Creme Caramel and Art
The former to eat and the latter to digest.
For those who know my penchant for midnight hunger, you should be proud that I've refrained almost completely from this hobby. But, help me god if I had to go turkey. I like it with warm mashed potatoes. And creme caramel has become that mashed potatoes substitute. So, a delicious cup of this taters sustains me through the long cold Parisian nights.
But, enough! with this eating business. I've been cooking a lot nowadays. I finally finished my half kilo of beef I bought on Friday on Monday night. I got it from a meat shop near Denfert-Rochereau. Real fresh and unbelievable tender and sweet. I'm meant to be in Europe - this is only another divine sign. But, I had dinner with my host family's son and his friends yesternight. He steamed some shrimp dumplings, fried some eggrolls, and sauted some beef and onions for the rice that I cooked.
It was the first time in a long while that I was really quiet at dinner unwillingly. I could only look on and perk up my ears to their very quick talk. I hated it. I felt so mute! And it involved so much straining and concentration. It wasn't worth it while eating. I can't multitask very well - so, I picked one. I think you know which one. But, it was cool to be in the middle of real French young adults - be it that they were all about two years older than me, I still felt pretty equal. I did speak though - however, it was merely to assert to them that indeed I wasn't mute and dumb. But, I don't think I delivered the second adjective.
Today, I am officially an "art history student." Doubt me not for I have a card to prove it - Louvre certified too. I don't know how I feel about this art history thing. I don't know if we really both want the same things in this relationship. I think I need to have a "sit down" with art history and explain to it what I'm looking for and if it's okay with it.
"I'm only here for a short time and I just want to have some fun. I don't think I can commit. It's too much to ask from me. I can't see myself with you in the long run - say ten years down the line. I just don't think we would be happy then. And think about the logical things, I just don't think we could support each other. But, don't let that stop us from spending this wonderful time together now. I really like being with you. And even if it's for another 8 weeks. It's something that I'll always have fond memories of. So, I hope you can understand me and that we can still keep this up."
Now, I just have to memorize this and have the conviction to deliver it when the time comes.
I finished Manon Lescaut today. I really loved the tragically beautiful ending scene. Two passionate and fucked-up lovers next to each other in a vast field of flowing grass in the wildness of 18th century New Orleans... one naked and the other dead. Very plaintively sweet and perfect. It was the most Romantic element in this novel - the return to the nature to love and to die. I couldn't get my eyes off of the book in the end. I finished it walking up to the glass pyramid at the Louvre courtyard. All in all, I want to be fucked up.
When I was done with the novel, I looked up and Bam! That huge contemporary glass structure being embraced within the outstretched arms of classical Louvre. It was so conflictingly raw! But, it was such a kind consolidation of the archaic with the sterile nouveau. After Manon and the I.M. Pei, I was put into a mild trance of Romantic grandeur ... something I am usually very fond of.
Alors, I think that's all for now.
"... you were the last high."
(the Dandy Warhols)
For those who know my penchant for midnight hunger, you should be proud that I've refrained almost completely from this hobby. But, help me god if I had to go turkey. I like it with warm mashed potatoes. And creme caramel has become that mashed potatoes substitute. So, a delicious cup of this taters sustains me through the long cold Parisian nights.
But, enough! with this eating business. I've been cooking a lot nowadays. I finally finished my half kilo of beef I bought on Friday on Monday night. I got it from a meat shop near Denfert-Rochereau. Real fresh and unbelievable tender and sweet. I'm meant to be in Europe - this is only another divine sign. But, I had dinner with my host family's son and his friends yesternight. He steamed some shrimp dumplings, fried some eggrolls, and sauted some beef and onions for the rice that I cooked.
It was the first time in a long while that I was really quiet at dinner unwillingly. I could only look on and perk up my ears to their very quick talk. I hated it. I felt so mute! And it involved so much straining and concentration. It wasn't worth it while eating. I can't multitask very well - so, I picked one. I think you know which one. But, it was cool to be in the middle of real French young adults - be it that they were all about two years older than me, I still felt pretty equal. I did speak though - however, it was merely to assert to them that indeed I wasn't mute and dumb. But, I don't think I delivered the second adjective.
Today, I am officially an "art history student." Doubt me not for I have a card to prove it - Louvre certified too. I don't know how I feel about this art history thing. I don't know if we really both want the same things in this relationship. I think I need to have a "sit down" with art history and explain to it what I'm looking for and if it's okay with it.
"I'm only here for a short time and I just want to have some fun. I don't think I can commit. It's too much to ask from me. I can't see myself with you in the long run - say ten years down the line. I just don't think we would be happy then. And think about the logical things, I just don't think we could support each other. But, don't let that stop us from spending this wonderful time together now. I really like being with you. And even if it's for another 8 weeks. It's something that I'll always have fond memories of. So, I hope you can understand me and that we can still keep this up."
Now, I just have to memorize this and have the conviction to deliver it when the time comes.
I finished Manon Lescaut today. I really loved the tragically beautiful ending scene. Two passionate and fucked-up lovers next to each other in a vast field of flowing grass in the wildness of 18th century New Orleans... one naked and the other dead. Very plaintively sweet and perfect. It was the most Romantic element in this novel - the return to the nature to love and to die. I couldn't get my eyes off of the book in the end. I finished it walking up to the glass pyramid at the Louvre courtyard. All in all, I want to be fucked up.
When I was done with the novel, I looked up and Bam! That huge contemporary glass structure being embraced within the outstretched arms of classical Louvre. It was so conflictingly raw! But, it was such a kind consolidation of the archaic with the sterile nouveau. After Manon and the I.M. Pei, I was put into a mild trance of Romantic grandeur ... something I am usually very fond of.
Alors, I think that's all for now.
"... you were the last high."
(the Dandy Warhols)
posted by Tri Luong at 12:55 AM
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