Wow. Almost a year.
Maybe I'll jump on the bandwagon.
At work.
22 February 2006
31 March 2005
Happy Easter!
Took a weekend trip with the host family and my wonderful friend Carrie.
LOOK AT THE PICTURES!
We're a STAR!
Me and the host family
Claire, Pierre, me, Carrie, Phillipe... but CHECK OUT THE COAST
Carrie and I
me, Carrie, Pierre, Claire... but look at the spray behind us. That was a wave hitting the rocks a good 15 or 20 feet below.
Again, me and Carrie. ICE WATER, my friends. Ice water.
But look at how it sparkles!
AND ALSO, earlier that day...
Pierre
Claire
Me
... all victorious.
So there.
It was a great weekend. The coast was so beautiful, as you can see, and I just... it was good to be where I was, bonding with the family again, and Carrie too. Everything is going wonderfully for me, right now. I'm very... content. It's genuienely GOOD.
Still miss you though. Don't ever think I don't.
Until Next Time,
"The Visible, The Untrue"
by Hart Crane
Yes, I being
the terrible puppet of my dreams, shall
lavish this on you—
the dense mine of the orchid, split in two.
And the fingernails that cinch such
environs?
And what about the staunch neighbor tabulations,
with all their zest for doom?
I'm wearing badges
that cancel all your kindness. Forthright
I watch the silver Zeppelin
destroy the sky. To
stir your confidence?
To rouse what sanctions—?
The silver strophe... the canto
bright with myth ... Such
distances leap landward without
evil smile. And, as for me....
The window weight throbs in its blind
partition. To extinguish what I have of faith.
Yes, light. And it is always
always, always the eternal rainbow
And it is always the day, the farewell day unkind.
COUNTDOWN to return: 61 days!!!
01 March 2005
Remember me?
So WHOA it has been a while since the last time I wrote in this guy. Isn’t that odd? I can hardly believe it. So much has happened since Christmas. I’m sorry that I let this one go, but it isn’t because I don’t love you. It’s jut because I’m lazy. Can’t say it any other way.
So, in the time that I was gone, I took a ten day trip to Rome and Venice with Abraham, which was practically perfect in every way. Cold and wet in Rome, lots of fountains, historically significant monuments, the origin of Western civilization, the center or Western religion… quite the city. And Venice: perfectly clear blue skies, incredible sights, lots of birds, beautiful water, gondolas, pizza, Dali artwork. Pretty goddamn fantastic. We were stranded there for a few extra days, as fate would have it, and that was fine. I think Venice is my favorite city in the entire world. I fell in love with it, though I could never live there. It is, in all honesty, a few islands of tourist traps. But the tiny streets and the maps and no-car atmosphere is just about as good as the world gets, I think. At least, the world I’ve seen.
And then, back in Rennes to turn seventeen (exclamation points) and work on my French. I can’t think of any particular anecdotes, but we read King Lear and L’Etranger, talked a lot about the European Union and the entrance of Turkey, enjoyed a few days of both snow and hail, and ate incredible amounts of chocolate and cheese. Joy.
And half-way through the month of February, school lets itself go, and most of my class heads off the Paris for the week, to putz around museums and partake in the general merriment of the city of lights. I, however, went the Alps with my host family, to ski. Now. That. Was. Interesting. I’d only ever been skiing twice in my life, before this week: once for two days at Peak and Peak in New York with school in seventh grade (who remembers the fake British accents and crazy scary story night?), and then in freshman year for a week with the wonderful Adelstein family at Montremblant in Canada. And while I am fairly agile and have always thoroughly enjoyed the act of skiing, let’s not kid ourselves and say that I was any good at it. I managed the parallel skiing and the virage thing, but if no one was looking, I’d just pie-wedge my way through the steep parts. Cuz skiing is scary, man! But so let’s first discuss the difference in slope difficulty between Peak ‘n Peak and Les Arcs, our station in the French Alps. I’d say that the highest hill at Peak ‘n Peak is, what, 800 meters? The highest slope at Les Arcs is 3,214 meters. That is a full 3 kilometers above sea level. Now, remember, from a height like that, you can see for miles in every direction, and your fingers tingle and your muscles clench because it is just so beautiful. One of the days, the clouds had settles at about 600 meters, so there was a cottony blanket over all of creation, and all one could see were the mountains rising out of the endlessness. It was like being on the other side of heaven. The snow sparkled as it fell, when it fell. Just absolutely astounding. But, of course, the slopes from that height are all reds and blacks, and my family, who skies for a week every winter and has for at least the past decade, knows no fear. They’re incredible, really, their ease on skies is basically unparalleled in life. But for the poor American reject, such a thing is not so simple. Again with the pie wedging down slopes, and taking years each time The family was slightly frustrated with me (and when I say frustrated, I mean frustrated), but I made improvements, and could handle just about any slope by the end of the week. So there’s that. But no one can ever say that the French lack intensity. All you need to do is hit the slopes with a few thousand of them, and you’ll see. There isn’t a bad skier in this country. Even the five year olds are rockin the black, mogul-y slopes. It’s really a cult.
And then, the next week, this past week, I was in London with my friend Evie. Now, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say in order to reveal this week for the truly life-altering trip that it was, but there’s just something magic about being with a very good friend alone in a European city for a week. We saw the museums and went to plays (Macbeth done by the Royal Shakespeare Company. That part was played by Ian McKellen back in the day. And Dame Judy Dench! Hands down the best thing I have ever seen. And The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged) which was hysterical. I highly recommend it) and wandered the open air market at Notting Hill and felt like we were a real part of history. Honestly, that is the most significant thing I can say about Europe. You’re always in a place where someone important did something important. You’re always touching eons of writing and war and politics and trade. Evie is a big history buff, and took European History AP last year (got a 5, by the way), so she was always spouting the names of dead white men and what they had done in the very places we were walking or sitting or eating or peeing. I fed birds in the park where Duke Harry the Grizzled declared war on the Albanians. WOO HOO. And speaking of Albanians, touring Europe means you meet more people of more nationalities than you are capable of comprehending. Albanians and Swedes and Poles and Spaniards and Italians and Yugoslavs and Macedonians and Dutch and Argentineans and Germans and New Zealanders and Scots, each one with a funny little story or very bizarre quirk. I won’t bore you with the endless details, but our hostel was what I like to call a human zoo. Of all kinds, I suppose.
And now I’m back in Rennes, counting down the weeks (it’s seven, by the way) to the next vacation, and then the few after that until I come home. Things have again hit s rough patch with the host family, but it’s alright. Evie and I have become a lot closer, and we’re sort of in the same situation, so all in all, we understand one another. Everything works out. It’s spring! There’s sun! It’s still freezing here, but when I biked to school this morning, it was light out. I could hardly believe it. Things are looking up.
So, I’ll leave you with the poem that my dear friend Gwen sent to me, which I think you all might enjoy, and basically sums up how I think of this year, and the glorious summer I foresee, and am eagerly anticipating.
I miss you so very much, and you have all my love.
Until Next Time,
Now, when the waters are pressing mightily
on the walls of the dams,
now, when the white storks, returning,
are transformed in the middle of the firmament
into fleets of jet planes,
we will feel again how strong are the ribs
and how vigorous is the warm air in the lungs
and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain,
when the great dangers are arched above,
and how much love is required
to fill all the empty vessels
and the watches that stopped telling time,
and how much breath,
a whirlwind of breath,
to sing the small song of spring.
-- Yehuda Amichai (translated from Hebrew by Leon Wiseltier)
Countdown to RETURN: 93 days (exclamationpoints)
So, in the time that I was gone, I took a ten day trip to Rome and Venice with Abraham, which was practically perfect in every way. Cold and wet in Rome, lots of fountains, historically significant monuments, the origin of Western civilization, the center or Western religion… quite the city. And Venice: perfectly clear blue skies, incredible sights, lots of birds, beautiful water, gondolas, pizza, Dali artwork. Pretty goddamn fantastic. We were stranded there for a few extra days, as fate would have it, and that was fine. I think Venice is my favorite city in the entire world. I fell in love with it, though I could never live there. It is, in all honesty, a few islands of tourist traps. But the tiny streets and the maps and no-car atmosphere is just about as good as the world gets, I think. At least, the world I’ve seen.
And then, back in Rennes to turn seventeen (exclamation points) and work on my French. I can’t think of any particular anecdotes, but we read King Lear and L’Etranger, talked a lot about the European Union and the entrance of Turkey, enjoyed a few days of both snow and hail, and ate incredible amounts of chocolate and cheese. Joy.
And half-way through the month of February, school lets itself go, and most of my class heads off the Paris for the week, to putz around museums and partake in the general merriment of the city of lights. I, however, went the Alps with my host family, to ski. Now. That. Was. Interesting. I’d only ever been skiing twice in my life, before this week: once for two days at Peak and Peak in New York with school in seventh grade (who remembers the fake British accents and crazy scary story night?), and then in freshman year for a week with the wonderful Adelstein family at Montremblant in Canada. And while I am fairly agile and have always thoroughly enjoyed the act of skiing, let’s not kid ourselves and say that I was any good at it. I managed the parallel skiing and the virage thing, but if no one was looking, I’d just pie-wedge my way through the steep parts. Cuz skiing is scary, man! But so let’s first discuss the difference in slope difficulty between Peak ‘n Peak and Les Arcs, our station in the French Alps. I’d say that the highest hill at Peak ‘n Peak is, what, 800 meters? The highest slope at Les Arcs is 3,214 meters. That is a full 3 kilometers above sea level. Now, remember, from a height like that, you can see for miles in every direction, and your fingers tingle and your muscles clench because it is just so beautiful. One of the days, the clouds had settles at about 600 meters, so there was a cottony blanket over all of creation, and all one could see were the mountains rising out of the endlessness. It was like being on the other side of heaven. The snow sparkled as it fell, when it fell. Just absolutely astounding. But, of course, the slopes from that height are all reds and blacks, and my family, who skies for a week every winter and has for at least the past decade, knows no fear. They’re incredible, really, their ease on skies is basically unparalleled in life. But for the poor American reject, such a thing is not so simple. Again with the pie wedging down slopes, and taking years each time The family was slightly frustrated with me (and when I say frustrated, I mean frustrated), but I made improvements, and could handle just about any slope by the end of the week. So there’s that. But no one can ever say that the French lack intensity. All you need to do is hit the slopes with a few thousand of them, and you’ll see. There isn’t a bad skier in this country. Even the five year olds are rockin the black, mogul-y slopes. It’s really a cult.
And then, the next week, this past week, I was in London with my friend Evie. Now, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say in order to reveal this week for the truly life-altering trip that it was, but there’s just something magic about being with a very good friend alone in a European city for a week. We saw the museums and went to plays (Macbeth done by the Royal Shakespeare Company. That part was played by Ian McKellen back in the day. And Dame Judy Dench! Hands down the best thing I have ever seen. And The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged) which was hysterical. I highly recommend it) and wandered the open air market at Notting Hill and felt like we were a real part of history. Honestly, that is the most significant thing I can say about Europe. You’re always in a place where someone important did something important. You’re always touching eons of writing and war and politics and trade. Evie is a big history buff, and took European History AP last year (got a 5, by the way), so she was always spouting the names of dead white men and what they had done in the very places we were walking or sitting or eating or peeing. I fed birds in the park where Duke Harry the Grizzled declared war on the Albanians. WOO HOO. And speaking of Albanians, touring Europe means you meet more people of more nationalities than you are capable of comprehending. Albanians and Swedes and Poles and Spaniards and Italians and Yugoslavs and Macedonians and Dutch and Argentineans and Germans and New Zealanders and Scots, each one with a funny little story or very bizarre quirk. I won’t bore you with the endless details, but our hostel was what I like to call a human zoo. Of all kinds, I suppose.
And now I’m back in Rennes, counting down the weeks (it’s seven, by the way) to the next vacation, and then the few after that until I come home. Things have again hit s rough patch with the host family, but it’s alright. Evie and I have become a lot closer, and we’re sort of in the same situation, so all in all, we understand one another. Everything works out. It’s spring! There’s sun! It’s still freezing here, but when I biked to school this morning, it was light out. I could hardly believe it. Things are looking up.
So, I’ll leave you with the poem that my dear friend Gwen sent to me, which I think you all might enjoy, and basically sums up how I think of this year, and the glorious summer I foresee, and am eagerly anticipating.
I miss you so very much, and you have all my love.
Until Next Time,
Now, when the waters are pressing mightily
on the walls of the dams,
now, when the white storks, returning,
are transformed in the middle of the firmament
into fleets of jet planes,
we will feel again how strong are the ribs
and how vigorous is the warm air in the lungs
and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain,
when the great dangers are arched above,
and how much love is required
to fill all the empty vessels
and the watches that stopped telling time,
and how much breath,
a whirlwind of breath,
to sing the small song of spring.
-- Yehuda Amichai (translated from Hebrew by Leon Wiseltier)
Countdown to RETURN: 93 days (exclamationpoints)
25 December 2004
Have Yourself...
A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS.
I love you all and I am thinking of you constantly.
It's true. I can't help it.
Warm tidings and a few bisous,
your Madeline
I love you all and I am thinking of you constantly.
It's true. I can't help it.
Warm tidings and a few bisous,
your Madeline
21 December 2004
Berlin
So, WHOA.
Hello, my dears.
I know, I've been lacking. It has been a while, hasn't it?
Shame on me.
But the problem is, I have no IDEA how I can put into words just how crazy this trip to Berlin really turned out to be. It changed a lot of things. It changed everything.
Shall I make a list?
THANKS TO Americans for Informed Democracy:
- I understand the connection between the Cold War and the War on Terror, and why that means Europe will never respect us again. (Also: [fall of the berlin wall: 11-9] / [WTC bombings: 9-11]. It's weird.)
- I understand that there is a large portion of the United States that thinks of the war in Iraq as a war on religion, a war on Islam, and they support that.
- I understand that we are more divided within ourselves than we realize.
- I understand the connection between Neo-Conservatism in the US and pre-enlightened, 17th century Europe.
- I understand that many European countries, including both France and Germany, are actually spreading propaganda against the United States.
- I see that China is on her way to overtaking both us and Europe, economically speaking, and we better be ready for it.
- I understand that the AIDS epidemic will soon take to us, too.
- I understand that the US is trying to be both a great country (a world power, an empire) and a good country (a humanitarian nation, a model of morality), but is succeeding at neither.
I understand all of these things. They make sense to me. They must make sense to you, too. And I'd explain them more, because they're important, and because they frighten me, but that's not the point. The point is that even though all of these little details prove a point, they don't change anything. They just are. They're just the depressingly looming facts of our existence. And I'm sorry that I learned them. I'm sorry that someone made them clear, I'm sorry that all they do is make me feel more insignificant, I'm sorry that everything we do to change them basically collapses at our feet.
But, here is how it changed my life.
Through the influence of a few BRILLIANT college students and their pricy, well-earned college educations, I was taught that it will all work out. In the end, people become educated, people come around, people talk, people see. People come together. It's inevitable. The only variable, the only unknown in this whole mess is how long it will take, and therefore, what we will have to endure in the meantime.
All of this mess, it's just a matter a patience.
And, well, we all know patience is not one of my strong points.
But in the mean time, I'll amuse myself in France.
Christmas is just around the corner, and with it, Italy.
Since when did I become the luckiest girl in the world? Anyone? Anyone?
Berlin, otherwise, was great. I befriended lots of college kids studying abroad, and became really close with a girl at my own school. Cara Beth Rogers. She's in London right now, with family. We spent one of the nights together wandering the city. We snuck onto the roof of a Westin hotel, their private Christmas garden. It was just about the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Berlin is magical, it was casting winter spells.
It showed me that I will do something with my life. I will. I will DO SOMETHING. SOMETHING that makes a difference. I am determined now, you see. I am adamant.
We're all free, traveling, resting. Thank god for break. I haven't left the house in 4 days. AH I'm so gross, BUT I LOVE IT.
At the moment, everything makes me happy.
Especially you all. Thank you.
I'll be around. Merry Christmas, if I don't talk to you before then. And have Happy New Year.
Until Next Time,
"They are a nocturne
in argent and gold, and they burn
with the ferocity
of dying (which is to say, the luminosity
of what's living hardest.)"
:: Mark Doty, "Four Cut Sunflowers, One Upside Down"
COUNTDOWN to Christmas/Italy: 4 days
COUNTDOWN to my birthday (hey, why not??): 23 days
COUNTDOWN to return: 162 days
Hello, my dears.
I know, I've been lacking. It has been a while, hasn't it?
Shame on me.
But the problem is, I have no IDEA how I can put into words just how crazy this trip to Berlin really turned out to be. It changed a lot of things. It changed everything.
Shall I make a list?
THANKS TO Americans for Informed Democracy:
- I understand the connection between the Cold War and the War on Terror, and why that means Europe will never respect us again. (Also: [fall of the berlin wall: 11-9] / [WTC bombings: 9-11]. It's weird.)
- I understand that there is a large portion of the United States that thinks of the war in Iraq as a war on religion, a war on Islam, and they support that.
- I understand that we are more divided within ourselves than we realize.
- I understand the connection between Neo-Conservatism in the US and pre-enlightened, 17th century Europe.
- I understand that many European countries, including both France and Germany, are actually spreading propaganda against the United States.
- I see that China is on her way to overtaking both us and Europe, economically speaking, and we better be ready for it.
- I understand that the AIDS epidemic will soon take to us, too.
- I understand that the US is trying to be both a great country (a world power, an empire) and a good country (a humanitarian nation, a model of morality), but is succeeding at neither.
I understand all of these things. They make sense to me. They must make sense to you, too. And I'd explain them more, because they're important, and because they frighten me, but that's not the point. The point is that even though all of these little details prove a point, they don't change anything. They just are. They're just the depressingly looming facts of our existence. And I'm sorry that I learned them. I'm sorry that someone made them clear, I'm sorry that all they do is make me feel more insignificant, I'm sorry that everything we do to change them basically collapses at our feet.
But, here is how it changed my life.
Through the influence of a few BRILLIANT college students and their pricy, well-earned college educations, I was taught that it will all work out. In the end, people become educated, people come around, people talk, people see. People come together. It's inevitable. The only variable, the only unknown in this whole mess is how long it will take, and therefore, what we will have to endure in the meantime.
All of this mess, it's just a matter a patience.
And, well, we all know patience is not one of my strong points.
But in the mean time, I'll amuse myself in France.
Christmas is just around the corner, and with it, Italy.
Since when did I become the luckiest girl in the world? Anyone? Anyone?
Berlin, otherwise, was great. I befriended lots of college kids studying abroad, and became really close with a girl at my own school. Cara Beth Rogers. She's in London right now, with family. We spent one of the nights together wandering the city. We snuck onto the roof of a Westin hotel, their private Christmas garden. It was just about the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Berlin is magical, it was casting winter spells.
It showed me that I will do something with my life. I will. I will DO SOMETHING. SOMETHING that makes a difference. I am determined now, you see. I am adamant.
We're all free, traveling, resting. Thank god for break. I haven't left the house in 4 days. AH I'm so gross, BUT I LOVE IT.
At the moment, everything makes me happy.
Especially you all. Thank you.
I'll be around. Merry Christmas, if I don't talk to you before then. And have Happy New Year.
Until Next Time,
"They are a nocturne
in argent and gold, and they burn
with the ferocity
of dying (which is to say, the luminosity
of what's living hardest.)"
:: Mark Doty, "Four Cut Sunflowers, One Upside Down"
COUNTDOWN to Christmas/Italy: 4 days
COUNTDOWN to my birthday (hey, why not??): 23 days
COUNTDOWN to return: 162 days
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