31 October 2007

Je parle français, mais un peu

I've never been to Paris in April. I've been there in October, November, December, January, June, July, and August. Once in the colder months, twice in the summer. Perhaps I should've stuck it out for April.

Charlie Parker - April In Paris

Parker's Paris is: catching the Metro just in time and carrying a black umbrella. Lunch dates with someone whose eyes wrinkle in the corners before he smiles. Swapping stories about "back home" with fellow ex-pats with only a glint of nostalgia and not that overwhelmingly thick coating. Dusk walks around the neighborhood in heeled shoes that click or tap or click-tap. Some other Paris that I may still find if I ever wind up back there.



I'll admit it. When I was in France, I listened to a lot of the same things. Feist and Dizzee Rascal videos aired a lot on M6 in the early morning hours and I was totally into it. It's not so much a secret, but I love marionettes and puppets. So grotesque and whimsical. "Dream" is a bit kitsch and kind of silly and a few years later, I'm not sure if I like Dizzee Rascal or if I just buy into critical hype.



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I'm computer dumb so bear with me as I try to figure out how to use, er, build? a flash player. Maybe by the New Year, yeah? I bet it's all sorts of simple. For the time being, I'm using Bleep for flash since I'm not 1337 enough to listen to horribly obscure stuff.

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