Well, here we are in Chapter Ten, and I, for one, need something that feels normal for a change of pace. Football. It is September and that is when I long for football. Games. Brisk weather. Chaos is OK for about five minutes. Then I need something that calms me down. Like changing leaves and football games on the television set. Soccer? NO. Good, old-fashioned American football. I don’t do this calm thing. I was weaned on football and exciting Friday and Saturday football games! Gainesville High School, handsome football players, University of Georgia, Georgia Tech. University of Wisconsin, Badgers, marching bands. Football!
Okay, the above pictures are taken from yesteryear (1955), but I feel comfortable in posting those shots. I miss all of that. I am still working on feeling comfortable in Paris. (sigh)
And, I miss working, period. This weekend is the CAALA Convention in Las Vegas at my favorite Vegas Hotel (The Bellagio), and I want to be there – mask and all.. As an attorney, I did my best to fight for justice for the little guy. I tried to give back as a thank you for all of my blessings. It worked for me and I think it worked for my clients.
So, now, I do my best with this body that presents me with challenge after challenge. The good news is that I am in Paris. This is a view out my window. I look at the sky a lot.
One doctor told me that they (brain strokes) would heal, but that it would take a long, long, long, long time. Oops. I don’t do patience.
NO COMMENT.
At present, I have a lot of channels with football games, but I don’t like the hours that they come on. But, I will watch some of them anyway and check all scores and follow the season. It will be fun! Go Dawgs !! On Wisconsin!
And, now a few memes that I’d like to share:
BEST, JAY (This is not a current picture – January, 2017, but one I like.)
Grab a coffee. We are charging ahead, DESPITE all systems saying, “BREAKING NEWS!!!!” We are moving into Janet’s Chapter TEN. When last we spoke, I was flailing around in Chapter 9, adjusting to my new-found life in Paris. Then BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM. It happened. What happened? Chaos. THE NEW NORMAL! Are you talking about a Kaleidoscopic Shift? No. That would be normal as it used to be. I am talking about my NEW NORMAL of chaos. CHAOS. CONGLOMERATED MESS. MIXTURE. That is the new normal. Not just for me. And as I adjust to the changes around me, I realize that this is true for ALL of us. The whole world – chaotic climate and chaotic people and chaotic happenings requiring change. This is not the same world as it was before the pandemic. I have been humbled.
What is the plan? WHAT? NO PLAN`???????? OOPS. Are you telling me that we are going to have to suffer the consequences of our own actions without anyone to blame? Well, I will just pick someone or something. At random. That is what everyone else does. I have a list of possibilities.
You can call it what you like but everything is changing, as we speak. You can blame whoever or whatever you like, but HOLD ONTO YOUR SEAT AND FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS. IT IS GOING TO BE A BUMPY RIDE!!!!! (Time for a meme.)
I cannot predict what is part of the mixture, or the unrest that is prevailing, but everything is changing, and I don’t see it getting better (whatever better is) for another lonnnnnng chapter, like it or not. So, I am sharing some thoughts with you while I adjust to the predictability of the chaos. These are some lost words from my childhood. I am a child of the 50’s. I was living in a peaceful and comfortable, predictable time, even though I did not know it. (sigh) For instance, (I don’t think these are just “Southern Slang”)
Jalopy; Hunky Dory; Heavens to Betsy; Don’t touch that dial; Carbon copy; You sound like a broken record; and Conglomerated Mess.
Hung out to dry; A lot of Moxie; Best Bib and Tucker; Straighten up and fly right. Gee whillikers! Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy Moley!
In like Flynn; Living the life of Riley; A knucklehead, a Nincompoop, or a pill; Not for all the tea in China! Or A Slow Boat to China. (singing)
Back in the olden days, life used to be swell, but when’s the last time anything was swell? Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the D.A.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes, and pedal pushers.
Oh, my aching back! Kilroy was here; Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! This is a fine kettle of fish! Pshaw; Hey! It’s your nickel; Don’t forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper; Well, Fiddlesticks! Monkey Business: I’ll see you in the funny papers; Don’t take any wooden nickels; Wake up and smell the roses; See ya later, alligator! Okidoki. (double sigh)
OK, I will admit that these words fall trippingly off my tongue. But I was careful to leave them out of my legal briefs. Judges DO NOT LIKE reading cliches.
Well, you get my point. I am now off and running into Chapter TEN, like it or not. Coming, ready or not. So, I will leave you with some closing thoughts that I like. I am still pondering these thoughts by a guy named Romeo Bouchard.
Food for Thought:
“It is a privilege to be able to grow old. Old age is the season for taking stock, the inevitable “diving into oneself and withdrawing from survival” (Serge Bouchard): age forces us to reinterpret our lives, to look for the common thread, to weigh their successes, misfires, injuries, pivotal moments; to do the housework, to take a distance, to transmit to those who stay and who come what deserves to be, This is why I write, at home, from source, while waiting, and you who read me help me feel alive. Like a boat leaving the port, the old people get loose, move away. Memories become their most precious treasures: they replace what can no longer be. Their descendants relay behind them their imprint in the chain of DNA and time.
There is nothing scary about aging when we realize what we are made of. We are made of the matter of the Universe, we are sons of the Earth and the Sky, we are stardust, we come from this fury to live which pushes the cosmic energy to organize itself, to live and to think about (Hubert Reeves). We are not born: we have always been: we appear, like grass in spring. We will not die: we will always be: we disappear, like grass in the fall. We are made of the substance, energy and movement of the Universe. Between the infinite winter where we were not and the infinite winter where we will no longer be, we live the time of a fleeting spring, summer and autumn, we are shooting stars, three little ones turns and we go, we leave an imprint: our children, our loves, our works.
We are, the moment of a life, the Consciousness of the Universe. The gods, the stories and the philosophies that have been invented to say it, are not worth a sunset, a living tree, the birth of an animal or of a child, the conflagration of two bodies, the permanence of ‘an attachment, the dedication of a worker, the courage of the people … and the cruelty of their masters. The beauty of the world has an answer for everything. To grow old and die, like the evening of a beautiful day: tomorrow is another day.”
So it’s a privilege to grow old. I agree. And very humbling.
So , Welcome to Janet’s World! Chapter TEN!
P.S. the memes are favorites of mine.
And, a fun cartoon portraying my Pollyanna attitude, below. (My nightmare was always forgetting my line in the school play.). Meet Mr. Pollyanna
Best JAY, signing off with a favorite photo from Chapter TWO in Daytona Beach, Florida USA as JANET, age 16, moves into Chapter TEN in Paris, France, age 84.
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Some days are not good days for me. I think it has to do with biorhythms. But, I don’t know. So, I am not going to try to write about depression, or family values, or whatever. I have some good topics when I feel like it, and I have been trying to walk in my neighborhood. But, I want to make an appearance on Jayspeak so I am going to do a “LATE AUGUST 2021 NO COMMENT COMMENTARY FROM PARIS with love.” These are just things that speak to me. Grab a coffee.
I chose over twenty thoughts to post, but I am not posting that many. I don’t want to bore you with my gloominess. But, I find that positive memes help me gain perspective. Maybe it also does for you. i hope so. I am ready for September. I have a long list of things that I am thankful for, especially that I am in PARIS. I always like cities – New York City, Atlanta, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago. Paris, London, Rome ……. So, I am basically a happy camper. Thanks for sharing this time.
I woke up this morning filled with alarm. The good news: I woke up.. The bad news: alarmed. About what? EVERYTHING.
You name it, I was alarmed. Then I remembered (as if I ever forget) my blood pressure. Oops. Got to calm down. How ? Log onto social media. Oops. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Then I remembered that I was trying to get a good version of “my story” onto social media, and I needed to practice. The problem is that I don’t know which version to tell. There are lots of versions. After practicing for several minutes and trying out several versions, I decided that was not a good idea, either.
So, I decided to “think”. What is upsetting me so much? I need help. With what? EVERYTHING – I want somebody to help me with money, help with thinking, help with walking, help with seeing, help with planning, help with French, help with French voicemail messages, help with my questions, just someone out there willing to help me. ……. NO ONE. Where is Steve when I need him? He had my back !
Janet, no one is going to help you to do all of that. YOU HAVE TO HELP YOURSELF. WHAT???? Oops.
All it takes is money. Great Help can be bought, especially in Paris. Also, with the French Health system, you have to ask. But , but. WHAT?
You are stuck.
Now, are you mentally mature? I think so. Are you able to grasp the concept of a different perspective? I think so.
Are you really “stuck”? Yes. Different perspective: I am stuck in a lovely apartment in a safe location in a good section of Paris, France, in a building with a good concierge couple who fix whatever is broken in a timely fashion (for the French). AND, so far, I have stuck to my budget. And I have food to eat (sorta) and a little pocket change. And I am alive in a pandemic. I woke up this morning. Then, DONGGGGGG!!!
I remembered. This terror is a familiar feeling. This “I have to help myself” is a familiar feeling. This “I have no one to help me” is a familiar feeling. WHAT? My little girl.
You and your “little girl”. When are you going to love that “little girl”? Tell her to ask someone for help. WHAT?
As a very little girl, I was independent. Furiously independent. I wanted to handle EVERYTHING. I wanted to be consulted, NOT TOLD. And so, they did, along with granting my every wish. At least, Daddy did. He gave me most things I wanted – my own room, my own bathroom, a swimming pool, a one-meter diving board, a Steinway piano, a new FORD crown victoria for my birthday. Mother just hated me and punished me for my existence. She ordered me around a lot, and I usually did what she wanted. But, Daddy adored me. Oops. Did they create a monster? No.
So, that is the little girl that I am dealing with. Bold, feisty, and wonderful.
Meet Darrell !
Today is one of my fun anniversaries – 64 years ago. Darrell W. MacIntyre was the father of all my children. He died in 1986. I was so smitten and excited that day that I became Janet Jewell MacIntyre.
Also today is the day that I moved into this apartment. I moved in on August 17, 2020. The lease started August 1 but I took my time moving. I had been in Paris for almost seven months by then.
SO, I GUESS IT IS WHAT I DO NOW THAT COUNTS. Well, what do I do now with this new information? It is not new. JANET GOT HER WAY! SHE IS NOW, AND ONLY SHE, IS IN CHARGE. She now rules her universe. Oops. And she is living in Paris and not in good health. Oops.
BREAKING NEWS: I am not perfect. Never was. And I am in charge. Oops.
So, I don’t have answers. I have a lot of questions. LIke what? Like a gazillian questions, like –
How do I change my thinking?
Can I heal brain stokes?
How do I ask for help?
And, on a world stage, these questions that I borrowed from an article on Facebook, hit home: ” It strikes me that some of the same people currently expressing concern over the fate of Afghanistan’s women and girls work quite happily with Saudi Arabia, which has its own repressive government, and have voted against reauthorizing our own Violence Against Women Act. Some of the same people worrying about the slowness of our evacuation of our Afghan allies voted just last month against providing more visas for them, and others seemed to worry very little about our utter abandonment of our Kurdish allies when we withdrew from northern Syria in 2019″, along with a multitude of other matters. And those worrying about democracy in Afghanistan seem to be largely unconcerned about protecting voting rights here at home. OR, in stopping the spread of a disease that has already killed LOTS of people or politicians supporting that spread and that is, once again, raging, or accelerating climate change?
Bottom line – I see a lot of hypocrisy. It’s just today’s perspective. But I am researching mental maturity. So I can change my perspective/thinking and improve my health because I am in charge.
And that is just for starters.
I am not interested in controversy or hearing your thoughts on any of these questions. This is my universe, and JANET IS IN CHARGE. And, for now, I am researching mental maturity before I look for different perspectives. I don’t like the feeling of alarm. And, it you don’t like the questions I have asked, don’t read my blog. Sorry.
GOAL: I must practice loving myself with all of those imperfections!! My health requires a new way of thinking. Oops. I apologize for mistakes. My brain does its own thing .
Best. Jay
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Just practicing asking for help. Thanks in advance.
Today is the 16th anniversary of my marriage to Steve Orlandella. We booked a weekend at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. Everything about that weekend was fun. But I am not prepared to write about that today. He died from heart failure on August 31, 2016, after having been treated in the hospital for double pneumonia. Very similar to an early case of the Covid-19 today. I cannot tell you the effect that his unexpected death has had on me ever since. I have been surprised at the way I have handled things. Not good. I constantly must tell myself positive things. Sometimes it works. Sometimes not.
So today, I am going to tread water and post memes that have helped me. Possibly some of you are suffering too. Maybe something I post will help you. Or, maybe not. I hope so. THIS IS NOT THE WAY I THOUGHT LIFE FOR ME WOULD BE ONCE I GOT TO PARIS. But, my plan is not working …… yet.
The même/post below is important to me. I suffer with several of them. But, it is not easy growing old and dealing with health issues in a place (foreign country) where I don’t speak the language. Yet, I am happy I wake up in Paris each morning. In France and in the USA, I had friendships that have ended – or not; I have lost (sorta) my legal and acting communities in Los Angeles where I had built a reputation for myself; I miss the certainty that I once had; I question my judgment; I have let go of who I once was; I often feel lost and unanchored; and I question my familiar traditions of the past. I tell myself daily that I am open to letting go and loving myself and accepting myself with all of my imperfections and changes. And, most times, it works. Yet, I grieve….. (read) ……
I don’t think it is too late for me to change, grow, and transform. I am definitely outside of my comfort zone.
And, now that we feel better (sigh), remember to laugh often. It is important. Here are two cartoons that I find funny (sorta).
As you can see, I don’t have answers – only a lot of questions. I continue to be hopeful that clarity will come. And, I will keep on keeping on. And, for the closer,…….
Remember, we are all digging up negative conditioning. At least , I am. So, look for the green light, take a deep breath, and GO for it. There will be bluebirds over the white cliffs of dover —- tomorrow, just you wait and see. What have you got to loose? Change will happen whether we like it or not. As Steve would say, “If you want to make God smile, tell him YOUR plans.”
HELLO, AUGUST,2021!! I thought you would never get here. Frankly, I love September. But August is full of surprises for me. I “remember” 2 wedding anniversaries, 5 birthdays of important people in my FORMER life, and one VIP death. So, I am up and then I am down. Let’s share and walk down memory lane, shall we? A moment to reflect.
Two Important wedding anniversaries:
August 17, 1957: I had my first big wedding on August 17, 1957. It rained that day. Plus, I was 3 months pregnant with my baby daughter. And Darrell MacIntyre was considered a major “catch” everywhere but in my hometown. I was very excited. And it was a memorable event. We went to the Cloister in Sea Island on our honeymoon. I found Darrell very sexy. The marriage wasn’t’ so hot. Stay tuned.
Then, on August 7, 2005, I married a man I loved very much – STEVE ORLANDELLA. He was also considered a “catch”. We booked our wedding and honeymoon night at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was glamorous, fun, and wonderful. I was a successful attorney in Los Angeles, AND I was very happy. I think he was, too.
Now, for the five birthdays that were special to me. NOTE, these are birthdays from long ago when I had special friends in my hometown of Gainesville, Georgia, when I was growing up, all except for Steve. I had best friends at that time. And, I was good about remembering their birthdays. August was filled with them.
First and foremost, August 11, 1950 was Steve’s birthday. He was born and died in August (1950-2016).
August 7, 1938: Alice Whitehead Paris. She was a best friend. We have lost touch over the years. But, she was special. She is the tall, gorgeous one with me and Angela at the beach.
August 13, 1935: Rosemary Wood Johnston Dodd. She was a special friend and wonderful artist and actress. I had her paintings for years. We have also lost touch.
August 14, 1937: Carole Lilly Jones. We were best friends and still are good friends. Our parents were friends. She is my one, special lifetime friend and will always be.
August 27, 1973. Christopher John Uhler, my stepson for 12 years. A real cutie.
AND, the worst part of all of these memories is the month of August 2016, that Steve spent in the hospital in Nice, France, while the doctors battled to save his life. We NEVER dreamed he would die. We were on holiday/delayed honeymoon in July 2016 in Sardinia. It was wonderful. We were so in love. And, happy to be in France near Formula One in Monaco. Not in our wildest dreams…….
And, gone but never forgotten, Steve died on August 31, 2016. A man with a big heart, his heart failed.
I was supposed to go first. Not Steve. But, health issues plagued him and still plague me. In the plague in Paris. SO, those memories play over and over in my mind EVERY August. So, I will leave you with a picture of Steve on a good day in Marseille in June 2016 – two months before.
Best, Jay
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Thanks for any help at all that you will give to me. Aging is dealing with health issues – major and minor. Glad to still be alive with a 5-year plan in place. I plan to continue writing – as long as I can.
Those of you who know me or have followed me on Jayspeak know that I have lived a life of relative abundance. And “things” mattered, and I had a lot of “stuff”. I had saved everything in case I MIGHT NEED IT OR WANT IT SOMEDAY. I made sure that I provided for my children through thick or through thin as marriages would come and go. So, you can imagine my shock and surprise to discover that they did not want any of my stuff / things. In fact, they did not want me. So I sit on the sidelines and watch as they accumulate their own stuff / things that they want and think they need to be discarded later in life…or not, That is a long story that I don’t want to reveal in this blog, but I decided to change my ways.
I moved with my favorite husband – the love of my life – to Nice, France, on October 1, 2015. And, together, we got rid of stuff when we moved. Piece by piece.
The anniversary of his untimely death is on August 31, 2016. Almost five years ago. I began writing this blog shortly thereafter. And, I have been getting rid of “stuff” ever since. And trying to keep it together. Whatever “it” is. I now live in Paris. I don’t have much ‘stuff’. I am just happy to still be alive. A lot of my friends are gone. One friend wrote:
“Last night, my theatre family and I lost one of those people. Ray Cavaleri, thank you for being the embodiment of what a mentor is and for inspiring me to understand that there is more to an artist than striving to be in the spotlight, but to prepare the soil to be engaged in the fruitful display of the shared stories of the human experience. Thank you, Ray, for being Steve’s good friend.
“O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning…”
I am 84. And a post on Facebook puts into words what I want to say. I am struggling with brain strokes. Shock and strokes have caused physical damage to me. And, in my study of my brain, I keep getting knocked on my ass with the stark reminder that adventure, love, prosperity, prestige…anything I have aspired to at all…is just the currency I have used to buy the four things that really matter: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins.
What?????
Yes. Realizing that even that kiss that melted my heart… only melted it because those four fairy godmothers waved their magic wands and turned my brain into a princess. But if my brain hits me with a really shitty exchange rate, if suddenly winning that Academy Award doesn’t matter, or belonging to the Television Academy doesn’t matter, or getting a part on a television show doesn’t matter and it only buys me a day’s ration of serotonin, then how the hell am I supposed to stock up for anything to look forward to?
That I can stand on the highest mountain and feel nothing but a desire to walk without a cane, is all I need to kick me in the ass and ask the most important question, how’s my exchange rate? What can I do to get more joy out of everything I’m presented with, big or small? How does anyone do that? I guess there begins one’s lifelong quest for whatever the hell I need to do to bring true value to the external pleasures of the world in the time I have left on this earth. Anything that promises – not pleasure – but perspective. There’s a good case to be made that those are the things that flood my brain with happiness because I opened a door by myself or stepped on a stair without holding on is all the evidence I need that “how I experience” is so much more important than “what I experience.” Goodbye, Steve and Ray. This post is for the two of you. I will always miss you. I will live life with you in my heart as best I can. After all, I now live where I always dreamed of living! Paris!
I don’t know who Sean Carter is on Facebook, but I thank him for getting this brain to think. It needs all the help it can get. Just some fillers that make me feel good.
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ― Louise Erdrich (recipient of 2021 Pulitzer Prize).
Best, Jay
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I regret that I am having difficulties and want to get through this problematic time, but I appreciate any help you will give to me. Thanks, Jay/Janet
Everybody has a story. And, as I get older (and wiser), I “see through” pretentiousness. At least, I THINK I do. And that is all that matters. To me. Haha. I am beginning to see that when people choose to be pretentious, it is mean to people that are not worthy of the presentation or just “LEFT OUT”.
Stories vary, according to the storyteller. And, I have heard some doozies. The “spin” is all over the place, and I want to say, “Wait a minute, didn’t you just say…….” I don’t. I just let them go on while I smell something fishy. It has nothing to do with truth. This week, a friend of mine died. You should read the memorial that was written. I could not believe what I was reading. Because I was there. I know a lot of the truth. But the spin was interesting. Most of what was left out. Was that mean to those who were omitted? Was it intentional? I don’t know.
I am finding that ex-pats (expatriates) in France – or anywhere – have reasons why they are ex-pats. You should hear some of the spins I hear. It always makes me wonder why I am an ex-pat. What is my spin? Oops. What is her spin? What is his spin? Oops. If someone is on Facebook, you can get an idea of spins by reading what is really going on by the memes and posts they choose to post. Otherwise, you are on your own with conversation topics and the presentation of a person’s lifestyle. Is what they are saying in keeping with their choice of apparel, how they look, where they live, what they are eating for lunch, and such. I do it – study spins – because I enjoy it. I like truth, and I like for a person to try to tell the truth or try to tell accurately the facts. Maybe there is no truth because facts fluctuate.
And then there are the political spins in ALL countries. But that is another whole “ball of wax”, as my grandmother would say……… I call it “propaganda”.
It is all exhausting.
Yesterday, I went to my favorite restaurant for lunch. I sat in my favorite corner, against a velvet curtain and the wall. And, while I was there, I watched an old lady (I am probably older than she was). She was walking with a gorgeous cane. Her hands shook as she held the menu. Her hands had diamonds on her fingers with gold bracelets on her arms. Before she ordered off the menu, she asked (in French) the server to straighten three pictures on the wall. I did not understand the French request, but the server straightened three framed pictures. I saw the owner of the restaurant see the server straighten the pictures and ask a question. After the pictures were straight, the lady ordered lunch with Pellegrino water. She did not order the special of the day. I did. After a dessert off the menu, she was finished.
I left before she did, but I knew that – with all of my problems and my spin (which changes every time I speak), I am better off than she is. My hands do not shake when I hold a menu. My cane was furnished by a hospital in Nice. I have diamonds that I chose not to wear for security reasons. I don’t like bracelets. They bug me.
So, I have NO answers. Just a lot of questions. So, I will leave you with a poem that I got off Facebook that I like. A LOT. Many thanks to the original poster – a friend of mine.
“My dear,
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.
This has been a wonderful week of catchup for me with lots of ups and downs. No comment. And now I am asking you to sit in the dark with me in case we are either one having difficulty seeing the bright side. Something or other triggers that recurring doom-and-gloom and then I have to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start over. You would think a Jillian times would be enough, but noooooooo. Here it comes again…..
Actually, it was a good week. I had a successful trip to see my general practitioner. I had a good health report. My blood pressure is behaving (sorta). I found a coffee and pastry shop open (most close in July and August). I feel qualified to sit down with you.
I got some flower photos.
I read about the Cannes Film Festival and remembered my time there with Jamie in 2017…
This has been a wonderful week of catchup for me with lots of ups and downs. No comment. And now I am asking you to sit in the dark with me in case we are either one having difficulty seeing the bright side. Something or other triggers that recurring doom-and-gloom and then I have to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start over. You would think a Jillian times would be enough, but noooooooo. Here it comes again…..
Actually, it was a good week. I had a successful trip to see my general practitioner. I had a good health report. My blood pressure is behaving (sorta). I found a coffee and pastry shop open (most close in July and August). I feel qualified to sit down with you.
I got some flower photos.
I read about the Cannes Film Festival and remembered my time there with Jamie in 2017, and found this fun to read (see below).
“The legendary Hollywood director Steven Spielberg and his wife Kate Capshaw are cruising off the Mediterranean coast, but it’s not been confirmed that they will pay a visit to the Cannes Film Festival. The director, who’s 74, is the owner of the Seven Seas, one of the world’s most luxurious super yachts which he bought in 2010 for 200 million dollars. The couple enjoyed a discreet dinner at the Hotel du Cap in Antibes earlier this week and it wouldn’t be a surprise if they make an appearance on the red carpet.
There are two competition films today. “La Fracture” or “The Divide” from the French director Catherine Corsini, stars Pio Marmai and Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi as a couple on the verge of a break up who find themselves in a hospital emergency department as a huge demonstration is taking place in Paris. Meanwhile, Paul Verhoeven’s biographical drama “Benedetta” stars Virginie Efira as a novice 17th century nun who joins an Italian convent and starts a love affair with another woman. Charlotte Rampling and Lambert Wilson also feature. Both films are in French with English subtitles.
Lunch at my favorite restaurant in the neighborhood.
I ordered and got at LA POSTE my updated French checkbook with my new/old current address on the checks for the doctors who require a check or cash (requiring euros in the account. Oops).
I walked more than before and am taking an honest look at the role I play in my own suffering. Oops. Worry less and believe more.
IT was “Fashion Week” in Paris.
“Fashion Week” is happening in Paris (PFW). That is a happening that I have heard of all my life and dreamed of wearing designs from the Paris people. Actually, I think the designers like Armani and others that I love are from Italy and work out of Fashion Week in Milan. But I don’t know a lot about any of them. I have read up on some of it and want to include some information here. When I was practicing law, I wore Armani suits – in navy and black and grey. I had several in my wardrobe. I still have most of them in my closet, but I seldom put them on anymore. This is what I have discovered. It is interesting (I think.)
There are four important fashion weeks, often referred to as the “Big 4”: New York, Paris, London and Milan. But Paris is home to the industry’s first-ever organized “fashion week”. Since its inception in 1973, the event has been an unmissable rendez-vous for all fashion lovers, both in France and worldwide. While the official title is “Semaine des Créateurs de Mode”, the Paris Fashion Week, or PFW, is the most commonly used expression.
The events at Paris Fashion Week are divided into 3 categories: Menswear, Haute Couture and Ready-to-wear. And of note to attorneys like me, the word “Haute-Couture” is protected by intellectual property copyright. To be eligible, the houses need to fulfil the stringent criteria set in place by the Chamber of the Haute Couture. Those stringent criteria consist of many rules, of which one is the requirement to create a minimum of 35 looks per year and which must include both day and evening wear. Only a few houses get bestowed with this appellation and can be considered as producing “Haute-Couture” collections.
Organized by the French Fashion Federation, the Fashion Week includes over 100 shows which feature top fashion houses such as Chanel, Christian Dior or Yves Saint Laurent, as well as lesser-known designers. The financial impact of the PFW on the French capital amounts to €400 million, excluding sales in stores.
Paris Fashion Week takes place twice yearly, with a Spring/Summer edition and an Autumn/Winter edition. The dates are determined by the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode. The Haute-Couture collections are always presented before the ready-to-wear collections, which represents half of the shows. For a long time, Paris Fashion Week’s shows have taken place mainly in the Carrousel du Louvre. During the Fashion Week itself, a hundred shows and events also take place at different venues throughout the city, such as the iconic Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld shows, which have been taking place in the Grand Palais for several years.
How to get invites to Fashion Week shows: Go to the website “modeaparis.com” and check the dates for the upcoming shows. The dates for this year are: Men’s Fashion from Wednesday, June 21st to Sunday, June 25th, 2017; Haute Couture from Sunday, July 2nd to Thursday, July 6th, 2017; Ready to Wear from Tuesday, September 26th to Tuesday, October 3rd, 2017. The shows are a fantastic opportunity to see some beautiful clothes and incredible designers!
So, I really can’t complain. Ok. Truth be known, I really like who I am becoming a lot. It is about time. Many thanks to the people who posted these photos and memes originally. All of these photos brighten my day. I hope they do the same for you. And a shout out to those friends and relatives who have my back. Happy Trails to YOU. Now, just some photos I like.
Thanks for letting me sit with you. Till next time…..
JAYSPEAK 