Tag Archives: Paris

Lyrics on replay: “Mr. Seratonin Man …”


Mr. Serotonin Man, lend me a gram
You call yourself a friend?

– 1:46, Paris, The 1975

This is the fifteenth track on their 2016 release, I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it, a gods-damned mouthful, yeah? The acoustic is a blessing for my ears. The first song of theirs I’ve ever heard is Girls from their self-titled album.

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Daily Post: Take That, Rosetta!

If you could wake up tomorrow and be fluent in any language you don’t currently speak, which would it be? Why? What’s the first thing you do with your new linguistic skills?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us TONGUE.

February 10th

Tour Eiffel Paris France Stock PhotoThis is a toughie. I eventually want to teach English as a foreign language so I had narrowed down a few but asking me now to pick one, hmmm. I think I’ll tie with French and Italian. I’m breaking the rules here, but everyone love a rebel, right?

If I magically become fluent in French I’d jump at the chance to explore the lesser known art exhibits, where I believe a few jems are tucked away. I love the breathy, lilting sound of French words, the faraway feelings the evoke withing me. It sounds pretty.

Italian Restaurant Signboard Stock Photo

If I woke up speaking Italian like a native: restaurants. Seriously. I hear authentic Italian food are to die for. It’s like a bonus because while I stuff my face I’ll have a lovely view out of what ever window I’d look out of. Like French, Italian to me is very expressive and … seems more alive than most of the languages I can recall ever hearing.

Both languages are romantic and I find their respective countries rich in culture that I’d love to study and experience. Both shoots a thorough dose of fernweh (which is German, by the way) though me.

D.

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The Chocolate Kiss (Amour et Chocolat #2) by Laura Florand

via Goodreads

Rated it: 5 stars    Recommend it to: 18 and above. People who liked The Chocolate Thief, and chocolaty romance.

GR blurb

The Heart of Paris

Welcome to La Maison des Sorcieres. Where the window display is an enchanted forest of sweets, a collection of conical hats delights the eye and the habitues nibble chocolate witches from fanciful mismatched china. While in their tiny blue kitchen, Magalie Chaudron and her two aunts stir wishes into bubbling pots of heavenly chocolat chaud.

But no amount of wishing will rid them of interloper Philippe Lyonnais, who has the gall to open one of his world famous pastry shops right down the street. Philippe’s creations seem to hold a magic of their own, drawing crowds of beautiful women to their little isle amidst the Seine, and tempting even Magalie to venture out of her ivory tower and take a chance, a taste…a kiss.

Parisian princesses, chocolate witches, patissier princes and sweet wishes—an enchanting tale of amour et chocolat.

My take on the cake

How do I even begin? Magalie has trust issues that stemmed from her uprooted childhood of continent hopping due to her parents’ complicated love. Now all grown up, she’s her aunts’ protégé and sole heir to their charmingly delicious shop, La Maison des Sorcieres, stirring her sweet concoctions of dark hot chocolate thrice and a good wish for the sipper, unaware that there was magic in her mindless ritual. There on her little island just outside the bustling city of Paris is where she’s felt truly at home in a long time.

Enter Philippe Lyonnais, le Prince des Pâtissiers (which I’ll hazzard a guess means Prince of Pastries). He’s opening a new branch of his world renowned pastry shop. Magalie goes on the defensive, threatened by his presence on her territory, her future, since his very presence there can put her out of business. I believe that the fear of losing their shop means she’s going to be losing her place, her center, her only anchor. This panic inside of her blinds her to the man who Phillipe is. Okay, he can be arrogant, righteously so in his opinion. He didn’t go there specifically to  snuff them out but he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t be where he wants to be. After all, Paris was his.

They both longed for someone to love, only that she’s reluctant as hell and he’s more open to the prospect of love. Nothing was rushed, nor was it lagging much. But did I mention his arrogance? She calls him on it almost every time but then takes it upon herself to label him as ‘spoiled’, which wasn’t entirely true as he explained to her. Like Magalie, he had the passion for all that was devilment to the palate. They were meant to be, but first they must learn to control the sparks they sent flying, instead of burning each other, they could stir a love so true under that blaze of theirs.

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