a million miles an hour

I have wrapped on the movie I was working on and I'm having a little trouble letting go of it all. 

For two years my life in London revolved around the ups and downs of the show. Now it's packed up and left for Toronto, like a circus packing up the big top and moving on to the next town.  

I am so happy I'm heading to Paris to live with D until April, but it's weird going from moving a million miles an hour to a full-stop in a single day.

I'm a bit dazed and out of it.  Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome?

the xmas torte!!!

cheer up!

As I was getting on the 27 bus on Hammersmith Road, heading in to work this morning, the busdriver said to me "cheer up, guv, it ain't that bad, is it?"

I had no idea I was looking so grim.  I was lost in thought as I swiped my Oyster card, glowering about whatever was on my mind (bloody gnomes!)  The stress must really be getting to me this week.  Ugh.

I laughed and immediately felt better and lighter, more myself.  It's good to laugh at yourself and remember not to take things too seriously.

30-40-50

This year D turns 30, E turns 40 and A turns 50...

2008 is a year of big transitions for my closest friends!

back to London

Going home after a weekend in Paris.  From the Marais to Gare du Nord, on to a Eurostar train, through the chunnel to St. Pancras.  Picadilly line to Hammersmith and home to Edith Road in West Kensington.  Never imagined this would be my bi-weekly commute.

"special ed"

Every now and then, D decides I am in need of a science lesson.  

It's true that my knowledge of science is rudimentary, but I have managed to get along fine so far without knowing the difference between DNA and RNA and a mitochondria and a mai tai. However, someone around here sees that as inadequate.  Holding a PhD in microbiology is all well and good, but it shouldn't inconvenience your partner.  Right?

Last weekend, D announced that it was "time for some science."  We were lying in bed reading at the time.  Out of nowhere the little professor had produced a notebook and a pen and he launched into genetics 101 -- DNA, RNA, bi-layered membranes, mitochondria & etc.  

While some people think I'm fairly sharp, D holds no such illusions.  He lectured me slowly and patiently, making cute little drawings of cells in his notebook.  This is how it must have felt in "special ed," which was what we used to call classes for retarded students.

We are different in so many ways, D & I.  And one is this:  while D is trying fathom the secrets of the human genome (and possibly cure cancer to boot!), I am working with a bunch of crazy animators on a cartoon about talking gnomes!

Madame Charlot

There is a good cafe at the top of the Rue Charlot and we like having our omelettes, hot chocolate and croissants there late on a Sunday morning, sitting by the window and watching the world go by.

Last Sunday, there was a fascinating old woman who came and sat out on the terrace.  She was wearing a fur-lined dress and feathery hat right out of the 1920s.  She had a little dog, a scruffy grey terrier, that sat on the chair opposite her.   She began to have an intense conversation with the dog.

On the table she placed a pack of cigarettes and a packet of small cigars.  She had two lighters:  one with a zebra-striped pattern, the other with leopard spots.  She had a ritual, only the zebra lighter could be used for the cigar.  She smoked her cigarettes (light by the leopard lighter) through a long black lacquer cigarette holder.

Everything she did, every gesture, every motion was theatrical.  She seemed like she was on stage, in costume, giving a performance.  We couldn't take our eyes off her.  

We named her Madame Charlot and spent the rest of breakfast wondering who the hell she was and what kind of life she had lead.   We wondered which of us would claim her as a character for a story or novel, but then we backed off.  Who would ever believe such a person was real?

weekend in L.A.

Made a lightning trip to L.A. this weekend.  Flew out of Heathrow on Friday afternoon and back from LAX on Sun evening.  I don't think I was on the ground more than 36 hours.

But I had to be there for the wedding of two good friends, partners for 20 years who were finally tying the knot.  It was a lovely event and I enjoyed catching up with old friends and colleagues from my last movie.  Wouldn't have missed it.

It was sunny and warm in L.A.  80 degrees!  Sitting out on the terrace of Mexicali in Studio City drinking margaritas in the sunshine felt great!  Coming from London where it is already winter, it felt even better.  

It's funny, I grew up in L.A. but I have never loved the city.  I always dreamed of moving away. Living in London, I haven't missed it.  My friends, yes.  But L.A., no.  This time back was different.  I actually felt a little nostalgic for the weather and the light, for sushi at Oomassa in little Tokyo and chicken tacos at Poquito Mas.   

Maybe I will finally come to appreciate my hometown at last!

Jeff Koons/Versailles

Saturday morning, we took the train to Versailles.  There is a Jeff Koons exhibit we want to check out.  I have been reading about the controversy of exhibiting Koons's work in the Palace at Versailles, one of the most treasured sites in all of France.  But, when you see it in person, it all kind of makes sense.

Jeff Koons is exactly the kind of artist Louis XIV would collect if he were around today!  The amount of shiny, expensive kitsch that the sun king amassed is quite impressive.  Koons work takes that concept to the next level.  Some of the placements of pieces was inspired.  The huge blue chrome balloon in the hall of mirrors, for example.  Or the giant pink balloon animal in the stately greeting hall.  So much of Koons's work is about reflectivity and looking at the setting bouncing off the polished surfaces.

The audacity of it all was almost breathtaking.  Who else could get away with creating a ten-toot tall porcelain statue of Michael Jackson and his pet chimp Bubbles?

planes, trains and automobiles...

Fridays are always murder on the show and I am usually fried by 6:00 pm.  

Last Friday I was ready for a relaxing journey to Paris, all set for the fast train out of St. Pancras.  Unfortunately, I wasn't traveling on Eurostar.  I had found a deal on Easyjet, a cheap flight to Paris from London Luton.

Luton turns out to be fairly remote (I think it is somewhere in Wales) so I left well ahead of my 7:00 pm flight time.  I got on the Picadilly line out of Hammersmith at 4:30.  Made pretty good time to Kings Cross where I switched onto a Midlands train after a 20 minute wait, and made my way out to Luton.  

This was a very slow commuter train and I started to get worried.  The train finally pulled into Luton Airport Parkway at 6:15 and I found the shuttle bus to the airport.  Of course, the bus broke down.  We switched to another bus which trudged uphill to the airport.  

Now it was 6:30 and I still had to clear security.  The woman checking passports took pity on me and let me jump the queue, scolding me for being so late.  After I got through the metal detectors, I sprinted to the gate...it was just closing.  6:40.  I was the last one on the plane.

The flight was a quick 50 mins.  But I still had 30 mins on the RER train to Gare Du Nord, 3 metro stops to Republique and a 10 min walk to Rue Charlot.  It took just about everything I had to make it up the five flights of rickety wooden stairs to our flat!

Ugh!  Never again.  It's Eurostar only from now on.

D was looking cute in his sweatpants and wife beater...and he even had on his sexy black jockstrap underneath.  He made me forgot about the planes, trains and automobiles pretty quick.

backstory

About two years ago I met a guy and fell in love with him.  At the same time, I was offered a job on a movie in London.  You have to understand...I have been trying for 15 years to find a way to live and work in Paris or London.  Here was my chance at last!

This guy was perfect -- smart, sexy, down to earth -- but he was just coming out of a five-year relationship and in the final push on his PhD.  We clicked immediately and I fell for him fast.  But at the time, I didn't know where I stood.  I was afraid I was a just his rebound guy.

I took the job and I expected us to break up.  But it turned out he was as into me as I was into him.  He applied for a fellowship in Paris.  We decided to try to and make a long-distance relationship work between L.A. and London.   We got through the first year, still in love, still together, but we were both miserable at being apart.

Then, he got the fellowship in Paris and moved the first of October.  Now we are commuting between London and Paris.   That's how it all happened...

PARIS ADDRESS BOOK

L'AS DU FALAFEL -- 34 rue des Rossiers, 4th.

Home of the best pita sandwich in the world.  My favorite is the grilled chicken which comes with crisp cabbage, eggplant, sesame hummus and their own special sauce (7 Euros).  Others love the falafel (5 Euros!).  There is always a wait for both the take away window and the restaurant, especially on Sunday when Parisians love to stroll and shop through the Marais.  But it is well worth the wait!

Closed on Sat.

LA FOUGASSE -- 25 rue de Bretagne, 3rd

Bakery/Pastery shop.  The best!

BREAKFAST IN AMERICA -- 4 rue Malher, 4th & 17 rue des Ecoles, 5th

Sometimes you just want an old fashioned American breakfast with pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon.  This is a classic American diner with red naugahyde booths, greasy burgers and a bottomless cup of joe.  Gets crowded with homesick yanks on weekend mornings.

PHO DONG HUONG -- 14 rue Louis Bonnet, 11th

Great Vietnamese place in the small Belleville Chinatown.  [There is another, larger Chinatown in the 13th.]  D is hooked on the Pho, I love their grilled pork with pickled garlic and mint.  The food is fresh and light and cheap.  Don't pay too much attention to the restaurant's decor tacky, nondescript decor, this is one of the best bargains in Paris!  

Closed on Tues.

CHEZ JANOU -- 2 rue Roger-Verlomme (at rue des Tournelles), 3rd

A favorite in the 3rd, close to the movie theaters at Bastille.  D is hooked on their ratatouille.  I like the lamb and the tuna provencal.  This is from a review from Frommers which sums the place up well:  "On one of the 17th-century streets behind place des Vosges, a pair of cramped but cozy dining rooms filled with memorabilia from Provence make this a loud and somewhat raucous bistro.  But the food will remind you of a visit to your french grandmother's kitchen -- dishes such as grilled sea bass with pesto, spinach salad with goat cheese, and a simple but savory magret of duck with rosemary."

www.chezjanou.com

DR. STEPHEN WILSON -- 54 rue des Archives 01-48-87-21-10

English speaking doctor.  Studied in the U.S.  Only charges 40 Euros for a consultation.  On the U.S. Embassy list of recommended English-language doctors.