I was walking along Champs Elysees the other day, thinking about what my girl friends ask me --- whether or not I've met any French guys already ---and the reaction I always have to that question. Everytime I get asked that question, only one thing comes to mind, FEAR. I'm afraid of meeting any French guys at least in the "non-conventional" way (if thats the correct way to put it). The idea of actually "going out" with a French guy I've only just met, even talking to them in a bar somewhere is scary. One, I dont know where they're coming from. Two, I'm not really familiar with the Manila dating scene, what more with the French scene? Three, the guys I see around literally scare me. Even the young ones. Maybe its because of the language barrier which means I dont have a clue what they're saying hence, I dont know what they're thinking.

And what perfect timing, as I was walking away from the Money Changer booth (the reason why I was at Champs), some guy started talking to me. Small talk, really, where you from, why you here, how long you here...etc etc. I could barely understand what he was saying because of his accent (he's from somewhere like Madagascar, or something) and I wasnt really interested since paranoia was making me think that he saw me while I was at the Money Changer, and thus, he could very well be looking for an opportunity to steal something from me.

BUT he did ask for my number. Too bad he wasnt cute. I wonder if I would've given him my number if he were cute.....

Fast becoming my most memorable experiences in Paris are the past two weekends I've spent with my "Partners in Crime" walking around Paris and choosing Metro stops and surrounding areas to explore. I've been to the Pantheon, Luxembourg Gardens, Chateau de Vincennes, 2 other Churches whose names I can't recall as of the moment, Jardin de Acclimatation and of course, the common Paris sights -- the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Sacre Coure, Moulin Rouge, Versailles and even Parc Disneyland.

I now have two weeks left before I head home. Would've been lots of time if it weren't for the fact that I work the rest of the week and I only go out on weekends. This weekend I have to buy those souvenirs I've been wanting to buy. And maybe finally do a little window shopping. I have been doing my best to avoid shopping places since I got here. Primarily because everything here is much too expensive. I got away once, and bought myself a pair of cheap boots. But that was it. No more shopping. Not when there's a crisis at home. Haay. I wish I were rich.

But anyway, more pictures are in my gallery.

Last Sunday was a record-breaking day for me. It marked the longest time I was ever on a bike.
We went to Versailles, the ever famous palace for the French Royalty, its residents include Marie Antoinette. I was expecting the palace to be really grand and unbelievable oozing with grandeur and impracticality. Of course, I wasnt disappointed. What surprised me was the HUGE size of the palace grounds. Entire stretch of Makati could possibly fit within those grounds. And of course, we wouldnt be able to explore the grounds on foot. Well, yes we could but then again, it would've taken the whole day just to walk around. So we rented a bike.

The big question was, "sinong hindi marunong mag bike?" And of course, I didnt reply. After all, I can ride a bike. I never said I was good. I just knew how. But the minute I started moving, it seemed harder than I remembered it to be. A few minutes later I noticed I was moving more to my right no matter what I did. Apparently, the darned thing wasnt aligned! Of course I had to notice it just when I was riding close to a jogger...needless to say I ended up hitting his foot, and I fell. Thank god, they didnt see me. Well okay they did, but they saw me after I fell. Which is good. A salvaged a little bit of my pride.

But the longer I was on the bike, the more comfortable I felt. So maybe I still didnt like having anyone close by while riding, but then, the fact that I was doing okay was good enough for me.

So anyway, later in the afternoon we went inside Versailles. Too bad there were too many visitors at the time, some of the rooms, particularly the antechambers (and the antechamber to the antechamber...), were full of tour groups and their guides speaking in tongues. The Hall of Mirrors was grand, but a little construction on one end of the hall ruined the effect.

I wish I can stay longer so I can come back and savor the place some more. But I guess I'll have to wait for some other time. Maybe next year, or two years from now, or more...

*sigh*

On the happy side of things, we still did get to go to Euro Disney.

Here are some pictures taken by my officemate (he was nice enough to actually allow me to post them in my gallery)

I lost my wallet over the weekend.
Actually, they tell me it was stolen. To be honest, I dont know what happened.
All I know is that it was in my bag, and that I took it out ONCE, put it back in, and never took it out again. If it fell off while I was getting something out of my bag, I dont know, and I dont think so since I was always careful about it. If someone opened my bag and stole my wallet, I dont know either. If that was the case, then he/she/it was VERY very good. I did not notice anything.

Or maybe it happened during the parade. There were soo many people, we were packed in closely together so we could get a good view of Mickey Mouse that I didnt notice.

Sheesh. See Mickey Mouse and other Disney characters if you pay the entrance fee, the train fee and oh yes, if you leave behind your wallet (with over $100 USD worth of money).

*sigh*

This night I heard about what other people think of people like me.
While I don’t agree with them when they say that I’m a real bitch – heartless and completely unmindful of other people’s feelings – I cant deny that I did hurt other people.

But what I would like them to know about me is that I did not and would not do anything purely for the sake of hurting anybody. Its just that some people are more weak on certain things than other people are. Which is why it’s a weakness in the first place.

I will accept and admit that I am selfish, because I was thinking of my happiness and not really of what is best for all concerned.

I will accept and admit that I am weak. I never claimed to be strong.

But I won’t accept that I’m evil. That I don’t do anything good.

Things aren’t always black and white. There are reasons why I do what I do. There’s a reason why I’m in the gray area. They may not be comprehensible to all, but I pray that at the very least, that other people recognize these reasons.

Written 9:31 pm, March 2, 2003, Paris Time
There's a poem in my book that I'm particularly fond of as of the moment. It really doesn't apply to me at all…what applies only is that I AM in Paris with…nobody that counts….but anyway…

In Paris With You

Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've drowned a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.

Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.

Do you mind if we do not go the Louvre,
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysees
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and who
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.

Don't talk to me of love. Lets talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
Theres that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel wall are peeling
And I'm in paris with you.

Don't talk to me of love. Lets talk of Paris.
Im in Paris the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with…all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.


Written by James Fenton

Written 12:47 am, March 2, 2003, Paris time

This afternoon I wandered around the small garden/walkway behind Citadines, the hotel where I'm staying. I noticed the trees were starting to actually have green leaves and buds that I suppose would eventually bloom into flowers. And then I realized, the rains in the past few days are supposed to usher in spring…..and I don't have enough winter pictures!!!!

Written 1:24 am, March 1, 2003, Paris time

I was trying to find the right poem that would aptly describe what I'm feeling and what I'm thinking. In the end I decided to close my poetry book.
There just wasn't anything there.

I realized all of a sudden that the longer I become immersed in reading poetry, the harder it is to find that one poem that I can read over and over again
and say, yes, this is where I am and what I'm feeling right now.

Maybe I'm becoming more and more picky and hard to please? Or maybe I'm beginning to realize that, as with other things in life,
I look for the answers elsewhere. That what I really need are not the words of other people, not the emotions of beings.
I cannot turn to them and ask them to say what I want to say, and feel what I am feeling. I have to find my words and give voice to them.

Maybe I'm done escaping, and its time to face reality? I have to go back to who and what I was before. I have to find the courage I had and
re-learn how to say what I want to say and feel what I want to feel without shame nor guilt.