Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Adventure, & What It Means To Me
I could sincerely sit, with this song [or others like it] on replay, for hours upon hours. And the band name is Pomplamoose, so it makes my life just that much better.
My last week or two has had the increasing theme of adventure, and French, and the two combined; but alas, I have been sick, and I have not been able to say much [literally]. So, now that I'm feeling better, here it is , I guess. :)
Secret #12365472: I know that people in France don't just fill up their "stereotype" and eat crossaints, smoke, and wander around the streets while listening to this song all day [I don't remember where that seems familiar, but it was kind of brilliant], but I wish they did- or I wish I did [minus the smoking- I'd just stare at the sky]...
Fact #1236765456497: I know that I'm cheesy and a dreamer, but French has been the one thing, the one subject, that I have loved since I was a small child, even though in the beginning I couldn't speak five words of it. I used to not know the words, but sing to the tune of Habenera [a French opera piece, by Bizet]. The only phrase I really knew was excusez-moi, and anything French caught my eye [which sadly at that time was only references in cartoons and French-loaf bread].
France/French, for whatever reason, just gives me a spirit of adventure. I always ask myself why such a love for one thing has come about [figuring it out means some deep investigation on my part// into the things long forgotten but still leave their marks], but that's one mystery I'd only like to make bigger without disrupting.
That's why I am more excited than I have ever been for anything, to be finally going to France, in about 120 days. Four months from now, I'll be seeing and experiencing something that isn't just mine to experience, or any other person who has stayed their entire life on the North American continent [Quebec is not the same, trust me], but millions of other people in one country across the ocean. I don't care how adventure was defined by those people long gone who sat in cold dark classrooms and wrote all the definitions down [dictionarinites?], it's something you feel in your heart, and France makes me feel it more than anything else in the world. :)
I guess I should explain where this crazy dream of an idea came from, as of recent. Have you ever seen the movie Up, about the old man and his adventure with his house? I really think you should- although the beginning is sad, the rest of it is fantastic. Very adorable- especially the music. Well, we watched it en francais, while my French teacher was gone. I could understand less of it than I could other movies [Tim Burton's Corpse Bride I could decipher quite well], but it just had a shine in French that it didn't have in English. The house does fly, but it seemed as though it flew higher, the balloons were brighter [yeah, he floats his house into the sky with balloons- how cool is that?]. His adventure is of life and love, though, which most of us [or at least me] are too young to fully understand.
Maybe it's in the fact that the adventure in this country [The United States] seems long run-out. Almost everywhere has a McDonalds [haha- I'm not kidding], and even in the most remote of areas you still probably have cell phone service or Wifi. It's sad, really- like we're all dressed up with nowhere to go.
Oh, but we had adventure, at one point- more than just about anyone else. Our unsettled frontier called out to people, to pioneer and settle, to make order out of chaos, metaphorically. But now that order has turned back to chaos in another form, in the form of a loss of adventure. The only things that seem to have adventure left in them are the things long gone, like the ruins of cities/buildings, or those places preserved in time.
Maybe the real adventure is just in experiencing something new, something unfamiliar. I'm not sure- I'll tell you in 120+11 days, when I get back [OR while I'm there, but that's a longshot].
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving- what are you thankful for?