as my drunkard Irish Catholic/Scottish/Mexican ancestors allow me to be.  So you'd think I'd realize while listening to the stroke of midnight during one of the craziest New Year's parties on the planet just how quickly time creeps up, yet still I manage to put things off. Now the holidays are over, my busy month has come to an end with the departure of Andrew back to the States, and suddenly it's come to my attention that we're three weeks into 2011 and I'm running three weeks behind. But since the French have a much more laid back attitude toward deadlines than the British and Americans do, I figure I must be, somehow, running right on schedule. So, Happy New Year, everyone! Over two weeks late, yet right on time.