upstairs

(having woken up neither alone nor in my own) bed, 15h50

28 March 2010

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. . . . . . . I've recently found I have a penchant for list-making. I came up with one last Tuesday with the intention of stablizing my budget/work ethic/mental health for the rest of my stay.

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J'atteste que, d'ici, je ferai mon mieux de :

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- stop smoking

- not go out more than 3 times a week (hanging out at friends houses not included)

- not wake up with a hangover more than 5 times a week (one day sans alcool prefered)

- only have 1 night of dating/sex/excess flirting (dancing) per week

- speak French more often

- budget

- not beat myself up when I fuck up any of the aforementioned goals

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A week later and I have not adhered to a single one of these points. Though I am giving the final one a worthwhile shot.

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Saturday night we were at a party together and I went home with him. I cornered him in a window where we were smoking and suggested we makeout. Just a little. Because I was drunk and probably wouldn't remember it. I was wearing a scarf for a shirt (don't -- I know ...). I had taken a nice guy from Miami home from a bar the night before (when it rains, it pours) and was feeling confident and sexy and more than slightly careless. But even from the first kiss, the whole thing felt like saying good-bye.

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It's funny, since I got here I've never done so much nothing. But not nothing like watching tv or youtube or facebooking (yikes) but frequently, with friends and sometimes alone, we just sit and let time pass without overthinking it. Not everyday but a couple hours a week at least. I think I'm in a rare place in my life where I can do this -- where I can allow time to be filled with simply being and not trying to occupy it with the pressure to work or chat or move or think. And there's still a buzz of anxiety and guilt that surrounds these moments but practice has been helping my parlor-room meditations (or so I have decided to call them) and the company of friends keeps me present so I that I don't get lost in thought (for the most part) and am able to let things kind of just be what they are for a while (as in, not good or bad or exciting or boring, but just as they are in that moment).

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I had one of these times yesterday. For hours. Until 5 o'clock in the afternoon we laid in bed and did nothing. And I found myself at one point consumed with anxiety over not wanting to leave where I was and then paradoxically needing to leave because I was so overwhelmed with the idea of that space in time ending. And then I realized how hard I was still working to control my experience rather than just letting it go and exist and end when it had to. And I recognized the fact that I was happy in that moment, and that I knew (most certainly) that I would not be for the time that followed and (most importantly) that that negative experience will only serve to lead me back to another moment of happiness, even more fulfilled by a greater sense of experience and enlightenment. And while it was a hard place to maintain for just a couple hours yesterday (and even harder today), it was quite blissful letting go of all control because I felt somewhat comfortable with the present and the (presumably more sucky) future (leading to a fuller experience of another moment of happiness, and so forth and so on, ad fin.).

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Was it a good idea, then ? Well, no, for obivious reasons. (Maritza very lovingly told me I was dumb when I came home on Sunday*) But, maybe for other reasons ...

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I realized after I had my big melt down two weeks ago that part of my problem was that I had let this idea of "myself" become too big to support. "I" had to know what "I" was doing and where "I" was going and what that meant to "me". After a great deal of reflection (and feeling like shit) I remembered that it doesn't matter -- it doesn't matter whether or not I know what I'm doing as long as I can sense that I'm not in it alone (even if I can't always pin-point who's there with me) and that I am still working toward something (even if I still don't know what that something is ...).

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So that feeling of "good-bye" ? Well, I imagine it's not the last time I'm going to see him (though, I'm almost hoping at this point it'll be the last time we sleep together), so maybe it was letting go of some dependency on controling this idea of "me" and who "I" can see and what "I" should do and what "I" have to have happen and needing someone to be responsible when it does all go to shit -- because since January there hasn't been a single thing which has worked out the way that "I" expected it to.

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And to this point, I couldn't have been luckier.

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* Which was totally justified. x

front door

(having woken up alone) my own bed, 10h20

17 March 2010

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. . . . . . . The doorbell rang around 9:00 this morning. I had been writing in the kitchen since 8:00. When I opened the door a woman with a large envelope in here hand looked at me with apprehension and asked if Lara Peligino lived here. I let a blank expression ride my face for a prolonged moment.

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"Who ?"

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She stuttered as she repeated the name and timidly held out the envelope for me to read it. I informed her that it was the apartment to the right that she was looking for and forced a polite smile as she thanked me and backed away slowly.

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Coming back through the hallway I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Small, red eyes cushioned by large dark pillows of skin and framed by an unbalanced mess of greesy locks looked back at me. (Ample consideration should be given to how unfortunate this state is for onlookers the morning after crying yourself to sleep, preferably before opening the door to strangers.)

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Maritza came into the kitchen a little while later and after a moment let out a hesitant "Ça va, Sam ?"

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"No. But it's going to."

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After a little bit of work she finally got the story out of me. Not the whole story, just the important bits, like how I realized that most of the shit I was feeling wasn't even about him anymore. How there was just something he said that triggered this avalanche of insecurity and not being okay. How frustrated I am realizing that what has me feeling like this can't be blamed on anyone or thing but exists just a "heartache with no face to put on it,"* and that I just have to wait it out.

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Then she hugged me. And she said, "Please don't be sad." And then she hugged me tighter. And I said, "thank you, my friend. I can't tell you how lucky I am to have met you." And then a minute or two later I was finally like, "So you're really not going to let go until I am happy again ?"

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It's all for the best. Or it's going to be. I don't really believe this but I'm hoping that if I say it often enough I might start to.

*another one of my very clever friends talked about this. xx

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"Until Ya Get Over It" Handmade Chocolate Guiness Ice Cream

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Adapted from Heidi Swanson's Peppermint Semifreddo.

While you can totally swap out some of the manual labor for a Kitchen Aide or electric handmixer, I love the idea of using the process of making the dessert to burn (most of) the calories you'll be consuming in the final product.

1 1/2 cups (40 cl) heavy whipping cream, chilled

1/2 cup evaporated cane sugar, divided

3 large organic eggs, separated

1/2 Guiness

3.5 oz (1 bar) dark chocolate (70% or more)

1/3 cup chopped walnuts, optional

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Start by melting the chocolate either in a double broiler or the microwave. Set aside.

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Whip the heavy cream in a medium sized bowl until you can form soft, floppy peaks of chantilly. (If you're getting stiff peaks you've over done it.) Leave it in the fridge until you need it again.

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Because this dessert has eggs at the base, you're going to need to set everything up before starting to make sure it's all on hand (i.e. this is when you do your measuring). Make an ice bath in a large bowl (I actually like to use a deep skillet for this) and set it to the side. "Set a large heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water. You need to move quickly here, so have everything right on hand. Add the egg yolks and 1/4 cup of the sugar, and quickly start whisking - whisk until the mixture starts to pale, 30 seconds or so. Add the [Guiness] and whisk like you've never whisked before until the mixture starts to thicken (somewhere between [2 and 5] minutes depending on the heat)." The Guiness makes this part hard to judge, but in spite of the foam you'll still be able to see when it starts to thicken up a bit. Remove the bowl from heat but leave the water simmering.

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Place the bowl in the ice bath and add your (room temp but still liquid) chocolate and continue whisking like hell until the mixture is cool to the touch. Remove from the ice bath and set aside.

"Take another heatproof bowl (you can use the one from your electric mixer if you've got one) and set it over the simmering water, whisk the egg whites and the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar. Start whisking, you want the sugar to dissolve and the egg whites to warm up a touch - the heat makes it easier to whip them. After a minute or so remove them from the heat and whisk the whites until they have glossy peaks - four or five minutes. They should be structured and stiff."

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Now you get to put all that shit together. Fold a small amount of egg whites into the egg/choco/Guiness mixture until it's entirely blended (this helps to lighten up the mixture and makes the rest of the folding easier). Now fold in the rest of the egg whites until it's just blended (if there's little pockets of white it's not a big deal -- better than if you deflate the whole thing). Then fold in the cream (I usually do this in two or three parts) and, finally, the walnuts.

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Spoon into either a large Tupperware container or several small, fancy, freezable dessert glasses. The ice cream takes about four hours in a large tupperware to set and 6-7 to freeze all the way through. The cool thing about individual glasses (or containers) is that after an hour or two you can serve them 1/2 frozen (semifreddo, as the lady says) which is quite delish.

courtyard across from the parc

sitting on a small stone wall covered in ivy, 1h30
17 March 2010
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. . . . . " He sent me an email finally last night when my friends were over. We talked a bit later. It's a long story but in the end poor buddy had to bear a lot of the quiet crazy that came out of me. And I was left wanting so badly to be able to know what it's like to wake up next to someone you love. And I felt so reduced and empty and sure that I'm never going to.

I've been thinking a lot about giving up these days. Not just on Paris; everything. I just don't know what I'm expecting to find anymore. I feel like I've walked away from everyone I've ever meant anything to in search of something that I'm more and more sure I'll never find. "

He liked the CD, though. The imperceptible shine of a vaguely silver lining.

la cuisine

à côté du chauffage (encore une fois), 1h11
16 March 2010

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I've decided I've missed too much of my story to go back and recount it now. It's probably part of the reason I've put off writing for so long.

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. . . . . . . . . I made him a mixed CD yesterday. This, instead of doing one of the million and one things I should have been taking care of in order to put my steady shaking apart Parisian life back together. I spent hours on that shit. I left it by his door wrapped in a piece of sketch book paper with "écoute-moi" written in small handwriting on the front and with a note on the inside that said "ça va, la grève ? say one more time that you're not looking for a relationship or at least not one with me and I promise I'll let it drop," and on the other side "en tous cas, happy listening. -s "

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That was this afternoon. Still no word.

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This is my final attempt at regaining some level of sanity. It's been hard to maintain my distance lately, despite some half-hearted efforts. So now instead of loosing what feels like hours of the day walking around trying to figure out what's going on his head after every encounter, I'll know if there's actually something there worth hanging on for or if I should stop wasting time waiting around for nothing.

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Two weeks ago Maritza and I finally called a plumber at 22h30 at night to come and fix the shower which had given up on mainting any level of water pressure about a month before. The landlady didn't care. Or she did but cared more about her pretty golden duck head than our hygiene. The plumber came and took the old faucet and left us with a 700€ bill for a new one, plus the 160€ he charged for the service. He was in the apartment for less than an hour.

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The only reason we took it was because he said he was going to leave us a bill of about 200€ just for having to come to the apartment at 11 o'clock at night and as shit as it is to get your landlady to reimburse you for the 820€ you were overcharged for a useless shower it's even more shit to get her to cover the 200€ you just threw in the (only marginally more functional) toilet. It's been complicated trying to go about getting our money back because of letters and documents and tracking down the (putain connard) plumber so Maritza's friend has been helping us out a lot. Which doesn't give us as much space as we need. Well, as I need, anyway.

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I know I'm not the only one. I'm lost in a sea of other girls waiting to get into his shorts and a slightly larger group of other girls waiting to get back into his shorts and as much as he must know at this point, know because I've told him, how much he makes me feel like just another easy lay, he still doesn't think before he does something to crush me just a little bit more. And I spend so much time hating him for it and trying to figure out all the reasons why he's just not worth it and how he's just another guy that doesn't know what he wants. And then after I've spent even five minutes with him I'm suddenly over it. And all that's left is those warm hazel eyes looking down on me and a painful realization that the negativity was a waste of energy because he's already been forgiven. Because I can't not forgive him. Can't not understand.

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The bastard ...

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I hope he says not that it's bad timing but that he's not interested in me. Then I can really let it go for good. But I think he likes me too much to let me stop liking him infinitely more and his compliments and his thoughtfulness and his way of lingering when we spend time together, it's like dysfunctional relationship Miracle grow. And I eat it up with a fucking spoon.

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Blue Corn Pancakes and Maple Syrup

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This recipe yields neither of these as a final product.

Adzuki beans and whole grain brown rice are like a match made in high nutritional value heaven. I topped my dish with a poached egg for extra protein (and because I like eggs). The cheese mentioned in the recipe is speculative (and, likewise, optional) but I'm rather excited about trying the combo out. This lunch was enjoyed with some hot, tasty (and rather stunning) hibiscus tea à la Lala.

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2 cups cooked adzuki beans (homemade is better but I won't judge you for using canned)

2 1/2 cups cooked (though al dente) short grain brown rice

1/2 cup loosely chopped (and lightly toasted) walnuts

3-4 shallots, sliced

1/2 bunch chard or kale, well washed, destemed and sliced

juice of 1/2 a lemon (about 2 T)

1/4 tsp. ground coriander

2 tsp fresh thyme

pinch evaporated cane sugar

heavy pinch red pepper flakes

2 T Evoo + more for drizzling

sea salt and fresh black pepper to taste

parmesan or manchego to garnish (totally optional)

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Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over med heat. Add shallots, pinch of sugar, red pepper flakes and two pinches of salt and sautée until the shallots become soft and take on a little color. Add lemon juice and chard/kale and continue sautéeing until the greens are soft and darker in color (about 2 minutes) then add the beans, walnuts, coriander and thyme and sautée another minute or so. Finally add the rice and any additional oil if it's looking a bit dry. Remove from flame after dish is well heated. Garnish with a dusting of parmesan or shaved manchego and serve as side or main course topped with a poached egg.