Wilco day

No sun coming up. Ashy gray at the fringes of the landscape. Decay is the theme.

Except for the inward picture where joy blooms, anticipation quickens the blood, and the movement of the day is a glorious train towards the date with my greatest mood elevator. The transformative power of music is my last great hope for unlocking emotion. Senses fail, but music awakens.

I can't wait for those boys and their thrilling rock cascades.

Autumn Depths

They say that middle age is the autumn of our lives. Today I feel it. The sickening frustration with every long held issue. The lack of olfactory stimulus weighs more heavily since I glimpsed that Paris of feeling last weekend on a prednisone high. Of course, the comedown may also be responsible for this sinking into the negative. I could have been dead by now. Or blinded by the sinus surgery. Or addicted to pain pills. Instead I have what I have to carry forward. But today these are burdens, not attributes. Stranger still hot flashes have returned. Oh the adrenal gland, are you the pit of all that makes me. And is that what Autumn is for: appreciating these undertones of life, the long ignored shade cast all around us, when all we have wanted was the sun.

Summer Endings

The heat is gone. The memories drift into that sepia tone that softens every rough spot. The baseball season is winding down. Only one game of that glut of tickets that once sprinkled our calendars with the promise of hot dogs and a chance to raise our voices at the ol' ballgame.

For me it means organizing the scrims and dabblings into something that might resemble a chapter or a story. And wonder which one of these holds the art.

Summer's sweetness waiting to be bottled. And could its music last forever?

shortest night of the year

Maybe I've got it all wrong. But it seems to me the shortest night is what it's all about. Not as much time to obsess and worry. Less time to feel fitfully awake and out of place. The rest of the world celebrates the sun, and i celebrate it's briefer break from our reality. Night when all the husbands seem like idiots, and all the accomplishments seem like child's play and every action has an equal and opposite dread.

My Trip Advisor Paris Report

I went to Paris last month for ten days to distract myself from (I mean, celebrate) my 50th birthday. I planned this trip for months, and spent untold hours lurking on this site. And first of all, I have to thank all the wonderful regulars. And I will apologize from the start to Shoesy, Berthillion was closed for the week when we went by, but I fell in love with Amorino Gelati and visited many times (rue de Buci, but they're everywhere).

We stayed in the 6eme. (Hotel Luxembourg Parc - loved it.) I read somewhere that if you stay in the 6th then you run the danger of never seeing any other neighborhoods in Paris. This could be true. Le Jardin Luxembourg in full bloom, a gardener's Disneyland. And so many many cafes, restaurants and boutiques!

Things I learned:

1) Make your planned itinerary...but be flexible. My husband was not too thrilled with the Museum Pass "crack the whip". The problem may have been that we bought a four-day pass, and I had so many museums I wanted to fit in. (Don't get me wrong... the skipping the line thing was great, especially at the Louvre.) We saw D'Orsay, Rodin, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Archeology Crypt, Louvre, Centre Pompodou, L'Orangerie, Petit Palis (actually that one was free, and I just had to go to the bathroom.) I had to let go of so many others, but I guess that means I'll have to go back. My favorites if you're looking for a quick visit recommendation, d'Orsay, Rodin and L'Orangerie.

2) Use the Metro. It took us a couple of days to venture into the Metro, but it was so easy, very well marked. I was ready to buy Carte Orange, but by the time we got there, I thought it wouldn't be that economical. In total we bought two 10 ticket carnets. And that was perfect. I recommend the Streetwise Paris map, easy to carry and refer to the Metro map.

3) Don't sweat the details. I worried about where to eat, what to wear, the shoes, the raincoats. Dumb. It never rained once. There are so many places to eat, the problem is to decide how many meals you can stuff in. The Parisian woman dress so well, there is no way to compete. I guess I passed: I wore my scarf, my best jeans, nice tops, but yes, I wore my New Balance walking shoes. I have orthotics, I needed the support. No one pointed. No one laughed. I was comfortable. I was even mistaken several times for a Parisian, don't ask me why. Je ne parle pas le francais.

4) Don't be intimated by the rumors of French rudeness. Everyone was incredibly nice and helpful, and usually tried their English with us. The only rudeness we encountered was in Gerard Mulot pattisiere on rue de Seine. The counter help there fulfilled the predicted haughtiness scenario, but the food was so damned good, we went back again and again, and laughed each time a new person was terribly snotty to us. Don't be deterred. This is some of the best food we had. We would get quiche and pastry for a picnic in the park.

5) Don't let reservations get in the way of a good meal. We also ate at Le Comptoir Relais, which all the postings were lamenting was too crowded, no reservations available. The tip is to eat early or on the weekend. It was fantastic food too. Every time we saw a table, we'd take it. I even had Pig's Feet there, unbeknownst to me (should have studied my French better), just following the waitress' suggestion, and it was fantastic too.

6) Don't eat all your meals in restaurants. There is great food in the falafel stands, Paul pattiseries are everywhere for sandwiches and salads, and lots of other great easy stops. I particularly loved eating at D'orsay and Rodin museums. Lily's Brownies (rue de Dragon) had the best cappuccinos I've ever tasted. Good sandwiches too. We went there every day.

7) Eiffel Tower is totally do-able at night. My husband was dreading this stop, the crowds, the waiting in line... We ate at a little cafe (Le P'tit Torquet) at about 7 (19:00) and then walked over to the Tower to find a very small line. We were up on the 2nd tier just as the first sparklings hit. And it was so beautiful watching night fall on the city and the lights coming on. Don't miss it. Also don't miss the night cruise on Le Seine if you are a couple, very, very romantic.

8) You don't have to spend money to enjoy this city. Just walking around, window shopping, enjoying the scenery, the people, was my favorite thing to do. I brought home pictures of many of my favorite "windows," more fun than shopping (and totally free).

Now I know why French women don't get fat... they walk so much. I didn't gain a pound.

a sense of smell

How lovely it would be to smell again. Olfactory nerves, it's hard to believe I took them so for granted. Now that I cannot smell lilacs, garlic, spring, or even the sweat on my husband, I miss so much. Feeling so sorry for myself and the list of other problems I could have doesn't make it any more manageable. I have been optimistic for over two months. Now I am impatient. The allergies seem under control. What the fuck is wrong?

It is like going deaf (although I'm sure not as bad) but anyway, the analogy, is that if I had gone deaf, I could still speak but I wouldn't know how I sounded. For me, I can still eat, and I can imagine that something tastes good, but in reality...I have no fucking clue. This is a huge part of the enjoyment of life. It's a huge part of sexual desire, pheromones. It's a huge part of the exhilaration of spring, that rush of air full of smell.

Lately I have been having sense memory rushes of smoking. As if now that all the things of my life that are missing have to be conjured in my imagination to be experienced, why not cigarettes. At least my subconscious must think this. My conscious self is too busy being mad at my brain for imagining this.

If only I could just give up eating altogether so at the very least I could lose weight along with the lost smell.