MOROCCO

While living in Paris last year, I went to Morocco with my family when they came to visit me between semesters.  I’m definitely going back to Morocco as soon as I can.  It’s a beautiful city with beautiful people.  They’re so welcoming – and it’s not fake.  They are genuinely interested in you and where you come from.  They love to show you what their daily life is like.  They love to take you away from the touristy stuff and invite you into their homes for mint tea and biscuits.  They treat you as a good friend, and those are the kind of people you want to meet while traveling.

Everywhere you turn there’s an amazing opportunity for another beautiful photo.

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It’s so incredibly easy to get lost in the maze of narrow winding streets that are the back alleys of Marrakech, but it’s cool because it kind of makes you feel like an explorer.  I suggest dedicating an entire day to exploring the back streets (although you won’t have even scratched the surface after one day).  Don’t forget the essentials – comfortable shoes, a bottle of water, and most importantly, your camera.

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The building in which we stayed was absolutely gorgeous and we were treated like royalty.  This was clearly a place where tourists stayed, but it was amazing nonetheless.

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I really enjoyed photographing this city because it’s  full of color.  Quite different from the Parisian winter I had left behind.

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Rooftop café with my beautiful mother.

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A visit to the Ben Youssef Medersa Islamic College.

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This mosque is exclusively reserved for the muslim religious practice. (Private) Thank you.

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Making friends.

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The orange pressée is beyond delicious.  Regular (American) orange juice didn’t cut it before, and now it definitely doesn’t.

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Yes, those are mountains in the background!

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This shot of the two boys on the rooftop is one of my favorite shots from this trip.

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We were on a mission to buy one of these gorgeous handmade rugs, but got side-tracked.  The lovely woman gave us a free lesson on how she makes them.  Very complicated.  Props to her for doing that all day every day.

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Leaving early in the morning to catch our flight back to Paris.

Morocco was very good to us.

Bisous.

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PUISQUE TOUT EST NORMAL

I’ve been thinking about starting up a fashion blog because, sometimes, I really like my outfits.  As I’ve already got this blog running, I’ve decided to pepper in some fashion posts here and there – starting with this one.  Yesterday, Doug and I ran around this festive outdoor mall on the east side of Michigan and messed around with my camera.  Below are the results.

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The countdown to Paris is currently at a month and a half.  Can’t wait to have the city of lights as my background for these posts and also can’t wait to write posts on my daily life while interning there!  Hope everyone’s keeping warm – have a lovely end of the year and an even better start to the new year.

Coat – Maison Scotch

Shirt – JC Penny

Jeans – Allsaints Spitalfields

Shoes – Timberland

Bag – Longchamp

Thanks to Doug for taking all of these!  If you’re a user of Tumblr or Instagram, go give him a follow!

Instagram – http://instagram.com/project_earth

Tumblr – http://unknown-immortal.tumblr.com

Bisous.

Garde le pour toi.

Ça fait longtemps, hein ?  It was midterm time and so the past month I’ve been busier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.  I’ve missed blogging!  Anyway here’s a (somewhat funny) story for you:

One day after class, Elena and I were wandering around near Etienne Marcel looking for a place to eat dinner.  We turned down an alley and came across this café – everyone was seated outside à la terrasse.  We weren’t really feeling the outside seating that evening so we hesitantly walked inside, not sure whether there was some unspoken rule known by all Parisians that stated that inside seating was only available between certain hours.  We grabbed a spot next to the window.  While browsing the menu, I happened to notice we had company.  This little guy…

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Five minutes of picture taking with our new friend and still no one had come to take our order.  It was a small café so it wasn’t like the waiters couldn’t see us – there were literally 10 feet separating us from the bar where they were all gathered.  We had even made eye contact with a few of them, but still none of them came over to our table.  Feeling intimidated and quite aware that we were the only customers seated inside the café, we decided that instead of getting up and calling a waiter over, we would just get up quietly and leave as quickly as possible.  We gave the cat one last cuddle and peaced out.  We were so humiliated – how un-parisian.

I guess you could say we gained back some cool points since we were on our way to Art Corpus (tattoo & piercing parlor) to get Elena’s nose pierced.  I followed her to the back of the shop and watched the guy clean out her nose, and finally put in the piercing.  It suits her.  Nose piercings only suit some people – she’s one of them.

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It’s a shame we were too lame to stick it out at that café.  The menu looked amazing.  Instead we ended up getting some shitty Asian food from a sketchy buffet style restaurant round the corner.  Totally would’ve rather eaten with le petit chat.

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Bisous.

Paris.

Les larmes de la Seine

Qui sautent à mes pieds

Y arrivent à peine

Mais toujours elles essayent.

~

Une heure passe,

Deux heures, trois heures.

Finalement je me lève

Et je joue le flâneur.

~

Sans le savoir

La nuit est arrivée.

On se rejoint à Hôtel de Ville,

J’arrive te chercher.

~

Une tasse de chocolat chaud

Trop épaisse, trop forte.

On ajoute la chantilly,

On devient chimiste en quelque sorte.

~

Ok j’en peux plus.

Comme c’est dégueulasse.

J’ai juste envie d’une cigarette

Après tout, on s’est assise sur la terrasse.

~

Un café et une clope

Ça c’est la France.

Avec une vue sur la tour

Merde, on a vraiment de la chance.

~

Puis c’est du vin,

J’enlève une deuxième cigarette.

Je fume et je bois,

Un rideau de fumée devant la tête.

~

Une taffe finale,

Sors les tickets restaurants.

Allez, on y va

Direction les Champs.

~

Ils nous disent que “fumer tue”

Qu’on n’est pas immortel.

Franchement, on s’en fout,

C’est les petits vices qui rendent la vie belle.

Je crois que je t’aime, etc. etc.

Ah merde.  Il va me voir comme ça.  Je me suis même pas brossé les dents.  Le mascara est partout sur mon visage.  Je suis sûre que je sens horrible.  Est-ce que j’ai pris une douche hier?  Je me souviens plus.  J’ai vraiment besoin d’une douche quand même.  Merde, putain, putain de merde, il se réveille, il se tourne vers moi – je fais sembler que je me réveille en même temps – il s’ouvre les yeux-

Il me sourit et il m’embrasse.  Il me serre dans ses bras.

Tout va bien.

On reste au lit pendant une heure.  Puis on s’habille et sort de l’appartement.  On marche main dans la main jusqu’au Champs-Élysées où on descend l’escalier du métro George V.  On passe le Navigo sur le truc, on arrive à peine au quai pour prendre le prochain train.  On change de la ligne 1 à Concorde à la ligne 12.  C’est à Pasteur où je le laisse.  On s’embrasse encore une fois et je sors du métro.

Je marche chez moi comme je m’étais habillée la dernière nuit, et j’ai envie de recommencer.

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Bisous.

Ils sont tous des cons de toute façon.

This week and next week are midterms et du coup, I don’t have much time to write one of my usual posts. I’ll post a few pictures though, they’re worth a thousand words, right?

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Bisous.

Oh, petit cœur

Souviens-toi de la ville,

De la tour, du vin

Oh petit cœur, c’est pas la fin.

~

Il n’est plus là pour prendre ta main

Tant mieux pour toi

Ça va aller, tu verras.

~

Il y aura un jour

Je te promets, il va arriver.

Un jour plein de joie, plein d’amour, et ça va rester.

~

Embrasse la tristesse

Et ton immense chagrin

Mais oh petit cœur, c’est pas la fin.

Je suis pas bourrée.

Tout est allumé, et je suis là

Paralysée, les yeux ouverts, mais je ne peux rien voir.

~

J’ai pas trop bu, j’suis pas bourrée

Ça me fait tellement mal, mais je continue y penser.

~

Personne peut m’aider, tout est ma faute

Que je sois heureuse ou fâchée, ça dépend pas d’un autre.

~

Alors je continue, mal au coeur, mal au ventre

Mais écoute-moi bien, c’est sûr que j’y rentre.

Je t’aimais pas.

Je t’aimais pas.

Je voulais,  je m’ai fait croire

Que c’était le cas

Mais je vois bien dans le noir.

~

Toi, avec ta nouvelle

Et moi, avec ce bordel

~

Merci beaucoup, hein

Vraiment, c’est sympa.

J’y vais plus songer,

Je vais plus demander pourquoi.

~

C’était bien, et maintenant c’est fini.

Je pleurerai plus, je garde le contrôle de ma vie.

~

Ah, ouais, je me souviens,

“Ma Rosie, soit forte.”

Merci pour tes conseils.

Sur toi, je ferme bien la porte.

Insatisfaite.

Maintenant que je ne suis plus à Paris (j’y reviens en février, t’inquiètes pas), je me rends compte qu’il y a beaucoup de choses dont lesquelles je n’ai pas pris des bonnes photos.  Particulièrement, l’Hôtel de Ville.  Je n’ai quasiment aucune photo de ce bâtiment magnifique.   Donc, ce poste va servir comme un petit rappel de prendre plus de photos de ces endroits quand je suis encore à Paris l’année prochaine.

Alors voici les endroits où il faut que je prenne beaucoup plus de photos.

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Bisous.