2010 is going to be the best year ever

Last night I had another confusing dream. Not a bad one or a nightmare, but it was wild. I didn't like it. Tonight, I think I'll go to bed early--I've been up long enough.

This afternoon, someone hit the back corner of my car while it was parked on the side of the road. Now, I know that my horoscope for the year only included three "decent" months and no really good ones, but at this point I'm thinking that next year owes me big time. I can't seem to recall any major karmic disaster I've committed recently. I'm trying to enjoy this phenomenal place, ok? I think I'm being a good sport about it all, and I want this blog to be a positive thing--however, the inspiration and beauty can only flow from a muse, my words aren't as wonderful when they stem from woes.

I know I can't just sit here, waiting, waiting, waiting for the adjustment period to pass, for happy things to start settling in, for the delays in quiet fulfillment to subside. Everything that happens TO me won't always seem like an interruption of this blissful love affair I'm trying to have with the Île-de-France (or the Région Parisienne). Maybe the problem is I don't feel bad enough--that I should feel kicked to the curb instead of just irked and annoyed. Is that why I took that acting class? To start acting sad enough that people take pity on me? ew! Kerouac's journey is taking a mad zooming turn for the better in the book I'm working on--I think I'll just keep reading.

You know what. I've kept most of this week's upsets to myself; that is, I haven't told the family. I'm always so afraid of complaining too much that I don't think I share the right worries or confessions with the right people. That's how I'll be proactive--I will open myself a bit more to the people who've opened their house to me. Without acting. Without expectations. Keeping it in doesn't make me stronger around here. I feel good about this decision. Bonnuit.