Next time you get an invitation to the circus, be sure to stop and verify. That's what I'll do next time. And we're not talking date or time. Rather, pause to ask the question : will we be watching or participating ?
Last night my roomate Annie and I had an invitation to le cirque here in Beaune. Or at least that's what we understood. When we walked out of our appartment to meet a French friend, we were dressed in what I assumed to be normal evening/circus going attire. One look from the friend and I knew something was not quite right.
"You don't have any other affaires (clothes/things) to bring ?" she asked us. An umbrella ? Popcorn ? What does one bring to le cirque in France ?
"Comme quoi par exemple, what do you mean ?" I asked.
"You know, anything that you'd be comfortable in. If you'll be participating and all". Hold the phone. Participating ?
Several more worried/confused glances, explications, prodding/convincing followed. Not wanting to be rude, my roomate and I headed back upstairs to change into... appropriate attire. Which I decided was leggings and a loose t-shirt.
We headed out for the second time, admittedly more apprehensive about the whole thing. I decided worse comes to worst I would just watch, and participate if I wanted to. Yea.
We walked about 2 blocks away from our appartment to an old gymnasium across the street, which would have gone completely unnoticed had we not been invited. We walked in, early for our class, and said hello to the people there. The room was full of mats, trampolines, juggling balls, costumes, unicycles, wires, ropes, and hoops. I felt like I had walked into Gymboree (had I ever been) or a theatre dressing room. Annie and I continued to look at each other nervously, with no idea what to expect, as people poured into the room.
When everyone had arrived and said their hellos and exchanged their bis we all got into a big circle and started our warm-up. Which consisted of running around in a chain of people 1. weaving in between people 2. hopping over people 3. leap-frogging over people 4. running underneath a bridge of legs(forward and backwards I might add. I might also add that I realize how awkward that phrase sounds, 'bridge of legs' but can't really think of a better way to describe it). The warm-up in itself was enough to have me routing my escape, but luckily it got better.
The rest of the (bizarre) evening was a time capsule back into my years of gymnastics as a pre teen. Somersaults, handstands, cartwheels (roues in French), roundoffs. And when we switched groups and went over to the trampoline, we did straddle jumps, vaulting, and front flips. Which I found out (to my delight) I can still pull off. It was without a doubt, one of the strangest athletic experiences I've had, and one I was not in the least expecting. Oh le cirque.
At the end of the night the director asked Annie and I if we would like to come back and join the club- they gather Tuesday and Wednesday nights to practice, and generally have several performances "des spectacles" throughout the year. We said we would think about it.
You never know, right ? I guess if one Monday morning I wake up and decide I'm absolutely sick of teaching middle school English, I could always run off (or down the street) and join the circus.
Was your Monday evening any bit as eventful ?
alli
::a collection of stories, curiosities, favorite things, and a never-ending life list::
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
My favorites : Longchamps
One of the things you'll see me with nearly every single day :
My always overloaded-full-to-the-brim black Longchamp tote. Or possibly my tinier but still packed-to-the-max red tote. Simple, goes with everything, pratique, as would say these Frenchies over here.
One day I'll buy a more elaborate purse, but for now I'm completely content with my simple one. Might expand my color collection though, that would never hurt... : )
What are your trademarks ?
alli
Longchamp
My always overloaded-full-to-the-brim black Longchamp tote. Or possibly my tinier but still packed-to-the-max red tote. Simple, goes with everything, pratique, as would say these Frenchies over here.
One day I'll buy a more elaborate purse, but for now I'm completely content with my simple one. Might expand my color collection though, that would never hurt... : )
What are your trademarks ?
alli
Longchamp
Monday, September 28, 2009
My weekend...
A few things I'm remembering from my weekend :
A Parisian lunch in the 6ième with a lovely lady taking Paris by storm!
Weaving through the rooms of Le Grand Palais, admiring Renoir.
A Parisian lunch in the 6ième with a lovely lady taking Paris by storm!
Weaving through the rooms of Le Grand Palais, admiring Renoir.
The deliciously clear and warm September days.
French family dinners.
The comfort of a country farmhouse, creaky stairs, comfortable beds, and baguettes delivered to your door.
The energy of one extraordinary chien, Coca.
A wonderfully simple and elegant French bride surrounded by her friends and family in an église pittoresque in the middle of the countryside.
Champagne, cold gazpacho, foie gras pattiseries, noix de st. jacques, fresh asparagus, filet mignon, brie and a crisp salad, more champagne, chocolate cake, coffee and cream pastries piled high in a wedding pièce montée.
A lazy Sunday, spent laying under the September sun and drinking coffee with excellent conversations.
This weekend Stéphane and I were invited to the wedding of one of his college roomates. We spent the weekend at his parents house in a tiny village of considerably less than 100 people, Hannogne St-Rémy. Saturday we dressed (me, in regrettably high heels) and drove down bumpy skinny roads through the French region known as the Ardennes (think rural Michigan) to an even tinier village called Vaux Champagne. It was fairly easy to find the church, up on a hill with the houses draped down in a spiral.
The ceremony was simple and beautiful, and afterwards we were invited to the bride's parent's house for le vin d'honneur, champagne and hors d'oevres. The house was also easy to find, as we walked down the hill from the church and through the open gates of the farmhouse. We congratulated the newlyweds and introduced ourselves to the many who came to congratulate the new couple.
Two hours later, after hobbling up a stadium-like set of bleachers for a picture with the couple and their family, we drove to another village, Vitry, for the fabulous dinner I mentioned above. When we left in the wee hours of the morning to drive home, I felt like I wouldn't be able to eat for days !
It was so fun to experience my first French wedding. It was fairly similar to the American ones I've been too, but with a couple differences. The témoins, bridesmaids and groomsmen, were not wearing matching dresses or suits. There was no announcement of 'you may kiss the bride' after the ceremony- but rather applause when the couple exited the church with the family and friends waiting for them outside. There weren't as many games at the reception and certainly no garter-searching : o We spent 3 hours at the dinner table instead of under 1, and there was more champagne than I'd ever seen in one room ! It was a great experience, and a great opportunity to meet and talk with some very nice people.
How were your weekends ? Any exciting things going on this week ?
I'm back in Beaune, and going to observe my first classes tomorrow before I start teaching next week. Wish me luck!
alli
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday stories.
Hi friends !
Hope you are all having a wonderful Sunday, reading the paper, drinking tea, hiking in the crisp fall weather...
When I started Minstinguett, one of my ideas for a feature was something along the lines of 'Sunday Stories'. I wanted a creative blog that was a mixture of things- inspirations from all around, daily adventures, as well as an outlet for some of my travel stories. Having a blog for my stories allows me to write about them (pushes me to write about them) but in a more casual way. I'll try to vary the stories from week to week and hopefully I won't get behind on my posting schedule. As always, I love comments ! Are you writing down your own adventures ?
I'll start with a story- a moment- that I experienced a little under 2 1/2 years ago, that I still think about often. It was at the end of my year studying abroad in Nantes and Paris during my junior year of college.
My feet knew the path well, luckily. I didn't quite know how to feel- it was as if I was seeing everything for the first time instead of the last. I turned the corner and headed up Avenue Reille, heading to my favorite spot in the 13th arrondissment in Paris, my home that spring. I passed the tiny presserie which hardly seemed big enough to offer dry cleaning. The 'France-Louisiane Franco-Américanie' drifted by on my left, with the same man I always saw, sitting behind his dark 'bureau' surrounded by yellowing photos and nostalgic photos of New Orleans decades ago. It was surely one of the most niche-specific offices on the block, with a small exhibit and exchanges with New Orleans and Parisian residents.
The trees lining my path were barren and cold when I arrived in Febraury. On my weekly runs I watched them turn furry with excitement for spring and the warm months ahead. I could almost hear them sigh with relief as their bright leaves slowly unfolded in the early Paris sunshine. Now, on the last day of May, the thick branches belonged to full trees, shading the sidewalk and the neighborhood residents. My running shoes were already packed and zipped in my suitcase; today I was walking, with a hope that it would slow things down if only a little bit.
I reached the end of my street and tried to memorize the view of the entrance to Parc Montsouris. My park. With it's majestic gates guarding the entrance to the green lawn, the calm lake and the playground for adorably dressed Parisian toddlers. A mother pushed her daughter in her pousette through the gate as her son followed eagerly behind, if only slightly distracted by the avion he was zipping through the air, his lips buzzing like an enginge. "Allez, tu viens là ?" the mother demanded, and the boy zipped ahead of his mother and sister into the park.
Après tout, it seemend to make sense in a perfect way, that my last day would be filled with nothing particularly extraordinaire. Just my normal Parisian days, falling into place in my surroundings.
Even though my feet kept a calm and steady pace, my thoughts were anything but relaxed. There was a certain relief and excitement to be heading home. But at the moment it was overshadowed by the absolute fear that nothing would ever be the same. That this lovely, comfortable, exciting but ordinary adventure I'd led in France for the past 9 months would disappear completely once I left. An illusion. Something I would have to convince myself had truly happened. Once I left France, my time there would become somewhat of a snowglobe- something I could observe, but never again be inside of. No longer a participant, but a permanent bystander. Just the thought of not being able to slip back into this world I had been living in made me sick with panic. If this was going to be the reality, honestly I'd rather not leave.
I sat down on one of the green flaky benched where I'd spent so many afternoons. Stretching after a couple loops through the park. My journal on my lap with my pen scrawling excitedly across the page. Watching the old couple across from me walk casually around the lake, elbows linked.
The hardest part about leaving a place is the fear and recognition that things will be different when you return. The fear of being left out could almost be strong enough to keep me standing still. And even if I was lucky enough to come back to France, back to Paris, how could it ever be better than it had during this past year ? A year of traveling, discovering, living passionately.
I wasn't doing well with these fears- it just felt like the couldn't be overcome, even as I continued to hope desperately for a solution.
My back slid against the bench and I looked up towards the blue late morning sky peppered with clouds. I'd done the same thing countless times, admiring the contours of an illuminated and patchy sky. The shape of the cloud I saw in front of me shook me from my daydream with a jolt. It was so familiar. But then, it couldn't possible be. People talk about coincidences, about symbols; messages meant to be- but did that ever really happen ?
As I sat there in awe, the anxiety I'd been trying to sort through started rolling down my cheeks.
There was, however, a smile through those tears, as I stared upwards at the puffy form of France twinkling down on me. That silly cloud gave me more comfort than any lecture or self pep-talk ever could. Yes, things would change, but that was the utter excitement of it all. I would never forget France, even if I tried. And that afternoon I was assured, france would never forget me either.
Hope you are all having a wonderful Sunday, reading the paper, drinking tea, hiking in the crisp fall weather...
When I started Minstinguett, one of my ideas for a feature was something along the lines of 'Sunday Stories'. I wanted a creative blog that was a mixture of things- inspirations from all around, daily adventures, as well as an outlet for some of my travel stories. Having a blog for my stories allows me to write about them (pushes me to write about them) but in a more casual way. I'll try to vary the stories from week to week and hopefully I won't get behind on my posting schedule. As always, I love comments ! Are you writing down your own adventures ?
I'll start with a story- a moment- that I experienced a little under 2 1/2 years ago, that I still think about often. It was at the end of my year studying abroad in Nantes and Paris during my junior year of college.
My feet knew the path well, luckily. I didn't quite know how to feel- it was as if I was seeing everything for the first time instead of the last. I turned the corner and headed up Avenue Reille, heading to my favorite spot in the 13th arrondissment in Paris, my home that spring. I passed the tiny presserie which hardly seemed big enough to offer dry cleaning. The 'France-Louisiane Franco-Américanie' drifted by on my left, with the same man I always saw, sitting behind his dark 'bureau' surrounded by yellowing photos and nostalgic photos of New Orleans decades ago. It was surely one of the most niche-specific offices on the block, with a small exhibit and exchanges with New Orleans and Parisian residents.
The trees lining my path were barren and cold when I arrived in Febraury. On my weekly runs I watched them turn furry with excitement for spring and the warm months ahead. I could almost hear them sigh with relief as their bright leaves slowly unfolded in the early Paris sunshine. Now, on the last day of May, the thick branches belonged to full trees, shading the sidewalk and the neighborhood residents. My running shoes were already packed and zipped in my suitcase; today I was walking, with a hope that it would slow things down if only a little bit.
I reached the end of my street and tried to memorize the view of the entrance to Parc Montsouris. My park. With it's majestic gates guarding the entrance to the green lawn, the calm lake and the playground for adorably dressed Parisian toddlers. A mother pushed her daughter in her pousette through the gate as her son followed eagerly behind, if only slightly distracted by the avion he was zipping through the air, his lips buzzing like an enginge. "Allez, tu viens là ?" the mother demanded, and the boy zipped ahead of his mother and sister into the park.
Après tout, it seemend to make sense in a perfect way, that my last day would be filled with nothing particularly extraordinaire. Just my normal Parisian days, falling into place in my surroundings.
Even though my feet kept a calm and steady pace, my thoughts were anything but relaxed. There was a certain relief and excitement to be heading home. But at the moment it was overshadowed by the absolute fear that nothing would ever be the same. That this lovely, comfortable, exciting but ordinary adventure I'd led in France for the past 9 months would disappear completely once I left. An illusion. Something I would have to convince myself had truly happened. Once I left France, my time there would become somewhat of a snowglobe- something I could observe, but never again be inside of. No longer a participant, but a permanent bystander. Just the thought of not being able to slip back into this world I had been living in made me sick with panic. If this was going to be the reality, honestly I'd rather not leave.
I sat down on one of the green flaky benched where I'd spent so many afternoons. Stretching after a couple loops through the park. My journal on my lap with my pen scrawling excitedly across the page. Watching the old couple across from me walk casually around the lake, elbows linked.
The hardest part about leaving a place is the fear and recognition that things will be different when you return. The fear of being left out could almost be strong enough to keep me standing still. And even if I was lucky enough to come back to France, back to Paris, how could it ever be better than it had during this past year ? A year of traveling, discovering, living passionately.
I wasn't doing well with these fears- it just felt like the couldn't be overcome, even as I continued to hope desperately for a solution.
My back slid against the bench and I looked up towards the blue late morning sky peppered with clouds. I'd done the same thing countless times, admiring the contours of an illuminated and patchy sky. The shape of the cloud I saw in front of me shook me from my daydream with a jolt. It was so familiar. But then, it couldn't possible be. People talk about coincidences, about symbols; messages meant to be- but did that ever really happen ?
As I sat there in awe, the anxiety I'd been trying to sort through started rolling down my cheeks.
There was, however, a smile through those tears, as I stared upwards at the puffy form of France twinkling down on me. That silly cloud gave me more comfort than any lecture or self pep-talk ever could. Yes, things would change, but that was the utter excitement of it all. I would never forget France, even if I tried. And that afternoon I was assured, france would never forget me either.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Now now.
Hi friends !
Hope this lovely Tuesday morning finds you doing well. It's afternoon over here for me, and I just enjoyed a lovely banana and nutella mid-afternoon snack to tide me over.
I'll explain a little bit more about what it is I'm doing this year. I'll begin last year, when I was blogging at Sens-cerely Yours, and working as an English Assistant at Lycée Janot in Sens. I knew after finishing college that I wanted to find a way back to France, and working as an English Assistant was really the perfect way to do that. I was paid to work 12 hours a week with high school students, helping them improve their English. It was a challenging job at times, but one I really enjoyed. I was a bit surprised as I had never in my life seriously considered being a teacher. What teachers say about it being a rewarding job is completely true- even if students weren't always excited about coming to class, seeing and hearing their progress was something I looked forward too everyday.
I quickly fell in love with all things French again, and by January I knew I wanted to reapply to be an assistant for this year as well. As is the French way, getting a response takes 3x longer than it should and involves 14 more people than neccesary. I was biting my nails in anxiety and frustration come June, trying to find out if my contract had been renewed and I had a job guarantee for the fall. It all settled into place though (as things often have a way of doing, I've learned) and I had a letter in my inbox the day before I left France, that I would be welcomed back in the Fall.
There were a few changes though- this year I'll be teaching at two middle schools instead of high school. And I'll be living in a town that I mentioned yesterday, called Beaune. It's about 200 kilometers from Sens, but I'm already sure I'll be visiting there often. Or hosting visitors : )
The town is slightly smaller than Sens at 22,000 people, but you certainly wouldn't think that. It's a fairly big stop on the touristy wine route that snakes through Burgundy. Each time I've walked the skinny streets into town I've heard Germans, English, and Americans, discussing the latest winery visit, totes in hand with bottles clanging softly inside.
The weather has been gloriously sunny for the past few days, which always makes adjusting to a new city that much easier. I'll be meeting my colocatrice in a few hours, another American assistant who will be living with me for the year. And tomorrow morning I'll roll my suitcase to la gare and hop on a train to Sens. This weekend, instead of being surrounded by the pinot noir grapes surrounding Beaune, I'll be up in the Champagne region, to celebrate a wedding on Saturday. I'm excited, it will be my first French wedding experience. I'll be sure to keep you posted !
Happy tuesday !
alli
Hope this lovely Tuesday morning finds you doing well. It's afternoon over here for me, and I just enjoyed a lovely banana and nutella mid-afternoon snack to tide me over.
I'll explain a little bit more about what it is I'm doing this year. I'll begin last year, when I was blogging at Sens-cerely Yours, and working as an English Assistant at Lycée Janot in Sens. I knew after finishing college that I wanted to find a way back to France, and working as an English Assistant was really the perfect way to do that. I was paid to work 12 hours a week with high school students, helping them improve their English. It was a challenging job at times, but one I really enjoyed. I was a bit surprised as I had never in my life seriously considered being a teacher. What teachers say about it being a rewarding job is completely true- even if students weren't always excited about coming to class, seeing and hearing their progress was something I looked forward too everyday.
I quickly fell in love with all things French again, and by January I knew I wanted to reapply to be an assistant for this year as well. As is the French way, getting a response takes 3x longer than it should and involves 14 more people than neccesary. I was biting my nails in anxiety and frustration come June, trying to find out if my contract had been renewed and I had a job guarantee for the fall. It all settled into place though (as things often have a way of doing, I've learned) and I had a letter in my inbox the day before I left France, that I would be welcomed back in the Fall.
There were a few changes though- this year I'll be teaching at two middle schools instead of high school. And I'll be living in a town that I mentioned yesterday, called Beaune. It's about 200 kilometers from Sens, but I'm already sure I'll be visiting there often. Or hosting visitors : )
The town is slightly smaller than Sens at 22,000 people, but you certainly wouldn't think that. It's a fairly big stop on the touristy wine route that snakes through Burgundy. Each time I've walked the skinny streets into town I've heard Germans, English, and Americans, discussing the latest winery visit, totes in hand with bottles clanging softly inside.
The weather has been gloriously sunny for the past few days, which always makes adjusting to a new city that much easier. I'll be meeting my colocatrice in a few hours, another American assistant who will be living with me for the year. And tomorrow morning I'll roll my suitcase to la gare and hop on a train to Sens. This weekend, instead of being surrounded by the pinot noir grapes surrounding Beaune, I'll be up in the Champagne region, to celebrate a wedding on Saturday. I'm excited, it will be my first French wedding experience. I'll be sure to keep you posted !
Happy tuesday !
alli
Monday, September 21, 2009
I'm here !
Hi friends !
Sorry for the looong absence. I'm over in France now, getting all settled in my new town, Beaune, and hopping between here and Sens. Things are fairly chaotic, as they always are when moving to a new place. But I'm making do and just chugging through my to-do list ! I don't yet have reliable internet or a cell phone, but when I do there will be many more posts.
For now, take a look at the city I'm living in ! It's quite charming : )
à+
alli
Sorry for the looong absence. I'm over in France now, getting all settled in my new town, Beaune, and hopping between here and Sens. Things are fairly chaotic, as they always are when moving to a new place. But I'm making do and just chugging through my to-do list ! I don't yet have reliable internet or a cell phone, but when I do there will be many more posts.
For now, take a look at the city I'm living in ! It's quite charming : )
à+
alli
Monday, September 14, 2009
Life list: learn how to cook.
Alright, so this is a fairly extended Life List item. I'd like to think that one morning I'll wake up and realize that I've learned to cook though....
I'm not a complete dullard in the kitchen, but I'll be the first one to admit that it doesn't seem to come naturally to me. At least not yet.
In the meantime, I'm taking baby steps with recipes. One of those baby steps was this weekend, when I cooked some scones.
If they look a little small and flat to you, you're absolutely right. I think next time that can be avoided by making the dough a bit thicker when I'm cutting out the scones, and flattening it with my hands rather than a rolling pin.
Here's the recipe, if you're on a 'learn-to-cook' quest like me, or if you just want something delicious to eat at breakfast, lunch or dinner (they're fabulous drizzled with honey!)
2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter (they're also good with 1/2 butter!)
1/2 cup whipping cream
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
Set the oven to 375 while mixing ingredients. Scone batches will be baked for 11-15 minutes
Mix dry ingredients in a bowl.
Soften butter (do not melt) and cut and smash into flour.
Add wet ingredients.
Mush together in bowl/on counter
Roll dough about 1/2 inch thick and cookie cut into circles (I used a tiny glass cup for this, very useful).
Some other tips:
Putting a sheet of parchment paper between the scones and the baking sheet with exponentially decrease your clean up time. And the time spent swearing and ripping scones apart because they're stuck to everything.
I wasn't aware of this at recipe time, but another trick is to brush some of the left over whipping cream on top of the scones right before they go in the oven.
What recipes did you start with when you started to cook? Are you in the middle of learning like me? Feel free to share recipes!
Happy Monday everyone.
I'm not a complete dullard in the kitchen, but I'll be the first one to admit that it doesn't seem to come naturally to me. At least not yet.
In the meantime, I'm taking baby steps with recipes. One of those baby steps was this weekend, when I cooked some scones.
If they look a little small and flat to you, you're absolutely right. I think next time that can be avoided by making the dough a bit thicker when I'm cutting out the scones, and flattening it with my hands rather than a rolling pin.
Here's the recipe, if you're on a 'learn-to-cook' quest like me, or if you just want something delicious to eat at breakfast, lunch or dinner (they're fabulous drizzled with honey!)
2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter (they're also good with 1/2 butter!)
1/2 cup whipping cream
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
Set the oven to 375 while mixing ingredients. Scone batches will be baked for 11-15 minutes
Mix dry ingredients in a bowl.
Soften butter (do not melt) and cut and smash into flour.
Add wet ingredients.
Mush together in bowl/on counter
Roll dough about 1/2 inch thick and cookie cut into circles (I used a tiny glass cup for this, very useful).
Some other tips:
Putting a sheet of parchment paper between the scones and the baking sheet with exponentially decrease your clean up time. And the time spent swearing and ripping scones apart because they're stuck to everything.
I wasn't aware of this at recipe time, but another trick is to brush some of the left over whipping cream on top of the scones right before they go in the oven.
What recipes did you start with when you started to cook? Are you in the middle of learning like me? Feel free to share recipes!
Happy Monday everyone.
Friday, September 11, 2009
pantone mugs.
Confession #1. I am a coffee person. And not quite a morning person. Coffee plays a fairly major role in my mornings, and I love it that way.
I have this goal/idea, that once I have my own home somewhere in the world, I'll make a collection of coffee mugs from all over the globe. Random as can be. A sort of refrigerator plastered with magnets or postcards, but in a functional way.
Wouldn't that be wonderful to enjoy your morning coffee and reminisce about hiking along the beach in Croatia, a fabulous petit café in the Marais in Paris, staying in a homey cabin in the woods in the Rockies. How much better would your mornings be tiptoeing through memories instead of dreading the work piled up on your desk?
You'll be happy to know I'm a girl of many ideas. One of my birthday presents this year was a Pantone mug, in mustard yellow which I lovelovelove. I think a bouquet of Pantone mugs in my coffee cabinet would be just as fabulous as memory mugs. Each morning I could choose a mug based on my mood that morning.
Just saying, these are fun ways to wake up in the morning.
What's your favorite thing in the morning?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Life list: Take a hot air balloon ride
I am a huge believer in having a Life List. Chances are those who know me well have heard me say, "that's on my list".
One of the series I'll feature here on mistinguett is sharing my Life List as it exists now (in no particular order), and the many things I'm sure will be added along the way.
I want so badly to take a hot air balloon ride. There's something so elegant about how the float peacefully through the air. I think it would make an excellent (although slightly pricey) date night. Or maybe a date morning, watching the sunrise from the air.
Have you started your Life List ?
Photo source : http://amlifestyle.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/hot-air-balloon.jpg
One of the series I'll feature here on mistinguett is sharing my Life List as it exists now (in no particular order), and the many things I'm sure will be added along the way.
I want so badly to take a hot air balloon ride. There's something so elegant about how the float peacefully through the air. I think it would make an excellent (although slightly pricey) date night. Or maybe a date morning, watching the sunrise from the air.
Have you started your Life List ?
Photo source : http://amlifestyle.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/hot-air-balloon.jpg
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
welcome.
hello all !
welcome to 'mistinguett'. a collection of some my favorite things. inspirations, curious quotes, stories from adventurers. along the way i'll share about some of my own travels, dream about places which are still on my list, and give you a peek into my life as an english teacher.
feel free to explore, and I always love comments ! if you'd like you can even tiptoe through my past personal blog, journalling my experience living in Sens, France as an english assistant in 2008-2009. here's the place :
http://senscerelyyours.blogspot.com/
there's a little taster of my travels. don't be worried about the white-bearded gnome i'm hanging out with on the left, he was actually quite friendly : )
a+
welcome to 'mistinguett'. a collection of some my favorite things. inspirations, curious quotes, stories from adventurers. along the way i'll share about some of my own travels, dream about places which are still on my list, and give you a peek into my life as an english teacher.
feel free to explore, and I always love comments ! if you'd like you can even tiptoe through my past personal blog, journalling my experience living in Sens, France as an english assistant in 2008-2009. here's the place :
http://senscerelyyours.blogspot.com/
there's a little taster of my travels. don't be worried about the white-bearded gnome i'm hanging out with on the left, he was actually quite friendly : )
a+
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food for thought.
