Morning edition

I wake up earlier those days. Waiting for a phone call that never comes. Thousands of lost minutes. tic tic tic. At least Bjork is here.

I bought a few CDs in Montreal. Tue-Loup, Autour de Lucie, Miossec, Vincent Delerm. French lyrics in a desert living room.

Totoro: this could be the second name of my cat.

Montreal strikes back

I spent last week in Montreal, once again. Everything in the right place. The reason (aka the excuse): a conference at the Palais des Congres. I had some good time once again, and I had this chance to show the Montreal I like to one of my coworkers. Montreal is the city where I meet some friends in the street, by chance. Montreal is this place where people go cycling, wear gougounes , where girls have this little touch. This city where I feel myself. Including all kinds of souvenirs. I actually liked this part in L"Auberge Espagnole". The hero says that streets are so many white pages where you need to write paragraphs of your life.

When driving home yesterday, there was a huge storm in the Adirondacks.

I arrived home (sick: I got a bad cold because of this $%$^ air conditioned). Another storm was on my answering machine. Fee comete left me another message, saying she wanted to come here, with one of our common friends. I couldn't sleep all night. Headaches...

D'intérêt pour personne

19 Décembre. Je porte un duffle-coat élimé. J'ai dormi deux heures la nuit dernière. Elle aussi. Étirer le temps. Mais pourquoi ? Elle me dit : 'On est toujours tout seul. Toujours.' Je ne veux pas la croire. Je résiste coute que coute. Pourtant, celui qui ne croît pas est celui qui l'est. Je ne me retourne pas avant de rentrer dans l'avion. Dominique A chante dans ma tête.

Des terres brunes j'ai voulu,
J'ai voulu ne garder...
De souvenance aucune.

L'auberge Espagnole

I know. I know. I really refused to watch this movie the first time. Then, the second. And then again. But finally I won't resist my while life and I've watched this French movie tonight, on a quiet muggy Friday evening. And I kinda liked it.
The end seemed like Trainspotting. Gang of friendly roomies as I used to have. Stories of trendy expatriates in search of the meaning of their lives. I already heard this story 1000 times. But the real truth of the real life is:
1) You don't necessarly have sexy lesbian roomies in this situation.
2) You don't necessarly finish writer at the end.
3) Your girlfriend is not always Audrey Tautou.
4) You don't escape from your work even if your colleagues are freak.

Charley 1 - Bebel 0

Bebel Gilberto was supposed to play tonight at the Delacorte theater in the heart of Central Park. But Charley the storm was stronger than the sweet Brazilian gal. While the first artist was singing at around 8:00, a huge rain storm began, while tons and tons of water were falling on the scene. Booooooooo. Bebel will never play tonight under NYC stars, and we won't be able to hear her Bossa Nova. Booooo. Obviously, it's now 11:00, the rain has stopped, and the only songs one can hear come from the crickets... Booooo.

For the pleasure of it. Another profile of PJH.

Brunette 2

Quiet day today. DVDs and housework (other word for cat hair removal+window cleaning, how interesting...)

I've watched a short interview of PJ Harvey . Such a strong character. It's weird because I remember that when the last album was released I had heard about her sensitivity, her sadness, things related to Vincent Gallo.

But, in this interview. This doesn't appear at all. A very strong ego. Not fragile at all. Someone with a clear idea of herself. I find that pretty impressive. Where's my CD ?

Uh Hu Her - PJ Harvey.

Brunette power

With M., we went to see Keren Ann at Joe's Pub, close to the Public Theater in East Village. She sang really better than in her English record "not going anywhere" in this nice cozy bar. We're even ready to go and see her a second time: I had a bad seat, we arrived late, and it takes a certain time before reaching the intimate world of the cutie singer who sings in French and English.