Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Bien joué: Paris

Ahem. Lights, please.

A picture sometimes really IS worth 1,000 words, but most of the time I think my voice is specialer.

This time, however, I will let my vocal chords take a backseat to my (sometimes piece of sh*t) camera in all its (mostly accidental) glory. This is organized semi-chronologically, although me being kK sometimes there's just randomness that is never explainable to anyone not in my head, and sometimes not even then.

(Dinner on Parisian rooftop patio)

(First hash in Fontainebleau)

(Champagne toast at Montmartre wine festival)

(Sacre Coeur)

La vie quotidienne: One of many days waiting five minutes (or less!) for a train in the awesome-except-for-its-ridiculous-1-to-6-am-closure metro system:

(Parisian Hot Dog. Erm, riiiiiiiight. But of course I ate it anyway.)

(Versailles hash -- OnOn!)

And on one fine day:

(La glace de Bertillon!)

Happiness-in-a-can-baby! However, sacrilegious as it might seem, I am still convinced that Haagen-Daaz is The Best. Ice Cream. Evah.

Speaking of THE BEST:

L'As du Falafal! (Officially endorsed by Lenny Kravtiz. 
Seriously, there's a shrine to him inside and everything.)

And, BEST all around feel-at-home-in-a-café with, rarity among rarities in France, good coffee:

(Visit #16,482 to Pain Quotidien!)

At one point I acquired ...

(Monsieur Le Hot Pink Juicer!)

Later in our French tenure, an unexpected cherry on top:

(Who just saw Greaser rock l'Assassymphonie! LIVE IN CONCERT.)

(Don't worry, I would never deprive you of another chance
to witness the bizarre fabulousness of French music: play on!)

Of course, let's not forget what I was really supposed to be doing:


In October, there was the hash Halloween Red Dress Run:

And then it was the end of November, time for a very rainy Hash Thanksgiving:

... and ...

Thanksgiving Internationale à la Squash and kK!

Which was followed by a visit to the Christmas market on the Champs with The Pollock and Oxford Comma:

(Hot spiced wine...can anybody say DRUNK ON SUNDAY.)

After Thanksgiving there was:

...where we...

(no, I don't need any more than that! Also read: BRING IT ON.)

...and got all...

And the unforgettable trip to Munchen, where I ...

... and, with the bobsled team ...

... and got all ...

A few weeks later I went home for Christmas, where I got to hang out with these:

And this:

And, of course, this:

(Who doesn't love hashbrowns "all the way" at WaHo!)

Which I promptly:

I can't believe I'm still alive.

Anyway, back in Paris we found:

(Dive café!)

(Elf-ears paging best PIZZA in gai Paris)

I settled in to a new apartment...

(Room with a view) 

...with new housemates:

...got a horizontal-striped shirt:

...was mocked by an amused drunk nearby...

... was co-hare for a hash through the 15th and 16th arrondissements:

(On In!)

...and was welcomed back by my babysitter club:

Of course, there's always an excuse to have a dinner party:

...or a masquerade...

Of course, it's wine o'clock all day on your birthday (or really, let's face it, any other day ending with 'y'):

Besides Munchen, there was the trip to Champagne:

...and let's not forget the 'that can't be real' château...

...or the once-a-decade pilgrimage to Aix:

(TGV to Aix)

(Adorable street musicians on Cours Mirabeau)

Now, there are certain things one must do while living abroad:

(Don't forget to send your family les cartes postales!)

Visit the Musée D'Orsay at least 242 times...

... drink loads of raw milk ...

... hang out with Oscar Wilde ...

... in the best cemetery in the world:

(Père Lachaise!)

... never miss an opportunity to climb to Montmartre in the snow:

... and, if you ever feel ridiculous while trying to speak French, it's necessary to go home to the 86-year-old-man club and sip out of a recycled nutella glass:

Now, when it comes to social activities, never leave home without your quotebook:

1. "Google 'French Military Victories.'"

2. "I can't tell the difference between boy scouts and British people apparently."

3. "Cheers to having big feet and being more stable than the French!"

4. "If you get a juicer, a dog and a baby you're never going back."

5. "My arms must be too tired from lifting all those sandwiches to my face today."

6. "Yeah, he seems like the type that would die."

7. "Unless those sheets are made of chocolate, they can just kiss my ass."

8. "So, you have to go eat head on Saturday?"

9. "That was the fattest baby I've ever seen. It didn't even have kneecaps, just thighs down to its ankles."

10. "Mon phone est plus smart que ton phone."

11. "It's annoying that pathetic people like that get to exist in this world and I have to put up with it."

12. "I couldn't have made a worse stew if I'd invited anarchists to draw up a constitution."

13. "If I wanted to see an exact replica of oranges, I'd eat a fucking orange."

14. "I'm a Virgin addict."

15. "You go ahead and do that, I'm going to sit here and eat some vegetables."

**Quote notes**
1. *[NB: It's not doing it now, but at one point this took you to a google page that said "Your search did not match any documents. Did you mean 'French military defeats'?"]
2. kK, after stone cold soberly misidentifying a group of safari-type clad youngsters with King's English accents.
3. PTPO, concluding a discussion wherein three of us American chicks horrified a few French femmes with the size of our gigantic feet.
4. kK, on what you need to acquire in France to live there the rest of your life.
5. PTPO, on why she was having trouble getting the train door open.
6. The Mermaid, on why she wasn't surprised that some artist or other had died at a young age. 
7. kK, upon finding out the price of a hotel room Squash found pictures of online.
8. PTPO, in reference to my tête de veau dinner with Madame.
9. PTPO, on a coworker's baby.
10. French newspaper ad for smart phones. 
11. PTPO, on whether a particular fellow human being was either pathetic or annoying.
12. Some book somewhere about something.
13. Squash, on why she likes Monet.
14. PTPO, as we stood outside the store under the Louvre. It sank in for her midway through my burst of cackles loud enough to crack La Joconde's smirk to a full on smile.
15. kK, on what I will do as other people spend their time angry or worried or otherwise being shitty.
**End Quote notes**

And now I'd like to take a moment of silence to properly toast the trip with Ageless that started it all, New Year's 2009:

(huh-LO it's called waterproof mascara. Buy some, ya cheap ho.)

And that, folks, is the end of Chapter 29. Commencing Chapter 30 with a bang, as I work part time at a doggie day care in New York City (more on that later), head to Ithaca for the wedding of The Pollock and Oxford Comma, be honorary bridesmaid for Dr. Dumber in her Sikh-style wedding party in Chicago, and then somehow make my way to the Holy Land of Rain, a.k.a. kK's final resting place: Seattle.