I miss you. I really, honestly, miss you. I want to feel your lips brush against my neck. I want to feel you breathe my scent as you nuzzle my neck gently. I want to feel your hands travel down my back and rest on the curve of my hip. I want to feel our legs entwined in a tangled mess in between the soft sheets. I want to feel your presence behind me and your body envelope mine. I want to feel your fingertips drumming a familiar rhythm as they travel down my tummy. I want to be buried beneath your body and let these feelings overwhelm me. I want to reach up and run my fingers along your shoulder blades and down your arm. I want you to reach underneath and run your tongue along my neck and down my collar bone. I want to lean my head against your chest and synchronise my breaths to your soothing heartbeat. I want to be lulled to sleep by the quiet heaving of your chest.

I want to close my eyes then open them and see you. I want to be with you, physically. I want you to be real.

I miss you. I really, honestly, miss you.

I didn't forget to soak the bamboo skewers before spearing the meat on this time! And I even got mutton. I wanted to go to halal store but they ran out of lamb by the time I go there. Anyway, I just went to my neighbourhood grocery store.

I'm not sure what brand of tofu I got but it tasted different from what I was used to.

Half way through, I ran out of propane and had to head out to the liquor store. I used lemongrass to brush on lemon juice. It was a substitute for tamarind juice which I couldn't find at the Asian market.

This time I actually tried making "tempeh satay." I first tasted this last summer at my French professor's father's home where she invited me to have lunch with her family. She's half Finnish and half Indonesian. And vegan. :) The marinate actually went very well with this. Even Krislyn and her friends liked it.

Gado-gado! I almost burnt the ketupat because I forgot to turn off the stove when the timer went off.

To top it off, I fried up shrimp keropok. It tasted a lot better fresh rather than ready-made in a package. And also empeng (?) at least that's what I think my mum calls them. It's bitter and well... I grew up on it and I like it. I'm not sure what it's made of though. Hopefully there's not meat product in it! :oops:

After hosting this for Krislyn and her friends, I went to the military base I lived by to watch the fireworks with her. Of course it's not as impressive as Singapore's National Day (I hear the fighter planes are already practising?) but I appreciated them all the same. Then I biked home. I got a little disoriented since I noticed there was a car following me even when I randomly turned into alleys.

I came home to a quiet apartment and took a shower... now I'm here.

Comment prononcer correctement un mot en anglais (sans passer par la case horrible accent français, même s'il paraît qu'il fait des ravages...)

Bon d'accord, on n'y trouve pas tout le dictionnaire non plus, mais tapez "nemo" pour voir...

C'est bon, le plus important y est :D

Jamba Juice is definitely one of my favourite drinks but I got carrot juice from here for the first time a couple days ago. It was extremely orange... and tasted just like eating a carrot. Yum. :D The whole place smells like a cross of fresh squeezed juice from an assortment of fruits and soap. If it weren't for the very loud blenders and food processors, I wouldn't mind watching the world go by there since it does have very uplifting deco and a relaxing atmosphere.

Duh... if Krislyn's here we have to stop at Starbucks. She jacked WW's iPod Touch. After they finished their chatter, we finally headed off. That's when the real fun began...

I went to church today for the first time. Ever. I was always aware of the church across the street and from the looks of it and its description ("a family church"), I was curious about what went on behind those glassy doors. Every Wednesday the sidewalks surrounding my apartment wound be clogged by an endless stream of vehicles. There were even signs that actually prohibited these church goers from parking there since it deprived the people living here of their parking spots. But every Wednesday night without fail, no bare spot upon the curb was spared.

In any case, for the past decade this church has been fighting with the city for a plot of land at a busy intersection. The city wanted to build a complex that would bring in business thus giving it more money for repairs, upgrades and anything else to improve this place. I live in a very quiet, family-oriented neighbourhood with numerous parks and schools by the way. Not stuck in the ghetto at all. (Not that there's anything wrong with ghettos or barrios...). Just recently, this church won and they built a HUGE new campus. And coincidentally the day I decide to go to church, it's Opening Weekend. Now, I was aware of the fact that this church had quite a sizable base of worshippers. But I had no idea at all about what I was about to experience...

There are SIX CAR PARKS to accomodate everyone. WTF?!

And I directly quote that the church services are "broadcasted to 100s of nations."

Seating for over 3000 people... and this is only the main auditorium. Permanent seating will be installed by the end of the month.

There were two very large screens on both sides of the stage so that we could get a clear view of the band from all directions. First of all, this is not an ordinary church. This was a freaking MEGA CHURCH. It's actually referred to as a MEGA CHURCH. The service started with Christian rock music... basically half the service was singing. I can't believe they had their own live band. And there were like 6 main singers and a choir of about 20 or so people. What really surprised me was that I wasn't surrounded by WASPs. There was huge ethnic diversity there. Looking at all sides of me, there were people with tears flowing from their eyes. Seriously?! Even the singers on the stage were all crying because they were so "awed by the glory of Jesus Christ the Eternal Saviour." I can't tell you how many times I heard people shouting "Praise the Lord." Then towards the end there was a reading of scriptures from the Bible... talking about spreading the faith. Passing it on from generation to generation was of the utmost importance. Jump off the cliff everyone and into the arms of Jesus Christ! Give yourself over to his Eternal Love! Unless you accept Jesus into your heart, you will remain a sinner for He has died for your sins upon that cross! omgzzzzzzzz.

Then after the service we had an option of going into a separate room to receive a Bible. Okay... I was down for that. I've never read the Bible before... I was curious to know what that was all about. So I went in (along with Krislyn and WW). Then we were split up! What?! This group of old ladies lovingly put their arms around us and led us to little corners of the room privately to "discuss Christ" with us. I came to church for an experience and I was willing to remain open-minded about this. I actually wanted to hear what they had to say. (Even if I was expecting it).

So she introduced herself to me... she was the typical Caucasian grandma who should have been at home sipping tea while watching Lifetime or the Women's Entertainment Network... She was hard of hearing but her voice was easy on the ears and she was very passionate as she spoke. She asked me why I had come that day and if it was my first time... So I responded "Yes, this is my first time. I've never been to church before and I was just looking for a new experience. I was just curious about this." Then somewhere along the way I misheard her and I said that I wanted my soul to be saved by Jesus. Oh shit. Quickly I took back my word and politely told her that I was already devoted to another faith and she asked if I believed in Christ. I told her that I accepted his existence but not as the Son of God. Of course she had to ask what faith I was... and I was hesitant.

Me: I'm a Muslim

Old Lady: I'm sorry Honey, I can't hear you.

Me: (louder and leaning closer) I'm a Muslim. I believe in Islam.

Old Lady: (sudden change of facial expression) Oh... (huge sigh)... CRIES UNCONTROLLABLY

Me: (internal dialogue) I'm. Fucked. (smiles nervously)

And so she wept for my lost soul. She held my hand and told me about the wonders of Christ and how much He loved me. She explained that everyone was born with a gapping hole in their heart (at this point I laughed inside thinking about the real holes that were in my heart) that could only be filled with the true belief in Christ. She emphasised that Christ was a Livng God. Muhammad was dead. And we're all Sinners. But this Old Lady wasn't a Sinner since she had accepted Christ and was absolved of her sins for He had died upon the cross for her. But I was still a Sinner. She probably told me I was a Sinner 20 times. So you get the picture... then she got my contact information and made me promise that I would return. I nodded silently and scurried out.

When I met WW, I asked what her experience was like. WW told the lady that was trying to inspire her that she was an Atheist and this old lady almost fainted and fell off her chair. No broken hip bones though. Anyway, WW was unfazed too.

When I came home I had a chat with one of my friends who is an Orthodox Catholic and he was shocked that I even went. That I even walked three miles to church just to sit through that "bullshit." I learnt that I had attended an Evangelical Christian church service.

 "Evangelical" describes a theological position, one recognizing not only the need for such a personal experience with God but also the unique religious authority of Scripture and an obligation to share one's faith with others. Billy Graham is the paradigmatic evangelical.

Basically (according to this friend of mine) they placed hardly any emphasis on Scripture and if I was looking for a true Christian experience, this was definitely NOT it. I don't mean to ridicule the Christian faith at all. In fact, I was in awe at the amount of faith (if you can call singing about Jesus Christ with tears streaming down your face faith) these people had. They really believed. EVERYTHING. Someone asked me if it gave me goosebumps. Yea... it did. I was freaked out. Honestly, I am very glad that I went even though this was not what I was looking for, I have learnt a lot from this. I still hold respect for people who are "real" Christians as compared to these Gospel singers. (I have no problem with hymns though). I think I'd rather go through Catholic school all over again than do this Evangelical stuff again. Yes people, I went to Catholic school.

I must admit though that I do not feel my faith in Islam has been strengthened though. I just like the fact that I've been able to gain knowledge through what I witnessed today. So sorry People of *Neighbourhood Church Name*, I won't be coming back for another service to "Let the Praises Ringgggg!"

Then we went to Costco. Huge wholesale place. People go there for cheap lunch, free samples and gigantic everything in bulk.

Who wants to buy a whole crate of cereal? Special offer! This will last you your entire lifetime! :)

Then I walked another 3 miles home. There's a heatwave down here in Socal and wildfires in other parts of the Golden State. I'm just glad I made it home by 2 pm. The walk home was peaceful except for blistering heat and drivers honking at me for "no apparent reason"...

The title to this post is in reference to the church's motto.

We talked about everything that didn't pertain to anything about our lives. In the 20 minutes or so, we exchanged worries about declining US economy, rising oil prices, and the Zimbabwean presidential elections. We discussed the start of summer here and the plans I had to occupy my time. We made up for the months of silence by exchanging titles of books that we should read. We spoke of the start of my Chinese language course and my academic pursuits. We talked about "Unknown Caller's" job and the merging of two companies. The soft monotony coming from the phone alluded to new clients and rising competition.

We talked about everything that didn't pertain to anything about our lives.

I can't remember the last time I spoke with this person on the phone... more or less received an email. Maybe three months ago? It was only last month that I stopped playing the piano. It was untouchable to me. Untouchable for it was gift from this person. It is ironic that this beautiful instrument should come from this person for this person harboured no belief in my musical ability. They had no hope in me ever playing the piano... ever doing anything in my life... ever taking another breath... ever waking up to another morning. And yet... I received the piano from this person. But although the piano was a gift, it did not come with the hope that I would accomplish anything with it. It was only after the person left that I proved myself. Of course this person has never heard me play... has never seen the beginning of what would be my sole comfort and salvation from pain and suffering. And it is my belief that there will never come a day where I can show this person... this voice on the phone the passion I have developed.

The piano reminded me of this person who I had thought was dead for the past month and only recently accepted that this person was no longer living. What do you say when all along they were there across the Atlantic 8,000 miles away? So now... voice on the phone... I ask the imaginary version of you (for I can never ask you this question in person), why did you refuse my attempts to contact you? All I needed was one word: Alive. You could have let me know... It didn't matter to me if you would have said you didn't give a damn about me. While others' words have hurt me, your silence cuts me even deeper.

Tonight for the first time in a month, I'll be playing the piano again. It is my sole comfort and salvation from pain and suffering. And I wish you were here, Voice on the phone. I wish you were here, Dad.

They got hungry so we stopped at Plaza Cafe.

Donald Judd - Untitled (for Leo Casteili), 1977.

Alexander Liberman - Phoenix, 1974-1975.

Rolling down the hills...

Driving home. We were exhausted by the end of the day but it was an enriching experience.

Programme du jour : Crèche et activités manuelles avec Papa.

Début de matinée parfaite : Réveil 7h, p't déj, préparation, et Papa me dépose à la crèche à 8h.

Comme d'habitude, je passe une bonne journée.

17h30, il vient me chercher. Nous tentons d'aller jusqu'aux balançoires... mais grosse déception. Une visse a cédé, on ne peut plus l'utiliser. Je mets un peu de temps à m'en remettre, mais de "grande balançoire" sur les genoux de Papa me redonne du baume au coeur. En partant et du haut de mes 2 ans et 8 mois, je préviens en anglais la maman de Nicolas (un "petit" de la crèche) "My Dady said no. The swing is dangerous, it's broken. Don't go on the swing ok ? Bye bye !". Je crois qu'elle a bien compris là !

Papa est impressionné par mon anglais, lui qui ne m'entend que rarement parler dans cette langue. Je parle français avec lui, et anglais avec Maman et mes camarades de crèche.

Après que Papa m'ait lancée en l'air plusieurs fois pour mon plus grand plaisir, nous rentrons à la maison.

Nous appelons Maman (elle rentre demain soir de Seattle), et comme promis, nous descendons dans ma salle d'activités pour faire de pâte à modeler. Nous y passons une bonne heure.

!!!

Le repas démarre mal, je pleure pour rien. Papa arrive a garder son calme et me sert tout de même ma soupe. Pendant ce temps, il me prépare une mousse au chocolat. C'est marrant comme la vue d'un dessert me motive à devenir une petite fille sympa, et à terminer ma soupe sans broncher. Un verre de mousse avalé, et un peu avant 20h, nous montons à l'étage pour le rituel du soir :

- Je me déshabille toute seule dans ma chambre, je dépose mes vêtements dans le bac à linge et enfile le haut de mon pyjama.

- Je m'allonge sur le lit pour qu'on me mette ma couche, je termine de mettre mon pyjama et cours jusqu'à la salle de bains.

- Je choisi ma brosse à dents (ce soir, ce sera la rose), y dépose moi même une noisette de dentifrice, et commence le brossage. Papa termine le travail.

- Je retourne dans ma chambre, on ferme les volets, s'il n'est pas trop tard, on lit un livre, puis je viens dans les bras de Papa, il me chante une version courte et remixée par ses soins de "une chanson douce", je m'allonge dans mon lit, ferme les yeux, et il me chante "Frère Jacques". (Je connais aussi la version anglaise).

- Il me dit "je t'aime très fort, bonne nuit, à demain", je lui réponds "je t'aime très fort"... et je m'endors paisiblement.

Voilà comment ça se passe le soir avec Papa. Avec Maman, c'est un peu la même chose... mais elle chante bien mieux que Papa ! Rédacteur : Patrick-Robin, mon Papa.

Super duper un-hotness aka Me. I haven't eaten for the past 3 days. I didn't dare to take my jeans off though...

Whitty brought veggie dogs! But... yea Andy was the one who ended up eating them. Nadir's the one with the marshmallows.

WW totally screwed up her coat-hanger/skewer. She almost lost her hot dog to the fire multiple times.

How can WW stay so thin when she's such a chocolate addict?!!

Krislyn's close-to-burnt hot dog.

Andy messing with Ariel's camera... actually he wanted to take a photo of her as she helped him roast his veggie dog. He was confused that the colour was changing and apparently it still felt cold? Duh... it's not cooked.

S'mores... chocolate and marshmallow swished between to graham crackers.

Oh... we saw a dead seal that was beached... without a head. :( WW was totally paranoid in the ocean thinking that she would end up stepping on its dismembered head.

Ariel and her Nikon.

WW and Krislyn... the first ones to plunge into the ocean.

Discussing Communism! (really...)

Johnson's perfectly brown, toasted marshmallow! Not an easy feat to accomplish.

WW... buried in the sand with her face covered with my beach towel. At least she's accomplished one of her life's goals.

Rise of the Undead Zombie.

G-rated photos of skinny dipping! ;) At first WW was all for it but she backed out... Then I went to the far east of the beach with WW to stand watch as she did it alone and Krislyn totally flipped. Krislyn managed to coax WW into stripping down with her and Claire joined in as well. I had to stand watch and hold their clothing but then Brian and Andy swoop in and steal a few things (luckily not anything essential)... I tried to tackled Brian down... but he ran off.

The fire is dying down... Unlike last summer's bonfire, we didn't build up a burning hellish Inferno.

Saying goodbyes... They ended up playing Red Rover and the Human Knot Game. Seriously Red Rover is the perfect gain to break your fingers. :P I felt tired towards the end so I sat out... plus I didn't feel comfortable with touching. The ashes from the fire were really stinging my eyes. I wish I had brought my guitar along with me... I actually planned to. I don't know why I just didn't grab it off my bed.

And so it ends... We're going our separate ways next fall... Most of the gang are going up to northern California while Claire is off to Colorado. Steven and Grace couldn't be there since they're already in Washington D.C.

While I was by the ocean... when everyone was reminiscing together... I couldn't help but feel a tinge of loneliness.

*Verdict* TADAAAAMM

6 examens de passage! Et oui rien que ça! J'excelle en la matière les petits gars!

Les matières qui on remportés haut la main:

Anglais (of course),

Néerlandais( Ik begrijp niet,sorry)

Economie Politique (MAIS B*** J'ai étudié toute la journée j'ai répond à presque tout, WHAT THE HELL OMFG)

Statistiques (j'ai réussi l'examen mais avec 1 interro à 0,5/20 c'est chaud chaud)

Sociologie ( Bah ouai, j'ai foiré toutes les interros....)

Psychologie (J'ai étudié 4jours, je dois aller voir le prof, parce que pas normal)!

Alors plusieurs options s'offrent à moi! Soit je décide de prendre mon courage à 2 mains, je fais des résumés et je relis un peu tout les jours pour mieux étudier avant ma seconde sess, soit je prends des résumés de l'année et j'étudie comme d'habitude la veille ou 2jours avant l'examen, soit je change d'orientation et je passe des vacances tranquilles!

Encore une fois, je me retrouve au même point de départ! J E  N E  S A I S  P A S  Q U O I  F A I R E  D E  M A  V I E!!! c'est clair non? Donc si je ne sais pas quoi faire, je ne sais pas vraiment vers quoi m'orienter!

Mais c'est là qu'interviens Sylvanie! Elle était avec moi en secondaire, bonne pote et on avait même entamer des études d'institutrice préscolaire à Nivelles (on a arrêté après 1mois et demi hein!) BREF! Elle m'a parlé d'une sorte de graduat (en 3ans donc) pour être éducatrice (à Roux ça se passe) on est en stage 3-4 jours et on a 1 ou 2 jours de cours et le must, on à droit au chômage! Donc j'avoue que, dans l'attente de plus de détails, ça m'intéresse!

Ou glandeuse professionnelle à regarder des séries toute la journée pourquoi pas, mais pas bien payé!

Bay Area - From the late 1950s through the 1960s, Bay Area Figuration was conceived as a reaction against abstract expressionism by a group of artists working in the San Francisco Bay Area. The early style of these painters - David Park, Richard Diebenkorn, and Jay Defeo, among them - was abstract, but they soon switched to a representative style in order to experiment with shape, color and texture. Park believed that concentrating on concepts and abstraction drew attention to the personality and life of the painter rather than the painting. He focused instead on the physical practise of painting.

"I believe that we are living at a time that overemphasises the need of newness, of furthering concepts," he explained in the late 1960s.

Diebenkorn began his distinctly personal and geometric Ocean Park series, based on aerial landscapes and named after the Santa Monica community where he had his studio.

Abstract Expressionism - I LOVE THIS! The abstract expressionists - also called the New York School, after the city where most of them lived and worked - came to artistic maturity in teh late 1940s, when the centre of avant-garde activity shifted to the United States from Europe. In their typically large abstractions, these artists delved into the unconscious, both individual and collective, through either expansive, heroic gestures (the gestural expressionists) or broad ares of colour (the colour-field expressionists). Most abstract expressionists had emerged out of the 1930s social realism and then were strongly influenced by European surrealists, many of whom exhibited or lived in exile in the United States during and after World War II. The New York School artists also explored mythic, and so-called primitive art as sources for expressing primal instincts.

Mark Rothko!!! White Center, 1957

Jackson Pollock - Black and White Number 20, 1951

The works of Jackson Pollokc and Franz Kline are often considered the epitome of gestural expressionism. In his signature "drip paintings" Pollock used a stick dipped into cans of paint to drip (and sometimes fling) his colours onto canvases laid on the floor, arriving at layered skeins of paint. Ironically, Kline whose black-and-white slashes appear spontaneous, often made numerous small prepartory drawings for his canvases. mark Rothko's paintings exemplify the colour-field expressionists' fascination with the emotional and visual power of colour. For Rothko, colour was key to a spiritual realm, evoking transcendental truths inexpressible through recognisable imagery.

David Smith was foremost among the welder-sculptors who came to prominence in the U.S. after World War II. Following the example set by Julio Gonzalez and Pablo Picasso, who created welded-steel sculptures as early as 1928, the Americans constructed their work directly out of iron and steel sheets and wires rather than employing the traditional method of casting.

This was HUGE! I didn't think it'd be this expansive. Rober Motherwell - Elegy to the Spanish Republic 100, 1963-1975.

Colour-field... In opposition to the emotional energy and gestures of abstract expressionism, colour-field painting intially appears cool and austre. Starting in the late 1950s, a generation of painters, including Helen Frankenthaler and Morris Louis, avoided individual gestures and recognisable imagery. These artists favoured an expressive use of flat, areas of colour, which, along with the physical shape of the canvas, they considered the essence of visual abstraction. Frankenthaler and Lous stained their canvases with superimposed layers of transparent colour. Deeply expressive, the work presented abstraction as an end in itself.

"A really good picture looks as if it happened at once," Frankenthaler explained, "though I think very often it takes ten of those overlaboured efforts to produce one really beautiful wrist motion that is synchronised with your head and heart... and therefore looks as if it were born in a minute."

Josef Albers - Homage to the Square, 1951-1955.

René Magritte - The Treachery of Images (This Is Not a Pipe) (La Trahison des Images) [Ceci N'est Pas une Pipe]), 1929.

Piet Mondrian - Composition in White, Red and Yellow, 1936.

Joan Miro - Eagle and Woman in the Night (L'Aigle et la femme dans la nuit), 1938.

André Breton - Untitled, 1950.

Marcel Duchamp - L.H.O.O.Q !!! 1919. It's a cheap postcare of da Vinci's Mona Lisa on which Duchamp drew a moustache and beard and appended the title. It's a pun since the pronounciation of the letters in French form the sentence "Elle a chaud au cul." LIterally this translates into... "She has heat in her arse." Duchamp loosely translated this in an interview as "There is fire down below." Coincidentally, the term "avoir chaud au cul" means "to be horny."

(Un client que je vois régulièrement depuis près de deux ans arrive à la caisse...)
- Bonjour! (sourire)
-...
- Ça va? (sourire)
-...
- Avez-vous besoin d'un sac avec ça?
- ...
- Avez-vous besoin d'un sac avec ça? (regard dans les yeux)
- I don't speak french.
- Avez-vous besoin d'un sac? (je prends le sac, et le pointe en terminant ma phrase, de sorte que même un idiot aurait compris ce qu'est un sac, peu importe la langue)
- I don't speak french.
- Avez-vous besoin de la facture? (je prends la facture, et la lui montre en la secouant)
- I don't speak french.
- Bonne soirée monsieur, et bonne Saint-Jean! Bonne fête du QUÉBEC!
- ...

Bienvenue à Ville dans Saint-Laurent, dans le merveilleux Québec anglicisé de tous ceux qui se dépêchent de répondre en anglais aux immigrants et qui leurs enlèvent ainsi toute nécessité (ou même tout désir) d'apprendre notre langue.

Bienvenue dans le Québec du futur, où on vous regarde avec de gros yeux et comme si vous descendiez de la lune parce que vous parlez français.

Bonne Saint-Jean aux vrais Québécois, c'est-à-dire tous ceux - peu importe leur origine - qui sont conscients de notre responsabilité culturelle et linguistique et qui se respectent assez pour refuser de parler anglais, que ce soit au travail, chez des amis, ou n'importe où sur le territoire du Québec!

À vous tous, je vous lève mon turban!

Et pour les autres, comme l'écrit Akakia, tout va pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes:

Pas de problème sous le ciel bleu fleurdelysé du Québec puisqu'il n'y a que le maire de Hérouxville qui ressort désorienté de ce constat très savant. Puisque la « crise des accommodements » (sic) sort des bureaux des médias qui ont monté l'affaire en épingle. Puisque le Parlement de Québec a décidé de garder son crucifix au-dessus du trône (tout un gain !). Puisque les Canadiens français forment le peuple le plus bonasse et intellectuellement le plus paresseux du monde et qu'ils attendent tout bonnement de noyer leur chagrin, bien assis sur leur caisse de 24 devant le feu de la Saint-Jean, sans nourrir d'appréhension pour le lendemain.

Dormez, surtout, continuez de dormir! Nous sommes en train de disparaître, mais, surtout, continuez de dormir!

My name is Jeremy Desthieux. I'm a french student in Finance and banking. I go to Seoul for my first year in master Finance and Banking.

 I will be happy to discover with you South of Korea.

Good travel.

Unfortunately the photos of the Japanese art didn't turn out as clear as the other ones. While we were viewing it, Krislyn spotted this really cute toddler and if turned out that he was French... so she followed his family around because everyone knows how obsessed she is with France.

Anyway, I am SERIOUSLY too tire to even think so I apologise for not properly labelling these following photos or explaining which forms of art they are classified under... Just enjoy (like I did) :)

End of LACMA Part 1 ... Latino inspired art of Los Angeles. FYI, there are over 100 photos. There's not a lot considering I originally took over 200.

My roots are not in Elsass. I don't speak this language and I want no learn it. My ancestors spoke many languages so my language is plural. I speak french for to have grew up with french environment, but - sometimes - I say a locution in Yiddish, a sentence in German, a word in Hebrew and a proverb in Karaim. I'm plural like every french speakers, like France.

So, why the Senate and the French Academy have condemned the inclusion of linguistic diversity in the Constitution? By intolerance? No, I don't think that. By ignorance? No, they are smart people. So why? Because they are afraid this plurality broke the one and the only Republic when diversity and regional languages could enrich the nation.

I write this article in stranger language to demonstrate that English - the intimate enemy of French's defenders - could be undermine me if the obscurantism makes french a dead language. If I write my novels in French, my inspiration come from the plurality and the several influences that make me up a writer.

For the last three years, I've been invited to this bonfire held every June but I always turned them down because

1. Self-conscious of my body
2. People = scary
3. Always busy with some other thing

But this time I didn't really have an excuse. It was enjoyable. Nothing much to say about it really... you had to be there to understand. WW broke her cellphone by the way when she took her shorts off in the ocean forgetting that her phone was in her pocket.

WW & Krislyn... looking gorgeous and photogenic as always.

WW took a photo of me (or rather several)... Here goes:

Bad picture composition... umbrella? Really, I wasn't paying attention. Does the angle of my arm and the shadow on my stomach make me look super huge? Today was a really bad day when it came to physical self-esteem. Why can't I be thin? Why can't I be bones?

Even though I wanted to go in the water so badly, I refrained from doing so because I was totally embarrassed of my body. I didn't eat anything today... just to prepare for this interaction. I wish it didn't have to be like this. But I don't want to end tonight on a bad note... I watched the sunset alone close to the ocean while everyone was by the bonfire. It made me feel calm.

The truth is, my ambition stands strong. I still have time to make something out of myself right?

Anyway, today being the last day of school, there was much to celebrate... including my mum's birthday. It was actually an enjoyable affair. I felt remorseful and regretful for neglecting her. I haven't spent time with her in a long time. I hope she was happy today. I hope she's happy... everyday. Later in the evening (tonight that is), I went out with Jeremy. Another French friend of mine... chemical engineer... vacationed here for the past 3 weeks or so. He's flying off tonight so we had dinner. Dinner! Amazing feat right? ... I tried hard and as I'm typing this, I don't have any urges or "bad thoughts."

The story goes that I met him at a French restaurant so tonight I thought I'd share a part of my culture with him. We went out to Tantalum which is an Indonesia/Southeast Asian fusion restaurant.

The owner of the restaurant travels to Indonesia every month (or something close to that) and he brings in beautiful art pieces to add to the authenticity of the place. It's amazing what the subtle changes does to make the atmosphere seem so... real. Honestly, it's one of the most perfect places to socialise since the environment itself is a great conversation piece.

No drinking for me tonight; gotta drive home safely. ;)

There was a wide variety of people there. The restaurant is basically "broken apart" into little sections. Bar... waterfront lounge... main eating area... private reservation spots... and patio sets outside on the balcony. There's also an upstairs and the waitress that was serving us told us that they had plans of expanding that into a sushi bar of sorts.

Very simple lighting yet very efficient. I love how this place is decorated.

The whole restaurant overlooked a dock and the view was marvellous. At a certain time to help with the coherence of the mood, music and food, they pulled down the blinds and it felt like a very chic club. :) Oh! When the DJ came in one of the first songs he played was "Shadow of Ourselves." Why am I so excited? 1) It's in French!!! 2) Reminds me of Jake 3) J'adore Thievery Corporation!

No I wasn't scouting for hot guys tonight since I already had one sitting right across the table from me. Although this really weird old geezer came up to me when Jeremy was in the bathroom and started to make conversation. Let's just say I came up with a very creative way to deter him.

Time to order.

His pineapple juice. I wanted to nibble on the pineapple so badly but I knew that it wouldn't be a bad choice and I didn't want to trigger anything bad tonight.

Lettuce wraps with chicken filling and some sweet sauce and sambal on the side. He ate the sambal and his mouth was on fire. It was hilarious. Pauvre Jeremy!

The menu changed a little (although this is my first time here)... apparently the food used to be more authentically Indonesian but well... businesses have to cater to the clientele. So this is suppose to be satay... at least a version of it. Beef and lobster I think. Jeremy said that it was extremely tender and such a shame I was vegeterian.

Coastal Seafood Plate. Basically a mixture of seafood and the noodles resembles Laksa.

Halibut with "Asian Broccoli" ... that's what they called it. I don't think this combination was particularly tasteful thought. Veggies were a little overcooked and didn't really compliment the fish. Western meat... asian veggies... could use some work. Jeremy gobbled it down anyway.

No I didn't quietly sip water the whole time! :P I had No-meat (basically a bowl of veggie burger, black beans, tofu, English peas, chestnuts) with Jasmine-flavoured white rice. The serving was seriously huge and I only managed to eat half of it. And I'm going to shamelessly admit the rice tasted awesome! OMG CARBS TASTE GOOD. But yea... it was fragrant and grainy... and everything I missed about rice.

Bathroom break. And after I came back I realised my French professor for next year was at the table right next to us. It was weird... but we ended up having a conversation in French and I felt a little lost since Jeremy is French and Madame Fine is French-Canadian. At least I'm getting an early start on her good side... ;)

Rich people of Long Beach/Newport Beach I wish I had a boat too!!

Water was seriously cold as we dipped our feet in. Shhhh we werent' suppose to do that :oops:

Au revoir Tantalum, Au revoir Jeremy...

God... I would have never imagined today would have turned out like this. Off Jeremy went to the airport... probably won't see him for a long while again. Now I'm back home alone... but I feel okay about it. I really do. :)

J'ai trouvé quelque chose d'intéressant dernièrement sur le HOU-HOU BLOG. Et je vous en fais ici une libre traduction, puisque ce blogueur semble croire que les internautes francophones sont tous, sans exception, à l'aise avec l'anglais...

Les résultats de divers tests réalisés avec la technologie d'imagerie du cerveau indiquent clairement que l'orientation sexuelle est une caractéristique biologiquement déterminée.

Les tests révèlent que chez les homosexuels, les structures principales qui régissent l'émotion, l'humeur, l'anxiété et l'agressivité ressemblent beaucoup à celles des personnes du sexe opposé.

Les résultats prouvent que les facteurs biologiques aident à déterminer l'orientation sexuelle et qu'ils laissent une signature neuroanatomique.

Pour les sources, elles sont chez lui.

Non, mais, vraiment, vive la science! Un autre point de gagné contre la stupidité religieuse qui rend l'homosexualité amorale... Il n'y a pas de libre arbitre qui tienne dans le comportement sexuel de ces gens, ils ne font que vivre selon leur biologie. La même chose pour les humains hétérosexuels qui, parfois, trouvent réconfort sensuel et sexuel chez des personnes du même sexe. Sans oublier les gens bisexuels, bien sûr! C'est un besoin biologique, émotionnel, il faut le combler. Au diable la morale!

Et même les animaux ne sont pas en reste. J'ai deux spécimens de chat mâles chez moi qui font l'amour (ou plutôt miment faire l'amour) de temps en temps. Étant donné qu'ils sont castrés depuis longtemps, il serait très difficile de présumer sur le pourquoi, mais qu'est-ce que ça change : ce sont des gays-chats, voilà!

Humains et animaux, même combat!

Ça me fait penser, assez en diagonal, à une histoire relatée par l'ami Le Détracteur Constructif, au sujet d'un lionceau apprivoisé et qu'on retourne dans la nature. Allez lire ça, pleurez comme je l'ai fait, et revenez ici après avoir bien remercié le blogueur pour sa recherche et sa bonté.

C'est fait? (Sinon vous manquez vraiment quelque chose!) Après ça, qui peut bien croire en la suprématie de l'humanité pour cause d'histoires tordues comme l'Âme, dans une optique religieusement doctrinale, qui relaye les animaux à de simples mécanismes biologiques sans plus d'importance que l'utilité qu'on leur fait porter...

Si nous avons une âme, ils en ont une. Mais je crois qu'ils n'en ont pas, tout comme nous. S'il reste quelque chose de nous après notre mort, cela serait sûrement de l'énergie liée, à force d'avoir été si longtemps dans un même espace. Alors, je ne vois pas pourquoi ça serait différent avec les animaux, quoi que soit la vérité.

(Photo : gruntzookie)

et que le texte n'est pas mal non plus :

And when you're running for cover
And you feel the sky falling down upon you
And when it feels like forever
Since you've seen the face of someone who loves you

Then one is all that you need
All that you need to keep you warm
Is all that you need
All that you need to move you on
It's all that you need
All you need is

One
One word to fill a room of silence
A hand to offer you some guidance
Yeah - All you need is
One
A moment long enough to notice
That everything's stepped into focus
Yeah - All it takes is one

And when you've running from questions
And it seems like uncertainty controls you
And when you looking for answers
In the eyes of somebody who knows you

Then one is all that you need
All that you need to keep you warm
All that you need
All that you need to move you on
Is all that you need
All that you need to get you home
All that you need
All you need is one

Peace and love,
Isabelle Saint-Pierre

Awhile ago, Neil asked me if this was my dad. To answer, no he's not. He was just another one of Mum's ex-boyfriends from a life that seems so far away now. He was (in my opinion) the best out of all of them. I found him about a few months ago on the Internet. I wish I had sent him a card or a letter just to thank him for the impact he has had on my life. But I'm afraid he won't remember who I am anymore.

I wanted to post a photo of my biological father... but I am still in the process of looking for them. Before I moved here, I couldn't bring all 15+ albums of childhood photos and only last summer did I organise them into ziplocs and packed them to take back with me. I am still trying to find photos of my dad. I have so many of all the Could-Have-Been-Fathers.

The earthquake in Chengdu happened on the 12th of May. I wrote to my father, his wife & his sisters about 3 weeks ago. No one has answered me.

Happy Father's Day... Dad? ... I wonder if you're still alive.