rose coloured paris

the air smelled clean and clear, though the rain was wet and squishy under her feet. by the end of the weekend, her new black boots would be ruined. but she hoped she would have some insight into the wonders of paris, the sights and the sounds.
the wine and the pommes frites, the crepes with nutella, all of it would become part of her memory of paris. her visits to the shiny city were a decade apart and the events never overlapped. croissants and hot tea, hot chocolate and parisienne crusty bread along the seine. riding the elevator to la tour eiffel, and walking up the side of montmartre.
the engagement, the wedding, the movies, the laundromat. more wine and cheese. round pillows, old black and white movies in french.



~the end~

favourite words

earlier i was thinking about some of my favourite words. and that when i read books i will stop to look up a word and then try to use it. i'm a word hag i know...but i love words and writing!!
there's a save the word challenge...and that made me think even more about my favourite words. i mentioned it on twitter and people just replied with words that they used often.
i meant cool words, amazing words, words that speak to you!

fascinating words like -- nadir, juxtaposition, lugubrious, precipice, loquacious, salacious, hubris
~the end~

picture it

"do you remember me," his blue eyes implored her.
"well, yes i do," she sniffed a laugh and wondered why he thought she wouldn't.
"i was there too, and it was quite memorable," she thought. she wanted to say that aloud. but of course she wouldn't. she wasn't that sure how to proceed with him. he was still looking at her, as though he wanted to say something more. but maybe she was supposed to say something more. she just wasn't sure.
she longed to say to him, "take me to that room again, make me feel that way again. talk to me and then tell me more, but don't tell me about her, i just can't bear to hear it," but of course she wouldn't.
not yet.

  ~the end~

winding up...

i've found it difficult to write the last few days. using the photo as a prompt helped a bit but the actual writing of the text only works if i sit down and type it out! i write a lot more in my head than ever makes it to the page. and even writing on my ipod hasn't helped since it never flows properly.

i am happy to feel calm again. even when the kids were wild last night, i was relaxed. i like sitting in this room to write, i will be happier when the menchildren clear off the old computer and i have more space. but for now, it works quite nicely. i have photos in view, flowers and a nice neat area! :-)

attempts to finish the book this weekend have failed. i ended up playing online instead.  which means that i either do not want to read, can't be bothered to read, or am not that interested in the book.

perhaps if i set aside a portion of each day to actually WRITE and/or read. an hour? just free writing would be helpful. on any one topic or photo prompt. posting it to the blog is not necessary.

i like and don't like that i have no audience with this blog. it allows me to say more or less than i want. no feedback is good and bad as well. years ago when i blogged more regularly and actually participated in the blogging world, i felt far too attached and obligated to reply to my friends' posts. and then i lost the real reason for the writing and blogging, to share a bit or me that i am unable to share with anyone in my real world.

a friend mentioned to me just the other day that she doesn't share enough with her spouse, family or friends. and that because of this, she feels her life is suffering. she said she needs to reveal her soft side more often. whereas i feel that i reveal my soft side far too often and am figuratively smacked for it a lot more than i ought to be. so i have reined in my "soft side" and she yearns to let hers out. she and i have much in common, but in different ways. i still think that my own best friend is myself. the only one who understands me is me. no one else truly has ever gotten me and i know i will never have one true best friend. just lots of friends who know just that small portion about me. one friend for sharing musical likes, another for sharing books, another for mommying, another for cooking, another who gets the history and logistics of my life and so on. some of those friends overlap, some even know one another. but not one of them knows me completely. i hide bits of myself from each of them. do any of them really want to know all about me? do i want to know all about each of them? would that make us too much?

 ~the end~