Just in the last month, MEXX, Smart Set and Futureshop have folded abruptly. I guess the pair of red cargo pants I bought at MEXX in 2005 are now a collector’s item.
French are epicurean, joyous pessimistic and self-conscious hedonist. North Americans, on the other hand, strive for perfection and constantly want to better themselves and those around them.
We are so desperate for spring that when the temperature climbs to 5°C, people are walking around wearing shorts.
I’m car watching the same way I would be people watching if I was sitting at the terrace of a busy café somewhere in Europe. Instead of checking out people’s shoes, I look at bumpers and plates.
I’m scared of normal stuff: people around me getting hurt, daycare centres going bankrupt, not making enough money, dying, not being a good enough mother, running out of time, my mother-in-law and forgetting important stuff. I’m not scared of monsters, so I’m a great monster exterminator.
There are only so many hours in the day and they are always booked by two main tasks—work and Mark. In between, a myriad of small duties, a series of minor events and a plethora of incidents will incapacitate me here and there, as if I was in a videogame.
Stereotypes can be used because it’s so damn convenient when unpredictable human beings fit into little boxes, properly labelled. They are broad generalizations, and they are sometime true. But as long as you don’t treat stereotypes as iron-clad laws that apply to every single person, I don’t see why we should pretend they don’t exist.
There was no party, no engagement period, no white dress—we did have rings but only because we bought them on the way to the ceremony.
We rarely truly pay attention to the various background sounds around us, yet they are part of our environment and clue us in constantly.
It is March Break and Mark’s daycare decided to organize fun activities throughout the week. It’s a great idea, except that tomorrow is “Beach Day”. And I must admit I’m struggling with the concept.
On a cold and snowy day of December, I probably scarred a toddler for life. “Oh no! Doing what?” “Using… the negative form. And an exclamation point.”
What’s relevant to me—and this is how I keep track of the years going by—is the sum of all the experiences, feelings and emotions that make up life and make us humans.
Back in 2010, I swore I would take my G test as soon as possible. I’m usually pretty organized and I hate do things last minute. Except that, well, Mark came in between. Five years went by fast. And also I have a driving test phobia.
I had missed relationships ending and new ones beginning, I had missed pendaisons de crémaillère in first apartments, I had missed months of eating store-brand pasta because the cost of living in Paris is higher than in Nantes, I had missed first jobs, driving licence exams, first rows of exams at university.
I’ve been dealing with human beings for almost 32 years now, and I’m pretty sure a conjunction is coming after the ellipsis. You know, like when a guy says “you’re very pretty…” or your manager starts with “great job on the project…”.