I miss France. No, truly. Zey may sink zees eess oh-so friendly and happy a place, this Rouge and this Amber. But, moi, I know that the only place to truly live is ma belle France.
Kyra was telling me the other day, how she hopes to teach English in France. If she does, I shall beg and plead, and weep pearly little tears down my petals and make her pack me with her.
I shall sit on a pretty French window sill and gabble away with the other French plants - the red geraniums, the lilac bougainvilleas, the ivy twirling so gracefully on trellis of cottages. We shall twirl the sweet smoky smell of Gauloises Bleus cigarettes around our leaves (for nothing smells like France the way those do), we shall listen to the perfection of Edith Piaf and feel at homely peace, we shall talk and argue Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir till from sunrise to sunset. And in the dusky twilight, I shall meet my Jaune, my debonair yellow fiancee, who will feed me escargots and cheese and wine, and we shall make sweet sweet love in the honeysuckle scented air. Sigh.
L'amour in France is nothing like lesbian l'amour in a dusty Abu Dhabi balcony. I see those dirty looks that Amber gives me when shes "sleeping". Sleeping, pah! In France, I would never sleep. I would never be lazy or bored or lonely.
In France, I would truly, oh-so truly live.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Ma Belle France
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3 comments:
Hello Blanche,
Good to hear from you. Bad to hear that you're unhappy.
I think that while indeed France is awesome, as long as you have your Jaune, things can be distinctly...french, wherever you are.
Blanche, I have a message from Amber. She said the French are froggies and think the sun shines from their arse.
She loves India and especially Mumbaikars and says Jai Maharashtra and not Vive Le France.
SInce my name does not appear like Harry's on the comment I just wanted to clarify that the above comment was a message relayed to Blanche from Amber by Mama Mathews.
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