Change of Address, ATTACK

I think changing apartments is generally 457% more complicated in France than in the United States. For example: step 1, call the internet company and ask them to cancel our service. They're speaking too fast in too much French and insisting I tell them "why," so I hang up in fear and have TMI call back. We need to know our landline phone number; somehow our name and address aren't good enough to locate our account. We scramble around to find it on our old paperwork. Once the cancellation is finally agreed upon, we get to pay them a 45 euros cancellation fee. I was prepared to tell them to allait te faire foutre, but TMI insisted that was normal practice in these parts. Then, the internet doesn't actually stop until they mail you a shipping label, you find a box, and stuff all of your hardware (router, modem, etc.) into the box, and then WALK to the other side of town to one of their authorized drop off stations. woo! Setting up a new account in the new apartment was a similar process but in reverse- it also required a 10 day activation period. 

The electricity was arguably worse. After I had retured the apartment keys to the agency, it was discovered that to cut the electricity  I needed a number on an electric counter somewhere in the apartment. I walked to the agency, got the keys, got the number and walked back. Called the service provider. I needed TWO numbers. I HULK SMASHHED the phone and then walked BACK to the agency and repeated that last steps. 

The complications, mishaps, and cancellation fees were attacking from all sides. Now that it seems to be over, I'm sort of hiding out in the apartment and peering fearfully around the curtains, waiting for some other institution I forgot to deal with to AMBUSH. 

The Perfect Pumpkin Curry

Every week I receive a "panier bio," or,  a burlap sack of organic seasonal fruits and veggies. It's pretty cool. I've been getting a lot of pumpkin lately so my new favorite thing is to cut one in half, bake it, and use one part for a pumpkin bread and the other for a curry. The result is that my pumpkin bread still sucks but my pumpkin curry could slay an army. Oh so ono.

Okay so cutting to the chase:

a chunk of baked pumpkin

400 ml of coconut milk

250 g of white beans

2 baked, russet potatoes

1/2 cup raisins 

1/2 cup shredded purple cabbage

about 3 medium carrots, cut into curry sized pieces

1 medium onion

1 shallot

2 tbs olive oil

1/4 cup water

seasonings:

A LOT of curry powder, about 11/2 tbs, until broth is dark yellow

1 tsp cinnamon 

1/2 tsp coriander 

1 tsp crushed basil

1/2 paprika (mostly to give the curry a nice color)

salt and pepper to taste

Process:

Heat the olive oil in a large wok and then add onion, carrots, shallot, and purple cabbage. Saute until golden. Add coconut milk and spices and reduce heat. Cover and let simmer until carrot is soft when poked with a fork. Taste constantly and ad spices until the broth is to your liking! Add white beans and raisins. Cut your cooked potato and pumpkin into curry sized chunks and add to the pan. Cover and let simmer for about 20 minutes or until you can't stand the amazing smell anymore. Serve on jasmine rice. And save some for lunch tomorrow - it's even better the next day :)

Capacity for Placid Romance

There has indeed been a long hiatus. And I aint sayin' the drought is over, but all the same there is plenty to be said.

First, the bad news: Life is domestic and I'm fidel in a committed relationship.

..Coincidentally that also sums up the good news.

I'm back in France and, after two months apart while I pined in the Hawaiian islands, my French significant other and I have resettled into a normal sized apartment. (-At last casting away our tiny studio.) It is both very French and typically eccentric. Marble fireplace, high ceilings,  wrought iron watch-ma-callit on the terrace, window over the tub that looks into the kitchen, etc.

The first of December will be our 1 year and 6 month anniversary. We seem to be very in love and yet drama still befalls me. Night before last, we sat in a bar having drinks with a feared red head who, I know on good authority,  pursued and made out with my mate mere months before we met. She doesn't know that I know, but dang, I know. And I also know what it's like to be in her situation. It's sort of a sexy, dangerous situation and I don't like it. So let's get even more irrational: She's like, 4'11'', weird shaped, and way smarter than I am. I'm some times a model but mostly a retard. So I got drunk and ate French fries and convinced myself that she was hotter and more spectacular in every way so that when we got home later in the night I locked myself in the bathroom and cried over my piteous self doubt. Damn! I was reading yesterday about eremites and penitents who would go into the desert for 40 years to have a change of heart. If those guys started hating themselves or suffering self doubt, it was demonic possession. No question about it.

My apartment is nice but my capacity for placid romance is next to nothing. 

The Heart is an Idiot but it Always Wins

Friday night, and they day before my brother’s wedding. I remember calculating at the age of like, 8, that possibly by the time I was 16 he could be getting married. I couldn’t wait for the wedding and hoped ardently that I would be right. It kind of adds an interesting aire of nostalgia that tonight, at 24, I am where I am and feeling the way I do hours before the event. -Also that I’ve still, to this day, never been to a wedding.

I’m going back to France on Monday, and I know that in spite of my love for the country, it’s not exactly the responsible or wise thing to be doing. With my current education, (an undergrad in art history and one year into my MA in art admin with a flawless GPA) I could move to San Francisco, Portland, or any US city of my choice and find well paying gallery positions that I am more than qualified to take. Would this make me happy? Yes. Would this be a wise move for my future career? Definitely. Would I undoubtedly meet scads of entertaining people and assuredly fall in love again? My heart squeaks a little here but my brain answers “of course.”

So what this boils down to is that I’m being an idiot. I love France and yes, I’m in love with someone in France. But neither he or the country are particularly likely to become home or family, so nesting there and biding my time just in case one or the other should become a reality is romantic, but probably 100% retarded.

What am I doing and how many people are wondering when I'm going to snap out of it? 

Exclusivity Before Commitment

I thought girl talk was supposed to clarify, sort through, and expand on man issues. In France I've missed out on this kind of banter for the past 2 years, and now I can say, returning from an evening of presque non-stop man/dating/interpreting of hidden messages chatter, I have never been more confused. 

Tonight I was told that the "girlfriend/boyfriend" thing works for guys, because they can date a woman for years and never consider marrying her, but it doesn't work for women. Women apparently don't have monogamous sexual relationships without attachment and a goal of commitment. The open-ended intimacy doesn't work with us. So! What is the solution according to my gal pals? No committed relationships until marriage: in other words, no exclusivity until someone is willing to offer commitment in exchange. 

Apparently it's ok to stop having sex with other people, but dating should remain open until the one "steps up" (I prefer sacks up) and is ready to give you commitment in exchange for  your fidelity and exclusivity. (Which, as the theory goes, would work since women can't give that without getting attached.)

This tends to go against my current belief system which tells me good love and good relationships come from monogamy and intimacy, so go for it, but my attached and insecure side wonders if I'm doing it all wrong.  

Is it ok to give it all? Or are we giving it all to soon?