The Ordinary

I've gotten a request to write more about day-to-day stuff, so here I'll try to give the "ordinary" the attention it deserves.

I think most of what goes on in my life are things that can happen anywhere: I unsuccessfully tried to back up all my emails, I'm hungry but too lazy to cook, I spend a lot of time in my head thinking and indulging in my weakness for nostalgia. But then again there are plenty of Only In France moments, except they happen every day and I've forgotten to notice them. I'll have to start bringing my camera with me so I can take pictures of bus stops and cross-walks, maybe even my classrooms, because they're different enough from at home that it might be worth sharing.

Today, I decided to go for a walk. The weather has turned beautiful but I've been stuck inside for the past three days with something like the flu, and I've been going a little stir-crazy. During my confinement I watched the 1985 Anne of Green Gables, which re-awoke the 11-year-old Alice, with all of her propensity to imagine herself in elaborate romantic adventures, just like Anne. I braided my hair and told myself I was going to take a walk along the seaside and daydream.

It was a good way to face the difference between twenty-two and eleven. There are more profound differences, of course, but the 11-year-old Alice could have spent a lot of time imagining vine-covered pink plaster alleyways, ceramic tile gazeboes sitting atop cliffs, overlooking Mediterranean waves crashing onto jutting rocks and smooth pebbles. The 22-year-old didn't have to imagine it, because it was all there. I just sat for an hour, listening to the waves, sort of thinking about plans but also thinking about nothing.