a pause at Versailles

I wrote this entry back when I was in Paris. [Yes, sometimes even I get to be frivolous.]
Because to tell you the truth, I was walking in Versailles, and the last thing on my mind was to find a seat to start writing diary [yes, diary] entries. But I was so tired, and I had no book to read while I sat, so this is what came out instead.

Thursday, September 29, 2011, Chateau de Versailles, Paris.

"And so it all comes to an abrupt [but not unexpected] end. I sit in the gardens of Versailles [okay, I already told you that before], in the shade of some large shrubs, pretending to be some inspired/aspiring artist. The truth is, my feet hurt so much from walking, for I have just come out of the chateau, after a slow tour imposed to me by my fellow Versailles-enthusiasts [aka tourists]. I still have a long way until the Grand Trianon. I sit on a really white, really cold marble bench that feels extremely good. And I rest.
My ballerinas, once black, are now covered with a thin layer of khaki dust. People all around-um, tourists-take pictures of everything. Don't underestimate the meaning of the word "everything". They are now, right under my judgmental eyes, taking pictures of everything. Every intricate detail of every miniature sculpture is an important element to keep in their repertoire of soon-to-be useless photographs. So is every leaf of every tree in the garden. But a tourist is easily tempted. Even I took a few shots here and there. At least I am not carrying a video camera.  Because those who want to take absolutely everything on film, well, will never watch those recordings ever again in their life.
Oh, to be a tourist; life is a camera and all smiles.
I wonder what they all think, looking at me right now. Oh Look! there's a writer, or a fine arts student sketching this fountain here. Mmm wonder if she's any good.
Rest assured, imagined stranger, I am only writing girly diaries, I would say. For I wouldn't be caught dead sketching without reference, a table, pencils, erasers and lots and lots of papers.
Anyhow, my vacation has come to an end [it's well over and done by the time I'm typing this up]. I should like to start walking to see an exhibition on 16th and 17th century-inspired gowns and dresses, done by designers late in the 20th century. A poor attempt to show my real interest in fashion, knowing that my taste in clothes is dull, and my skills in fashion design nowhere near existent."

[diaries of the wannabe parisienne end here.]

From Beirut, I tell you that the exhibition was beautiful, and that as I walked back outside, I let myself get lost in the gardens. Of course, I didn't really get lost, but I did think, boy, did the royal kids have fun playing hide and seek out here back in the day!

The pathway ornate with the trees in the picture is one I encountered on my way back. As for the ballerinas, well, I guess the picture speaks their misery [but doesn't mention the extra-wet wipe-care I took of them as I waited for the bus. Ahem.]

Tralalala from Paris! [and from my bed here in Beirut.]

ps: what would I do without brackets?


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