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[12 Jun 2009|06:51pm] |
Threading examples:
1. here.(I'm the Claire Danes pb.)
2.here (I'm the Tina Fey pb)
3. here (I'm the Lena Headey pb)
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| Journal entry (3rd person POV) |
[25 Mar 2008|12:18am] |
Nora exited the plane. Paris she couldn’t believe she was finally here. Paris the city of her dreams, surely she’d be able to write here. It was known for inspiring songs after all.
Humming Champs Elysées she went to get her luggage. Of course it was the last bag to arrive. After thirty minutes of waiting for your bag everyone would have a hard time keeping their good mood up and Nora wasn’t an exception. As she lifted took her bag she’d forgotten all about “the city of her dreams”. Instead she thought about the heaviness of her bags. And why the hell couldn’t the French put up proper signs so you could find a cab?!
Nora was fuming when she got into the cab.
“Oú est-ce que vous voulez aller madame?” The drivers question interrupted her inner ranting.
“I don’t speak fucking French” she nearly screamed. The driver looked slightly scared as he changed his question to English: “Where do you want to go miss?” Nora realised how she’d acted and asked for forgiveness speaking about her jetlag and how she’d had to wait for her bags. The driver started looking less scared and after a while he dared interrupt her. “No problem but where do you want to go, madame?” Nora knew she had the note with the address somewhere and started looking through her bag. It wasn’t there. She had to ask the driver to pullover so she could get her backpack.
It took a while before the driver could stop (it’s not so easy to do on a highway) and Nora got more and more worried as the minutes passed by. When the car finally stopped she was out of her seat in less than a second. She ripped up her bag was relieved when she saw the little note used as a bookmark in the book she was reading. She handed the note to the driver who looked at it briefly and took of.
On the way to the hotel Nora could finally give in to her jetlag and fall asleep. She dreamt about the Eiffel tower and the Louvre, about writing music and about taking long walks along the Seine. She was only woken by someone shaking her saying something in French. Oh, she was at the hotel already. The portiere helped her with her bags and carried them to her room as she checked in and after she got her key she went to her room laid down on the bed and slept. The Seine would have to wait till tomorrow.
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| Journal entry (1st person POV) |
[25 Mar 2008|12:18am] |
1st POV:
So I'm back from Paris. It really feels good to be home even though Paris was fun.
I really did get inspired and I now have all the material I need for an album. I can't wait to start recording!
Apart from writing music I did all the typical tourist stuff:
I visited the Eiffel tower (You should have seen the fireworks on the 14th), I walked on the Champs Elysées, I spent a whole day on the Louvre (I missed Mona Lisa though, too much tourists) and another day at musée D'Orsay. I visited Centre Pompidou. I had my portrait painted by some street artist in Montmartre where I also visited Sacre Cuoer (please don’t kill me if it's spelled wrong, French is really hard). I even went to Disneyland Paris, with my sunglasses on of course. Some people recognised me in spite of the power of the dark black glass, and I posed for more than a few pictures with little girls in Elizabeth Swann miniature dresses (they were sooo cute!).
The weather was horrible the first two weeks and I was freezing all the time. After those weeks it was better and definitely warmer (sometimes almost too hot). That was good because I’d only brought really summery clothes and I had almost nothing to wear when it was cold. I even had to go shopping for a sweater so I wouldn’t freeze to death. I really hate shopping and it was worse in France where I didn’t know the language.
Anyway Now I'm back. And I want to know everything that's happened while I was gone.
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