Commemorating Paris
It's been a week since I flew back from London. My body is still in London/Paris timezone. As a result, my biorhythm is completely out of whack - waking up in the middle of the night, famished and craving for food.
My bedroom looks completely alien whenever I wake up at night to toss and turn, I keep thinking I'm sleeping on my hotel bed in my Paris. And when I do wake up, I keep expecting to see this outside. ---> View from my hotel room in Montmartre, Paris.
However, Mr. J loves my temporary nocturnal routine as that translates to food and company while watching the World Cup match. We'd head out to the mamak before the match to take-away roti canai, tandoori & naan, iced Milo (for me) and teh tarik (for him).
The only reason I watch the match is because it's utterly boring. Really, watching a group of determined men dashing madly after a ball is the only thing that lulls me back to sleep.
Yesterday morning, while watching the France-Spain match, he lightly traced a sort of alphabet 'A' on my right shoulder.
'Hey, why don't you get a mini Eiffel Tower tatt? With a little heart by the side.'
'What?! You're joking, right?' spluttering on my dhal & thosai.
'I don't know, something to remember your trip by. Since you love Paris so much and the french simply adore you. Hmmm, why not?' nuzzling my right shoulder.
'Ssh... concentrate on the match. Look, goal! Goal!' I whooped excitedly while I, myself don't understand a single football move.
Yeah, it's his little trick, taking advantage of my post-holiday euphoric mood to pursuade me to get a tattoo. Just because he has one on his right upper arm, that doesn't mean I should go get one.
I'm too fickled- my taste evolves every moment. What if suddenly I don't like the tatt on my shoulder? Then, what? Go spend a thousand ringgit laser-erasing it off? Er, thanks but no thanks.
My bedroom looks completely alien whenever I wake up at night to toss and turn, I keep thinking I'm sleeping on my hotel bed in my Paris. And when I do wake up, I keep expecting to see this outside. ---> View from my hotel room in Montmartre, Paris.However, Mr. J loves my temporary nocturnal routine as that translates to food and company while watching the World Cup match. We'd head out to the mamak before the match to take-away roti canai, tandoori & naan, iced Milo (for me) and teh tarik (for him).
The only reason I watch the match is because it's utterly boring. Really, watching a group of determined men dashing madly after a ball is the only thing that lulls me back to sleep.
Yesterday morning, while watching the France-Spain match, he lightly traced a sort of alphabet 'A' on my right shoulder.
'Hey, why don't you get a mini Eiffel Tower tatt? With a little heart by the side.'
'What?! You're joking, right?' spluttering on my dhal & thosai.
'I don't know, something to remember your trip by. Since you love Paris so much and the french simply adore you. Hmmm, why not?' nuzzling my right shoulder.
'Ssh... concentrate on the match. Look, goal! Goal!' I whooped excitedly while I, myself don't understand a single football move.
Yeah, it's his little trick, taking advantage of my post-holiday euphoric mood to pursuade me to get a tattoo. Just because he has one on his right upper arm, that doesn't mean I should go get one.
I'm too fickled- my taste evolves every moment. What if suddenly I don't like the tatt on my shoulder? Then, what? Go spend a thousand ringgit laser-erasing it off? Er, thanks but no thanks.
A tattoo is definitely out of the question. But I've got heaps of memories etched in my mind and I'm in the midst of putting together a travel scrap-book.
Now, that's MY way of commemorating a fabulous trip.
posted by Cupcake Queen at 2:53 PM
3 Comments:
Welcome back! Oooh...I love Montmarde! Did you get lots of painting?
I got my portrait done at Tertre Square- an interesting experience. People oohed and ahhed over while the artist drew me. :)
Oh, any chance we get to see it?? Welcome back too!
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