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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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