I get kind of grouchy (okay, really grouchy) if I don’t have meals or preplanned snacks standing by for consumption at their appointed hour. I prefer going to bed and waking up at the same time each day, and the hours in question usually relegate me to the old lady category. When my life isn’t following some kind of pattern, I definitely feel my overall constitution suffer. It reminds me of my Korean-American college roommate, who once got sick after too much partying and called her dad (a doctor) for advice. He didn’t offer her any sympathy, but instead gave her a prescription for recovery that went exactly like this: “Janice, YOU NEED RHYTHM!”
Janice’s dad is a smart guy.
Even though I seem to be in a constant state of travel, I still manage to maintain my own kind of rhythm. No matter where I am, things largely look the same on a day-to-day basis. I figured I’d show you a day in the story of Megan as She Knows Life during this tour of duty. Be forewarned though: I’m not much of a rock star, and instead simply continue to wander about, largely unsupervised. Good thing I’m pretty boring, cuz I could be causing all kinds of trouble out here…
First, we have the waking up thing. This is obvious. I usually grab a notebook and scribble without reflection for a couple of pages in a kind of sub-mental exercise that reflects whatever is in my brain before getting out of bed. More often than not, I don’t go back and read what I write- but I am sure that its contents have unlocked my subconscious and hold some keys to the meaning of life. Or maybe it’s just me complaining that I don’t want to get out of bed and have to work out.
Next of course is the exercise routine. I really do love my PT time (that’s physical training, for you non-military wonks). I always try to get my workout in as soon as I wake up, because if I don’t, I’m thinking about it all day long and wondering where I will fit in as the day progresses and life meddles with my schedule.
This is my yoga mat- which I typically use if not out for a run. I don’t always lug this thing around thing with me, but I find it worth the extra effort while on extended trips. Incidentally, anyone who says that it’s impossible to work out while on the road is full of crap. It’s easy to accomplish, and you just need your own body and maybe a DVD or some imagination to make it happen. Whether I’m living out of a suitcase or not, I typically get my six days of working out fulfilled without fail (that is, unless I’m horribly hung over).
Next is my favorite meal of the day: breakfast. I love it (especially while on a ship) because I know that I’m going to get the exact same thing (which is always exactly what I want) so I’m never disappointed. Or hungry in an hour. I don’t understand those people who can just wake up and start their day without food. They’re nuts.
This is what I’ve been consuming lately: steel cut oatmeal with bananas, ground flax seed, and fromage blanc all mixed together. I don’t care if you think it’s disgusting- I find that after climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, I now have an affinity for gruel. I also love that I am currently in a place where the weather kind of begs for hot oatmeal at breakfast.
Depending on how much noise my neighbors are making, I decide whether I’ll work in the morning or wait until later in the afternoon. At 9am, I discovered that I have a neighbor who is also an opera singer. Really, take a listen from my kitchen window….I like her much better than the dumb bastard who spends hours on end playing the recorder…badly. He (or she) gives me flashbacks to Ms. Vieira’s music class where we learned the “Rocky” theme on that instrument. (I think I could still play it too, so I should probably go and show my neighbor a thing or two.)
On this particular day I chose to spend the morning and early afternoon wandering around. I hate sitting in front of the computer, and this city has so much to offer that I have spent most days walking over 10 miles, according to my fitbit pedometer.
I’ve been to Paris a few times already, so I don’t need to waste my time visiting places of mass congregation (although the other day while near a museum, I heard a French person if “anyone here spoke French”. I was the only one who could help her….and no, this isn’t the first time that this has happened to me in this city. Incroyable.
I had never been on this street before, and now I know why. It looked like Made in China’s ‘Paris Collection’ threw up all over the stores.
If I’m going to eat out in town (and really, why the Hell wouldn’t I in France?), I always try to eat at an establishment that I have been wanting to try. This place, I had wanted to visit last year when visiting France with my sister and brother-in-law. I ordered a sardine tartine with a glass of Chardonnay. The lemon juice squeezed on top made this lunch simple, yet outstanding.
Look at this coffee and tell me that you now believe that all coffee spoons should be edible…
To work off my lunch, I usually try to go visit some of the places that I have only previously viewed from afar. Like this one: the Tour Saint-Jacques. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen this on the skyline and thought, “What the Hell is that, anyway?”
I may stay pretty active by walking all over the city, but I’m still psyching myself out whenever I use any of the Montmartre stairways. I’m going to run up them one of these days- especially when I continue to fill my waking hours with measured dégustation.
I’m definitely not consuming as much Coke Light as I do in Dakar, but I do love a country where people hand this elixir out for free on street corners. Especially when it’s about 4pm and I’m in need of a little pick-me-up.
And speaking of a pick-me-ups, today’s quasi-goal in striking out was to search for a chocolate shop recommended by Dave Lebovitz. This dark chocolate and salted butter caramel concoction was probably the best thing that I have ever tasted (next to my usual breakfast, of course). I swear, if David wasn’t a gay man, I might have to stalk him since we’re both currently living in the same city…
I buy a baguette, and start to make my way back home. Still, I can never resist stopping to photograph one of the many clever panneaux that plaster this city.
I know that I can’t spend all of my days here wandering around like an over-privileged and fancy-freebobo…my work ethic and Catholic guilt simply won’t allow such a thing. (Besides, I certainly would never dream of drinking a Guinness in Paris!)
So now we arrive at the unsexy portion of this blog entry: my school work- AKA the whole reason for my being here. Everything up until this photograph might make you ask where you too can sign up for this paid vacation– but I will say that in my day bag I do keep my notebook and papers. I tend to mix café life with academics, and believe it or not, I’m more productive when I’m out of the house. There’s something to be said for removing that cinder block known as the internet from your neck and going to a place where the distractions are a bit more….well, more than virtual.
Okay, so that’s it. Nothing terribly earth-shattering, but I rather like the life that I have carved out for myself. Really, the only thing that is missing while I exist in this parallel universe is my beloved cadre of friends and family. But that said, I am making some new friends along the way- and I am sure that as I sit in cafés and pour over maritime security material, I am bound to meet some quality French sailor dude who is just dying to discuss the finer points of my thesis and simultaneously improve my vocabulary. All over a bottle of nice wine, of course.
(You did know that language skills improve exponentially once you introduce alcohol, didn’t you?)
