Aunt Suzanne and Cousin Jack arrived yesterday! they're staying in the apartment off the ramparts that Bert stayed in his first three months, it's lovely with a sliver of sea view from the bedroom window. we've successfully located a steady supply of pommes frites for Jack at our favorite cafe, Cameo as well as our regular pizzeria, Da Cito where we'll all be having dinner together tonight. i was house/dog sitting today (last of four day stint), so was unable to join in on today's outings..Bert and Jack to AntibesLand (a waterpark, Jack saw the billboards on the ride from the airport) and Mom and Suzanne to the casino.
gee, sorry i had to miss those.
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i have decided that the clean, un-marred bikini line is a feat i am incapable of achieving, a test of my womanhood and sexiness that i have failed miserably. (how did those poor indian, um, native american boys feel when they returned from the right of passage hunt empty-handed? less native american?)
shave, wax, depil cream; all the same results: horrible red rash, bumps; in effect a sort of creeping crotch-rot look. and painful. treatment(?): tea tree cream, aka: diaper rash cream. looking of third world disease and smelling of nappy? most certainly NOT sexy. -
someone asked, so here is the answer:
step one, and indeed, most important: have well-divorced mother who moves to france first two years prior (presumably to get away from grown-yet-still-needy children)
2) have terribly downward spiraling job for business about to go under at any moment
3) have no other job prospects in current town of residence
4) have no other prospects of any kind to speak of, do not have college degree of any sort
5) have no husband, boyfriend or other attachments (aside from assorted like-wise situated girl friends of that going-to-be-thirty-this-year sort)
6) get cancer. this is key, as loads of sympathy entailed. turns otherwise stoic, distant mother into weepy blubbering mush-monster
7) scrape together enough dough, just enough and no extra mind you, for a visit to said mother in such sorry state for 'rejuvinating' post-cancer-surgery visit.
8) blather on to mother (she in drunken state) about life long dream of returning to painting, living in france, refer to long forgotten childhood french lessons and multiple pathetic attemps to attend art school
9) sit back in amazement as mother offers to put you (and your dog!) up for one year in her little place on the riveria! and marvel at how she still thinks it was her idea!
10) promise whatever higher power you believe in at the moment that if this crazy idea works out, you'll never tell that horrible 'how my mother wrecked christmas '82" story again. -
i made my younger brother happy today.
i also wrote a letter to my grandparents. and took care of someone else's dog (which included mixing special creamed meals). and played with another person's baby. and set the dinner table without being asked.
i am a saint. -
after reading an article in Vanity Fair (which i read AFTER the New Yorker, i swear) on the Lilly Pulitzer story, mom and i are keen on getting some of the back-again lightweight, jazzy bright dresses for ourselves. only there isn't a retailer here. no one sells those adorable hot-weather, bright printed cotton dresses anywhere on the Riviera?! hmm….wheels turning…
they remind me both of Marimekko (same concept, same time, other side of planet) and the Florence Eismann (memory of mom digging in bins at annual warehouse sale) dresses of my childhood… -
mom enjoys lunch with the ladies (International Women of the Riveria) at La Chateau de La Napoule
Corner; watercolor, graphite and oil pastel on paper, 9" x 16" -
we had to hang our heads in shame at our favorite sandwich stand the other day as a gaggle of bikini-clad American cheerleader-type teenage girls (has anything more cringe-worthy ever been created?) nearly assaulted our beloved Madame Sandwiche (no relation to Madame Poulet). no Bonjours, no pleases or thank yous, not even in English. imagine overly loud voices, grabby hands, and a complete lack of manners:
"like, can i like see that?" "SEE it, you know like SEE it?" "what is that, like chicken?" "is that like tuna or something?" "gross" "no, i don't want it now, it's got like, too many calories" "yeah, like let's go somewhere else" "yeah, totally"
i thought Madame was going to throw a baguette at their sunglassed-orthodentisted-Avedaed-ipoded heads. i would have applauded. -
indeed, step one was a bear afterall…after the initial numbness wore off, it feels as if my gums were peeled away from my teeth (oh, right, they were!) and the roof of my mouth now most closely resembles raw hamburger meat. trust me, the roots of your front teeth exposed is something you never want to see.
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just returned from the dentist…step one of five done. he's fixing that problem i've had with the six front teeth that were veneered 13 years ago in some sort of composite that was prompty discontinued because it failed quickly and discolored beyond repair, not to mention that mine were done way to thickly, nearly gave me a lisp. typical of my luck. i've had quotes over the years that ranged from moderately insane to as much as i paid for my first new car. luckily this time, he's very good, and very reasonably priced. even with airfare, it's a tenth of the price to have your teeth fixed in france!
step one wasn't too bad…preparing the gums..basically, cutting them back so that he can get to the whole surface of the tooth for step two next Tuesday, which sounds gruesome…grinding away all the old composite. and leaving it that way for a week! sorry, i am not posting pictures of that! -
Gorges du Verdon, lac Esparon (Verdon Canyon, Lake Esparon)
i went canoeing (or kayaking if you are british) today! don't laugh out loud please. seriously, i got in a little canoe with two other gals (Rachael and Vicky) and two dogs (Ruby and Napoleon) and rowed down a river. without tipping the canoe, screaming bloody murder or fussing about wet hair. really, i did.
