Léa and Baptiste had carnaval today at school. I picked them up around 11h30 with a friend and took them home to get ready. I had made penne in a whisky moscato sauce right before I picked them up so they ate as I showered. The pasta sauce idea kind of just came to me. I was looking around the kitchen and saw that there was a bit of alcohol left from my party so I wanted to get rid of it. I was craving pasta with a semi-sweet sauce so I thought, why not? I hadn't eaten a real meal in awhile so I thought today was a good time to get creative. I minced some garlic and sliced some white onions which I sautéed in butter. Then I found some frozen chanterelle mushrooms and cocktail onions which I threw into the mixture. Next came the alcohol. There was about a cup of whiskey left and a half a cup of moscato so I just finished off the bottles. I poured the alcohol over the vegetables and allowed the mixture to boil. Once the alcohol had boiled off and the sauce had reduced by half, I mixed in some brown sugar. I allowed the sauce to cool before I added the heavy cream. Today is the first day I've actually had an appetite so my concoction treated my taste buds well. The kids also seemed to enjoy it so that made me happy.
After lunch, the kids changed into their costumes. Baptiste decided to dress up as a soccer player--how original, ha haha. Léa and Colline decided they wanted to be goth for the day so they dressed in all black with skulls and crosses in random places. The next step was make-up which was my job. I put white foundation on the girls' faces, lined their eyes heavily, slapped on the black lipstick, and painted red streaks in their hair. I think my real-life goth friends would criticize me for this but hey, it wasn't my idea, and I was working with what I had. They're kids, they don't actually know anyone in the gothic world.
I dropped the kids off around 13h30, met maman by her office so I could get some paperwork from her, and drove straight to Krystle's. All of my friends in France have really been there for me this week, especially Krystle. She's really good at talking me through situations and getting me to some sort of conclusion so I can achieve some peace of mind. This time though, the process involved a little blue pill. Though I wouldn't normally take meds for my nerves, Krystle obviously knew that the Valium would help this time around. And she was right, I did feel better. I was still sad about my rabbit dying, but I wasn't as tormented. I wouldn't say I forgot about it, but it wasn't all that I thought about. I was distracted.
Krystle and I went to centre ville to run some errands. We stopped by our banks, gave some money to the less fortunate, and stopped by the sous-prefecture where I attempted to renew my student visa. The old building had some sizeable doors and no signs so I buzzed every button out there. A man came to the smallest door, opened the mail slot, and asked me what I needed. When I told him that I needed to extend my visa, he told me that they were closed and to come back Monday. They were 'closed' an hour before actual closing time so I was irritated. That's the thing about France, businesses don't actually have to abide by their listed hours. Since we had over an hour left before we had any other obligations, Krystle and I decided to get some coffee at a new café. We were in a part of centre ville that I never visit so it was pretty neat. I actually really love the location we stopped at and prefer the service over that of the Cours Mirabeau or Rue d'Italie.
Sebastien was due home around 17h00 so I took Krystle back so she could make him lunch. I got a text message from Andréa around the same time saying that he'd be at the house soon so we zipped out of the café. Andréa offered to come to Aix to drive Baptiste to soccer practice. He had been late the past two times due to his sisters forgetting random things at the house. I told Andréa that it wasn't his responsibility to take Baptiste to practice and that I didn't want him to use any gas on my part (especially after what he said during our dispute) so I told him not to come. He basically told me that he was just being a dick on Monday and that he didn't actually care about how much gas he used to see me, and that he wanted to come. I wasn't ready to see him yet and tried to find any excuse I could to deter him but none of it worked.
When Andréa arrived at the house, it was weird. He was obviously embarrassed for the way he acted and had his head bowed down the whole time. Anytime he looked up and caught my eyes, he'd blush and put his head back down. I kind of found this funny. I didn't feel like talking about what happened on Monday so I finished cleaning up in the kitchen as he just stood there. I wasn't really doing it to ignore him but I just felt really detached from him. It's like when you know that you love someone but so much has happened and so much time has elapsed that you've forgotten what it's like. I hate to say this but I felt like Andréa was a stranger to me. The memories that I had with him seemed like they took place years ago.
The two of us went and grabbed the triplets from their schools. Andréa and Baptiste took off toward the soccer stadium while I dropped Camille off at the pool and took Léa home with me. I had maman pick Gregoire up from the creche because my car was running on empty and I was afraid it would die on the road since the gas light had been on all day. I told maman I didn't have any gas earlier and she said she would fill it up later. I guess when I said I needed gas she thought I still had enough left to run the kids all over town. Sooo not the case. I used to ask for gas money when the tank was down to a quarter of a tank, but I've resorted to asking for it when I'm on empty because maman said that I fill up too often. They've started going to the gas station with me and filling my car up all the way which is so much better! Now they can see how much gas I use with the kids and how crappy the gas mileage on the car is.
As everyone else was at work or practice, Léa, Andréa and I were at the house alone. When Léa went outside to play with Google, Andréa started talking. When he got on the subject of how he was terrified he had actually lost me, he started crying. I couldn't really empathize with him this time and I can honestly say that I didn't feel bad, but I still gave him a hug and rubbed his back. Just because it's what I would normally do. He went on to explain that he knew he was being an asshole while he was yelling at me but that he was too proud to take any of it back. That bothered me but I know I can be guilty of that at times. The difference between him and I though, is that I'm really not violent when I'm being a bitch. He got whatever he needed to say out of his system and though I had more clarity on the situation I didn't feel any closer to him.
When everyone got home that night, Andréa took me out to dinner. We went to Piazza Papa which is one of my favorite places, only because it has my favorite salad with fromage blanc. My appetite still wasn't entirely back but I was at least able to taste my meal. I ate my whole salad and most of the meat cutlet. Sadly, the mound of pasta was left mostly untouched. I wanted to bring the leftovers to a homeless man I saw by the parking garage but like I said in past posts, to-go boxes are a French faux pas.
As we walked past the homeless man on our way to the car, I saw how much he loved his dogs--feeding them all the food he had without taking a bite himself. This, of course, reminded me of Simba who was bigger than most small dogs. I started getting teary-eyed. I realized I was getting overwhelmed with sadness and couldn't let the thought of Simba go. I started feeling depressed in the car but I knew we were going out tonight with Krystle and Sebastien. I didn't want to ruin anyone's time by being a downer so I took the other Valium that Krystle had given me. I still didn't have much food in my stomach and I'm sensitive to medication anyway so it took no time for the effects to hit me. I remember feeling nonchalant and really indifferent to everything.
By the time the four of us made it to O'Neals I was feeling okay. I was neither sad or happy. I didn't dance which is absolutely strange for me. I basically just existed. Krystle thought that I would liven up if I drank but I was still feeling the effects of last weekend's hangover so I refused. She basically took my head and pushed it against the straw until I took a sip. After that first sip, I was okay to drink, though not much. I was a bit tipsy but I still felt inhibited so by 1h45, Andréa and I decided to go.
On our way to the car, we passed by a young man who was passed out on the sidewalk. You all know me, I can't just walk by without doing something, and it was cold so Andréa, another passerby, and I stopped. I crouched down to wake up the guy. It took a few times...When the guy woke up, he was super violent, but only toward the older man. He tried to pick a fight with the kind gentleman which I convinced to walk away. Andréa offered to give the older man a ride but he refused and continued on home with the drunken idiot trailing him and talking shit. I was scared for him, but he seemed sure of himself. I hope they both made it home safely. Andréa explained to me that you should never wake up a drunken person in France because 9 times out of 10 they'll be aggressive. Faux Pas lesson 101. It baffles me because if you wake up a drunken person in the states, they're always so thankful that you're not leaving them out there for the cops to arrest them. Maybe people don't get ticketed here for being drunk in public?
As Andréa and I passed through the tunnel in Marseille, I started sobering up. I finally realized that I was going back to Andréa's apartment and that I would be alone with him. I started freaking out, thinking back to him screaming at me on Monday. I wasn't ready to go back yet but I remembered telling him at the bar that I would. It was too late to turn around now. We were almost there. I began having a panic attack and for me, the only solution was telling Andréa how I felt. He said he understood and that somewhat put me at ease but I was still uncomfortable. I didn't really know what to do with myself when we got to his apartment. I obviously felt welcome there but it still didn't feel right. I just climbed into bed and fell asleep with Andréa kissing my back.
After lunch, the kids changed into their costumes. Baptiste decided to dress up as a soccer player--how original, ha haha. Léa and Colline decided they wanted to be goth for the day so they dressed in all black with skulls and crosses in random places. The next step was make-up which was my job. I put white foundation on the girls' faces, lined their eyes heavily, slapped on the black lipstick, and painted red streaks in their hair. I think my real-life goth friends would criticize me for this but hey, it wasn't my idea, and I was working with what I had. They're kids, they don't actually know anyone in the gothic world.
I dropped the kids off around 13h30, met maman by her office so I could get some paperwork from her, and drove straight to Krystle's. All of my friends in France have really been there for me this week, especially Krystle. She's really good at talking me through situations and getting me to some sort of conclusion so I can achieve some peace of mind. This time though, the process involved a little blue pill. Though I wouldn't normally take meds for my nerves, Krystle obviously knew that the Valium would help this time around. And she was right, I did feel better. I was still sad about my rabbit dying, but I wasn't as tormented. I wouldn't say I forgot about it, but it wasn't all that I thought about. I was distracted.
Krystle and I went to centre ville to run some errands. We stopped by our banks, gave some money to the less fortunate, and stopped by the sous-prefecture where I attempted to renew my student visa. The old building had some sizeable doors and no signs so I buzzed every button out there. A man came to the smallest door, opened the mail slot, and asked me what I needed. When I told him that I needed to extend my visa, he told me that they were closed and to come back Monday. They were 'closed' an hour before actual closing time so I was irritated. That's the thing about France, businesses don't actually have to abide by their listed hours. Since we had over an hour left before we had any other obligations, Krystle and I decided to get some coffee at a new café. We were in a part of centre ville that I never visit so it was pretty neat. I actually really love the location we stopped at and prefer the service over that of the Cours Mirabeau or Rue d'Italie.
Sebastien was due home around 17h00 so I took Krystle back so she could make him lunch. I got a text message from Andréa around the same time saying that he'd be at the house soon so we zipped out of the café. Andréa offered to come to Aix to drive Baptiste to soccer practice. He had been late the past two times due to his sisters forgetting random things at the house. I told Andréa that it wasn't his responsibility to take Baptiste to practice and that I didn't want him to use any gas on my part (especially after what he said during our dispute) so I told him not to come. He basically told me that he was just being a dick on Monday and that he didn't actually care about how much gas he used to see me, and that he wanted to come. I wasn't ready to see him yet and tried to find any excuse I could to deter him but none of it worked.
When Andréa arrived at the house, it was weird. He was obviously embarrassed for the way he acted and had his head bowed down the whole time. Anytime he looked up and caught my eyes, he'd blush and put his head back down. I kind of found this funny. I didn't feel like talking about what happened on Monday so I finished cleaning up in the kitchen as he just stood there. I wasn't really doing it to ignore him but I just felt really detached from him. It's like when you know that you love someone but so much has happened and so much time has elapsed that you've forgotten what it's like. I hate to say this but I felt like Andréa was a stranger to me. The memories that I had with him seemed like they took place years ago.
The two of us went and grabbed the triplets from their schools. Andréa and Baptiste took off toward the soccer stadium while I dropped Camille off at the pool and took Léa home with me. I had maman pick Gregoire up from the creche because my car was running on empty and I was afraid it would die on the road since the gas light had been on all day. I told maman I didn't have any gas earlier and she said she would fill it up later. I guess when I said I needed gas she thought I still had enough left to run the kids all over town. Sooo not the case. I used to ask for gas money when the tank was down to a quarter of a tank, but I've resorted to asking for it when I'm on empty because maman said that I fill up too often. They've started going to the gas station with me and filling my car up all the way which is so much better! Now they can see how much gas I use with the kids and how crappy the gas mileage on the car is.
As everyone else was at work or practice, Léa, Andréa and I were at the house alone. When Léa went outside to play with Google, Andréa started talking. When he got on the subject of how he was terrified he had actually lost me, he started crying. I couldn't really empathize with him this time and I can honestly say that I didn't feel bad, but I still gave him a hug and rubbed his back. Just because it's what I would normally do. He went on to explain that he knew he was being an asshole while he was yelling at me but that he was too proud to take any of it back. That bothered me but I know I can be guilty of that at times. The difference between him and I though, is that I'm really not violent when I'm being a bitch. He got whatever he needed to say out of his system and though I had more clarity on the situation I didn't feel any closer to him.
When everyone got home that night, Andréa took me out to dinner. We went to Piazza Papa which is one of my favorite places, only because it has my favorite salad with fromage blanc. My appetite still wasn't entirely back but I was at least able to taste my meal. I ate my whole salad and most of the meat cutlet. Sadly, the mound of pasta was left mostly untouched. I wanted to bring the leftovers to a homeless man I saw by the parking garage but like I said in past posts, to-go boxes are a French faux pas.
As we walked past the homeless man on our way to the car, I saw how much he loved his dogs--feeding them all the food he had without taking a bite himself. This, of course, reminded me of Simba who was bigger than most small dogs. I started getting teary-eyed. I realized I was getting overwhelmed with sadness and couldn't let the thought of Simba go. I started feeling depressed in the car but I knew we were going out tonight with Krystle and Sebastien. I didn't want to ruin anyone's time by being a downer so I took the other Valium that Krystle had given me. I still didn't have much food in my stomach and I'm sensitive to medication anyway so it took no time for the effects to hit me. I remember feeling nonchalant and really indifferent to everything.
By the time the four of us made it to O'Neals I was feeling okay. I was neither sad or happy. I didn't dance which is absolutely strange for me. I basically just existed. Krystle thought that I would liven up if I drank but I was still feeling the effects of last weekend's hangover so I refused. She basically took my head and pushed it against the straw until I took a sip. After that first sip, I was okay to drink, though not much. I was a bit tipsy but I still felt inhibited so by 1h45, Andréa and I decided to go.
On our way to the car, we passed by a young man who was passed out on the sidewalk. You all know me, I can't just walk by without doing something, and it was cold so Andréa, another passerby, and I stopped. I crouched down to wake up the guy. It took a few times...When the guy woke up, he was super violent, but only toward the older man. He tried to pick a fight with the kind gentleman which I convinced to walk away. Andréa offered to give the older man a ride but he refused and continued on home with the drunken idiot trailing him and talking shit. I was scared for him, but he seemed sure of himself. I hope they both made it home safely. Andréa explained to me that you should never wake up a drunken person in France because 9 times out of 10 they'll be aggressive. Faux Pas lesson 101. It baffles me because if you wake up a drunken person in the states, they're always so thankful that you're not leaving them out there for the cops to arrest them. Maybe people don't get ticketed here for being drunk in public?
As Andréa and I passed through the tunnel in Marseille, I started sobering up. I finally realized that I was going back to Andréa's apartment and that I would be alone with him. I started freaking out, thinking back to him screaming at me on Monday. I wasn't ready to go back yet but I remembered telling him at the bar that I would. It was too late to turn around now. We were almost there. I began having a panic attack and for me, the only solution was telling Andréa how I felt. He said he understood and that somewhat put me at ease but I was still uncomfortable. I didn't really know what to do with myself when we got to his apartment. I obviously felt welcome there but it still didn't feel right. I just climbed into bed and fell asleep with Andréa kissing my back.
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