Did I ever really write about Versailles during, before or after Versailles? I don’t think I did.
Probably not because when the hell would I have had the time for that … between being too hungover from late Parisian jet lagged induced evenings and having to babysit TC. And dealing with a laptop crash that left me having to use my iphone for all communications.
I still have no idea what button I magically hit that made a ton of my posts all italics, I meant to mention that like two damn months ago but I figured you knew that was me being challenged on an iphone. Typos and half finished thoughts included.
It’s a damn good thing I’m not actually being judged here for writing style and grammar and other fancy things. Let’s be clear: I am not a fancy person. Do not be fooled. I might put a good front on — only because I might wear real, non yoga clothes at times — but at the heart of me is a very simple girl.
I still have a luxury handbag fetish though.
I didn’t hide the fact that I wasn’t particualry excited to go but TC had to pull one of his, I just want to see Versailles one more time before I die. What the hell do you with that kind of comment, anyway? Other than suck it up and go?
My only Versailles memory is of 16 year old me. This is scary for a few reasons. Mainly I only remember hot guys. Like everywhere. Getting in trouble. Constantly — it was all the hot guys that were a huge distraction. Who can stay focused on an educational tour when you have hottie professional athletes from the Netherlands touring the place, too?! And also it was summertime — it was probably past fire code on numbers and hotter than hell. Sister here don’t do heat.
See. The sacrifices we children make for our parents. Plus at least TC doesn’t delay — he’s remarkably light on his feet when it comes to touring shit. We are a perfect combo.
Lately, the beaut of Versailles has been on my mind an awful lot … I credit this mainly to my dream the other night. The one where I broke in to Versailles. Like hardcore, all out robbery. Possibly the most un-me thing I’d ever find even possible to do.
Moi organizing a multi led break in charge on the former capital of France. This is what is so awesome about dreams, because in real life, I can’t even take a free cookie sample without feeling guilty and looking around me to make sure : 1. it’s okay 2. it really is a free sample 3. does someone else want it?
Given that I not only was consciously in control and aware during this dream, while keeping my dream-like composure, I think I’ve been running high off robbery fumes, Versailles style, of course.
Versailles style is something like this ho-hum thing:
I know. I can’t handle the genericness of it either. Really. Can we try to come up with something a tad bit more … important-esque looking?
TC thought I was being serious when I made those comments, which sent me on a long explanation of why I had to try to pretend it was so unimpresive, because look — I’ve got a thing, a huge thing, for green.
Is this not the most gorg green you’ve ever seen? Allow me to assure you — in person it is just that much more divinely gorg and you’ll have to sit your ass down on the parquet floors to be able to take it all in.
I did really sit down on the floors. For starters, it was so damned cramed with Asian tourists who hogged up all the benches in the rooms. Don’t miserad here — I love all Asians, people think I am Asian, so I have some street cred to mention the Asians and holy hell — can we please stop being so politically correct? If someone said all the caucasians {um still don’t get why asian is in this word?!} were sitting on the benches, I’d go with it. It’d be no big deal. So nobigdealherekay.
Sitting down is required to take in all this green. I don’t even want to get started on these chairs — the focal point of my robbery heist. Relieved to know I still maintain good taste in dreams.
The other main robbery dream destination?
Marie Antoinette’s ordinary bed. That’s correct, I took the whole bed. I really wanted the chandelier, too, but there wasn’t time and I got way too caught up in giving orders and yelling at people to hurry their asses up, while I was trying to find Marie’s secret room getaway that she hid out for a few months during The French Revolution till they found her.
Tell me I’m not the only dork out there who gets pumped about secret rooms and passage ways?
It was all so thrilling, in the way only dreams can be. Knowing you’re actually getting away with shit! That involves gold and ornate objects. I was so ballsy in my dream, that I told my team {clearly I was very impt to have a “team”}, we would exit through the main entrance and I wanted the gold plated front above the gates.
That’d be this run-of-the-mill thing:
Why, yes, I think I have just the spot for it. I believe there was more damn gold used at Versailles than in the entire world at the time. Something like that. I mean, like, used to make things, not in actual use. I’ll have to ask TC, he’s the smarty one with all the important info that he somehow actually remembers. Me? I cant even get my gold Versailles facts straight.
I told Brother about my dream, because you know how dreams have this innate ability to stay on you? Okay, well, they stay on me.
It feels like an after-effect. As though the energy is hanging around on me. And trust me, just dream robbing shit is a loooot of energy. Especially to try to comprehend things that are not real … I am still trying to get over the fact that I don’t have those matching green chairs. I really feel like they should be mine. I dreamed claimed them. Doesn’t that count for something?!
Brother had a wonderful perspective on dream robbing Versailles. He said it must be a really good sign, because to rob shit takes a lot of courage and in a place like Versailles … that’s like me walking into the Lion’s Den and being all, what’s going on in this motha and then taking shit down and getting what I want.
Obvs that is me paraphrasing Brother. He didn’t sound nearly as ghetto as me. But that’s the gist and it’s a gist I’m totally digging.
Me breaking out from the fear. This is what I shall take away from Versailles. As well as the green. And the hot guys. I mean, omfg, I am not big on wallpaper, but if I don’t want to just go wallpaper the shit out of my entire upstairs in that green. Ah. Divine visions of green. They haunt me.