In honor of Easter, I absolutely must share this hilarious David Sedaris essay about the students in his French class in Paris trying to describe Easter to a Moroccan student. I tried to find a clip of him reading it, but to no avail. So, I present to you the text:
"Jesus Shaves", by David Sedaris
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This was my music of choice while baking some Easter treats today. Martin Sexton's "Happy" makes me feel...well...happy! As usual, I recommend just listening, as the video, in this case: lyrics popping up on the screen, kind of takes away from it. Here's a good ol' fashioned feel good tune, baby:
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I found this poem a couple days ago and I LOVE it. I was initially drawn to it because of the title (of course), but the poem itself just...breathes. It's perfect and I think that on one level or another, it's something we can all relate to.
TIGERS, by Eliza Griswold
What are we now but voices
who promise each other a life
neither one can deliver
not for lack of wanting
but wanting won't make it so.
We cling to a vine
at the cliff's edge.
There are tigers above
and below. Let us love
one another and let go.
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So simple. So sweet.
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So, I cannot believe I am about to admit this, but, at age 23 this was my 1st easter w/o an Easter basket. A true sign that I have entered adulthood (although I confess, I checked my mailbox everyday last week hoping to see a little package slip...aka: a basket from my mom/mr. bunny). Even in Paris I got a basket from across seas! I remember it distinctly, in fact, as it arrived on the same day that a sizable pack of scrawny teenaged boys emerged from the metro stop and attempted to sexually harass cathy, katherine, and I. A couple of the guys tried to pull Katherine's pants down, one dude licked my face (I scrubbed like it was my job when I got back to my apartment) and as for Cathy...I don't really remember? I believe she swatted at them with her gigantic purse. I tossed out every curse I knew in French and it was over as soon as it began. Sadly, this wasn't even viewed as a completely bizarre event in the midst of our Parisian experience...that's just how Parisians roll. At least the 17 yr old garcons.
Anyway, that occurred en route to my apartment to pick up the basket that my mother had lovingly sent to my friends and I. When we made it there in one piece, we opened a big box to find glorious heaps of Champlain chocolate bunnies, big jelly beans, glittery grass, gummy candies, and best of all, my mom's famous homemade sugar cookies with pastel-colored frosting. Ah yes, what a night.
I was on the phone with my mom earlier today and gently slipped in a quiet, "so...this is my first Easter with no basket. Weird, I feel so grown-up! It only took 23 years!"
My poor little mama, she felt so bad! And of course, I wasn't trying to make her feel bad...I mean, it is a little ridiculous that I was even getting baskets beyond the age of 12, but she said, "Oh, Julia! I feel so bad! I was thinking that people just didnt really care or appreciate them anymore.."
"Mom, don't feel bad, pleeeease. 'Twas but an observation."
"Well new rule: you guys will be getting baskets until you have kids. I think that's reasonable"
Haha, how adorable is she?! So precious. So I guess the baskets start again next year. Nice. About five more years of baskets ahead of me...(assuming I have a child at 29/30, which would be ideal)
Anyway, I'm embarrassed that I put that on the blog. Don't judge. I'm still a little girl at heart. A little girl who does her own taxes on a Sunday afternoon (shabam!)
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Honeybees in danger?!?!
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Whoever thinks that Miss Universe is just a pretty face, suck on this:
[oh wait...you're right]
This is unbelievable--
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Just when we thought that bad pick-up lines had left the scene, Mr. Slick strikes up a conversation with me in the bathroom line. Around 4pm today, the conversation (if you can call it that) went like so (S= slick, J= Julia):
about 5 people waiting in line...silence for about 3 minutes. Then, out of nowhere:
S: Are those Adidas?
[3 second awkward pause]
J: Excuse me?
S: Your sneakers, are they Adidas?
J: Oh, no...they're Gola. It's an English brand
[this guys had an English accent, I figured he'd know. It's not a rare brand.]
S: Oh, I saw the stripes and...uh...thought maybe Adidas
J: Hm, nope.
[I offer a weird sort of polite smile...kind, yet indicating the conversation was over, I turn to find something on the wall to stare at]
45 seconds later (when any normal person would consider the conversation long gone)--
S: Are they comfortable?
J: Uh...ya. You know...sneakers
S: Yup, sneakers
[He takes an unnecessarily large breath and looks around]
S: Man, this place is ancient!
J: Yeah. I love it.
S: It's fantastic
--then a woman comes from behind him and says, "let's just go honey, this line is too long, we'll find somewhere else". His girlfriend. A classy guy all-around. Good stuff.
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Visitors next weekend! Yaaaaaay!
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Time is going by so quickly....it's weird. Neither good nor bad. Just fast.
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Joy, my love, joy in all things,
in what falls and what flourishes.
Joy in today and yesterday,
the day before and tomorrow.
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