Magic
This weekend felt a bit surreal. Somewhere between fire breathers and Marie Antoinette there were mangoes and confessions. At one point afterwards I was underneath a mini vineyard with twinklelights and one racoon either so gluttonous or brave he didn't even scamper at the noise of people below.
Lots of alcohol. Wine and sangria. Trying to explain my background to a québecois. He seemed confused.
"My dad was French Canadian."
"Was?"
"Yes was." As in past tense.
"Why isn't your last name French then?"
"He was adopted when he was a baby."
"Adopted?"
People echo what you say before even taking the time to compute the information. It's just... too many questions. It's too complicated. Bah. Screw it.
A conversation with M. made me realize that life is so precarious. It's almost creepy how much some paranormal force can come along and just pull the rug up from under you when you least expect it. G. has this great expression about the ups & downs in life: "Just ride the waves".
It's the downs that make you appreciate the ups. It's the ups that make you thank God the downs are in the past. Things can come full circle when you least expect it. And then the cycle starts all over again. But for better or worse, bad experiences make you relate to people in ways that only first hand knowledge can. They bring this priceless gift of perspective. Who to keep. What to throw away. Look at Mrs. Antoinette. One day she's destined to reign over France, the next she's in line for the guillotine. Some two hundred odd years later she's largely misquoted, historically misinterpreted and is being played by Kirsten Dunst in a movie by Sofia Coppola. But hey at least she's being remembered. Them's the breaks.
OK the movie admittedly looks pretty good. Plus it has Molly Shannon. I really can't argue with that.