A Parliamentary Affair

A Parliamentary Affair

So I’m reading this book titled “A Parliamentary Affair” (along with Bill and Hillary’s autobiographies). I’m not too far into it, but the book is about The House of Commons. The first part describes, both from newcomers perspectives and from seasoned MPs, what being in Parliament is like. (It’s a novel, but surprisingly well written.)

It is hysterical! I was sure the book was really about the NH House. Everything… from the types of people to the childlike jokes to the feeling that, really, government is like grade school… even the different bars near the House. There’s one part that describes how no one takes notes up when the give speeches because if they start to read everyone will chant “Reader! Reader!” Sounds like something that could happen in NH… Anyway, I’m really enjoying the book for that reason. Glad to know NH has stuck to its roots. (Also, it made me miss the State House a lot. So strange what a different life I lead now.)

It is a beautiful morning in Corsica. A bit chilly, but beautiful. Everyone has been complaining about the weather, but as long as there is some sun and I can get outside, I’m happy with it. I have a whole summer of burning-hot weather to look forward to. I’m drinking coffee outrageously slowly… a terrible habit I’ve picked up in Greece. In the land of espressos and tiny cappuccinos this doesn’t work so well because the coffee is always cold by the time I get to the bottom. Why, of all habits, did I pick that one up? I also have this annoying habit of saying, or at least wanting to say, obnoxious things like “In Greece, we don’t HAVE this at grocery stores.” “In Greece, we never do this.” It kind of reminds me of an annoying school child visiting a friend’s house. “At MY house we never drink milk with dinner…” I guess I also do it the other way around because Alex always mocks me when I talk about America. “In A-meerr-eee-ka….” I’ll have to bite my tongue when I get back, because I’m sure no one cares about the cheese selection at Alpha Vita.

So I’m starting a new business. Sort of. I’ve decided that my current work in Athens for what works out to being a few Euros an hour will kill me if I stick with it for the summer. And I’ve had an impossible time finding teaching work in Corinth… (thanks Angeliki…) My only hope is getting some private lessons OR… this: I want to launch a web site (which I’ve already made) advertising my ability to make web sites. The pay, even in dollars, would mean that even if I got one web site a month to do (in addition to the work I’m already doing) I’d be absolutely set as far as money. Maybe I’d even be able to afford a new pair of sneakers. But who knows if it will work. There are billions of people out there advertising web site design. What I have going for me is: A) word of mouth and a link on current sites and B) I’m in an odd middle point when it comes to web site design. With 8 years experience I am far from amateur, but I’m certainly not a professional. This means, for much cheaper prices, I can do similar work to a professional (I’m emphasizing simply aesthetics, which is better for both search engine optimization and, at least in my opinion, generally). I’d also be able to offer much more personal service since I’m not exactly tied down to a real job. (By the way my coffee is now cold. Damnit.) So if any of you need a web site, or know anyone who needs one… let me know. I’m thinking my URL will be either elenawilson.com or lenkadesigns.com. I haven’t decided.

Okay, time for a run. Today I’m going to run on the roads because two days ago I managed to slice open my [wonderful, Nike-ipod, Layna] sneakers on a rock and grandpa had to glue them back together and now they look very scarred. Poor sneakers. They’re nearly worn away to nearly nothing but I really love them and plus, as I alluded to before, I can’t afford new sneakers just yet.

A Real Post

So let me attempt a real post here.

Last night we went to dinner at the house of some friends of my grandparents. It was a lovely dinner, with fresh fish and pasta and strawberries and cheese that reminded me how much I like French cheese. When we arrived a little dog came running up to us and I pet him and he licked my face and I sighed because I miss dogs. Then I went inside and two cats surrounded me and I pet one and she purred and I really truly almost started to cry. I'm not even sure exactly why... I guess I just really really miss animals. (Not including poor strays on the streets of Corinth.) And every time I take a walk around here I think "I wish I had my horse here." That was something I'm not sure I appreciated enough about my childhood. I took for granted the fact that I had my horse out back and could ride her whenever I wanted to. Now I realize how much it sucks to not have that when you're used to it. Lesson: appreciate your pets.

Anyway, life is good in Corsica. I spend my days playing outside, mostly. I hope my future life is full of periods of time when I can take off and spend my days playing outside. What I mean by that is I am terrified of a real 9-5... mostly because I won't be able to take a month off and come to Corsica . Really I think the Americans have it completely wrong when it comes to work. In Europe you get REAL TIME OFF. So you can actually vacation... actually spend some time in the sun or on the mountain or just relaxing. How could two or three weeks a year ever be enough? Console me, someone.

Also, I want a little Corsican child of my own. I realize this would mean I'd have to find a Corsican man which I'm not planning on doing (don't worry Alex, I'm sure a little Ukrainian/American is just as good!) but oh my Goddddd this little boy came with his grandparents to visit us earlier today and he was just so darned cute (insert your jokes Shannon, Erica and Abby). There is something really really adorable about foreign children. Perhaps I am just amazed at their ability to speak a language besides English.

I guess I don't have a wholleee lot to say... just relaxing a lot and working some... but I really need this break. Just to get my head together and try to figure out what's next... Of course every time I start thinking about that I convince myself that I should just wait until I get back to Greece before I start worrying... so chances are I will be no further in my life-plans when I get back to Greece... but at least I will be rested and cheery and ready to launch myself head-first into a hot Greek summer. Or part of a hot Greek summer.

Ah well. I'm kind of killing time waiting to see if Alex gets on Skype (Skype is amazing. Alex and I played tavli online against each other last night. Incredible!) but it doesn't look like he will. I hate having to rely on computers for communication but I have like 3 euros left on my Vodafone card and I'm not sure I can get one in France that will work. (I could in Italy but not in Turkey so who knows. Although I think my phone is picking up the signal from Vodafone Italy not Vodafone France.)

Cheers, loves.

The List

The only thing that is absolute

Is his touch

And the state of being he can summon

In the morning

With his warm breath steady on my neck

And the world in flux cannot

Identify

The right way or the wrong choice.

I ask myself questions,

Weigh opinions

As if the world is black and white

And I must choose my

Shade of grey

But even logic isn’t sure

And paradoxes

Still exist

Like decisions to question

And conclusions to not.

Corsica

Pardise. Yes.

Notes

I've been traveling and getting settled the last few days so I haven't had much time to blog... and I can't remember much I wanted to say except these things:
1. I like steak tartar (I'm sure it isn't written like that but that's how it sounds...)I don't even like cooked steak, but I like it raw. I tried a bite of it (thanks to Joanna's bravery)a few months ago, but I had more at a nice restaurant somewhere in the South of France and it was simply very good. I recommend it.
2. I miss the country. Being in Corsica (which is where I will be for the next three weeks) where I can breathe and play outside without ever running into a person is a freeing feeling. I miss that. It makes me miss home.
3. Taking off swimming pool covers is much more difficult than it looks.

That's all for now.

Corsican Path

The cliff's edge made passable
By man-made stone-carved steps
I walk them, then run, along the brink
Where She and humans met

Inhale the air of purity
The wind can sweep you up
A timeless place in short-lived times
I drink from Mother's cup

The path gets steep, the stones get rough
I stop here now, below the bluff

Afraid only of nature's wrath
And not the ones who tame her.

Avignon

We stopped in Avignon for the night and explored the city a little. It was beautiful. Fully walled and all the buildings were old. It reminded me a bit of Rome. All those squares Erica and I were perpetually lost in. Then we got dinner. Once again the waitress questioned my age. "Juene Fille" (spelling?) she called me. Young girl. She couldn't have been any older than me. Perhaps it is that I tend to be quiet when we order around here... due to my bad/non-existant French. Does that make me come off as much younger? The other night grandpa and I were telling Ellen's sister about how people keep questioning my age to drink (I think last night makes 4 times and I've been here 7 days) and we told her the drinking age in America and she got this horrified look on her face.
"But.. when can you vote?"
"18."
"But you can't vote and not be able to drink. Really? I don't believe it."

Neither do I, neither do I. Also, I think the drinking age in America has stunted my growth as far as ordering cocktails is concerned. I always end up ordering something I don't really like because I don't know the names of anything else. Or saying "I'll have what she's/he's having".

I must sign off now. We're heading out to a winery (you obvi. can never have enough wine) and then going to lunch and then boarding the mini-Titanic to Corsica.

A demain! Or the next day.