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Art of Seduction P II

ichas8440 — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 09:50:17 +0000

Seduce, (verb) action word. Those who understand this and don’t ascribe to local chatter resulting in wrapping oneself up in semantics, know the word to mean. “I am one but for me I only see you which makes the duo.” Fact of The Art Of Seduction!

Combine this knowledge with that of the powerful potential in strength in numbers, or… In this case, the combination of taking two to make the three as in, “you & me make the we”. And as in influencing those who you wish to be, such as “He or She”… Side by side with thee. As in, The 48 Laws of Power.

Understanding this as you soar like an eagle, rising to heights in which you see how it actually should be. Allowing you to recognize that to seduce as in seduction isn’t about leading anyone astray. Seduce as in seduction is to assist another in seeing the beauty of enjoying the tease, knowing that eventually you will be pleased. Yes, the prelude to living a life together. Sharing and caring as the duo traverse the scene, smilin’ & profilin’ despite the differences that are all to quickly identified by…

Right, those haters who have but one interest which is to spread their misery! Exactly, I said it… Misery which leads to madness, adding you to their nasty but forever growin’ ranks of wasted people. Hey, don’t act surprised as if this is a new revelation to you. You knew that misery loves company.

Besides, why do you think that some FOLK seem to be having all the fun? Could it be that after watching the many who usually end up without any which are prime examples of; “how not to be”.

Oh well, if we were in France they would say such is life. But a las, I am of the Western society so the correct phrase is, “chalk it up to the game”.

There goes that inflammatory word again, “Game“. I’ve encountered way too many who have written me to say that life is not a game and implore me to correct myself. Well first I’m not into publicly self-checking myself! Secondly, as I’ve said many times before, continue getting at me like that while I keep adding to my score by stating that the word is nothing more than a metaphor. Feel me!

Psssss; Vibe off the content above while expanding your mind, allowing the simplicity of what is to filter into your consciousness. Then, stand tall above them all, as you marvel with the exhilaration of the seduction of self. Now… Step out and share it with somebody else.

Paris - strolling the streets

Stampfli & Turci — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 15:29:43 +0000

Photo submitted by © Diane Peterson

[click on photo to enlarge]

Personal note by Diane Peterson

Paris ….strolling the streets….2004

Follow Diane Peterson’s on Twitter – @filmoyster
Visit Diane Peterson’s website – exposure2lite.o.1x.com

Paris - Sacré coeur

Stampfli & Turci — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 14:31:38 +0000

Photo submitted by © Carla Boulton

[click on photo to enlarge]

Personal note by Carla Boulton

I love this spot in Paris. It’s great to think about what all those people in windows across the city are doing, if you look around you can see everyone else being curious in the same way.

Follow Ivan on Twitter – @naughtymutt
Follow Carla’s blog on Posterous – carlaboulton.posterous.com

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 22:57:30 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

I cannot forgive Descartes. In all his philosophy he would have been quite willing to dispense with God. But he had to make Him give a fillip to set the world in motion; beyond this, he has no further need of God.

– Pensees # 77

(19 June 1623, at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Invented a computing machine (age 18), helped invent calculus of probabilities, invented Pascal’s Triangle

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 22:16:06 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

All great amusements are dangerous to the Christian life; but among all those which the world has invented there is none more to be feared than the theatre. – Pensees # 11

(19 June 1623, at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Invented a computing machine (age 18), helped invent calculus of probabilities, invented Pascal’s Triangle

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

To Breastfeed Or Not To Breastfeed

newyorkinparis — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:40:11 +0000

That is the question. Or rather, that is the question in France.

I breastfeed. Never imagined that I wouldn’t. Especially not after seeing my sister nurse her four babies. It just seemed like the easiest, most natural way to feed your child.

But then I got pregnant. In Paris.

And everyone and their mother, husband, sister, boyfriend, cousin asked me if I was going to breastfeed or allaiter. Mais oui, I’d answer. And this is where everyone’s opinions started making them an asshole —or did I just mix up my metaphors there? I heard about how difficult it was to breastfeed. It was painful. It wasn’t easy. Terribly inconvenient. Unnecessary—perhaps even unhealthy (what?!)—after a few months. So on and so forth.

I was shocked because I’d never even known there was some sort of controversy about it. Then again, I’d never been pregnant before and I’d lived in the States, where most everyone seems to agree that breastfeeding is best for the first year.

Truth be told, I found breastfeeding to be fairly easy. My baby latched on soon after birth. I had some issues in the beginning with thrush and clogged ducts (TMI and a big huh? for everyone who’s never breastfed, I know.) But that cleared up and there’s really nothing simpler than feeding and comforting my baby by putting a boob in her mouth. Not to mention, as this NYTimes article did, breastfeeding helped me lose nearly all the pregnancy weight (about 40 lbs.) in the first month—without dieting or exercise. Two months later, I’ve got about 4 lbs. left to lose and figure at least 2 lbs. of that are my now-big breasts. Newfound cleavage is another perk!

There are of course some downsides. Leaking milk is the one that annoys me the most. Followed by not being able to leave the baby for extended periods just yet because, yep, I’m her food source and nope, I haven’t been able to pump a gallon of milk yet. I’ve gone as long as four and a half hours away, but she’s so small, I don’t really like leaving her for long, anyway.

Now that it’s obvious I’ve chosen to allaiter, I keep hearing from Frenchies that I only need to do it for 3 months. Or that nursing a baby of a year is abnormal and uncivilized. And that to be thin again, you have to stop breastfeeding. My friend T. had a French doctor tell her, “Only Africans breastfeed for a year,” after she mentioned her intentions to nurse her daughter that long. I mean, seriously?! This is what doctors here believe? And they’re racist, to boot?

A friend’s mother told me, with heavy sarcasm in her voice, “Oh, that woman (name not mentioned to protect the innocent and guilty) is a really good mother because she’s nursing her baby for a year. You know, that’s really unusual (read: weird) here in France.”

Like many things French, this is something I don’t understand or care to. And clearly, vice versa. I guess to that, I can only say, “Vive la difference!” and considering my baby girl is off the charts when it comes to her height and weight, “Vive la breastfeeding!”

P.S. I promised myself this wouldn’t become a baby/mommy blog—and it won’t! But I did have to point out this cultural difference between the American and French way of thinking. Promise no more baby stuff for at least a few posts!

French spies saw Hitler danger in 1924, document shows

intelNews — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 10:39:43 +0000

Hitler in 1924 By JOSEPH FITSANAKIS | intelNews.org | At the same time when British intelligence was

Wonder of the world

nakulshaji — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 03:43:07 +0000

On a broad classification basis, we are well aware of the fact that there are seven wonders in this world (seven of-course having biblical implications). However, when it comes to these seven wonders, how many of us can name them correctly? I sure cannot! It is not because I cannot remember seven of them. Its because there really isn’t just seven of them.

There are seven wonders for Ancient world, seven for Medieval and seven for modern world. Then comes the seven natural wonders, and so on. For example, seven wonders of the world that I am accustomed to are the Pyramids of Egypt, Taj Mahal in India, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Great Wall of China, Colosseum in Rome, Leaning tower of Pisa and the Eiffel tower. This is clearly not correct, since that list spans all of three ’spasms’ of civilizations. Where would the Colossus of Rhodes, Statue of Zeus at Olympia, Mayan ruins, etc add in?

Strangely enough, the case of Eiffel tower is debatable. Wikipedia ignores it, while the first search in google returns a valid answer. So, to avoid any more confusion, I am stopping the reference to any seven wonders of the world, and going to just talk about the Eiffel tower!

A truly magnificent structure, built in the late 1800’s still stands magnificently towering over Paris, and viewable from every angle. There is no missing it. We were fortunate to live 3 blocks away from the tower with a beautiful view from our balcony! What’s amazing about this structure is not just it’s sheer height (there are more than 10 buildings in the world that are taller than the Eiffel tower), but its beautiful civil engineering in a time when computers were not even invented.

The building stands on four arcs, which is a marvelous piece of engineering design and accommodates elevators that go up and down on a angle! Here are some images of the tower. More coming up later!

Sarah — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 09:22:40 +0000

Alias

dilarairmak — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 05:15:02 +0000

This design creates my interest due to its style and color. This identity belongs to Seb De Poortere in Paris. I reallly like curvilinear style in this design and its continuity. Also the trick of a and s which is pink attracts me.

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 22:39:42 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

The feeble-minded are people who know the truth but only affirm it so far as consistent with their own interest. But apart from that they renounce it. – Pensees # 583

(19 June 1623, at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

Julie y Julia!

gusd4b4rr — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 01:32:39 +0000

¿De qué trata?: Basada en dos historias reales, la última película de Nora Ephron (Sleepless in Seattle 1993, You’ve Got Mail 1998) Julie & Julia 2009 narra la historia de Julie Powell (Amy Adams), una joven que siente que está desperdiciando su vida y que decide dedicar un año a preparar todas las recetas de “Dominando el Arte de la Cocina Francesa” (Mastering the art of french cooking), clásico libro de cocina de la célebre cocinera Julia Child (Meryl Streep) Así, Julie decide aprender a cocinar a su manera con la legendaria cocinera Julia. Durante el año que supone su experiencia como alumna de Child, escribe cada día sus experiencias en un blog que ganará múltiples adeptos.

Si bien Nora Ephron no es santo de la devoción de casi nadie, puesto que a pesar de alguna película interesante no ha dejado una gran marca en el séptimo arte, no se puede objetar que el atractivo reparto y ese toque de dulce comedia que inspira la película es una poderosa razón para acercarse a ver Julie & Julia. Lo mejor de la película son sin duda sus actrices: Meryl Streep y Amy Adams vuelven a juntarse tras la fuerza que ambas demostraron en ‘La Duda’, haciendo que Julie & Julia tenga dos de las mejores interpretaciones femeninas del año, dándole un punto a favor para no ser otra comedia del montón. En cuanto a la parte cinéfila se refiere, subrayar el realismo en cuanto a localizaciones y temporalidad se refiere.

La película además posee una narración curiosa, pues cuenta dos historias paralelas y entremezcladas muy parecidas, las de Julie y Julia. Pero no en el mismo tiempo, pues mientras una trascurre en 1949, la otra sucede en el 2002. Más que una comedia romántica, Julie & Julia es un manual sobre la superación personal y el alcance de metas imprescindibles para nuestra satisfacción. En este sentido, se presenta la historia de Julia (Streep), que en los años 50 y siendo extranjera allá donde iba (países o aprendizajes: mujer americana en Europa), superaba las trabas de los prejuicios con tal de exprimir hasta la última gota de su creatividad y de su vitalidad, lastrada además por su incapacidad de tener hijos a los que alimentar. Y en el Nueva York, post 11 – S, Julie (Adams), una treintañera más, perdida en la insatisfacción de una generación destinada a lo superficial, a lo práctico, a lo acomodaticio, que encuentra en el legado de Julia y en su vivaz espíritu, la brújula para reorientar sus pasiones, sus ambiciones y su ansia de vida.

Y aunque hacia la mitad del metraje este se vuelve excesivamente repetitivo y no aprovecha historias ya presentes, Ephron tiene tal pulso emotivo en lo dramático y en lo cómico durante la primera mitad, que todo se perdona, más contando con dos actrices tan extraordinarias como Adams y Streep, que asumen el timing cómico y la sensibilidad de la historia. Tal vez Un poco menos de duración no hubiera estado mal, ya que al película se llega a sentir un tanto cansada, desluciendo grados de ese sabor que la sustenta.

Al grano: Lo mejor es ver esta película con el estómago vacío porque al salir de ella, estarás deseando degustar una buena comida o cena. Y para terminar una pequeña frase repetida por Julia Child: ¡Bon appetit!

* * * 1/2 de 5

Faux Cassoulet

Janell — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 04:09:30 +0000

There’s a casual coziness about my house and garden that bear witness to my love of the Frenc

That's what she ate.

menumishaps — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 20:06:49 +0000

“Roasted cock with fried papatoes.”
-Paris, France

From Matt T.

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:57:50 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

Men often take their imagination for their heart; and they believe they are converted as soon as they think of being converted.

– Pensees # 275

(19 June 1623, at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

Surprise Sales

newyorkinparis — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 19:47:50 +0000

I never know when it’s sale season in France. It’s something like January and June—and only at those times because sales are government-sanctioned here, apparently.

So imagine my surprise when I rolled the Dae-by into BHV (a department store near my house) and saw 40% off signs everywhere. Turns out this is the “sale before the sales” and they’re happening all over Paris for a week! Why didn’t I get the memo?!

Probably b/c I’m a new mom who doesn’t listen to the radio or watch French TV, especially now that I’ve got an Apple TV. (And that’s worth its own post; I’m hooked on Glee* now.)

Anyway, I’m almost back to pre-pregnancy weight, except for the boobs, so I felt like I could do some worthwhile shopping. Which I did. And I got 40% off everything!** Plus an added 12% off for the detax. Wheeeee!!

And Dae already seems to have a shopping gene. She smiled and laughed the whole time I was trying on stuff during the sale madness. That’s my girl.

* I actually auditioned for a role in “South Pacific” at Lincoln Center in front of the dude who plays the glee club teacher (and about 8 other men). Turns out he was the male lead of that Broadway production. Clearly, I didn’t get the part, which was that of a 17-year-old virgin—a stretch by any imagination. And what the hell was I doing at Lincoln Center auditioning for a Broadway show, anyway?! It was a strange confluence of events and horribly embarrassing, as auditions tend to be, but I seem to have a vague memory of him being nice and telling me I was “excellent.” So I like watching him play the nice guy on TV, too.

** Sales in France are no joke. It’s not like the States where stuff is “on sale” constantly and it’s not really a sale. Hence, the major madness when sale season arrives.

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 18:35:54 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

…True fear comes from faith; false fear comes from doubt…– Pensees # 262

(19 June 1623, at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

HQ Photos of Rob at Paris' New Moon Photo Call

justsaymmmkay — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 16:01:47 +0000

Helloooo, there!

Source.

The Eiffel Tower

Emma — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 22:49:40 +0000

continued from France…

The day after we arrived, we came to the Eiffel Tower. It was HUGE and daunting. Street vendors were drawn to the area with all the tourists, and took to pestering us. It felt like we waited a lifetime in that ticket line. It wasn’t too bad, though. We chatted with a honeymooning Austrailin couple.

We finally got in the elevator, and went up… and up… and up. We filtered out of the small elevator and took in the view. Paris was a pretty city. All the buildings blended together, until your eyes would come across a church, with a gold top. In the back, you could see Mont mart, the only hill in Paris. It felt like the whole city was laid out before me… and technically, it was.

Paris France

glbran — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 01:20:24 +0000

Photos taken during our trip to Paris France.

SAINT BERTILLA: First Abbess of Chelles monastery, restored with Queen Saint Bathildis, near Paris: 'GREAT NUMBERS flocked to the abbey during Bertilla's half century of rule,' circa 700

goyodelarosa — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:03:28 +0000

A NUN OF JOUARE

St. Bertilla, nun of Jouare, and then first abbess of Chelles, near Paris, when that monastery was restored by queen St. Bathildis.

Great numbers flocked to the abbey during Bertilla’s rule, including many Anglo-Saxon girls and two former queens.

LIVES OF THE SAINTS

Father Augustine Kalberer, OSB

November 5: St. Bertilla of Jouare

Page 403

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:34:36 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

Grace is indeed needed to turn a man into a saint; and he who doubts it does not know what a saint, or a man is. – Pensees # 508

(19 June 1623 at Clermont – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

Pascal, Blaise

separateholy — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 21:14:36 +0000

Pascal, Blaise

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. – Pensees # 8950

(19 June 1623 at Clermont, France – 19 August 1662, Paris, France)

Converted to Christ, 23 November 1654

Mom's The Word

newyorkinparis — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:20:51 +0000

Like most daughters, my relationship with my mom has had its ups and downs with the usual refrain of “Please don’t let me turn into my mother!” Complicating matters is the fact that culturally we’re pretty different: I’m American; she’s Korean, and (shamefully) I don’t speak Korean well (read: hardly at all). She speaks Korean to me; I answer in English. Oh, and my parents live in Seoul so I see them at most once a year.

These are not the ingredients that make for a close mother-daughter relationship.

Now the birth of my own daughter meant that my mom was coming to help me out, which I dreaded. I witnessed how stressful these grandma visits were for my sister when she gave birth (four times!) I wanted to avoid that at all costs and quite frankly, I thought her visit would be more aggravating than helpful. But Dman insisted that she come and see her granddaughter and since he was leaving for three weeks, it was the perfect opportunity to get some needed help with my newborn.

Mom arrived and I tried to be positive. But as the week wore on, she wore on my nerves. Everything annoyed me. She couldn’t figure out how our lighting system works. She kept insisting the baby and I were cold and should cover up. She seemed afraid to go outside and see Paris. Most annoying of all, she left wadded-up, wet paper towels all over the kitchen so she could re-use them instead of chucking them out. (What was annoying was that I would do that, too, and Dman pointed it out to me once, saying, “What is up with these used paper towels? Just throw them out!” All I kept hearing was, “You’re turning into your mother!”)

Anyway, after the first week, we had a huge fight about just about everything and I was ready to send the woman packing on an earlier flight back to Seoul.

Once again, my mom didn’t get it, I thought. She wasn’t the mom I’d wanted her to be since I was a teenager. Back then, I thought my best friend Lisa’s mom was the coolest. She could talk to us about boys and let us go out clubbing on South Street. She also didn’t freak if we drank (alcohol, duh) and let me sleepover so that I could extend my ridiculous 10pm curfew. In high school, that is the epitome of cool. When I married Dman, I also got a formidable mother-in-law who’s a movie director, travels the world, speaks three languages and was a cougar before the term (or Demi and Ashton) ever existed. For an independent New Yorker like me, that was again the epitome of cool.

My mom? Not so cool. Her career as a piano teacher was intermittent. She’s been married, not always happily, to my father for almost 40 years. She’s traveled a little bit, but isn’t the kind of free-spirited adventurer that I admire. She can be awkwardly timid around non-Koreans, which frustrates me because she can speak English—but always preferred us kids speaking for her when she lived in the States. She’s modest in how she spends money and wears clothes. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard her utter a curse word in my life. Basically, she couldn’t be more different from me and I was highly, highly critical of that.

Right after our fight, we went for a walk around the Marais with my sister (who was also visiting) acting as a buffer. At one point, my mom leaned over the baby carriage to coo at my daughter and suddenly, all of my hard, resentful feelings disappeared. Her open love for my baby made me realize how much she loves me and in that instant, I saw my mom for everything she was instead of everything she wasn’t. She’s kind and caring; thoughtful and resourceful; sweet and generous. And a fantastic cook, on top of it all.

Once I stopped acting like an adolescent whining about wanting a “cool mom,” I got my cool mom. I just had to give her a chance to show me or, more likely, I needed to grow up a little lot.

Mom cooked and cleaned for me everyday and took care of the baby so I could take care of myself for a change. She started telling me stories about her life in Korea when she was a young piano teacher (and mother) traveling between Pusan and Seoul to work when my father got laid off from his job. (I gathered that he was the stay-at-home dad, while she brought home the bacon.) She wound up giving a Korean cooking lesson to my chef sister-in-law and me—as well as making a Korean feast for my impressed in-laws. She even went out in Paris alone, doing the shopping because it was raining and she didn’t want me and the baby to go outside in the wet.

As for those wadded-up paper towels? The woman is totally green. She doesn’t waste a single thing. You should see how she peels and cuts up a mango—not a single piece of pulp left on the seed. Pretty amazing. What I used to see as parsimonious is actually pretty damn ecological. And yes, really cool.

So what’s my cool mom doing now? Heading to Phuket with her girlfriends for four days of beach and massage.

Mom, can I be more like you now?

P.S. I’ll be sharing her easy kimchi recipe in a post to come. It’s taken me moving to Paris and having a baby to finally learn the recipe!

completely spoiled by berthillon: no other ice cream will do

noregretscoyote — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 16:41:33 +0000

Even at first glance you can tell. The golf ball-sized portions give it away: we aren’t in America anymore and Cold Stone Creamery this is not. No, to find such bliss, you must travel to Paris’ Île Saint Louis, one of the oldest (and most well preserved) sections of the city, a small island disrupting the iconic River Seine. This is the home of the ever-famous Berthillon ice cream. It only took me my fourth trip to Paris to discover this sought-after treat written about in just about every guidebook and travel blog. But believe me, it’s not hard to find. The island is only the length of a few city blocks and even if you’re not good with a map, the lines of tourists and Parisians alike will be an obvious indicator that you’ve found it.

The first time I went I was completely disappointed to see that the actual shop was closed (check ahead of time for hours/holidays/etc) but was quickly reassured when I realized the entire island is full of shops selling exactly the same ice cream. After some translation assistance from my sister, we decided on flavors like pistachio, framboise (raspberry), pampelmousse (grapefruit), fleur de sel caramel (salted caramel) and cassis (blackcurrent). Salted caramel is found all over France but rarely in the states, so if you see it, get it. The best way to sample Berthillon is to try a combination of fruity sorbet flavors (made with real fruit and all-natural ingredients) as well as the more sweet, sugary ones.

Take note – flavors change daily according to season and availability. So don’t fret if your favorite flavor isn’t there one day. Trust me, you’ll be back a few times.

31 Rue St-Louis en l’Île, Paris

http://www.berthillon.fr/