enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary
"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh
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Oh my goodness it is late and I should jump into bed...
No time to post pictures, unfortunately. Or at least to prepare them and post them. I'll post tomorrow.
I had a lovely day though. It was a bit weird - the weather was grey and gloomy, I woke up late (of course!!!), I didn't go out until afternoon.
When I did go out I went to the fairtrade coffee house at the end of the street, but only after traveling a circuitous route through my neighbourhood. I really should go out and enjoy my neighbourhood more often. I would never be able to afford a house here (the quartier doesn't have "golden" in its name for no reason), but renting here is a good deal I feel for the amenities that I have here.
And it was a lovely fall day, although moreso than it seems to be in
At the coffee shop I broke my new rule about being open and friendly and inviting people to talk to me, by sitting with my back to most of the people. I don't usually do that. But I had a comfortable seat and I was lost in thought and wanted to read my book.
And then I hit the most hysterical bit in my book. Here's a bit of it:
The lesser followers of Bernard Shaw have only copied his defects. Shaw has succeeded on the stage not because he is a dramatist of ideas, but because he is a dramatist. But he is inimitable. He owes his originality to an idiosyncrasy, not of course peculiar to himself, that had never before found expression on the stage. The English, whatever they were in the Elizabethan era, are not an amorous race. Love with them is more sentimental than passionate. They are of course sufficiently sexual for the purpose of reproducing their species, but they cannot control the instinctive feeling that the sexual act is disgusting. They are more inclined to look upon love as affection or benevolence than as passion. They regard with approval its sublimations which dons describe in scholarly books, and with repulsion or wiht ridicule in its frank expression. English is the only modern language in which it has been found necessary to borrow from the Latin a word with a depreciatory meaning, the word uxorious, for a man's devoted love for his wife. That love should absorb a man has seemed to them unworthy. In France a man who has ruined himself for women is generally regarded with sympathy and admiration; there is a feeling that it was worth while, and the man who has done it feels even a certain pride in the fact; in England he will be thought and will think himself a damned fool. That is why Antony and Cl3opatra has always been teh least popular of Shak3speare's greater plays. Audiences have felt that it was contemptible to throw away an empire for a woman's sake. Indeed i it were not founded on an accepted legend they would be unanimous in asserting that such a thing was incredible.
Oh SOMERS3T!!!!
I could go on, but need I?? :)
So I was reading this and smirking and these two cops were standing outside and they came in through the back door and one of them smiled at me. They were especially hottttt. But can we see me with a police officer. Unlikely. Too young, anyhow.
Besides, I have bad memories of bicycle bell tickets. Indeed!
Hmm.. So what else? Well a little bit later the table next to me freed up and a poor troubled woman sat down at it. I knew that something was up when she sat down as I could tell that she was looking carefully at me before she sat down, as if to gauge my reaction.
I suspect that she was a junkie. She looked native. She looked tired. She was dressed not badly but she had the look of a street person about her. And she looked so tired. She sat still, her head drooping to her chest. She looked wearier than I have ever been in my life, and so so so defeated. It made me so sad.
I sat for a long while wondering if I should offer her some money or offer to buy her a hot drink or something, but in the end she made no eye contact and seemed to want to be left alone and so I didn't say anything. I'm not sure if that was the right thing to do. My big thing with street people is that I want to show them that I respect their dignity as human beings. But I just never know exactly what that means. Does that mean that I give them money or smile? Does that mean that I leave them in peace to get a few minutes of warmth and quiet away from the threats of the street?
I found myself turning my body towards her, trying to protect her a little bit from sight, as I was afraid that they would try to kick her out.
They really need more seating at that coffee shop, anyhow, or to kick out some of the students who come there and spend 18 hours sitting there with their laptops and on their cell phones. But then I do dislike time limits on coffee consumption, writing, reading, and dialogue! :)
SO after that I went out and although it was unfortunately dusk I started to take some pictures about town. I have a few slightly interesting ones.
And then I went to the mall. I loathe going to the mall! I loathe spending the money of which I have so little at the moment.
The problem is that I was in school so long before this year that I simply have to face the fact that I do not have all of the clothing appropriate to my job. At my current workplace I can get away with my limited wardrobe. At Line Dance things are more formal. And of course I am not stupid enough to not realize that my image is an important part of why I will get promoted.
WIthout the substance of course the image is irrelevant. But with the substance looking the part is the next step to being heard and noticed.
It's pretty simple.
So I bought a really pretty merino wool v-neck sweater in an argyle pattern with a black bacground and raspberry and I believe grey diamonds. Very pretty. And I bought a new pair of black pumps.
(I'm ashamed to admit this but the only pair of black pumps for winter that I had previous to this were cheap and uncomfortable.)
The pumps weren't expensive. But they are pretty, fortunately.
So I got home and I tried on the pumps with some nice tights...and I pulled out a black pencil skirt shorter than I usually wear to work. It falls just above the knees. (I always wear skirts to or below the knees to work, believe it or not.)
Anyhow. So with my new pumps and black tights and this black pencil skirt with its pretty kick pleats in back, and with the fitted argyle sweater...I look fantastic. Seriously, a long, lean drink of water. I felt cute! So I think I'm going to wear this outfit tomorrow and go on mission MR. B.
I will find out at least if he is married and so whether to forget all about him. And if at all possible if not I will find an opportunity to say hi. What do I have to lose?
Four days and counting! ;)
I'm joking, really. But my new motto is DO. I know - N!ke got it first.
But it's perfect. It really is.
I'm ready to go. The thinking and hibernating has been done; the adventures begin.
Bonne soiree!
|11:51 p.m. - 2007-11-12
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Come al solito - 2011-04-16 unfettered spending - 2011-04-15 How does it go? - 2011-04-14 Whirlwind. - 2011-04-13 bleak that flips over to daffodil - 2011-04-08 |