Monday, January 16, 2006
New Year's Resolution (inspired by Ctina)
In the year 2006 I resolve to: |
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Pack your Handi-snacks and liver salts...
We're going drinking!
Finally, WikiHow tells us how to prevent a hangover.
Someone should tell my brother about the additional marketing angle this could add to his newly invented Kraft Crumbles, which we all received a package of in our Christmas stockings this year.
Finally, WikiHow tells us how to prevent a hangover.
Someone should tell my brother about the additional marketing angle this could add to his newly invented Kraft Crumbles, which we all received a package of in our Christmas stockings this year.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
All hail Gluttons!
My chemical imbalance got the best of me yesterday, as I boarded the 8 line at my university stop to chug two stops to the terminus, to the pot of sunshine at the end of the line : Creteil-Soleil. Those of you who have visions of Paris as full of little specialty shops (one for your bread, one for your fish, one for your equitable commerce goods, one for your homemade toys, one for your robots, one for your clown shoes, etc.*), are correct. Of course, Paris is also the birthplace of the department store, Bon Marche opening during the Belle Epoque, and I must say, department stores are magical here. Galeries-Lafayettes has the world's largest lingerie department, which I inevitably drag all of my visitors to. For some reason one square block of underwear is more impressive to me than a pithy roomful of Monets.
But we are no longer in Paris. We are in Creteil. Remember all that news about cars burning in France? Yeah, we're in Creteil, where I go to university. And Creteil-Soleil, literally the sun of Creteil, is a mall worthy of New Jersey, of the Chicago suburbs even. And yesterday was the first day of the semi-annual sales. And I needed shoes.
The moment I got off the metro and was carried away by the current toward the doors, I knew I would need my armor. I turned up my iPod, prayed to iGod and made a bee-line for the shoe stores. Except that I didn't exactly know where the shoe stores were and there aren't those convenient little mall maps all over the place like in the US. So I wondered through the 3 floors of consumer gluttony, eyes-wide open, each store like freakshow booth. Women tearing sweaters out of each other's hands. People whose tiny frames had become obese with boxes and bags, trying to shove through the entrance of yet another store.
I came upon the first shoe store, only to find women on the floor weeding through a pile of shoes, that had most certainly not been on the floor at the beginning of the day. Next store I remember all too well. They were the ones responsible for the pinky toe homicide of 2004. I finally stumble upon Andre, my old standby, and there they are. The world's most perfect pair of red sneakers...for only 24 euros. I pause a moment to reflect. I know full well that buying these shoes completes my French transformation. The red shoes. The ones that MizMaya and I used to amuse ourselves by counting every day. This country is obsessed with red shoes.
After this touching moment, I brought my box to the register. I hustled out of the mall, stopping momentarily in front of the multiplex to see if I could extend my procrastination for another few hours. Nothing good playing, so I took the 40 minute metro ride back to my neighborhood, in the land of belgian beer boutiques and Apple accessory lofts.
Only when I got home did I notice that the name of my shoes, according to the box, were the Gluttons. And so we are all.
But we are no longer in Paris. We are in Creteil. Remember all that news about cars burning in France? Yeah, we're in Creteil, where I go to university. And Creteil-Soleil, literally the sun of Creteil, is a mall worthy of New Jersey, of the Chicago suburbs even. And yesterday was the first day of the semi-annual sales. And I needed shoes.
The moment I got off the metro and was carried away by the current toward the doors, I knew I would need my armor. I turned up my iPod, prayed to iGod and made a bee-line for the shoe stores. Except that I didn't exactly know where the shoe stores were and there aren't those convenient little mall maps all over the place like in the US. So I wondered through the 3 floors of consumer gluttony, eyes-wide open, each store like freakshow booth. Women tearing sweaters out of each other's hands. People whose tiny frames had become obese with boxes and bags, trying to shove through the entrance of yet another store.
I came upon the first shoe store, only to find women on the floor weeding through a pile of shoes, that had most certainly not been on the floor at the beginning of the day. Next store I remember all too well. They were the ones responsible for the pinky toe homicide of 2004. I finally stumble upon Andre, my old standby, and there they are. The world's most perfect pair of red sneakers...for only 24 euros. I pause a moment to reflect. I know full well that buying these shoes completes my French transformation. The red shoes. The ones that MizMaya and I used to amuse ourselves by counting every day. This country is obsessed with red shoes.
After this touching moment, I brought my box to the register. I hustled out of the mall, stopping momentarily in front of the multiplex to see if I could extend my procrastination for another few hours. Nothing good playing, so I took the 40 minute metro ride back to my neighborhood, in the land of belgian beer boutiques and Apple accessory lofts.
Only when I got home did I notice that the name of my shoes, according to the box, were the Gluttons. And so we are all.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Welcome to 2006
Happy New Year everyone! It is 2006. It is going to be a very good year. I'm getting married. Some other very good friends are getting married. Some other very good friends are venturing off, looking for bluer skies. I made a great CD summarizing the past two years of Mandounette-ness, which I will be sending as my Happy New Year wishes to you all (please drop me an e-mail with your address if you have moved in the past few years...)
AND it is 2006 and I am just joining the 21st century. I am now a Skype user. If you want to find me, my user name is my full name with a dot in between.
And I also wanted to annonce this year's theme. As the Year of the Cock passes onto the fortuitous Year of the Dog on the Chinese calendar, so the Year of Ass and Champagne passes onto the Year of Rock'n'Roll and Wine. It came to me in a vision. Drink up and rock on.
AND it is 2006 and I am just joining the 21st century. I am now a Skype user. If you want to find me, my user name is my full name with a dot in between.
And I also wanted to annonce this year's theme. As the Year of the Cock passes onto the fortuitous Year of the Dog on the Chinese calendar, so the Year of Ass and Champagne passes onto the Year of Rock'n'Roll and Wine. It came to me in a vision. Drink up and rock on.
