when work really sucks and you have to stay until 6 even though you really dont have to stay until 6...

...stay until 6, leave, turn on some goo goo dolls (old stuff, circa my freshman year of hs), and be surprised at what happens. tonight...what happened? i left. i listened. and i saw the eiffel tower twinkle! i was in a pissy mood all day, as i am an intern, and interns dont always get the most respect (or work, for that matter). i wanted to leave all day. i left for lunch with a girlfriend, and the thought of running off to a wine bar and getting drunk all afternoon sounded so much more appealing. but alas, i returned. ugh. but when i left this evening and saw the twinkling tour eiffel peeking through the buildlings in the 16th, i knew that i was being rewarded for sucking it up and watching the clock all afternoon.

the metro was packed, making for some excellent people watching. one very young girl caught my eye. totally parisian, totally chic, totally dying to be an adult. this girl had to have been 14, maybe 15, max, and the makeup on her face would have been overkill for a cheap 60-year old prostitute. she was darling, from the side at least. when i saw her face-on, i thought, oh dear lord, please learn how to use eyeliner. and please learn the saying, 'less is more.' the one thing she really did know how to do was dress. i bet her mother is some really foxy 45-year old woman who is just utterly chic and thin. ive decided that metro girl smokes a half of a pack of ciggies everyday, that she lives by the bastille, and that she is having sex to keep up with her peers. she entered the metro with a male friend - he is in love with her, but she is in love with an older man, the french equivalent of a senior (he's just a sophomore). she tells him all of her exploits with jean-christophe (her old bf) and his heart breaks a little bit with each tale. one day jean-christophe will exploite claudette (that's her name, ive decided) a bit too much and she will run to (jean-paul) (she loves her jeans, almost as much as her levis...) and cry her eyes out and then look at him and realize that she loves him and he will look back into those teary eyes and say, 'claudette, i love you, let's run off to spain together.' and she will say, 'mais oui,' because claudette would not express her love in anglais. voila, c'est mon histoire pour ce soir.

and non, i am not on any drugs. and i have not had anything to drink.

just a half a can of paprika pringles, some apple juice, and a big dish of sauteed vegetables. my boulangerie is closed on tuesday. i forgot. sad.

a trade-off of cultures

after wandering around the musees de publicite, de la mode, and des arts decoratifs, i felt as though i was going to collapse from hunger. i had only spent about two hours looking at various exhibits, but my tummy was rumbling and i couldn't care less about looking at any more art deco or art nouveau furniture. (the advertising museum part was the real reason i went - but that was just a tiny section of a floor, neat though) i left the louvre area and walked towards st. honore. i found a boulangerie, pick up a sandwich and a tarte, and made my way towards les halles. as i sat on a bench, manger-ing my sandwich, three jeunes sat down on a bench near mine. they were clearly french. but they were carrying two pizza hutt boxes and a liter of soda. now, i am not saying that french can not eat pizza hutt. i just found it entertaining that i was sitting there, eating my crudite and chevre sandwich, with a tarte ready and waiting for dessert, while they were eating pizza. american pizza. i wonder if it was a treat for them, just the way a crepe or big chocolatey pastry would be for me. that's fine, just as long as they don't start thinking that mcdonalds and kfc are gourmet.

so pulpeuse

http://youtube.com/watch?v=wwFkxNZrrgs&feature=related

the naughtiness has finally been revealed.

the 'shear' terror of it all...

getting one's hair cut and colored in a foreign country where you must rely on unspoken language to get what you desire is terrifying. for the last three weeks, i have been telling myself to go get a hair cut, go get it colored, just go. but i have put it off with the hopes that maybe it would magically just color and trim itself. no such luck. so today, i ventured out into the great unknown. i found myself a salon and just dove right in, hoping for the best.

i went to frank provost, a chain of salons in paris. there are probably about 50 of these salons all over the city, and i figured if there were that many, it couldn't be too bad. and i figured that the french are known for being chic, and that hopefully they would turn my cheveux into something of the chic sort.

i walked in. i asked if they had time to cut and color my hair. well, bien sur they did. the girl knew i was foreign, knew i didnt speak her tongue. but she did not bite, she was sweet. i was seated at a station, given a paris vogue, and told that the girl with the curly blonde hair would be over shortly to discuss color. she came over shortly and i tried my best in my broken french to tell her that i wanted to be dark brown, but without red. i always fucking manage to walk out of the salon with a hint of red in my hair. we agreed on a color. then she said the girl with the short brown hair would do something to me. she was the one to slather my scalp with goo. now, this is where it got scary. my roots have grown out about an inch or two, and the girl had said how that area was much lighter than the rest. when girl #2 started painting my scalp, that was all she did...my scalp. i kept thinking, 'fuck, im going to walk out of here with half of my head dark and the other half light and somewhat red.' the whole process of her coloring my hair was quick, but i felt at unease the entire time. another girl in need of haircare was seated next to me, and it was revealed that she, too, did not speak much french...my kindred spirit, more or less. it was comforting to know that someone else was probably internalizing all of their hair-related anxiety at that very same moment. she was only getting a cut. color is where it gets scary. but my color turned out great, a pretty perfect match to what it had been. and for the cut...my stylist was great, i told her that i wanted her bangs and we just made an agreement on my hair in that unspoken language. she knew what i wanted from my poor french and too many hand motions.

in the end, my hair looks good. normal. and i dont have fucking cleopatra bangs like last year - i made sure to tell them 'pas trop court!' ha, and the guy who did that to me last year spoke english. rubbish, i say.

does anyone know what a standard tip is for getting one's hair cut/colored in paris? i left five euros each for my colorist and my cutter, and the girl who checked me out (the cutter) was in shock that i gave her five euros. 'vous etes tres gentile!' was all she kept saying. and then asked if she would be seeing me bientot. peut-etre, ma cherie, peut-etre...

the perfect alternative to cranberry sauce and deerskin lake

as i am in paris for thanksgiving, and as i am without family here, i did what any reasonable young american non-turkey eating femme would do...i went shopping. instead of celebrating 'black friday' tomorrow, i opted to turn today into 'black thursday,' and headed towards hotel de ville de pick up some black goods at h&m. i first made a pitstop near pompidou at my favorite papeterie to get some christmas postcards. then off to h&m and had my fun. it really is a good thing that i do not have an h&m near my apartment, and it is really good that i work during the week. i refuse to go into the grands magasins during the weekend, as they are just swamped and hot and disgusting. but the weekdays...oh yeah, baby! i picked up some great black pieces, very excited to wear them in paris and back at home.

one of my frequent activities in paris is to find free public bathrooms that aren't gross and don't require you to actually do anything - you can just go in and you'll be fine. i found another one today...bhv. bazaar de hotel de ville. now, i had never been to bhv, but have heard that it is 1) like sears, and 2) has absolutely everything you could ever want. 1) semi true. 2) completely true. who knew that one building could hold all of your coffee/tea/waffle making needs, just one floor above all of your scrapbooking, knitting, and stamping supplies. need a couch? head up to the top. need a snack? stop on the 5th level. need a bathroom? find the kids clothing and go around the corner. i can now add this public, non-gross bathroom to my list that includes galeries lafayette and the louvre (there is a bathroom in the main area before you actually buy your ticket - you may have to wait in a long line to get through security, but you wont have to pay to pee). there is a wonderful little well-kept toilette in jardin du luxembourg, albeit you do have to pay 40 euro cents (well worth it, though, as it is very clean and there is a delightful woman who collects your money). yes, there are public toilets on the street in little weird containers, but i think they're dirty and i had a bad experience in one last year. dont ask.

so woohoo, score two for me - h&m finds and a free bathroom. i did search for christmas decor at bhv, but was kinda surprised at the prices - this is the time when paris just needs a target. a big old cheap store with all of your christmas decorating needs. perhaps the parisians just think that shit is tacky and therefore it is tough to find. maybe im just looking too early. i have contemplated cutting out snowflakes, though. maybe ill buy some glitter.

i was getting a bit hungry and knew that i had several more stops and shops to hit up, so i found myself a little boulangerie and bought a gruyere and crudite sandwich, along with a big chocolate macaroon.

can we add macaroons to the list of things that i will die without?

after getting attacked by pigeons near notre dame while eating my sandwich, i strolled about and had some macaroon. three bites was enough, i couldn't eat anymore right away. so rich and decadent and soft and velvety and moist. basically any positive adjective could describe my macaroon. i am not a religious person, but i feel as though this food experience in paris is turning me into a believer of a heaven. when i did, my paradise will be made of pastries, tartes, and macaroons. and there will be beautiful men who go skinny dipping in pools of nutella. no, beaujolais nouveau. they will rub themselves with nutella after i towel the beauj nouveau off of them...

alas, i digress. i need to get my hair colored. i have no idea where to go and am a little bit scared. i opted to go to lafayette, instead, and treat myself to some karen millen. i figured that i treated myself to some karen after two weeks of work, why not after seven? and hey, it's thanksgiving. AND its not even black. i was a bit disappointed with the millen girls - there is this one girl who works there who i just love, but she wasn't in today. maybe she was celebrating thanksgiving.

i was getting tired and my back was starting to hurt from lugging around my purchases. i made my way home, tried on my goods, and then scooted back to the les halles area to make a 4:45 movie. i saw 'once.' but i would see it more than once. it was delightful. i had seen ads in the nytimes for it a few months ago while i was back in madison, and when i saw the posters in the metro, i put it on my to-do list. i would highly recommend it. it's kinda sappy, but definitely a feel-good movie.

i LOVE going to movies by myself. my whole day was really quite lovely. those days that i have dates with myself and my city, oh nothing else compares!

and now it is time for some chocolate and perhaps a little french tele.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, everyone! i would give you the french translation, but as i don't know, i will not.

is the greve over? j'espere. but if no, there are always tartes.

i do not want to speak too soon, but i feel as though the strike is beginning to let up a bit. but shhh, i did not write this and the cheminots will not get pissed off and make the strike unbearable again. the last three days have been a challenge getting to and from work. two and a half hours was a pretty standard amount of time for me to get to work this week, and that's only one way. i must say, however, that i have learned a lot more about the city and means of getting around because of this incident. i learned how to use the bus, for example. and the buses are really quite the lovely way to get around! you can actually see paris. (i do a lot of window shopping while im on the bus.) most days have involved at least a half hour walk, if not an hour and a half, depending on the traffic on the streets and which metros are actually running at a normal rate. you have to be quite strategic in how you plan how you will get to where you need to be - when i go to work, i would rather leave later rather than earlier, as if you leave earlier, it will be busier and you'll just be all the more pissed off when you get to work, even if you would arrive ten minutes later if you took the later trains. not that it actually mattered this week, as it was impossible to gauge when i would actually arrive on the western side of paris while walking out my door. i just had to be ready to go with the flow, take whatever i could take, and walk however far i had to.

i nearly passed out/threw up on the metro monday morning. i was under a lot of stress this past weekend and ended up getting a migraine on sunday night and continued right through monday and into tuesday. well, there is not much worse than being smooshed in the back part of the metro with a migraine. i started feeling out of it and really woozy around the st. augustin stop, and by st. phillippe de roule, i had to get off. i did not want to be the 'american who threw up on the metro.'

anyway, as tomorrow is thanksgiving, we were able to leave work around 4 this afternoon, so i bolted to the metro and just got on the train (the 9 is running about one train every 7 minutes now - quite the improvement, as it was one every 45 minutes a couple days ago). i was able to sit the entire way back to republique - huge improvement. i was home in 45 minutes - it felt like i hadn't gotten home that quickly (yeah, i think 45 minutes is really quick now) in what feels like decades.

(oh, the photos in sepia are from the chatelet metro station - i was going to transfer to the line 1 towards la defense, but when i saw this mob of people waiting to just get on the platform, i opted to take some pictures, peace out, and search for a bus.)

it was still daylight when i escalated up from the metro, and i decided to go get a pastry and sit in parc des buttes chaumonts for awhile. well, the patisserie i planned to stop at was closed, but i opted for a good walk around the park first (and then went on the tarte mission). i walked up to this great little gazebo-esque thing and checked out the sun setting behind sacre coeur. i kept hoping that they would light sacre coeur up while i was standing there. i hate the montmartre area cuz it's soooooo seedy, but i just love sacre coeur. it is beautiful!

it was really a lovely evening for a walk. it has been kind of rainy here as of late, but today was clear and a bit warmer. as the sun went down, you could feel the damp crispness of the season creeping towards winter, but still holding onto fall and its red and orange leaves as long as possible. my nose felt cold. i touched it and it was. i only get that really cold nose feeling when its late fall. im really looking forward to it getting colder, though. that means christmas. and the holidays in paris are just beautiful.

after my little stroll, i decided to find that pastry. i have not had a real pastry for a few days (and when i say real, i do not mean a croissant or a pain au chocolat - yes, these are real, but i wanted a fancy pastry, a tarte, a mille feuille, an eclair, something rich and extravagent) and i have been craving one desperately! every day when i finally make it to work after two or so hours in transit, i walk by a patisserie and so badly want to reward myself for going to work. but then i resist and hope that my friend and i will take a break and get pastry. it has not happened lately. sad.

BUT i got my pastry tonight! i found a darling little boulangerie/patisserie on avenue simon bolivar and i bought myself dinner. a piece of quiche provencal and a 'tartelette aux fruits rouges." i love the literal translation for that - little tart of red fruits. my quiche was divine and i am making rich, delicious dark hot chocolate to go along with my red fruited tart.

if you all were on the edge about coming to paris, hasn't my raving about pastry changed your mind?

i only sip the sizzurp...

i.love.kanye.west.

he rocked (and continues to rock) my mothafuckin world.

and to get all of my readers ready to go, here are some videos from last night (stolen from someone's website - i didnt bring my camera in)

through the wire.
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3ie8q_kanye-west-2007-zenith_street

get 'em high
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3ie9p_kanye-west-paris-2007_street

now let's get this clear...it has been one week (short time) since kanye's mom died after having plastic surgery. and let's get this point even clearer - kanye's best friend was his mom.

yet he still performed.

i think he's my hero.

well, jay still might get that title.

my friend jamie didn't believe me when i said he was still gonna perform. he was convinced that common would do the whole two hours. rubbish, i said. kanye will be here. kanye would not sell out to his fans - he would just cancel if he had to. we would understand - his best friend just passed.

but he came and put on an AMAZING show! the energy was CRAZYYYYYY! he had a whole band with him, string instruments, backup singers, dj, the works. no tigers or fireworks, as i had predicted, though.

common was great. i generally am biased against common, as i definitely met him and didn't realize who he was and more or less told him to go fuck himself, as i, too, am common. hahahaha. but he rocked. ill even include a link for his video.
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3ie92_kanye-west-zenith-2-common_street

i haven't quite decided what my favorite song from last night was. i didn't throw out an arm this down, but sista got down, yo. 'get em high' is def one of my favorite songs and it was the first really really crazy song he did, so i went bizzerk. and 'through the wire,' im sorry, but i don't think that there are better lyrics out there than, "i drink a boost for breakfast, an ensure for dizzert/somebody orders pancakes, i only sip the sizzurp."

the crowd was definitely french. and i mean this in every nice way. except for the fact that most of them only know kanye's newer stuff (really a shame, though, the college dropout is just so good!) jamie and i got down so hard, the people next to us were definitely like, 'what the fuck are they doing? and where did they come from?' haha, there was this big thuggish french guy by me (probably from my neighborhood, actually) and he must have been wondering who this rapping white girl was next to him.

kanye pulled off a great show. he paid tribute to his mom towards the end of the show. the music for 'hey mama' came on and a video was put up with a donda west-type angel woman. kanye broke down. he didn't sing at all on that song. the two backup singers and three people from the band came down and talked to him. he walked off for a few minutes. then they sang 'don't stop believing' by journey, dedicated to his mom. i wanted to cry. i actually started tearing up. he is tough, man, and put on a great show despite the circumstances.

jamie bought me a pretty baller kanye shirt. maybe ill find someone to wear over it at work. great great show. oh, and i have managed to get two very large bruises on my calves from jumping up and down so much and rubbing into my chair.

the price a girl will pay for good music.

dodge the dodge-y

after my fresh fruit vendor this morning, i more or less had had it with men.

until i went to get my dry cleaning tonight. now it's over. i'm becoming a lesbian.

i left my apartment (and mind you, i am all clean and looking pretty baller cuz im going to see kanye shortly) and light up a cig, cuz it's one of those days that you need legal drugs. so looking baller plus smoking must equal mad sexy to the sketch parisian men. (and mind you, i kinda live out in the ghetto) i had not been a minute into kanye when this god damn fucking piece of trash parisian scumbag sees me and runs up and just starts walking next to me. i ignore him. he continues. then he starts saying, 'ca va? ca va?' yeah, im real fucking 'ca va' when you're all up in my grill, g. (sorry, kinda ghetto tonight, gotta get ready for kanye) finally, i just stop, look him in the eye, and say (real bitchy), 's'il vous plait, laisse moi seule.' (that means, 'please, leave me alone.') it stopped the bastard in his tracks, but he then proceeded to yell, 'what? what? what?' whatev, g.

i continued to the dry cleaner (where, of course, my shit still wasnt ready for the second time today) and wished i had more cigs with. i thought to myself, 'perhaps ill start smearing shit all over myself and then they'll stay away.'

I HATE DODGY MEN!

i can generally deal with this and ignore it, but man, sometimes you just want some fucking pepperspray.

on my way back home, i crossed the street so that i wouldn't have to deal with mr. etch-a-sketch again. it's sad when you actually have to go out of your way to avoid someone.

i feel like im back in college, avoiding my freshman roommate.........

oh snap.

(i apologize for my sailor mouth tonight)

the only thing i like more than beaujolais nouveau...

...is FREE BEAUJOLAIS NOUVEAU!!!

my local marche had a fete de beauj today. since my fruit vendor loves me (no, seriously, this is a L-O-L-O-L-O-L-O-V-E kinda of thing - but so not reciprocal), he gave me three tickets for free bottles. ha, and i only spent ten euros there today, too.

but he is getting hugely annoying. the whole customer-vendor relationship is not what it used to be...he's beginning to get a tad too fresh for my taste. he asked if i wanted to get a coffee...i said yes...huge mistake. instead of going to the cherie cafe across the way, we went into some little dark joint down the street. 'no' does not mean 'no' to men, especially him. i have clarified that i have a boyfriend (jigga what!?) and that doesn't mean shit.

all i know is that from now on, i will get my produce and peace the fuck out.

after getting more or less assaulted (jk), i made my way to my cheese/egg lady, who i just love. and i am loved by her and the other girl who works there.

and then i 'won' three bottles of beauj nouveau. this are special bottles. i will try to bring them home...unless i drink them first.

on a different note, i saw france play maroc in soccer last night. 2-2 tie. oh my god, it was so cold. it took me about two hours to thaw once i got home. i was a bit disappointed in the french fans, however. morocco represented! after being immersed in a sea of moroccans, ive decided that i want to learn arabic (well, it wasn't just this immersion, ive been toying with the idea for awhile).

the following video shows morocco's spirit and how they dislike the french soccer team...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flea9vY7vBE

the most wonderful day of the year...

today is the day...the new beaujolais has arrived! and as i did last year, i made my way to monoprix to pick up a couple bottles. it's quite nice, hints of raspberry and cherry. it was a year ago today that all of the madison kids (plus alexis) made way to mecano for too many bottles of this delicious liquid. instead of mecano, i will enjoy my bottle while doing work.

say what?

yes, work, i said it. i will do work tonight. i worked from home again today cuz of the metro strike. i think ill go in tomorrow, i should be able to get there a little easier. i think ive actually done more work at home than at the office...haha, i actually have work to do here. and i can focus. and i can jam out to kanye and ibiza trance. and jam out i do. nothing like looking up pictures of important people and formatting a word document while rapping along...

i learned today that i need to eat my cheese faster. i bought this beautiful round of fresh chevre at the market saturday (ok, seriously, its only thursday. it hasnt been that long.) and i went to eat it today and it had some little mold crystals growing on it. well, when a girl has mold on good cheese, she cuts off the edges. the middle is perfectly fine and it went lovely along with my new beauj. dear friends, i hope you are still my friends, even now you know that i will, once in awhile, eat moldy cheese. i dont actually eat the mold. i eat around the mold.

hehe.

ive decided that i will meet my man in monoprix. i was checking out tonight and think i saw one of the sexiest men in the world. so foreign looking, but with these beautiful blue eyes. monoprix is where it's at. or galeries lafayette...

speaking of men, um, i have a date? HUH? dating? who does that anymore? well, i consider it to be more of a french-english language exchange, but i will be having dinner made for me next week by a man. how weird. im sort of nervous. im a bit of a food snob. at least he knows that i don't eat meat. ill stock up on wine this weekend. if it's really bad, ill just drink my dinner.

still no word on the kanye show this weekend. he cancelled his appearance at a victoria's secret fashion show today. my hopes aren't up - if you cancel when you'll be performing around gisele and heidi, its not looking too good that you'll come to paris (even for me. the nerve.). apparently his mum was getting a boob job and tummy tuck and it went horribly wrong. looks like that surgeon is fucked for good.

i now have a request for all fans of my bloggie...actually two requests...(besides still loving me for eating moldy cheese)

1 - if you know how to cook a whole artichoke, please let me know. alexis and i bought two and she was going to teach me, but we were either too hung over to eat real food or too drunk to want to eat real food.

2 - if you have any good recipes for tarte (or better yet, want to make me tarte on a daily basis when i return), let me know. i will die without tarte.

gros gros gros bisous de paris!

maybe i should take a different metro entrance...

every morning when i enter the metro, i pick up the 'matinplus' paper from my matinplus paper guy. he's cute, always gives me a big smile, and is genuinely happy to give me my paper.

he asked for my number last friday. i smiled and walked away.

tuesday: it was go time, on his part, at least. i approached, looking chic and rocking out to jay's new album. i had a swagger in my step. 'bonjour, merci, bon journee,' i said as i grabbed my paper. matinplus paper guy pointed at the paper and said something i couldn't hear, as hova was blasting in my earbuds. as i walked down the stairs and entered the metro, i looked at the paper...

"I LOVE YOU. is your beautiful. my name louis. number 06...."

i laughed my ass off all the way until i got on the metro (where my joy was ended by the sardine can that the metro had become the day before the big strike). this guy was ready.

or maybe he does this for all the ladies...

i can only imagine my next five weeks of metro-entering.

maybe its good that the strike is supposed to last for a week or so!

sad news...

kanye's mom died a few days ago and the funeral is tuesday. sooooooo my saturday night plans may be cancelled.

i will cry. i have been listening to kanye all day, willing him to come to paris and pull through this.

give me a day off and a bottle of wine and watch what happens.

alexis and i began our monday (i had it off, as sunday was veteran's day, and my work recognized it on monday) with a trip to notre dame and a quick jaunt up 400-some steps to see the towers and gargoyles. holy coolness. i know, it is ridiculously touristy, but it was a monday so i didn't feel like such a stupid tourist. and wow, what a view! unfortunately my camera battery was dead from saturday night's craziness and of course, i did not realize this until i had taken the metro to hotel de ville, walked to notre dame, bought my notre dame ticket, and walked up the tower of notre dame. i guess ill just have to go back with a certain two people...

LESLIE...

AND MY MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yes, nancy is coming to paris. HOW EXCITING IS THAT?!!!!!!!!!!! that was my 'secret' a few days back...i've been given the go-ahead to post said information.

CANT WAIT!!!

so anyway, ladies, i have plans for you...and they involved the towers and gargoyles of notre dame, along with me and a fully-charged battery. start doing your squats and lunges and get those legs ready to go up those stairs.

after alexis and i descended the numerous amount of steps, we headed off to jardin du luxembourg, stopping for a sandwich a emporter on the way. it was a really beautiful day, clear, sunny, not too cold. a crisp autumn day. perfection. we were unable to find french children riding shetland ponies (ok, i dont hate children as much this week as i did last week), but we did find a few old men playing chess. and we found the statue of the statue of liberty.

we then made our way to les halles and to my bodum store. i say, 'mine,' because it is. i love this store and it loves me. i bought a travel french press mug and am very excited to try it out. i need to find some coarsely ground coffee first. then ill let you know the final decision on the product.

we then got a bit lost heading to the centre pompidou, but we did see some ridiculously sexy policemen on rollerblades (rollerblades are generally so unsexy, but not today), one of which i managed to play some mad flirty eyes with. i think i could date a policemen, especially a french one.

continuing right along (desolee, i have to discuss sexy men), we finally found pompidou. i left alexis to putter around there and i ran home to charge my battery (we had plans for the night) and to run some errands before my week of work began.

after a quick trip to monoprix, some cleaning, and some doing of the nails, i made my way back to pompidou to meet alexis. when i arrived, i asked what she wanted to do. my question was responded to with, "i want to sit and have a drink." well, that sounds right up my alley. i asked where. "how about up there?" was her answer as she pointed to a salon du the above my favorite papeterie in paris. we made our way up there, only to be greeted by a very cute irish looking french man. we asked for red wine. he asked how many? no, we did not one one. we did not want two. (glasses, that is.) we wanted a bottle. and a very large bottle of beaujolais is what we got.

two hours, a piece of chocolate cake (that was over-microwaved by aforementioned cute irish-french guy), one bottle of wine later...we were drunk. as skunks. and as always happens, we had become friends with cute irish-french guy. as it was nearing the 8 o'clock hour, we knew that we had to make our way to place de la concorde to hop on the ferris wheel before the tour eiffel started its twinkling act. off we ran, but not without getting the name of our guy and an invite to return the next night (too bad the metro strike started when he wanted us to come back...sorry, cutie cute, im not walking home from pompidou).

oh, his name is maxim.

i think that's how you spell it.

off to concorde we metro-ed. as it was a monday night, no one was there and we had the pick of ferris wheel cars. as we were quite beaujolais-ed up and as we are quite chatty and happy in such a state, we made friends with one of the ferris wheel operators. this is what i like to call...

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS 101...

he loved us so much that he let us stay on the ferris wheel for a few extra spins. sooo much fun!

with regards to this video, i apologize. i was a bit drunk and the coastie accent made it's out to play...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRtelZ6BGW0

(and im sorry but my upload thingy on blogger was going too slow. just click the link.)

when we were done, he asked for my number (ew) and then opted to give me his. goody.

we then made our way towards opera and to the department stores. galeries lafayette was lit up last week and printemps lit up monday. we bought a cone of roasted chestnuts and strolled our drunk asses past the beautiful christmas windows. it was nine o'clock and time to go home. cake and chestnuts do not soak up a bottle of wine. we came home. and passed the f-word out.

the alexis-kendra reunion.

alexis and i have decided that we cannot see each other in the states. only in france. i dont care how arrogant or spoiled i sound - we will just never see rendezvous stateside. it would be sacreligious...

we began our saturday morning with a stroll through the market. i bought four fabulously tasty cheeses and my usual dix oeufs. i am beginning to be adored by my cheese/egg ladies. they give me samples of stuff. im all about relationship buildling here. and buying cheese on a weekly basis is how it is done.

i introduced alexis to my fruit guy. he is a little fresh. he invited us to smoke shisha with him that night at a place near mecano. i actually considered going. but then things came up. i hope that didnt fuck up my discount. (oh yeah, this week, i got 8 euros off and free onions, mint, some weird herb, and more lettuce. i love my weekly cadeaus.)

after the market, we made our way to my favorite little park - buttes chaumont. i write about this place all the time, but it really is great. we went up to the highest part of the park and could see sacre coeur. i love sacre coeur, even if i bitch about walking up those fucking steps every time i go. while we were wandering about, we saw four pompiers vehicles. my heart began to race. four pompiers vehicles yields at least 10 pompiers. yummy. nothing like a fireman who speaks french. they were doing some training in the park. see, there are all kinds of cliffs and waterfalls and crazy little passages. they had out all of this rock climbing gear and had a little aparatus rigged up to hoist an injured person out of there. yes, the picture with the little yellow body bag thing in the corner had a real person in it. poor fella just laid there while the pompiers decided how to hoist him up. scary. i like my pompiers where i can see them - not hoisting me up in a bag.

we opted to go off to galeries lafayette and check out the view of the city. again, dont send me to lafayette on a saturday if you want me to spend money. i cant stand busy department stores. we made our way through there quickly. i must mention, however, that the christmas lights are up and the window displays have been unveiled. AND THEY ROCK! i only saw them during the day, but will go back soon to see the view at night. and i will pick up a cone of roasted chestnuts. tres romantique.

after some mosey-ing, we ended up near montmartre and had bowls of french onion soup. delish. we both were getting tired and i think that we both easily could have passed out sitting at the restaurant. we made our way back and took some naps. we would need it for the craziness to come...

which, of course, involved the mecano bar. they stay open until 6 am on sunday morning, so we knew that our night would be long and insane. and it was. my darling friend jamie and a new intern buddy came over chez moi for some pre-mecano cocktails and a little talib/kanye breakout session. and then off to the metro we strolled, with me and jamie arm-in-arm, pretending to be lovers, as my stalker, claude, insisted (again) on gazing into my apt. as we neared the metro, it was decided that a photoshoot was necessary. jamie and i break out into photoshoots all the time when we are together. the results are generally quite entertaining.

we made it to mecano safely and strutted our baller asses in. there is not much i enjoy more than walking in to some establishment and feeling like i own the joint. our friends are there. they are wonderful and treat us like gold! unfortunately, we still have to pay for our drinks (that much hasn't changed), but we get them really quickly and with a big smile from our new pal zoey. it was more or less a chaotic night of vodka pommes and weird shots mixed with vodka and random liquers (malaba - some fucked up bubble gum liquer - who would create such a substance?), along with too many ciggies. when in france, i justify.

i somehow managed to strike up a conversation with this moroccan guy, who ended up being from tetouan, which i travelled through when i went to chefchaouen last year. he was nice and didn't seem too pervy. as i was a bit under the influence, my number went out. oops.

other man story...i was talking to a group of three french guys (none of whom were overly cute or charming) and they commented on how tall i was. i pointed to the three inch heels i was wearing, and then said, and i quote (this was all in french, too): "don't worry. i'm not a tiger, but i am a pussycat." end quote. they enjoyed that little comment. and then i ran away. back to my drink and a cig.

i do believe that we lasted until around 3:30. after a bit of difficulty, we all found taxis home. alexis and i decided to stay up until 5:30 and then finally crashed. today is the first day that i have not left my apartment, not even to go across the street and buy bread (i made alexis do that). i have not felt this shitty in awhile. granted, i have not gone out in a major way in awhile. i have no tolerance anymore (did i ever, though?). i must admit, though, that whenever i go to the mecano bar, i never NEVER say 'absolut-pomme.' it's always 'vodka-pomme,' and that vodka is the cheapest shit ever. why can't i remember that the night of the chaos and not the morning after when i feel like hell?

we got some nice souvenirs last night. glasses. we always walk out of these bars with purses full of glasses. the booty is great!

the meat-eating vegetarian.

question: what does one do when one goes to one's old watering hole (where one never get anything free) and is greeted with a free plate of meat, as a kind gesture of one's returned presence?

answer: one eats meat. one ate french bologna and one ate french salami. one did not eat the french mystery meat that looked like a mixture of pate and tongue. one is a vegetarian. but when in france, one must do as the french do. and apparently they eat meat. but not mystery meat.

enough one-speak. (what person would that be considered? second? third? why don't i know this?) alexis and i had crepes and then were greeted with a large plate of meats at mecano. such a sweet gesture. if only it had been cheese...

on our walk home down rue oberkampf, a crazy person heard us speaking english. he screams, "BON" which sounded like "BOO," but was followed by "soiree," so he was really trying to be nice, er, not really. i followed his bon soiree with my own "JESUS CHRIST!!" and then he followed that with "BULL SHIT!" oh the french and their sometimes little knowledge of english.

once we hit belleville (not the metro, but the boulevard - kinda far from the metro and even farther from my home), it began to rain. by the time we were home, we were more or less drenched. but we are drenched in paris, so it is ok.

it was lovely to be back in my favorite bar with a good old friend drinking vodka pommes. the owner came over and struck up a big conversation with us, as we were remembered and loved. he told me how he was just in new york for a couple weeks and how he just loved it. he kept raving about how kind americans are, how the service was just great at restaurants, bars, in taxis. it's always good to hear a french person say that french service sucks. i feel that sometimes i get used to being treated kinda shitty (which really isn't a lot, cuz i have my places where my people adore me and treat me like gold) because i dont speak that great of french. it's not that i scream american, but i dont scream french. americans like french. french like americans. but there are just these stereotypes that suck, dude. so when a french person talks about how he likes america and how the service is great, it is refreshing.

by the way, the mecano bar looks great. it is very bright and cheery, not nearly as dark as before. bright red walls, very open. the architecture is the same but it seems bigger. and no lana, there are no hats to steal. but we did get some glasses...

metro diaries...paris style

on my ride home tonight, i sat on the metro reading my morning metro papers that i had not been able to get through this morning, as i was smooshed up against someone's body. three people got on, two girls, one guy. all very chic looking. immediately i think, 'parisian (not french), of course.' but then they started speaking. i kept hearing words through my headphones that sounded english. i paused the music and attempted to determine what the mystery language of the evening was. it honestly sounded like a mix of french, english, chinese, italian, spanish. i was so confused. i think it was german, i really have no idea, though. it was all greek (but not) to me.

as i was walking out of the belleville stop, i zipped by the people coming in. on my way by, i saw this guy get stuck in the thingy. im not sure if he was trying to jump over the turn-stile or if he just rambed into it, but our eyes met and the look on his face was just priceless. my stone-cold, serious face, rushing to get out of the metro melted and smiled. fucking priceless, man. moments like that, i wish i had a camera out and ready to go.

holy shit, i actually had a full day's worth of work. it ruled. well, not really, but it was so nice to be productive and create stuff! great meetings, too. i love my coworkers, all so intelligent and dont settle for shit. it's good to work with people who do not accept mediocrity. refreshing.

alexis is coming tout-de-suite! can't wait. mecano, here we come!

on why the french are so thin, and why i love to eat

i have realized a stark difference between the people of france and the people of america. french people eat real food. americans eat chemicals. the french buy fresh baguettes everyday. americans buy bread that lasts two weeks. the french eat chocolate, fat, sugar, flour. americans eat splenda, olestra, god i dont even know what is in fake flour. if you can't say it, americans probably eat it. i went to the grocery store tonight, as i dont want to waste time while alexis is here with buying groceries. i now understand the work for 'skim,' as in 'skim milk,' but i still prefer to buy the demi-creme, which is probably worse for you than 2%. but it is so delicious. i sit here, eating a bowl of some sort of delicious-ness that is chocolate and vanilla ice cream, but all whippy and full of wonderfulness, washing it down with a nice cold glass of cream. if i ate the fat-free, sugar-free, chemical-filled fake-ness that americans call ice cream, i would probably eat the whole carton, washed down with a couple glasses of skim. but no, here it's a little bowl of pleasure and a small glass of fatty goodness. and this leads me to why french people are thin...they are satisfied. oh my god, i am so satisfied right now. (and no, i am not 300 fucking pounds, either...hahahahah) i ate real cheese and real bread for dinner, with a lovely salad made of real lettuce and topped with real hard boiled eggs and real zucchini. i am being france-centric right now and i dont care. the food here is just simply amazing, even if it comes from cheapo lidl.

on another note, i realized at lidl today that i had only bought liquid fabric softener, and that my last load of laundry was only washed with said product. i figured id be safe and buy the lessive tonight. how dumb am i? adoucissant was written right above the bottle last week. douce means soft. i guess being tall, you never really think of looking above you...

sweet dreams are made of these. who am i to disagree?

i have two very exciting weekends coming up! my darling friend, alexis, who was frequently discussed in my kenzalicious blog last year, informed me on monday morning that she would be coming to paris this thursday, yes, as in two days from now! i can't wait! mecano, here we come. i have to save my feet for all the going out that we will be doing. mmmmmm i can just taste the vodka pommes now...

the kanye tix are in. the france-maroc soccer tix are in. beaujolais nouveau is next thursday. craziness will be next weekend.

i sometimes wonder how i was chosen to come to paris to intern, how i had that mad amount of luck. i remember applying for this job, knowing that if chosen, i could be placed virtually anywhere. and to be back in paris just amazes me. my friend and i took a walk this afternoon to get coffee, which ended up not being coffee, but a trip to place de trocadero. i had no idea we were so close! on the way back to the grind (which was not really grinding much today), we stopped for a pastry. too bad i like chocolate. too bad i like sugar. actually, i take that back. paris would be no fun if you didn't like the foods that are bad for you. i love pastries. enough said.

when i was walking to the metro tonight to begin my journey back to the 19th, i looked up and the eiffel tour just sort of emerged from behind the buildings. it is stuff like that that just makes me smile and have a little moment with myself.

i immediately took off my heels when in got through my door. i have a hole in the toe next to the little guy on my right foot. it literally is this hole on the top from having a blister and then not letting it heal. and now it just wont. it is ridiculously painful, but some outfits do require heels. but my outfit did not require them once i was through my door. they came off, i braced myself and cracked my feet and took the first few painful steps of letting my feet release and breathe. i flipped on the radio. this is where my dorky self came out. this horrible song from the 80s, maybe early 90s was on. it was that 'sweet dreams are made of these, blah blah blah' song and you know what? the song sucks and it is wholly annoying, but it was in english and it was just candy to my ears and soul. i whipped off my trousers (no shoes or pants necessary here) and busted out to that wretched tune. thank god my shutters are shut. i can't even tell you how amazing it felt to be really weird. i work in a professional environment. i can't act ridiculous at work. i save all that energy up and then dance around my apartment.

even though he didn't see me sans pants, claude is back. that bastard stalker of mine has been around now and again, although he had disappeared for awhile once i realized i had shutters. i dont know what is so enthralling about watching an apartment with the shutters closed, smoking cigarettes, and talking on a cellphone. oh claude, what are we gonna do with you? too bad i threw my old moldy jack-o-lantern away, i could have thrown it at him.

strasbourg train tickets are in! i couldn't believe it - i ordered them yesterday afternoon from work. how in the hell did they get them to me so fast? amazingness.

im almost halfway done with my job. time is flying by! c'est triste, trop triste. i love paris. it is home.

i have the luck.

shhh...i have a secret...but i can't tell until a certain person tells me its ok...i was specifically told not to reveal it on my bloggie for awhile.

but i can tell you about my day. it began in a rather unusual way. it is sunday, and on most sundays, i tend to sleep until at least 8 or 9, if i haven't gone out the night before, as was the case this weekend. but no, 6:30 came around and my eyes popped open. i felt nervous. it was weird. i stayed up until around 8, but decided i needed to sleep a bit more if i was going to be at all productive today. awoke around 9:30 and decided to explore my hood a bit. it is a hood. my area is, shall we say, a bit ghetto? don't worry, its completely safe, but it definitely is one of the more ghetto-y areas of paris. i do live really close to the periphery, which is right next to the banlieue, and alas, more ghettos. i feel safe, generally, if i just am not out and about really late at night. (mom, relax, i wont get shot up.)

i had a mission this morning...to find a hammam in my area. a hammam is a moroccan-style spa and i ran across one online the other day that happens to be in my arrondissement. i read about hammams last year when i went to morocco, but didn't have the balls to go by myself. as i have some darling people visiting me, i thought this could be a nice relaxing activity. after a long stroll through parc de buttes chaumont, i realized that i had walked in the completely wrong direction and proceeded to right myself. 20 minutes later, i had found my spa (looks ok, all the windows are covered with curtains, as people are running around in there in swim suits, so you couldn't really see a whole lot) and realized that i definitely had not gotten enough sleep. i made my way home, after being 'eye-fucked' by too many nasty men. guys here really are bad. girls, if you think that men at home don't pay enough attention to you and that you are sick of having to do all the work, start appreciating it. when skeezy men look you up and down like a starving dog woul look at a raw rack of lamb, it is disgusting and you begin to realize how it is nice to not be looked at. ive heard that italian men are worse than the french, though. if a girl makes eye contact with an italian men, it apparently means (to him) that she is ready to just go hop in the sack with him, right then and there. long live cultural differences, i guess.

i made it home without too many dodgy fellows, although i did have some loser ask me what street we were on (um, as if the fucking street sign wasn't posted on the buildling behind me) and then where i was from. english stephanie appeared. he was disappointed - thought i was dutch and had gotten excited. yes, i am dutch, and i have some killer herb at my apartment, too. riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite. (ps, that is a joke, to anyone from work who may be reading this.)

i was in a funk today. i felt in a state of limbo. i feel very much at home now, and going out and doing touristy things in the city just didn't appeal to me. it was like a cold, snowy day back in madison where all you want to do is curl up in bed and watch a movie. but it was a gray, fall morning in paris and i just wanted to do nothing. but i couldn't do nothing, cuz im in paris, and i felt guilty for doing nothing. i finally began to do something around three, and i made my way to rambuteau to get postcards from my favorite papeterie. i stopped in a touristy shop to pick up some more postcards and i heard people speaking english. i actually thought, 'wow, that sounds kind of bad.' as it was a tourist shop and i was buying postcards, it was assumed that i did not speak french. but when i said everything back to the cashier in french after being spoken to in english, he actually believed that i was french. it felt nice. i walked my high horse out of there, away from those english speakers. rubbish.

i walked down the way and over to les halles. les halles is a big underground shopping center, the closest thing that paris has to an american mall. there are also two movie theatres in les halles. the place is crazy and i generally just walk around it and not go in. i dont like to go inside shopping centers on weekends. too busy for me. too much action. BUT, one of my favorite stores in paris happens to be on the outside of les halles. this store would be the bodum store, the maker of all things glass. they make the most wonderful french presses. i saw my dream today. i am a firm believer in the superiorness of the coffee that a french press produces. in the states, however, i only drink french press after dinner, as i need a lot of drip coffee in the morning to wake me up, not to mention that i have a tiny little french press. i thought up an idea this summer - to make a travel mug that is a french press. holy shit bodum already thought that up. i saw it today. ten euros! so cheap. i will be back for it. im going to buy a couple, in case one breaks in transit back to america. my day was made when i saw this. i only stayed a few more minutes. i could do mad damage in that store...

...so i left and made my way towards the seine. it was around four by this time and the sun was starting to dip lower towards the earth. the leaves are all starting to turn their deep reds and buttery yellows, and the scent of fall was in the air. i had a flashback of being about six years old, cutting down poppel trees with my brother. we would take a knife and skin off the bark and make cane fishing poles. the smell of the innards of a poppel tree is wonderful, sweet and fresh and dewy. that's what my walk smelled like. i took the steps down to the bank of the river and strolled along for awhile. it was a nice escape from people. i was on the left bank, and when i could see that i had neared the end of the louvre on the right bank and tuileries was approaching, i headed back up the stairs and crossed a bridge. the sun was beginning to set and you could see its rays poking out from behind musee d'orsay. i was out of my funk. the day had turned beautiful and i felt so alive. i continued my walk towards the eiffel tower. i kept thinking, 'j'ai de la chance, j'ai de la chance, j'ai de la chance!!!' (i am lucky, i am lucky, i am lucky!) to be back in paris, a city that i fell in love with such a short time ago, is just wonderful. the thing that saddens me, however, is that my time here is flying by!

its ok, i guess. i WILL be back.

allez les bleues!!!!!!!

TICKETS HAVE BEEN ORDERED!!!

la vie en fromage.

at my marche today, i went to my cheese/egg lady and picked up dix oeufs, a tranche chaque of port salut, emmenthal, and chevre frais. fresh fucking chevre cheese. heaven on earth. i just ate a quarter of the round of the cheese for dinner. my mouth orgasmed. you could cover hitler in this cheese and i would be willing to lick it off, it is that wonderful. it tastes like chevre normally does, but the texture is just so light and delicate, the flavor just explodes in your mouth, but in the most subtle way. i so look forward to my week's worth of sandwiches made with this cheese and slices of zucchini.

as always, i went to my produce guy. i learned a lesson today - that i need to get to my market earlier. it was busy today and my guy seemed crabby. but he still gave me a deal - five euros off again, and a head of lettuce as my weekly cadeau. i so look forward to taking my visiting friends to this market.

after a little catnap around noon, i got up and made my way to galeries lafayette. i learned another lesson today - if i dont want to spend money, go to lafayette on a saturday. i was in and out (of both lafayette homme and the main store) within thirty minutes. i had to make my way through the men's store to see my pseudo boyfriend, jake gyllenhaal. my eyes needed their candy and candy they had. such a cutie. OH, and my dream is true...i had mentioned earlier that if galeries lafayette and monoprix were combined and then i could put an apartment on top, i would be in heaven. well, i dont have my apartment, but there is definitely the equivalent of a monoprix. it's 'lafayette gourmet,' and gourmet a lot of it certainly is. but there is normal food, too, just like a monoprix. when i saw all of this, i kept wondering if it was real...

i left lafayette and made my way towards l'opera garnier. they had been doing all kinds of work on it last year and i hoped they had finished. some was done, but there was still a big chunk of the front covered up with boards. it doesn't matter, though, opera garnier is so beautiful. another place i look forward to taking friends, at least for just a look at the facade.

i wandered down boulevard de la madeline and on my way, i found la maison du chocolat, only the most wonderful chocolate store in paris (as well as london, nyc, and tokyo). their truffles are divine. the window display was full of eclairs. it took all of my willpower to keep on walking. i prefer to wear my money, rather than eat it...but i had not found anything to wear so an eclair seemed like a good idea...and i digress...made my way to the madeline. i think that the madeline is a church (no, wait, it's a cookie). i kept thinking of the short film in 'paris, je t'aime,' where elijah wood is at the madeline and he sees a sexy female vampire and he gets scared and falls down the stairs and starts to bleed to death, but then the sexy vampire rescues him and he turns into a vampire and they fall madly into vampire love. anyway, i hated that short film and now i am biased against the madeline and surrounding area. although, fauchon is nearby, and they are supposed to have some of the best foods in paris. maybe ill give it a try and then i wont dislike the madeline.

while i was wandering today, i began to remember how everything is connected. i ended up at place de la concorde. i completely forgot how close lafayette was to the champs elysees. and as i was feeling rather chic this afternoon, i felt that a stroll down the champs was in order. i really am excited for christmas-time. the trees on the champs have been strung with lights, and they even have these big clear cylinders hanging down that i am assuming will light up. im not quite sure when they turn on the lights, but perhaps google will know. OH, and the windows at lafayette are all covered up with red fabric...but i know they're ready and they will be unveiled very soon. young boys were selling roasted chestnuts near there today. i couldn't help but turn on 'charlie brown christmas' and stroll around with a smile on my face.

my new saturday morning activity

from now on, i will be working a run through the parc de buttes chaumont into my saturday morning routine. it is a magical place. and to make it even better, the pompiers (the sexy parisian firemen) take a morning run through the parc. i actually wanted to purposely fall down so a hot pompier could come rescue me.

yes, i hate babies.

in my previous post, i mentioned how i dislike children. my metro ride home confirmed said fact. a husband and wife get onto the metro with a toddler and a baby. the dad is taking care of the toddler, making sure he doesn't fall down or get smooshed. the mother has the baby strapped onto her chest in one of those ugly, god forsaken baby bjorn contraptions. i dont care if these devices are good for the baby or whatever reason one would decide to purchase it, they are ugly. but this is besides the point. most baby shit is unfashionable. but what is not unfashionable is my new karen millen coat that i would prefer to not have pawed at by a baby in its baby bjorn device. looking as chic as can be and having a pleasant ride home on the metro while listening to some edith piaf was interrupted by said baby. i am just not baby/child/pet friendly. adults, i can handle. small creatures - not so much. when i began my journey on the metro, i was able to get a seat and rest my tired soles. baby bjorn kept pointing at me. when i looked at him, those big dopey eyes stared back at me. and then he began to cry. i believe i actually tried smiling at him. and then tears. once the tears subsided, baby bjorn started reaching towards me, trying to touch my coat, grabbing at my headphones, touching my bag. ok friends, i realize that babies do not have cooties and it doesn't matter if this creature was touching my shit. but first comes touching and then comes puking. i do not want to be in a five foot radius of a baby spewing up his lunch. i eventually stood up, as the metro became rather busy and i was only getting baby's shoes clunking into me every five seconds. when i stood up, baby bjorn was scared because i was taller than he realized. good. i showed that little bastard. then he realized that i was harmless and began to poke at me again. he touched my bag, he touched my ipod, but that little creature did not get karen.

two satc episodes come to mind (i am sorry for all of these references, but it is who i am). first, the one where samantha goes out to lunch at a very expensive restaurant, only to hear mommy and son at the next table conversing in baby-talk. she ends up walking out of the restaurant, covered in spaghetti, after being pelted with them by the child. i, like samantha, prefer to have the fineries in life without a side of child. next, the episode where carrie goes to a party and has to take off her manolos because 'shoes bring in dirt and kids get sick from dirt.' her shoes are then stolen and after confronting the hostess about paying for them, as carrie would never take off her shoes at a party without being asked, the hostess is appalled that anyone would pay so much money for a pair of shoes. carrie chose shoes. hostess chose kids. i chose karen. and i prefer my karen with no kids.

end.of.story.

i lied. french children are just as naughty as their american counterpart.

i always have found french children to be darling. they are chic, they are cute, and damn it, they speak french. a tiny person who can converse in a beautiful language a million times better than i could ever dream of is just bound to be precious. when you understand what american kids are babbling about, you just think they're dumb. well today, on metro line 8 going to republique, my mind was changed. there were two children. KID ONE kept staring up at me. he was cute. i smiled at him. he just looked dumbfounded. awhile later, i wondered if his food had had alcohol or drugs mixed with it - the kid just kind of had these weird wandering eyes. he looked like he was on shrooms. KID TWO was a little bastard who needed a spanking (even though spanking is wholly unacceptable this day in age, probably even in france). his parents sat around him and they kept taking turns trying to shut him up. he was squirming around and yelling and being annoying. yes, he was being a child. but i am not child friendly, and therefore i find being a child to equate with being annoying. i actually paused my ipod to see if the father would speak in english (as up until today, i have not really heard a french child fussing - they're all docile and quiet. this is why i wonder if KID ONE, as well as all other french children, are given alcohol in their bottles), but no, the father scolded him in french. it was quite entertaining, i must admit, to see the father struggling so much to control his child. the mom offered to help but he seemed hell-bent on taking care of this situation. at one point, i wondered if he would just say 'fuck it' and throw the little bastard out of the metro. gosh i am so kid-unfriendly.

kids are kids, people are people, wherever one goes in the world. it is our environmental surroundings that really shape us. we all come out more or less the same, maybe a different color, a different shaped head, but for the most part, we're all the same. and then we are molded by our families and society and more or less become fucked up. and then we see the differences between us and decide that we really must be different because we appear different, speak differently, live in different parts of the world, believe different things. babies come out innocent. then they grow up and learn to hate.

maybe i shouldn't dislike children so much. they're probably a lot nicer than most adults. except when they cry and squirm in the metro (and i dont care what language they are crying in).

why i love leslie...

LOVE YOU TONS AND SEE YOU IN ONE MONTH AND 17DAYS : )!!!!!!!

globalization and all the other nonsense running through my mind

thanks to my dear friend, liesel, and thanks to her undying love for our dear old finance professor in paris, i was forwarded an event that took place at the american university of paris yesterday. i went to see nicholas burns, the number three guy in the state dept, speak about the relationship between france and the states. it was really interesting and awesome to see someone be so diplomatic when responding to really biased, tough questions. i also learned a lot more about what is going on in the world - i know that there are a lot of tough issues taking place all over the globe, but to actually know why and how something is going on, rather than just the fact that it is going on, was amazing. mr. burns was a great speaker and it was just so damn cool to see him give a little speech.

and now onto globalization....this wonderful concept is occuring at such a ridiculous rate right now...everything is connected. the problems going on in the world are so much more complex than they may seem - cuz everything is tied together and has insane impacts on the other side of the world. ive been putting a lot of thought into this topic lately...yes, im a huge dork. if you are in the biz school with me back at home, you may have had the pleasure of being in a global marketing class (which i just fucking hated) where i would bitch about how bad globalization is and how cultures are being smooshed together to one big universal, and most importantly, how globalization is ruining our environment. i still hate globalization for the environmental factors, but im beginning to realize that our earth is more or less fucked, with or without globalization. i really don't think that its globalization anymore - it's just that there are too many people here. the earth really can't sustain this many bodies without deteriorating. maybe if we all had compost piles in our backyards, didn't drive cars, recycled, didn't take airplanes ever, used public transportation, etc., the earth wouldn't be as fucked. but the aforementioned activities (or lack thereof) will never happen. perhaps we can get smarter cars, maybe smarter planes. it is my dream in life to have a compost pile (yeah, huge dork here), but i can't imagine that a lot of people are too big into composting. the environment is going to be fucked up with or without globalization...

now back to my point. (wait, what was my point again?) globalization is a good and an evil. do you realize how much knowledge is shared and how much more efficiently things can be done because of the amazing technologies that have sprung up in the last couple decades? it blows my mind. but these technologies aren't just used for good...terrorists can use this sort of technology to really harm societies and cultures all over the globe. it's really scary. you have no idea what is passing through cyberspace, who could be following your every movement and planning something accordingly. technology, man, i love it, but sometimes it just freaks me out. or it breaks.

ok enough heavy talk. after the burns talk, my friend and i started wandering back to the invalides metro and happened upon a lovely boulangerie/deli with a huge line outside. we knew it must be good. and amazing it was! we picked up some salads and made our way to a sunny little park bench. it was one of those, 'holy shit, we're really in paris...and this feels normal' moments. i walked her back to work and then hopped on the metro back to my work. on the way, we made time for a photo opp on my favorite bridge, pont alexandre III. the weather was beautiful, the sun was shining. being in paris just was the icing on the cake. pure perfection.

mad happiness here. :)

oh, by the way, no work for me today. it is all saints day. for the next 24 hours, you can just call me french and catholic. i am supposed to go put white mums in the cemetary. i thought maybe i would walk through the cemetary and see the white mums. or i may take one and find a lonely looking grave and give it some lovin.

i ran this morning for the first time in about four weeks. it was just great! parc de buttes chaumont is the neatest little place. fully of hills and stairs, twists and turns, random little jogs throught he woods, it is really a runner's paradise. hopefully i will have more time in the next few weeks to get my run on over there.

joss stone is performing this sunday in the 11th. im thinking of going.