TV Time

Argh!
I just spent like, all afternoon watching all the season premieres of all my favorite US TV shows!
It was totally cool but I wish there was an easier way to access all these shows...say, if NBC.com or ABC.com for example would let people outside of the U.S. access the online episodes section...? It would be so much easier than trying to find all the different episodes online!

Anyway, all these American TV shows just served as a painful reminder to me of why I avoid watching French television, which consists mostly of horrible talk shows hosted by people who think they are funny or lame copies of American TV shows - i.e. "L'hôpital" which is a rip-off of Grey's Anatomy, or all those other shows that rip off Law & Order/CSI/Without A Trace/Cold Case.

Which reminds me, I still don't understand all the fuss about Grey's Anatomy, nor why I so enjoy watching the show. I seriously think all the characters are not at all likeable and Meredith Grey annoys the hell out of me with her stupid narrating and her bitchy attitude. Yet, I totally watched the season premiere this afternoon and I actually liked it.

What is wrong with me??

How embarrassing....!

I had a bit of an accident as I was getting out of bed yesterday....

Our bed is actually situated on this mezzanine loft-thing, accessible by a ladder.

So yesterday I woke up late yet again (my body has gone back to its own weird yet normal schedule of falling asleep around 3-4 a.m. and waking up around 10-11 a.m. - I know it sounds weird, but trust me, this happens to be my natural body clock ever since I was a baby). I guess I woke up around 11 a.m. and lolled in bed until around noon.

I got up, clutching my iPod (to help me fall asleep, I listen to it every night) and my cell phone (makeshift alarm clock) and slowly put one foot down on the top step of the ladder. Clutching the side of the ladder with my left hand, I started to put the other foot down on the step below, when whhhhooooooossssshhhhhh! The foot that I thought was firmly placed on the step slipped, causing me to fall all the way down to the floor (The loft is pretty high up - I guess it was a fall that was over 6 feet high).

It was kind of scary, but I guess it was more the shock than anything else that had me all shook up. I ended up in a heap at the bottom of the ladder, half on the ladder and half crumpled into the corner against the wall and the radiator.

Anyway, at first I was worried I might have broken or fractured something, but after a few minutes I managed to extricate myself from my hole and crumpled myself into another heap on the floor a few feet away. The fall had knocked the wind out of me, and I was still in shock, but after about 10-15 minutes I realized I was quite able to stand up and sort of walk around.

I ended up with quite a few nasty bruises and swelling, mostly in the tailbone area, which made for quite painful walking, so I spent most of yesterday sitting down. Today I think I am much better - the bruises are now starting to appear and I've got some major ones on my arms, legs, and hips. The H is worried that maybe I should go to the hospital and get some x-rays done to make sure that I'm fine, but I don't think it's really necessary - the pain is not too bad in any case.

I guess you could say I was pretty lucky - it could have been much worse. It's mostly just really embarrassing more than anything else at this point.

**Update: I happened to stumble upon a tape measure, so I measured the distance from the top step of the ladder to the floor, and came up with about 2,25 meters. I have no clue what that is in feet, so I will let you all figure out what that is.

Totally creepy

Nicolas Sarkozy was interviewed by the New York Times and the International Herald Tribune.

Click here for the article and here for the interview excerpts.

Among the topics he discusses is France's return to the military command of NATO (but only if France has equal power as the US, and so long as the US meets all of France's conditions. I say, keep dreaming, because I think we are just fine without France!), France's role in Iran and Iraq (not very clear given the conflicting views with Bernard Kouchner), how much he loves America and is impressed by them, how the French just love America and are ever so grateful for liberating them in WWII (HA! Yeah right!), and he also name drops a bunch of times (he has met John McCain, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Barack Obama).

Apparently, he was also "perpetually in motion...his jaw muscles twitched...he cut off his interviewers in mid-sentence..." This merely serves to confirm my sneaking suspicion that the man is high on cocaine. I mean, seriously, how else can someone make like, 3 trips around the world in one day? And why is this guy EVERYWHERE all at the same time? The 8 PM French news every night should be renamed "What Sarkozy Did Today" because he is in EVERY SINGLE SEGMENT! A typical evening news is like this:
"Oh, no! There was a car accident in the middle of France! Good thing Sarkozy was there to comfort the families."
"Angela Merkel gave a speech in Germany....and Sarkozy was there!"
"There's a bunch of illegal immigrants living in a squat in the suburbs of Paris. Thank goodness Sarkozy was there to chat with them and imply that they should get the hell out of France."
"Oh, no! Another tsunami in Southeast Asia! Well, don't worry, because Sarkozy was there to assert that France would be there in their time of need."
"George W. Bush went jogging in Washington, D.C. today. And Sarkozy was right there, jogging alongside Bush and kissing his ass!"

The H and several of our Frenchie friends think that Sarkozy is all talk but no action. After all, as they assert, how can Sarkozy do anything, when all he does is spend his time chatting with journalists?

Cool or creepy?

Yesterday while I was walking over to the métro station, I passed a young guy wearing this really cool leather jacket.

It reminded me of my cool vintage leather jacket that I "inherited".

My FIL found his leather jacket from the early 60's/late 70's and everyone wanted it. So the H tried it on, as did his brother and his little sister's 17-year old BF, and it was too small for all of them. The the SIL tried it on but it was too big. So everyone suggested I try it on, and it fit me perfectly! (On a side note, I happened to find the FIL's hat from the same era last year and I was the only one who fit into the hat too - it was too small for everyone else).

So I was thinking about the cool vintage leather jacket yesterday and now I find myself torn between these two thoughts:
- It was so cool and a great stroke of luck that I got to inherit the coveted jacket since I was the only one who could fit into it. It's all very Cinderella-esque.
- It is kind of creepy that men's clothes fit me so well. It's also kind of creepy that the FIL in the 70's and I share the same clothing size.

Basically, I can't decide if it's cool that the jacket fits me or if it's totally creepy and weird because I have a scrawny man-body.

On a totally random side note, there are lots of tall, pale people wearing green wandering around the streets of Paris today - they would be the Irish supporters for the big rugby game tonight. I am totally rooting for Ireland to kick France's ass!

Procrastination Central

Wow.

So I got like, three Facebook invites.
And my friend Josh spent awhile on MSN trying to convince me to sign up, saying "It's so much better than Friendster".

After I got my third invite, I figured, "Eh, why not?"

Well, Josh was right: Facebook IS much better than Friendster.

It is also an EXCELLENT way to waste time.

A Mildly Disturbing Incident

Yesterday I ran around town doing various errands, and finished off everything by stopping at the Inno near my apartment - I was planning on making fresh guacamole from scratch, and I had already bought everything except for the tortilla chips.

I found the chips section but could only find teeny bags of tortilla chips, so I ended up buying 3 small bags so I could have the amount of chips in a regular large bag. Then I went to wait in the "express check-out line" where one can have a maximum of 10 articles.

Of course, the express lines were a mess, with no semblance really of a line, but I managed to find a spot behind an elderly man.

Unfortunately, the express line was not really moving at express speed, but I patiently waited anyway because what can you do?

Suddenly I heard a woman's voice screeching out: "This is unbelievable! This is the express line?! How ridiculous! Imagine making people wait this long just to buy one item!"

I turned around to check out who was making the commotion and saw a rather large, white-trash type lady who seemed to have just recently appeared (and was probably waiting for all of 2 minutes - there were at least 3 - 4 people between us). I didn't really think much of it because the French have this tendency to complain loudly when something doesn't please them, and then they calm down once they have aired their grievances to everyone within hearing distance.

The elderly man was now putting his articles on the check out counter when I distinctly heard, "Yeah, I hate Chinese people. They really annoy me." I turned around to see the same fat lady chatting to some other old woman who was waiting behind her.

My first thought was "Oh no, she did NOT just go there!" Then I thought maybe I misheard her - it was noisy after all. Except then I heard, "I know what you mean, I feel the same way about black people." This was coming from the old woman the fat one was talking to.

Then I thought, "Huh. Well this is weird," because no one else seemed to be outraged. Then I saw the black woman behind me look over at them and then turn forward with an expression that said, "Oh, she did NOT just go there!"

I had this urge to go up to the two women and give them some sort of a lecture, something along the lines of, "Excuse you, but this kind of racist behavior is not acceptable!" But then I was thought, okay, that would be weird and I would be making a scene.

The thing is that although most people consider me to be bilingual in French and English (to the point that I was recently told by BILG (brother in law's girlfriend) that the in-laws always forget that I'm American) I have always found it to be extremely difficult to defend oneself in a foreign language. I don't think it's something that ever becomes easier - I have met foreigners who have lived in France for 20 years or more who say the same thing - that it is just really difficult to defend yourself in a language other than your native one.

So there I was, thinking that if the whole thing were taking place in English, I might have gone up to the old ladies and given then a stern lecture, but because it was all taking place in French, what should I say? The French are all about witty, cutting remarks and comebacks and take much pride in finding the right words to do it all with, and while I know the right words to say, they are not right enough.

I didn't really have much more time to think about it all because then it was my turn to pay for my three items, but I could clearly hear behind me "Chinese cashiers are the worst because they make you wait a really long time and they are slow" and the response "Yeah, I agree, but the blacks are just as bad about it." I could see the black woman standing behind me turning to stare at the two old ladies, but she wasn't really reacting; the Asian cashier swiping my three measly bags of tortilla chips was pretty nonchalant too, though I'm sure she must have heard as well.

I guess it was just even more surreal because not only have I never seen something like this back in the U.S., but also because no one really seemed to care.

In the end, I suppose I just felt more pity towards the ignorance of the old ladies rather than anger.

Humor

When most people think of French culture, one inevitably thinks of the "7ème art", or cinema - and most people will think of the Nouvelle Vague movement in French cinema, which produced some really great films like "Le Mépris" starring Brigitte Bardot or "A bout de souffle" with Jean Seberg.

However, I would like to point out that for the French, however, these movies are not as beloved nor have made as big of an impact on French culture than a group of movies that have most likely never even been internationally released.

Flashback to the years 1998-200, when I was an exchange student here in Paris and spent all my time in the company of my Frenchies. They insisted that I absolutely MUST watch some "very important French movies" as "this will really immerse you in our culture" and "every French person has seen these movies." I was all on board, thinking I would be watching the classic works of Jean-Luc Godard or François Truffaut.

Instead, I sat through a marathon of movies that included "La Boum", which starred a teenage Sophie Marceau as a high school student who goes to some party, "Les Bronzés" about a group of friends who vacation on a beach, and the even more popular sequel, "Les Bronzés font du ski" in which the same group of friends go on a winter skiing vacation together.

Fast forward to when I came back to France semi-permanently back in 2005, and I was pretty confident of my integration in French culture, having seen "Les Bronzés font du ski" about 4 times already. Insted, the H was horrified that I had never seen the films of Louis de Funès or Coluche; as it turns out, these two actors are the absolute beloved icons of French culture and cinema (and who have been dead for about 20 years), though I suppose de Funès is maybe a bit more popular.

And so I ended up sitting through "La Grande Vadrouille", "Le grand restaurant" (starring de Funès) and "Banzaï" and "Le maître de l'école" (starring Coluche).
All I can say, after having watched (many times) these beloved French movies, is that the French are crazy about slapstick humor. (The closest American equivalent I can think of off the top of my head is that movie "Airplane").

I have noticed an interesting phenomenon, though: the mere mention of "Louis de Funès" is enough to send any French person into bouts of hysterical laughter.

At first I thought maybe it was just the H. Then I thought maybe it was just the H and his entire family (even his 18-year old sister and her 17-year old BF dissolve into laughter). But then I realized that it works with ALL French people.

For example, last night the H and I went out for dinner with his friend R and R's girlfriend C. We got into a discussion about humor, and how the concept of humor is so extremely different in various cultures and countries. I think I innocently said something along the lines of, "Yeah, that's like how everyone in France cracks up when you mention Louis de Funès, but no one else thinks it's funny."

This sentence caused quite a sensation: The H, R, and C all went into hysterical laughter, with the guys nearly snorting beer out of their noses and C almost choking on her sushi.

30 minutes later, no one had said a single word, but they were still laughing hysterically, to the point where they were crying.

I waited patiently while they wiped their tears and gradually stopped laughing, but then I said, "I did think "La Grande Vaudrouille" was actually funny."

Everyone started laughing hysterically again, just thinking about all the funny scenes in the movie. Except they absolutely had to act out all the scenes and jokes which meant they started crying again with laughter.

So basically, the best way to make French people like you is to say "Louis de Funès".
I'm pretty sure it would work on even the most hard-hearted functionnaire.

To seek or not to seek...

Well, now that all the wedding and post-wedding excitement has died down, I now find myself with scads of free time on my hands.

The good news is that I am slowly getting back into the groove of being inspired, and am now slowly but surely redoing my portfolio as well as collecting pictures and things for my inspiration book.

Naturally, I would be ready to now look for my first entry-level assistant designer job.

The problem though, is that since the H and I are about to start the paperwork for our move to NYC, should I even bother looking?

The H and I had a big discussion about it last night - it will probably be a good 6 - 8 months before we have his visa ready, so maybe I should start looking for a job. I pointed out that ideally I could get a CDD for about 3 months, or maybe a 6-month CDD. However, the H said that most CDD's are given out to people that they plan to put eventually onto a CDI, so the hiring company would want me to available after the CDD runs out. He also logically pointed out that a hiring company would most likely NOT want to hire someone who plans to move out of the country in the next few months, anyway.

While the H's point of view makes sense, I happen to have a more pressing problem, and that is that I am steadfastly approaching a gap of about one year on my CV! As everyone has said to me, the hardest thing in France is to make the leap from a "stage" (internship) to an entry level job, especially at the kinds of places where I did my internships, because there are so few spots open. Even worse is that in France, an internship doesn't count as actual work experience, which is kind of weird considering that here, an internship is pretty much like a real job - you have to work 5 days a week, you pretty much have the same hours as everyone else, and they rarely accept an intern who does not have previous experience. (Ahem, which is why on my English CV I have listed my previous internships as "assistant designer").

Then the H suggested maybe doing temp work - which unfortunately does not really exist for my job function - although temp work is quite common if you are a seamstress, or patternmaker, or whatever in the technical part - I remember at the previous places I worked, they would hire a ton of temp workers before the fashion shows to stitch the clothes. I wouldn't mind so much doing that except anyone who has seen my sewing knows that I am not the best, and everyone who knows me knows that I am horrible at math, so any technical job like that is not ideal.

Anyway, a senior person I worked with at one of the previous companies gave me a lead to some headhunting agencies - though the H thought that was weird, since apparently in France, headhunters are for people in senior positions. But since this former co-worker of mine suggested I try anyway, the H and I figured it can't hurt - but then we get back to the whole short term contract problem.

Aaargh. If only there weren't these stupid labor laws, there would be a much bigger turnover for jobs and it probably wouldn't bother anyone if I left after say, 6-9 months.

Giant leap

Ooooh.

Okay, so I decided to go public with the blog, since apparently it is a pain in the ass to have to sign in.

Anyway, I've realized that I've been having fun with the blog anyway, so I might as well just share all the madness.

So this is a really big step for me, seeing as how I'm putting myself out there on the internet and everything.

I hope everyone will enjoy the blog as much I've been having fun writing it.

"Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

Some of you may or may not know that I am the ultimate attraction for mosquitoes.

Seriously. They flock to me as soon as they get the chance. It wouldn't be too irritating if it wasn't for the fact that I have really bad reactions to mosquito bites. The kind of reactions where my entire body part will swell up three times its normal size.

My mom says that I have the kind of skin that just naturally attracts mosquitoes - perhaps I give off some sort of odor that is pleasing to them, or that my skin type is the mosquito ideal, being thin or something. I can't say that my mom is wrong about this, because I remember a certain incident back when I was about 11. To make a long story short, I was sleeping in a room with about 25 other kids and 5 adults and I was the ONLY PERSON IN THE ROOM to get completely attacked by the mosquitoes.

Plus, I have literally tried every anti-mosquito product on the market - and the only thing that works (most of the time) is that Avon Skin-So-Soft product. (It did not work for me that time I went to Tunisia in the summer with a bunch of Frenchies - there were 3 of us in the hotel room and of course, I was the only one to have been eaten alive by the damn mosquitoes).

Anyway, this summer it hasn't been quite warm enough for the mosquitoes to head over to our apartment - usually in the summer, being that our apartment is on the last floor and we have a sleeping mezzanine that is right underneath the roof, the H insists on opening the ceiling windows and regular windows as well. Usually I buy some sort of plug-in mosquito repellent (which usually works) but this summer, I haven't been able to find any refills ANYWHERE, let alone a starter pack (with the plug included) so my only defense has been that one tube of Skin-So-Soft that my mom brought for me.

Well, imagine my surprise last night when I heard a high pitched "Bzzzzzzz" around my face! Actually, it was about 4:30 a.m. and I had just fallen asleep (I suffer from insomnia) and I distinctly remember that I had been dozing off into a dream when I decided to scratch my left cheek. I thought "Hmmm, that's weird, I have a bump on my face that itches." Then that high pitched buzz came again and I immediately shot up straight in bed, realizing that horror of horrors - there was a mosquito in the room! I immediately reached for the tube of Skin So Soft by the bed, and while I was trying to squeeze a huge amount onto my hand, I could hear and feel the mosquito buzzing around me, and every so often, it grazed my arm, whereupon I let out a series of shrieks while waving my arms around like a crazy person. The H woke up and was all "What is going on? What's the matter with you?" and I explained that it was a mosquito. (He didn't say anything, just turned around and went back to sleep).

I was really quite surprised as none of the windows were even open and while it had been a nice day, it wasn't THAT warm. The last time a mosquito woke me up in my sleep was the night before the wedding - upon which I ended up with two giant mosquito bites on my forehead and I had to mildly photoshop said forehead in all the close-up wedding pictures.

Anyway, I calmed down somewhat once I put all that Skin So Soft on my face, neck, and arms, but every so often I would get an itch on my legs - which ended up making me extremely paranoid, so at around 5:30 a.m. I smeared Skin So Soft on my legs as well. But I still never really fell asleep until around 6:30 a.m. because I kept hearing that irritiating "Bzzzzzz! Bzz! Bzzzzz! Bzz! Bzzz!" and I kept thinking to myself, "Motherfucker! Damn mosquitoes! They're vampires!!!"

I am also sad to report that besides that bite on my left cheek, I've got another one on my neck, and two on my right shoulder - and my shoulder has already started to swell up. I am also very sad to say that I have tried every mosquito bite cream on the market in several countries, and the only one that has vaguely worked was some cream that came from Italy - of which I have no more, either.