quelle heure est-il?

thelifeisforthosewhodream.tumblr.com

The concept, the idea of time is one that has been written about many, many times. It's been mulled over by poets such as T.S. Eliot in his wonderful Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock:

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons...

It has been immortalized in songs, such as Fly Like An Eagle, by Steve Miller Band:

Time keeps on slippin' slippin' slippin'
Into the future...

I guess that since time is quite an abstract concept, it would make sense that each country and each culture has a different idea of what it means. Perhaps the biggest adjustment to life in France so far has been getting used to its definition.

In some cases, I completely and wholeheartedly support how the French think of time as a precious and personal commodity. For example: school holidays, taking two hours for lunch, etc. Just the other day, some fellow professors of mine were speaking very passionately and rapidly in the staff room. When I asked someone to slow it down for me (ha!) and explain, it turns out that they were absolutely flabbergasted that the students would no longer be able to have their usual twenty minute recess between classes in the afternoon. Normally, the French middle school schedule includes two brief recesses (one in the morning, one in the afternoon), and a longer lunch. Due to an overcrowded cafeteria, lunchtime will now be extended for half an hour...but in doing so, the afternoon recess disappears. I mentioned that in the States, students in middle school typically get a little less than an hour's break in the middle of the day, and that's it. I can't even begin to tell you the looks of horror that I got. "But how do you learn, how do you concentrate?" A very valid point, my friends.

So yes, perhaps the French are on to something good with their concept of time. Perhaps. Because as much as I appreciate luxuriously long lunches, I do not appreciate waiting three weeks for a debit card. Nor do I appreciate the amount of time and paperwork it takes to become a legitimate citizen and worker in this country. Efficient, the system is not. If you want something important to be done, be prepared to wait a while. It's difficult to adjust to, especially coming from New York City, where everyone is always speeding through things and getting everything accomplished quickly. In New York, everyone is always goingoingoing.

I just finished reading Peter Mayle's A Year In Provence, and he, too, experienced the difficulty of dealing with the French and their fluid notion of time. For him, it was a source of frustration that his villa in Provence was in a constant state of disrepair, thanks to the various upgrades that had to be done. "Soon, soon" the workers all promised, but no one would give him specific dates. Mayle decided to distract himself with the warm sun, with good food, and with fabulous wine...

On that note, I'm off to Bordeaux.

a few thoughts on loneliness

just some storys on weheartit

For the most part, I like being alone. I know that sounds weird, but I do. And I like being alone more than most people do. It probably has something to do with the fact that I am an only child. I’m used to being by myself, with only my thoughts and imagination. I like the company I keep. As those alcohol advertisements ask, yes, I would have a drink with me.

I don’t, however, like being lonely. There is a difference.

Being alone means being comfortable with being by oneself. Being alone is generally a choice. I chose to go to the café by myself to have a coffee, I chose to go on a walk by myself to clear my head, I chose to spend the evening at home with my tea lights and Netflix and glass of wine. Sometimes being alone is also very, very necessary, especially after a long day at work. Being lonely…well, I guess you could say being lonely is a choice as well. I can choose to put myself out there and make friends, or not. I can control things like that. But sometimes—I can’t help it—it feels like I can’t control those things. Sometimes the fine line between being alone and being lonely gets blurred. All of a sudden, after a wonderful afternoon spent in the company of me, myself and I, it becomes nighttime. And nighttime is typically the loneliest of times.

As Matt & Kim sing, “In the daylight, anywhere feels like home.” Days, especially beautiful sunny days, are easy. There are plenty of things to do, plenty of places to go; days are full of distractions. Then cafés start shutting down, the sun begins to set. Everyone goes home, to their families, to their lovers and friends. I go home to an empty room and hang out with my good friend iTunes. Sometimes I lay in bed for hours, tossing and turning because all I wanted was to share a story or two with somebody, and maybe (just maybe!) get a smile and a hug.

As much as I like hanging out with myself, I think it’s time to see other people. I’m not breaking up with you; I just think we need to take a break. It’s not you, it’s me.

…What?