irritibility

i'm so fucking irritable these days. i don't know what it is, but i get pissed at the slightest thing. it's like i am permanently pmsing. i am lonely, but i don't want to see anyone. i want to talk to people, but i want to be left alone. example: astrid was eating an apple and i just about lost it. seriously, almost punched a hole through the wall. i think it's just that when i am at home, i do get pissed at people. i get into verbal arguments with family or friends, we yell, we patch it up...it's a release. here i can't yell. i can't stomp up the stairs and say "fuck off"...

of course, getting out on my bike makes me feel better. listening to tunes that are fucking depressing makes me feel better too. sigur ros's ( ), an album i can listen to only when i want to slit my wrists, is high on my list right now. so is radiohead's "amnesiac" which has so many memories attached that i can usually only handle one or two songs before spiraling into a 24 hr. depression.

therapeutic photography has helped too. here are some images of what could be considered a therapy session: my bike, my music, my camera...

Vacation and more bad news from home

This past week commenced the French work schedule for me--work five weeks, get one and a half weeks off. I spent the former part of this vacation in Rennes, the latter part in Paris. Exploring France and reconnecting with places I remember from my past has been informative and stimulating.

Rennes was filled with much silliness: drinking cidre in the Jardins de Thabor, playing ___________ Catch Phrase, and eating various international cuisine.

Paris thus far has consisted of visiting the usual tourist traps with a few sidetrips. Rue de Mouffetards was enjoyable, and I think most will agree that a ten euro pitcher of beer in Paris ain't too shabby. Tomorrow will be the highlight when I get to see the Shins at La Cigale, a venue very close to Montmartre (possibly near la Pigalle?). Other than that I have seen l'Arc de Triomphe, les Champs Elysées, la Défense, Montmartre, Place de la Concorde...the usual haunts.
In other news, my grandma is dying. I got this news via email, as that is the most effective means of communication...but as I am already so far removed from the situation, reading it in an email makes me even more disengaged. She had a stroke this afternoon and tore her aorta. She has been sick all year, and I feel like this is it, as much as that is a negative spirit to have. She is in emergency surgery now. This is her second heart surgery in three months. She is eighty years old.

How does one cope from an ocean away? Even my uncle in Iceland will be able to go to the United States...I cannot afford the ticket, and I also have to stay for work.

Putain de vie...