We had understood on Sunday that at the Cinephiles stand invitation to certain special screenings were to be collected for free every morning. But because I was on holiday I did not really feel like getting up that early yet to be able to obtain an invitation. Luckily for me I had a very nice roommate, V, who did get up early and who hassled a little at the Cinephiles stand and got two invitation to a french movie in a theatre called 'Salle du 60e': "Formal dress required", oooh!
After having breakfast (at noon) V and I first went to see a movie of which I have shamefully forgotten from which South American country it is called The Pope's toilet (El Bano del Papa). It was really good: simple, funny, dramatic, touching, and all based upon a real visit of the Pope in that area some years back.
So with our hopes up high as we had seen so just good movies so far, we went to see Boxes (de Jane Birkin (French singer from the sixties if I'm not mistaken)) at Salle du 60e. I was with B as well as with V and unfortunately not everybody enjoyed the movie that much. I did enjoy it, I thought it was quite good but it was very, how shall I put it....French. It should have been a play; the dialogue was realy good but it was not enough to lift up the whole movie.
The following day V and I collected two invitations each one of which was our very first invitation for no less than the red carpet! It was an afternoon show so we did not have to go home and change into fancy dresses. We did however have to cue as usual for about 45 to 60 minutes before we got to go in.
Admittedly it felt less special to be on the red carpet than I had thought. Probably because we only got to walk half of it, and we did so with a shit load of other people and there was no press taking pictures of us. It was just us taking pictures of us and being rushed inside.
The inside of the Grand Theatre Lumiere was amazingly big and again the chairs were so incredibly comfortable. And so we sat down to watch: "Stellet Licht" (Silent light). Little did we know that it was going to be so hard to keep our eyes open. I can safely say that this was the worst movie we saw all week. There was hardly any story (which seemed to be a festival trend anyway), the shots were unbearably long and there was hardly any dialogue.
That evening we went to another screening in a theatre called Salle Bunuel to see a movie called Transes. We had no idea what the movie was going to be about, but we did not care. We were going there because Martin Scorsese was going to be there too and we wanted to see him.
And when we got to keep our cameras on us we were even more excited because that meant we could also take pictures of Martin Scorsese.
And so we sat waiting for him to arrive with our cameras ready. As soon as he arrived several people started flashing their cameras about, us too. Martin Scorsese did a little speech about god knows what, we were too busy taking pictures.
When he was done we found out that we were going to watch a documentary from the seventies about a popular Morrocan band making traditional music. I have to say I found it really interesting but I was a little tired already and the rythm of the music was not really helping me keep awake. You can see it coming; I slept through a big chunk of the movie.
Nevertheless it had been another riveting day in Cannes; we had had more sun, more good food and I had also bought a gorgeous dress.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Fleur's Writing Life in Cannes aka Wa'eva! Part 1
Saturday May 19th, above the sea, about 10:00
"Where the hell is the fucking airport?" were B's words before we landed at Nice Airport. Don't you just love landing at an airport right by the sea? It always seems like you're not going to make it because you're not able to tell how high up you are and how fast your descending and how far away the airport is.
I'm guessing you got that we made it.
Some twenty, thirty minutes later we, B, M, V and me were standing outside of Nice airport with our luggage, arguing about taking a cab to Cannes or the bus. The plan was to just ask how much the cab was, but I knew deep inside that the choice was already made; it was cab instead of bus. And I think that's where it started: "Whatever", I thought to myself. "I am here on holiday, I'm not going to get worked up over this." and "whatever" (pronounce: wa'eva) however lame a word it may be to use like that on it's own, turned out to be the perfect catch phrase for the entire week!
First celebrity spot at the airport: Jim Jarmusch (Broken Flowers, Coffee and Cigarettes).
Some sixty minutes later we were at the pool! Holy Cote D'Azûr! I love this climate. Let the holiday begin! Our apartment was located in the hills above Cannes at this large, but very quiet, apartment park, with a gorgeous view of the mountains! Now you can tell me anything you like, but when you're Dutch and you have lived almost your entire life in a country that is as flat as the pancakes it bakes, being surrounded by mountains is the second most foreign feeling you can feel (I imagine being on the moon is the first most foreign feeling but I can't really tell).
Later that afternoon we went into Cannes to retrieve our badges with our accreditation confirmation. After having been sent to the wrong office first, we arrived at the right one (Cannes Cinephiles) five minutes before it closed, but got turned down anyway. A little hassling was going on to see if we could not get our badges anyway, but it was in vain. "Whatever!" I thought to myself. "We'll get our badges tomorrow. It's just our first day here."
And so we tried to get onto the Marché du Film with just our accreditation, because according to M it would be wise if we all visited our own country's stands and hassle for invitations to parties. I however was first of all very sceptic about mingling with the minorly important Dutch crowd that was there; I had already spotted Rene Mioch (some movie critic). I mean, being a celebrity in Holland is just about equal to winning the Weakest Link. Second: I did not really care for parties. I wanted to see films, eat good food, drink good wine and enjoy the sun.
But we got onto the Marché and we walked around for a bit. Little did we know that with our accreditation we were actually not even alowed on the market!
The next morning it took less than a minute to get our badges and we were off to explore what there was to do at Cannes Film Festival. Note: when I say we from now on I am usually only talking about V and me. Seeing as how we wanted to do the same things and B and M usually other things, we hung out together! So we went onto the Marché to go the the UK stand, though only because they had computers and we wanted to check our messages.
When we were done we though it was about time we tried to find out which theatres we could go to. So we went into an information point at the Marché. The lady was surprised we did not get a map of the festival area. "What kind of badges have you got?" We showed our badges. "But you're not even supposed to be here" "I know" I said. "But we are here noe, so could you perhaps please tell us where we can and can not go?" Finally she explained to us that we could get into some theatres with just our badges and others we needed invitations for.
And so we were off to Cinema du Monde as we could enter this theatre without invitations. After walking around a whole area of the festival we finally found the entrance, of course, at the back of the building. And when it was time, in we went to see a Bollywood movie called Guru. It was great, as all Bollywood movies and though you should never watch more then one every couple of months because they're all pretty much the same, this one was quite different. The tone of the movie was much more serious as it was not just a story about love, but a story about a man building his own career from scratch all the way to the top!
Film wise, it was a great start!
In the evening we went ahead and queued for the Debussy theatre in which the films that were nominated for Un Certain Regarde were showing. We weren't sure whether we could get in with just our badges because we had seen people with invitations, but we thought we'd try anyway. And hurrah! We got in. And so we sat down, again in über comfortable cinema chairs, to see and Italian movie called My Brother is an Only Child (Mio Fratello è Figglio Unico) which turned out to be just about the best movie we saw all week! A touching story set in the sixties about two brothers who have quite opposing political views. Disfuntional family drama with a hint of comedy just the way I like it, and BRILLIANT acting!
The perfect movie to end the first real day at the festival with!
"Where the hell is the fucking airport?" were B's words before we landed at Nice Airport. Don't you just love landing at an airport right by the sea? It always seems like you're not going to make it because you're not able to tell how high up you are and how fast your descending and how far away the airport is.
I'm guessing you got that we made it.
Some twenty, thirty minutes later we, B, M, V and me were standing outside of Nice airport with our luggage, arguing about taking a cab to Cannes or the bus. The plan was to just ask how much the cab was, but I knew deep inside that the choice was already made; it was cab instead of bus. And I think that's where it started: "Whatever", I thought to myself. "I am here on holiday, I'm not going to get worked up over this." and "whatever" (pronounce: wa'eva) however lame a word it may be to use like that on it's own, turned out to be the perfect catch phrase for the entire week!
First celebrity spot at the airport: Jim Jarmusch (Broken Flowers, Coffee and Cigarettes).
Some sixty minutes later we were at the pool! Holy Cote D'Azûr! I love this climate. Let the holiday begin! Our apartment was located in the hills above Cannes at this large, but very quiet, apartment park, with a gorgeous view of the mountains! Now you can tell me anything you like, but when you're Dutch and you have lived almost your entire life in a country that is as flat as the pancakes it bakes, being surrounded by mountains is the second most foreign feeling you can feel (I imagine being on the moon is the first most foreign feeling but I can't really tell).
Later that afternoon we went into Cannes to retrieve our badges with our accreditation confirmation. After having been sent to the wrong office first, we arrived at the right one (Cannes Cinephiles) five minutes before it closed, but got turned down anyway. A little hassling was going on to see if we could not get our badges anyway, but it was in vain. "Whatever!" I thought to myself. "We'll get our badges tomorrow. It's just our first day here."
And so we tried to get onto the Marché du Film with just our accreditation, because according to M it would be wise if we all visited our own country's stands and hassle for invitations to parties. I however was first of all very sceptic about mingling with the minorly important Dutch crowd that was there; I had already spotted Rene Mioch (some movie critic). I mean, being a celebrity in Holland is just about equal to winning the Weakest Link. Second: I did not really care for parties. I wanted to see films, eat good food, drink good wine and enjoy the sun.
But we got onto the Marché and we walked around for a bit. Little did we know that with our accreditation we were actually not even alowed on the market!
The next morning it took less than a minute to get our badges and we were off to explore what there was to do at Cannes Film Festival. Note: when I say we from now on I am usually only talking about V and me. Seeing as how we wanted to do the same things and B and M usually other things, we hung out together! So we went onto the Marché to go the the UK stand, though only because they had computers and we wanted to check our messages.
When we were done we though it was about time we tried to find out which theatres we could go to. So we went into an information point at the Marché. The lady was surprised we did not get a map of the festival area. "What kind of badges have you got?" We showed our badges. "But you're not even supposed to be here" "I know" I said. "But we are here noe, so could you perhaps please tell us where we can and can not go?" Finally she explained to us that we could get into some theatres with just our badges and others we needed invitations for.
And so we were off to Cinema du Monde as we could enter this theatre without invitations. After walking around a whole area of the festival we finally found the entrance, of course, at the back of the building. And when it was time, in we went to see a Bollywood movie called Guru. It was great, as all Bollywood movies and though you should never watch more then one every couple of months because they're all pretty much the same, this one was quite different. The tone of the movie was much more serious as it was not just a story about love, but a story about a man building his own career from scratch all the way to the top!
Film wise, it was a great start!
In the evening we went ahead and queued for the Debussy theatre in which the films that were nominated for Un Certain Regarde were showing. We weren't sure whether we could get in with just our badges because we had seen people with invitations, but we thought we'd try anyway. And hurrah! We got in. And so we sat down, again in über comfortable cinema chairs, to see and Italian movie called My Brother is an Only Child (Mio Fratello è Figglio Unico) which turned out to be just about the best movie we saw all week! A touching story set in the sixties about two brothers who have quite opposing political views. Disfuntional family drama with a hint of comedy just the way I like it, and BRILLIANT acting!
The perfect movie to end the first real day at the festival with!
It's been like since foreverrrr!!!!
Okay so first of all I want to post a short note saying I know I haven't posted in ages! But I assume most of you understand I have just been very busy. And when you're busy that doesn't mean that you can't fit in to write a wee little blog post every now and then. But when you're busy writing and you have some spare time and your options to spend your spare time are; writing or not writing, the choice is easily made.
However, I like writing.... surprise! And therefore I feel that Fleur's Writing Life in London should be revived. And I have THE subject to do it on: Cannes. So my next post will be my elaborate report of the adventures I had at the Cote D'Azûr (and I have long promised this blog post to several people already).
Hopefully I will be able to keep my blog more up to date as to what is happening over here. Though I have to say it is not a lot, I will try to squeeze some juicy stuff out of it for everyone that is thirsty to hear about Fleur!
However, I like writing.... surprise! And therefore I feel that Fleur's Writing Life in London should be revived. And I have THE subject to do it on: Cannes. So my next post will be my elaborate report of the adventures I had at the Cote D'Azûr (and I have long promised this blog post to several people already).
Hopefully I will be able to keep my blog more up to date as to what is happening over here. Though I have to say it is not a lot, I will try to squeeze some juicy stuff out of it for everyone that is thirsty to hear about Fleur!
Monday, February 19, 2007
Tag, I'm it!
A couple of nights ago when I logged onto my Myspace I found that I had a new comment. I followed the link to see which of my Myspace friends had something to say to me and what. It turned out to be my Myspace and real life friend A. She is also on the MA screenwriting and she had just tagged me.
Rules: Someone writes a blog with seven weird/random facts about themselves. Then, at the end of the blog he/she tags seven of their friends by listing their names. These people then need to write their own blogs with seven facts about themselves and these rules stated clearly. It is also required that you leave a comment on the new tag-ees pages, telling them they have been tagged, and that they should read your blog.
Fictive or non-fictive, or both in my case, having a blog comes with consequences, apparantly. So ladies and gents please sit tight as I present to you, my seven weird/ random facts:
1. I once caught the bouquet at a wedding. According to the wedding video (which I refuse to watch) I lunged for it, but as far as I'm concerned I just had to stretch out my arm and there it was in my hand. I feel sorry for the other girls who were there as the tradition goes that I will now be the first to marry. I fear they're going to have to wait a very long time.
2. I am a cat lover. And with that I don't just mean that I am a cat person and I think kittens look really cute. Anyone who does not think kittens are cute has clearly never understood the concept of cute. When I say I am a cat lover I mean that whenever I see a cat I have to stop whatever I am doing and go over to pet it. I have even already made a cat friend here in London. She lives en route to Sainsbury's.
p.s. I can also purr.
3. I have a childhood trauma of being mistaken for a boy. When I was little my hair was very thin and so the hairdresser and my mum felt it was best for me to cut my hair very short and layered. And so I came to be regularly mistaken for a boy. My sister teased me with it a lot, though of course I forgive her. I think my worst memory is when I first had to go to school with my tomboy haircut and my best friend laughed at me in my face.
4. (Inspired by my tagger, A.) My favourite movie is Barbarella, the utterly tacky cult movie from the 60s about space cadet Barbarella who is on a mission to find the scientist Duran Duran (where the 80s music group got there name from). A more shameful fact about me and movies: I think I can safely say that I have seen Dirty Dancing about fifty times. Fourty of which must have been age 15 and under.
5. I am going to spend more time thinking of seven people to tag than I am going to spend time writing this post. Sadly this kind of blog thing assumes that I know a lot of people who think they are interesting enough to publish their own lives on the internet. I actually only know a few people with blogs, and they actually post interesting things or are good writers (and I am not talking about myself)!
6. I did not learn how to ride a bike, without the safety wheels, until I was seven years old. I kept on failing and failing until gave up. After I don't know how long my dad got sick of having to take me on the back of his bike and he told me that I would have to walk to school if I did not learn how to ride a bike. See here, I perform well when under pressure!
7. Last but not least; at some point in my highschool career I wanted to become a pathologist and cut open dead people's bodies. I soon realised however that I was going to have to studie for ten years and I gave up the idea. I am still interested in the human body, though I would never want to be responsible for more than one; my own (and those of my children of course, if my future beholds them).
Well that was it kids! I now begin the very long process of thinking who I am going to tag. The first names that come to mind are:
Merel en Sara they can continue this lovely tag chain in Dutch, and though Sara's Livejournal is more of an art posting blog she will just have to obey the rules of this game!
Furthermore I tag Patxi who's blog I recently was invited to join though I am not sure as to what I should write there.
That is three, slowly but steady. So I guess I'll tag Cris and Dean, because they semi-regularly post on their Myspace blogs. Correction; Dean posts regularly, I just found out. I am such a bad blog friend.
Down to the last two, making this really hard for me. And I hope that when I say, I am not able to think of two others, I will not be blog cursed or anything. I hope blog karma won;t get back at me for not tagging seven people.
I guess I'll find out soon enough!
Rules: Someone writes a blog with seven weird/random facts about themselves. Then, at the end of the blog he/she tags seven of their friends by listing their names. These people then need to write their own blogs with seven facts about themselves and these rules stated clearly. It is also required that you leave a comment on the new tag-ees pages, telling them they have been tagged, and that they should read your blog.
Fictive or non-fictive, or both in my case, having a blog comes with consequences, apparantly. So ladies and gents please sit tight as I present to you, my seven weird/ random facts:
1. I once caught the bouquet at a wedding. According to the wedding video (which I refuse to watch) I lunged for it, but as far as I'm concerned I just had to stretch out my arm and there it was in my hand. I feel sorry for the other girls who were there as the tradition goes that I will now be the first to marry. I fear they're going to have to wait a very long time.
2. I am a cat lover. And with that I don't just mean that I am a cat person and I think kittens look really cute. Anyone who does not think kittens are cute has clearly never understood the concept of cute. When I say I am a cat lover I mean that whenever I see a cat I have to stop whatever I am doing and go over to pet it. I have even already made a cat friend here in London. She lives en route to Sainsbury's.
p.s. I can also purr.
3. I have a childhood trauma of being mistaken for a boy. When I was little my hair was very thin and so the hairdresser and my mum felt it was best for me to cut my hair very short and layered. And so I came to be regularly mistaken for a boy. My sister teased me with it a lot, though of course I forgive her. I think my worst memory is when I first had to go to school with my tomboy haircut and my best friend laughed at me in my face.
4. (Inspired by my tagger, A.) My favourite movie is Barbarella, the utterly tacky cult movie from the 60s about space cadet Barbarella who is on a mission to find the scientist Duran Duran (where the 80s music group got there name from). A more shameful fact about me and movies: I think I can safely say that I have seen Dirty Dancing about fifty times. Fourty of which must have been age 15 and under.
5. I am going to spend more time thinking of seven people to tag than I am going to spend time writing this post. Sadly this kind of blog thing assumes that I know a lot of people who think they are interesting enough to publish their own lives on the internet. I actually only know a few people with blogs, and they actually post interesting things or are good writers (and I am not talking about myself)!
6. I did not learn how to ride a bike, without the safety wheels, until I was seven years old. I kept on failing and failing until gave up. After I don't know how long my dad got sick of having to take me on the back of his bike and he told me that I would have to walk to school if I did not learn how to ride a bike. See here, I perform well when under pressure!
7. Last but not least; at some point in my highschool career I wanted to become a pathologist and cut open dead people's bodies. I soon realised however that I was going to have to studie for ten years and I gave up the idea. I am still interested in the human body, though I would never want to be responsible for more than one; my own (and those of my children of course, if my future beholds them).
Well that was it kids! I now begin the very long process of thinking who I am going to tag. The first names that come to mind are:
Merel en Sara they can continue this lovely tag chain in Dutch, and though Sara's Livejournal is more of an art posting blog she will just have to obey the rules of this game!
Furthermore I tag Patxi who's blog I recently was invited to join though I am not sure as to what I should write there.
That is three, slowly but steady. So I guess I'll tag Cris and Dean, because they semi-regularly post on their Myspace blogs. Correction; Dean posts regularly, I just found out. I am such a bad blog friend.
Down to the last two, making this really hard for me. And I hope that when I say, I am not able to think of two others, I will not be blog cursed or anything. I hope blog karma won;t get back at me for not tagging seven people.
I guess I'll find out soon enough!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Good night, grumpy me!
On Sunday morning I was standing in the kitchen having breakfast at 6:45 am. This was to be exact the fourth time I was having breakfast at this ungodly hour of the day. I had actually chosen to get up this early out of free will because I was helping my housemate I out with making a short movie (which had to be filmed not only early morning but also with grey and cold weather). Anything for film!
So I was eating my yoghurt with crunchy muesli and all of a sudden I became aware of the fact that I felt completely at home. I was aware of the fact that I was unaware of my surroundings. They were no longer new to me but more like a given; they are just there.
When you first move into a new room/ house you have to get used to everything: where the light switches are, how you have to pull the toilet door before being able to close it, all the sounds you can hear etc.
Gradually you come to know all these things and they sort of move to the background. They become the new scenery for your life. And on this perticular morning I had become aware that my new surroundings had completely blended into my background.
With this new awareness of feeling completely at ease my mood decided that it would be okay for me to deal with a little change. For now that I had settled in all comfy and I should be feeling really happy about it, I was grumpy.
Even though I took it as another sign that I was feeling completely at ease; for I was not holding back and letting whichever feeling comes up take over. It does not change the fact that I do not like being grumpy. Because with me it is always inexplicable. I like to know why I am feeling a certain way. Seeing as how I can not explain the grumpy feeling it makes me more grumpy and i get stuck in this circle of grumpy-ness from which I can usually only escape by having a proper night of sleep.
So I did the only thing I can do when I am grumpy. I locked myself in my room so as not to affect any other people with my mood. If there's one thing I dislike more it is people who take their mood out on other people. And when it was time I went to bed, hoping that I would wake up a happy person.
So I was eating my yoghurt with crunchy muesli and all of a sudden I became aware of the fact that I felt completely at home. I was aware of the fact that I was unaware of my surroundings. They were no longer new to me but more like a given; they are just there.
When you first move into a new room/ house you have to get used to everything: where the light switches are, how you have to pull the toilet door before being able to close it, all the sounds you can hear etc.
Gradually you come to know all these things and they sort of move to the background. They become the new scenery for your life. And on this perticular morning I had become aware that my new surroundings had completely blended into my background.
With this new awareness of feeling completely at ease my mood decided that it would be okay for me to deal with a little change. For now that I had settled in all comfy and I should be feeling really happy about it, I was grumpy.
Even though I took it as another sign that I was feeling completely at ease; for I was not holding back and letting whichever feeling comes up take over. It does not change the fact that I do not like being grumpy. Because with me it is always inexplicable. I like to know why I am feeling a certain way. Seeing as how I can not explain the grumpy feeling it makes me more grumpy and i get stuck in this circle of grumpy-ness from which I can usually only escape by having a proper night of sleep.
So I did the only thing I can do when I am grumpy. I locked myself in my room so as not to affect any other people with my mood. If there's one thing I dislike more it is people who take their mood out on other people. And when it was time I went to bed, hoping that I would wake up a happy person.
Monday, February 05, 2007
No new latte, all for the best
Last week I went into town to buy some new shoes. Not that I just wanted to buy shoes, period. But because I needed to buy shoes that were less cold than my Converse and more comfortable than my Cowboy boots.
After I had done a fair amount of strolling around the shopping area I felt it was time to take short break and so I went into Cafe Nero to treat myself to a nice hot drink. It was extremely crowded, but I was determined to sit down as my feet had deserved a bit of rest.
There was a seat free on a table next to a geeky looking guy. I asked him if the seat was taken and he said no so I sat down.
He was reading a book, I was not able to tell which one as the book was almost closed. It was opened just enough for him to read it and his hands were clasped around the cover. I thought it a bit rude to bent down and look at the title. Plus it might provoke a conversation which I was not in the mood for having.
So I just sipped my large green tea and enjoyed a nice moment of rest. Little did I know this moment was not to last very long. As the guy sitting next to me was buried so deep down into his book that when he wanted to put his cup of latte back on the saucer he missed. More than half of the cup, which had still been in there a split second before was now spread out on the table and on my lap.
"Oh bugger!" he looked at the contents of his cup on the table. I looked at the contents of the other bit on my lap. "Oh bugger indeed!" He looked at me and then at my lap. "Oh no! I am so sorry! Let me..." "It's okay, just get me some napkins." He got up and wanted to put his book down on the table. I snatched it from his hands just before it reached the big bad puddle of latte. "Thanks!" "It's okay, just get those napkins!".
I looked at the cover of the book: "Paper Kisses: A True Love Story". Weird. He did not really strike me as the romance type of guy. Perhaps he had gotten it recommended by a friend I thought to myself as I read that it was about two star crossed lovers in Nazi Germany. I raised one eyebrow when the guy returned with napkins.
"No, no, let me do that" and I took the napkins from his hands that had just started to dry my lap. "Oh, I'm sorry.", he smiled nervously embarrassed by yet another clumsy performance. "It's because of the coffee you see." I frowned, both eyebrows this time. "No not really." "It's the coffee, I can't really handle it that well." A silence followed as I was still waiting for an explanation. "I mean, it’s the caffeine." "Ah, right, now I get it. So why do you drink it?" "Well, that's why I drink latte, with lots of milk."
Yes, latte is with milk, I knew that.
Meanwhile I was still trying to get that wretched latte off my jeans. "If that does not come out I will have it dry cleaned for you." I looked up. His face was buried in his briefcase. Who was this guy? Was he some business man, or a lawyer? He fetched a business card from his briefcase and gave it to me.
"Ben (Benjamin) Fletcher, The Super Stationer, Assistant Manager". He worked at the stationers? Why was he carrying a briefcase around?
"Thanks, Ben. That is really nice." "It's no big deal really. I have one of those home dry cleaning devices." This was no surprise to me. It was actually kind of sweet that he offered to clean my jeans if I could not get the stain out.
"I'm Fleur." I put out my hand. He took it. "Nice to meet you Ben." He smiled a shy kind of smile. "Nice to meet you too." He immediately turned from me and opened his book to continue reading.
Okay. Well at least I did not create the idea of attraction. for this odd ball came across very sweet. But I feared he needed to be matched with one of his own kind. And that, to say the least, was well, let's say 'Out of my league'.
I finished my tea which gave my pants some time to dry a little. Then I got up and put on my coat, which thankfully covered some of the giant Latte stain.
"Enjoy your book!" I said to Ben. He looked up at me and then he looked down at the light brown spot on my jeans. "Sorry to make you go out on the streets looking like an idiot." He replied as he pushed his glasses up by squishing his nose and his eyebrows together.
"It's okay." I said. You must know all about it.
I left him reading. He had not ordered a new latte. All for the best.
After I had done a fair amount of strolling around the shopping area I felt it was time to take short break and so I went into Cafe Nero to treat myself to a nice hot drink. It was extremely crowded, but I was determined to sit down as my feet had deserved a bit of rest.
There was a seat free on a table next to a geeky looking guy. I asked him if the seat was taken and he said no so I sat down.
He was reading a book, I was not able to tell which one as the book was almost closed. It was opened just enough for him to read it and his hands were clasped around the cover. I thought it a bit rude to bent down and look at the title. Plus it might provoke a conversation which I was not in the mood for having.
So I just sipped my large green tea and enjoyed a nice moment of rest. Little did I know this moment was not to last very long. As the guy sitting next to me was buried so deep down into his book that when he wanted to put his cup of latte back on the saucer he missed. More than half of the cup, which had still been in there a split second before was now spread out on the table and on my lap.
"Oh bugger!" he looked at the contents of his cup on the table. I looked at the contents of the other bit on my lap. "Oh bugger indeed!" He looked at me and then at my lap. "Oh no! I am so sorry! Let me..." "It's okay, just get me some napkins." He got up and wanted to put his book down on the table. I snatched it from his hands just before it reached the big bad puddle of latte. "Thanks!" "It's okay, just get those napkins!".
I looked at the cover of the book: "Paper Kisses: A True Love Story". Weird. He did not really strike me as the romance type of guy. Perhaps he had gotten it recommended by a friend I thought to myself as I read that it was about two star crossed lovers in Nazi Germany. I raised one eyebrow when the guy returned with napkins.
"No, no, let me do that" and I took the napkins from his hands that had just started to dry my lap. "Oh, I'm sorry.", he smiled nervously embarrassed by yet another clumsy performance. "It's because of the coffee you see." I frowned, both eyebrows this time. "No not really." "It's the coffee, I can't really handle it that well." A silence followed as I was still waiting for an explanation. "I mean, it’s the caffeine." "Ah, right, now I get it. So why do you drink it?" "Well, that's why I drink latte, with lots of milk."
Yes, latte is with milk, I knew that.
Meanwhile I was still trying to get that wretched latte off my jeans. "If that does not come out I will have it dry cleaned for you." I looked up. His face was buried in his briefcase. Who was this guy? Was he some business man, or a lawyer? He fetched a business card from his briefcase and gave it to me.
"Ben (Benjamin) Fletcher, The Super Stationer, Assistant Manager". He worked at the stationers? Why was he carrying a briefcase around?
"Thanks, Ben. That is really nice." "It's no big deal really. I have one of those home dry cleaning devices." This was no surprise to me. It was actually kind of sweet that he offered to clean my jeans if I could not get the stain out.
"I'm Fleur." I put out my hand. He took it. "Nice to meet you Ben." He smiled a shy kind of smile. "Nice to meet you too." He immediately turned from me and opened his book to continue reading.
Okay. Well at least I did not create the idea of attraction. for this odd ball came across very sweet. But I feared he needed to be matched with one of his own kind. And that, to say the least, was well, let's say 'Out of my league'.
I finished my tea which gave my pants some time to dry a little. Then I got up and put on my coat, which thankfully covered some of the giant Latte stain.
"Enjoy your book!" I said to Ben. He looked up at me and then he looked down at the light brown spot on my jeans. "Sorry to make you go out on the streets looking like an idiot." He replied as he pushed his glasses up by squishing his nose and his eyebrows together.
"It's okay." I said. You must know all about it.
I left him reading. He had not ordered a new latte. All for the best.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Do I even believe in fate?
So after having met everybody on the MA course and having had the introduction I had a really good feeling about it. And after having had my first classes this week I am even more confident that I chose the right path when I decided to try out for this course. As I said before, I am heading in the right direction.
There's another thing I have not mentioned though and that is the story of how I got to have the room that I am staying in.
This room that is not only really big (big enough to practise Yoga in) and has a view on our garden which is locatged on the southside of our house (so I have sun in my room almost all day long). It is also located in a house which happens to be in a very quiet area and only a twenty minute walk from the university. On top of that I have four great house mates who are all very friendly and lots of fun.
Taken into account that I had never even seen any pictures of the room and I did speak to one house mate on the phone but I did not meet the other before I arrived, one can say that I got incredibly lucky. However there is another thing that needs to be taken into account; the decision on why I was to become the new house mate.
Several people had viewed the room already, but none were quite what the house mates were looking for. It turned out not to be so easy to find a person that would fit in. And so one of my house mates, I, prayed that a nice candidate for the room would come along. Preferably one who studied film, as I is quite interested in film.
At the time I responded to the online add I was actually already too late because they were just making the desicion that evening. But of course because I was going to do study screenwriting it had to be me.
Now I tell myself that this is an incredible story. And I ask myself; did both parties in this story get incredibly lucky, or was it fate?
Was it meant to be that I came exactly here and meet exactly these people? Do I even believe in fate?
If I were to answer this question I would say 'No'. I believe in chance. Because I believe that a person always has a choice to decide one way or the other. And I believe this choice depends on a lot of circumstances. Besides, what is the whole point of choice if fate already knows which decision you're going to make? If fate already knows than there is no actual decision.
I believe in decision. An individual makes decisions and he or she is defined by these decisions and has to take responsibility for making them. Whether it's the right one or the wrong one it was yours.
And the decision to go for this room, it was 100% mine. I am taking full responsibilty even though I had never seen it before and i had never met the people I was going to be living with.
To me it was luck, to someone else it might be fate. I guess that is just a different way of viewing life.
There's another thing I have not mentioned though and that is the story of how I got to have the room that I am staying in.
This room that is not only really big (big enough to practise Yoga in) and has a view on our garden which is locatged on the southside of our house (so I have sun in my room almost all day long). It is also located in a house which happens to be in a very quiet area and only a twenty minute walk from the university. On top of that I have four great house mates who are all very friendly and lots of fun.
Taken into account that I had never even seen any pictures of the room and I did speak to one house mate on the phone but I did not meet the other before I arrived, one can say that I got incredibly lucky. However there is another thing that needs to be taken into account; the decision on why I was to become the new house mate.
Several people had viewed the room already, but none were quite what the house mates were looking for. It turned out not to be so easy to find a person that would fit in. And so one of my house mates, I, prayed that a nice candidate for the room would come along. Preferably one who studied film, as I is quite interested in film.
At the time I responded to the online add I was actually already too late because they were just making the desicion that evening. But of course because I was going to do study screenwriting it had to be me.
Now I tell myself that this is an incredible story. And I ask myself; did both parties in this story get incredibly lucky, or was it fate?
Was it meant to be that I came exactly here and meet exactly these people? Do I even believe in fate?
If I were to answer this question I would say 'No'. I believe in chance. Because I believe that a person always has a choice to decide one way or the other. And I believe this choice depends on a lot of circumstances. Besides, what is the whole point of choice if fate already knows which decision you're going to make? If fate already knows than there is no actual decision.
I believe in decision. An individual makes decisions and he or she is defined by these decisions and has to take responsibility for making them. Whether it's the right one or the wrong one it was yours.
And the decision to go for this room, it was 100% mine. I am taking full responsibilty even though I had never seen it before and i had never met the people I was going to be living with.
To me it was luck, to someone else it might be fate. I guess that is just a different way of viewing life.
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