bloody geriatric dickhead

oh, exquisite anger.

on my way home from the gym this morning, I was carefully entering the huge roundabout with my bike. and when I was right in the middle of it, this thickly bespectacled senior citizen closed in on me with his bumpy black vehicle. I was having right of way, but he kept driving. now, I have had my share of having right of way and endig up cut up in hospital, so I yelled at him. a little bit. I was wearing my sports jacket, and I was, well, looking young, you know. he, seeing that, started yelling and gesturing, as if I was the antichrist. but I was right, and he was wrong. and if one thing gets me really pissed off, then it's being right and being yelled at still. he raged about those youngsters, and how I was not allowed to drive there. at the next traffic light, angry me stopped beside his car and screamed at him. ever since the accident I do get really scared in traffic, it's been just too fucked up an episode. I tried to explain the traffic regulations to him, but he didn't even listen. in his senile brain, he had decided: young=punk=wrong, old=defiant=right. I was still yelling when I realised there were about 30 people around, watching me screaming at poor bespectacled granpa.

that was when I left.

but granpa does have many brothers and sisters in this city, and some of them are evil minded bastards, I gotta tell you. poking you with their umbrellas when you're using your cellphone, or blocking entire escalators (don't get me started).

they should be the wise ones, not me. but it's me who has to give way to geriatric dickhead. who didn't even look left.

asshole.

whoa!

not broke for the first time in, what, years. far from rich, but not alarmingly broke, either. this is how it happened: just got my vacation bonus, liquidated my stupid building savings agreement (I am an actor, an artist, a nomad!), and will receive my tax refund shortly. I need to remember this day, this feeling very well. it may not last. or come back. ever.

now, what to do with all these riches?

pay the dentist, pay the bills, pay for my summer in london.
and then: back to broke.

but at least I shall remember the feeling.
see? and with all the sense memory stuff going on, it will warm me through a cold, cold winter's nights in my nomad tent, too.

back home

after another night on that coach, this time with a class of dilly-dally teenagers (whose benevolent, yet blissfully ignorant teacher asked them by the minute if they needed to pee), I am back home. back to small streets and coffee I can spell, back to business and day to day routine, but with all new ambition and élan. still tired, I went to the gym and fought the innumerable tartes and quiches. I know I keep raving about the food, but it was just so good.

and at tonight's show, much to my discontent, I screwed up the intro to my last number. and then I couldn't stop thinking how stupid it is to still worry about that during the number, as that tends to draw your attention off the attempt to get at least the rest of the number right. and then I started worrying about that. during the number. and then- you get the picture. but what the hell, it's live theatre, and most of the audience didn't even notice. I just wish I could some day learn to let it go. see, I am really back home.

but with my belly full of new impressions, and my really cool paris jumper, and the realization that you can never tell how happy even a very broke ride on a polish coach can actually make you.

what a difference a day makes

once again, I find it true:
whenever you get the chance to get away from your everyday business, and may it be unreasonably short, and expensive, or even inconvenient- do it. you get so much more in return than you could ever imagine.

so much to see. passing by countless cafés and bars, I felt like a sponge, taking in all the faces and scents and sights. the little chinese girl behind her counter of take out cantonese food, the very elegant older madâme on the metro, the group of young actors outside some small theatre, with their sincere postures, clothed in neatly purposed sloppiness, their gitane in a corner of their mouths. I walked all the way from sacre coeur to the opera garnier and rested on the stairs. taking my own route through all the little streets, lesser populated and touristy than the big boulevards, I found a small indian store full of spices and jars and exciting scents, and bought a little bag of roses cristalisées for anne. later, I finally got to read my thoreau book, having another cafe créme at another bar. I haven't yet decided if I find that cheesy or awesome.

later, when anne was done shooting, we went to a french restaurant a friend had recommended. there was a sign on the door:
"real french cooking, no vegetarian food."
we felt we had found the perfect place, hidden from the big streets, offering genuine french cuisine. naturally, our mere presence destroyed the exquisit non-touristy atmosphere, but that is the burden the travelling have to shoulder whenever they set foot outside their own home.
the food was superb. I tried my very first foie gras, and gras it was- my tastebuds died in shock, I guess, it was so good. a bottle of bordeaux later (for the constant readers: it definitely was a bottle of the good kind), we walked up to sacre coeur again and enjoyed the view over paris.

and right now, we are having breakfast in bed, and yet again I shall have to decide between romantic and cheesy.

it's too beautiful, though.

paris

thanks to yoga I did not die on the bus last night. it was not the "comfortable sleepliner" the prospectus had promised, it was a polish coach with seats that usually make your back hurt just going downtown. but what is that compared to this city. to admit the most touristy thing right in the beginning: we had cafe créme at the brasserie des 2 moulins, where they shot that amelie movie. I would never have gone there on purpose, it is just next to the hotel. really. now, I have been to paris before, I have seen the sights, I don't need to do that again. that's why I chucked my map in the bin and just went outside. anne is shooting right now, and I have had quite my share of tartes and quiches and fromage and wine, and it is just great.

guess I'll walk up to sacre coeur and buy my beloved tobacco.

savoir vivre.

au revoir

well, the last week has been quite rough, and I am tired of chopping up my day into ten minute units to just attempt to cope. no sleep, no time for nothing. and every day held another big crazy thing for me, and no way to escape. except for calling in sick, but I better not start that in the first place.

but the week is over, I got everything done alright. just last night I realized I need to get away from all of this rather quickly, as a friend asked me if I wanted to have a barbecue with him and some colleagues, and I almost hit him. I really don't want to have that barbecue. time out, please.

that is why I took the last tiny remainder of my money and bought a ticket to paris. I know that's wonderfully irrational, paris is big and loud and humid, I should have gone to the woods to live deliberately.

but ever since I came back from Inge's funeral, I feel so angry about the fact that even the best of us end up gone. and no one knows when. and so many things remain left undone.

well, and now I can take running off to paris with unreasonably little money off my list.

Vous voir le mercredi prochain, amis. au revoir.

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if more people refer to my blog, more people will read it.

actually, this is a classic catch 22.

why, oh, why

you are walking. quietly, all by yourself, downtown. it is late, you have done your day's share of good work, and you are tired. just then, you happen to walk by this restaurant, and there they sit. three or four people you kind of know, and you really really really do not want to talk to them right now. or tomorrow. or next month. but least right now. and you are pretty sure they'd be fine with you not wanting to talk, they look like they are having an ok time just so. hey, they've seen you. now, what you should do is politely say "hey" and keep on walking. but you feel this might be rude, and they might, don't know, like you less?

"hey, 's'that beer you're havin' there? nice."

now you have done it. you all know no good is going to come from this, and the conversation is doomed in the first place.

"yeah, beer, what are you up to?"
"nothing much, just finished work. so much to get done today."
"tell us about it."
"yeah. bummer."
"right."

as you knew before, you had absolutely nothing to share with these people, not now, and probably not ever. and they knew that, too. but now you're standing there. awkward silence, and you're too tired to come up with anything funny. and you don't really care. just the silence is damn awkward.

"yeah, the beer any good?
"sure, nice'n cold."
"the only thing to keep you sane with this weather, right?

great, now you are on the weather.

"alrighty then, gotta run"
"yeah, great, right."
"I will, like, see you guys around!"
"take care."

and take care you should. don't stop. you will be much cooler just passing by, uttering that quick hey and not looking back. it's not worth it.

I'm telling you, I have not passed by a million times.

I'm not cool sometimes.

notification

no time to blog, real life kicked in.
so much to get through with.
laters.

für inge

No coward soul is mine

No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear

0 God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

Though Earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee

There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Thou - thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.


Emily Brontë (January 2nd, 1846)

today's conclusion

I' ve decided I need to do more sports.

dammit.

smooth

phoenix make my summer. yay.

watch out: rotary audience. valium?

last night, we had to play for a group of snotty rich assholes. and as the audience is so close to us in this production, we could hear every single word they said. and they commented all the time. rude. not funny. fucking personal. like a bunch of yobs on a class trip. I was so distracted that I couldn't even decide what made me angrier: the fact that they showed absolutely no respect for what we were trying to do, or the fact that I let them get to me. I tell you, something like this makes you so feel cheap. it sucks. we all reacted quite strongly to them, so a lot of frail scenery doors were slammed, and the angry scenes worked effortlessly. the whole time I couldn't help but think: "what the hell, I know the play, I am not doing this for myself. and if you don't care one tiny little bit, why did you come and buy the whole show, anyway? just to show us you could? fucking bullies!".

and in the end, they presented us with flowers, telling us how amazingly wonderful they had found the evening. how would they know? they hadn't even listened. none of us wanted the bloody bouquets, but still, we smiled politely and accepted gratefully. I gave mine to the set decorator later.

she is nice.

w e e k e n d

it is done.

the opening went fine, people were delighted, review's good (not that it mattered, but yeah), and the weekend has come. I am so tired, but overjoyed to have some time to hang and de-mess my kitchen. in retrospect, it seems the fun parts are absolutely outweighing the work and doubt parts, and that's good. and I am just realizing how much I am in need for a break. and once my kitchen is nice and shiny again, I will take my time and prepare a meal for the first time in weeks. joyful, joyful.