When the lights...go out...in the toilet

Well, one of the perks of being a teacher, assistant or otherwise, is that you can use the REAL toilets near the teachers' lounge. (Really, I don't understand why they can't just put seats on all the toilets! Us girls ain't askin' for much, now, are we?!) There's really nothing else I really needed to say about this, but I just had a quick flashback [spoiler alert: eye muffs, to all you sensitives with "tmi" on the tips of your tongues] to one time when I had to spend a little *extra* time in this quaint room, and the automatic lights went out b/c I guess they thought no one was still in there and wanted to save electricity, so I had to sit there waving my arms frantically back and forth like I was trying to catch someone's attention before they got run over by a car crossing the street.

So I think I might have mentioned my new best friend, Monsieur Hot Pink Juicer (sorry Dumber...you've been replaced by a machine*). On my worst days he cheers me up by promising a magical mixture of whatever I choose to throw at him. Squash kindly provided the recipe for my all-time favorite: carrots, apples, ginger (AND LOTS OF IT), spinach, and lime. YUM!!!

Monsieur Hot Pink Juicer, surrounded by his lovely ladies Carrotte, Pomme, Citron Vert, Gingembre, et Epinard

There is seriously nothing better in the morning (or any time of day, really) than a cup of strong coffee, a piece of buttery toast (my palate raises its nose and disdainfully sniffs at anything less than President-quality), and a glassful of nasty-lookin' but fan-friggin-TASTIC tasting happiness-in-a-can-baby! I'm bringing it back to the States with me when I leave, even if I have to throw out all my clothes to make room for him in my suitcase (just kidding, sort of), and EVEN THOUGH I'll have to use an adapter EACH AND EVERY TIME I USE IT. That's right. I hearts my juicer.
(He'd take a bow, but he's busy getting some beauty rest.)

Speaking of rest...[kK tangent 2684] I think it's about time to head to the library. While I don't think they'll have acquired the new Jasper Fforde yet, I did see some tasty nuggets in the sci fi/fantasy section (down in the depths of the stacks...it's like a dungeon down there! but at least my little space friends have Biography/History for companions, lol!). If I'm lucky I'll get a spot on one of the two couches, where up to four strangers can get really cozy trying to share half of each bench cushion while pretending not to notice (or notice and pretend not to judge) each other's reading materials. I love taking naps in the library! I'll just be reading along and...zzzz...
[possible end to kK Tangent 2684]

I really can't be bothered to say anything else...my entire brain is taken up with anticipation of having another glass of Green Power.
kK
[*what! YOU'RE Dumber and I'M Dumb! Or have I been upgraded to Stupid Idiot?]

Taken by a toilet

Wasn't New York City supposed to knock my "GULLIBLE" to just "gullible"???

So I have just learned that I most likely swallowed quite the story when I was told by my concierge that I had to pay him for fixing my toilet. I know, shocker...I always believe everything everyone who seems nice says to me. I wondered why he was so insistent that if anything ever broke again I should call him b/c oh dear, the agency would just be so much more expensive...so sincere...so much emPHAsis on the wrong sylABLE. HA! Oh this is too much...I will pretty much never live this one down, not even from myself!

I really have nothing else to say about this...I laughed so hard I'm not even angry. Besides, Karma is out to GET that guy! HA!

HAHA! I just got taken by a TOILET. HAHAHA!

No such thing as a free...toilet?

I swear, it is just about time I take myself to mechanic-stuff and plumbing-type school so I can fix all the *^$#@! objects that always *&^%$#@! break.

So my toilet broke. I call my concierge, the guy who takes care of the apt complex. He comes right away to fix it. Good as new. Totally awesome.

Two days later (as in, just a few minutes ago) I come home and find him still in the building (he usually leaves around 4 or 4.30 and it's definitely later than that right about now!) and he says that it was good I called him b/c if I'd called the agency who owns the building they'd have charged me 30 or 40 euros to fix it, but him, he fixes things for cheaper. This is all in French, mind you, and I'm really tired, so I sort of stare at him in a haze, like, what? Are you saying you want me to give you money? He was like, you know, give me whatever you want, like 20 euros or whatever. So I pull out the absolute last of my money, a 20 euro bill, and give it to him, in total shock. He's a lovely guy, my concierge...it must have been awkward for him to have to explain to me that I had to pay him, but now he's got some beer money, woohoo!

So lesson #435: Apartment maintenance in France = NOT free like it is in America. Score one for my homies! When does my teaching contract end, again? lol!

OK, off to a Turkish restaurant to stuff myself with...whatever Turkish people eat. My hash friend Late For Dinner is moving back to Turkey after a year of being in Paris, so we're having a goodbye party for her tonight. I plan on drinking beaucoup...maybe by the end of the night my broken toilet story will actually be funny!

kK