L'espérluette

good intentions

2009-12-13T03:32:00.002-05:00

L'Etranger

2006-10-16T23:51:00.000-05:00

It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid myself open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.

Kevin's montage

2006-09-30T17:07:00.000-06:00

Jawohl!

2006-09-28T09:27:00.001-06:00

Pre-emptive war was invented by Adolf Hitler. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't take anyone who came up with such a thing seriously". -- Dwight Eisenhower

no comment

2006-09-28T09:27:00.000-06:00

"We'll let history judge all the different finger-pointing and all that business. I don't have enough time to finger-point." George W. Bush, September 26, 2006

Jawohl!

2006-09-25T23:51:00.000-06:00

Pre-emptive war was invented by Adolf Hitler. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't take anyone who came up with such a thing seriously". -- Dwight Eisenhower

conscience?

2006-09-25T23:32:00.000-06:00

Conscience

I'm a hippie,
a tree-hugger,
the smoke that you exhale.
I'm the cough that wakes you up at night,
the house that you can't sell.
I'm the vote you didn't cast,
the word that you can't spell,
the parking ticket you cast aside,
the time that you can't spare.
I'm the soldier you don't think about,
the farmer you don't know;
I'm the plate you pass along-
EMPTY-
I'm the punch you didn't throw.
I'm the one you just cut off,
The little car you didn't see.
I'm you, bitch,
and you are me.

WTF?

2006-09-19T23:11:00.000-06:00

I just want you to know that, when we talk about war, we're really talking about peace.
George W. Bush

I sent American troops to Iraq to make its people free, not to make them American. Iraqis will write their own history and find their own way.
George W. Bush

I think war is a dangerous place.
GWB

holy crap...

2006-09-19T23:09:00.000-06:00

For all who love freedom and peace, the world without Saddam Hussein's regime is a better and safer place.
George W. Bush

thought for the day

2006-09-18T11:10:00.000-06:00

How far you can go without destroying from within what you are trying to defend from without?
Dwight D. Eisenhower

countdown

2006-09-16T09:06:00.000-06:00

Soul?

2006-04-09T21:03:00.000-06:00

You Are a Traveler Soul

You're a thrill seeker who loves to be active and on the move
You love to wander: between places, ideas, and people.
A good communicator, you're a nonconformist and interested in the world.
You are an explorer, a good storyteller, and a true dreamer.

Because you're always on the move, you can be a bit fickle.
It's difficult for you to make personal commitments.
Don't be so quick to ignore emotional issues and problems.
You're much more intuitive and psychic than you think.

Souls you are most compatible with: Retrospective Soul and Dreaming Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Vive la France

2006-02-07T13:32:00.008-05:00

"It was never going to work out, this break-up with France. The French-American love affair just keeps on going, a folie à deux that's lasted nearly three centuries. It's tempestuous, hot and heavy, beyond reason. Like all the great, impossible mismatches — F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda, Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee — it cannot end. The United States and France just can't keep their hands off each other. And no wonder. France is a high-maintenance double diva, demanding and capricious, but she's just too beautiful to resist, probably, as we now know, because she eats such tiny portions."

I lifted this from Anne Barone's site. Link above.

Paris bizarre

2006-02-01T11:31:00.000-05:00

Think I'll take a pass on this one.

Angels in traction?

The latest spring prète à porter fashions.

The most moving monument in Paris...

2006-01-31T08:50:00.000-05:00

The memorial to the 200,000 French citizens deported and killed by the Nazis is not designed to make you comfortable. It's hard, it's hidden, it's claustrophobic.

Come here first, then head to the other end of the Ile de la Cité to see Sainte Chappelle. You'll feel better.

Forgive, don't forget.

Emilie a Paris

2006-01-30T16:06:00.000-05:00

In front of the Palais de Justice. Merci to the Italian guys who took the picture.

La Tour Eiffel and the Pont d'Iena.

Notre Dame de Paris

Paris- pictures at last

2006-01-30T14:15:00.000-05:00

These are three ladies I met on the Gray Line tour I took. Dinner at Altitude 95 on the Tour Eiffel followed by a cruise on the Seine. It was beautiful and we had loads of fun, spiced up by the two extra bottles of wine we snagged because there was not a full group for dinner. :-) The two ladies on my right are Dubliners, the lady to my left is from Connecticut. Her friend took the picture.

A delightful first evening in Paris and highly recommended!

They all went to bed after the cruise, yours truly hooked up with the Scots Contingent and didn't make it to bed until 0740h.

:-)

Last couscous in Paris

2006-01-21T12:27:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I fly home and I'm ready, mostly. I miss Kevin - painfully- and I'm craving enchiladas. Of course on my last night I'm feeling very comfortable and know my way around this quartier better than I do in Dallas. Two French people have asked me for directions and I have made a friend. I friend I'm really going to miss.

Only one person has mentioned Bush to me, and that's a guy I have met twice now- the owner of the Cafe Montebello. He asked where I am from and then replied "oh, Texas. Zat is ze state of your president." I just shrugged and smiled and thought all sorts of clever things to say about the "state of my president" in English, but criticizing one's own country abroad just isn't done.

Tonight I dine at a Moroccan restaurant with a Swiss lady I met on the Hemingway tour today. It's my first departure from French food.

I love Paris and I'll miss the people here, their facile politesse and savoir vivre but to quote ma chere stupide Sabrina: I'll have it in my pocket when I get home.

Food poisoning in Paris 18 janvier 2006

2006-01-19T11:41:00.000-05:00

To say that the sky is grey today is like saying that the sky is up. This sky is so grey as to have no real color at all. It vaguely resembles grey and white linoleum that hasn't been mopped in months. This Parisian sky looks like my bathroom floor.

Yesterday I went out to Montmartre, sat in Sacre Coeur for a while because it was too cloudy for there to be a view, then back in the Latin Quarter I had the worst lunch I've ever had anywhere. They touted it as steak-frites, but if that grey leather came off a cow, I'm Laura Bush. Four or five hours after eating about three bites of it, I started freezing, then burning up, then freezing again, and by 8pm was hurling my guts out. That went on till 4am, when I was supposed to get up to catch my train to sunny Provence. Needless to say that didn't happen.

All I really wanted, besides my mommy, was a good cup of tea. I walked to La Mosquee de Paris, where I sipped some delicious mint tea in tiny, intricately designed glasse- for €2.00 a pop. There were little birds hopping from chandelier to chandalier and two Orthodox Jews at the table next to me.

I walked over to the Cluny Museum after that to see the Lady with the Unicorn and the partially excavated Roman baths. The place was full of small school children- fastidiously taking notes; no running, no screaming. Quite impressive.

My mood lifted once I left the musee and wandered in to Le Brasserie Balzar, sometime favorite of James Thurber and later, Adam Gopnik. From the terrace I enjoyed a student demonstration across the street from the Sorbonne, as well as the flattering trousers of the riot police, while sipping a kir royale.

A day that started awfully turned out to be pretty good after all.

Ah, Paris.

First night in Paris 14-15 janvier 2006

2006-01-18T12:46:00.000-05:00

First things first: French keyboards are different- just different enough to make you feel drunk. They have switched the q and the a and the z and the w. They moved the m and you have to shift for a period but not for a colon. Bizarre.

I am sorry I haven't posted any pictures, but the computers here at this cafe aren't equipped for pics, so they'll have to wait. The street I am on right now (Rue de la Harpe) used to be the main north/south route through Paris when the Romans were here- now it has a 24 hr internet cafe. This fascinates me. Continuity is something we just don't have in the U.S. I didn't realize that I was so hooked on email and Sleepytime tea. I miss them- and my bathtub.

I am having a blast, though. The first night I was here I met up with some Scots and we ended up in a piano bar called Les Trois Maillets (The Three Mallets) singing 'Delta Dawn' at 4am. That bar was where the men who built Notre Dame de Paris went for happy hour. This city is amazing. I wonder if the Flying Tomato will be a pizza joint 900 years from now.

Last night I turned down an offer of hashish and a foot massage, and my feet really hurt. I can't eat a meal without some sort of offer. I'm starting a sexy waiter scrapbook. One guy looked JUST like Philippe, too, but then a lot of guys here do. It's because of the two wars wiping out all the men, I'm thinking.

What else? I bought a pair of jeans and a jacket yesterday and guess what- I wear a large here. D@mn skinny minnies.

Today I went to Sacre Coeur and did some more shopping. I have to agree with Alene, though: there really is no reason to go the the rive droite. I like it so much more over here in the Q.L. The Ile de la Cite is really about as far north as you need to go. :-)

Ah, yes, the Ile de la Cite: I visited Sainte Chapelle yesterday. I can't call it a pilgrimage because the Chappelle is no longer consecrated, but it took my breath away this time, too. I also visited the Memorial aux Deportes yesterday. First heaven, then hell.

A bientot,
Emilie

Say it ain't so...

2006-01-11T14:51:00.000-05:00

You Are a Sarariiman!

Or "salaryman." Whatever. Treadmill off, treadmill on.
Most of the sleep you get is on Tokyo's extensive subway system, since you are putting in 14 hour days.
You're a workaholic who works hard for no overtime. And vacations? Forget about it.
You spend most of your trip hunting around for gifts to bring back all of your coworkers.

What's Your Japanese Subculture?

Slow day today...

2006-01-05T12:55:00.000-05:00

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.
Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.
You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.

For you, comfort and calm are very important.
You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.
You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Appellez-moi Fifi, s'il vous plait...

2006-01-05T12:04:00.000-05:00

...because I'm off to gay Paree!
I can hardly believe I'll be landing at Charles de Gaulle approximately 240 hours from this moment. I'm going home!
My ticket was bought with AA miles, so I'm splurging on a hotel with a view of Notre Dame de Paris- it's about a five minute walk away.
I'm also splurging on a shuttle from the airport instead of taking le Metro. I hope to have some good pics to post on my poor little blog when I get back.

a bientot!

NIN

2005-11-01T00:04:00.000-05:00

Saw NIN with Phatmany Oct 17.
Best concert I've ever experienced...

Just got to get right out of here...

2005-08-04T06:33:00.000-06:00

I think it's time for me to take a holiday- on my own.
Boulder?
Nice.

Wright is wrong...

2005-08-04T06:29:00.000-06:00

Summer Poem

2005-07-30T12:57:00.000-06:00

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden

Hugs from the happiest place in the Peoples' Republic...

2005-07-23T12:30:00.000-06:00

...The Peoples' Republic of Boulder that is.
The Celestial Seasonings Tea factory. It's a beautiful, seemingly always sunny place where bees buzz in the cutest little herb garden on the planet. Inside it is cool and minty sweet and the tea is free.
Ahhh, the Mint Room... Wish I were there now.

2005-07-22T20:10:00.000-06:00

Back from Boulder...

2005-07-22T12:29:00.000-06:00

7/7/5

2005-07-08T10:23:00.000-06:00

KING'S CROSS
The man at the back of the queue was sent
To feel the smack of firm government
Linger by the flyposter, for a fight
It's the same story every night

I've been hurt and we've been had
You leave home, and you don't go back
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee

Only last night I found myself lost
By the station called King's Cross
Dead and wounded on either side
You know it's only a matter of time
I've been good and I've been bad
I've been guilty of hanging around

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
So I went looking out today
For the one who got away
Murder walking round the block
Ending up in King's Cross
Good luck, bad luck waiting in a line
It takes more than the matter of time

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
And there's still no guarantee
There is still no guarantee

-Tennant/Lowe

No, no, no.

2005-05-05T14:30:00.000-06:00

From Amnesty International:

Businesswoman Huda Hafez Ahmad al-‘Azawi is believed to be held by US forces near Baghdad Airport. She has managed to send a message to her family in which she confirmed where she is being detained. There is no news regarding the reasons for her arrest and detention. Since her arrest, Huda Hafez Ahmad al-‘Azawi has not seen her family or a lawyer. At 4am on 17 February, US soldiers and members of the Iraqi National Guard forced their way into the house of Huda Hafez Ahmad al-‘Azawi, in the district of Hay al-Jami’a in Baghdad. They handcuffed and blindfolded her, and beat, handcuffed and blindfolded her two daughters, Nura aged 15 and Sarah aged 20. The soldiers reportedly took away jewelry and US$ 2,500 in cash from the house. They also allegedly raided Huda Hafez Ahmad al-‘Azawi’s office, next door to her house, taking three computers and a mobile phone. According to her daughters, the soldiers accused Huda Hafez Ahmad al-‘Azawi of “supporting the resistance”, before taking her away to an unknown location.

Read more, do more.

From the Frankenfood Front...

2005-04-28T09:53:00.000-06:00

Japanese researchers have inserted a gene from the human liver into rice to enable it to digest pesticides and industrial chemicals.

Mmm. Livery.

Tuesday...

2005-04-05T09:49:00.000-06:00

Haven't posted, haven't run, haven't done much of anything.

I read a great book, though. Africa Solo by Kevin Kertscher. Too bad it's even more dangerous to trek across the Sahara than it used to be.

Just for St. Patrick's Day...

2005-03-17T10:34:00.000-06:00

For the record, Emilie is about as Irish as single malt Scotch, but...

A nod to The Pogues and a pint for me and young Ned of the Hill.

"A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell
You who raped our motherland
I hope you're rotting down in hell
for the horrors that you sent
to our misfortunate forefathers
whom you robbed of their birthright
'To hell or Connaught'
may you burn in hell tonight..."

A thought re: moving

2005-03-17T10:19:00.000-06:00

It might be that we are all tattooed savages since Sophocles, but there is more to Art than the straightness of lines and the perfection of surfaces. Plasticity of style is not as large as the entire idea... We have too many things and not enough forms.
-Flaubert, Preface a la vie d'ecrivain

Moving, cooking, posting

2005-03-17T08:36:00.000-06:00

How to do all three?
We're moved. Been in the new place for almost a month. K still has lots of stuff in boxes. My "junque" fits in one box. I plan to cull it tonight, though. Maybe I can get it down to half a box.

On the cooking front, the other night I made angel hair pasta w/ a little cream sauce, parm, sundried tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, garlic (of course) and broccoli. Divine, or close to.

On the eating front, I can't stop. And I'm obsessed with Pad Thai now.

On the exercise front, I must at least start walking again!!!

How does one manufacture time? Time to cook, clean, take walks, play the piano and pay attention to husband and friends??? Maybe they will find some extra time when they rape ANWR. "Don't hold your breath waiting for the price of oil to come down," says NPR's Marketplace. Then why bother??? Why not just appoint the devil head of the World Bank while you're at it???

Coldgreyrainyday

2005-01-27T16:20:00.001-05:00

But not a bad one.
Yesterday morning I slathered four drumsticks with real honey Dijon mustard and a little apple cider vinegar. After work I threw them on Big George (thank you, Takeo!) and let 'em do there thing for about half an hour. Had them w/ rice and veg. Very nice, very easy.

What an entry.

Madeleines dipped in tea...

2005-01-26T13:44:00.000-05:00

When I was in the fourth or fifth grade, a family moved from NYC into the house across the street from us. Dad was Iraqi, Mom was Jewish, the kiddies were evil. Their house was huge, and in my child's memory, so were they. Tall and dark is everything about them and their home, but the smell is very clear to me... strong coffee scented with what I now know was cardamom. There were other spices, too, but it's the cardamom that stands out in my mind's nose.

I blend my own perfume and somehow today I smell like the Mukamal's house.
Every time I breathe, I think about some people I haven't seen in twenty years.

Not a good day...

2005-01-26T11:50:00.000-05:00

Last night was a total loss on the food front. Three pieces of Pizza Hut chicken and tomato pizza. It was delicious, though.

I got my W2 for last year today. I can't wait to see how much I owe Uncle Sam- I mean Iyad Allawi this year. I don't have a problem with paying taxes, I just wish I had a say in where my money goes. Bush asked Congress for another $80 million on Monday and they'll give it to him.

What to do? Cook a damn fine chicken tonight.

Only I can't use the farging oven because it sets off the fire alarm.

Oh, well, at least we have electricity and Big George.

Enjoy your day, hug your children and your friends- and your friends' children, too, and be glad you don't live in Baghdad, Gaza, Thailand... phhh.

Salsa Emilese... qu'est ce que c'est?

2005-01-25T13:44:00.000-05:00

Ingredients
1 medium onion
5 oz Shredded Carrots
7 clove garlic cloves
olive oil
1 oz red wine
1 Tbsp canned tomato paste
168 oz canned diced tomatoes - six big cans

Heat (salted) onion and carrots over med-high heat in a large pot or Dutch oven till they soften. Do not let them brown. Increase heat and add minced garlic to the pan. Saute briefly- do not let the garlic burn. Add dried basil and oregano, stir a couple times. Add wine and reduce till it has all evaporated.Add tomato paste and stir. Add canned tomatoes, stirring to mix all ingredients. Once sauce starts to boil, reduce heat to medium-ish and let it simmer half an hour or so. Cool and freeze or can it if you're that cool.

Back to normal...

2005-01-25T13:04:00.000-05:00

Well, now that we've got the Ring all nice and destroyed, we can go back to sitting at the table to eat. Ever since the marathon Ring viewing, I have been compelled to watch all three movies again... more slowly this time.
But now that the LOTR orgy is over, it's back to work.

Last night it was chicken soft tacos, not exciting, but yummy and quick enough for Starvin' Marvin here.

Tonight will probably, horribly, be Chinese delivered, but tomorrow, ah, tomorrow will be Poulet Rôti à la Nigella- with half a lemon up it's bum, some butter massaged lovingly into its skin, and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. We'll have tiny roasted new potatoes, too.

I'm hungry already....

Bonjour, world...

2005-01-24T14:04:00.000-05:00

Mealtimes were getting stale. Almost every night we were eating some form of chicken and pasta with Salsa Emilese, emphasis on the la-zy. Either that or ordering Chinese. No bueno. What happened to my extensive repetoire gleaned from the world's cuisines? The Moroccan spice-crusted chicken with orange sauce? The tangy tarrgon-infused vinegary breast of chicken from the bistros of Paris? The sweet burn of Thai Basil Chicken? The creamy drunkeness of Poulet Normandie with Calvados and cider??? Okay, so it's still all chicken, but jeez! What about the sweet, warm meditative comfort of my risotto with sundried tomatoes and basil, lovingly finished with butter and parm... off the heat, of course? My Penne à la Vodka?
I know what happened. Weight Watchers happened and I'm glad it did.
A new job happened and I'm glad it did.
Kevin's new job happened- bets are still out on that one.
Point being we were fit, we were trim, we had money. We were tired and stressed.
We had money and started eating out... which made us not so fit, not so trim, just as tired and more stressed because we were no longer so fit, so trim, or so moneyed.
Whew.
We had a fight.
About dinner.
It was ugly.
I lifted the ban on purchasing cookbooks, went out and bought Marcella Cucina at Half-Price Books and started reading. And cooking.
The first new recipe was a chicken (shocker!) fricassee with cherry tomatoes in a white wine sauce. Cut up a whole chicken, brown it, dump in white wine, lower heat, cook till tender, toss in tomatoes, cook till they split.
Served it with a crusty bâtard and a spinach salad.
It was so easy.
And it was divine.

Three weeks have passed since we've had chops and sauce, and I've lost 5 pounds. Whoo-hoo!

Every time I turn on the oven now, the fire alarm goes off.
Thank god we're moving in less than a month.
We'll have a bigger kitchen, too.