petite anglaise

September 10, 2006


Filed under: city of light, single life — petiteanglaiseparis @ 10:19 pm

When I finally took a peek out of my window, towards 2 pm, I was dazzled by unexpectedly bright sunlight. And yet, for some perverse reason, I decided it was a perfect day for an outing to the cinema. A perfect day for sitting in darkness, indoors, alone.

Once upon a time, there was a petite anglaise who lived on rue de la Roquette, and taught English part-time for twelve, maybe sixteen hours a week. She had a student card, and an MK2 cinema card (in those days, the chain of art house cinemas were called Les Cinemas 14 Juillet) and she went to the cinema three, maybe four times a week. Between classes, to kill time, she often went to the morning showing (25 francs). When her apartment refused to warm up in the middle of winter, she saw two films back to back while her toes gradually thawed.

In her time with Mr Frog she still went often, although this sometimes meant reaching a somewhat unsatisfactory compromise. She liked thoughtful, challenging, whimsical; he liked car chases, guns and mechanically working his way through a bucket of (salted) popcorn. Sunday afternoons were often spent zipping down to Bercy Village on the Vespa, munching on a Bresaola toasted sandwich and queuing up for the latest blockbuster. Then Tadpole was born, and suddenly the cinema became a prohibitively expensive outing: €21 in babysitting fees before any tickets (or popcorn) had even been factored in to the equation.

Nowadays, although I have a little more time to myself, I tend to want to spend my precious freedom wisely, preferring to see a friend for a leisurely brunch, or a few drinks, rather than sitting companiably in the dark.

But today I returned and got bitten by the cinema bug all over again.

I bought a ticket for the mid-afternoon showing of Michel Gondry’s The Science of Sleep, then retired to the outdoor terrasse, where I sipped a café crème and nibbled on a cannelé for half an hour, my nose in a book. At the appointed hour I chose the perfect seat (a third from the front, in the middle of the row) and kicked off my flip flops, tucking my feet up under my skirt. The room was sparsely populated and quiet. As the lights went down I felt a familiar tingle of anticipation.

The film was quirky, endearing and occasionally laugh out loud funny. Gael Garcia Bernal was rather delectable in his ill-fitting, large collared suit. Losing myself in a dreamscape filled with stuffed toys, cardboard toilet rolls and eggboxes for a couple of hours was glorious escapism.

As the credits drew to a close, I strolled out into the sunshine and stretched like a cat. Glancing at my watch, I was pleased to note I had a whole hour to kill before Tadpole o’clock. I stopped at a café I’d never even noticed before, on a whim. A table in the sun. The sound of djembé players drifting over from somewhere near the canal. An occasional métro aérien screeching across the metal bridge from Jaurès to Stalingrad. Scenes from the film replaying in my head. A crisp, cold pression. One of the best croque monsieur‘s I have sampled in years (it’s all in the topping – and this one was oozing to perfection with thick coating of bechamel).


There was only one false note. From time to time I found myself missing a certain someone. It crossed my mind, fleetingly, that Mr Frog would have loved the film; that he would have adored the café. We would have sat in companiable silence (popcorn chewing excepted), conversation unnecessary.

Ironic, isn’t it, that I should find myself wishing I could spend a few hours of my precious freedom with the one person who can’t be there. Freedom, it seems, comes at a price. And situations are never quite as clear cut as they first appear.


  1. i’m drunk. reading your blog on a sunday night. what’s wrong with this picture?

    Comment by melani — September 10, 2006 @ 10:40 pm

  2. Hi, and belated happy birthday! Have you seen today’s Observer Woman magazine, featuring you and other female “confessional” bloggers including Stephanie Klein and Zoe Margolis (Girl with a One-Track Mind)? Nice big colour pic of you! But your inclusion is interesting, as all the others have or have had blogs that are considerably more explicit… I guess your new fame meant it was logical for you to be included. That and the good pic anyway! The article’s interesting, I hope you do get to see it.

    When I lived in Germany for a year as a student teacher, going to the cinema alone was one of my new-found pleasures. Nowadays I’m more likely to being going to see the latest PG certificate offering with my boys…but I still get a little thrill when the lights go down!

    Comment by Helen — September 10, 2006 @ 10:45 pm

  3. I think it’s lovely that your relationship with Mr Frog is so close that you miss his company at times. Freedom is good but I agree companiable silence, no conversation necessary is a joy. Perhaps you and Mr Frog might…well, you know, maybe one day, after all, you do seem very fond of each other and he is Tadpole’s Daddy.

    Comment by Lucy — September 10, 2006 @ 11:15 pm

  4. It is always nice to read about someone who enjoys the simple pleasure of going to the movies (cinema), even if it is by onesself. While renting a DVD is convenient, there is something about sitting in a darkened cinema with strangers, reacting with them to the events unfolding on the screen. The only thing better than that is live theatre. (Then again, I am a part-time actor, so I am a little prejudiced…….)

    Not so ironic Petite….Time heals, but love can always linger…….

    Comment by Dave of the Lake — September 10, 2006 @ 11:21 pm

  5. Sounds like a(n almost) perfect day in Paris to me! You know, for years after I broke up with my ex-boyfriend there were still times I’d see something or hear something and think: “Wow, I really wish I could share that with him, he’d have loved that.” But as you so correctly put it, freedom sometimes does come at a price… but one that is often worth paying.

    Comment by The Bold Soul — September 10, 2006 @ 11:54 pm

  6. Humm … Doesn’t Mr Frog read this blog ?
    Can you write here freely about your private life and thoughts ?

    Comment by Yogi — September 10, 2006 @ 11:54 pm

  7. Oh, I almost forgot… did I mention yet that I am moving to Paris on November 10th? Yes, I’m finally going to do it! So hope to meet up with you at some point, at the next bloggers thing or elsewhere (maybe even a movie?) if you’re game for that.

    Comment by The Bold Soul — September 10, 2006 @ 11:56 pm

  8. Dear Petite, your post today was all about the theme of my own day – so you inspired me to write about freedom and its price too. I’ve linked my opening line of today’s post back to yours. With much admiration, Livvy U.

    Comment by Livvy U — September 11, 2006 @ 12:16 am

  9. I Was thinking, “what a gret day.” Right up to where you wrote, Bliss. After that I couldn’t help but feel sad.

    Love is a real pain at times

    Comment by Mad William — September 11, 2006 @ 12:47 am

  10. How funny that you should post about the cinema today. We just drove round Etoile this evening after a day out en famille and I thought (wistfully) about all the times I/we went to see a film on the Champs Elysees on a Sunday afternoon or evening. And yet again, I found myself thinking that I’d soon be able to do that again and then realised that actually I won’t. Ever. Well, Disney films in a few years I suppose, but won’t be quite the same.

    When I was an au pair I used to go to the cinema about 4 or 5 times a week. To the 11am showing often, and to keep warm at the week-ends! Loved the Action Ecoles, Action Rive Gauche etc cinemas in the 5th. Wonder if they are still there.

    Comment by kjr — September 11, 2006 @ 12:57 am

  11. I just went to see Factotum on my own. I flatly refuse to go to the cinema with anyone else. But yes, I remember seeing Y Tu Mama Tambien, which also features Mr Gael Garcia, and wishing that I could turn to… who? right at the end…

    Comment by mimi — September 11, 2006 @ 2:20 am

  12. Maybe you and Mr frog should go to the movies…

    Comment by simon — September 11, 2006 @ 5:18 am

  13. ah, a nice, blissful me day in Paris. Sounds perfect, except for the empty seat beside you. Hmmm…life is like that, you know. We get to a place we’ve been wanting to get to and it’s a perfectly pleasant place, but something is missing…I daresay, I envy your day. I used to love to spend afternoons in dark cinemas, but I moved to a small town and the luxury is no more. dawn

    Comment by dawn — September 11, 2006 @ 5:36 am

  14. Belated Happy Birthday fellow Virgo! My birthday starts in a few minutes. There is something so enjoyable about going to movie alone. It feels like a guilty pleasure.

    Comment by Anali — September 11, 2006 @ 5:55 am

  15. simon – the whole reason I could go was because Mr Frog was with Tadpole. See the conundrum. I felt the same about the Batofar – every time a favourite track of his came on…

    Comment by petite — September 11, 2006 @ 7:48 am

  16. Love the way you write, love the way you portray Paris life. My Parisian decade was the seventies, but so much has stayed the same, even if cinemas occasionally change their name. I get back twice a year, with the Emirates flights from Dubai marked as two of the three most important dates of the year. The third red-letter day is the birthday of my own Tadpole (who I would have to nickname MacKaulquappe, since she’s half German and half Scottish!)who loves Paris as much as I do.

    Having found you via the Observer article I shall now be a regular reader with Gainsbarre playing in the background.

    Comment by Malcolm Thomson — September 11, 2006 @ 8:33 am

  17. Yes. That’s the duality/conflict of heart Petite.

    Comment by simon — September 11, 2006 @ 9:21 am

  18. Ah! Freedom, don’t we all just want it? In the words of the Country artist Kris Kristofferson: “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose”.
    Or the inimicable French ballerina Sylvie Guillem: “If you are afraid of losing something you are dependent on it; if you are not afraid then you are free”.

    Comment by Jim — September 11, 2006 @ 9:31 am

  19. Hello there! Haven’t commented for a while – in fact, not since your newly found global fame, and associated problems that lead to you tumbling into the limelight…but been quietly reading away anyhow.

    And now I’ve got to the point I have to comment…my brain has gone blank. Something prompted me to write about this one, but what more can someone add to what you’ve said already?

    I think elegiac is the word.

    Comment by Dave — September 11, 2006 @ 10:49 am

  20. Well, freedom wouldn’t be freedom if there wasn’t a price to pay.
    Saw that movie, I loved it. And if it makes you want to listen to Charlotte Gainsbourg’s CD, it is quite good, too.

    Comment by pardonmyfrench — September 11, 2006 @ 11:53 am

  21. Freedom is never appreciated as much as when you don’t have it. And sometimes feels lonely when you do.

    Comment by BlondebutBright — September 11, 2006 @ 12:00 pm

  22. i really enjoyed that post (well written). i haven’t been to the movie theater since i moved to sweden. there is only one in our village and they only play the big US blockbusters and i’m more of a “quirky movie” gal. reading your post made me long for the big screen!

    Comment by defensivetwat — September 11, 2006 @ 12:00 pm

  23. Hi Petite,

    Hire a babysitter (or con a friend into it) and grab a film and coffer with Mr. Frog. You can have the best of both worlds!


    p.s. glad to see all *the fuss* hasn’t kept you away from writing great posts!

    Comment by Just Dazzle — September 11, 2006 @ 12:17 pm

  24. Hi petite! Loving your blog… I am a Russian married to a grenouille, however we never lived together in France, sadly. Spent 6 years in Tokyo and now London.
    I can understand the nostalgia you feel. Friends, lovers, when they go leave a void in our souls behind.
    And yet it sometimes better to go to the movies on your own :))) Last week we went to see in Soho Scanner Darkly, despite my protests (i am not that really into keanu), however my hubby “blissfully” fell a sleep after the first features, while i was left to watch what actually turned out to be quite an outstanding piece of cinematography.

    Comment by mashunya — September 11, 2006 @ 12:37 pm

  25. i love this entry. i’m inspired to see a movie too. it’s a simple luxury so easily forgotten.

    Comment by mary quite contrary — September 11, 2006 @ 12:46 pm

  26. Dear Petite,

    I write to invite you to take part in research which explores the privacy attitudes and expectations of bloggers.

    Why I’m conducting this research…?
    Blogs are raising a number of legal issues regarding privacy and employment practices which merit further investigation so that policies or appropriate laws may be formulated in this area. It is important to seek the views of bloggers as laws will only be successful if they have their support.

    What will happen your answers…?
    If you participate you will be asked to answer questions anonymously about your blogging practices and your expectations of privacy when publishing online. All answers will be stored and analysed on a confidential basis. The responses will be used to inform academic discussion of blogging practices and attitudes towards privacy.

    Please click to take part in the survey:

    Finally, could you please encourage other bloggers to participate in the study.

    For further information on my research please visit or email:

    I am a PhD researcher at CCSR, University of Manchester. I am sponsored by the ESRC and Office of the Information Commissioner, UK.

    Many thanks!!

    Karen Mc Cullagh

    p.s. I’m sorry to learn that you were dooced. I wish you success in your employment action in the French legal system. I’m glad to see that you have received a lot of positive publicity and look forward to reading your future posts.
    p.p.s. Belated Birthday wishes!

    Comment by Karen Mc Cullagh — September 11, 2006 @ 1:26 pm

  27. Happy (belated) Bidet/B’day!

    The freedom of having the kind of ‘free’ life that we’d like to have means living it alone… discuss.

    There’s a wisp of isolation here Petite, a thing that some might jump at whilst others may shun… no?

    Wishing for Tadpole’s father though (wistfully?), a habit remembered or a true feeling of the here and now I wonder.

    Congratulations for finding something worth watching at the cinema though!

    Comment by TryingTimes — September 11, 2006 @ 1:39 pm

  28. I used to go to the cinema every week religiously with my ex-partner. I could go on my own, but it’s not the same.

    Comment by Banana — September 11, 2006 @ 2:00 pm

  29. A belated happy 34th birthday, Petite. I’ve been away and wasn’t around to send it sooner. I reckon you’re now at the peak of your prodigious powers. I believe we’ll soon see you soar up and away into the stratosphere.
    I also had time to listen to your channel 4 interview. I enjoyed it immensely. As with your blog you are not afraid to reveal yourself. It was great to put a lovely voice to the words.
    Mr Frog probably would have enjoyed the film, but from your comments it would’ve been one of the few where your movie interests coincided.

    Comment by Gil — September 11, 2006 @ 2:38 pm

  30. Croque Monsieur.. delicious and the Croque Madame as well, that’s the one with an egg on top isn’t it? I forget.

    Bit sad about Tadpole’s father…I suppose it’s only when you have time to stop and think about things in your own time that memories etc come back…keep busy, thats what I do.


    Comment by heather — September 11, 2006 @ 2:50 pm

  31. I live far enough outside Paris to be grateful that there is a cinema about 20km away that shows English/American films in VO.

    Of course… I watch French films in French… :-j

    The last film we went to see was Ken Loachs The Wind that Shakes the Barley”.

    Comment by John N — September 11, 2006 @ 2:52 pm

  32. Just to say thanks for the beautiful post, petite.

    Comment by ontario frog — September 11, 2006 @ 3:29 pm

  33. I am so disappointed to learn that you wear flip-flops. This is like the negation of style, the nadir of esthetics, the abbyss of fashion, it should be forbidden in Paris before it’s too late. My image of you as a sophisticated woman is crumbling right now, melting like snow under the sun :)

    Happy birthday, by the way.

    Comment by Guillermito — September 11, 2006 @ 3:52 pm

  34. Were you on your own on yer birfday? :-(

    I store up such moments in long encyclopedic pile of evidence against every man, past and present, in my life.
    I don’t intend to, the thought kind of kicks in.
    Transition period is hard. It’s a constant two steps forward, one step back. You feel messed around. But keep pushing yourself forward. You left for a reason, if he changes that reason, okay. But if he doesn’t, or can’t, it’s hands to the plough and starting again.
    I’m so glad you could relax about it. This brought back memories- as usual.
    I think you know the transition period is positive when you crave the explorative solitude you enjoyed there.

    Comment by fjl — September 11, 2006 @ 3:53 pm

  35. Ah…the reflective nature of time spent in a dark theatre alone. Have to say this is far less depressing than eating in a busy restaurant alone. While I concur that we have to let go and go for it on our own to become who we were always meant to be; it doesn’t mean that there are not moments when the emotions we feel require every bit of our new found strength.

    Comment by Sam — September 11, 2006 @ 4:41 pm

  36. You’ve been in a Paris a decade now?

    You poor poor soul :(

    Comment by Amy — September 11, 2006 @ 4:43 pm

  37. so – it’s not just me that does that duality/conflict of the heart thing! phew…

    Happy Birthday tooooo you!

    Comment by northerncreative — September 11, 2006 @ 5:30 pm

  38. I feel compelled to quote Devo — “freedom of choice, that’s what you’ve got; freedom from choice, that’s what you want”.

    Comment by Lost in France — September 11, 2006 @ 6:10 pm

  39. Do you think there are films that would work for all three of you?

    Not the point of your lovely post, I know.

    But Tadpole might like it.

    Comment by Andrew — September 11, 2006 @ 6:31 pm

  40. Poor Mr Frog, he’ll read what he’s missed and be a little bit jealous, I think….I know I am. Others have already said it, but I’ll add my compliments to the pile. Lovely writing there. I know you’re not about to rekindle the ‘Froggy fire’, petite, but you surely realise that by writing a post like this one you’re going to bring out the Walt Disney in your readership? Are you sure you want a slew of comments saying ‘aaaaahhhh think how much it would mean to Tadpole’ ‘it would be a real happy ending’ ‘he’s the father of your child after all, you must love him’ ? Is that what you’re after? Or are you trying to tell us something? Or, as I suspect, are you just teasing?

    Comment by suziboo — September 11, 2006 @ 6:33 pm

  41. I’m surprised and secretly very relieved that there have not been a slew of “why don’t you try again” comments. My readers obviously know me better than that.

    I think, although I love being single right now, I was feeling a bit nostalgic for the sharing things part of a relationship.

    Comment by petite — September 11, 2006 @ 6:35 pm

  42. *sighs with relief* Thank God for that. I thought for a second you’d gone all Happy Ever After on us. Should have known better.

    Comment by suziboo — September 11, 2006 @ 6:44 pm

  43. I love Cinemas on Sunny days.

    Comment by Buffy — September 11, 2006 @ 7:19 pm

  44. How much easier life would be if your family lived just round the corner. I am sure that Granny and Grandad (or Mamie and Papy) would be delighted to look after Tadpole for a few hours while you and Mr Frog went off to the cinema à deux. No matter how much friends implore you to treat them as family, I know that I never felt comfortable imposing myself on them if I was ill or needed something other than a small favour. It was one of the things I found hardest about being an expat; it’s much easier to impose on family than friends – you know they will do the same to you some day – and the only cost is emotional unlike the babysitter

    Comment by tricky — September 11, 2006 @ 7:43 pm

  45. I know this might be a really stupid question (im rather internationally challenged) but what exactly ARE croque mosieur/madames? Theyve always translated as toasties but… I still dont get it. Arent toasties two slices of toast with something in the middle intead of on top? Is that the only difference? Or are the croques just one slice of bread with random foodstuffs on top? If thats so, why make the eggy one a woman?

    Comment by Whisper — September 11, 2006 @ 8:43 pm

  46. My hubby works away quite a lot and so we have a certain amount of freedom when we are apart, although we miss each other like crazy and when we see each other again we are like young lovers in the first throes of romance. Sometimes I think we have the best of both worlds. I think it’s good for you to enjoy your freedom while you can but I find one of the best things about going to the cinema is dicussing what I have seen with a companion afterwards. Perhaps you could join a babysitting circle, then you could have the occasional outing with Mr Frog.

    I think we all have doubts about our situation at times, we wouldn’t be human otherwise but you seem to be enjoying life so that is the most important thing at the end of the day.

    Comment by Susannah — September 11, 2006 @ 9:11 pm

  47. My husband and I used to frequent the cinema sooo much, even when we lived in Paris and were penniless- 11am showings were always cheap though.
    Now our tadpole has arrived though, sadly I miss our film outings. We have had one- a scanner darkly, while baby stayed with granny- and it was a complete over-stimulation experience for us- the music, adverts etc (we don’t have TV at home) – made it an exciting day, and felt much longer than the couple of hours it was.

    Comment by Joy — September 11, 2006 @ 10:28 pm

  48. “I think, although I love being single right now, I was feeling a bit nostalgic for the sharing things part of a relationship”

    It seems we’re all living with our ghosts


    Comment by P — September 11, 2006 @ 11:38 pm

  49. I think that anyone that can move on from a true relationship whether lover, friend or family and experience no regret … no flashes of wanting to share pieces of their life … isn’t much of a person at all.

    We all move on, and we know we’ve really done it when the flash of yearning for one who is more out of than in our life is quickly filled by the space of that new and special person who loves us right now, just as we are.

    Comment by dora pirate — September 12, 2006 @ 12:39 am

  50. Comment 18 & 41. Jim:- Great quote of Sylvies and you are right.

    (See you in a few weeks. VB’s are cooling down mate ;o))

    Petite:- generally once the “spark” or whatever you want to call it has gone…its gone..

    Comment by simon — September 12, 2006 @ 1:25 am

  51. This reader definitely thinks its time to fly solo for a while. Plus T of course.
    Shame you can’t blog about lawyers, agents, deals, something – I miss reading about the officey part of your existence.

    Comment by Andrew — September 12, 2006 @ 1:32 am

  52. The officey part only merited about 10 posts back in the day, it’s funny, it seemed to loom larger, didn’t it?

    The thing is, I’m not working in one any more, so that’s why I don’t write about work. Work is me and my computer these days, from home. And when there is some proper news, you will be the first to know.

    But I did find out yesterday that I am due at the Prud’hommes tomorrow for “conciliation”. (My letter never arrived.) Which will be interesting…

    Comment by petite — September 12, 2006 @ 7:37 am

  53. good luck

    Comment by simon — September 12, 2006 @ 9:06 am

  54. I’ve tried to avoid asking this question, hoping trough some osmosis, that i’d just ‘get it’ but what does ‘dooced’ mean. Don’t be basic, I get the sacked bit but don’t know either the source of dooced or how on earth to pronounce it.
    I have quite a spawn of Tadpoles, enough to carry home in a welly boot, so haven’t been to the pictures in eons. Would love to see Volver, but Plymouth ‘Chav Central’ obviously does not think anyone would go and see it, although months ago I went to see Romance and Cigarettes. Not only did I go alone, but I was the only person in the cinema. It was fantastic.

    Comment by Welsh Cake — September 12, 2006 @ 9:17 am

  55. I’m very envious of your choice of cinemas there in Paris. I remember my ‘big city’ days being full of movie temptations too. In bocca al lupo! (Good luck)

    Comment by Britalian — September 12, 2006 @ 9:22 am

  56. There was a time, about 20 years ago (sic! I’m 42 now..) during the very rebel years of my life,I used to go to the movies alone watching 3 films in a row (!) travel alone wherever I got friends around the world etc..I remember carrying this bitter feeling somewhere inside me for not sharing with anyone the magic of a film or of a special scenery but as someone said “freedom wouldn’t be freedom if there wasn’t a price to pay”..And I stuck to the “mieux vaut etre seul(e) que mal accompagne(e) thing, which was rather “reconfortant”!
    Lovely post and thanx 4 sharing your feelings with us..
    Happy birthday, didn’t have the time to read you this week-end and yesterday it was in Greece “la rentree” so I spent the whole day with my little monsters, at school first then to the shops buying the requested staff..
    I dropped an e-mail a couple days ago with an attachment for you and tadpole, hope you received it..
    And good luck at the Prud’hommes! Wish you the best!

    Comment by LEO — September 12, 2006 @ 9:34 am

  57. Hi Welsh Cake,
    Heather Armstrong started a website in 2001. She wrote under the pseudonym Dooce. A year later she was fired from her job because she had written stories that included people in her workplace.

    Armstrong’s domain name has since become an internet neologism: to be “dooced” is to lose one’s job as a result of something one wrote on the internet.

    Comment by Karen Mc Cullagh — September 12, 2006 @ 10:12 am

  58. Good luck at the “Prud’hommes”. I hope the “conciliation” goes well for you.

    Comment by Karen Mc Cullagh — September 12, 2006 @ 10:14 am

  59. Petite,

    Thank you for posting the link to my research on Bloggers privacy attitudes and expectations. I really appreciate the help!
    Please encourgage bloggers to complete the whole survey.

    It takes less than 5 mins…

    Comment by Karen Mc Cullagh — September 12, 2006 @ 10:17 am

  60. I’d like to know how you manage to stay in bed / asleep until 2pm – I have a 21 month old and I wake up at 0730hrs every morning whether I want to or not (ie when she’s not there…my body still thinks she is…)


    Comment by Wendy in Herault — September 12, 2006 @ 11:55 am

  61. an excess of pink champagne

    Comment by petite — September 12, 2006 @ 12:52 pm

  62. Boootiful. Being a stay-at-home mum I’m fortunate to be able to “squeeze” a morning’s cinema in once in a while (although I had far more time on my hands when I was a career exec.)
    But your nostalgia – I see it and feel it oft. Hubby is a wonderful man, we have many of the same tastes, but sometimes just to skip off to the cinema alone is a bittersweet pleasure. Living in the “Northern Suburbs” of Joburg, filled with non-working mums, the cinema is oddly free in the mornings – they are all out shopping and having coffee with each other. So, I have an entire theatre to myself, and enjoy the ambience despite having a home theatre system complete with huge widescreen telly and top-of-range sound – better than at the cinema – you just can’t top that “feeling” and having a latte before or afterwards with a book in a quaint little coffee shop. Being Served With Style is what it’s about for me ;)

    Comment by Cat — September 12, 2006 @ 1:19 pm

  63. Welsh Cake,

    Heather’s site is Now she’s married, has a child and makes $$$$ off the advertising on her site as does her husband on his.

    Comment by jersey girl (that's New Jersey, USA) — September 12, 2006 @ 1:58 pm

  64. Funny coincidence, I split from my daughter’s father over 20 years ago and last night I dreamed we erm…reconciled. I don’t think it ever goes away when you truly love someone.

    Comment by Jules — September 12, 2006 @ 3:44 pm

  65. “conciliation” – how was it for you?

    And if they didn’t offer to cram your mouth with gold in exchange for your silence you can have fun writing witty stuff about them, and their lawyers. A choice apercu, a few glancing blows, a feint – then the full body slam. You’re the expert…

    Comment by Andrew — September 13, 2006 @ 2:35 am

  66. I certainly don’t intend to accept gold in exchange for silence. I think it would leave a very nasty taste.

    Comment by petite — September 13, 2006 @ 7:35 am

  67. Thanks for the endorsement of the Science of Sleep. It’s just opened at the art house near us and the preview looked interesting. I’ll put it on my list.

    Comment by sprite — September 13, 2006 @ 11:19 pm

  68. Ciao petite

    I will be in Paris soon, who knows maybe I will see you sitting in a Cafe Parisienne :-))

    good luck for tomorrow !


    Comment by Eric — September 14, 2006 @ 3:08 am

  69. I know what you mean. I started Cinema Sunday at the beginning of this year and I venture down to Frankfurt for a double feature once a month when the weather is crappy.

    Comment by J — September 14, 2006 @ 9:52 pm

  70. I shall refrain from telling that tired old chestnut about the well brought up young lady and the old reprobate. Oh well, since you insist – it ends with the line:
    ‘We know what you are, we’re just just discussing the price!’
    It’s a lawyer’s joke, probably.

    Golden syrup, golden memories, golden silence…

    Unusual fact: one gram of gold can be beaten into a sheet a metre square. Like silence, a little goes a long way….

    Kiss kiss.

    Comment by Andrew — September 14, 2006 @ 10:14 pm

  71. I just turned 30 last week and felt so sad that I currently do not have a baby (or a boyfriend). However, after reading your posting I realized how lucky I am to have free time in my life to do things I love like reading books in the sunshine for hours on end and going to the cinema. Hopefully I will attain the relationship and children at some point but I need to appreciate the lovely freedom right now in my life that being childless entails.

    Thanks for cheering me up! :)

    Comment by Megan — September 16, 2006 @ 9:06 pm

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