Paranormal Activity

Go see it...

In the daytime.

And if first person camera films make you a little woozy, take something for that. It's not as bad as Cloverfield or Blair Witch though.

I'm now going to sleep with the lights on.

xoxo

Emma

Stormy Weather

On a day no different than today, about 6 months ago, Lizzie and I were on our way to Versailles. We were on a train that was leaving Paris and whizzing towards a destination about 40 minutes out from Notre Dame. The weather was gloomy while we waited on the platform. Due to my (horrible) Metro map reading skills, we went the opposite direction for about 5 minutes, waited at a station for about 10 more minutes before we were finally headed in the correct direction.

While the trip itself was ordinary, the experience was extrordinary. The Metro is nothing like the London Tube station. Just a day before we had left transit that was glowing white with cleanliness, a friendly voice that reminded us to "Mind the Gap", doors that opened on their own and polite hushed conversation that added a gentle hum to the travels. One of the things that stood out to me was the number of people that read on the train. I love the sounds of people reading the paper, the crinkle of the information was comforting to me. Granted, free dailies were given at the entrances of the Tube, but it was news nonetheless... and it was awesome to see people reading.

The Metro is a completely different animal. The rail cars weren't all new. They were dingy and rickity. I encountered a newer train on my trip back from Pere Lachaisse. That was about it. The train to Versaille was a 2 story train. Urban, musty odor.... all the things that were opposite of the London tube. There were a variety of beggars on the train. The most memorable of these was the accordion player. Ahh... the accordion. I am a sucker for the squeeze box (yes... I know how bad this reads!) This accordion player was like no other I had heard. I swooned at the music as it filled the car with joy and Parisian love. I tipped that man. Oh yes.. I threw Euro in his hat as a thank you for the audible memory.

The rain started mid-way to our destination. Falling slowly at first and turning into a full monsoon when we stepped foot on the Versailles platform. We had no real choice but to walk the half mile or so to the Palais.

It was a biting rain. Stinging my face with needles, soaking my jeans, my boots and numbing my hands. I chose that day to look my best... and it melted away in the monsoon. It knocked me down a couple pegs. Here's a link where you can see a horrible picture of me looking like a sullen Emo kid with her hair all soaking wet. My pant legs sopping and my only dry part was where my jacket covered me. Basically, from my knees down and from my neck, up.

I wouldn't trade it for anything, though. It was France and I was not at work. I was on paid vacation and there were people working. I was using my elementary French... and people did not understand... or at least, they were polite about not understanding me.

My goals in life are simple. In the grand scheme of things those help me to shape my life through rich experiences. This may or may not be common knowledge, but during my trip to Europe, I cried a lot. In fact, I cried more than once a day. This wasn't for being sad, but more because I was so overwhelmed by my girlie feelings, that they expressed themselves in ocular leaking. I was so grateful for the chance to live my dream that I felt so happy every day.

So the monsoon rain today, doesn't get me down. It's a happy reminder of the dream that came true.

xoxo
Emma