Day Four

This is going to be short because Switzerland was ultra lame. Well to be fair I stayed in Lauterbernan, (yeah that is def misspelled) a small town that's geared towards tourists. One of the locals told me that the farmers are forced to make they're cows and sheep don bells - and that it drives them crazy! (ha) What I initially thought cute and quaint is now a sales pitch. I wrote a short prose poem when I was sitting on a bench atop a hill over looking the town. Have fun.


Out here on the red tourismus bench atop a mountain - I over look the town of Lauterbernan.

The dark wooden houses are prettied by the red flowers - The two colors seem to be having an open affair.

There's a yellow trolly spindeling up into clouds for 85 Franks - I'll walk it.

Goats with bells going on walk abouts in the wild flowers - Or weeds if you're American.

I looked at a Swiss watch for 16.27 minutes - I decided not to make the purchase and a Swiss woman complained loudly in German.

The water and toilets are clean - I could probably stick a straw in the bowl and drink it if I were locked in one of their bathrooms for eleven hours.

I spent 20 Franks at an internet cafe - The shop man became irratated that I brought along a sandwhich.

1/2 a Frank for four minutes in the shower - These people make it difficult to enjoy their village.

If I were a travel writer, I'd write, come for the day - Bring a packed lunch - use their pristine bowls & play loud music as you leave - I hear they don't like that.

Smile.

Side Note

I will correct misspelling when I return - I don't have the time to be meticulous. And I will be adding photos after this whole thing is over.

Day 3

Day 3 of Paris.

After breakfast I went to the Louvre with two Aussie friends. (Of the 45 people on this tour there are 5 Americans, 6 Canadians, the rest are Aussies. If I return with an Australian accent this is why.) We decided, to my relief to split up and meet for lunch. I find a musuem outting is not something to do with friends.

There was no way to see everything, but I did stop at things that pulled me in, such as the, 'Portrait De La Comtesse Julia Aprarin'. Here are a few notes that I wrote in my journal, "Those tight black leather shoes - ringlettes in hair - plump cheeks - green eyes - she was someone's prized possession."

I also noticed that in a lot of the french works that people rarely smiled, ha or were painted with a smile - I rarely saw any teeth. This may be a silly observation, but it irked me enough to write it down. Yes, of course I saw the Mona--and to a specific person- for your information - it isn't small!

After a crab sandwhich, which I mistook for claw slow, (not yum) my friends and I went to a boutique. I bought this blue watch with little fruits on it. It was a children's watch, but it made me laugh. After the boutique my friends and I decided to split up and meet at the Eiffel Tower at 7 for dinner. The whole group was supposed to meet.

Until then I wandered the streets, took pictures, and bought fruit at a market.

The plan, or map was way off. It took much longer for me to get to the destination point than estimated. I arrived at the Eiffel tower at 7:30 and could not find my group any where. I would normally wig in these situations -- yet there was no violent pumping of the heart -- I was in Paris, at the base of the Tower. Who cares if I ditched the group for the second time in two days? At least this time it was unintentional. There was a public concert going on nearby so I went over and took photos of the funny dancers.

Once darkness arrived I thought - hm how to get back to the hotel. There was a metro nearby, I then thought -- I'm some what skilled with the NYC subway system, I can master this, so I went down. I met this lovely young French girl who assisted with directions. And it would have been right if I had only given her the correct address.

In no time houses and parks started to pass by, I was on the RER - the route to the suburbs of France! By this time it was 12 p.m. I got off with a few skater looking youngsters who jumped the train entrace. I approached them and asked if they spoke English. One of them said, "Yes, Yes I speak." He then told me to wait for the next train because it would take me back to Paris and to be careful because it was dangerous to travel the metro by night. ( Ha Awesome) I didn't want to pay to re-enter, so I threw my bag over and also jumped the entrance the selfsame way the boys did - They liked that and rooted me on. It was a smile moment.

Well, I got on the train - and yup, it was the wrong one, so I got off at the next stop. I approached this middle aged Frenchman, who was a scientist, and who is currently working on Colfusion. (Right.) He walked me to the opposite plat- form, told me to get off at Paris Dorm, and told me to, "beware because the metro isn't safe at night, especially for a young beautiful American girl."

I then approached a group of french teenagers to request use of a cell phone. I figured the tour guide, Claudia may be wondering about my where abouts. They were darling!  One of them called my hotel and spoke to the front desk.

I then took the right train to Paris Dorm, and caught a cab. The cab driver said, "you're a beautiful girl," I would typically say I know under such cirsumstances, but I was too tired, and it would most likely confuse him, so I responded, "thank you."

 Due to his lack of speed the fare commenced to add up, as did my anxiety. I didn't want to be rude - people were being so kind to me everywhere I went, there was no rudeness to be found within myself. So, I asked him to pull over because I wanted to walk the rest. He told me no, it was too dangerous. I told him I didn't care - I think he sensed that I noticed that I was worried about the fare, so he said, " pay now and I take you." I asked him if he was sure - he said "yes yes- I take you". Well, folks he did. (I had to watch my budget, it only being day 3.)

This is my testament that French aren't all bad. Wink. Enjoy.

Day 2 (I May Not Be The Tour Gal Type)

Day 2 started with orientation. My Aussie friend, R, and I went to the meeting together, and sat together for the various transports that took us to Paris. (bus and cruise ship - both were decent) By the time we arrived to our hotel I could not stand the group situation for much longer - talking through transport for 7 hours straight was fun - but it's tiring. I need my think time. I need moments to gape out of a window, take in my surroundings, and to think of the meaning of life.

After we were settled at the hotel. (four girls to a room) We got back on the bloody bus for a tour of Paris. The plan was to get out and sprint to locations, then get back on the bus to the next destination. Once we got to the first local, the Notre Dame, I slowed down to a crawl as the rest of the group followed the tour guide. I don't like being rushed when getting ready for drinks, forget about being rushed through Paris. When we were on route back to the bus, I decided in a split second that I had to lose these people. When they went left, I went right, and that was that.

I walked a few blocks, stopped, purchased a crepe, and walked around as I ate. I then went to a bar for a glass of wine, sat and studied my French/Italian phrase book.

When I went to the restroom to re-apply my lipstick there was this blonde french woman who starred at me as she washed her hands. When I finished painting my lips, French lady started to make expressive hand gestures. She wanted my lip stick, but to be sure as to what she wanted, I held it up and asked, "you want this?" She excitedly shook her head as if I were about to hand it over. My response was, "absolutly not," followed by "no, no". Well, she got no, and abruptly left.

When I returned to my table I started to think about what had just occured - was this the culture, did I insult her? I then waved my waiter over and explained to him what had just went down. He shook his head, "no no, that is not common." Ha why do these things happen to me?

Before leaving the bar I approached the owner, since I was told that he spoke English. I needed to know where the closest taxi station was. When I asked he offered to drive me home. "If you can wait until 2 I can drive you." I told him that is was sweet of him to offer, but if he were to hail me a cab that would be efficient enough. He did his best to change my mind - which is the worst way to get me to do anything. He asked me to come see him the next night. I lied and said yes - he got my cab and I jet.

Smile

Day 1

Hello People,

I am currently in Switzerland and I keep getting mz Ys and Zs mixed up, so bare with me. There's a mountain and waterfall outside my window - on the walk here I could not take five steps without snapping a photo - It's incredable, it's more than that, if I had additional time I would look up a more fitting word -

It's hard to come by internet cafes in Paris, so let's play catch up.

Day One -On the plane ride to London, I had one emotional break down 39,000 ft up, which is pretty good for me. The captain announced for seat belts to be fastened and for the flight attendants to get in their jump seats. When I heard "jump seats", the tears started to roll and I said, or screamed why- many many times. The woman across from me consoled me, told me it was going to be alright - sometimes that's all we need. She became my rational voice since mine had taken leave, every time the plane shook I looked at her - she nodded- and I was okay.

After galavanting around London's streets with a handful of Americans, I was hoping to catch some sleep, since I hadn't the night before. The Geneator Hostel had plenty going on, sleep is not one of them.

When I got to my room there was a girl, there was a boy. A boy, in the all girls room. I didn't think much of it since the hostel was completely out of control. I went to bed at 1:30 a.m.

At 2 a.m. four Swedish girls entered, (there were 6 beds in the room) looking for their assigned beds. They caused a huff since there weren't enough beds -- Security came - woke up the guy - and told him to get the hell out.

Twenty minutes later someone comes in to change the sheets, twenty after that the Swedish girls return to the room. They stood there chattering away in their language. I kept telling myself to have fun this was a hostel, that these are the happenings of hostels. That didn't work for long because in no time I cleared my throat quite loudly and told them to pipe down because my friend and I were to wake up early, to my surprise they were apologetic and quieted down.

At 4 a.m the initial girl, R, started to cry out, "Ow Ow Ow," at first, I thought it was a dream. Once I came around and realized I wasn't in Jane's dream world, I asked her what was wrong. She said, "it's my leg, my leg, I can't move my leg." At that point I knew it was bad cirrculation, since my mother suffers from it as well. So, I jumped out of bed, threw back her covers and started to message the calf she pointed to. After a bit she started to feel right again, I suggested for her to walk about the room because she needed to get her blood going. She did and we went back to sleep. At least I attempted to sleep. I lyed there in shock, I had no idea who this girl was, but my chest got tight at this girl's distress.  I guess I just did what had to be done?

Why - Hello,

I have decided to go public - what is the point of having a blog that no-one reads? If anyone crosses upon this - to those who know me hellos and winks - to those who don't strong handshakes and welcomes.

Tomorrow I leave for Europe and I intend to write where ever I can. (Internet Cafes and such - there's no chance I'm schleping my lab top around- the less I am responsible for the better.) I'm going for three weeks. I know not super long, but long enough. Yes? Who knows I may stay longer..Smile.

Before I go I want to kick this off with last weekends activities.

 Last Friday night my friend K and I went to Aroma, this spanishish night club. Once inside I scanned the room and decided right there that I was not drinking, one of us had to keep our wits about us. We went to meet up with K's ex and his friends. How else can I explain this bunch but a group of Ricci Ricardo look alikes with the personalities of any inadament object, pick one, and bingo you have it. They could not hold a conversation! One of them which went by the name of Julian attempted to make some type of connection with me by running his hand through my hair, then grabbing my belt loop and pulling me in to dance. I stiffly moved away and said, "Yeah that's a bit too touchy."

An hour into the night I pulled K's ex aside to ask him just what was wrong with him and his friends. Were they retarded - because if so maybe I could understand. His explanation was that they don't talk much when they go out, not even amongst themselves. When they do get chatty it's out on the dance floor with a woman, and that's how they make nice. I can accept that for it's face value, no actually I cannot, when I'm sitting at a table with five men, I expect someone to entertain me. Is this the Latin way, the Colombian way, or was it that I simply had a run in with a number of douche bags?

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Saturday R and I finally spent a substantial amount of time together. I picked him up from the train station an hour late, (What! I got lost! I stopped for directions four different times!)then we lunched at Paneras. We spoke of everything but our situation, which seems to happen a lot, since we're both afraid to deal with the hard stuff. After lunch we went to a nearby park, walked around the man made lake, and sat. We had a heartfelt talk, went back to my house, had another heartfelt talk, ordered pizza, then had another heart felt talk. In fin - I think we're going to test the waters - maybe date again? I'm not sure, we didn't type out the logistics and sign the dotted line. I guess we're going to see - but it's an exciting we're going to see.

On a frantic note: In the midst of all the talks of feelings I lost my favorite sweater - It's this tan 'American Rag' throw type, which my mother bought for me in Florida. At 9:30 p.m. we return to the park in an attempt to retrace our steps. We walked around the slightly lit grounds - it would have been romantic if I weren't chanting - Please be there, Please be there, Please be there. As we search on R remembered that "you put a bunch of things on the hood of your car before we left." And that is when my chest tightened. I couldn't remember seeing my journal since early that afternoon. It was as if I were being laughed at by desperation because it had nothing on me. In an attempt to make sense of the whole matter I decided to do an experiment to tell if I had lost my prized thoughts. I pulled into the last parking lot we were at, put my soft covered spanish book from two semesters ago on the hood of the car, and took off. R wasn't sure what I was doing but went with it to indulge me. The book stayed on for some time, but once the car reached 45 it flew off and went splat! We heard it - there was no way we wouldn't hear my journal sailing and crashing away from me, it was a small comfort. I sped home from there - ran from my car to my house - and was greeted by my journal from atop my dining room table. Ha Sweater what? Who cares. I have my words and that is all that matters.

Gentleman vs Brute

Today I had run ins with two species of men; the gentleman and the brute.

The gentleman is a fellow student who I have two classes with. We have barely spoken at all this semester due to the awkwardness between us. You see, two semesters ago we met at the school book store, he worked there. I became friendly, as I do with most people and he asked for my number as most men who speak with me for over 15 minutes do. I gave him my number, fully knowing that I wasn't going to answer because hello, I have a boyfriend. I just couldn't say no! So yes he called shortly after I left him. I didn't answer like I knew I wouldn't and left it at that.

We haven't really crossed paths since until this semester, since we have a class together. We had been avoiding eye contact for months and three weeks ago I couldn't take it anymore. I confronted him in the hall and told him that I was sorry for not answering his phone calls, that I didn't because I had a boyfriend, and I didn't know what to say. Well, long story short, we made nice. 

Last Monday we hung out - completely unplanned. We went to Barns and Noble, cruised the books and stopped at 'Poet In New York' Lorca, being his favorite poet, he had me read two of his pieces. They were good, a little abstract to read while he stood right there, but allow me to take it to lunch alone, and I'm sure I would enjoy it.

After B&N we went to Whole Foods and talked about relationships over sushi. It was nice to chat and bounce ideas off someone new. 

Today we met again at his request. We ate hot dogs as we talked and walked around City Hall Park. We talked of chess and the seriousness of my coffee addiction. He walked me to class which was nice. As we said goodbye he said he had something for me. When he unzipped his back pack he pulled out 'Poet In New York'. (Did you know?)

In that moment I did know what else to say but thank you. It was such a thoughtful gesture. Thirty minutes into that class I sent him a thank you text, "That was so thoughtful".  His response being, "Ur somebody I like doing nice things for." I cannot express this enough how sweet that statement was.

I haven't responded because frankly I don't know what to say. I still have that boyfriend. Either way, my point being he is a gentleman. And I will treat him accordingly.

On to the brute.

On the NJtransit home I was attempting to read 'Dracula,' yet this lude lude character kept loudly speaking of his disgusting sexual exploits. It was that bitch this and this bitch that. "she had a fat ass" and "I would eff that". I kept telling myself, Jane just calm down - don't say anything crazy. These two guys were the types that would say something un-smart as a girl passes them by, and as I sat there I began to rehearse in my head just what I was going to say in case this brute were to comment to me.

As these lines of, - You are ruining public transportation - zoomed through my head - the main brute said loudly, "look at that fat ass, I would bang that," as he starred through the window at some poor girl. I kid you not, I shut my book and belted out, "Hey you- shut up - up there!" The other one starred at me and there was silence. After realizing what I had just said, I became nervous.

Luckily the conductor was taking tickets as the brute started to say something to me, and the conductor told him to shut it or get off the train. When my stop neared I got off and went past without any exchange of words. Wooo that was a close one. My point being? I have no patience for brutes. 

Coffee Withdrawal

All production has stopped  today.  It's day two of no coffee. Yesterday wasn't so bad, I thought I was getting off easy, well I thought that too soon. Today I awoke in a cloud state. You know when you wake up and ask yourself- Why am I waking up? That was me this morning, so I went back to sleep for two more hours. I don't know how I'm going to hold an actual work schedule when I graduate. .

Here's what I did today: I ate, went to the bank, played a hand of cards, and watched this Brazilian soap opera in which Brazilian actors/actresses attempt to pose as Indians - dress like them - talk like them - Ali Baba the whole bit. 

So, my current news really isn't my news, but my mother's. Two nights ago she told me that she's going to Florida this week to buy an Apt. and to shhh because she isn't telling my father. Come on! Today she told me that she's going to leave him a note saying that she's staying with a friend in NJ and I am to tell him I don't know where she is. This could not be at a worse time. I'm leaving next week on my trip - and now I'm left alone with father who will most likely be irate at the fact that my mother has up and left again without word. The best was when she left a note saying: Dear Bobby I've gone to Isreal - I didn't tell you because you would bother me too much - God Bless. 

I also understand why she has to do this, and I'm a little proud that she is. She has been wanting to move to FL for years now. Every year my father tells her next year. She's Brazilian she can't take the change of season any longer. She's 67 and deserves to be happy. If FL makes her smile, then that is where she should be. It's too bad my father doesn't think so - He is in for a surprise. 

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Two days till I talk to R, I don't want to use Aden anymore, it doesn't feel right. I miss him. I don't know what to think or what to want. If he's going to tell me it isn't worth it - I am not going to change his verdict. I want someone who will fight for me, to change for me, to make me change for him. If I get the tired - "It's so hard" Then I will make it easier and retire from this whole subject. Ah sad face. 

Thoughts at 3:11a.m. on 5/3/09

I haven't written in a long while, long being a massive understatement. I am currently on a break with "Aden". The nickname should speak for itself. I nicknamed him so after the 'Sex and the City' character - Aden. The man Carrie loved but couldn't marry. My problem, not being a Mr. Big lingering in a black car waiting for me some where - it's more of I'm dating a Peter Pan without the green tights. I've used that before and yeah I like it.

In 5 months he will be 37. Age wouldn't matter if we weren't dating for three years and the only utterance of marriage came from me! And it's not like I want to get married next week - he's 13 years my senior. The problem is that he has made zero effort of being an adult. At some point of our relationship I stopped trying. Maybe it was 6 months ago? Jeez maybe a year ago? Why invest more when it's not going further than the front steps? If I'm not going to get in the car and go for a scenic drive somewhere - what's the point? 

So now we are taking this time to evaluate ourselves, each other, and this relationship. It's been what? Three weeks? A month? I've thought about it a lot and I miss him terribly. The first week it felt like I was mourning a lost limb - I took to eating things I normally wouldn't, but did because he liked them - Example cream in my coffee - I'm a quick pour of milk and sugar. The second week I thought about all the things that I should have done - could have done - dance with him at that wedding is def one of them. The third week I saw him briefly because I won this award and he came to the ceremony because it was important - but we barely spoke - it was weird - I called him afterwards to discuss it and he seemed so cut off and business like that lately I've been feeling dead inside about this. Is he going out - ignoring me- ignoring this? Like he's done with everything else? We're meeting or talking in four days. Is he going to meet with me to tell me it's just too hard? That's been his theme song. The tragic part is that- I initiated this break! I don't know if I want to be with him because of his zero effort and there he goes again giving zero effort. Yeah this is making me sad - so I'm going to stop because it's difficult to snap out of that. 

The semester is nearly over. One more poetry class, and a final, and a bunch of work I have to make up - I'm taking off to Europe in less than two weeks - I booked it before this break - but the timing couldn't be better. I need something new to write about.