Who am I? Where am I?
I've thought a lot about the French me (moi) and the American me.
On the outside, I'm the same in both locations. My clothes are basically the same, as is my hair, makeup, etc. I add a coat or a scarf in Paris, flip flops in Manhattan Beach. It was raining yesterday and I wore flip flops -- it's logical -- my feet will get wet anyway.
I eat a little bit differently in France. It's mainly because of availability. Different food is available in each location and I take advantage of the local cuisine. Little green lentils in Paris, ground turkey in the US.
My daily routine is quite a bit different. In Paris, my day centers around running errands, exercise (daily, if possible), study, cultural activities and friends.
In the US, running errands in a car makes this activity almost effortless. I exercise, but don't study too much. Cultural activities are almost nil except for movies, which are hard to call "culture". Family visits take up a lot of time and then there's grooming.
In France, I avoid getting a haircut, a facial or a manicure/pedicure. There are several reasons for this, including the language barrier and cleanliness issues. So, I avoid all grooming by outside salons unless absolutely necessary. This saves me a lot of time and money.
TV in France is pretty bad, so I read a lot more books in France. Probably a book a week. Our bookshelves are overflowing, even though I've been reading my Kindle since April.
"Me" plays tennis on hard courts. "Moi" plays on red clay. This time of year, the clay courts are covered.
"Me" goes to the Spectrum and watches TV while I work out. "Moi" walks or runs around the Luxembourg Gardens, no iPOD to keep me company because there's so much to see.
"Me" buys flowers at the Hermosa Beach farmer's market on Fridays. "Moi" buys flowers at the "Monceau Fleurs" on rue Vaugirard. After much research, these are the best local flower places.
"Moi" takes the sheets to a French laundry and they come back crisp and ironed. "Me" has Elma, who irons everything including my gym clothes.
Last year on New Year's Eve, we took the 82 bus to rue Cler and bought fresh oysters for our celebration. It was cold, almost snowing outside. This year, I bought lobster and swordfish, hopefully it will be good.
The most important thing is that I'm happy in both places. There's no adjustment needed, the switch from "Me" to "Moi" happens effortlessly.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Technical Support
It's certainly easier to troubleshoot technical problems in the US. We still have our problems. Sometimes they are easy to fix and other times, one fix leads to another breakage, a small chain reaction of technical stress.
It all started yesterday. At least that's when we first knew we had a problem. The problem started several weeks ago, created by a visit from the security system technician.
During the period of extreme jet lag after arriving from Paris, I set off the alarm in our house. The security system called and noted that we had a problem because when the alarm went off the phone in our house didn't work. A guy came out to fix it.
I wasn't home but Terry reported that the guy wired the security system to the phone system in a complicated maneuver, stringing the phone wire under the carpet in the room. We tested the alarm system, the only thing that we thought was broken. We were living in a fantasy world for several weeks, unknowing that this fix had disconnected our fax. Christmas came and went along with family visits, we didn't use the fax.
Then, I was expecting an important fax that didn't come. Luckily I didn't yell at the sender, since we were at fault. I checked the fax machine, no dial tone. ICK. After a call to our phone company, it was determined that the fax machine was not even connected to the phone line. A technician was dispatched.
This morning George came. He seemed thorough and determined that yes, the fax was not plugged in. He re-worked the phone cables and everything, including the phones, the fax, the TV, internet and wifi work.
But, the story won't be finished until this afternoon. In the cascade of fixes, we still have to have the security system checked to make sure that it will call the police if we have a break-in. Because, as we all know, one guy fixes one thing, only to cause another thing not to work.
In France, everyone agrees that it is better to never touch any electronic thing that works, even if it doesn't work very well. In the US, we're more brave, I wonder if we should be.
George also confirmed one thing that we worried about. Our internet line is split or shared with several other households. He wouldn't or couldn't tell us who we share with. But, if one person on the line is doing something illegal over the internet, it is as if we all are doing it. They have no way to know who is responsible. I've heard about this in France, too, where internet piracy is so illegal that if you're caught, you're permanently cut off from using the internet. I don't know how they do it, but I have to hope that whichever neighbors share our line, they're honest.
Right now, it all works, but we'll see what happens when the security system guy tinkers with it all.
It all started yesterday. At least that's when we first knew we had a problem. The problem started several weeks ago, created by a visit from the security system technician.
During the period of extreme jet lag after arriving from Paris, I set off the alarm in our house. The security system called and noted that we had a problem because when the alarm went off the phone in our house didn't work. A guy came out to fix it.
I wasn't home but Terry reported that the guy wired the security system to the phone system in a complicated maneuver, stringing the phone wire under the carpet in the room. We tested the alarm system, the only thing that we thought was broken. We were living in a fantasy world for several weeks, unknowing that this fix had disconnected our fax. Christmas came and went along with family visits, we didn't use the fax.
Then, I was expecting an important fax that didn't come. Luckily I didn't yell at the sender, since we were at fault. I checked the fax machine, no dial tone. ICK. After a call to our phone company, it was determined that the fax machine was not even connected to the phone line. A technician was dispatched.
This morning George came. He seemed thorough and determined that yes, the fax was not plugged in. He re-worked the phone cables and everything, including the phones, the fax, the TV, internet and wifi work.
But, the story won't be finished until this afternoon. In the cascade of fixes, we still have to have the security system checked to make sure that it will call the police if we have a break-in. Because, as we all know, one guy fixes one thing, only to cause another thing not to work.
In France, everyone agrees that it is better to never touch any electronic thing that works, even if it doesn't work very well. In the US, we're more brave, I wonder if we should be.
George also confirmed one thing that we worried about. Our internet line is split or shared with several other households. He wouldn't or couldn't tell us who we share with. But, if one person on the line is doing something illegal over the internet, it is as if we all are doing it. They have no way to know who is responsible. I've heard about this in France, too, where internet piracy is so illegal that if you're caught, you're permanently cut off from using the internet. I don't know how they do it, but I have to hope that whichever neighbors share our line, they're honest.
Right now, it all works, but we'll see what happens when the security system guy tinkers with it all.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Electronic Greeting
They're starting to come in. Via email. Nice little greetings.
They're not e-cards, these are special.
People make the cards themselves. They are all different and creative. They use their own artwork and photos, write their personal greetings. I am enjoying seeing them, receiving them.
One even came with a video of a friend's dog.
I love them all, but I still prefer to get the "snail" mail Christmas cards. I guess it's just traditional for me.
They're not e-cards, these are special.
People make the cards themselves. They are all different and creative. They use their own artwork and photos, write their personal greetings. I am enjoying seeing them, receiving them.
One even came with a video of a friend's dog.
I love them all, but I still prefer to get the "snail" mail Christmas cards. I guess it's just traditional for me.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Haven't We Had Enough Renoir?
In Paris this fall, there was a large exposition at the Grand Palais of Renoir. It was very popular. We have season passes to the Grand Palais, so we went. It was very crowded with many tour groups. We made the mistake of going on a Wednesday afternoon. School is out on Wednesdays, and there were many young children's groups as well.
I think the ease of looking at Renoir's work is what makes it so popular. A lot of pink-skinned, healthy looking women, some scenes, like the one above of middle class people having fun and of course, the nudes.
My friend, Caroline, told me a long story about how well-received Renoir was during his lifetime, and how he continued to paint into old age despite extremely bad arthritis.
I tried to enjoy the exposition, but even though the paintings are beautiful, it is not my taste.
Today, I received the bi-monthly bulletin from LACMA (Los Angeles Museum of Art) of which I am also a member. Just like the Grand Palais, they have several major exhibitions every year. Note that they say "expositions" in French and "exhibitions" in English. I always mix the two up.
The cover photo for the LACMA catalog is a huge Renoir painting. Hmmm. I looked inside to learn that LACMA will have a major Renoir exhibition starting in February. This show has been organized in conjunction with le Reunion des Musees Nationaux (France) and le Musee d'Orsay. Hmmmm. Didn't I just see this?
The description of the exhibition claims that this is new. They go further to compare Renoir's later work to the Old Masters, as he moved away from his Impressionist roots.
I'll have to go, it's free with membership. Maybe I'll see it in a new light. I'm open.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
I Saw Five Movies
With all the holiday visits, I'd forgotten that I hit the movie jackpot on the flight. I saw five movies and still had time to eat two meals, read a little of my book and take a nap.
The movies are:
The September Issue
Neuilly Sa Mere
Seraphine
Le Herisson
Whatever Works
I had wanted to see them all and I liked them.
The movies are:
The September Issue
Neuilly Sa Mere
Seraphine
Le Herisson
Whatever Works
I had wanted to see them all and I liked them.
H1N1 Vaccines, Thanks, CVS
After having had a very bad virus in Paris a few years ago, I've been very careful to avoid getting sick. With all the publicity about the new H1N1 virus, I wanted to be first in line to get the shot.
This was much harder than expected. In France, we don't have a regular doctor and aren't on the French social medical system. We purchase health insurance for emergencies only. For the normal flu shots, we just go to our neighborhood pharmacy, buy two shots and give them to each other. The H1N1 shots, however, were only available at vaccination centers and only for priority patients. We are not a priority in France. So, we tried to follow all the other rules to avoid contagion, washing hands, eating properly, etc. We didn't get the flu, not even on the cramped 11-1/2 hour flight home.
It's hard to stay healthy in Paris during the cold and flu season. We take public transportation everywhere. It's crowded and people are not conscious of covering their nose or mouth for a cough or sneeze. I feel like I'm holding my breath half the time.
Back in the US, we found out that we are not in the priority categories for getting the shots either. Maybe it's a little easier but not much. So, we waited, using our hand sanitizers like crazy in public places.
Terry finally found out that if we become patients of a medical group in Manhattan Beach, they would give us the shots, so he got us each an appointment. It seemed like a small price to pay to get the shots. But, three days before Christmas, who feels like meeting a new doctor, filling out the forms, answering all the dumb questions. Not me. Plus Eileen and Aidan had been there yesterday and she reported that everyone in the waiting room was visibly sick.
Today, we got lucky. After the gym this morning, I was running errands and I remembered that the CVS pharmacy has a walk-in medical clinic. So, I decided to try it out. It took me about 10 minutes to find a parking place, but I got one and went inside. I filled out the electronic form on a computer and the minute I pushed send, a door opened and a nice woman called my name. No waiting, I guess. I got the shot and was back in my car in less than five minutes.
Later in the day, I went back with Terry who had a similar experience. No more worries about this pandemic.
I do have concerns though. Why has it taken both the US and France 5-6 months to get a vaccine out to the general public? What if this was smallpox or something more deadly? Keep the hand sanitizer handy.
This was much harder than expected. In France, we don't have a regular doctor and aren't on the French social medical system. We purchase health insurance for emergencies only. For the normal flu shots, we just go to our neighborhood pharmacy, buy two shots and give them to each other. The H1N1 shots, however, were only available at vaccination centers and only for priority patients. We are not a priority in France. So, we tried to follow all the other rules to avoid contagion, washing hands, eating properly, etc. We didn't get the flu, not even on the cramped 11-1/2 hour flight home.
It's hard to stay healthy in Paris during the cold and flu season. We take public transportation everywhere. It's crowded and people are not conscious of covering their nose or mouth for a cough or sneeze. I feel like I'm holding my breath half the time.
Back in the US, we found out that we are not in the priority categories for getting the shots either. Maybe it's a little easier but not much. So, we waited, using our hand sanitizers like crazy in public places.
Terry finally found out that if we become patients of a medical group in Manhattan Beach, they would give us the shots, so he got us each an appointment. It seemed like a small price to pay to get the shots. But, three days before Christmas, who feels like meeting a new doctor, filling out the forms, answering all the dumb questions. Not me. Plus Eileen and Aidan had been there yesterday and she reported that everyone in the waiting room was visibly sick.
Today, we got lucky. After the gym this morning, I was running errands and I remembered that the CVS pharmacy has a walk-in medical clinic. So, I decided to try it out. It took me about 10 minutes to find a parking place, but I got one and went inside. I filled out the electronic form on a computer and the minute I pushed send, a door opened and a nice woman called my name. No waiting, I guess. I got the shot and was back in my car in less than five minutes.
Later in the day, I went back with Terry who had a similar experience. No more worries about this pandemic.
I do have concerns though. Why has it taken both the US and France 5-6 months to get a vaccine out to the general public? What if this was smallpox or something more deadly? Keep the hand sanitizer handy.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A Smooth Get-Away
Planning for every known catastrophe, we check and double-check our plane and taxi reservations, we pack early, lock up our suitcases, turn off water, gas, electricity, notify friends. We can never be too careful.
There's always a new wrinkle to every trip. The taxi doesn't show up, there's a greve and traffic is completely blocked, we leave something on or open.
No exception this week. We were taking our suitcases down the elevator in the dark early morning hours. Trying to be quiet for our neighbors. Trying to make a smooth get-away.
I was stationed at the bottom on the ground floor, taking the suitcases out of the elevator and lining them up inside the door to the street. As I watched the elevator, which was supposed to be heading my way with one last load, but instead of going down, it went up. Yikes. Then, I heard an awful elevator noise like the doors were unsuccessfully opening and then closing, frantically trying to expel our suitcases.
I raced up the stairs, grabbed Terry and we went up. The suitcases were stuck in the door.
Evidently one of the suitcases tipped or rolled into the buttons for the floors. When it rolled, it also stuck in the little accordion doors inside the main door. After five frantic minutes, seeing our flight leave without us, we freed the suitcases, got out to the street and into our waiting taxi.
There's always a new wrinkle to every trip. The taxi doesn't show up, there's a greve and traffic is completely blocked, we leave something on or open.
No exception this week. We were taking our suitcases down the elevator in the dark early morning hours. Trying to be quiet for our neighbors. Trying to make a smooth get-away.
I was stationed at the bottom on the ground floor, taking the suitcases out of the elevator and lining them up inside the door to the street. As I watched the elevator, which was supposed to be heading my way with one last load, but instead of going down, it went up. Yikes. Then, I heard an awful elevator noise like the doors were unsuccessfully opening and then closing, frantically trying to expel our suitcases.
I raced up the stairs, grabbed Terry and we went up. The suitcases were stuck in the door.
Evidently one of the suitcases tipped or rolled into the buttons for the floors. When it rolled, it also stuck in the little accordion doors inside the main door. After five frantic minutes, seeing our flight leave without us, we freed the suitcases, got out to the street and into our waiting taxi.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
One Trick I Haven't Learned Yet
I'm hopeful that in 2010 I'll be able to keep track of my "stuff".
There are certain things that I don't need in one place or the other. I really don't need a winter coat in Manhattan Beach, a leather jacket and/or a thin jacket will do. Bathing suits, shorts, pareos (those things you can tie in a million different ways over a bathing suit) are exclusive to Manhattan Beach.
The "grey" area is everything else. I have a couple of role models. They make it look so easy. Terry takes literally every item of clothing back and forth. Maybe he leaves his winter coat in Paris, but the rest of it goes right back into the suitcase each time.
Another role model is Mary. She travels between the US and Paris with just a carry on bag. In this one small bag, she carries her laptop and cameras, so there's not much room for anything else, maybe a few gifts. She claims to have a duplicate wardrobe. My hero.
I've tried to duplicate a few of the key items, especially shoes which are heavy and bulky in the suitcase. Books have been virtually eliminated with the Kindle. I have identical tennis rackets in each location. So, the problem lies in the clothing area.
I do leave a lot of stuff in Paris. For example, I don't really wear suits of any kind in the US, so they stay. Jeans go back and forth, it's hard to find one pair with just the right cut, color and comfort, two would be really hard. This time of year, a few sweaters will make the trip. A skirt, just in case. Tennis clothes (not shoes) travel, workout clothes stay. I'm confused already.
When we first started doing this in 2002, I devised an inventory system. I use a spiral notebook and write down the things left behind. Then, I use another set of pages to write down things that are needed. Invariably the one thing that I'm looking for has been left off the list. I looked for a sweater for over a year. I finally found it when we moved from rue de Seine. It had fallen off the hanger and was bunched up under the shoes in the closet.
I think I've improved until the whole system breaks down. Where is that...???
There are certain things that I don't need in one place or the other. I really don't need a winter coat in Manhattan Beach, a leather jacket and/or a thin jacket will do. Bathing suits, shorts, pareos (those things you can tie in a million different ways over a bathing suit) are exclusive to Manhattan Beach.
The "grey" area is everything else. I have a couple of role models. They make it look so easy. Terry takes literally every item of clothing back and forth. Maybe he leaves his winter coat in Paris, but the rest of it goes right back into the suitcase each time.
Another role model is Mary. She travels between the US and Paris with just a carry on bag. In this one small bag, she carries her laptop and cameras, so there's not much room for anything else, maybe a few gifts. She claims to have a duplicate wardrobe. My hero.
I've tried to duplicate a few of the key items, especially shoes which are heavy and bulky in the suitcase. Books have been virtually eliminated with the Kindle. I have identical tennis rackets in each location. So, the problem lies in the clothing area.
I do leave a lot of stuff in Paris. For example, I don't really wear suits of any kind in the US, so they stay. Jeans go back and forth, it's hard to find one pair with just the right cut, color and comfort, two would be really hard. This time of year, a few sweaters will make the trip. A skirt, just in case. Tennis clothes (not shoes) travel, workout clothes stay. I'm confused already.
When we first started doing this in 2002, I devised an inventory system. I use a spiral notebook and write down the things left behind. Then, I use another set of pages to write down things that are needed. Invariably the one thing that I'm looking for has been left off the list. I looked for a sweater for over a year. I finally found it when we moved from rue de Seine. It had fallen off the hanger and was bunched up under the shoes in the closet.
I think I've improved until the whole system breaks down. Where is that...???
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Adjectives
It seems so simple, the use of adjectives.
In French, I can certainly read, write and understand adjectives. They actually slow the sentence down enough that I can grasp the basic meaning of things better. The more adjectives the better.
For me, the hard part is using adjectives while speaking. I can, of course, say that the weather is nice or the water is cold.
Adjectives get more complex than that. I've been using adjectives as much as possible. My favorites might give some indication about my life in France. The words shy, trite, guilty and rude come to mind. The "nice" adjectives are the ones they teach during the first few French lessons; beautiful, warm, interesting. Boring, aren't they?
I'll be working on adjectives for awhile, so bear with me.
In French, I can certainly read, write and understand adjectives. They actually slow the sentence down enough that I can grasp the basic meaning of things better. The more adjectives the better.
For me, the hard part is using adjectives while speaking. I can, of course, say that the weather is nice or the water is cold.
Adjectives get more complex than that. I've been using adjectives as much as possible. My favorites might give some indication about my life in France. The words shy, trite, guilty and rude come to mind. The "nice" adjectives are the ones they teach during the first few French lessons; beautiful, warm, interesting. Boring, aren't they?
I'll be working on adjectives for awhile, so bear with me.
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