To avoid spoilers for those (Carey...ahem) who have not yet read or finished HP6, I have set up a team blog called "The Room of Requirement." Some of you have already been invited to participate. If you would like to join as a member, let me know and I will send you an invitation. Being a member will allow you to post to the blog. However, even if you are not a member, you can read and comment.

The addres is http://rordiscussion.blogspot.com/

I forgot my glasses today. It is the first time I have been to work without them and I realize just how much my eyesight has deteriorated. My brain can no longer correct it. I was always so proud of my superhuman eyesight (i tested for 20/10 vision when I was small). Now, with the appearance of my first white hairs, I find myself also losing my sight.

But, bonus, they feel so bad for me, sitting here squinting at the screen and looking confused, that they are letting me leave early. So, maybe being disabled isn't that bad.

So, for those that are curious, I am exactly half-way through HP6. Just at Christmas break. So far so good.

I was just online at the same time as Rivers Cuomo and it was pretty much the best thing that's happened to me since buying tea next to Eddie Izzard at Mariage Freres.

So next time you think I have an interesting life, spend a moment thinking about this.

If anyone has ever seen the Futurama episode "The Day the Earth Stood Stupid" then they may just have a bit of an idea of how my work day went after a weekend spent in London. Basically, in this episode a race of brain-sucking aliens descend upon the earth and create an intellectual wasteland. I'll admit that I didn't start the trip out in the most efficient way, drinking a bottle of champagne at the Fireman's Ball (which I have given the epithet "The Bastille Day Ass-Grabbing Extravanganza, perhaps I will post more about that later), weaving home at 4 am and then getting up at 8:30 for a breakfast meeting. I arrived in London and immediately consumed huge quantities of kebabs and curry, which was delicious to the tongue but quite violent to my increasingly prissy appetite. I allowed myself to sleep in on Friday and took it easy, flopping around in Green Park most of the afternoon reading and people watching.

But then everything started to spiral out-of-control. The beer was free-flowing, Harry Potter was bought, although I must admit I did not end up donning a Hermione costume, London was traversed multiple times in ankle-twisting madness, more beers were drunk. I slept in a room next to a big pile of records and a steaming set of decks and underneath what I will refer to as the "Breakfast Club of Clapham North". Imagine dozing off in circles at 4 am only to be woken at 8 by a group of DJs making the bedroom upstairs an after-after. Offered a cup of tea by the housemate referring to himself as "slightly right of Ghengis Khan" and who I simply call "paddle pool boy," I thought I would dig into Harry Potter in the garden, relaxing next to said paddle pool. Until a cigarette fell on me. Then I moved inside to watch TV, finding out that at least 5/6 of the house had no idea who the DJs upstairs were.

All-in-all a good time was had (negative experiences being emphasized mostly for their narrative value). I had originally thought of showing up for the end of pub quiz Sunday at the Highlander, but, slightly sunburned and suffering from a major case of the stupids, I hardly thought I would be an asset. Today has been a rough one, my new Baritone voice giving away my debauchery in front of my chic colleagues. I have to give a class tonight, which will be a challenge. I can only look forward to some HP before bed and AssRay's return tomorrow evening. And hoping my brain is sent FedEx for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Bastille Day. That means a 4-day vacation for me and I will be taking advantage by heading up to London to participate in a virtual cornucopia of diversions with MizMaya. So today was a little like the day before summer vacation in elementary school.

To make the day go by faster, 3 of my co-workers and I went to have lunch at the little outdoor cafe in the Tuileries garden (think fountains and sculptures). I had a delicious pasta salad with shaved parmesan and pine nuts and finally felt comfortable enough to share a little bit about myself. (Those who know me may be surprised to know that I am quite shy and reserved in France. It takes me a while to really be able to feel people out.) It was about 80 degrees and sunny with one of those divine Parisian breezes that didn't even seem to just be pushing the pollution around. And to top it off, my department boss paid for me. It has been a long time since I have had such a perfect moment. And I needed it today, as AssRay left for New York this morning and I had a mild case of separation anxiety this morning. Tonight is the Fireman's Ball, so I must go get "gussied up" as my mom would say. Those firemen won't know what hit them!

AssRay introduced me to this site. Yes, it is a way to procrastinate, but it also really makes you think about what you want to get out of life.

Check out the 43 things that I want to do or that AssRay wants to do.

We all have those moments. Those moments when someone says something to you that makes your blood boil. That ruffles your feathers. Gets your knickers in a twist. Those moments when the shock of the pure misanthropy of this person's hateful blathering disarms your response mecanism momentarily. When you simply stare blankly back at them, hoping that someone or something will save you. A spilt drink, a riot, an earthquake. While waiting for Batman to appear today, I was simply able to mutter a quick "Really?" before ducking away as non-discreetly as possible to seek AssRay's help and protection.

For hours after, you replay the scene in your head, each time coming up with newer and wittier responses: some are funny, others guilt-ridden, others threatening, and the best ones simply mean, aiming to put the culprit into the same state of jaw-dropping shock that you were in.

I live in France, so it is very possible that I experience this more than others--the language and cultural barriers incapicitating my ability to be assertive as well as the simple fact that the French are, well, frank. And often not very careful to consider others' feelings.

Today, I was at a circumcision, which in itself is a bizarre and disturbing ritual in which you are given cloves in order to keep yourself from fainting. I refused to watch. Even considering the tradition and the anesthesia and the fact that it was a doctor performing the act, watching someone's genitals get mutilated is not exactly my cup of tea at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.

Eating an apple turnover and enjoying my coffee after the baby stopped bleeding and the prayers were said, I mentioned to one of the cousin's (who lives in London) that I myself will be going to London next week. When he asks why, AssRay blurted out that it is for the release of Harry Potter. I knew that this reason does not fly in France and so I laughingly explained that that is not the real reason, but a happy coincidence. AssRay quickly disappeared into the crowd and left me to defend myself. The group of self-conscious, conformist 20-somethings I find myself trapped amongst starts in on Harry Potter, mostly criticizing the French translation, which is ok. But one, the one who lives in London and has a girlfriend who looks like a young Aunt Petunia, starts simply saying "Harry Potter" in a sneering, mocking manner and then says; "He's popular with adults in the US and the UK because Americans and English people are so ridiculously childish."

"Really?"

Now, if this were I movie, I would yell cut at this point and add in the lines I came up with during the walk home. "If being childish means knowing to have fun, than yes, we are happily more childish than the French. But I hardly consider living with your parents until you are 25, when you finally find you first job and move into a studio that they own, criteria for maturity."

And it is precisely this ability to alter my personal history that keeps me writing.

We bought our tickets to Vilnius today!

So this is the Mandounette Travel Itinerary for the coming months.

Mid-July: London calling

Last 2 weeks of August: Lithuania

First 2 weeks of November: Chicago, Arkansas, and everywhere in between.

The Holidays: Rochester and NYC, as usual.

And if any of you are going on vacation, be sure to send me a postcard so I can add it to the bar. (When you come to visit, you will see what I mean.) Just let me know if you need my address.

So, apparently there has been a flurry of activity amongst this network of bloggers that I am at once an integral part (I appear on some sidebars and they on mine) and a total outsider. They are extreme bloggers, filled with the passion of self-expression, posting at a rate that puts Mandounette to shame as both a blogger and a reader. I disappear for a few days and find dozens of new and thoughtful posts, so rich that I can no longer keep up with my 15 minute end of the day blog reading cooldown. But there has been this contagion of book lists spreading through these friendly blogs.

I would post my own list, but with my commute spent weaving in and out of Vespas and cars instead of cuddled in a corner of the 8 line, my reading time has been significantly decreased. But I want in on this list thing. So, here is my list. Slightly different. I don't expect anyone to read them. I may not even read them. I am reading Birds of America by Lorrie Moore (a ctina and David Sedaris recommendation) as I impatiently await the new Harry Potter, and, if things go my way, my down time will be spent with a pile of Lithunian authors and tour books before I set sail for Vilnius.

But here is my list variation.

Top 5 Books Found in the Garbage on Rue Oberkampf Today

• Early Asimov, a collection of his early short stories


• Also Asimov, Fantastic Voyage


• Molière, L'Ecole des femmes


• Rousseau, Discours sur l'origine et les fondements de l'inégalité parmi les hommes (Discourse on the Origin of Inequality)


• Wells, The Time Machine

They are dusty. The Rousseau looks like it has chicken pox. I had to wrestle a model for The Time Machine (apparently she was a geek model). A greedy young man nearly kicked an old lady as he threw himself head first into one of the bins. There is nothing like free litterature to bring out the animal in everyone.

AssRay and I have finally synchronized our vacation time (the last 2 weeks of August) which means we can stop fantasizing and actually put Operation Fumbling Tourists into action. As of last night, we seemed to have settled upon 2 weeks in Israel and I was actually getting pretty excited about it--the Dead Sea, the Mount of Olives, the coral reef of the Red Sea, etc. However, looking at flight prices kind of dampened my enthusiasm. Looked like we would have to pay about 600 euros a person to get to Tel Aviv, with a layover in Vienna. But we would pay very little for hotels, as we can stay with Ste's family in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, splurging just a little for the touristy hedonism of Eilat. And I hope to down falafels like scoops of gelato.

But another opportunity has presented itself--a weird yet somehow seductive alternative. On August 20 my former boss and good friend will be presenting the world premiere of his "performance oratorio in four colors," (in collaboration with a lecherous Italian painter who once guided me through the Barnett Newman retrospective in Philly), titled "Machunas." For those that are curious, it is based on the life of George Maciunas, the founder of the Fluxus movement. Here's a link to the official Web site. www.machunas.com

So where will this all be going down?

Well, Vilnius of course.

In fact, it will be a central event during the 11th annual Christopher Arts Festival, which takes place in the streets and buidlings of the Lithuanian capital. (Yes, Vilnius is in Lithuania, for those who a baffled by former Soviet Union geography.)

I have never had a burning desire to explore the Baltic countries, it seems a little too Patty-and-Selma-Bouvier as a tourist destination. But I have witnessed the genesis of this project and would be thrilled to be at its premiere. Not to mention to have the opportunity to throw back a few midus (ricockulously strong Lithuanian liquor) with some good friends.

I did a little bit of research. In Lithuania, some of the biggest tourist attractions include a giant Soviet-era, still operational nuclear power plant, a statue honoring Frank Zappa, a hill covered in tens of thousands of homemade devotional crosses, and a sandbar peninsula (not too different geographically from the Outer Banks of North Carolina) that juts into the Baltic. Oh, and did I mention that there is also world-famous beer, vodka, and flavored liquors? And that you can still find hostel accommodations for little more that $2 a night?

So will we trade the Red Sea for the Baltic? Will I be eating gelatinous potato dough instead of falafels? Drinking Kalnapilis instead of Maccabee?

To be continued...