under slept

if someone could explain to me why, oh why, i have been waking up exhausted

during the week i have off,

that would be lovely.

apparently it is true, what they say

you cannot catch up on sleep.

sleepless nights are here and gone.

and once they are gone, they are impossible to retrieve.

damn.

i was kind of banking on that whole "i'll catch up later" speel.

instead, during this week away from school,

where i had all the time, well some of the time,

to sleep to my hearts content.

i didn't.

last night, i was sure i would collaspe from exhaustion and fall into a nice coma.

nope.

i rode out a caffeine high until 2 am.

maybe i'll get this right some day. but probably not.

my week, according to instagram and youtube:

i also watched these charming french films:

sorry...no subtitles for the second one. you will just have to trust me, it was lovely!

remember?

it seems like it was not long ago
but, then again, it was.

two people, somewhere between children and adults.

the light was lovely.
flickering, maybe.
or maybe, that was just her heart.

she was talking, fast.
she always spoke fast.
she couldn't stop it.
some people might plague it as a nervous tick.
but she was never really nervous at all.

she was so caught up that she almost did not realize
he was staring right into her eyes, focused.
not focused on her words. but focused on her.
and before she could question him,
he said it.

you're so beautiful.

and then, she was silent.

and, so, it is true

to follow, some things i may or may not be proud of.

nonetheless, it is a story.

it is my story.

and, so, i have to own it.

there will come a time when i will look back at this time in my life

and laugh. hysterically.

i will wonder what i was thinking and why i thought this path, out of all the paths, was the right one.

that, however, will be in the future.

right now i find myself knee-deep in french phrases

all muddled, all unclear, all forged

trying to write a term paper on french film criticism.

and if it was not obvious enough, i am an anglophone.

my stance as an anglophone has never mattered to me.

yes, i speak english. it is my mother tongue. so what?

there were all other labels that meant more to me

woman

friend

sister

yogi

but, now, quite suddenly, i have to recognize myself as anglophone.

this recognition has come awkwardly.

i still don't really know what it means.

i just know that other people know this about me the minute i speak.

it makes me wonder if i should speak.

and, yet, i do.

and, so, the confessions of an anglophone learning french in one maniac-esque year:

it is a good day if i remember to shower

it is a really good day if i brush my hair

matching socks are minuscule

action movies do not make more sense in french

woody allen is some sort of film god and one should never critique his films

snacks make the world go round

you will feel ancient when you realize that pluto is no longer a planet.

then you will be slightly tickled when you realize you can use the phrase "back in my day...when pluto was a planet..."

drinking wine for breakfast is acceptable

cupcakes are medicine

coma's help

dreaming in french is a good sign

waking up at 4 am to complete homework is also acceptable.

and so i wait.

wait for the moment when i can laugh at myself. and then - hopefully - mutter something brilliant en français.

brillance...

read this.

absorb.

because i have no words

"Time is tricky. You have whole months, even years, when nothing changes a speck, when you don't go anywhere or do anything or think one new thought. And then you can get hit with a day or an hour, or half a second, when so much happens, it's almost like you are born all over again into some brand-new person you for damn sure never expected to meet."

E.R. Frank

savouring

i have come to appreciate many things in my time.

and, especially, these past couple months

due to my hectic schedule.

i have to appreciate these things while i can.

things like a cats purr

a warm cup of tea

a (non-french) book

music

my running shoes

the sunlight

fresh air

and my yoga practice.

i have been savouring my yoga time lately.

probably because i spend most of my days sitting around listening, studying, or writing

so when i finally get to move, it is a beautiful thing.

i make my down dogs extra wide

so i can feel my spine and calves stretch.

i focus on areas of tightness in my body

and send my inhales to those area

and push out the tension with my exhales.

i find my physical limits.

i spend all day finding my mental limits

and believe moi, i find them.

so, really, there is nothing better than finding a little spot of sunlight

unrolling my mat

and sweating and stretching away some stress.

however.

if i could mix a kitty in to the mix, i would be content: