So I have a theory that celebreties always die in groups of 3. Okay so it isn't my theory, I heard it on the radio when I was a wee little lad, but I like it. Case in point: Saddam, Ford, James Brown.
I hate Florida
Sorry I haven't been posting lately. I just got back though and have been busy, and now I head off to stupid Florida for a week. I have to go because my brother and his brand son are there. It doesn't lessen my hatred for Florida though.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
I love Rennes
So I went to Bretagne for two days, more specifically Rennes. It is the part of France that juts out into the ocean near England. Basically a peninsula, but sideways. Anyways it is where I studied four years ago. I went and saw my old host family, who are the best people in the world. They haven't really changed, are incredibly inviting, and just so damn nice. I also walked around Rennes, which made me happy because it brought the Christmas spirit back in me. In Paris, excluding the Champs Elysee, there is no hint of Christmas really. Hardly any lights or trees. In Rennes Christmas is everywhere. All the streets are lit up, trees and decorations everywhere, and a great Christmas market. The host family's house smelled of pine too. The only way I can describe Bretagne is like Maine but instead of massive forests in the middle it is all farmland like Iowa. So Maine on the coast with a little bit of Iowa in the center. That is probably why I love it.
When I got back to Paris what did I find on my computer screen? Well first I let one of the host daughters use my comp while I was gone. She is going to the US the same day as I am to spend some time with her boyfriend who is there teaching. So for all of those who speak French here go, for those that don't...sorry:
trois jours !!!! trois jours avant de te prendre dans mes bras... trois
jours avant de te dire des mots dans le cou... trois jours avant de te
petrire les seins... trois jours avant de rigoler avec toi du monde et de
ses perspectives... trois jours avant de te penetrer de mon sexe gonflé et
rouge d'envie... trois jours avant de t'entendre jouir... trois jours avant
d'ouvrir nos cadeaux...trois jours à tenir je vais avoir du mal... je
t'aime. (et pas depuis trois jours)
So...yeah.
As for me 1 day and I am home...fog and weather permitting.
When I got back to Paris what did I find on my computer screen? Well first I let one of the host daughters use my comp while I was gone. She is going to the US the same day as I am to spend some time with her boyfriend who is there teaching. So for all of those who speak French here go, for those that don't...sorry:
trois jours !!!! trois jours avant de te prendre dans mes bras... trois
jours avant de te dire des mots dans le cou... trois jours avant de te
petrire les seins... trois jours avant de rigoler avec toi du monde et de
ses perspectives... trois jours avant de te penetrer de mon sexe gonflé et
rouge d'envie... trois jours avant de t'entendre jouir... trois jours avant
d'ouvrir nos cadeaux...trois jours à tenir je vais avoir du mal... je
t'aime. (et pas depuis trois jours)
So...yeah.
As for me 1 day and I am home...fog and weather permitting.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Little Red Riding Hood 2: Crappy Disney
So I blame Disney. Who else can explain why my version of Little Red Riding Hood is so messed up. In class in Paris I learned in the original version not only does Little Red Riding Hood's Grandma get eaten but so does LRRH!! This was shocking news to me. Not quite like finding out Santa isn't real (I was one of the last people in my school to figure this out too) but still ranks up there.
So my version of LRRH: First off LRRH doesn't listen to the lumbejack's ("woodcutter") warning not to take that route to the house. This is important for two reasons. 1. It means that she ignores the woodcutter and does it anyways. 2. It means she doesn't talk to the Wolf in the beginning but the Wolf overhears LRRH and Woodcutter's conversation.
Next in my Disney GGGG+ rating version the damn Wolf doesn't eat the Grandma but puts her in a closet or something. If he ate Grandma then wouldn't LRRH have been asking such things as, "My what large bones you have stuck in your teeth?" or "My what blood spattered face you have?" or my personal favorite, "Is that pubic hair stuck in your teeth Grandma?"
Finally the worst part of it all is LRRH doesn't get eaten either. Instead she runs out with the Wolf following her and low and behold there is the Woodcutter to save the day and kill the Wolf. Then Grandma and LRRH share the picnic that LRRH was bringing her.
So there you have it. It is not like my parents protected me from the violence of the story. I read many violent stories when I was young, played violent games, and watched violent cartoons (I am really desensitized to violence at this point in my life). I even remember my first rated "R" movie was Diehard. I know there are worse but Diehard has to rank up there as a worst overall rated "R" movie to see first due to violence, blood, and language. Yippee Kiya Mother Fucker. (I am not saying Diehard is a bad movie, on the contrary I think it is great, I am saying as a first rated "R" movie it pretty much contains everything but nudity and sex).
Here are some other versions that I heard in class. Grandma gets eaten but not LRRH. Grandma doesn't get eaten. Grandma gets eaten and they kill the Wolf. They both get eaten but the Wolf gets killed anyways. They kill the wolf after both have been eaten and then fill his stomach up with stones? (SC you read some pretty weird versions, but not the weirdest). And my all time favorite version...They both get eaten but the Woodcutter kills the Wolf then cuts open his stomach and Grandma and LRRH are in there alive and kicking. They then fill up the stomach of the Wolf with stones, sew him back together and I think either throw him into a river or keep him as a statue. Can't remember.
So there you have it. Don't even get me started on the moral of the story. My professor started spouting off about how it was really meant to be about incest and pedophile. I lost interest and didn't understand him at that point, so can't give an accurate account of that.
3 DAYS AND I WILL BE HOME
Unless this happens (yes I have to pass through London).
So my version of LRRH: First off LRRH doesn't listen to the lumbejack's ("woodcutter") warning not to take that route to the house. This is important for two reasons. 1. It means that she ignores the woodcutter and does it anyways. 2. It means she doesn't talk to the Wolf in the beginning but the Wolf overhears LRRH and Woodcutter's conversation.
Next in my Disney GGGG+ rating version the damn Wolf doesn't eat the Grandma but puts her in a closet or something. If he ate Grandma then wouldn't LRRH have been asking such things as, "My what large bones you have stuck in your teeth?" or "My what blood spattered face you have?" or my personal favorite, "Is that pubic hair stuck in your teeth Grandma?"
Finally the worst part of it all is LRRH doesn't get eaten either. Instead she runs out with the Wolf following her and low and behold there is the Woodcutter to save the day and kill the Wolf. Then Grandma and LRRH share the picnic that LRRH was bringing her.
So there you have it. It is not like my parents protected me from the violence of the story. I read many violent stories when I was young, played violent games, and watched violent cartoons (I am really desensitized to violence at this point in my life). I even remember my first rated "R" movie was Diehard. I know there are worse but Diehard has to rank up there as a worst overall rated "R" movie to see first due to violence, blood, and language. Yippee Kiya Mother Fucker. (I am not saying Diehard is a bad movie, on the contrary I think it is great, I am saying as a first rated "R" movie it pretty much contains everything but nudity and sex).
Here are some other versions that I heard in class. Grandma gets eaten but not LRRH. Grandma doesn't get eaten. Grandma gets eaten and they kill the Wolf. They both get eaten but the Wolf gets killed anyways. They kill the wolf after both have been eaten and then fill his stomach up with stones? (SC you read some pretty weird versions, but not the weirdest). And my all time favorite version...They both get eaten but the Woodcutter kills the Wolf then cuts open his stomach and Grandma and LRRH are in there alive and kicking. They then fill up the stomach of the Wolf with stones, sew him back together and I think either throw him into a river or keep him as a statue. Can't remember.
So there you have it. Don't even get me started on the moral of the story. My professor started spouting off about how it was really meant to be about incest and pedophile. I lost interest and didn't understand him at that point, so can't give an accurate account of that.
3 DAYS AND I WILL BE HOME
Unless this happens (yes I have to pass through London).
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I spent 2 hours in class that I am receiving law school credit for talking about Little Red Riding Hood
First a rant: As you have probably seen over the past months I am a hateful person. Actually I just use the word liberally in the sense not as strong a definition as some people attach it. So to add to the list of things I "hate": Americans in Paris.
Americans in Paris are easy to find. They are loud. This isn't a stereotype they are always loud. (I don't count anymore, I am officially off the list this time because I am travelling alone and have specifically not met any Americans here, other then when my aunt visited, but she actually lives in Martinique, which is French.) They are not only loud but also rude and disrespectful. Before I explain I want to clarify that I don't expect someone to conform to the culture of the country they are in, in fact I refuse to do that, but I do expect them to respect it.
The best example of this is on the Metro. Americans can always be found on the Metro by voice alone. It is incredible. The Metro in France is a 10 minute period of time for the French to escape the busy life in Paris and get lost in their books. It is nearly impossible to do this when a group of (usually young but not always) Americans are yelling about who threw-up where, who ended up in bed with who, or who passed out in the gutter last night.
The All-Time Example though was a few years ago at Versailles (the palace the Sun God Louis XIV built, sorry if you learned something). I was showing a few friends around when a group of Texans were heard from yards away. The gardens at Versailles are vast, so the fact that the Texans had Walkie-Talkies was not surprising, what was surprising was when they YELLED into them, even with people standing right by them. The best quote from their shout fests, "I can't hear Ye!" Yes he said "ye". Who the hell uses "Ye" anymore?
I can't believe I am getting law school credits for talking about Little Red Riding Hood
In other news today in class I spent two hours learning different versions of Little Red Riding Hood. I will go into more details later, but want to pose a few question to the 5 people that read my blog. In the version you remember from your childhood....
Is it a hunter or a lumberjack that makes an appearance?
Does the grandmother get eaten?
Does Little Red Riding Hood get eaten?
How does the very end happen?
Americans in Paris are easy to find. They are loud. This isn't a stereotype they are always loud. (I don't count anymore, I am officially off the list this time because I am travelling alone and have specifically not met any Americans here, other then when my aunt visited, but she actually lives in Martinique, which is French.) They are not only loud but also rude and disrespectful. Before I explain I want to clarify that I don't expect someone to conform to the culture of the country they are in, in fact I refuse to do that, but I do expect them to respect it.
The best example of this is on the Metro. Americans can always be found on the Metro by voice alone. It is incredible. The Metro in France is a 10 minute period of time for the French to escape the busy life in Paris and get lost in their books. It is nearly impossible to do this when a group of (usually young but not always) Americans are yelling about who threw-up where, who ended up in bed with who, or who passed out in the gutter last night.
The All-Time Example though was a few years ago at Versailles (the palace the Sun God Louis XIV built, sorry if you learned something). I was showing a few friends around when a group of Texans were heard from yards away. The gardens at Versailles are vast, so the fact that the Texans had Walkie-Talkies was not surprising, what was surprising was when they YELLED into them, even with people standing right by them. The best quote from their shout fests, "I can't hear Ye!" Yes he said "ye". Who the hell uses "Ye" anymore?
I can't believe I am getting law school credits for talking about Little Red Riding Hood
In other news today in class I spent two hours learning different versions of Little Red Riding Hood. I will go into more details later, but want to pose a few question to the 5 people that read my blog. In the version you remember from your childhood....
Is it a hunter or a lumberjack that makes an appearance?
Does the grandmother get eaten?
Does Little Red Riding Hood get eaten?
How does the very end happen?
Sunday, December 17, 2006
It's official I am Time magazine's Man of the Year
The cat is out of the bag, we all knew it would happen sooner or later, I am officialy Time Magazine's Person of the Year. I get to join the ranks of Hitler (1938), Miss Wallis Warfield Simpson (1936), the Hungarian Freedom Fighter (1956), and Twenty-five and Under (1966).
In accepting this award it means I must return to the US, which I will be doing in 8 days, or on Christmas. Hell the BBC even thought about interviewing me about this. I was stopped on the street yesterday by a reporter who asked if I spoke English (this was great because he thought I was French). He said he was from the BBC doing interviews (he had all of the official equipment, etc and looked quite funny standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk). I said that I could speak a little. He then asked where I was from and after telling him he said he needed French people.
X-Mas Presents
So my family plays a game each year at Christmas, a game that I love. My mom's side of the family gather and instead of buying presents for everyone we each buy one "good gift" and one "bad gift". We then get in a big circle with the presents wrapped in the middle. The oldest person goes first and chooses a present and unwraps it. We then draw a name to see who goes next. That person can then either choose a gift out of the middle and unwrap it, or he can take the a previously unwrapped present and give the person he took it from a present out of the middle. This continues until everyone has gone once and then the oldest person who started gets to decide if she (my grandma) wants to keep the present she has at that time or switch it with someone elses. It is good fun. We play it twice, once with good gifts or gifts that have some utility to them to everyone, and once with bad gifts, or really funny ones. And we can only spend a combined total of $20 on both gifts.
In past years these have been the bad gifts that I have put into the middle:
Fox Urine (apparently hunters use it or something)
A 70's Marching Band Uniform (in a really horrible off-red color)
A photo of me (ha Arbusto you aren't the only one who makes fun of me, I also make fun of me....oh wait that isn't a good thing)
So this year I think I am going to give a gift certificate that is good for 1 diamond. Yep an actual diamond. The catch is to claim it they must go to Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas and dig for it themselves. Expenses not paid.
Going Crazy
Well I have been crazy for some years, but it is just getting worse of late. Two days ago I had an, "Oh Shit" moment when I realized in May I need to find a job and have no prospects at the moment. So what did I do? Looked at other schools of course. I am not wanting to be a professional student but the Tuft's Fletcher School's Master in Law and Diplomacy looks extremely interesting. Plus you can't go wrong with its location. The only drawback is I would have to rush an application becaue they are do January 15. That means do the application, write the essays, get recommendations, and take the GRE all in a 20 day time span. Then there is that whole "money" aspect. Both of how will I pay for it and I want to start earning money.
In accepting this award it means I must return to the US, which I will be doing in 8 days, or on Christmas. Hell the BBC even thought about interviewing me about this. I was stopped on the street yesterday by a reporter who asked if I spoke English (this was great because he thought I was French). He said he was from the BBC doing interviews (he had all of the official equipment, etc and looked quite funny standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk). I said that I could speak a little. He then asked where I was from and after telling him he said he needed French people.
X-Mas Presents
So my family plays a game each year at Christmas, a game that I love. My mom's side of the family gather and instead of buying presents for everyone we each buy one "good gift" and one "bad gift". We then get in a big circle with the presents wrapped in the middle. The oldest person goes first and chooses a present and unwraps it. We then draw a name to see who goes next. That person can then either choose a gift out of the middle and unwrap it, or he can take the a previously unwrapped present and give the person he took it from a present out of the middle. This continues until everyone has gone once and then the oldest person who started gets to decide if she (my grandma) wants to keep the present she has at that time or switch it with someone elses. It is good fun. We play it twice, once with good gifts or gifts that have some utility to them to everyone, and once with bad gifts, or really funny ones. And we can only spend a combined total of $20 on both gifts.
In past years these have been the bad gifts that I have put into the middle:
Fox Urine (apparently hunters use it or something)
A 70's Marching Band Uniform (in a really horrible off-red color)
A photo of me (ha Arbusto you aren't the only one who makes fun of me, I also make fun of me....oh wait that isn't a good thing)
So this year I think I am going to give a gift certificate that is good for 1 diamond. Yep an actual diamond. The catch is to claim it they must go to Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas and dig for it themselves. Expenses not paid.
Going Crazy
Well I have been crazy for some years, but it is just getting worse of late. Two days ago I had an, "Oh Shit" moment when I realized in May I need to find a job and have no prospects at the moment. So what did I do? Looked at other schools of course. I am not wanting to be a professional student but the Tuft's Fletcher School's Master in Law and Diplomacy looks extremely interesting. Plus you can't go wrong with its location. The only drawback is I would have to rush an application becaue they are do January 15. That means do the application, write the essays, get recommendations, and take the GRE all in a 20 day time span. Then there is that whole "money" aspect. Both of how will I pay for it and I want to start earning money.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Caramel Vodka and Vibrators
So last night I drank. I drank too much. I threw up this morning, not exactly sure how I got home because part of the night I can't remember, and instead of drunk dialing a girl, I drunk emailed. The email was hysterical, and I would post it but it is in French so not too many would understand it. Thankfully I put in the wrong address and it didn't get sent. I have no recolection of typing the email and when I saw the returned email in my inbox I started to wonder what else I did that I can't remember. Still speaking of things I can't remember, I am not sure how I got back to my place. I know I started on the Metro, got off because I had to pee, took a cab, then it gets fuzzy. I have some fuzzy vague memory of the cab driver not letting me off at the right address, but somehow I walked home. I am just glad I got home.
Things I do remember:
Drinking two bottles of wine (two people)
Drinking a half a bottle of vodka (just me) the others finished the bottle
Ordering a vibrator online, okay my friend did I obviously didn't.
So the vibrator story...Reunion out of the blue asked me if Americans use sex toys because apparently in France it is still a little taboo. I said sure Americans used sex toys. I then decided to show her Bostonian Sexperts blog. Bostonian works at a sex shop and always has great recommendations and advice. So Reunion, who was already a little drunk, bought a 43 Euro vibrator in front of me. Yes this is my life. No sex, no girls, but girls willing to buy expensive vibrators in front of me.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Curly Canadian texted me today. I was sick of hanging out with her and decided that I needed to find out if I was going to get anything out of hanging out with her because I couldn't stand her personality. So I turned to my twin George Costanza. I decided to do the opposite of what I would normally do. She had texted me with "What are you up to? Want a hang out?" I responded, "I'm free for sex otherwise I am with a friend." Her response, "Huh??" My reply, "I am always up for sex, but am with a friend right now so I can't hang out." She ended then with, "I am not interested in you sexually."
Although the ending was not what happened to George who slept with the woman and got a job working for the Yankees, it is a big relief for me because now I don't have to hang out with her anymore.
LINE OF THE DAY
Reunion: "Why is it that weird things happen to you?" (Ladies and gentlemen welcome to my life, where the normal takes a backseat to the weird and unusual)
Things I do remember:
Drinking two bottles of wine (two people)
Drinking a half a bottle of vodka (just me) the others finished the bottle
Ordering a vibrator online, okay my friend did I obviously didn't.
So the vibrator story...Reunion out of the blue asked me if Americans use sex toys because apparently in France it is still a little taboo. I said sure Americans used sex toys. I then decided to show her Bostonian Sexperts blog. Bostonian works at a sex shop and always has great recommendations and advice. So Reunion, who was already a little drunk, bought a 43 Euro vibrator in front of me. Yes this is my life. No sex, no girls, but girls willing to buy expensive vibrators in front of me.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Curly Canadian texted me today. I was sick of hanging out with her and decided that I needed to find out if I was going to get anything out of hanging out with her because I couldn't stand her personality. So I turned to my twin George Costanza. I decided to do the opposite of what I would normally do. She had texted me with "What are you up to? Want a hang out?" I responded, "I'm free for sex otherwise I am with a friend." Her response, "Huh??" My reply, "I am always up for sex, but am with a friend right now so I can't hang out." She ended then with, "I am not interested in you sexually."
Although the ending was not what happened to George who slept with the woman and got a job working for the Yankees, it is a big relief for me because now I don't have to hang out with her anymore.
LINE OF THE DAY
Reunion: "Why is it that weird things happen to you?" (Ladies and gentlemen welcome to my life, where the normal takes a backseat to the weird and unusual)
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Because Arbusto is boring
I switched to a normal template because Arbusto is boring and can't stand looking at colors. Maybe he wouldn't have so many headaches looking at colors if he would go outside some of the time in natural day light rather than staying inside playing his Wii all day or Warcraft. /suck it
Friday, December 08, 2006
Is This Better?
Recent I changed the color scheme of my blog. I like Black and Gold/Yellow because they were my high school colors(Go RAMS), my college colors (Go Oles), and the colors of my favorite college/university team (Go Hawkeyes). But some people (don't worry I won't name names Arbusto and Mona) complained about it. Normally I would be a curmudgeon and not change, but instead I was in the Holiday spirit. So tell me what you think? Not as bright, but kept the same colors.
Rant of the Day:
Bretagne (little peninsula thing that sticks out into the Atlantic when you envision France, if you can) is known for wind and rain. Lots of wind and rain. So 3 years ago when I was studying there, I bought an umbrella of which I had high expectations. They were met. Until now that is. See for three years the thing would not budge in the wind. I used it in 40-50 m.p.h. winds and the thing would not reverse, bend, breakt, etc. Now, I am studying in Paris and recently they have had a few "tompetes" (I think that is how you spell it), which basically means lots of rain and even more wind. Think of a tropical storm/depression just not as much rain and not tropical whatsoever. Anyways my damn umbrella the other day was so strong that instead of flipping inside out like every other umbrella does in 45mph winds, it actually bent the main rod. My umbrella nearly broke in half and would have taken off like Mary Poppins on crack. Instead I was able to semi-salvage it and bend it back.
Flash forward to today. I am walking around and the damn thing flips inside out. The first fucking time it has done that in 3 years and it got even more bent. My umbrella is now more crooked than a Republican Congress.
So let's recap Furry's time in France (since it is almost over):
Lost luggage
Shat on by a bird (one of my few shirts when I had nothing, see above, and it was black)
Coming an entire month early because of my stupid French prof telling me the wrong date
Having no internship, which was promised to me, until my American prof found one for me 2 1/2 months later
Not getting laid (see previous posts from this month and Nov.)
All in all a typical 4 months for the Furry
GOOD NEWS FOR A CHANGE:
My bro (well more like his wife) had his baby the other day. It was by C-section, and I think everything is okay. My bro was too tired to give me specific details because he has been up for 50 hours straight before the birth. The new baby is named Gabriel. I have decided to call him Lil' Herky. My brother likes that nickname and hopefully it will make him a Hawkeye fan since he lives in that horrible state called Florida and his mom is a Gator alumnae.
DRINK RECAP FROM THURSDAY NIGHT
One of my friends had a birthday party at her place... I went, and drank even though I had work the next day at the law office. Suprisingly no hangover.
1 Kir
2 Beer/tequillas (something that I had never seen in a bottle before)
5 Martini Cokes (I know martini and coke doesn't sound good together, I didn't think so either, but it is really good)
3 Glasses of red wine
All done between 8-12
Saturday night should be fun, one of my friends promised me she was going to get me completely drunk. I don't think that is possible since I really haven't been yet, but we shall see. Possible scenarios if you don't see a post on Sunday:
Dead from alcohol poisoning
Lost in Paris and sleeping on a sidewalk
Still trying to get drunk
Joined a gang of illegal Romanian immigrents and are planning on taking over the Slovakian embassy
Sleeping with the girl who is taken me out (best option, least likely because after all it's me, Furry)
Rant of the Day:
Bretagne (little peninsula thing that sticks out into the Atlantic when you envision France, if you can) is known for wind and rain. Lots of wind and rain. So 3 years ago when I was studying there, I bought an umbrella of which I had high expectations. They were met. Until now that is. See for three years the thing would not budge in the wind. I used it in 40-50 m.p.h. winds and the thing would not reverse, bend, breakt, etc. Now, I am studying in Paris and recently they have had a few "tompetes" (I think that is how you spell it), which basically means lots of rain and even more wind. Think of a tropical storm/depression just not as much rain and not tropical whatsoever. Anyways my damn umbrella the other day was so strong that instead of flipping inside out like every other umbrella does in 45mph winds, it actually bent the main rod. My umbrella nearly broke in half and would have taken off like Mary Poppins on crack. Instead I was able to semi-salvage it and bend it back.
Flash forward to today. I am walking around and the damn thing flips inside out. The first fucking time it has done that in 3 years and it got even more bent. My umbrella is now more crooked than a Republican Congress.
So let's recap Furry's time in France (since it is almost over):
Lost luggage
Shat on by a bird (one of my few shirts when I had nothing, see above, and it was black)
Coming an entire month early because of my stupid French prof telling me the wrong date
Having no internship, which was promised to me, until my American prof found one for me 2 1/2 months later
Not getting laid (see previous posts from this month and Nov.)
All in all a typical 4 months for the Furry
GOOD NEWS FOR A CHANGE:
My bro (well more like his wife) had his baby the other day. It was by C-section, and I think everything is okay. My bro was too tired to give me specific details because he has been up for 50 hours straight before the birth. The new baby is named Gabriel. I have decided to call him Lil' Herky. My brother likes that nickname and hopefully it will make him a Hawkeye fan since he lives in that horrible state called Florida and his mom is a Gator alumnae.
DRINK RECAP FROM THURSDAY NIGHT
One of my friends had a birthday party at her place... I went, and drank even though I had work the next day at the law office. Suprisingly no hangover.
1 Kir
2 Beer/tequillas (something that I had never seen in a bottle before)
5 Martini Cokes (I know martini and coke doesn't sound good together, I didn't think so either, but it is really good)
3 Glasses of red wine
All done between 8-12
Saturday night should be fun, one of my friends promised me she was going to get me completely drunk. I don't think that is possible since I really haven't been yet, but we shall see. Possible scenarios if you don't see a post on Sunday:
Dead from alcohol poisoning
Lost in Paris and sleeping on a sidewalk
Still trying to get drunk
Joined a gang of illegal Romanian immigrents and are planning on taking over the Slovakian embassy
Sleeping with the girl who is taken me out (best option, least likely because after all it's me, Furry)
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Ode to Mediation
So today in class I was extremely bored. I am not really even sure what the prof was talking about because he was so ungodly boring. So I spent 4 hours out of 8 creating an 'Ode to Mediation'. Yes, yes I know technically it is a sonnet, but ode sounds so much better. I was even so bored that I rewrote it in the nicest cursive handwriting that I can do. (That took awhile since my handwriting is extremely bad). Anyways without further ado, here it is:
Ode to Mediation
There exists a conflict between parties
They think that no solution can be found
They pay an attorney hourly fees
What will they do? To the court they are bound
The judge sees them fighting like two children
A severe lack of communication
The judge suggests ADR with a grin
The parties decide on mediation
Each party describes their own perspective
After understanding the other side
They brainstorm ideas that are corrective
Voila, an agreement both to abide
A solution where both parties have won
And now the mediator's work is done
So I know it isn't all that good but it is all I could come up with in the time, while pretending to listen to the prof and making faces across the room to other bored classmates. Bonus points for anyone who knows what seperates this sonnet out from others.
They think that no solution can be found
They pay an attorney hourly fees
What will they do? To the court they are bound
The judge sees them fighting like two children
A severe lack of communication
The judge suggests ADR with a grin
The parties decide on mediation
Each party describes their own perspective
After understanding the other side
They brainstorm ideas that are corrective
Voila, an agreement both to abide
A solution where both parties have won
And now the mediator's work is done
So I know it isn't all that good but it is all I could come up with in the time, while pretending to listen to the prof and making faces across the room to other bored classmates. Bonus points for anyone who knows what seperates this sonnet out from others.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
So a priest, a cop, and mediation students walked into a bar...
No the title isn't the start of a joke; rather something that happened to me on Saturday. I had class on Saturday from 10-5..yes it sucks, and it means we have to go out to eat during the hour the profs give us. So our prof had made reservations for a restaurant near the Catholic University where are classes are at. At noon 8 other students and I, go to the restaurant (w/o the prof) and see a table set up for 9, perfect, he made the reservation. We go sit down, are about ready to order, when a group of Catholic priests from the University come in and say that the table is in fact theirs.
They said someone had made a reservation for them and that we should let them have it because they only had an hour to eat. We said we only had an hour, but we would find another table and began to get up to let them sit down. At that point the server intervened and said that we were to say and the Priests would have to wait. Apparently they didn't like this and the CATHOLIC PRIESTS tried to call the police because they didn't have a table at the restaurant. It was yet another Costanza moment in my life. Catholic priests calling the police becuase of a mix-up in reservations at a bar/restaurant that is decent at best.
Curly Canadian (CC) news:
So the Canadian came calling again and of course I went out with her. CC and I went to a movie on two different nights and one night to 3 different bars. At the movies she always has her arms crossed and seems really closed off, she drink a lot, leaves early, and still drops names like how she partied with Leonardo DiCaprio or Clive Owen. I was going to go in for a kiss but after each night out she quickly does the half ass bisou before we leave, leaving me with no chance. Yet I still keep going out with her. Plus each time it is her calling me asking me to go out with her. I don't know what I am going to do when she calls this week. We will see...
MSC.
So the other day in class I had Mr. Monopoly teaching. He looked exactly like the Monopoly guy only without the top hat and monocle. It was incredible. I really wanted him to either say, "don't pass go, don't collect $200," or pull out a sac of money.
Worst line to end a movie:
Black Dahlia: "Please come inside." (yes they were going for the double entendre)
They said someone had made a reservation for them and that we should let them have it because they only had an hour to eat. We said we only had an hour, but we would find another table and began to get up to let them sit down. At that point the server intervened and said that we were to say and the Priests would have to wait. Apparently they didn't like this and the CATHOLIC PRIESTS tried to call the police because they didn't have a table at the restaurant. It was yet another Costanza moment in my life. Catholic priests calling the police becuase of a mix-up in reservations at a bar/restaurant that is decent at best.
Curly Canadian (CC) news:
So the Canadian came calling again and of course I went out with her. CC and I went to a movie on two different nights and one night to 3 different bars. At the movies she always has her arms crossed and seems really closed off, she drink a lot, leaves early, and still drops names like how she partied with Leonardo DiCaprio or Clive Owen. I was going to go in for a kiss but after each night out she quickly does the half ass bisou before we leave, leaving me with no chance. Yet I still keep going out with her. Plus each time it is her calling me asking me to go out with her. I don't know what I am going to do when she calls this week. We will see...
MSC.
So the other day in class I had Mr. Monopoly teaching. He looked exactly like the Monopoly guy only without the top hat and monocle. It was incredible. I really wanted him to either say, "don't pass go, don't collect $200," or pull out a sac of money.
Worst line to end a movie:
Black Dahlia: "Please come inside." (yes they were going for the double entendre)
Monday, November 27, 2006
More bad luck when Furry went on a date last Saturday
So a few weeks back I had tickets to the Masters Parisbas Tournament (tennis). I had an extra ticket and went to CL to find someone to go with me. A Canadian responded and she sounded decent so we went. Now this was an all day event and she actually stayed for the entire day. She is petite with really dark curly hair and fairly average looking but with impecable (sp?) skin.
During the tournament we got to know each other and I found out she was extremely high maintenance. Not only that but she was a blatant name dropper of people she knew (Jerry Brockheimer, Jason Statham, Eric Lindros, etc), and kept going on about ALL of her friends in Paris, who of course had money. Needless to say not really my type.
At the end of the day, I thought that would be that even though she suggested we should get together for drinks some night. Three weeks later (last week) she calls me. She suggests we go see a movie and go to a bar, there is a Canadian bar she wanted to try. Now even though she was not my type, she was decent looking and I am a little lonely and desperate at this point in my life (to be blunt about it). So of course I agreed to a movie and drinks Saturday night (last Saturday).
Saturday comes and we decide to see Borat, which was pretty funny. Afterwards we walk to the bar, a nice added touch to walk at night in the streets of Paris, and have a pretty nice conversation along the way, mainly about cartoons as we were growing up. We arrive at the bar and order a beer. The bar itself was pretty crappy, but I was content because I could sneak peeks at the FSU/Florida football game and she could glance at the rugby match. The only odd part was the fact she kept mentioning one "friend" who of course was a guy and the things they did together.
Now maybe it is just me, but when you are out with a guy that you asked to go out with you, do you normally talk about other guys that you hang out with? It was kind of awkward, but I kind of brushed it off. Anyways it is 9PM and we finish our first beer, she gets a text message from another friend who is living with her. Her friend arrived early and has no key to get into the apartment; she has to leave. So the night ends after one beer at 9pm. No kiss, no hug, just the typical French bisou. She suggested a longer night with more drinking next time, apologizing she had to leave early, but I don't know. I will probably wait to see if she calls rather than calling her.
Random notes:
My host has her boyfriend over. He is 60 or so, balding, and very very skinny. My host is 45 and still somewhat attractive. He is a "poet". When he reads his poetry it is like he injected himself with crack. He doesn't know how to open the front door (no joke). When they have sex it is very loud but only lasts 10 minutes. I hope I don't have to hear old sex again tonight.
During the tournament we got to know each other and I found out she was extremely high maintenance. Not only that but she was a blatant name dropper of people she knew (Jerry Brockheimer, Jason Statham, Eric Lindros, etc), and kept going on about ALL of her friends in Paris, who of course had money. Needless to say not really my type.
At the end of the day, I thought that would be that even though she suggested we should get together for drinks some night. Three weeks later (last week) she calls me. She suggests we go see a movie and go to a bar, there is a Canadian bar she wanted to try. Now even though she was not my type, she was decent looking and I am a little lonely and desperate at this point in my life (to be blunt about it). So of course I agreed to a movie and drinks Saturday night (last Saturday).
Saturday comes and we decide to see Borat, which was pretty funny. Afterwards we walk to the bar, a nice added touch to walk at night in the streets of Paris, and have a pretty nice conversation along the way, mainly about cartoons as we were growing up. We arrive at the bar and order a beer. The bar itself was pretty crappy, but I was content because I could sneak peeks at the FSU/Florida football game and she could glance at the rugby match. The only odd part was the fact she kept mentioning one "friend" who of course was a guy and the things they did together.
Now maybe it is just me, but when you are out with a guy that you asked to go out with you, do you normally talk about other guys that you hang out with? It was kind of awkward, but I kind of brushed it off. Anyways it is 9PM and we finish our first beer, she gets a text message from another friend who is living with her. Her friend arrived early and has no key to get into the apartment; she has to leave. So the night ends after one beer at 9pm. No kiss, no hug, just the typical French bisou. She suggested a longer night with more drinking next time, apologizing she had to leave early, but I don't know. I will probably wait to see if she calls rather than calling her.
Random notes:
My host has her boyfriend over. He is 60 or so, balding, and very very skinny. My host is 45 and still somewhat attractive. He is a "poet". When he reads his poetry it is like he injected himself with crack. He doesn't know how to open the front door (no joke). When they have sex it is very loud but only lasts 10 minutes. I hope I don't have to hear old sex again tonight.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Table for 1
I am pretty sure that is what I will be asking for my entire life, "table for 1." I am quite possibly the most pathetic man when it comes to women. I am so sick of making a fool out of myself I think I will just give up, bury myself in work, and shower my nephews and niece with gifts.
Every girl that hears my probles says she is going to help me. That is exactly the problem. Instead of thinking of going out with me, they would rather find some other poor sucker to do it. God forbid I have a girl that wants to go out with me, finds me attractive and/or is somewhat normal.
I just give up. I should have been a monk so then I wouldn't have to explain to everyone why I am so pathetic. Every girl says it doesn't make sense why I am alone, well if it fucking doesn't make sense why aren't you asking me out, kissing me, or fucking me, instead of saying it doesn't make sense. 3 years without a kiss is beyond pathetic.
As most of my friends that are girls say, "I am too nice." I have no fucking clue what that means, but I do know this, if that means I have to be less nice or change to find a girl; fuck it. I would rather be nice and completely single, than an ass and with someone.
Sorry for the downer of a post everone.
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the States, all the expats, students abroad, or soldiers serving their country.
Every girl that hears my probles says she is going to help me. That is exactly the problem. Instead of thinking of going out with me, they would rather find some other poor sucker to do it. God forbid I have a girl that wants to go out with me, finds me attractive and/or is somewhat normal.
I just give up. I should have been a monk so then I wouldn't have to explain to everyone why I am so pathetic. Every girl says it doesn't make sense why I am alone, well if it fucking doesn't make sense why aren't you asking me out, kissing me, or fucking me, instead of saying it doesn't make sense. 3 years without a kiss is beyond pathetic.
As most of my friends that are girls say, "I am too nice." I have no fucking clue what that means, but I do know this, if that means I have to be less nice or change to find a girl; fuck it. I would rather be nice and completely single, than an ass and with someone.
Sorry for the downer of a post everone.
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the States, all the expats, students abroad, or soldiers serving their country.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
It's not even Thursday yet....
First off on a topic unrelated to the following post, the cat I am living with snores. It is not small whimpers like some dogs do but full-blown snores. I really never knew that cats snored, and I am not sure how I feel about it, but it is kind of distracting when I am trying to sleep.
Moving on....
I will give nicknames to girls to make this story easier.
First off there will be Reunion
Reunion--she is from La Reunion, which is a small island inbetween Madagascar and S. Africa, and also a part of France. She is the 22 year old I have been meantioning who is dating the 35 y/o and one who I hang out with a lot. She also speaks English pretty well. Reunion is also very attractive in the tropical kind of way and is very petite.
A: A is from Bretagne, which is where I spent a previous semester studying in France. She is pretty damn hot and extremely quirky. I like girls who are quirky, they do small things that are completely odd for no reason. She has also studied in Quebec and teaches me Quebecois swear words
S: S is another girl in my classes who is from Morocco. She is extremely hot with the whole sexy N. African/ Middle Eastern tan and huge eyes. Think kind of like Jasmine in Aladdin. She has long curly hair and some pretty large breasts. She also has a boyfriend of 5 years, but who lives in Morocco.
Now to the story.....
In class I was finalizing plans of Thanksgiving dinner with Reunion. Reunion, her boyfriend, A, a friend (girl) of A, and S will all be there. I then asked Reunion if she had any news about A and the guy she was kind of "seeing". Here is the conversation that insued (not translated since the conversation was in English):
Reunion: She is going to stop seeing him for a month or more. She wasn't that into him but always needs to be with someone.
Me: Perfect I am here for one more month. I should hook-up with her.
Reunion: It's so cute you have principles. I think you should hook-up with her even if she was still seeing him.
Me: I am not going to do that, I have been on the other end of that. That is why I won't make a move on S.
Reunion: I still think you should fuck her, she is probably lonely since she hasn't seen her boyfriend in awhile.
Me: As much as I would like to I am not sure I could, knowing about her boyfriend.
Reunion: It would make me happy if you fucked her.
Me: (pause, not sure how to follow that up)
Reunion: For that matter you should fuck A too. You should fuck them both that would make me comfortable.
Me: How does me fucking A make you "comfortable"?
Reunion: Well I meant happy, the only way I would be comfortable was if I joined you two.
Me: (At this point I really had no idea what to say and was clearly showing my innocence by even blushing a bit)
Reunion: (unconvincingly saying) Oh I was just joking....hope you don't get an erection in class that would be embarassing.
Later on in class I made a joke to Reunion as someone seemingly said somethinig completely random, so in return I turned to her and said a completely random word. She then turns to me and says, "blowjob."
This was without alcohol in our systems. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring when there will be lots of alcohol consumed, but Reunion has said she is going to try and hook me up with either A or S or both.
Moving on....
I will give nicknames to girls to make this story easier.
First off there will be Reunion
Reunion--she is from La Reunion, which is a small island inbetween Madagascar and S. Africa, and also a part of France. She is the 22 year old I have been meantioning who is dating the 35 y/o and one who I hang out with a lot. She also speaks English pretty well. Reunion is also very attractive in the tropical kind of way and is very petite.
A: A is from Bretagne, which is where I spent a previous semester studying in France. She is pretty damn hot and extremely quirky. I like girls who are quirky, they do small things that are completely odd for no reason. She has also studied in Quebec and teaches me Quebecois swear words
S: S is another girl in my classes who is from Morocco. She is extremely hot with the whole sexy N. African/ Middle Eastern tan and huge eyes. Think kind of like Jasmine in Aladdin. She has long curly hair and some pretty large breasts. She also has a boyfriend of 5 years, but who lives in Morocco.
Now to the story.....
In class I was finalizing plans of Thanksgiving dinner with Reunion. Reunion, her boyfriend, A, a friend (girl) of A, and S will all be there. I then asked Reunion if she had any news about A and the guy she was kind of "seeing". Here is the conversation that insued (not translated since the conversation was in English):
Reunion: She is going to stop seeing him for a month or more. She wasn't that into him but always needs to be with someone.
Me: Perfect I am here for one more month. I should hook-up with her.
Reunion: It's so cute you have principles. I think you should hook-up with her even if she was still seeing him.
Me: I am not going to do that, I have been on the other end of that. That is why I won't make a move on S.
Reunion: I still think you should fuck her, she is probably lonely since she hasn't seen her boyfriend in awhile.
Me: As much as I would like to I am not sure I could, knowing about her boyfriend.
Reunion: It would make me happy if you fucked her.
Me: (pause, not sure how to follow that up)
Reunion: For that matter you should fuck A too. You should fuck them both that would make me comfortable.
Me: How does me fucking A make you "comfortable"?
Reunion: Well I meant happy, the only way I would be comfortable was if I joined you two.
Me: (At this point I really had no idea what to say and was clearly showing my innocence by even blushing a bit)
Reunion: (unconvincingly saying) Oh I was just joking....hope you don't get an erection in class that would be embarassing.
Later on in class I made a joke to Reunion as someone seemingly said somethinig completely random, so in return I turned to her and said a completely random word. She then turns to me and says, "blowjob."
This was without alcohol in our systems. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring when there will be lots of alcohol consumed, but Reunion has said she is going to try and hook me up with either A or S or both.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Random Rants
Today I witnessed a fight at a Metro stop. Two guys were really going at it with fists flying, then one fell to the ground and the other started kicking him. When I thought someone was gonig to intervene he actually aided the fight by holding the guy who was kicking the guy on the ground so that the guy on the ground could get up and continute fighting. There was at least 20 or so people watching and no one doing anything. I had thought about intervening but then two others joined the fight including one with a shovel who was swinging it at the head of another guy. At this time it was 3 on 1. When I left it ended up being 4-2. Ahh the Holiday Season, always filled with joy.
I have been reading a lot of different blogs of people being down/depressed/in a funk. Although I am sure some of this is due to seasonal depression, I would just like to add that I am the King of Funks. It has been 3 years since I kissed someone...before that it was 21 years. (Side note: When I say kiss it is not a euphamism I really mean kiss. This is not meaning make-out either I am including all forms of kissing with the exception of family and the french bisou.) I think you get the hint. And now I hang out with girls who talk nothing but sex with me. I feel like one of the musical/movie/comedy guests on Lovelive that has no idea what the hell he is saying, instead having Dr. Drew correct everything.
Thanksgiving is obviously coming up. The French only import whole turkeys at Christmas, have no idea what stuffing is, and sure has hell have never had pumpkin pie. If anyone wants to send me either pumpkin pie or homemade chex mix feel free. Okay Chex Mix must be homemade with extra garlic salt and with only original ingrediants in it meaning: wheat chex, corn chex, rice chex, pretzels, and cheerios. Sadly I have the entire recipie memorized by heart. I won't go into my full rant about Chex Mix brand Chex Mix in bags but needless to say in the late 1990's they changed their recipie for the worst, I am sure it was to compete with Gardetto's.
And on that useless bit of info I end my post.
I have been reading a lot of different blogs of people being down/depressed/in a funk. Although I am sure some of this is due to seasonal depression, I would just like to add that I am the King of Funks. It has been 3 years since I kissed someone...before that it was 21 years. (Side note: When I say kiss it is not a euphamism I really mean kiss. This is not meaning make-out either I am including all forms of kissing with the exception of family and the french bisou.) I think you get the hint. And now I hang out with girls who talk nothing but sex with me. I feel like one of the musical/movie/comedy guests on Lovelive that has no idea what the hell he is saying, instead having Dr. Drew correct everything.
Thanksgiving is obviously coming up. The French only import whole turkeys at Christmas, have no idea what stuffing is, and sure has hell have never had pumpkin pie. If anyone wants to send me either pumpkin pie or homemade chex mix feel free. Okay Chex Mix must be homemade with extra garlic salt and with only original ingrediants in it meaning: wheat chex, corn chex, rice chex, pretzels, and cheerios. Sadly I have the entire recipie memorized by heart. I won't go into my full rant about Chex Mix brand Chex Mix in bags but needless to say in the late 1990's they changed their recipie for the worst, I am sure it was to compete with Gardetto's.
And on that useless bit of info I end my post.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Apparently I am the walking dead
I finally went back to the law firm today to work again. It has been a week and a half since I have been there. My lawyer was in Prague then South Beach and finally back in Paris.
I am stuck in the library where the other stagieres (interns) are. This is the first time they acknowledged my prescence even though I had been there three other days with them. After doing the basic greetings and exchanging the different approaches on how to become a lawyer, we started talking about what every Parisien talks about Paris and sex. It is incredible. We were working at a prestigious international law firm and an intern who doesn't even have a job there starts openly talking about sex with me.
They wanted to know if I had seen the TV program where a French, strike that, a Parisien journalist poses two questions that only someone from Paris would ask and of which every person in Paris thinks is normal: Is there really any life outside of Paris in France, and can you live without sex?
Apparently this was an entire hour long program where two lawyers debated these topics. So of course the interns asked me what I thought. I of course told them I preferred Bretagne over Paris (really any French countryside, but Bretagne most of all) and I think we all know the answer to the second question. Oh wait any normal person would know the answer to the second question but this is the Furry we are talking about so I will reassure everyone and I told them that of course there wasn't life without sex. So either I am a ghost or just in hell, but with all the conversations about sex I have had with women here and no action I am going with hell.
I am stuck in the library where the other stagieres (interns) are. This is the first time they acknowledged my prescence even though I had been there three other days with them. After doing the basic greetings and exchanging the different approaches on how to become a lawyer, we started talking about what every Parisien talks about Paris and sex. It is incredible. We were working at a prestigious international law firm and an intern who doesn't even have a job there starts openly talking about sex with me.
They wanted to know if I had seen the TV program where a French, strike that, a Parisien journalist poses two questions that only someone from Paris would ask and of which every person in Paris thinks is normal: Is there really any life outside of Paris in France, and can you live without sex?
Apparently this was an entire hour long program where two lawyers debated these topics. So of course the interns asked me what I thought. I of course told them I preferred Bretagne over Paris (really any French countryside, but Bretagne most of all) and I think we all know the answer to the second question. Oh wait any normal person would know the answer to the second question but this is the Furry we are talking about so I will reassure everyone and I told them that of course there wasn't life without sex. So either I am a ghost or just in hell, but with all the conversations about sex I have had with women here and no action I am going with hell.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
MMM North American Tasty
So I didn't exactly post the entire conversation I had the other night when I went out with my two attractive female classmates.
Two glasses of wine and 2 very strong rhum drinks into the conversation we raised our glasses and said "Tchin Tchin" French equivalent to "cheers". Apparently here in France if you don't look someone in the eyes while doing this you get 7 years of not enjoying sex. (Arbusto insert joke about the Furry here). Anyways that is how we got started talking about sex. Then they started talking about blowjobs, and they asked if I knew cum tasted different depending on what I ate. I said I didn't know from experience but had heard of that. They then wanted to know if North American or cum from the USA tasted different than French cum.
Now for all of you expecting this to lead somewhere...SHAME ON YOU. Have you not read my blog. Do you not know that I am the master of either women leading me on or me just not knowing whatsoever. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George turns down "coffee" in the lady's apartment. That is my life over and over and over again. So no nothing happened. I am just a sad pathetic Furry.
Two glasses of wine and 2 very strong rhum drinks into the conversation we raised our glasses and said "Tchin Tchin" French equivalent to "cheers". Apparently here in France if you don't look someone in the eyes while doing this you get 7 years of not enjoying sex. (Arbusto insert joke about the Furry here). Anyways that is how we got started talking about sex. Then they started talking about blowjobs, and they asked if I knew cum tasted different depending on what I ate. I said I didn't know from experience but had heard of that. They then wanted to know if North American or cum from the USA tasted different than French cum.
Now for all of you expecting this to lead somewhere...SHAME ON YOU. Have you not read my blog. Do you not know that I am the master of either women leading me on or me just not knowing whatsoever. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George turns down "coffee" in the lady's apartment. That is my life over and over and over again. So no nothing happened. I am just a sad pathetic Furry.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Red Peppers and Anal Sex
Yes you read the title right. Tonight I went out with one of the girls I have been hanging out with. We met up with her boyfriend (bummer). After drinking together and getting to know each other a little he told me a story about one of his friends. (This is translated from French). He told me saw his friend smiling one morning, and BF asked the guy why he was smiling. The guy told BF that he had just got done butt fucking a girl. He then went on and when he was done he found out that the girl had eaten red peppers the day before because he found a piece of red pepper on his dick.
I hope no one was eating red peppers while reading that story. What is weird about this relationship between this girl I know and the boyfriend is that she is 22 and he is 35. Yes you read it right. Plus he has a 6 year old. This is a very attractive, smart, and confident 22 year old too. And the guy isn't all that charming and looks more like 45 then 35. Although my parents have 18 years between them not 13 I don't understand this relationship whatsoever.
Well off to bed, I am slightly drunk, tired, and just got done eating some greasy food, is there a better combination?
Oh yeah I am below 100 kilos finally. Which in US terms means I am below 220lbs. When I got here I was over 250lbs. Go me. And have fun eating red peppers.
I hope no one was eating red peppers while reading that story. What is weird about this relationship between this girl I know and the boyfriend is that she is 22 and he is 35. Yes you read it right. Plus he has a 6 year old. This is a very attractive, smart, and confident 22 year old too. And the guy isn't all that charming and looks more like 45 then 35. Although my parents have 18 years between them not 13 I don't understand this relationship whatsoever.
Well off to bed, I am slightly drunk, tired, and just got done eating some greasy food, is there a better combination?
Oh yeah I am below 100 kilos finally. Which in US terms means I am below 220lbs. When I got here I was over 250lbs. Go me. And have fun eating red peppers.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Last Night
Last night I drank quite a bit. It started off when one of my classmates called me over to study at a cafe. I wasn't going to say no to two beautiful ladies asking me to come study with them, so of course I went. I felt like drinking a bit at the cafe, while they started with coffees. I ordered a Kir framboise, which was extraordinarily strong for a Kir. After that one was finished I had another one this time a Kir banane, which was strong again. Finally one of the other girls joined in and she got a drink while I ordered another Kir; this time a Kir poire, which was by far the best of all 3.
We then decided to go to a bar, since we had finished studying. The original bar we went to was completely dead and overpriced so we found another one called "le Rhumarie". It was great and as you might guess filled with rum drinks. I had 2 very very strong rums there as did the two girls. While there they had talked me into skipping a play I had bought tickets to, so that I would instead spend the evening with them. We also got to talking about sex. One of the more funnier moments was when they said I had to experience sex with a French woman, so that I would know more than just the missionary position because American girls were so boring in bed. We talked about oral sex for awhile, then decided we needed something to eat.
We went back to one of their apartments had some dinner, drank a glass of wine and then ended with 2 more Martini Cokes (sounds weird I know but was pretty damn good). Anyways, for all of you hoping that this story leads somewhere....you have to remember who is writing this. The evening ended uneventful. We all went home. And as always over here in France, I woke up without a hangover.
We then decided to go to a bar, since we had finished studying. The original bar we went to was completely dead and overpriced so we found another one called "le Rhumarie". It was great and as you might guess filled with rum drinks. I had 2 very very strong rums there as did the two girls. While there they had talked me into skipping a play I had bought tickets to, so that I would instead spend the evening with them. We also got to talking about sex. One of the more funnier moments was when they said I had to experience sex with a French woman, so that I would know more than just the missionary position because American girls were so boring in bed. We talked about oral sex for awhile, then decided we needed something to eat.
We went back to one of their apartments had some dinner, drank a glass of wine and then ended with 2 more Martini Cokes (sounds weird I know but was pretty damn good). Anyways, for all of you hoping that this story leads somewhere....you have to remember who is writing this. The evening ended uneventful. We all went home. And as always over here in France, I woke up without a hangover.
Friday, November 10, 2006
I HATE FRENCH WOMEN
Okay so I was going to include this in my last post, but thought it deserved a post of its own.
As the title "implies" (Yes Arbusto, implies) I hate French women, okay maybe hate is too strong of a word.
So I had three potential targets since the last time I posted. One during my clown internship (don't worry will explain it in a later post, but yes I took classes in Paris on how to be a clown) and two from my current classes.
All three acted the same way and oddly enough all three ended the same way. I think what it comes down to is me being completely unable to read signs from women whatsoever. I might be able to read US Supreme Court Cases and understand them; US Army interrogation logs and be able to cite what article they are violating in international treaties; or Candide in French and understand Voltaires word games or satire of Leibniz; but for fuck's sake I am like a Elaine trying to figure out why Ziggy is so funny when it comes to me and women. Normally just stating my record of 24 years and only one 2 month disasterous relationship or getting my first kiss at the age of 22 would suffice. But no I will go on.
All 3 of the above mentioned attractive French ladies were friendly at first. Just in a normal friend type of way, but as time progressed they became more friendly. Now I always read more into things than anyone ever should, but here is what happened in all 3 cases. After awhile they began to open up more; they would either wait for me or tell me to wait to walk 3 blocks together before we split for the day; would sit next to me and whisper things to me during classes; would be over "complementative" (not sure if that is a word but it is now) on things I would tell them about me; would always be extremely close to me; and all 3 would touch me lightly on my arm or shoulder when telling me things or laughing together. They all 3 would said we should do such and such together or go to such and such and place. Now I wasn't thinking they were madly in love with me, I might be stupid but not retarded, I was just thinking that maybe they were giving me signs that they would be interested in hanging out together and seeing where things went from there.
What did all 3 have in common, they all had boyfriends ranging from 3-6 year relationships. Oddly enough all 3 lived with their boyfriend too. One of them is even dating a French Air Force jet pilot, and she has asked me to go out drinking and dancing with her. (Fearing retaliation from Maverick and Goose I am not sure if I am willing to go).
Anyways I think I prefer life in the States where I am not confused about women because it is clear none are hitting on me whatsoever.
As the title "implies" (Yes Arbusto, implies) I hate French women, okay maybe hate is too strong of a word.
So I had three potential targets since the last time I posted. One during my clown internship (don't worry will explain it in a later post, but yes I took classes in Paris on how to be a clown) and two from my current classes.
All three acted the same way and oddly enough all three ended the same way. I think what it comes down to is me being completely unable to read signs from women whatsoever. I might be able to read US Supreme Court Cases and understand them; US Army interrogation logs and be able to cite what article they are violating in international treaties; or Candide in French and understand Voltaires word games or satire of Leibniz; but for fuck's sake I am like a Elaine trying to figure out why Ziggy is so funny when it comes to me and women. Normally just stating my record of 24 years and only one 2 month disasterous relationship or getting my first kiss at the age of 22 would suffice. But no I will go on.
All 3 of the above mentioned attractive French ladies were friendly at first. Just in a normal friend type of way, but as time progressed they became more friendly. Now I always read more into things than anyone ever should, but here is what happened in all 3 cases. After awhile they began to open up more; they would either wait for me or tell me to wait to walk 3 blocks together before we split for the day; would sit next to me and whisper things to me during classes; would be over "complementative" (not sure if that is a word but it is now) on things I would tell them about me; would always be extremely close to me; and all 3 would touch me lightly on my arm or shoulder when telling me things or laughing together. They all 3 would said we should do such and such together or go to such and such and place. Now I wasn't thinking they were madly in love with me, I might be stupid but not retarded, I was just thinking that maybe they were giving me signs that they would be interested in hanging out together and seeing where things went from there.
What did all 3 have in common, they all had boyfriends ranging from 3-6 year relationships. Oddly enough all 3 lived with their boyfriend too. One of them is even dating a French Air Force jet pilot, and she has asked me to go out drinking and dancing with her. (Fearing retaliation from Maverick and Goose I am not sure if I am willing to go).
Anyways I think I prefer life in the States where I am not confused about women because it is clear none are hitting on me whatsoever.
Okay...Okay Sorry Part II
HA two posts in one day....if I keep this up I should be caught up by March.
In Part 1 I mentioned a conference, well yesterday I went to said conference and two things happened. First off one of my profs was there. Yep traveled 2k + miles to give a talk, didn't tell me he was going to be there (found out from my French profs), and when I introduced myself he said Hi....that was it. Maybe it is because I am from small town Iowa, but when a student is studying abroad and a represenative from the university travels that distance don't you think it is rude not tell the student that this prof is coming. Plus, he is here for 3 or 4 days and didn't invite me for coffee or lunch. Now I guess I am probably alone on this, but wouldn't you think as a member of the university they would want to know how the student is doing, is he having any problems, how is semester is going, concerns, etc. Nope, Hi and that is it. Bastard.
Also at this conference I randomly got myself into something that I am not sure I should have. I said hi to a lady that I thought I had in one of my mediation classes last month. I had already saw another one so thought maybe a couple had come to this conference. After the conference we chatted some and I saw her name on a business card she gave me. I began thinking maybe this wasn't who I thought it was, she looked slightly different and had a different name then I thought she had. We chatted some more then she asked me to give a presentation to her law firm about the American mediation process. I said that I wasn't sure, I hadn't really taken any classes on the subject, etc. but she kept on insisting, so I gave her my card and she said she would call me. When I returned to my apartment I looked up the classmates name and sure enough it wasn't her. So to recap everything...I met a random person thinking she was someone else, was invited to give a presentation to a group of French lawyers, on a subject I don't know. Yet I am still going to go and give the presentation. I just have to find out what the hell Transitive Mediation is.
In Part 1 I mentioned a conference, well yesterday I went to said conference and two things happened. First off one of my profs was there. Yep traveled 2k + miles to give a talk, didn't tell me he was going to be there (found out from my French profs), and when I introduced myself he said Hi....that was it. Maybe it is because I am from small town Iowa, but when a student is studying abroad and a represenative from the university travels that distance don't you think it is rude not tell the student that this prof is coming. Plus, he is here for 3 or 4 days and didn't invite me for coffee or lunch. Now I guess I am probably alone on this, but wouldn't you think as a member of the university they would want to know how the student is doing, is he having any problems, how is semester is going, concerns, etc. Nope, Hi and that is it. Bastard.
Also at this conference I randomly got myself into something that I am not sure I should have. I said hi to a lady that I thought I had in one of my mediation classes last month. I had already saw another one so thought maybe a couple had come to this conference. After the conference we chatted some and I saw her name on a business card she gave me. I began thinking maybe this wasn't who I thought it was, she looked slightly different and had a different name then I thought she had. We chatted some more then she asked me to give a presentation to her law firm about the American mediation process. I said that I wasn't sure, I hadn't really taken any classes on the subject, etc. but she kept on insisting, so I gave her my card and she said she would call me. When I returned to my apartment I looked up the classmates name and sure enough it wasn't her. So to recap everything...I met a random person thinking she was someone else, was invited to give a presentation to a group of French lawyers, on a subject I don't know. Yet I am still going to go and give the presentation. I just have to find out what the hell Transitive Mediation is.
Okay...Okay Sorry Part 1
Well sorry I haven't posted in awhile. Basically I was just lazy like usual. But since some of you have so "politely" pointed out that I should post, looking at you MONA, here it goes:
Hmm, how to catch everyone up. Well I have an internship FINALLY. It is at an international law frim with about 20 or so lawyers. It is great. They have 3 divisions an English speaking division, a German division, and an insurance division (one of their big clients is a very large American insurance company). Oh they are doing pretty well for a law firm too. They are in the richest part of Paris, with a huge building gated and all, across from the Algerian Embassy, and next door to the Rolex building (yes Rolex has an entire building rather than just a normal store like every other company). They also have a patio overlooking an awesome park.
I am working with an American who has been in Paris for 20 years now. Basically he is just using me for my Westlaw, but it is all good because I am just using him for my resume. There are two extremely hot associates too, including one who has the whole sexy librarian look down to a T.
In more class related news... My dick of a professor over here keeps blaming me for all of the problems. Thankfully my prof back home knows that it is not my problem and the French Prof is just one big ass. He told me he couldn't find me an internship (he had 3 months before I got there and 2 months afterwards) because I missed one meeting with him that would have lasted a half hour on a Saturday in September. Apparently that was the only Saturday in the entire two months that I have been here that would work to find me an internship.
I have started daily classes though, with people my age. It is going pretty well. My French has improved a hundred times over, and I am able to contribute in class. The other day we had to split the class, 21 people, up into groups for a conference. Each person was supposed to listen, take notes, and report on a speaker. Then as a group we would take all of the notes and condense it into 2 pages of what the conference was about. This was being done during the class that is focusing on "team building" (I use quotations because those are the same words the French use and it is hilarious to hear them say team building). We had an hour and a half to figure out responsibilities, roles, and when people were attending. The prof told let us do it all by ourselves and he observed.
What he ended up observing was 45 minutes of French babble with absolutely nothing decided. I constantly was looking at him trying to get him to stop the neverending talk about absolutely nothing. I had a massive headache to boot. Finally he stopped it and then to my surprise asked me how this all would have gone down in the States. I told him someone would be the leader, direct the talk, asked focused questions, and make sure everyone stayed on task. He then completely caught me off guard and asked me after observing the 45 minutes of bullshit who I would think would be that leader. I told him who, he told that person to take over, and everything was done 15 minutes later. I lauged because the American way took 15 minutes and the French way would probably be still going on as I am typing this, even though the conference is already over.
Anyways, hopefully I will post more often and the cat that is lying next to me will stop snoring.
Hmm, how to catch everyone up. Well I have an internship FINALLY. It is at an international law frim with about 20 or so lawyers. It is great. They have 3 divisions an English speaking division, a German division, and an insurance division (one of their big clients is a very large American insurance company). Oh they are doing pretty well for a law firm too. They are in the richest part of Paris, with a huge building gated and all, across from the Algerian Embassy, and next door to the Rolex building (yes Rolex has an entire building rather than just a normal store like every other company). They also have a patio overlooking an awesome park.
I am working with an American who has been in Paris for 20 years now. Basically he is just using me for my Westlaw, but it is all good because I am just using him for my resume. There are two extremely hot associates too, including one who has the whole sexy librarian look down to a T.
In more class related news... My dick of a professor over here keeps blaming me for all of the problems. Thankfully my prof back home knows that it is not my problem and the French Prof is just one big ass. He told me he couldn't find me an internship (he had 3 months before I got there and 2 months afterwards) because I missed one meeting with him that would have lasted a half hour on a Saturday in September. Apparently that was the only Saturday in the entire two months that I have been here that would work to find me an internship.
I have started daily classes though, with people my age. It is going pretty well. My French has improved a hundred times over, and I am able to contribute in class. The other day we had to split the class, 21 people, up into groups for a conference. Each person was supposed to listen, take notes, and report on a speaker. Then as a group we would take all of the notes and condense it into 2 pages of what the conference was about. This was being done during the class that is focusing on "team building" (I use quotations because those are the same words the French use and it is hilarious to hear them say team building). We had an hour and a half to figure out responsibilities, roles, and when people were attending. The prof told let us do it all by ourselves and he observed.
What he ended up observing was 45 minutes of French babble with absolutely nothing decided. I constantly was looking at him trying to get him to stop the neverending talk about absolutely nothing. I had a massive headache to boot. Finally he stopped it and then to my surprise asked me how this all would have gone down in the States. I told him someone would be the leader, direct the talk, asked focused questions, and make sure everyone stayed on task. He then completely caught me off guard and asked me after observing the 45 minutes of bullshit who I would think would be that leader. I told him who, he told that person to take over, and everything was done 15 minutes later. I lauged because the American way took 15 minutes and the French way would probably be still going on as I am typing this, even though the conference is already over.
Anyways, hopefully I will post more often and the cat that is lying next to me will stop snoring.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Liberal Left Fantasy Football
No the title is not wrong I am proposing my 2006 Liberal Left Fantasy Football Team. This has stemmed from my friend Arbusto's blog and the specific conversation here, here, here, here, and lastly here. So without further ado here it goes:
QB: Peyton Manning
Reasoning: Actually was a toss-up between McNabb and Manning. McNabb, a minority, clearly only got the position due to affirmative action. But ultimately it is Peyton's never-ending spreading of the wealth that earns him the spot. Peyton has thrown 8 TDs to 6 different receivers this year and only one to his favorite target Marvin Harrison. It is this equal distribution of wealth to all of his teammates including 4 to TEs, 2 of thos going to the backup Fletcher.
RB: Edgerin James
Reasoning: Is there any better example of someone giving up everything he has to go work for a charity organization? Edge gave up working with Peyton, Harrison, and Wayne to go work with Leinart and the Cardinals offensive line. What Edge did takes great sacrifice and thus makes him the fruntrunner for RB on the Liberal Left Fantasy Football team.
RB: Frank Gore
Reasoning: Is there a more Liberal Left town than San Francisco? Enough said. Close second: Laurence Maroney, same reasoning only New England.
WR: Marvin Harrison
Reasoning: At age 34, Marvin Harrison represents the senior citizens of football. He is on the team to voice concern over his social security and retirement benefits that the government may not be able to pay him.
WR: Terrel Owens
Reasoning: Prescription drugs are costly these days, and with Owens taking so many he is obviously concerned about their price.
WR: Jerry Porter
Reasoning: Even though he hasn't played all year, he is on the team. In fact that is why he is on the team. He is collecting his paycheck and not even playing. He is not injured, sick, or handicapped. He is just collecting his wellfare.
TE: Marques Colston (cheating a bit here but he is still considered a TE under Yahoo fantasy football)
Reasoning: Young, minority, and representing New Orleans. He is rebuilding that city TD by TD.
K: Robbie Gould
Reasoning: Well he could be playing for either the Liberal Lefts or the Righteous Righties because he is neither wide left or wide right; he is always straight down the middle.
Defense: New England Patriots
Reasoning: Basically the same as Frank Gore at RB. Rather than having one New Englander though (Maroney), why not have a whole team from Ted Kennedy's home state.
Honorable Mention: Troy Vincent
Reasoning: Although he is an individual defensive player (S), he was unemployed (just hired), old at 35, black, and head of the NFL Players Association For the last reason alone he should be put on the Liberal Left Fantasy Football Team.
QB: Peyton Manning
Reasoning: Actually was a toss-up between McNabb and Manning. McNabb, a minority, clearly only got the position due to affirmative action. But ultimately it is Peyton's never-ending spreading of the wealth that earns him the spot. Peyton has thrown 8 TDs to 6 different receivers this year and only one to his favorite target Marvin Harrison. It is this equal distribution of wealth to all of his teammates including 4 to TEs, 2 of thos going to the backup Fletcher.
RB: Edgerin James
Reasoning: Is there any better example of someone giving up everything he has to go work for a charity organization? Edge gave up working with Peyton, Harrison, and Wayne to go work with Leinart and the Cardinals offensive line. What Edge did takes great sacrifice and thus makes him the fruntrunner for RB on the Liberal Left Fantasy Football team.
RB: Frank Gore
Reasoning: Is there a more Liberal Left town than San Francisco? Enough said. Close second: Laurence Maroney, same reasoning only New England.
WR: Marvin Harrison
Reasoning: At age 34, Marvin Harrison represents the senior citizens of football. He is on the team to voice concern over his social security and retirement benefits that the government may not be able to pay him.
WR: Terrel Owens
Reasoning: Prescription drugs are costly these days, and with Owens taking so many he is obviously concerned about their price.
WR: Jerry Porter
Reasoning: Even though he hasn't played all year, he is on the team. In fact that is why he is on the team. He is collecting his paycheck and not even playing. He is not injured, sick, or handicapped. He is just collecting his wellfare.
TE: Marques Colston (cheating a bit here but he is still considered a TE under Yahoo fantasy football)
Reasoning: Young, minority, and representing New Orleans. He is rebuilding that city TD by TD.
K: Robbie Gould
Reasoning: Well he could be playing for either the Liberal Lefts or the Righteous Righties because he is neither wide left or wide right; he is always straight down the middle.
Defense: New England Patriots
Reasoning: Basically the same as Frank Gore at RB. Rather than having one New Englander though (Maroney), why not have a whole team from Ted Kennedy's home state.
Honorable Mention: Troy Vincent
Reasoning: Although he is an individual defensive player (S), he was unemployed (just hired), old at 35, black, and head of the NFL Players Association For the last reason alone he should be put on the Liberal Left Fantasy Football Team.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Clowning Around in Paris
Title story:
So once again I am going to do something very Castanza like, in my eyes. Instead of focusing on law school here in Paris like I am supposed to be doing, I am going to take classes on how to be a clown. Yes a clown. I feel that because it is actual classes it is much to organized of a thing for Kramer and could easily see George quitting his job to do this. Although it won't be circus clown classes (rather French theatrical clowns) it should still be fun and something completely random that I could put on the ol' resume just to get weird questions about it.
Thankfully the Bears have a bye week:
If you haven't read this story yet, I suggest doing so. But I have always wondered why terrorists have not attacked a football stadium, especially one like Michigan. How many other times can you find over 100,00 plus people compacted into a small area. Isn't that an easy target? Symbolic? High number of fatalities? I mean I am not wanting someone to do this, but I guess I am surprised they have not taken a page out of Tom Clancy's Sum of All Fears.
Maladies in France:
Anyone that knows me, knows that I am constantly sick. So I decided to list all of the things I have had go wrong since being here in France (have been here not quite 2 months):
Cold
Sinus Infection
Kidney Stone (2nd one in 3 months)
and my favorite Arthritis in my foot...this is the same foot that had surgery on it 6 years ago and is now developping arhtritis from the surgery according to my podiatrist. Yes I have a podiatrist, in fact I think I could staff an entire hospital with all of the medical personal I visit.
And yes I am still under 25 years of age.
Weight Loss:
Current weight loss is at 11 kilos or 24.2lbs. I still say the best diet for a guy (only guys) is to come to France. It has nothing to do with the full squid (not cut up into indistinguishable pieces), purple rice, seaweed soup, weird mushrooms, or steamed prunes that I am forced to eat; I just always lose weight in France.
When I came here I had 3 goals about my weight. One was easily attainable, one that I expect to do but will be more difficult, and one that will take some work but would be awesome if I can do it. Here they are:
1. Reach 100 kilos. When I got here I weighed myself at 214.5 kilos, I am now at 103 kilos...almost there. Hopefully will be there at the end of October.
2. Be under 200lbs, this is roughly 93-95 kilos (I am too lazy to do the math right now) I think I can reach it but it will be close.
3. Be at 185lbs. This is going to be really tough and if I really press myself I think I can do it, but then again I am lazy. We will see how the first half of November goes.
For those that were curious 114.5 kilos is equal to 151.9lbs and I am now at 226lbs in a month and 20 days.
So once again I am going to do something very Castanza like, in my eyes. Instead of focusing on law school here in Paris like I am supposed to be doing, I am going to take classes on how to be a clown. Yes a clown. I feel that because it is actual classes it is much to organized of a thing for Kramer and could easily see George quitting his job to do this. Although it won't be circus clown classes (rather French theatrical clowns) it should still be fun and something completely random that I could put on the ol' resume just to get weird questions about it.
Thankfully the Bears have a bye week:
If you haven't read this story yet, I suggest doing so. But I have always wondered why terrorists have not attacked a football stadium, especially one like Michigan. How many other times can you find over 100,00 plus people compacted into a small area. Isn't that an easy target? Symbolic? High number of fatalities? I mean I am not wanting someone to do this, but I guess I am surprised they have not taken a page out of Tom Clancy's Sum of All Fears.
Maladies in France:
Anyone that knows me, knows that I am constantly sick. So I decided to list all of the things I have had go wrong since being here in France (have been here not quite 2 months):
Cold
Sinus Infection
Kidney Stone (2nd one in 3 months)
and my favorite Arthritis in my foot...this is the same foot that had surgery on it 6 years ago and is now developping arhtritis from the surgery according to my podiatrist. Yes I have a podiatrist, in fact I think I could staff an entire hospital with all of the medical personal I visit.
And yes I am still under 25 years of age.
Weight Loss:
Current weight loss is at 11 kilos or 24.2lbs. I still say the best diet for a guy (only guys) is to come to France. It has nothing to do with the full squid (not cut up into indistinguishable pieces), purple rice, seaweed soup, weird mushrooms, or steamed prunes that I am forced to eat; I just always lose weight in France.
When I came here I had 3 goals about my weight. One was easily attainable, one that I expect to do but will be more difficult, and one that will take some work but would be awesome if I can do it. Here they are:
1. Reach 100 kilos. When I got here I weighed myself at 214.5 kilos, I am now at 103 kilos...almost there. Hopefully will be there at the end of October.
2. Be under 200lbs, this is roughly 93-95 kilos (I am too lazy to do the math right now) I think I can reach it but it will be close.
3. Be at 185lbs. This is going to be really tough and if I really press myself I think I can do it, but then again I am lazy. We will see how the first half of November goes.
For those that were curious 114.5 kilos is equal to 151.9lbs and I am now at 226lbs in a month and 20 days.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
A Cat Gets Better Vacations Than I Do
So the other day at dinner my host mom says, "Oh did I mention I have a cat?" Now I thought this might be a joke or something. I mean I had been staying here 3 weeks, and I saw no cat. She then said, "It is on vacation in Provence."
"What???" The cat is on vacation. Now I really thought this was a joke. She saw the incredulous look on my face and pointed to hot host daughter, "Tell him we have a cat." She was slightly laughing because she knew I didn't believe but said they did. Now I was really skeptical because hot host daughter was laughing.
The Chinese exchange student (CES), who also is staying here (this apt is like a really expensive hostel), chiped in too, "yep there is a cat." Now I was still not believing this and thought maybe the CES just caught onto the game they were playing with me.
So host mom then says that she is leaving the next day to go bring it back. Now I could tell she wasn't joking. They actually had a cat, and it was actually on vacation. So I began asking questions...
Name: Mincey
Color: Mainly white, with brown, and black
Eyes: Blue
Type: I don't know cat breed names in French sorry
Age: 16 pretty old cat
I then asked the interesting questions, "What do you mean by 'vacaton'?" Thinking they dropped it off while they were on vacation or something like that. Oh no, the host did not actually go on vacation just the cat. Yes that is right the cat went on a vacation but it's owner could not. Wanting to know more about the cat I then asked, "Is it friendly, how does it act?"
She answers by saying, "Well it is going to be depressed and lay around when it comes back, it is always like that after its vacation." Yes this isn't a one-time deal; it is annual. She continued, "When it is in the country it gets to run around, hunt, climb trees, but when it returns here it has nothing to do but lay around."
I then ask, "Where is the cat at?" Thinking just outside Paris or something. Oh no, Southern France. Yes the cat vacations with Paris Hilton, Jenifer Aniston, Nicole Richey, and Mincey. Now it wasn't on the coast but still Provence is a great region in Southern France. (Largely known for its cuisine and herbs).
So yes I live with a family, who sends their cat on vacation each year to Southern France. The cat runs, climbs, hunts, and whatever else cats do in the wild until it is time to come and then it rests up until next year when it gets to go on vacation again. Until then Mincey lays around the house and eats the fish and vegetables that is cooked for her every night. Oh did I forget to mention they cook cod and green beans for the cat every night. Yes that is my host family.
"What???" The cat is on vacation. Now I really thought this was a joke. She saw the incredulous look on my face and pointed to hot host daughter, "Tell him we have a cat." She was slightly laughing because she knew I didn't believe but said they did. Now I was really skeptical because hot host daughter was laughing.
The Chinese exchange student (CES), who also is staying here (this apt is like a really expensive hostel), chiped in too, "yep there is a cat." Now I was still not believing this and thought maybe the CES just caught onto the game they were playing with me.
So host mom then says that she is leaving the next day to go bring it back. Now I could tell she wasn't joking. They actually had a cat, and it was actually on vacation. So I began asking questions...
Name: Mincey
Color: Mainly white, with brown, and black
Eyes: Blue
Type: I don't know cat breed names in French sorry
Age: 16 pretty old cat
I then asked the interesting questions, "What do you mean by 'vacaton'?" Thinking they dropped it off while they were on vacation or something like that. Oh no, the host did not actually go on vacation just the cat. Yes that is right the cat went on a vacation but it's owner could not. Wanting to know more about the cat I then asked, "Is it friendly, how does it act?"
She answers by saying, "Well it is going to be depressed and lay around when it comes back, it is always like that after its vacation." Yes this isn't a one-time deal; it is annual. She continued, "When it is in the country it gets to run around, hunt, climb trees, but when it returns here it has nothing to do but lay around."
I then ask, "Where is the cat at?" Thinking just outside Paris or something. Oh no, Southern France. Yes the cat vacations with Paris Hilton, Jenifer Aniston, Nicole Richey, and Mincey. Now it wasn't on the coast but still Provence is a great region in Southern France. (Largely known for its cuisine and herbs).
So yes I live with a family, who sends their cat on vacation each year to Southern France. The cat runs, climbs, hunts, and whatever else cats do in the wild until it is time to come and then it rests up until next year when it gets to go on vacation again. Until then Mincey lays around the house and eats the fish and vegetables that is cooked for her every night. Oh did I forget to mention they cook cod and green beans for the cat every night. Yes that is my host family.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Should I Be Flattered?
Titile:
So yesterday on the Metro something...very me happened. I swear these things only happen to me. I had a transvestite hit on me. More specifically she/he (I am not sure which they were more of, or what the proper pronoun is there) got up to exit, gave me their number, said "call me" in a disturbingly frightening tone (like a husky come hither male voice), and then exited. I missed my stop because I was too stunned to do anything else. So I guess I should kind of be flattered (?) I have never had a woman hit on me (or none so obvious), but i am more disturbed than anything else. I cringe thinking about it. No Arbusto I did not call.
The French and Time:
Today the CLE (continuing law education) class I went to got over 20 minutes late. This is suprisingly better than the 30 minutes last time. Now I know the French have absolutely no concept of time, but seriously 20-30 minutes is a long fucking time after 2 hours. At that point my brain was wandering off to whatever I could think of because it was so long. I really don't understand how the French have trains that are to the second, but when it comes to everything else they just act like time does not exist.
Annoying Classroom behavior:
There are always people in class that annoy the hell out of me, it is just who I am. At law school there are the "Over Achievers", "Chatterboxes", "Dumb Question Askers" (Yes there are dumb questions), "Constant Talkers" and "Nodders". Now before I go on I will admit I do nod sometimes but when I catch myself I stop. And I am a Constant Talker, sorry it is me.
Over Achievers, Nodders, and Dumb Questioners are pretty straight forward.
Chatterboxes are the ones in class that constantly talk to their neighbor, but it is so loud everyone in class knows that the two got herpes from the same guy.
Constant Talkers can be split in two divisions. The first being people who talk in class (when called on) about everyday. This is me, sorry again (I actually will post on why I do this later and am actually thinking about writing a book about it for college students). And then there are the ones who ask questions just as class is getting over. Those people should have their tongues cut out...and then fed to them. They wait till there is two minutes left and ask a question that takes 10 minutes to answer and everyone has to hear the answer that is pointless anyways. The rule is clear for clear concise questions 7-10 minutes remaining in class min. For long complicated questions 12-15 minutes must be remaining in class. Period. No exceptions. If you must stay after and ask the prof the question.
France has taken the whole question at the last minute thing to a new level though. In multiple classes people have asked questions 10-20 minutes AFTER class. Not only that they ask multiple questions. God I hate that. Plus the French have added another category to the annoying list "THE ONE WHO ANSWERS ALL QUESTIONS EVEN RHETORICAL ONES" Oh yes in each of my classes I have one person who not only nods but also talks, confirms, and answers EVERYTHING the professor says. Just audible enough that doesn't disturb the prof but so that everyone can hear them. Let me make this clear.... I HATE THEM.
Why the Parisiens Can't Walk On the Street:
This will be a longer post later on how people are supposed to walk in the street or in buildings including not standing in heavily traveled areas. But I must say I finally understand why the people in Paris just kind of walk all over the sidewalk instead of having directional sidewalk flow. (You know where you stay on the right and oncoming foot traffic stays on your left.) It is quite simple, most Parisieners don't drive. It is instilled in most Americans brains that you stay on the right side of the road, sidewalk, stairs, etc. But if you have never driven anything and don't constantly ride in a car, you would never figure this out. So I will give the Parisiens a break on this one.
Sorry no new Pigeon stories, but I did take this photo at Notre Dame. Apparently he has better luck with them than I do.
So yesterday on the Metro something...very me happened. I swear these things only happen to me. I had a transvestite hit on me. More specifically she/he (I am not sure which they were more of, or what the proper pronoun is there) got up to exit, gave me their number, said "call me" in a disturbingly frightening tone (like a husky come hither male voice), and then exited. I missed my stop because I was too stunned to do anything else. So I guess I should kind of be flattered (?) I have never had a woman hit on me (or none so obvious), but i am more disturbed than anything else. I cringe thinking about it. No Arbusto I did not call.
The French and Time:
Today the CLE (continuing law education) class I went to got over 20 minutes late. This is suprisingly better than the 30 minutes last time. Now I know the French have absolutely no concept of time, but seriously 20-30 minutes is a long fucking time after 2 hours. At that point my brain was wandering off to whatever I could think of because it was so long. I really don't understand how the French have trains that are to the second, but when it comes to everything else they just act like time does not exist.
Annoying Classroom behavior:
There are always people in class that annoy the hell out of me, it is just who I am. At law school there are the "Over Achievers", "Chatterboxes", "Dumb Question Askers" (Yes there are dumb questions), "Constant Talkers" and "Nodders". Now before I go on I will admit I do nod sometimes but when I catch myself I stop. And I am a Constant Talker, sorry it is me.
Over Achievers, Nodders, and Dumb Questioners are pretty straight forward.
Chatterboxes are the ones in class that constantly talk to their neighbor, but it is so loud everyone in class knows that the two got herpes from the same guy.
Constant Talkers can be split in two divisions. The first being people who talk in class (when called on) about everyday. This is me, sorry again (I actually will post on why I do this later and am actually thinking about writing a book about it for college students). And then there are the ones who ask questions just as class is getting over. Those people should have their tongues cut out...and then fed to them. They wait till there is two minutes left and ask a question that takes 10 minutes to answer and everyone has to hear the answer that is pointless anyways. The rule is clear for clear concise questions 7-10 minutes remaining in class min. For long complicated questions 12-15 minutes must be remaining in class. Period. No exceptions. If you must stay after and ask the prof the question.
France has taken the whole question at the last minute thing to a new level though. In multiple classes people have asked questions 10-20 minutes AFTER class. Not only that they ask multiple questions. God I hate that. Plus the French have added another category to the annoying list "THE ONE WHO ANSWERS ALL QUESTIONS EVEN RHETORICAL ONES" Oh yes in each of my classes I have one person who not only nods but also talks, confirms, and answers EVERYTHING the professor says. Just audible enough that doesn't disturb the prof but so that everyone can hear them. Let me make this clear.... I HATE THEM.
Why the Parisiens Can't Walk On the Street:
This will be a longer post later on how people are supposed to walk in the street or in buildings including not standing in heavily traveled areas. But I must say I finally understand why the people in Paris just kind of walk all over the sidewalk instead of having directional sidewalk flow. (You know where you stay on the right and oncoming foot traffic stays on your left.) It is quite simple, most Parisieners don't drive. It is instilled in most Americans brains that you stay on the right side of the road, sidewalk, stairs, etc. But if you have never driven anything and don't constantly ride in a car, you would never figure this out. So I will give the Parisiens a break on this one.
Sorry no new Pigeon stories, but I did take this photo at Notre Dame. Apparently he has better luck with them than I do.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Gender Issues
HOLY CRAP!!!!
Today walking to the market I saw a person walking towards me. Bravo Furry a person walking towards you in Paris. But this person was different. It was an old woman with her coat on, scarf around her head, big sac full of things, and her full facial beard. WHAT??? Yes you heard me a full facial beard with mustache and all. I didn't even have to pay the $5 to get into the freak show. (I know I am going to hell already, so might as well say it). I mean this wasn't your old lady's fuzz this was long strands of ugliness on her face. After my brain processed that this indeed was a woman, I nearly barfed on the street, seriously. I know it is shallow, but it was hideous. After 5 minutes I started laughing to myself about it (I know already I am a horrible person), but the laughing caused me to think about it again, which nearly caused me to barf again. I mean don't you at some point have to shave it? What is the ruling on facial hair for old women?
Speaking of mixed up genders....
Western Europe uses the Euro (I know some countries don't, but just go with me here) this is a coin based monetary unit for the most part. That means the majority of products or services are paid for with coins, which in turns means you have to carry a lot of coins. This leads to men with coin purses. Now I am not as open to my sexuality as say Arbusto, but am not nearly as closed as Brandon or the human garbage disposal. But, I do have a some weird problem with my masuclinity about carrying around a coin purse. I think I would be caught carrying a murse before a coin purse. Yet all of the men do it here. All. It is a very weird thing for me, and I don't think I will be converted.
Weird difference between two countries:
In the US we use a "." as a decimal point and a "," to seperate between thousands and millions etc. In France it is completely the opposite and fucks up my head. Here in France they use "," as a decimal and a "." between the thousand mark and million mark.
Weird irony between two countries:
In a country that does not use the metric system (i.e. USA) we have 2 liter bottles of pop. Yet in a country that does have the metric system (i.e. France) they only have 1,5 liter bottles of pop. ??? (notice how I used the "," too)
Today walking to the market I saw a person walking towards me. Bravo Furry a person walking towards you in Paris. But this person was different. It was an old woman with her coat on, scarf around her head, big sac full of things, and her full facial beard. WHAT??? Yes you heard me a full facial beard with mustache and all. I didn't even have to pay the $5 to get into the freak show. (I know I am going to hell already, so might as well say it). I mean this wasn't your old lady's fuzz this was long strands of ugliness on her face. After my brain processed that this indeed was a woman, I nearly barfed on the street, seriously. I know it is shallow, but it was hideous. After 5 minutes I started laughing to myself about it (I know already I am a horrible person), but the laughing caused me to think about it again, which nearly caused me to barf again. I mean don't you at some point have to shave it? What is the ruling on facial hair for old women?
Speaking of mixed up genders....
Western Europe uses the Euro (I know some countries don't, but just go with me here) this is a coin based monetary unit for the most part. That means the majority of products or services are paid for with coins, which in turns means you have to carry a lot of coins. This leads to men with coin purses. Now I am not as open to my sexuality as say Arbusto, but am not nearly as closed as Brandon or the human garbage disposal. But, I do have a some weird problem with my masuclinity about carrying around a coin purse. I think I would be caught carrying a murse before a coin purse. Yet all of the men do it here. All. It is a very weird thing for me, and I don't think I will be converted.
Weird difference between two countries:
In the US we use a "." as a decimal point and a "," to seperate between thousands and millions etc. In France it is completely the opposite and fucks up my head. Here in France they use "," as a decimal and a "." between the thousand mark and million mark.
Weird irony between two countries:
In a country that does not use the metric system (i.e. USA) we have 2 liter bottles of pop. Yet in a country that does have the metric system (i.e. France) they only have 1,5 liter bottles of pop. ??? (notice how I used the "," too)
Monday, October 02, 2006
Dreaming
So it is 7:30AM right now and I am pretty wide awake, even though it is so early, I am happy. Why? I just had the best dream ever, you know one of those dreams that just makes you feel wonderful when you wake up, no not that kind of dream you sex fiends. Well not quite. It was a dream that filled that void in my life, made me feel as if I was wrapped in a warm blanket, put a smile on my face, and gives me hope about my future.
So what was this wonderful dream? (sorry if it skips around but you know how dreams go)
It began as almost the narrative of a girl who was writing/wrote a book. She was well educated and was a writer by profession. She had dirty blond hair about shoulder length, kind of plain yet beautiful face, about 5'4, and an average body with slight womanly curves. She loved to take long runs in the morning just before the sun rose, and would narrate to herself on these long runs or just think out loud.
Now it appeared she and I were dating, probably not for long either because we still had that giddyness when we met, you know when two people are first dating and really like each other. That feeling that you never want to leave them and feel so nervous yet excited and happy when you are together.
It was around the holidays because she was at her parent's house even though she had her own home. Oh and she was married. WHAT??? No, I wasn't really cheating, she was married to a gay man, so that he could get insurance (not exactly sure how) even though that man had a significant other too. I know, I know, who has a dream like this. Oh yeah I think her name was Amy.
So I am dating a writer, who is married to a gay man, and has not told her parents yet that the marriage is kind of a farce and the man she is married to is gay. Oops did I not tell you that yet. So it is very awkward going over to her house during the holidays to see her. Her Dad even took me aside and had the whole, "What are your intentions for seeing her young man?" talk. I told him that we just had great conversation together, which was true, but not my intentions. Plus was kind of odd because I was over there when everyone was going to sleep. But when I entered her room we felt like teenagers because we left the light on, so as not to give away what we were really doing, which wasn't talking. Instead we were making out, well not so much as making out as giving light kisses to each other. Then I woke up.
Now most would say I woke up before the good part happened, I on the other hand feel differently. What I dreampt about is the one thing I want most in life. I want to feel close to someone whe feels the same way about me. I want to be able to have the latest kisses be just as exciting and nerve racking as the first kiss. I want that constant feeling that I am wrapped up in that warm blanket.
So what was this wonderful dream? (sorry if it skips around but you know how dreams go)
It began as almost the narrative of a girl who was writing/wrote a book. She was well educated and was a writer by profession. She had dirty blond hair about shoulder length, kind of plain yet beautiful face, about 5'4, and an average body with slight womanly curves. She loved to take long runs in the morning just before the sun rose, and would narrate to herself on these long runs or just think out loud.
Now it appeared she and I were dating, probably not for long either because we still had that giddyness when we met, you know when two people are first dating and really like each other. That feeling that you never want to leave them and feel so nervous yet excited and happy when you are together.
It was around the holidays because she was at her parent's house even though she had her own home. Oh and she was married. WHAT??? No, I wasn't really cheating, she was married to a gay man, so that he could get insurance (not exactly sure how) even though that man had a significant other too. I know, I know, who has a dream like this. Oh yeah I think her name was Amy.
So I am dating a writer, who is married to a gay man, and has not told her parents yet that the marriage is kind of a farce and the man she is married to is gay. Oops did I not tell you that yet. So it is very awkward going over to her house during the holidays to see her. Her Dad even took me aside and had the whole, "What are your intentions for seeing her young man?" talk. I told him that we just had great conversation together, which was true, but not my intentions. Plus was kind of odd because I was over there when everyone was going to sleep. But when I entered her room we felt like teenagers because we left the light on, so as not to give away what we were really doing, which wasn't talking. Instead we were making out, well not so much as making out as giving light kisses to each other. Then I woke up.
Now most would say I woke up before the good part happened, I on the other hand feel differently. What I dreampt about is the one thing I want most in life. I want to feel close to someone whe feels the same way about me. I want to be able to have the latest kisses be just as exciting and nerve racking as the first kiss. I want that constant feeling that I am wrapped up in that warm blanket.
Paris Hilton
YAY YAY YAY:
My internship looks like it is going to start. I am being very cautions in hopes that I don't jinx it. I finally got a call from the lawyer today and we FINALLY set up a time to meet. This should be an oppurtunitly like no other because she is the director of the international arbitration section in the biggest law firm in France. International arbitration is such a hard field to break into that I am hoping my schmoozing/networking skills will come to life.
Title explanation:
So the daughters of my host took their father's last name, Hilton. I just realized that if I can somehow date one of them, I'd be dating a Hilton in Paris. Although, I despise Paris Hilton, it does make for an interesting story for children or grandchildren. "Oh yes I dated a Paris Hilton" I just won't tell them it was a Hilton in Paris not the Paris Hilton.
Weirdest Ad Yet in France:
On the Metro (subway here) today I noticed a particular sign that was kind of odd...
I will let you decide for yourself here you go:
It is for Eurostar (a highspeed European Train) promoting Romance in London. Sadly it took me 3 times staring at the sign before I realized they were not just talking about breakfast with your loved one in london.
Near Death Moment:
Today walking down the street I had a pigeon that was flying directly at me chest high and going 20 miles per hour. Normally I am used to birds flying around humans, this time I had to jump out of the way to avoid a collapsed lung and big poof of feathers. It was only about 6 inches from me before jumped out of the way. So lets recap, so far pigeons have pooped on my black shirt I just bought and one of only 2 shirts I had at the time, and now nearly impaled my chest.
Pigeons: 2 Me: pathetic
My internship looks like it is going to start. I am being very cautions in hopes that I don't jinx it. I finally got a call from the lawyer today and we FINALLY set up a time to meet. This should be an oppurtunitly like no other because she is the director of the international arbitration section in the biggest law firm in France. International arbitration is such a hard field to break into that I am hoping my schmoozing/networking skills will come to life.
Title explanation:
So the daughters of my host took their father's last name, Hilton. I just realized that if I can somehow date one of them, I'd be dating a Hilton in Paris. Although, I despise Paris Hilton, it does make for an interesting story for children or grandchildren. "Oh yes I dated a Paris Hilton" I just won't tell them it was a Hilton in Paris not the Paris Hilton.
Weirdest Ad Yet in France:
On the Metro (subway here) today I noticed a particular sign that was kind of odd...
I will let you decide for yourself here you go:
It is for Eurostar (a highspeed European Train) promoting Romance in London. Sadly it took me 3 times staring at the sign before I realized they were not just talking about breakfast with your loved one in london.
Near Death Moment:
Today walking down the street I had a pigeon that was flying directly at me chest high and going 20 miles per hour. Normally I am used to birds flying around humans, this time I had to jump out of the way to avoid a collapsed lung and big poof of feathers. It was only about 6 inches from me before jumped out of the way. So lets recap, so far pigeons have pooped on my black shirt I just bought and one of only 2 shirts I had at the time, and now nearly impaled my chest.
Pigeons: 2 Me: pathetic
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Man I am gassy tonight
Okay so the title has nothing to do with this post, but speaks the truth. It is kind of a problem being as how thin the walls are here, but if I have to fart I have to fart.
The real subject of this post is about French movies. Now France has a long history of films beginning with Les freres Lumieres. (Side note: why is it that every French invention is done by a pair ex: Lumieres (film industry), Curies (Medecine), and my favorite Montgolifieres (invented the hot air balloon, and the first object to carry man in the air.) Anyways, throughout time France has done some pretty great films Jeanne d'arc (circa 1898), Les Enfants du Paradis (1945), Mon Oncle (1958), and my favorite movie of all time Les Diaboliques (1955). (All dates are courtesy of IMDB where you can read about these movies as well.) In fact French cinema has helped create the film industry, revolutionizing it in certain eras and by recognizing certain films at the most celebrated film fesitval in the world at Cannes with the Palm d'Or.
Then there is the side that no one likes to talk about. The same French cinema has created such great classics has also created Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (1964); a film which I cannot say enough bad things about but think of West Side Story meets any Julia Roberts film. It is a musical that is so hard to sit through at the end you are either so zoned out you stay watching the TV for another 40 minutes before you realize you are watching nothing, or you have blood running from your ears. Then there are the genre like Le Pacte de Loupe (2001 Brotherhood of the Wolf) and Blanche (2002). Since some of you might have seen Brotherhood of the Wolf, I will start there. It is a typical French film in present day that has a decent story line with the absolute absurd in it. I mean really an Indian (American not subcontinet, check with the Bureau of Indian Affairs this is the name they prefer) that is some kind of ninja/karate wizard? How much crazier does it need to get.
Then there is Blanche. Blanche once again has a decent story line, but with absurd characters. First they bring in every literary character you can think of that was existent in 17th to 18th century and then just go crazy. There is literally one scene where Cardinal Richelieu, Louis XIV, and Louis XIV's mom are snorting coke and running around a room chasing after a guy to kill him. What is even more crazy is the coke they snor is red and they just magically appear sometimes in front of the guy they are chasing like in that UPS commercial where the lady holds the door open for the business guy, who then goes to elevator and that same UPS lady is then exiting the elevator. Yeah. And of course like every French film there is a Gerarad Depardieu cameo. I kind of like the movie in a perverse way basically to laugh at it. I also own it to have on hand if I ever get high, I actually never ever plan on getting high, but this is the movie I want to watch if I do. I think it will actually make sense then.
Well I know the American film industry has plenty of horrible horrible movies: Gigli (2003), Battlefield Earth (2000) and Titanic (1997, Yes I said Titanic), but what really seperates the American film industry with the French film industry is WWII movies. I mean really any WWII movie in America is a cash cow, especially if it takes place in Europe. I cannot think of any bad American WWII movies that take place in Europe. Plenty of them that take place in the Pacific i.e. Pearl Harbor (2001). But here in France I have now gone to three really bad movies about WWII. I mean really bad.
The most recent one I went was tonight: Les indegens (2006). This is the best way to describe it: storyline of Glory (1989) but for Arabs, set in WWII, with an ending identical to Saving Private Ryan's beginning (1989). The movie is about the suffering of Algerians and others whow fought for France in WWII to help free France from the Nazis, but who were still treated like slaves almost. The ending does a flashforward of "60 years later" and shows the main character at the last battle scene they showed, where there is now a military cemetary and he finds the men that died in that fight. Wow doesn't that sound familiar. And then to really put closure to it they show him take a bus to his apartment (some city in France), take his shoes off, and sit on his bed. Yep that is the exact ending. I just wonder how can you go so wrong with a WWII movie where you kill Nazis? Everyone loves to see that, but somehow the French manage to do it.
And yes, while I wrote this I was still gassy and have been continually farting.
The real subject of this post is about French movies. Now France has a long history of films beginning with Les freres Lumieres. (Side note: why is it that every French invention is done by a pair ex: Lumieres (film industry), Curies (Medecine), and my favorite Montgolifieres (invented the hot air balloon, and the first object to carry man in the air.) Anyways, throughout time France has done some pretty great films Jeanne d'arc (circa 1898), Les Enfants du Paradis (1945), Mon Oncle (1958), and my favorite movie of all time Les Diaboliques (1955). (All dates are courtesy of IMDB where you can read about these movies as well.) In fact French cinema has helped create the film industry, revolutionizing it in certain eras and by recognizing certain films at the most celebrated film fesitval in the world at Cannes with the Palm d'Or.
Then there is the side that no one likes to talk about. The same French cinema has created such great classics has also created Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (1964); a film which I cannot say enough bad things about but think of West Side Story meets any Julia Roberts film. It is a musical that is so hard to sit through at the end you are either so zoned out you stay watching the TV for another 40 minutes before you realize you are watching nothing, or you have blood running from your ears. Then there are the genre like Le Pacte de Loupe (2001 Brotherhood of the Wolf) and Blanche (2002). Since some of you might have seen Brotherhood of the Wolf, I will start there. It is a typical French film in present day that has a decent story line with the absolute absurd in it. I mean really an Indian (American not subcontinet, check with the Bureau of Indian Affairs this is the name they prefer) that is some kind of ninja/karate wizard? How much crazier does it need to get.
Then there is Blanche. Blanche once again has a decent story line, but with absurd characters. First they bring in every literary character you can think of that was existent in 17th to 18th century and then just go crazy. There is literally one scene where Cardinal Richelieu, Louis XIV, and Louis XIV's mom are snorting coke and running around a room chasing after a guy to kill him. What is even more crazy is the coke they snor is red and they just magically appear sometimes in front of the guy they are chasing like in that UPS commercial where the lady holds the door open for the business guy, who then goes to elevator and that same UPS lady is then exiting the elevator. Yeah. And of course like every French film there is a Gerarad Depardieu cameo. I kind of like the movie in a perverse way basically to laugh at it. I also own it to have on hand if I ever get high, I actually never ever plan on getting high, but this is the movie I want to watch if I do. I think it will actually make sense then.
Well I know the American film industry has plenty of horrible horrible movies: Gigli (2003), Battlefield Earth (2000) and Titanic (1997, Yes I said Titanic), but what really seperates the American film industry with the French film industry is WWII movies. I mean really any WWII movie in America is a cash cow, especially if it takes place in Europe. I cannot think of any bad American WWII movies that take place in Europe. Plenty of them that take place in the Pacific i.e. Pearl Harbor (2001). But here in France I have now gone to three really bad movies about WWII. I mean really bad.
The most recent one I went was tonight: Les indegens (2006). This is the best way to describe it: storyline of Glory (1989) but for Arabs, set in WWII, with an ending identical to Saving Private Ryan's beginning (1989). The movie is about the suffering of Algerians and others whow fought for France in WWII to help free France from the Nazis, but who were still treated like slaves almost. The ending does a flashforward of "60 years later" and shows the main character at the last battle scene they showed, where there is now a military cemetary and he finds the men that died in that fight. Wow doesn't that sound familiar. And then to really put closure to it they show him take a bus to his apartment (some city in France), take his shoes off, and sit on his bed. Yep that is the exact ending. I just wonder how can you go so wrong with a WWII movie where you kill Nazis? Everyone loves to see that, but somehow the French manage to do it.
And yes, while I wrote this I was still gassy and have been continually farting.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Completely Oblivious
So I knew this post would come sooner than later but here it goes...
My family (only the men on my father's side) has a curse. No one actually ever physically put a curse on us, but I am pretty sure one of my ancestors did something that will affect all generations to come in my family. It is women.
My grandfather first got married when he was 30, he was born in the 1910s or 20s so 30 was extremely late. My father got married when he was 28. An improvement? Not quite. His first wife died shortly there after. Extremely sad but true. My brother got married at 29. Now most of you at this time might be saying, hey that is a pretty normal age to get married at, what are you complaining about? Well they never had a girlfriend before they got married. My father had 2 dates before he got married the first time. My brother had 3.
So then there is me. I am 24. I had 2 dates in high school, both went miserably bad...one was a blind date (neither of us liked each other) and the other was a dance where we never danced together. Then came college.
One night after going to a bar a friend and I had to watch a movie for a class the next day. One of my friend's housemates decided to watch it with us, even though she did not understand French. When my friend finally left, this housemate kissed me and so on and so forth. This eventually led to an on again off again quais relationship for about 3 months. What happened after 3 months? I finally moved into my apartment and called Sophie (that name sounds good in this story). Sophie said that we should go out to lunch, but since she had no car I would have to pick her up, she lived about 40 minutes away. This was no problem. I was going to pick her up take her to my place where she was going to stay for the next couple of days. Well when I arrive at her place she is sitting on the porch. I approach and she does not say much. She then tells me I actually had you drive down here to tell you that this isn't going to work anymore.
So at this point I am completely confused. Yesterday she had told me she was looking forward to coming up and seeing my palce, etc, and now she is seperating. I of course ask why and she says you don't want to know. Well this really pisses me off, now I think not only is she breaking up with me, but I either did something completely wrong or she thinks there is something completely wrong with me and if that is the case, I really do want to know. So after much prodding she tells me she is sleeping with another guy. Now being an extremely faithful guy this hurt, but what hurt even more is the fact that she wouldn't even sleep with me. So she will sleep with a guy that she has known for a week, but not the one she was dating for 3 months.
Flash forward about a year, I am dating another girl. We had gone on two dates (wouldn't really call it dating her, but you get the point). Date 3 ends up back at my place watching Old School together. Now Old School for me is one of the funniest movies ever. Even though I had seen it numerous times I was too enthralled in the movie to realize that this girl was pratically throwing herself at me. I didn't even kiss her. Needless to say after that date she broke it off.
Two summers ago, after work a girl invites me out for drinks. Now this is really where you get to see how stupid I am when it comes to women. We go to the bar where she realizes she "accidently" left her ID back at her place, so we should go to her place to drink. It is about 12:30 at this point. We get to her place where we have a beer. She then shows me her apartment and makes it a key point to show me her bedroom. We go back to the couch and have another beer. She complains her feet hurt.
So now that you know how I am around women lets recap then have a multiple choice. Lady from work wants to have some drinks with me. "Forgets" her ID. Go to her place. Have beer. Shows me her bedroom. Complains feet hurt.
What did Furry do?
A. Did Furry move in closer and tell her he could help take the pain away.
B. Did Furry offer to massage her feet.
C. Did Furry try to get her to drink more just to make sure all inhibitions were gone.
D. Or did Furry say, "Well you said you have to get up early tomorrow, I better go so you can get some sleep."
If you did not guess D then I am guessing you have problems spelling your name correctly. That is exactly what I did. I am an idiot.
So this brings me to my new dilema....
My host here in Paris has a 19 year old daughter. She is extremely attractive but very timid. We went on a long walk for several hours and we have talked when she is around. The odd thing is though she always smiles at me and occaissionally will just stand and watch me if I am in the kitchen, not saying anything.
Now avoiding the obivous problems of dating a 19 year old Parisian and being the daughter of my host, I ask what am I to make of this? I have given descriptions of my incompentant decison making when it comes to women (and those are only the most obvious blunders believe me there are others). Is she just being extremely nice to this blundering idiot american, or is she trying to send out signals. Because if she is trying to send out signals, I really should just wear a sign saying, "Sorry reception is down inoperative and will not be working for at least 6 more years." I figure when I am 30 the curse is either lifted or I am so depressed I just marry the first thing that says yes. Notice I said thing, so if there are robotic wifes 6 years from now, I better stock up on WD 40.
And the ending that everyone loves, What Weird/Horrible/Embarassing Thing Happened to Furry today?
Well this morning I took a shower/bath, its a European thing that I hate. Anyways half way through I realize the water is not draining. Yes the bathtub is clogged. My host does not have a plunger either. Oh and she just left for Canada for 8 days. So I had to find a way to unclog the bathtub in France. After trying to put a hanger down the drain, I finally went out and after much searching found a Drain-O product that worked.
And no it was not from all of my fur.
My family (only the men on my father's side) has a curse. No one actually ever physically put a curse on us, but I am pretty sure one of my ancestors did something that will affect all generations to come in my family. It is women.
My grandfather first got married when he was 30, he was born in the 1910s or 20s so 30 was extremely late. My father got married when he was 28. An improvement? Not quite. His first wife died shortly there after. Extremely sad but true. My brother got married at 29. Now most of you at this time might be saying, hey that is a pretty normal age to get married at, what are you complaining about? Well they never had a girlfriend before they got married. My father had 2 dates before he got married the first time. My brother had 3.
So then there is me. I am 24. I had 2 dates in high school, both went miserably bad...one was a blind date (neither of us liked each other) and the other was a dance where we never danced together. Then came college.
One night after going to a bar a friend and I had to watch a movie for a class the next day. One of my friend's housemates decided to watch it with us, even though she did not understand French. When my friend finally left, this housemate kissed me and so on and so forth. This eventually led to an on again off again quais relationship for about 3 months. What happened after 3 months? I finally moved into my apartment and called Sophie (that name sounds good in this story). Sophie said that we should go out to lunch, but since she had no car I would have to pick her up, she lived about 40 minutes away. This was no problem. I was going to pick her up take her to my place where she was going to stay for the next couple of days. Well when I arrive at her place she is sitting on the porch. I approach and she does not say much. She then tells me I actually had you drive down here to tell you that this isn't going to work anymore.
So at this point I am completely confused. Yesterday she had told me she was looking forward to coming up and seeing my palce, etc, and now she is seperating. I of course ask why and she says you don't want to know. Well this really pisses me off, now I think not only is she breaking up with me, but I either did something completely wrong or she thinks there is something completely wrong with me and if that is the case, I really do want to know. So after much prodding she tells me she is sleeping with another guy. Now being an extremely faithful guy this hurt, but what hurt even more is the fact that she wouldn't even sleep with me. So she will sleep with a guy that she has known for a week, but not the one she was dating for 3 months.
Flash forward about a year, I am dating another girl. We had gone on two dates (wouldn't really call it dating her, but you get the point). Date 3 ends up back at my place watching Old School together. Now Old School for me is one of the funniest movies ever. Even though I had seen it numerous times I was too enthralled in the movie to realize that this girl was pratically throwing herself at me. I didn't even kiss her. Needless to say after that date she broke it off.
Two summers ago, after work a girl invites me out for drinks. Now this is really where you get to see how stupid I am when it comes to women. We go to the bar where she realizes she "accidently" left her ID back at her place, so we should go to her place to drink. It is about 12:30 at this point. We get to her place where we have a beer. She then shows me her apartment and makes it a key point to show me her bedroom. We go back to the couch and have another beer. She complains her feet hurt.
So now that you know how I am around women lets recap then have a multiple choice. Lady from work wants to have some drinks with me. "Forgets" her ID. Go to her place. Have beer. Shows me her bedroom. Complains feet hurt.
What did Furry do?
A. Did Furry move in closer and tell her he could help take the pain away.
B. Did Furry offer to massage her feet.
C. Did Furry try to get her to drink more just to make sure all inhibitions were gone.
D. Or did Furry say, "Well you said you have to get up early tomorrow, I better go so you can get some sleep."
If you did not guess D then I am guessing you have problems spelling your name correctly. That is exactly what I did. I am an idiot.
So this brings me to my new dilema....
My host here in Paris has a 19 year old daughter. She is extremely attractive but very timid. We went on a long walk for several hours and we have talked when she is around. The odd thing is though she always smiles at me and occaissionally will just stand and watch me if I am in the kitchen, not saying anything.
Now avoiding the obivous problems of dating a 19 year old Parisian and being the daughter of my host, I ask what am I to make of this? I have given descriptions of my incompentant decison making when it comes to women (and those are only the most obvious blunders believe me there are others). Is she just being extremely nice to this blundering idiot american, or is she trying to send out signals. Because if she is trying to send out signals, I really should just wear a sign saying, "Sorry reception is down inoperative and will not be working for at least 6 more years." I figure when I am 30 the curse is either lifted or I am so depressed I just marry the first thing that says yes. Notice I said thing, so if there are robotic wifes 6 years from now, I better stock up on WD 40.
And the ending that everyone loves, What Weird/Horrible/Embarassing Thing Happened to Furry today?
Well this morning I took a shower/bath, its a European thing that I hate. Anyways half way through I realize the water is not draining. Yes the bathtub is clogged. My host does not have a plunger either. Oh and she just left for Canada for 8 days. So I had to find a way to unclog the bathtub in France. After trying to put a hanger down the drain, I finally went out and after much searching found a Drain-O product that worked.
And no it was not from all of my fur.
Friday, September 22, 2006
To all of those that think I am ass ;) this should cheer you up
Today was a great day to explain what a typical day is for me:
First off I had nothing to do, this is because the school that sent me had done nothinig, and the school here in Paris does nothing. I am trying to set up an externship but the lawyer is always gone, so nothing for me to do.
Lunch time, the host mom I am staying with is a health nut, I am not. Today I had lentils with curry and barley. To some this may sound tasty, but I am from Iowa and grew up on meat. Notice I did not say potatoes too, just meat. I have slightly carnivoristic tendicies. (I think I just made up two words there) I actually like to call myself a meatawheatatarian (love that word) because I love to eat meat and obviously wheat products.
First Class: I had my first class of the trip, was originally told they began Sept. 4th but they really began Sept 22. I get there and realize I am the youngest in the class by at least 10 years and that is being generous. The professor rambles on for 3 hours about stories from his past and because my French is still quite rusty, I only understand half at best. Then as I get up, I find out my chair had a sticky substance to it and my pants stuck to it. Thankfully it was not super sticky and was able to slowly peel them off of the chair.
What is the perfect nightcap? Try getting hit in the nuts on the Metro by some lady's bag when the Metro stops inexplicably in the middle of two stops. After I double over in pain, it starts right up again.
There you have it...that sums me up pretty well.
First off I had nothing to do, this is because the school that sent me had done nothinig, and the school here in Paris does nothing. I am trying to set up an externship but the lawyer is always gone, so nothing for me to do.
Lunch time, the host mom I am staying with is a health nut, I am not. Today I had lentils with curry and barley. To some this may sound tasty, but I am from Iowa and grew up on meat. Notice I did not say potatoes too, just meat. I have slightly carnivoristic tendicies. (I think I just made up two words there) I actually like to call myself a meatawheatatarian (love that word) because I love to eat meat and obviously wheat products.
First Class: I had my first class of the trip, was originally told they began Sept. 4th but they really began Sept 22. I get there and realize I am the youngest in the class by at least 10 years and that is being generous. The professor rambles on for 3 hours about stories from his past and because my French is still quite rusty, I only understand half at best. Then as I get up, I find out my chair had a sticky substance to it and my pants stuck to it. Thankfully it was not super sticky and was able to slowly peel them off of the chair.
What is the perfect nightcap? Try getting hit in the nuts on the Metro by some lady's bag when the Metro stops inexplicably in the middle of two stops. After I double over in pain, it starts right up again.
There you have it...that sums me up pretty well.
And the lightbulb comes on
So I have been sitting in my room thinking, mainly because I have nothing else to do, when the lightbulb finally came on. No not literally, although it would be nice to have some light in this room. I finally realized, I don't have to speak French here. I know that may sound stupid, but being a French major ingrained into my head that I must speak and only speak French over here. When I was studying here in undergrad it made sense to learn the language and all. But I am not here to learn the language right now; I am here to learn the law or law related items. Thus if a professor wants to make a fool out of himself by speaking broken jabberwockey English to me, so be it. I will laugh inside my head and think what an idiot, which is what they probably do when I speak French.
On a completely different note....I nearly got into a fight. This is the second time in my life I have nearly been in a fight and oddly enough they were at the same place, the foot of the hill of the Sacre Couer at Montmatre. Standing like vultures at the staircase leading up to the cathedral are vendors of stolen or cheap tourist crap. Normally I can walk right by these people without a problem, but not here. No, no they won't let you. This is how it went down....
Man approaches me and says: Hey big boss (big boss usually means the big honcho in a working place but on the street it means hey you American with lots of money)
Me: (ignore him)
Man: (approaches) Hey big boss why no say hello
Me: (ignore him)
Man: (puts hand on my shoulder to stop me) Hey big boss I say hello what your problem?
Me: (note this is translated if you want the original French version please send a self addressed envelope to...) I can speak f***ing french, I am not a stupid idiot. Get your f***ing hand off of me.
Man: (switches to French) You have a problem with me? What language do you speak? What is your f***ing problem?
Me: (still in French) My f***ing problem is you are f***ing touching me, now let go before something happens... (he lets go finally) (I then say) Tais-toi, pute (there is no real good English translation, but it is basically the worse thing you can say to someone in French think of it as transalted as such, "Shut your s**t eating a**hole you motherf***ing c**t." But it is so succint and demeaning in French, I love it.)
So I walk away while he swears at me. The other time was when I was guiding my parents around Paris and at the same place one of the same type of people grabs my mom to try and sell her something. I swiftly twisted his arm and cursed at him in French. He got the point.
And Arbusto (since I am pretty sure you are the only one reading this) here is my football prediction for this weekend:
Bears 31 Vikes 6
On a completely different note....I nearly got into a fight. This is the second time in my life I have nearly been in a fight and oddly enough they were at the same place, the foot of the hill of the Sacre Couer at Montmatre. Standing like vultures at the staircase leading up to the cathedral are vendors of stolen or cheap tourist crap. Normally I can walk right by these people without a problem, but not here. No, no they won't let you. This is how it went down....
Man approaches me and says: Hey big boss (big boss usually means the big honcho in a working place but on the street it means hey you American with lots of money)
Me: (ignore him)
Man: (approaches) Hey big boss why no say hello
Me: (ignore him)
Man: (puts hand on my shoulder to stop me) Hey big boss I say hello what your problem?
Me: (note this is translated if you want the original French version please send a self addressed envelope to...) I can speak f***ing french, I am not a stupid idiot. Get your f***ing hand off of me.
Man: (switches to French) You have a problem with me? What language do you speak? What is your f***ing problem?
Me: (still in French) My f***ing problem is you are f***ing touching me, now let go before something happens... (he lets go finally) (I then say) Tais-toi, pute (there is no real good English translation, but it is basically the worse thing you can say to someone in French think of it as transalted as such, "Shut your s**t eating a**hole you motherf***ing c**t." But it is so succint and demeaning in French, I love it.)
So I walk away while he swears at me. The other time was when I was guiding my parents around Paris and at the same place one of the same type of people grabs my mom to try and sell her something. I swiftly twisted his arm and cursed at him in French. He got the point.
And Arbusto (since I am pretty sure you are the only one reading this) here is my football prediction for this weekend:
Bears 31 Vikes 6
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
I hate Destiny
So as I was walking to the grocery store today (Large side note: Grocery stores suck in Paris, they have no selection or variety and have very few things on the shelves...horrible, you cannot find fresh spices anywhere. back to the story sorry) I had an epiphany.
Either I am very lucky or God really hates me. Most are going to say the latter of the two.
My quartier (neighborhood) here in Paris is known for one thing, it is the wedding dress capital of Paris. The street I live on is filled with shop after shop of cheap tuxedos and bridal gowns.
I am lucky theory: If I had a long-term girlfriend one could say this is destiny telling me something. What bigger hint could you have? But as you now know I do not have a long-term girlfriend nor have I ever, thus leading to...
God really hates me theory: God must really hate me to put me on a street where I am constantly reminded that I don't have and have never had a long-term relationship. It is a constant reminder of that fact. It is almost like a scrwany school kid walking to school that knows every time he passes a certain corner on his way to school, he will get punched in the gut by the school bully. I am that scrawny school kid.
Speaking of which I have now lost 15lbs, thus proving my theory that the best diet for any male (notice only male) is to live in Europe for awhile. For some reason every American female I have known that has lived here for awhile actually puts on weight, while every male I have known loses weight and lots of it. I once knew a professional dancer that looked like she had 3 kids and lived in a trailor park by the time she had left France.
Tip if ever visiting Paris: Avoid stepping in all liquids in the street. The only time it is okay is if you are following street cleaner....seriously trust me on this one.
Random Dream: So two nights ago I dreamt that I saw Patrick Ewing and his wife driving a small European car on the Left Bank. That was it, that was the dream.
UPDATE on drunken President Email: Come to find out that only I received this email, everyone else received the full version. This just adds credence to the theory that God really hates me. If you have read comments to the previous post you will understand this.
Either I am very lucky or God really hates me. Most are going to say the latter of the two.
My quartier (neighborhood) here in Paris is known for one thing, it is the wedding dress capital of Paris. The street I live on is filled with shop after shop of cheap tuxedos and bridal gowns.
I am lucky theory: If I had a long-term girlfriend one could say this is destiny telling me something. What bigger hint could you have? But as you now know I do not have a long-term girlfriend nor have I ever, thus leading to...
God really hates me theory: God must really hate me to put me on a street where I am constantly reminded that I don't have and have never had a long-term relationship. It is a constant reminder of that fact. It is almost like a scrwany school kid walking to school that knows every time he passes a certain corner on his way to school, he will get punched in the gut by the school bully. I am that scrawny school kid.
Speaking of which I have now lost 15lbs, thus proving my theory that the best diet for any male (notice only male) is to live in Europe for awhile. For some reason every American female I have known that has lived here for awhile actually puts on weight, while every male I have known loses weight and lots of it. I once knew a professional dancer that looked like she had 3 kids and lived in a trailor park by the time she had left France.
Tip if ever visiting Paris: Avoid stepping in all liquids in the street. The only time it is okay is if you are following street cleaner....seriously trust me on this one.
Random Dream: So two nights ago I dreamt that I saw Patrick Ewing and his wife driving a small European car on the Left Bank. That was it, that was the dream.
UPDATE on drunken President Email: Come to find out that only I received this email, everyone else received the full version. This just adds credence to the theory that God really hates me. If you have read comments to the previous post you will understand this.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Drunken e-mail from College President???
Okay so this is the email I received from my University's President, yes President....
"wing the Piper spirit by supporting our athletic teams and I encourage you to check out the Hamline website for times and locations of the competitions. It's been one week since the the launch of the strategic planning process at Convocation last Frida"
I did not change any text nor remove or add any punctuation. Who lets an email like that get released, doesn't the secretary or administrator check those things over first? No wonder I haven't had any job offers if the university President writes e-mails like that.
And yes it is still f'ing hot in Paris.
"wing the Piper spirit by supporting our athletic teams and I encourage you to check out the Hamline website for times and locations of the competitions. It's been one week since the the launch of the strategic planning process at Convocation last Frida"
I did not change any text nor remove or add any punctuation. Who lets an email like that get released, doesn't the secretary or administrator check those things over first? No wonder I haven't had any job offers if the university President writes e-mails like that.
And yes it is still f'ing hot in Paris.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Baggage, Prague, and other ramblings
So I said my next post would be about compensation and all of that...I lied, get used to it. AA found my bag even though it literally had over 6 tags from differnet airlines and places on it. Everything was inside, nothing damaged, still pissed about it though.
I decided to go for a visit to Prague. That is the Czech Republic if anyone other than Arbusto decides to read this, not the Czechleslovkia. Although I did meet a very cute Slovakian girl with an Irish accent. The women there are incredible...I can't say more without having to clear my keyboard off after I think about them. The architecture was pretty sweet too. I will not bore you all with photos, just my words. I also went and saw a Torture Museum, cue scary music. I was thinking it was going to be a ripoff of like one cool thing and then a bunch of pictures and descriptions. There were actually a ton of cool things in it including a saw. What pretell do they do with a saw? Glad you asked, they would hold "witches" upside down by their ankles and saw. Yes that means they would start between the legs and saw to the head, and for some reason it was considered a humane form of torture. I think the ol' Prez would have liked those times.
What else to update you with....oh yeah my slingbox is not working. It is the contraption where I can watch my TV back home from my computer. What do I have to do to fix it only send a CD I have here home, buy a completely new router, and then have someone connect it from there while talking to my ISP to open a port so I can watch it. And my family cannot even figure out how to work the remotes of my TV. I have no idea who will be able to do this for me.
Crazy bird updates:
I have a pigeon nesting outside my window with two baby pigeons (what the hell do you call them). I have watched them grow up from hatchlings till now where they can fly, problem is I opened my window and one nearly flew in before I hurridly shut my window. Stupid pigeons.
I also nearly had a bird poop on me again, well not me as so much as my ice cream cone. The scary part was if I had not been looking I would not have noticed and would have eaten...well you get the point. It missed by centimeters and for all of you incapable of learning the metric system, tough.
I decided to go for a visit to Prague. That is the Czech Republic if anyone other than Arbusto decides to read this, not the Czechleslovkia. Although I did meet a very cute Slovakian girl with an Irish accent. The women there are incredible...I can't say more without having to clear my keyboard off after I think about them. The architecture was pretty sweet too. I will not bore you all with photos, just my words. I also went and saw a Torture Museum, cue scary music. I was thinking it was going to be a ripoff of like one cool thing and then a bunch of pictures and descriptions. There were actually a ton of cool things in it including a saw. What pretell do they do with a saw? Glad you asked, they would hold "witches" upside down by their ankles and saw. Yes that means they would start between the legs and saw to the head, and for some reason it was considered a humane form of torture. I think the ol' Prez would have liked those times.
What else to update you with....oh yeah my slingbox is not working. It is the contraption where I can watch my TV back home from my computer. What do I have to do to fix it only send a CD I have here home, buy a completely new router, and then have someone connect it from there while talking to my ISP to open a port so I can watch it. And my family cannot even figure out how to work the remotes of my TV. I have no idea who will be able to do this for me.
Crazy bird updates:
I have a pigeon nesting outside my window with two baby pigeons (what the hell do you call them). I have watched them grow up from hatchlings till now where they can fly, problem is I opened my window and one nearly flew in before I hurridly shut my window. Stupid pigeons.
I also nearly had a bird poop on me again, well not me as so much as my ice cream cone. The scary part was if I had not been looking I would not have noticed and would have eaten...well you get the point. It missed by centimeters and for all of you incapable of learning the metric system, tough.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Introduction
I am essentially a real life George Costanza from bulging wallet to being short and stocky to even wanting to wear sweat pants all of the time if society would let me. I once had a brand new coat whose zipper would always get stuck.
This blog will be about weird and somewhat comical happenings in my life with the occaisional rant about random things. I love to rant.
So how should I begin? Let me first stay that I am in my first week of a 4 month study abroad program in Paris. I am taking a semester of law school to study French/International Alternative Dispute Resolution practices. Basically means I get 4 months off of law school to sit and listen to peoples problems and try to give them a solution that works for both parties.
So what event has happened to me so far? Well I currently do not have my luggage. Essentially it goes like this...I arrived in Paris from Minneapolis via Dallas. My luggage did not. The employees at Paris said it would probably be on the next flight over from Dallas, so the next day. This made sense, since I only had about an hour between flights from Minneapolis to Paris at Dallas. I made the gate when they started boarding. No problem. It was kind of awkward though showing up to my host family without any bags.
The next day. I call American Airlines, no bag. They say it got sent to Dublin. Yes the land of shamrocks, 4 leaf clovers, and Guiness. Why was my bag sent to Dublin? American couldn't explain that one. They did say though that Air Lingus would fly it over to Paris on the next flight, give my bag to Air France (some weird airline regulation), and then give it to American. They said this would take 1 to 2 days.
I guess at this point I should say I stupidly forgot to pack an extra pair of clothes in my carry-on, like I always do when flying. Why? Well my "logical" thought process told me, "if you can't have your toiletries on board you will stink anyways, so why pack clothes?" Yes why would I pack extra clothes....I am an idiot.
So recap: me no bag, bag getting drunk and lucky in Ireland, I am hating American Airlines.
I let two days past and try and call American. No one answers entire day. I finally, on day 5, go to the airport, which costs 18 Euros to do. I begin going through the chain of people until I finally make it to the lost baggage people. They call Air Lingus. Air Lingus has no record of my bag ever going on a flight from Dublin to Paris (even though the computers show it has) and has no record of it in Dublin either. Shit.
American then tells me that my bag is "hors de systeme" translation, "I am fucked and my bag is gone forever". It really means that my bag is no longer being tracked by any computers because they don't know where it is at. At this point I demand to have the phone given to me and numbers I can call to Dallas with so I can get some answers. The American represenative got mad and said please in a questioning matter, meaning she wanted me to say please. I instead said, "Merci" and took the phone from her. Amercian in US tells me they will send me a form that I have to fill out, wait 12 weeks, and if nothing happens I will get my case handed over to the claims department. Yes you read that correctly 12 weeks. After more "discussions" I finally hang up.
I decided to go to the zoo to take a nice long walk and calm down. The day before I had bought two shirts to tide me over (not realizing my bag was completely lost). At the zoo to top off a wonderful day what happens....
a seagull shits on me. I was wearing a black shirt. What can be more symbolic then having a flying object shit on me after finding out American had lost my luggage forever.
Next post....Airline compensation and shopping spree in Paris
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