horror film.

"The Haunting of A Past Boyfriend"

oh, it's just a movie that's been chasing me and playing in my face every month for the last three years of my life.

and apparently will not stop until i freaking die.

it's coming to a theater near you.

literally, the movie will stalk down your address like a creep and write you a butt-long letter that you'd rather die than read.

and there's no remote control powerful enough to shut the freaking thing down because it never dies.

it insists of replaying the same message over and over and over.

here's a hint:

when i don't answer you, i don't love you.

you're endlessly working towards an empty cause.

and your memory is crap.

leave me the freak alone.

gosh, i wanna scream and run away at the same time.

daylight savings bitterness/soggy tacos.

[i would rather hold my breath for about a minute than lose a stupid hour of sleep to daylight savings. also, i miss my california summer with my girls too much.]

today is daylight savings.

let me just tell you that i do not, nor will i ever, understand this concept.

why are we all just pretending it's an hour earlier or later twice a year??

it makes no sense!

just so we can get in some extra daylight time? uhhh, okay?

let's just lie and bend the rules of time and the laws of gravity and change our clocks.

freaking sickos.

i'll always know the truth.

arizona and whatever the other state is are the coolest states for dgafing and being honest and keeping it real and not defying gravity and time and all that crap.

i'm just sayin'.....

eureka for europa posts that are oh, so late, but i oh, don't mind.

november 2, 2011.

art history class with bernie.

we went to the musee d'orsay [musee=museum in french. i'll never forget how bernie would pronounce "museum" like "musayum" because that's how "musee" is pronounced....moving on..] to look at works like monet [one of my favorites], cezanne, and courbet.

the cool part about this museum is that it used to be a train station and then was turned into a museum, so the actual building itself is freaking rad.

or maybe i'm just a dork and get excited about architecture after studying it so much here [in paris, not provo].

 [snappin' quick pics of the ceiling....who knew that in museums you'd want to take a picture of the actual building and not just the art? okay, that was a dorky question, forgive me.]

 [gooorgeous.]

[umm, can i have this frame? i'm serious.]

there were some good pieces, and then some not so good ones.

but i guess that's what you get when you're dealing with art. 

sometimes you have to stand in front of a picture of a lady's naked crotch and stare anywhere else and want to be dead while your teacher critiques it.

literally, i'm not kidding.

revolting.

anywaaays,

after class, a group of us decide we want some good ol' rice and beans.

and when we get there, i decide to do the unthinkable.

get tacos instead of my beloved el super burrito.

now that i'm thinking about it, i have no idea why i wanted to veer away from something so delicious, because i was about to eat the crappy meal from heck.

okay, i'm being a little dramatic. the tacos weren't horrible. but they were definitely no el super and were all liquid-y and that never goes well with me.

[okay, i know what you're thinking, why am i being so dramatic? they look fine, right? well yeah, it's not like i'm eating dog crap. they are edible. and they weren't terrible, but i definitely regretted getting them, and that always annoys me. also, i apologize for the blurriness of the picture, i was crying. not really. my camera was acting up or something.]

i didn't even get to actually get the tacos i wanted because they were out of all good kinds of meat aka chorizo and chicken and steak. so basically, pork it was. and i would've traded my left thumb to have been able to eat the beautiful el superrr instead of that watery, soggy mess of a plate.

after that, me and tiff slinked away to do some shopping on rue st. honore, which is over by the tuileries. it's basically the rodeo drive of paris. i mean, it's got all this fancy shopping and it's where a lot of celebrities shop when they come to paris because it's right by the ritz hotel. 

super fancy and super fun.

i may or may not have pretended like i was super posh and rich [you know, with my jeans and sweater on].

and we may or may not have gone to the longchamp store...

[i understand that you're jealous of the quality of my pictures. it's okay. i'll give you a tutorial on how to take the most blurry and out of focus pictures ever. here's a tip: never stop moving.]

alright, guess i'll get back to living a lie of a life.

but guess what everybody?

it's really almost 1:00, not 2:00 right now.

yeahh i said it, do something about it.

[like change back the clocks please? alright, i give.]

nostalgic.

songs and clothes have such strong, vivid memories for me.

i attach instances in my life with when i wore certain pieces of clothing, or listened to certain songs on a specific occasion.

not with my whole wardrobe or playlist, but enough to have a handful of really good memories that get to be replayed in my mind every once in awhile when i am reminded and inspired by bringing back the music or the outfit.

putting on this shirt and getting ready, my music was on shuffle.

and my favorite song, clair de lune, came on.

i have memories of walking around the orangerie museum on a cold and rainy day in paris.

my favorite kind of day.

it was actually my last day in the city, and i had wanted to see the museum before i left so i made the trek over there from hotel de ville.

i had about a million bags full of clothes and souvenirs and food that i had bought that morning, and i literally had to rent one of those crates with wheels from the museum to fit all my stuff in it.

definitely embarrassing. definitely represented america well there.

i stood in the monet exhibit room for a good thirty minutes listening to clair de lune over and over and just stared.

something about that song makes me wanna just melt. and sit. it's like one of those really hot days in arizona where you're sitting in the car after church and the heat is radiating through you.

and you're paralyzed.
it just stops you.
but it a really good, calm way.

i sat in the exhibit, looking at pictures full of blues and purples and greens all swirling together.

and i was wearing this shirt too.
i remember feeling like an art student because i had used my art card to get in, and i looked so grungy and dirty [no offense].

[umm, it might have been like two weeks dirty, and with about a million other random layers on as well. you're welcome for that info.]

 i remember really wanting to cry after awhile.

something about the song and leaving the loveliest city the next morning all coming at me.
i felt so overwhelmed and sad for my three months in paris to already be over.
i wanted to burst.
to already be expected to go back to america and leave my france.
i hadn't even learned french all the way.
or went inside the rodin museum.
or tried the potato salad by sacre coeur.
there was so much rushing to me that i never got to do.

later that day, i walked over to the eiffel tower to "say goodbye".
still beautiful and gray and rainy everywhere.
looking at it, i knew for a fact that i was coming back again sometime in my lifetime.
there was just no way i couldn't.
and after i realized that, the heavy, rushing feelings left me.

and cliche-ically [that's a word] enough, i was content. happy. calm.

i smiled at le tour eiffel and i left.

mmmmm. i so miss you, paris.