Back from Paris!
Well, I am back from Paris… it was simply the best trip possible. I rented an apartment from www.feelparis.com in the heart of the city. I met up with people from all over the world. I danced, I ate, I drank, I saw… I even kicked a hotel where my friend’s husband brought his mistress. Yes, the trip had a little bit of everything.
As a bit of an unusual twist on the blog, I am adding a little short essay I wrote about the trip. It isn’t 100% true – ie. people knew I was away, he didn’t cheat on me, he just broke up with me and there was no hat. Enjoy.
“Yes, and that is why people from all over the world come to see her,” I overheard, a black-haired guide speaking in French. “People want to know that true beauty in a woman is not about having everything put together perfectly. Beauty is spontaneous… a kind of imperfect perfection.”
I looked at the statue of Venus de Milo – she is imperfect by today’s standards, that is for sure. She looks like the way my body looks like after the winter, when I have been eating a lot of chocolate and drive-thru, working too much, sitting at my desk too much and going to the gym not enough… and my stomach sticks out over the top of my jeans. “Muffin top” is what my friend Tori calls that little piece of fat which Venus would have if she wore jeans. The statue’s hair is not too stylish either in its stringy pony-tail. Yet people from around the world come and see her – because she is beautiful.
I walk alone through the hallways of Paris’s the Louvre, wearing a sweatshirt, a too-big coat and baggy jeans. No, I didn’t want to stand out here. I could not let anyone know that I was thousands of miles away from anyone that loved me… and that no one knew that I was there. That I ran away from my life. A friend of mine from highschool once ran away from home, and she said that the first rule of running away is that you cannot share that fact with anyone – people are more likely to take advantage of you when you have no one nearby that cares for you.
“Well, maybe in the place where she is from, that hairstyle is cool?” said a woman in Japanese. I turned around to see her – she was wearing tight jeans, pointy boots and a shiny purse that likely cost thousands of dollars. She and her friend burst out in laughter. I realized that they were looking at me and talking about my messy chignon. I touched my hair self-consciously.
“Excuse me…” said a young Japanese man with thick black glasses and a scrappy little beard in faltering, hesitant English. “Could you take a photo?” After saying “sure, no problem,” I noticed that he was posing with those two cats who were making fun of me!!!
“Yes,” I responded in Japanese – with all the confidence I could muster. “I want to see all of your beautiful smiles – say cheese!” The girls looked surprised and very ashamed. How could they have guessed that I was an exchange student for two years in Tokyo? “Now…” I said gesturing at my head, “maybe you guys can give me some hairstyling advice – I know – it is so terrible!” They all laughed loudly – and complimented me on my Japanese language skills.
The four of us ended up going for dinner than to drinks together. On the way, the girls suggested that maybe the best solution for my hair troubles was to buy a hat – so I got a big white floppy one. “You look so pretty in your hat. You are a beautiful woman!” said one of them. “Why are you here in Paris by yourself – you should have a boyfriend!”
I told them that I had a boyfriend until few weeks ago. I caught him cheating on me with his ex-wife. The trip was my way of escaping my life. I felt like my life was becoming a monument to my sadness and to what had been lost. I wanted to see other monuments instead – to beauty, to freedom, to happiness. I didn’t say that last part in Japanese though, since I don’t know how to say monument, and I think these guys were too young and sweet to get it.
“Alone in the city of love – it is so sad,” said one of the girls.
“But, no – somehow right now, I feel not sad for the first time in months.” I switched to English “I feel better now – just hanging out with you guys – practicing French and Japanese and being interested in my own life. It is not quite the life I dreamed of – but it is imperfect and beautiful – like the statue where we met…” They smiled.
That’s great Stef – glad you had a good time.
Hey Stef,
Great Post. I really liked the way you linked ‘imperfection and beauty’ of statue with your life. I like reading a bit ‘intellectual’ posts so really enjoyed this of yours.
Will bookmark ya. Regarding personal life, there should be some problems to enjoy good things properly.
Njoy
Fantastic story about how one finds joy in the purity of beauty and the tenderness of others.
Thanks to all! Ashish – you are right – in the face of problems you can choose to be a seeker. Though – sometimes it isn’t exactly easy to make that choice
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Marty – it is true – sometimes tenderness from others can come from the most unexpected places.
This little vignette seems to be taken right out of Susan Pinker’s book…
Epicura, that is interesting. I guess the part of me dealing with gender discrimination in my early career and realizing the best way to use my analytical and creative talents would be starting my own business wouldn’t make the cut though hey? Because gender discrimination in non-traditional fields apparently doesn’t exist anymore according to Pinker.
“I caught him cheating on me with his ex-wife.”
Sucker. You attracted it.
Um, you didn’t read the rest of the post, where I explain that it was fiction:
“he didn’t cheat on me, we just broke up”
Hmm… You seem awfully obsessed with the superficial (clothing, weight, hairstyle) and how others perceive you. Or am I reading too much in between the lines?
You do realize that there is no “in here” and “out there”? That it doesn’t really matter what “they” think about you, because “they” aren’t really thinking about you, except for what you think about them.
And while the part about the boyfriend cheating on you was made up, was the part where you were running away from the sadness in your life made up as well? Wouldn’t it be better if instead you went to Paris to run toward a new phase in your life?
Just a thought.
Rumer – I think that obsessed is an exaggeration – but I would say that it is something that concerns me. I, like all beings, am flawed… and I think good writing is the kind that confesses and exposes those flaws at times. When I read things by people about issues I have overcome (such as a certain kind of relationship) I can remember and sympathize). When I read about something that I have not encountered in my own life (such as drug addiction) it helps me understand others and build compassion for their issues.
If you don’t have these flaws – congratulations – you get a balloon! For me, I think it is okay to publicly discuss this stuff – in fact I have gotten a lot of positive feedback from women and men about this story.
The Paris trip was about my new life as well – but letting go of the old one is the first step to moving on to the new one. It does give me an idea for the next story – thanks
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