Shorts

started 1/12/08

I found out that a 2nd year student did a similar paper on prostitution last year, comparing policies in France and Netherlands using the framework of the actors involved, mainly feminists. My ego was deflated to know this. I won't read her paper very closely until I'm done with mine. Too much pressure.

Speaking of, I heard from 2 different 2nd year students that I seem too stressed out. They tell me to focus on my introduction and conclusion and kind of support it in the main body. They act as if paper writing is second-nature when I haven't written anything formal in about 12 years. At the time they said this my eyes started to slightly well with tears (chalked up to PMS and conviction), and I defended the idea of writing a paper for the sake of making a difference instead of getting a decent grade or getting something out of the way. Regardless, I want to take their noticing my stress as a lesson. I should relax a bit my Scandinavian worth ethic. Life will go on and I won't actually be able to write some brilliant Einstein paper introducing a terribly new idea. At least not in the first four months of school.

The 2nd year student who wrote on prostitution described it well - it's a seductive theme. I have started to eat and breathe the concept. What is right, what is wrong, what works, what doesn't. In Madrid, Rod and I were walking up a street near Metro Sol, the street known for sex workers. It was our second or third time walking up this street because it's a thoroughfare. A man started to yell at a woman in a doorway (she was clearly a sex worker). His language was mixed Spanish and another. This is not representative of the industry, mind you. I stopped in my tracks and turned to stare at him. If he would become physically abusive I would not stand for it. Only, I should have done more. I should have challenged his verbal abuse. I speak almost perfect Spanish. I should have called him on it. As we all do in hindsight, I should have pulled the ultimate card out, "What?! Your mother taught you to treat ladies this way??!" Instead. He stopped yelling and walked away. So did we.

Back in Paris: I came out of the Chinese restaurant with my take-out. The same panhandler was there that I'd encountered before. Last time, when he stuck his hand out - the first time I've seen this guy/kid - he asked, mumbling in French, for money for food. I shook my head and kind of said 'désolé' sorry. Under his breath, as I walked on, he called me a "fucking bitch." I was shocked. In English he said this. I didn't know what to do so I walked on. This time, coming out of the restaurant, he was there, mumbling something about money for food and I shook my head and split second realized it was him and hollared back over my shoulder, "And don't call me a fucking bitch!" He mumbled back after me, "Ok, sorry."

I wore girl shoes to school today. I really don't like girly things like make-up (too much time in the morning for it when I could be sleeping), high heels (my high arches ache), etc. But I had a presentation and wanted to add a bit of professional flair which for men includes shaving and a nice shirt and tie. For women it's (shaving) a nice shirt and heels - either kitten or high. Every girl shoe I've ever worn has caused me blisters and pain. My Converse never have. My gym shoes never have. My Steve Madden boots haven't. So I wore girl shoes from 9am-midnight. They drain you if they hurt. They make every step feel sharp and slow you down from striding across the street. They made me come up from the metro, after 2 lines and a lot of standing and getting distractedly lost on the way, and upon seeing the hookers standing on the stairs at the top, I sighed, "Home. Finally." This is the first time I recognized my metro and my neighborhood as home. It felt good to see their un-stockinged legs and see the neon of Monoprix. I even, slowly tip-toeing almost down the street, nodded to the 'arabe' grocer. I guess I'm settling in here.

I made a HUGE bowl of pasta shells mixed with tuna, peas, mascarpone, eggs, celery, and spices. It was inspired by a meal I had at Rod's on Christmas Eve. I think I cooked for a good 1-1/2 hours. It was a good break and now I have like a week of food. Now, I have to think of creative ways to eat it. Sandwiches. I wonder what it'd be like warm. I haven't eaten so many eggs-by-themselves in years, but the French make only a handful of sandwiches in their boulangeries: meat and crudité (which means raw vegetable to mean lettuce, tomato), crudité and cheese (Camembert or Gruyère), or crudité with egg and thon (tuna). Not that I miss hot dogs or hamburgers (heh, says the vegetarian). I am definitely getting my vitamins and minerals. Also, hence, why I've been making PB&Js on lovely French bread to take to school - mix it up a bit (lovely jam here, too - recently had some rhubarb yummy chunks of fruit in there!).

Both the stats paper and state restructuring papers are due tomorrow. Stats so far is a 7-page regression analysis on how education, feelings about the status of a home country's economy, and your partner's education influence your feelings about immigration. It sounds sexy. It's not. A bunch of writing words about numbers. I've got about 35% left on the paper on prostitution policy. (Well, that percentage has dropped over the past 14 hours despite the fact that I haven't done much on it.) With all the words in the paper - some will be chopped for sure in the editing process - I've got almost twice the recommended amount. Whew. Plenty to say. Good. Now, let's make it worthy of being said!

I think it's sad that our extended family is dividing up my grandmother's art work. Sure, on the one hand it's really wonderful that we're able to do this and that my aunts and uncle and dad are helping the process and that my grandma is facilitating (or so I imagine, with no basis for that). It's still sad, and too bad that the farm house can't just be converted into a really cool museum that will always smell special like warm Norwegian wood and Welsh air. I can see that house from entry way to basement nook, from measuring our giggling cousins up against the bathroom door to seeing knee-high while scooting around on a wooden toy tractor. I wonder how it looks now, covered in layers of snow and small lights glowing from its windows. I wonder how we'll all keep the tradition of seeing our faces change.

Between Merry and Happy

I didn't really see what the big deal was or why people would think it'd do me good, but when I got to Madrid I could tell. I did need to get out of Paris for a bit. I'm loving Paris on a certain level, but Madrid has giddiness and open arms. Even as I waited in line at Vueling, the cute Spanish couple in front of me played and joked and smiled and giggled. An entirely different feel than Paris already.

My brain started thinking in Spanish and my body started to shed the tight enclosing.

Charles de Gaule airport looks like communist dark bread compared to Barajas' colorful breath of life beach feeling.

I had a really good time in Madrid with Rod from Scotland, Sarah from San Francisco, and Benedicte from Normandy. It certainly wasn't an average Christmas in any way. I've started uploading the photos on flickr so please go check them out. Featuring:

belly dancing at Habibi












weird collections at rastro











walking by the palace in the gardens












interesting holiday traditions











caipirinhas












Christmas in crowns!










and much much more!! Please check it out at flickr.com/photos/lr/sets


I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I was lucky to be able to celebrate with some great friends, and I also got to Skype with my parents and sister. They, of course, were in pijamas and I had already toasted with champagne. It was great to see their faces and hear their voices. I even got to see some of the crazy snow piled high in Minneapolis. Then, I checked my email and saw a lovely note from one of my aunts with an update on who's who at the farm and what the new news was. At about midnight on Christmas I got a fabulous surprise phone call from all my relatives gathered around the speakerphone at the farm. It was such a surprise and I was so thrilled to hear their voices. It is the little things that count and it really made me feel like I was a bit home with them all. Nothing felt that far away, and love was wrapped around me.

Got back into town on the 26th with a crazy fever and cough and stayed in bed for two days. Before I left Madrid I was able to grab something called Frenadol which seemed to really bring the fever to a halt and calm the dry cough that was tearing through me. When I could finally leave the apartment on Friday I went over to Darty at M: Anvers to pick up a humidifier. The shortness of breath caused me to shuffle along like an old lady - or a French person. I walk too fast generally and it's good to be forced to slow down and look at things, take them in. I'm still adjusting to Paris. I'm still adjusting to school. Sigh. Who knew I'd still have growing pains long after puberty?

I guess if I were to make a list of things wished for or resolutions for 2008, they'd be this:

- I am going to stop worrying about the money.
- I am going to spend the money for a year's membership to the gym because it's the only way I'm going to feel better about myself mentally and physically.
- I am going to open myself up to learning
- I am going to believe in myself
- I am ridding myself of fear
- I will believe I can do it
- I will ride a Velib
- I am (only) going to give loose change to someone on the street once a month
- I am going to rejoice for the smoking ban but not rub it in too hard
- I will make time for museums on the weekends
- I think I can I think I can
- I will only be confined by what I can dream for myself
- I will write more postcards
- I will try recipes for cooking
- I will create my own sunshine in these overcast days (even if it's via vitamin D)
- I will call my grandma more
- I will be more patient in waiting for some things
- I will be more available for you
- I will be more on time to class (especially French)
- I will give and offer
- I'll stop taking photos of every darn thing and try to focus more
- I will love and forgive and stop judging and gossiping
- I will thank more people more often
- I will laugh more on the metro, and louder, but not in that obnoxious USA way

Ha. Now let's see how much actually happens in 2008!

Regardless, it's going to be a new year and new 365 days with which we can do anything we choose. It's how we make it, right? And life is short so why waste time?

Thanks to you and a very Happy New Year!

Bonne et heureuse année 2008 !

The season

Well, Sarkozy is off kissing the Pope's hand. I didn't think twice-divorced people could do that. I guess even the Pope can be flexible.

Bush is denying denying denying.

The Middle East is exploding.

Former Guantanamo 'prisoners' are freed after 4 years (oh, the stories they'll tell to the world, I hope I hope I hope).

Elizabeth II outlasts the other ones and Victoria. (Cheers to health care!)

New Orleans is coming down, but not without protest.

Candidates are jabbing and smearing.


.....

I hope to pull some time tonight to post a bunch of photos I've taken over the past month. You'll be able to see Paris - the real city of lights - at the holiday season. While some neighbors have coma-inducing lights blinking up and down the street and major shopping thoroughfares have tightropes of Santa faces or miniature trees, there's no snow to make me really think it's winter or Christmas. I am not complaining - PERIOD. But I don't feel any nostalgia or wistfulness or emptiness like I would have thought. Christmas is such a family-focused holiday for me. Snow rolls in around late Oct / early Nov, the temperature drops, the TV turns up its bombardment of commercialism, lights lights up everywhere, the capitol showcases the tallest tree in the world, I feel the pressure of time to come up with the most perfect gift for friends and family and Secret Non-Secular Santa at the office, mom sends a chocolate advent calendar, I pick my days off from work, I rent the car, I agonize about the drive up to the parents because I know blizzards and ice, I drive white-knuckled up the highway with all the distracted laissez-faire drivers, mom jokes about dragging the Christmas tree out (but I know she secretly likes challenging her Martha Stewart sensibilities), dad tells us the schedule for visiting grandma and the other relatives out at the farm, my sister and I have wine and tell stories about our lives lately to catch everyone up, we still get 1 present on Christmas Eve, mom still pretends Santa drops off our stocking gifts on our section of the couches, she also still pretends we can't see them for the bed sheets she lays over them (surprise is key!), someone wakes me up in the morning because I'm lazy now, they make fun of me being grumpy before my coffee, they make me crawl to the tree and hand out the first round of gifts because I'm still the youngest, we each take turns opening and "ooooh" and "aaaah"ing over things we had on our list, we use dad's Swiss Army knife for opening the tightly taped, we toss the gift wrap into recycling, dad asks if we'd like another cup of coffee, mom asks if we want some kind of toasted fruit bread with jam, we finally finish the glutonous high of indulgence, take naps or play with our new toys, dress, head out to the farm, hugs and kisses for all the family there, wistful thoughts for those who couldn't make it, grandma gets smaller and more frail every year and her hugs are tiny and bony but man is she still alive and twinkling, we mingle in the various rooms with the various extended family, the ladies keep the food cooking (it's a matriarchy, trust me), we serve ourselves, we sit at our randomly assigned seats at the long family table (although secretly this is planned out very well by one of the younger cousins in accordance with who they want sitting next to them and then down the line), we give the Norweigen blessing, we toast with the German white wine my dad brings or someone else's wine, we eat and laugh and laugh and debate and discuss and get seconds and hug and feel full in our bellies and full in our hearts and stronger in our minds, and then we dissapate slowly with some going home or some staying (or some cousins bucking all trends and finding a downtown bar to have coctails - or maybe that's Xmas Eve only), hugs and kisses and remembering schedules as to when we'll come back out to the farm for lunch or sledding down the hill or board games or future rendezvous in other cities for those who have to leave right away.

It's sunny outside my apartment. Sunny and 39F. Not a trace of snow to inspire me to feel seasonal, although I do - now - feel a bit wistful.

Well. I've got a paper to send off to the professor today. Once we've turned it in, I'll send out the link to it on google docs. It's a group project for our Managing Innovation in the Globalising Learning Economy: "Investment in Social Capital and Cultural Industry - An Argument for Advancing Policy to Enhance Economies of Metropoles." Sounds big, feels big, but really is just a 3-part paper to look at how better petri dishes attract better bacteria to make better colonies. IE, better cities -> creative people -> stronger economy. I'm in charge of theory - UGH! - the two boys did case studies on their respective cities (Berlin, Seoul) and we 3 sent out a survey to MPA students (and you all, thank you, although you won't be taken into consideration until next semester - we're continuing with the project beyond the class even!). We were hoping to run a regression on the data we had from the survey but frankly we're just not advanced in stats enough yet to be able to set up our own data set to run it. Maybe next semester. Yeah, so I have to finish my section and do the editing on the whole thing. Hm, English as a First Language = disadvantage here.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Madrid through the 26th to hang out with a friend there. I haven't been in 10 years so I'm psyched to see how the city has changed. I don't think there will be time to sneak down to Toledo (where I studied in undergraduate) but that's okay for now. I have no idea what to expect with this trip or this holiday. It's an adventure. Fun! Of course this means I will be nose to the grind when I get back - and NOW.

So, off I go.

A very happy merry few days to you and yours. I love my friends and family. I hope you all got your gifts - my small contribution to capitalism and my very small token to show you how much you are loved and thought about abroad. To new friends, cheers and fond thoughts in your direction!

See you when I get back - before the New Year no doubt.