It contains just the tiniest hint of chili pepper...to awaken the passions.
February 22nd 2009, on a Sunday morning.
What could be absolutely better than sitting outside of a Parisian cafe, drinking the most delicious hot chocolate, or french vanilla right now? Let's explain this scenery. You're sitting in an old chair, with an adorable matching table. It's almost hard not to stop staring at the scenery that is in front of you. The sky is grey as ever, with non stop raining ahead of you. The streets are busy with cars and those french women with their Gucci and Louis Vuitton shopping bags roaming the streets with their oh so colorful umbrellas. But this is Paris. There's a slight volume to the music in the cafe, it's hard to recognize, until the classical voice of Edith Piaf appears. She's singing La Vie En Rose. Oh I would do anything to go back in time to see her sing, sometimes I even think that I was born in the wrong century. I would wish to be born in the century of when classical music was still appreciated, when women could go out wearing hats as big as their heads with feathers of all colours and pastel coloured suits to show just enough skin and reveal the true beauty of women, curves, when men could just spend a sunday morning smoking their pipe in a cafe, when you could just see Ernest Hemingway sitting in a cafe, discussing poetry with Audrey Hepburn. Well, I guess there's nothing I can really do about it. Let's continue on with the rainy scenery. As you start thinking that Piaf completes this cozy cafe scenery, the waitress comes with your chocolate muffin and french vanilla. What's better than chocolate and vanilla?
I would do anything to experience this. Yet i'm stuck here, stuck in this century of men jumping up and down with their golden chains around their neck, and their pants about to fall to the ground, where women would only wear so much to seem desperate. Yet I found a cure, just about enough to make me just a teeny weeny bit experience a part of this scenery, the taste of that french vanilla on a sunday morning like today.
-S
What could be absolutely better than sitting outside of a Parisian cafe, drinking the most delicious hot chocolate, or french vanilla right now? Let's explain this scenery. You're sitting in an old chair, with an adorable matching table. It's almost hard not to stop staring at the scenery that is in front of you. The sky is grey as ever, with non stop raining ahead of you. The streets are busy with cars and those french women with their Gucci and Louis Vuitton shopping bags roaming the streets with their oh so colorful umbrellas. But this is Paris. There's a slight volume to the music in the cafe, it's hard to recognize, until the classical voice of Edith Piaf appears. She's singing La Vie En Rose. Oh I would do anything to go back in time to see her sing, sometimes I even think that I was born in the wrong century. I would wish to be born in the century of when classical music was still appreciated, when women could go out wearing hats as big as their heads with feathers of all colours and pastel coloured suits to show just enough skin and reveal the true beauty of women, curves, when men could just spend a sunday morning smoking their pipe in a cafe, when you could just see Ernest Hemingway sitting in a cafe, discussing poetry with Audrey Hepburn. Well, I guess there's nothing I can really do about it. Let's continue on with the rainy scenery. As you start thinking that Piaf completes this cozy cafe scenery, the waitress comes with your chocolate muffin and french vanilla. What's better than chocolate and vanilla?
I would do anything to experience this. Yet i'm stuck here, stuck in this century of men jumping up and down with their golden chains around their neck, and their pants about to fall to the ground, where women would only wear so much to seem desperate. Yet I found a cure, just about enough to make me just a teeny weeny bit experience a part of this scenery, the taste of that french vanilla on a sunday morning like today.
-S
