Il y a quelque chose qui manque...

As I sit on the pier to nothing, I contemplate what I am doing.

While I enjoy the friendship of the seasons

I trust that nothing can make life a burden for me.

Happy Birthday, Phillip. ( I know that you hate this common misspelling of your name. It's intentional.)

Today has been an unusual day. It began with a desire to sleep for as long as I could humanly withstand the dark. I surrendered. I raised my white flag to combat the melancholy.

The salon introduced me to her might. She raised her strong hands. She taunted me, she slowly plowed her fists of malcontent into my visage. She ruined me. I coyly handed her my white flag, doused in crimson paint. I don't need it any longer, I said.

My mother called. I spoke with her. It was cordial. Hello? Hey, is Ian with you? No. Where are you? I'm at a coffee shop. Where is he? He's at grandma's, he said he needs to do some stuff around her house tomorrow. Oh. She sniffles. You always take their side. -silence-

I throw in that dingy white flag one last time.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Ce que je veux

Parfois, j'aime pas trop ce qui se passe dans ma vie. Je sais bien que c'est pas une question de ce que la vie emporte mais plutot une question de ce que j'avais fait.

Je suis la. Dans un sens, confondu. Dans l'autre, petrifie. Je sais meme pas quoi faire. Ca c'est nouveau. Il y a des trucs qui sont la, ils sont toujours la. Mais, je monte sur cette montagne d'incertitude. Je ne sais pas quel genre de travail je voudrais faire. Je n'ai que mes amis. Ca suffit, je crois.

Et aussi, j'ai leo. j'ai mon amour, ce personnage d'un lion. lui, il sait ce qu'il veut. il veut vivre, vraiment vivre. il veut vivre pour ecrire. ou, veut-il ecrire pour vivre? moi, je peux pas distinguer. c'est dur cette vie.

je veux son coeur. je veux le voir chaque jour. je veux me reveiller a cote de lui.

mais pas de chance, isaac.

pas de bol.

je peux pas voir la seule chose que je veux.

Alora

Voici-le.

Au debut, c'etait moi devant lui.
je ne faisais rien.
j'etais seul devant lui.
faisant rien.

Et mon regard, il le traversait.
je ne l'ai meme pas vu.
donc, c'etait moi tout seul.

Une fois, j'ai ete seul, comme d'habitude
devant lui sans le voir.

Il m'a vu.
Il m'a vu de l'autre cote de la salle.
La salle vide avec personne sauf moi.
Et maintenant lui.

Il s'approchait.
Il disait quelque chose.
Il demandait quelque question.
Bizarre.

J'ai pas vu avant.

J'ai pas de bol!

Upon arrival in Verdun, goal one was to find a cafe to call my own. I want to be a local. After very minimal searching (one because it was one of the first I tried and two because there are only so many cafes), I found it. Vitali's was to become the new homestead.

After frequenting Vitali's several times with friends, teachers, etc I realized that one of the bartenders/waiters was extremely attractive. Now, don't get me wrong. He's no "knight in shining armor," "charming prince" attractive. He's normal attractive. He has no superfluous features. He doesn't have a huge nose, he doesn't have an incredible physique. He's normal. Yet, he's gorgeous.

Normally in Vitali's we're all English speakers so we very rarely speak in French. Thus, I'd imagine all of the bar staff were quite intimidated by us. Needless to say, we had very minimal activity between us and them.

Using this distance to our benefit, we speculated. We decided that two bartenders were married, the female of which happened to be the daughter of the owners, etc. My world was undone, however, when I asked a student of mine (friends with the female bartender) if the two bartenders are married. His response was to scoff at me. Well shit, we had it all wrong!

Now the big question, why aren't they married?

Because Jen and I have begun to frequent rather frequently and for prolonged periods of time, I think they have become much more comfortable around us. So, the male bartender (hot) has started talking to us. Recently, he locked the doors to the bar whilst we were there and offered us drinks until we wanted to leave. We continued to talk for hours on end, about random things. Nothing majorly important. Since we were unsure of his general sexuality, I asked Anne-Isabelle, Verdun's own fag hag. She happens to be one of my teachers as well. She confirmed suspicions that he is, in fact, a homosexual. She was disappointed to inform me that he is taken and has a dog with the boyfriend (aka he's married).

Wow. Now with all that said, I can very happily say that the past four days have been spent in Vitali's talking to Axel Delandre. I am, for what it's worth, infatuated beyond belief. I will try to slyly take pictures so I can post them (and you can see him). We have talked about many many things but the gay topic and the boyfriend topic have not come up. Although, the opportunities have arisen.

A toute a l'heure!

and all work is empty save when there is love

work has become quite the blessing. obviously i was not too content with the teaching profession at first. i dealt with it. i stomached it, even.

i then discovered that the amount of preparation is directly related to the contentment with which i get from the class. so, i prepared. discovery then told me that preparation was silly. i take questions to class, i force the students to answer them. this technique seems to work best, at least for my students.

having learned that, i can say that i'm actually enjoying the genre of work with which i've been charged. as an example, i decided, per request of a student, to meet a small group of guys every saturday night at a local cafe. these guys truly make an effort and, it seems, they absolutely love having me as an assistant. that attitude changes things.


even though i am enjoying the job, i'm still very uncertain if i should teach in the future. it's exhausting. teaching a foreign language is a very painful process.

knowing that you are helping people that want to help themselves is one of the best feelings i've ever experienced.

Little boxes, on the hillside

I have discovered something relatively useful in future endeavors: no matter what obstacle is thrown at someone, he will always react similarly despite the gravity of the situation.

Friday night, Kateri had her birthday party. Considering she's about as fish-like as Amber, we had a night out on the town. We started the night in her apartment with a bottle of Vodka and various other drinks, and quickly head out to Le Lapin qui Fume. Already with a decent buzz, we all drank (whiskey for me) a good bit. After a few glasses of whiskey, I decided to peace out with the birthday girl and her boyfriend.

5 am, I wake up.

"Hello?"
"I'm in the hospital. Come get me."

Suzanne called me from the hospital in Verdun (I have no idea where it is). She was in hysterics and insisted that I come get her. Again, I had no idea where it was.

I stayed up another 30 minutes in anticipation that she'd call back to let me know how to find her. No call. I find out around 5 pm the same day that she had been in the hospital because she slammed her finger in the door at the only night club in Verdun. Not only that, but she had fallen on numerous accounts on the dance floor. Needless to say she was slightly hu um inebriated. Just a smidge.

She is never allowed back again, so they say. Ridiculous Irish girl, get your shit together.

That's all I got for now. You can get another post in a few days, I have a more interesting story to tell. I'm just too lazy to do it now.