Conjecture

Out of the mouths of babes

Some of the great things my 13-year-old niece said today.

She said that when she was little she figured that lesbians had to use their nipples for penetration because they didn’t have penises. Who knows, maybe they do.

She talked about a weeness (small penis). That’s why I couldn’t be a lesbian if I had to use my nipples – they’re weeples. Oh wait, that sounds gross!

A vejayjay – c’mon, you can figure that out.

She had a sip of my cognac and said – that has a breath of it’s own.

She said that someone was a cocksucker and I said nice talk. She said you taught me the word. I said don’t tell anyone. She said I’m not good at not telling anyone stuff, I’m radiolauren.

Sunday in Paris

It poured today. Almost all day. It stopped for a few hours late this afternoon and now it’s pouring again.

I forgot to bring any anti-rain clothes so I had to go out in the rain to get an umbrella. Actually two, one for Lauren as well. Too bad I couldn’t find galoshes, my shoes may never recover.

The picture of the day is a Paris version of a Caesar salad. It resembled no Caesar salad I’ve ever had. It had the ubiquitous emmenthal cheese on it and I couldn’t taste any garlic or lemon. A good salad but not a Caesar!!

Paris 2

That was turning into a long post so I figured I’d split it.

Today I walked. Not that far I suppose, really I strolled from the Louvre to the Marais winding through small streets that I didn’t know. Looked in interesting shops, found a terrific pair of rust linen pants, stopped fairly often to sit on a bench somewhere and people watch. Had a nice low-key time.

And realized something. When I lived with someone – two someones but one after the other, I loved to go away by my self. I got to have time to myself and do what I wanted when I wanted. Now that I live alone I’d rather go away with someone. I think. Maybe it’s just that the someone I came to Paris with a month ago – and went to Barcelona with 5 weeks ago – is a good traveling companion. Or maybe we like doing the same things so there was never any issue about what we did when. And when we didn’t want to do something together it was no big deal, we just did whatever.

Today’s highlight, other than finding the linen pants, was getting bird pooped on twice. I don’t know if it was one bird that really didn’t like me or two birds. I don’t think I’ve ever been bird pooped on before.

Yesterday’s was finding this massager. It’s called a butterfly massager because there’s a thing shaped like butterfly wings that you use to attach it to your body. You use a remote control to make it work. I think it would be a great two-person massager. One wears it and the other has the remote. Any takers?

so is this one of the bad boys?

French dogs have such attitude

I love churches

and quirky gardens.  This is a cow and a woman

and I'm a sucker for people in love

and waht would Paris be without the Eiffel tower?

Paris

I’m in Paris to meet my niece, 13, who’s coming to stay with me for a couple of weeks. 13 year olds are no longer considered unaccompanied minors by airlines so in theory she could change planes and fly to Toulouse but that seems a bit much. I figured that if she was flying to Paris and I was coming anyway we might as well spend a few days here. I arrived yesterday and she arrives tomorrow and we leave for Toulouse on Thursday. Tomorrow will be a write-off so the tourist tango starts on Monday. I hope I have the strength!!!

The only two things she said that she absolutely wants to do are go up the Eiffel Tower, and shop. I figure we need to at least go to one museum so my pick is the Quai d’Orsay and I think Montmartre should be on the agenda.  Maybe at night. And the Champs Elysees. Oh, and Notre Dame, maybe Ile de la Cite. Wait, we only have three days!! It’s the shopping that will probably kill me. 

That and the Americans. (My father’s American – I figure I can say at least 50% of whatever I want about them) And to be fair, it isn’t the Americans, it’s the crowds. But most of the crowd seems to be American. You have to get pretty far off the tourist trail to even hear anyone speak French. I guess they’ve forgotten freedom fries and all that no to the war stuff.

I was here a month ago – no I don’t come to Paris all the time, it just worked out that way – and it wasn’t nearly this crowded. Much nicer. Arrival is always stressful. There’s always a metro station without an escalator or with miles of passage way to the connection. Yesterday was worse than usual. The RER train stopped and there was an announcement that suspicious packages had been discovered at Gare du Nord and Chatelet and that we had to wait til they were dealt with. We started again and at the next station there was an announcement that there had been an accident and we had to get off the train and wait for the next one.

The next train was crowed before all the people from my train got on. It was jammed afterwards. And people kept getting on at each stop. I’m not fond of crowds. I’m pretty claustrophobic. It was hell. At Chatelet I started walking to the Metro. It’s about 10 miles away. Just an estimate, it may be further. All the people from my train were apparently walking there too. I finally had to get above ground. Thank god I recognized where I was. Close enough to where I’m staying but too far to walk with luggage. It was worth every penny of the 5.35 euro cab fare.

I unpacked and discovered that I had forgotten my modem. Went out to find somewhere to buy another one and got a wireless card at the same time. Good thing, the computer or the modem isn’t hearing the dial tone so I can’t connect here. And I tried. Everything. Even used my cell phone to call my daughter’s partner in Toronto. They were out so I had to call her cell. Even he couldn’t help me.

Finally in frustration I read the faqs in the manual. The very last one said that if there was no dial tone open the phone jack – the thing on the wall – and reverse the position of the red and green wires. So I opened it with my fake Swiss Army knife, you know the little key ring one with the pen and the light? It’s not bad; I used it to fix the showerhead too.

The red wire wasn’t connected. I think I spent at least an hour trying various wire combinations but no joy.

The upside is that the wireless thing works and I sat in a really nice bar in a really nice hotel last night checking my mail. The downside is that my battery doesn’t seem to last very long so I have to do the business stuff first. Today I found a café that’s open til 2 am every day and it’s a lot cheaper to use the free wifi there.

Bob e-mails Petunia

Look, it's turning into the energizer bunny!

From: Bob Brown (bobbrown@hitmail.com)  Sent: Weds 21/06 22.35
To: Petunia Black
Subject: recent e-mails

Hi Pet

Are you ok? Just, I got a couple of sort of strange letters and I was a bit concerned. You don’t have multiple personality disorder or anything do you?

See you soon.

Big hug,

Bob

From: Petunia Black (petblack@hitmail.com)  Sent: Weds 21/06 23.35
To: Bob Brown
Subject: re: recent e-mails

Multiple personality disorder? Huh?!! What letters? From whom?

Pet
xxoo

From: Bob Brown (bobbrown@hitmail.com)  Sent: Weds 22/06 23.55
To: Petunia Black
Subject: re: re: recent e-mails

One said it was from your brain and one said it was from your intuition.

From: Petunia Black (petblack@hitmail.com)  Sent: Thurs 22/06 00.15
To: Bob Brown
Subject: re: re: re: recent e-mails

Oh shit. I know what’s happening but it’s a long story and it’s late. It’s nothing to be alarmed about. Really. I’m too tired to write about it now and I have appointments all day tomorrow (well today actually). Tomorrow evening I have to get ready to go and I have to leave for the airport at 5 am on Friday. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to explain but it will be within the next few days. 

Soon,

Pet

From Petunia’s intuition (CELL)

(so this appears to have taken on a life of its own and I'm going to run with it and see where it goes.)

Hi Bob;

Can you believe the tight-ass letter the brain sent you? I almost choked when I read it. Sounds like some really old guy in M&A at an incredibly conservative bank wrote it. Brains, ya gotta love ‘em! Wait til you hear from the heart, you’ll cringe, you may vomit!

Just so you know, Cell stands for Cumulative Experiential Life Learning. I mean, hey, that’s what intuition is, right? Gotta say – not in a shy way (we all do song lyrics) – that I’m pretty good at this stuff, gathering and sorting all the experience and lessons and using the results. Silver medallist in the CIG (Canada Intuition Games) 1992. You journalist types like credentials, right? Not that P pays much attention. Big trust issues. It’s beyond me why she’d trust some one like you (no offence, nothing personal) who she doesn’t know that well and not trust me who she’s know all her life.

My guess is that your intuition isn’t real active. Am I right? I’m pretty good at the insight game so if your intuition needs help I’m happy to oblige. Just have him let me know. I figure you have the same trust issues as P, along with the same fear of being hurt. Plus you’ve got that rescuer thing going, taking care of every one, like you’re the ultimate daddy. Keeps you busy. Right?

Brain didn’t tell us she was writing to you, just went ahead and did it. Little power-positioning going on right now – not that you need to be involved in it. Anyway we decided it was only fair to send you all sides of the coin. And we’re trying to work together. Yeah, right.

Here’s my take on the situation. P’s in love with you. We all agree on that. Brain’s frantic, wants answers or wants P out of it. She’s sure that P’s gonna get hurt. Big time. Heart’s busy cutting out lace to glue on love poems, not a lot of help right now. Me, I’m pretty cool with the whole thing. Relax everybody, relax. It’s going to be fine. One way or the other. She’s a strong woman. And smart when brain isn’t in frantic stress mode.

Hope you’re ok with all the correspondence. Brain’s going to write once she’s done with the scissors and glue. Don’t hold your breath! It’s a big pile of lace.

Big hugs,

PI

From Petunia’s brain

This came from a combination of my belief that, in general, women "think" with their brains, their hearts, and their intuition and that, in general, men "think" with their brains, their penises, and their intuition, (which led me to wonder - if a man is impotent does he still think with his penis?) and watching someone I care about a lot fall in love with the same man for the second time in 5 years. 

Dear Sir;

We have met from time to time although you may not remember me. I am Petunia’s brain. Normally I play a leading role in her life. Recently, however, she has been ignoring me and paying strong attention to her heart and intuition – or gut as she sometimes calls it.

We’ve all heard the expression “brain’s up her ass”. I myself would never sink to that level. Apparently her heart and intuition have no such reservations and from my observations appear to be firmly lodged up her derriere at the moment with the result that she has turned into some kind of pollyanna clone, believing that anything is possible if you’re determined. Thus our normally perfect partnership is not working and I find myself at odds with Petunia’s heart and Petunia’s intuition.

Bear with me while I summarize the current situation.

After two years of hell, last October she finally told the insane bastard that he had to get out.  I had been telling her for two years to dump the bum but she was in full pollyanna mode. An aside – I just reread this and feel that this is a bit harsh. She knew that it would never really work, that this would never be the kind of relationship she had hoped for, but through some sense of guilt, and not wanting to fail again, had decided that she would see things through and stay in the relationship. Misguided, yes. The rages and threats finally convinced her that she was in physical danger. Thank goodness!

So the wormturd left and Petunia smiled again and was even heard to laugh once in a while. She worked long days, 14 to 16 hours, 7 days a week. She will not be living under a bridge eating cat food in 10 years. Of course if she doesn’t back off a bit and get a life she may not be around in 10 years but that’s another letter.

I mentioned two years of hell earlier. One of the victims during this period was her writing. She did no personal writing and stopped corresponding with friends, you among them.

Early this year you re-established contact and the correspondence was renewed. This resulted in an invitation for you to visit, which you did. She had some concerns prior to the visit and did tell you about them. One that she – in fact I - didn’t consider was that she would fall in love with you again. I take full responsibility for the oversight and am doing my best to rectify my error but she is ignoring me.

I remind her that this is not a situation in which a responsible, mature, woman should find herself. Never fall in love with a man who hasn’t fallen in love with you first! Don’t you know little fool you never … hmmm, intrusive song lyrics are not a good sign.

Think about last time, I say.

Ah, says her heart, last time was different.

Oh sure, every time’s different.

No, really, it was different. She was in that gooey kind of love, 2gether 4ever in a rose covered cottage kind of love. This time is calmer, surer. She knows what’s possible and what isn’t. She’s different. Really, it’s better.

And maybe it is. BUT, are you different? That’s the important question that her heart and her intuition are not asking. It’s fallen to me to ask it and ancillary questions. Her intuition is convinced that you love her. That may be but it isn’t the issue. Are you any less afraid of being hurt than you were 5 years ago? Any more able to trust? Any more able to reach out? Her intuition believes that these were your issues at the time. I apologize if this wasn’t the case.

Her intuition says that you are but that you need some space right now. I have my own interpretation of the distancing behaviour that you seem to have been exhibiting but am willing to suspend judgment for the moment. No one is listening to me right now anyway. I do take my responsibility seriously. If I’m wrong them I will be the first to admit it, and happily. She is a wonderful woman and deserves to be loved. No one will be more pleased than I if my concerns prove to be misplaced.

You may be feeling that I’m presuming a lot based on our short re-acquaintance but if you are able to reassure me in any way it would be appreciated.

Yours truly,

Petunia’s brain

Rosemary, Thyme and Broom

Today I drove to Molieres, a hameau of 5 houses near Ladern from Domneuve, where I live. Basically I went from one end of the Val de Daigne to the other. It takes about 25 minutes and it subtly beautiful. Some drives around here are in your face beautiful. 

This part of the Val de Daigne is a wide valley so from Servies to Vilar en Val you wind through vines with hills in the near distance on either side of the road. Arquettes is o the hillside on the right and then Villetritouls on the left. There’s a restored mill on the left and then an interesting stone house at the bend on the right.

The valley floor arrows as you approach Vilar. The chateau always looks so inviting. Today there was a flock of sheep on the road, and in the fields on either side, just outside of town. The bergere (shepherd – woman) was sitting on the wall reading. She whistled and the sheep moved off the road. No crook in sight.

From Vilar you start climbing and twisting and turning and for the next 10 km it’s 3^rd gear maximum. Today was hot and sunny and I could hear the cicadas trilling. This is the first day that it’s been hot enough to smell the resinous scent of the wild rosemary in the garrigues. Every now and then it was overlaid with the sweet smell of broom.

The garrigues gives way to a pine forest as the road climbs and then slowly returns after the Col de Taurize, which is at about 450 m. By the time I got to Molieres there was a breeze and I could still smell the broom. The rosemary is too subtle for the breeze.

I love days like this. 

Sax in the night

Last night there was a wedding reception at the winery.  3 or 4 people came by last week to tell me about it and to say that it would be noisy, kind of an apology in advance.  The father of the groom said that they were going to have a DJ and suggested that I should have a party too, my guests could dance to their music. 

Watching people arrive I was struck by the difference in the way that the men and the women were dressed.  All of the women were dressed up, jewellery, make-up, cute shoes, floaty dresses, lace camisoles, satin pants, that kind of dressed up.  About half of the men were dressed up.  The father and uncle of the groom both wore summer suits, I think of them as ice-cream suits.  I assume the father of the bride wore a suit.  A couple of the men wore blazers, a few more wore dress shirts and slacks, some wore short sleeve shirts and slacks, but at least half of the men were wearing shorts and T shirts, or jeans and T shirts. 

Can't you just hear the wives saying "You aren't going to wear that to the wedding?!" and the husbands responding "What's wrong with this?" and the wives just rolling their eyes.  And giving up. Because really, after 40 years together is it likely that he's going to change. 

There were aperitifs and then dinner.  For a while someone was playing a sax.  It was beautiful, kind of late night city saxophone.  It was dusk, the air was still, there was a background murmur of voices, the occasional random dog bark, and over it all, the music.

Restless leg syndrome

Anyone who has shared a bed with me in the past 7 years will find this interesting.  Link: Restless legs syndrome - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.