Even though it's Wednesday, I'll tell you about Sunday when I had the house to myself!!! It was fantastic. I put on body lotion and drank tea in my room. You see with a glass door you can't really stand naked with one leg on the bed as you slather Cocoa Butter onto your thighs. Not unless you are a Thrill Seeker and although I do like a thrill, I never seek them out. As for the tea, I'm not allowed to drink it my room which is a bit devastating as I like to drink tea in bed whilst I look at nose job before and after shots on Google. That's why Sunday was so enjoyable; I think it makes life nicer when you can't do everything you want to do because then even the simplest things become a joy, simple pleasures like tea drinking and moisturising.
The French family were off to the Louvre and as they went they gave me leaflets about a photography exhibition that they thought I might be interested in... It seems like Sunday is Paris's National Culture Day as all the museums are free, so I would have felt like a fool had I not gone off to this exhibition. I was very proud of myself, I had to get two metros to the museum and I managed it all by myself! Once I got off the metro at Monceau however, I followed signs for the musuem but they only led back to each other. I am discovering that the signs and metros in France like to ensnare people for eternity, just for a Laugh and a Jolly.
In the end, I found an interesting park and went in there instead. It had all pillars and archaeological-style things in there. And then after about ten minutes of dawdling through the park wishing I had an ice cream, I looked up and the musuem was just there!
Honestly, whenever you Accept Things and Let Go, karma turns round and hands you what you want on a plate. In this case, what I wanted happened to be a very long maze of black and white photographs of Angkhor Wat in Cambodia. Next to each photo was a detailed description and then every so often there would be a big board with information on. It was all French but I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't French so I stood and read every single word of the whole exhibition. At one point I got the giggles imagining if someobody asked me something about the text and I said 'I don't know, I don't speak French.' And then they'd say (in English for some reason, but that's the way the imagination works) 'How come you are reading it then?' and then I'd say 'I'm just pretending' and then I'd walk off.
And then I imagined writing that thought down in a blog like I just did. And then I imagined writing down what I just wrote. And that. And that. I can't believe I'm actually writing it now. I write things out in my head so often that I think it's the reason I never actually write anything, because by the time I've re-thought it and edited it in my head I can't be bothered to actually write it down. As far as you know, I could have written Booker Prize Novel in my head but I just don't have the energy to type it up. (I haven't, but maybe I have and I forgot!)
Anyhoo... the exhibition was good, I bought myself a postcard to prove to myself that sometimes I'm not an idiot and I can do Cultural Stuff and then I took a photo of it to put on here. Et voila:
Sunday got even more cultural because then I went to see a play reading at Shakespeare and Company, which is a famous English bookshop that has over the years provided free accomodation and such for famous writers and poets. They do writers' workshops and stuff too that I'd really like to go but I think that may be something for After Christmas. I will definately be spending more time there though, they do performance poetry nights there and other intellectual arty things and even though I am not an Intellectual or Arty Person I like to pretend to be much in the same way I enjoy pretending to be French in musuems and on park benches.
The play, Eva the Chaste by Barbara Hammond, was a monologue about an Irish woman who has lived in Paris for twenty years and has to return home to look after her sick mother. The actress managed to hold the audience, made up of au pairs, literary folk, tourists and drunk passers by, for seventy five minutes which I think is pretty amazing. Everyone was gazing up at her like it was storytime at nursery. My favourite part was when the sirens of a passing fire engine seemed to go on forever and were in danger of spoiling the moment. She said the line 'That's not her now is it?' and gazed into the middle distance. Then a moment later, as the sirens continued to disrupt the atmosphere, she said 'No, it's just the fire brigade.'
It was very, very good and I felt very, very Cultured sat on the pavement in the Latin Quarter of Paris , listening to somebody else's memories as the sun went down...
In other news, tonight we had grated carrot again for dinner. When asked if I wanted more, I took no chances and filled my boots, only to be then presented with a bowl of cous cous. Oh and for lunch we had polenta. If you're not familiar with polenta, it's what happens when cous cous and jelly fall in love. Meal times, I see, will always be Full of Surprises.