tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2403307807166186772012-02-16T17:46:58.040+01:00Aralenanoreply@blogger.comBlogger2221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-14266735004109872732012-02-09T14:18:00.001+01:002012-02-09T14:18:41.145+01:00

 James Joyce children's story The Cats of Copenhagen gets first publication Sounds delightful. Now, if only prices didn't start at €300!

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-12750930667784729142012-02-07T10:03:00.000+01:002012-02-07T10:05:05.398+01:00

I love this: popuphood. Local urban development that is ground-up, love-fueled, and happening now. In Oakland, Ca. Look at those fantastic storefronts! I'm excited to see how the popuphood project is manifested when I visit the East Bay in a few weeks. And really, really excited to see it with my sweet friend Hank and her lovely family, who loves her city of Oakland quite a lot.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51024365467658615892012-02-07T09:14:00.000+01:002012-02-07T09:14:01.632+01:00

Over the weekend, I met a woman who refuses to wear a watch. She also refuses to refer to her cell phone to check the time. When I asked her about her personal stand against temporal cognizance, she told me, quite simply, that she teaches physics to middle schoolers, and because of this, her days are regulated to the minute, without fail, from the minute she arrives in class until the minute the

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-26543423011034113182012-02-06T20:06:00.001+01:002012-02-06T20:06:23.528+01:00

There's a nurse-in planned today, in Menlo Park, but also anywhere else in the world, in solidarity with the women protesting Facebook's lame habit of removing breastfeeding photos. It's boob out day! Here in Toulouse we're snowed in, so there'll be no public expressions of lactivism on our behalf, but I will say that this issue was a major reason for me closing my FB account. I found it

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-62091870711981331742012-02-03T09:09:00.001+01:002012-02-03T11:02:48.931+01:00

"The internet, it turned out, was a place to make people like you: the world’s biggest slumber party, and the best place to trade tokens of slumber party intimacy—makeup tips, girl crushes, endless inside jokes. The notion that women might share some fundamental experience and interests, a notion on which women’s websites would seem to depend—“sisterhood,” let’s call it—has curdled into

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-5008366173091493562012-02-02T08:39:00.000+01:002012-02-02T08:39:37.590+01:00

a palm tree with snowflakes Temperatures have been steadily dropping here, and throughout the week I've heard people predicting snow. This morning we woke up to a snow-dusted garden, and just as we were admiring the flakes on the palm tree, the snow began to fall again. Jacques was alight with wonder -- we all were! It's still drifting delicately down outside. Gorgeous and quiet.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-25958752962635324152012-01-31T08:56:00.001+01:002012-01-31T09:50:29.239+01:00

The Foundation for Child Development has released their annual study on which U.S. states are doing the best to ensure children's well-being. Surprising (sort of) results within. The subtitle of the study says it all: "Investing in Public Programs Matters: How State Policies Impact Children’s Lives."  As one of the key findings of the study points out, "Higher State Taxes Are Better for

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-2337303437309106862012-01-30T09:29:00.002+01:002012-01-30T09:29:52.170+01:00

There's been a curious upswing in psychic television programs in Italy. Four minutes of listening to Mago Mariano, and you can see why. Are those perfume bottles on his desk?

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-11284048487151053692012-01-26T09:14:00.000+01:002012-02-07T19:58:29.078+01:00

Interesting interview on NPR: Caitlin Flanagan On Protecting Girlhood Hypersexualized society is bad for girls? I think so. It's bad for boys, too. Especially the way it is manifested in American and French cultures, the only societies I can really speak for. The cartoonish, photo-shopped, objectified approach to things erogenous is effed up, so it seems logical that a hyper-ization of said

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-18974758689330481512012-01-24T08:32:00.000+01:002012-01-24T08:32:50.882+01:00

I want to see this: Mosquita y Mari Mosquita y Mari Trailer from Augie Robles on Vimeo.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51274595033223485792012-01-23T10:23:00.001+01:002012-01-23T10:23:17.310+01:00

via design milk This desk is groovy. So is the fact that in less than 3 weeks, Jacques, Jean-Baptiste and I will be breathing foggy Pacific air, laughing at stories told in English, and communing with my terre natale. We're goin' to California! It's cheesy, but lately, when I think about this upcoming trip, I get the song "Goin' to California" in my mind, and start humming the guitar

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51060413142554581502012-01-17T13:38:00.000+01:002012-01-17T14:09:56.430+01:00

Ah ouais. According to the trend forecasters at Version Femina (free Sunday paper insert that is sometimes smart and informative, sometimes irritating with its "we are NOT feminists" editorials) featured this lovely new trend: the onepiece. Leave it to the Norwegians, man. Like it? I know it's intended as a hangover recovery suit, but frankly, as a stay-at-home-work-from-home-mom, I think this

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-39647436688708804332012-01-17T08:25:00.002+01:002012-01-17T08:57:37.359+01:00

About a week before Christmas, my mom decided to hop on a plane to come spend Christmas with us in Toulouse. What a treat! Definitely what I really wanted for Christmas. We got to have lots of girl time in the pink city, wandering in and out of pretty brick shops, fooding in the Carmes district, but mostly (and bestly) talking, talking, talking. In search of sun, we all took a road trip to

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-24627135237274964402012-01-13T08:26:00.000+01:002012-01-13T09:37:05.654+01:00

Target, please come to Toulouse? Or at least Jason Wu's line for Target? CNN's sneak preview of Jason Wu's line for Target Wow, Mr. Wu. Very cute. I am so much more excited about the outcome of this collaboration than the acrylic mess that Missoni offered up. The flirty party dresses look clean and smart enough to not need to be made of something too noble, and that cat scarf is insanely

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-11201498695459189392012-01-12T10:05:00.004+01:002012-01-12T10:10:49.915+01:00

Glory Jay-Z wrote this rap ode after the birth of his and Beyoncé's baby girl. I find that incredibly sweet - his voice sounds like the exhausted but exulted doting dad he will probably be. But what I find really remarkable, powerful, and brave are his references to their prior miscarriage. As common as miscarriages are, no one, celebrities especially, likes to talk about them. And so most

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-69870662356498504382012-01-10T09:28:00.001+01:002012-01-10T09:28:52.871+01:00

Pulling the sheets off of Jacques' mattress this morning, I relished the ease of changing wet bed sheets when the mattress is not in a crib, or on the floor. This new year, Jacques Emidio's mattress sits atop a simple wooden bed frame, Jean-Baptiste's from when he was a little boy, and so I don't have to bend completely over to pull the corners out from under the mattress. It's a simple change,

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-29769414330365795912011-12-20T08:34:00.001+01:002011-12-22T15:37:40.999+01:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-58068050550519452882011-12-13T11:40:00.001+01:002011-12-13T11:40:41.244+01:00

The longer I live in France, the more I like Reagan.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-375477556794672702011-12-08T10:39:00.000+01:002011-12-08T10:39:19.447+01:00

Today’s Love Goes to Khaliyl, Our Favorite 2-Year-Old Rapper - COLORLINESOMD, the cuteness is killing me. Those dimples!

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-58224139757315567622011-12-05T10:16:00.001+01:002011-12-05T11:28:48.211+01:00

JB had a work engagement in Lyon on Friday, so Jacques and I tagged along to visit France's second-largest city. Lovely Lyon, flanked by and flanking the Rhône and the Saône, about midway between Marseille and Paris, the ancient Roman post - still a flourishing, vibrant, culturally and financially rich city - is not so far away as I had imagined. After a scenic 4 hour drive, passing by

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-13395225686248996752011-12-05T10:14:00.001+01:002011-12-05T10:14:41.085+01:00

Kate Bush has released a new masterpiece of originality and evocation. The album, "50 Words For Snow" is a constant in my background/work playlist. Quite fitting for the season, too.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-21221152673450282122011-12-01T08:29:00.000+01:002011-12-01T14:58:10.729+01:00

Sharing a link this morning, to this post on Mama Eve's blog, because I sat there nodding to what Mama Eve was saying: "It's hard to be THAT mom" Something that wasn't easy as a new mama over here in Fra-yance was/is feeling like the weirdo/hippie/California/grooved-out-to-the-max mama. I work on just owning it daily, not worrying about the stares or comments, and, inversely, not feeling like

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-39850669481408368672011-11-24T11:12:00.005+01:002011-11-24T11:47:03.946+01:00

J and LR are, as my friend Casey says, models of random acts of toddler kindness. I am so grateful to witness such tenderness.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-9800439334987407962011-11-21T11:25:00.015+01:002011-11-21T14:30:55.413+01:00

We've been pretty good about sticking to our goal of discovering the southwest of France since we moved here two years ago. This isn't really a challenge, though, since as a clinically compulsive traveler, any excuse to go somewhere suits me. And, let's be honest, Southwest France, flanked by the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, rubbing up against the Pyrenees and never too far from Provence, has

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-69928700593216227742011-11-20T17:25:00.002+01:002011-11-20T21:26:42.869+01:00

Once J and LR learned they could add a new element to trucking around the living room by opening and closing the entry doors, the delight and pride was enhanced by x3,000. These two are truly a joy to watch play together.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-83206859623884198752011-11-06T11:16:00.003+01:002011-11-10T12:47:43.463+01:00

Funny thing overheard while papa was putting two-year-old Jacques in his carseat, who was not cooperating, to put it mildly:"Allez, Jacques, sois raisonnable." Ha. Comedic relief on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-4591589367316440612011-11-02T18:28:00.004+01:002011-11-02T18:35:25.095+01:00

Atlas Sound's new album "Parallax" is streaming on NYT Magazine right now. Love when albums are pre-streamed on some major daily's site. It nearly ALWAYS gets me to buy the real deal when it's released. Happened with Bon Iver, s'gonna happen with Atlas Sound.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-70257530127701246232011-10-25T15:53:00.005+02:002011-10-25T16:04:34.550+02:00

No question about it, it's fall in Toulouse. Crisp air, warm gusts of wind blowing golden leaves around the park, hail storms immediately followed by baby blue patches of sky, and waking up in the dark! This Little Dragon song, Crystalfilm, matches the weather - and my mood - nicely.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-65672108718429404482011-10-01T03:20:00.000+02:002011-10-01T03:20:41.683+02:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-16661051126469342872011-09-30T10:24:00.004+02:002011-09-30T10:39:08.380+02:00

I'm borrowing from the hilarious blog, "Parenting. Illustrated with Crappy Pictures" this morning, in honor of our trip to Florida tomorrow: "Sunscreen (or, how I torture my kid)"To avoid this inevitable conflict, we got Jacques one of those UV swimsuits that looks like what Bill & Ted might have designed if inspired by 19th century: He pretty much digs it, almost as much as he digs running

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-27233150440467406372011-09-27T14:57:00.008+02:002011-09-27T16:26:44.535+02:00

The Happiest Kids Don't Have to Smile, Janet LansburyI also remember the loathing I felt for the random (usually masculine) shouter of, "Smile!" Growing up in California, you sometimes get the sense that your personal experience of life is deficient or misdirected if it isn't dedicated to or radiating a lot of joy, optimism, happiness. Of course, this focus on "Smile!" "Be happy!" is unheard of

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-20013979477506799192011-09-20T09:27:00.000+02:002011-09-20T09:28:06.917+02:00

"Quiet brain, or I'll poke you with a q-tip" -- Homer Simpson

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-7557049108706586392011-04-18T16:15:00.001+02:002011-04-18T16:15:35.921+02:00

.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; } First day of "school", originally uploaded by aralenam.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-88766704474573590392011-03-10T15:09:00.001+01:002011-03-10T15:11:31.134+01:00

“There is one thing, I believe, that all of us want, no matter how old we are, no matter whatever differences are between us, the one thing we cherish from another human being is attention. Love…is not certain. Some people will love us, and some people will not. But the one thing that anyone can give to any other person is simple attention. It is not as involved as in love. This attention may

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-23287155216128657702011-02-26T08:12:00.000+01:002011-02-26T20:22:25.539+01:00

... but a man in a well-tailored suit is a fine sight to behold. Not just because it generally flatters the masculine form better than dressed-down casual wear, but because it says, "I care." Have a look:On the street - Seriously, Bill CunninghamNot that I can't bear the cazh look; I am the first person to slouch around the house in sweats, fleece and Uggs. If I didn't live in France, I would be

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-46959665324469350592011-02-25T09:39:00.002+01:002011-02-25T10:14:17.171+01:00

This dreamy album is a mainstay on my work playlist. Everything about The Fleetwoods' music is gentle love, whether unrequited or deeply mutual. Lullaby music for grown-ups.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51433905418282446642011-02-22T10:41:00.002+01:002011-02-22T11:24:06.333+01:00

-AP

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-87526723263411164512011-02-21T16:25:00.004+01:002011-02-22T11:23:51.127+01:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-4042721747710378472011-02-21T15:27:00.003+01:002011-02-21T15:52:32.837+01:00

I have discovered a grocery store, not far from our home, that sells whole, organic, fair-trade coffee beans. It gets better: just below the bins of Mexican, Ethiopian, and Ecuadorian beans, sits a bean grinder. With settings for fineness. Such as espresso or French press. You, the buyer decide how fine you want your beans ground. (Lion's breath) My entire kitchen smells like a coffee shop right

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-47811193226298125192011-01-25T11:38:00.003+01:002011-01-25T12:19:31.686+01:00

to arguing the pitfalls of nitpicking technicalities on the definition of the term "human trafficking." Ashton Kutcher, BBC World Debate, around 2:40:http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/9366871.stmThe rest of the debate deserves your ears, too.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-76966934470935361862011-01-23T15:54:00.004+01:002011-01-25T12:18:33.168+01:00

This morning, at the matinee viewing of "Somewhere," I heard Jacques in the back of my mind saying "vroom vroom" as Stephen Dorff spun round in his black Ferrari. Later, during a party scene, I caught myself thinking that maybe we should turn down the music just a little bit, because it might wake him. Suspension of disbelief? Yes. Capable of relaxing completely? Not apparently.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-60978543943884228472011-01-16T17:02:00.000+01:002011-01-16T17:04:57.248+01:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-15021789923953048062011-01-14T11:28:00.002+01:002011-01-14T11:33:33.146+01:00

Do violent words cause violence? Lessons from the civil rights era

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-63474661743011572132011-01-10T14:53:00.002+01:002011-01-10T14:55:34.096+01:00

This is what happens when Jacques hears "Bed time!"

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-42254138344541251552011-01-08T13:21:00.004+01:002011-01-08T21:14:52.678+01:00

Sometime in middle school, I read about a movement to sanitize songs and stories for children. Damn the Brothers Grimm, fairy tales about little girls being stalked by big, bad wolves, and songs evoking the death of its tiny singers from the Bubonic plague had to go. At the time it seemed reasonable to me - why on earth should children hear horror stories? Wouldn't it just terrify them or

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-48764673831924031212010-12-23T11:53:00.006+01:002010-12-23T12:19:08.566+01:00

This article in The New Republic is right on: having a subscription to the Times is so passé. It's also true that learning Chinese or Russian (or Spanish or Arabic) makes more sense then learning German if one aspires to converse with a large amount of people, or power up one's CV. Clearly the world's corporations and entrepreneurs are not flocking to France or Italy to seek their riches. When I

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-9854207507480647172010-12-10T09:51:00.009+01:002010-12-20T11:09:00.677+01:00

We've taken Jacques out in this little number a few times and it never fails to elicit raised eyebrows and grins. Some inquire where we found the getup, and when we tell them we got it in the U.S., they nod their heads, relieved.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-13509745646070093582010-12-09T16:23:00.002+01:002010-12-09T16:30:44.759+01:00

Excellent piece in Truthdig today, by a journalist I love to read, Robert Scheer:From Jefferson to AssangeWhen I first heard of the Wikileak diplomatic cable spray on the internet, I was delighted - ha! corrupt American politicians, here's your long-deserved comeuppance! - but also worried, cautious - who will this put in harm's way abroad? What intelligence officers are going to be immediately,

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-15085765775542238942010-12-08T09:55:00.007+01:002010-12-08T13:37:58.154+01:00

I had a dream the other night (one of the few that I remember lately) that a young man had painted me a sign that read in colorful pencil, "Awrahlena est Sexy." I thanked him for it profusely -- like, I was really grateful that he had gone to the trouble to reassure me that I hadn't completely let myself go. I remember feeling pretty hott for the duration of the sequence. Dreams like this give me

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-55962574546031141512010-12-07T22:08:00.003+01:002010-12-07T22:17:23.299+01:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-89528038969153804012010-12-03T11:13:00.001+01:002010-12-03T11:20:40.036+01:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51032035828310393672010-11-22T11:51:00.003+01:002010-11-22T12:03:00.283+01:00

"What do you want me to do about it?"If I hear this phrase coming out of another person's mouth one more time, I may go ballistic. Especially if said person is 1)working 2)working in a government-paid position 3)working in a government-paid position and saying "what do you want me to do about it?" in response to a question I am asking or information I am relaying that falls directly under their

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-62251881630639096842010-11-19T09:28:00.003+01:002010-11-19T09:35:40.972+01:00

The wedding of the century, the one to take place in England between Prince William and the lovely Kate Middleton, has sparked insane media attention, obviously and probably rightly so. The economy sucks, Ireland is about to go bottoms up - we could use some old school pomp and romance. Anyway, Zoe Williams has penned a delightfully zinging commentary in The Guardian about it, and snobbery, and

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-66516580947952196562010-11-18T10:10:00.010+01:002010-11-18T16:18:14.358+01:00

I just yelled at and hung up on a municipal daycare center worker. I'm still a little shaken up. And thinking to myself, "this would not have happened in California."JB and I have both noticed that Jacques lights up around other kids and babies his age, actually interacts and wants to socialise, in his toddler way. Now that he's walking strongly, saying a few words, and starting to get his solids

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-42119025034193024412010-11-08T10:04:00.004+01:002010-11-10T09:46:30.789+01:00

It's winter now. Flannel sheets, a heavy tomato red coat, hot baths and Ugg boats have officially taken the place of light linens, gaily striped tees and Greek sandals. Even Elvis is crooning about his Blue Christmas.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-59496215865867437592010-10-06T10:28:00.005+02:002010-10-06T11:25:00.316+02:00

Check out this cheeky response to the burqa polemic: NiqabitchParis Fashion Week, indeed!

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-66149211909165868922010-09-24T15:34:00.007+02:002010-09-24T16:04:28.556+02:00

I read an alarming article yesterday on the toxic levels of aluminum found in everything from soda cans, to vaccinations, to cosmetics, to tap water (aluminum salts are added to the water to give it that lovely clear appearance). Despite the fact that aluminum is a known neurotoxin, damages kidneys, and really doesn't need to be in most of the consumable products in which it's found, it's a

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-81185061147181063462010-09-23T10:23:00.004+02:002010-09-23T10:35:12.129+02:00

If you ever wake up in a horrible mood, or just need a real quick (perfectly legal) pick-me-up, mosey your sweet little fingers on over to La Caliente, Tucson's "best Mexican radio station." The polkas are so awesome that if they don't get your gypsy feet immediately twitching, go get your pulse checked. I'm getting ready for a trip home to California, and just listening to the norteña playing

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-30623073214310162772010-09-14T09:58:00.002+02:002010-09-14T10:20:39.515+02:00

Seriously, California?

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-89174738569981704132010-09-09T11:58:00.003+02:002010-09-09T12:45:53.574+02:00

Not such a fan of the victim label O'Hare is slapping on an entire generation of Californians (or the fact that he's accusing another entire generation of being selfish hypocrites) but the call to action is welcome. A Letter to my Students, Michael O'Hare

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-90965641424494106952010-09-08T10:11:00.011+02:002010-09-08T10:25:47.835+02:00

An evening in Collioure.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51876694521146934792010-09-08T10:05:00.004+02:002010-09-08T10:11:28.634+02:00

Another shout-out to the Middle East, this time taking it further east, to Iraq. Working to AlHaj's oud is relaxing and stimulating à la fois.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-68034662494437246882010-09-07T10:37:00.000+02:002010-09-07T10:37:05.729+02:00

This made me smile.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-69307535166831788812010-09-03T08:18:00.002+02:002010-09-03T08:20:07.399+02:00

Every professional athlete has a coach -- why wouldn't I?

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-89520612950954838132010-08-31T21:30:00.007+02:002010-09-02T22:05:27.355+02:00

Oh dear. Elisabeth Badinter needs to sell some books. Time to make dramatic, out of touch generalizations and rekindle the mère indigne wars by judging women for their choices. Check out her interview in Der Spiegel.Look, it's definitely not a good thing when women feel strapped to the notion that they must stay at home, forsake their careers and social lives in order to raise their children well

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-91104724764112071032010-08-31T21:23:00.003+02:002010-08-31T21:29:44.211+02:00

via Peaceful Parenting.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-23196520470951564362010-08-30T10:59:00.004+02:002010-08-30T13:48:15.123+02:00

Salty air in the hair, sand in between the toes, hands greasy from sunscreen; this is such a summer song. Makes me want to hop in my mom's turquoise Dodge Dart, drop the top, and cruise down to the beach, "oooooh ooooh oooooohing" all the way there.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-23570717830685349352010-08-19T11:08:00.006+02:002010-08-23T10:41:00.423+02:00

Anybody catch the falling stars spectaculaire on August 6? Well, we did. We live down the street from the Toulouse Observatory Park, and an afternoon stroll there alerted me to this celestial event. A sign scotch-taped to the door of one of the administrative buildings of The Observatory was boasting, of course, a big hoedown in conjunction with the local chapter of the Association française

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-84556489310690680532010-08-12T10:00:00.003+02:002010-08-12T10:12:53.129+02:00

Chameleon

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-18282670061345849762010-08-11T10:23:00.006+02:002010-08-11T10:31:12.486+02:00

I've been listening to a lot of Steely Dan while working lately. The tight grooves, K-WAVE choruses, and nostalgic state I get into all help me focus as I read about natural destruction, maternal mortality, and blood diamond trials.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-2415817916381445332010-08-04T14:00:00.003+02:002010-08-09T11:40:33.139+02:00

Do not come over to my house with your out of control toddler and expect to sit idly by while he repeatedly tries to run over my 9-month-old with the toy truck (that I brought out and cleaned up for your monster to play on), yank toys out of his hands, and throw tantrums every single time you absently tell him to give them back. If you won't corral your child, I will.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-50087737900321744292010-07-24T10:38:00.003+02:002010-07-24T22:45:34.486+02:00

I love Luther Vandross, may he rest in peace. I love this song. I love the video. The producer looks like a pretty nice guy, too.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-88292933760483628892010-06-21T11:35:00.002+02:002010-06-21T17:56:46.916+02:00

This just in from Radio Netherlands : "Super dads face ‘quality time’ crunch."I have to give it to Jean-Baptiste; he is a dedicated, involved, and open-minded father. We come from pretty different backgrounds, and I often feel like I'm approaching him with parenting ideas that go against the classic French grain of raising a baby (to put it mildly.) But he never balks or rolls his eyes, or

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-74079820967022919582010-06-20T23:12:00.004+02:002010-06-20T23:25:14.864+02:00

Whenever I have a hard time falling asleep (like right now), I watch clips of Nureyev on YouTube. It reminds me of the way my dance teachers would command us to use the space around us hungrily, to consider it part of our corps, and necessary to the completion of movement. Energy in your arms should never stop at your finger tips, they pronounced; those vibrations of joy, tenderness, rage or

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-68795126074704770282010-06-16T09:51:00.003+02:002010-06-16T09:55:03.773+02:00

Mahmoud Darwich honored with a street in Paris. This is well deserved. And interesting timing.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-65733500082411187802010-06-01T18:52:00.006+02:002010-06-08T16:12:41.233+02:00

As is my terrible, shameful habit, I waited until the last minute to get Jacques a passport or ID card before flitting off to Portugal last month. While I've always been a world class procrastinator, my reasons for waiting until absolutely necessary to fill out and turn in the necessary forms were more a symptom of PTSD. PTSD from enduring the rage/coma/depression/feeling-of-helplessness-inducing

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-78692986618284213672010-05-30T17:44:00.006+02:002010-05-30T18:03:37.709+02:00

It's la fête des Mères in France today. My first. A lovely, fragrant bouquet of flowers picked from our garden greeted me at lunch. I just emerged from a two hour long bath (seriously.), replete with a Monterey-made soy candle, a bolée de cidre, and the book I picked out from the Médiathèque yesterday, just for the occasion. (Merci for the recommendation, Alice.)

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-78494658980733161372010-04-30T08:25:00.009+02:002010-04-30T14:56:02.766+02:00

Drop sheet? Check. Silicon utensils? Check. Vegetables steamed way beyond edibility? Check. Goggles? Check.And away we go...

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-90506009550531045262010-03-12T09:40:00.003+01:002010-03-12T10:03:20.839+01:00

I actually woke myself up twice snoring last night. I had to keep myself from laughing out loud when I realized that fact, and adjusted the floor-length, flannel, be-flowered nightgown I was snoring in. At least I'd remembered to take out my dentures.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-2610325940896774532010-02-24T13:49:00.006+01:002010-03-12T15:08:15.571+01:00

We got Jacques' first big giggles with JB dancing and singing the theme song to "La soupe aux choux." OF COURSE.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-27644975429438106842010-01-29T15:11:00.011+01:002010-01-29T23:05:33.350+01:00

I work at home, and so does Jacques. We work with each other's schedules, trading off on who gets to eat lunch first, changes outfits more, wins staring contests, etc. We are best buddies, and the worst of bunk mates. Nights when he sleeps well, I wake up more often, shocked to find him peacefully dreaming of what I imagine to be either a benevolent, always available breast whose milk never

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-3454259572895858072009-12-19T15:53:00.009+01:002009-12-19T19:51:54.262+01:00

Nothing gets Jacques' legs kicking, arms flailing, squeals in action like watching his ladybug mobile. I can't blame him - the green shamrocks and black and red sailing coccinelles are pretty mesmerizing.He gets a kick out of airborn bugs, and I get a kick out of watching him: mutual fascination.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-59750639307019072602009-10-13T12:15:00.001+02:002009-10-13T12:15:46.743+02:00

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-68454769338082161702009-10-12T16:42:00.013+02:002009-10-12T20:35:18.389+02:00

TOP CLUBenvoyé par dric76. - Voiture, camion et deux roues en vidéo.The first time Jean-Ba brought me to Toulouse to "meet the parents" we spent the first evening out. In a club. With a group of his rugby friends. At a mega-boîte called l'Esmeralda. Somewhere in the outskirts of Toulouse. Constructed and last decorated in 1979. Murray Head on heavy rotation. It was "ladies night." The great

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-679183094769320132009-10-05T10:00:00.004+02:002009-10-08T10:22:35.409+02:00

"McDonald's restaurants to open at the Louvre"(and this: "Egypt cuts ties with France's Louvre museum")

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-19203333912020069132009-09-16T18:05:00.008+02:002009-10-03T14:57:20.095+02:00

Jean-Baptiste is sanding rough edges right now. He spent all afternoon sawing wood posts on the terrace, in preparation for the crib he is building for our baby. Watching him carefully measure, mark and cut planks of maple wood makes my heart sing. I love to think that in a little over a month, we'll be putting baby to sleep in a bed made with so much care and with one little guy in mind.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-47960100721711876622009-09-11T14:27:00.008+02:002010-01-29T14:52:18.448+01:00

There's a big, sprawling park down the street from our current digs, La Ferme de cinquante. It sits along the Canal du Midi, and stretches out to a cooperative farm, with fields both fallow and cultivated. With the summer heat the grass is golden, and the creek that flows along the dirt path toward the horse corral is all but dry. This scorched, brittle landscape reminds me of my home on the

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-25044154497814242562009-09-10T12:06:00.009+02:002009-09-16T14:44:32.612+02:00

Check out this documentary by Lorella Zanardo, "Il Corpo delle donne" on the deplorable image of women as depicted on certain Italian TV channels. (Bravo, Berlusconi.)The obsession with absurd body proportions and denying the manifestation of time on our faces is sign of our infantile times. Not that I don't empathize. I look in the mirror and wish I could erase the dark bags under my eyes, which

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-4012491962175219282009-09-09T07:16:00.003+02:002009-09-09T07:41:59.454+02:00

Every morning for the past week, around 5am, I wake up with a desperate need to pee. Baby takes the vidange as his cue to do sun salutations. Sometimes, drunk on amniotic fluid, he'll get a bout of hiccups. I lie there, on my left side, pillow-bound, and move into the waking state.The feeling reminds me of camping, when you wake up right before dawn, and can't get back to sleep because there's

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-32754061700171294592009-09-03T21:03:00.003+02:002009-10-03T15:15:10.417+02:00

In general, I don't like being the center of attention. I much prefer to observe and sneer. Seriously, watching people behave the way they do is fascinating, and I actually do enjoy listening to people divulge the contents of their hearts and minds. Since moving into the obviously pregnant state, however, I am no longer able to move about relatively anonymously. Old men on buses poke, prod and

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-79177759405803006602009-09-02T11:51:00.006+02:002009-09-02T12:39:00.931+02:00

Interdiction de doudous à la maternelle. Today is la rentrée, and it wouldn't be quite French without some new legislation to keep the tots on their toes. As of this year, in Toulouse at least, little Frenchies-in-the-making are no longer allowed to bring their security toys with them to class in preschool. Exceptions will be made for nap time, but absolutely no concessions for lunch time, play

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-80584528848025404772009-08-13T12:56:00.013+02:002009-08-13T19:26:03.128+02:00

The other day a friend asked if we were going to have our infant circumcised. The issue has briefly crossed my mind throughout my pregnancy, but I hadn't yet spent a great deal of time reflecting on it. I responded that we probably would not, as it seemed a horrible introduction to the world, and just another unnecessary medical intervention to worry about. Jean-Baptiste shot back a vehement "

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-52466392066658596562009-08-05T11:03:00.003+02:002009-08-05T16:18:29.032+02:00

La dignité de l'homme exige qu'il porte la burqa, par Pierrette FleutiauxLe Monde, 04.07.09 Si j'étais un homme pieux, voici ce que je proposerais. La femme est un être faible, soumis à toutes les tentations, nous le savons depuis la nuit des temps. Elle est concupiscente, tout entière la proie de pulsions condamnables. Son corps aspire à celui de l'homme, la société doit maîtriser ce corps, dès

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-67548164958658195692009-07-28T15:22:00.007+02:002009-07-29T09:15:05.726+02:00

Is Nino Ferrer the greatest French-Italian ever to have lived? I think so. Certainly more interesting than our bizarre current first lady/chanteuse. There's Claude François, but he's... Claude François. Yves Montand definitely gives him a run for his money, but Nino has Yves beat in the weird factor; anyone who can make a song about pickles that makes me want to get up and shake what my mama gave

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-67152039286713909822009-07-17T13:49:00.003+02:002009-07-17T19:41:16.354+02:00

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30cLeymah Gboweewww.colbertnation.comColbert Report Full EpisodesPolitical HumorJeff GoldblumMs. Gbowee shared her inspiring tale as a peace movement leader in Liberia at the WIP conference in NYC last fall. Granted, there were no Colbert mediators to crack jokes, but her presence and force of communication were equally as moving. Keep your eyes peeled

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-21526799709499359442009-07-01T15:10:00.006+02:002009-07-01T15:31:10.131+02:00

From the outside, things look pretty calm:But on the inside, I'm convinced the scene looks a lot more like this: Yes, there's a mini Nureyev in my uterus, and he loves his dried fruit.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-56182713254388402682009-06-08T11:10:00.001+02:002009-06-08T11:32:58.733+02:00

"I believe increasingly that only the willingness to share private and sometimes painful experience can enable women to create a collective description of the world which will truly be ours." - Adrienne Rich

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-91596163901906749542009-05-24T11:30:00.001+02:002009-06-08T11:33:25.590+02:00

"Ce n'est pas dans la nouveauté, c'est dans l'habitude que nous trouvons les plus grands plaisirs." - Raymond Radiguet

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-51820123348712501972009-05-17T20:35:00.009+02:002009-05-17T21:04:15.070+02:00

was surprisingly, terrifically fun! This was my first night museum experience (and Paris' 5th), and I admit that I was expecting a Nuit blanche on Vicodin... but not at all. At least not at Les Invalides, where we delighted in a reenactment of Les Mousquetaires fencing (Vive le roi!) marveled over Napoleon's incredible tomb, and got a close-up look at 16th, 17th, and 18th century armor.

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240330780716618677.post-35895102014183071312009-05-14T13:11:00.007+02:002009-05-14T23:00:41.788+02:00

Jean-Baptiste brought this very, very unfortunate incident to my attention the other morning: "Une souris dans la pizza... et un gros malaise chez Pizza Hut"Such a sad tale, fit for a Disney rendering, like a blue collar version of Ratatouille. Animal abuse, union muscle versus the capitalist pigs, and culinary experimentation gone deeply awry. The worst part of this drama is that it happened at

Aralenanoreply@blogger.com1