Queen Esther

my boyfriend says maybe we’ll go to paris to celebrate our anniversary. it’s too much of a cliche to be romantic about the trip. in a way, the gesture/suggestion is enough because of all of what paris means in the collective unconsciousness of the world. a part of me doesn’t want to go and have a lousy time and wreck my sweet illusion of paris, beautiful paris. but i want the loveliness of being with him in a foreign place. and i know that somehow being with him will be enough.

i want to see what the big deal is.

i want to stand on the international date line. i want to be in yesterday and today simultaneously. i wonder what that would feel like? i’m sure that there are other colder places in the world to pull this off but fiji sounds idyllic. someone could take a picture of me straddling time itself, and i could work on my tan at the same time.

when i was a little kid, before there were power rangers and care baars and bugs bunny and popeye was on tv when i came home from school, that used to happen all the time in cartoons. maybe that’s where i got the idea.

for a week and i fell in love with the place. i couldn’t believe how wonderful it was and i could totally see myself living there, if only to have a cool place to create. everyone was so nice to me, i found myself trying to learn and speak french (something i promised myself i wouldn’t do). it was relaxing and fun, the way i always imagined paris would be—until i went through paris and had to deal with parisians. i even met interesting people and found some amazing vintage clothes that still garner compliments from complete strangers all the time.

i’m very much looking forward to another visit.

i love austin. it’s lush, pretty, southern and warm—healthy, good-looking open-minded populace, lots to see and do, great food, and of course live music everywhere.