Welcome to Tokyo, Mr Bond

You know it's me, Cathy

2011-01-06T10:06:00.009+01:00

Student: Midori Haraguchi
Level: 4

Assignment: Use vocabulary from this chapter of Wuthering Heights to create your own dialogue.
(N.B. Midori loves the Brontë sisters. Reading Wuthering Heights was her own idea).

Cathy: ...........Heathcliff, fetch me the musty book, will you? I want to caricature
.......................Joseph.
Heathcliff: ....All right. Let's scrawl the detestable face.
Cathy: ...........Joseph is always croaking. He makes me crazy.
Heathcliff: ....I know. I want to hurl a cloak on his face.
Cathy: ...........By the way, if it is sunny tomorrow, why don't we scamper
.......................around the moor?
Heathcliff: ....It will be snug. We can mount the hill, too. I love basking on the
.......................hill heartily.
Cathy: ...........Yeah, it is our comfort, isn't it? I can't await tomorrow.
Heathcliff: ....Chathy, can you vow to be my only companion forever?
Cathy: ...........Yes. We will never be detached. Nothing can demolish us.

More Ugly Logos

2010-09-30T10:34:00.009+02:00

The Toronto Organizing Committee for the 2015 Pan Am Games unveiled the logo for the games yesterday, and I have to say I have never seen something quite so vomit-inducing!

First off; not even in the height of the bad taste 70s would someone put Orange, Avocado and Sky Blue together. It's just plain wrong. Then the logo itself is just blobs devoid of and meaning or signification whatsoever. According to the press release, The Pan Am Games logo is inspired by aboriginal art forms common throughout the Americas before Europeans arrived. Uh, what? I see blobs. Just blobs. And while I'm sure the Micmaqs or Aztecs didn't have anything against blobs, I don't see how you can even pretend that this logo has even the slightest link to Aboriginal culture.

The bid logo was insipid and dull, but not offensive. Just boring. The actual logo for the Games makes my eyes bleed. Honestly, who is the design team that the bid committee is working with? They should never be allowed near Adobe Illustrator ever again!

Logo for the 2015 Pan Am Games, you are officially Dead To Me! Now excuse me while I go gouge out my eyes.

Ma Po Tofu, Round Two!

2010-02-20T18:26:00.007+01:00

A recent trip to Chinatown unearthed a new Ma Po Tofu mix: Baiweizhai Brand. It had nice, old-fashionedy-looking packaging and charmingly unhelpful instructions like: "And with this product how much used according to the amount of bean curd to make it appetizing and add appetizing soup in it". I thought I'd give it a try.

Now, Ma Po Tofu is supposed to be spicy — really spicy even. But this was one-more-chili-and-I'll-see-God spicy. Not good. I had to add sugar and chicken stock to try to calm it down a little. Also, there was an inappropriate amount of Sichuan peppercorns; i.e., there were none. This is also not good since it is the key ingredient in this recipe.

The hunt for the perfect Ma Po Tofu mix continues!

Uglympic Logo

2010-01-24T15:45:00.007+01:00

You may have noticed, but I'm a bit of a nerd. I get excited about things like Olympic logos. So I'm sure you can all imagine my horror and what-the-effing-effness when I learned that the new logo for the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia had been unveiled.

The original bid logo when Sochi was a candiate city is quite nice actually. Pleasant colours, interesting to look at, winterish. ...Perhaps a little more appropriate were these Games taking place in the Soviet Union, but hey, I've never been one to turn my nose at some fine Commie nostalgia!Enter the new logo. Techinally, I'm not even sure it qualifies as a logo — there are no graphic elements. I mean, anyone can download a clunky, "futuristic" font from the Web and colour it light blue in MS Word. Could this logo be any more bland? Incorporating the ".ru" domain name is supposed to be new and fresh — which it definately would be, had it been a part of the 1996 Olympic logo! Honestly, in 2014, who is going to find the Internet in the slightest bit interesting? The organisers might as well have put the fax number in the logo too!
Here's a quote: "To prove our commitment to innovation, Sochi 2014 will have a clearly digital Games emblem. Today, we welcome tomorrow." Oh barf. — Sochi Olympic logo, although it was tough, you manged to out-fugly even the Nagano Olympics and take the crown of Most Wretched Olympic logo ever. You are dead to me!

Ma Po Tofu

2010-01-05T21:50:00.003+01:00

One of my favourite dishes from when I lived in Sichuan, I'm always happy when I find a new spice mix to make Ma Po Tofu (麻婆豆腐, or "Pockmarked-Face Auntie's Tofu" to be more poetic). This Lee Kum Kee brand version had a pleasant amount of mouth-tingling from the Sichuan peppercorns and was quite tasty. Unfortunately, it was probably quite tasty because of the amount of MSG in it — instant headache after I finished eating!

Two thumbs down, Lee Kum Kee!

Das ist freaky!

2010-01-04T21:50:00.004+01:00

On the same day, I get these two eerily similar postcards from Berlin, from two people who absolutely don't know each other.

Weird, ja?

I Made This! — Maple Cake

2009-11-13T00:47:00.005+01:00

Me and Donna Hay go way back. And finally I've been inspired to blog about making her recipes. Unfortuantely, I'm told by types more lawyerly than I that posting her recipes would be a copyright violation. Nevertheless, I hope my posts will be an inspiration to people looking to break out of their cooking ruts while also serving me as a record to the wonderful things Ms Hay has had me put in my mouth.

My dance class has been invited to perform at the closing gala of the St-Étienne film festival. We decided to take advantage of yesterday public holiday and meet up in the afternoon to go over our show. I thought it a good opportunity to showcase my country's one contribution to the culinary world and make a Maple Cake to bring along.

Using a Australian cookbook in Europe is not always so straightforward. Already the measurements are all different — though that's not a terribly insurmountable problem. What's tricky are the ingredients. For example, this recipe called for double cream, which doesn't correspond to anything on the shelves of the supermarché. Nor is the requisite brown sugar available. But the mother of all invention is frustrated grocery shopping expeditions, so I made do. Whole cream, which has an even higher fat content (and potentially turns into butter if whipped a touch too vigourously) stood in for the half cream while lumps of rock sugar took the place of brown. I had to take a hammer the hell out of the rock suger to break it into powder. There were still sizeable rock pieces of sugar that I was worried that people would break a tooth on, but they crystallised in oven and made the cake even better, I think.

All in all, another A+ recipe for Donna (though really does she have any other kind?)

(Admittedly this is a photo of the photo from the cookbook — I had the idea to blog about the cake after it was eaten — but my cake came out looking almost the same. Next time a real photo, I promise).

Science Nerds!

2009-11-03T18:28:00.002+01:00

Introducing my AWESOME Ladies series!

2009-10-19T00:01:00.003+02:00

Starting with Her Excellency Pratibha Patil, President of India.

She is the head of state and first citizen of India, as well as the Supreme Commander of the Indian Armed Forces.

President Patil is the first woman head of state of the India, the world's largest democracy. First elected in 2007, she is now 74 years old.

Summer's gone

2009-10-09T12:07:00.002+02:00

Classes start again on monday. I'm feeling very weird about the whole situation. September didn't really feel like it really happened at all. A post-summer, pre-school limbo of hollow days strung out like paper ballons. A waiting room to a three-year waiting room. I'm apprehensive about the year ahead, the work, the stress and the uncertainty of what will happen after. For three years my life has had a compass point and soon enough I will be ungrounded. It's kind of scary...

Adil

2009-08-18T08:51:00.003+02:00

This is the most exposure anyone has ever had to Albania:

The simpsons 111

That is, until now! Watch this space for an in-depth, ground-breaking, behind-the-Iron-Curtain report of the fast times and stolen Mercedes of Albanian livin'.

Fête Nationale

2009-07-14T11:03:00.002+02:00

Military Parade!

Picnic!

Rock Concert!

Fireworks!

Je vais vite

2009-06-20T13:45:00.001+02:00

What the French kids are listening to these days:

Lorie - Je Vais Vite

Bookreading Savages

2009-05-19T22:22:00.005+02:00

The BBC believes most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here. So how do my reading habits stack up? Am I really an uncooth boor after all?

1 The Bible-

2 The Lord of the Rings- X

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte -

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - X

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee -

6 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen -

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte - X

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell - X

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman - X

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens-

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott -

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy-

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller -

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare-

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier -

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien - X

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks -

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger- X

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell -

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald - X

23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy -

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - X

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh -

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky -

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck - X

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll - X

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Gahame -

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy -

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens - X

33 Chronicles of Narnia - X

34 Emma - Jane Austen -

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen -

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - X Wait, who wrote this list?! The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is a part of the Chronicles of Narnia! Stupid BBC, don't you know anything?

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini - X Honestly, what is this book doing here? It was fine (execpt for the incredibly lame ending), but top 100 books?! You've got to be joking!

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres -

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden - X

40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne -

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell -

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown - X

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - X

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving -

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - L.M. Montgomery -

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood- X Yeay! Can-con.

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding -

50 Atonement- Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel - X Yeay, even more Can-con.

52 Dune - Frank Herbert -

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility -Jane Austen -

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth -

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens - X

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley- X

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night - Mark Haddon -

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - X

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck -

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov -

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold -

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac - X

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding -

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie - X

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville -

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens - X

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker - X

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett -

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Inferno - Dante -

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray -

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens-

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell - X This book should get way more props than it does!

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker -

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro -

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert -

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White -

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle -

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton -

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad-

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery - X

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks -

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams -

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas -

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare- X Since they've already produced several versions of Hamlet, I thought the BBC would be well aware that the Prince of Denmark is, in fact, included in the complete works of Shakespeare (#14)... I call shenanigans on this list!

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl - X

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo -

Suis-je Bothered ?

2009-05-03T17:27:00.006+02:00

.
Sometimes I feel like my life is like this: French Exam.

Robin Leach meets Sally Kirkland

2009-04-17T15:34:00.001+02:00

Oh, LOTRAF... how I've missed you!

Again with the Singing and the Dancing!

2009-04-06T20:38:00.001+02:00

This time in Antwerp Central Station.

Thanks to CD fo this!

The Obsession Continues...

2009-03-29T22:00:00.002+02:00

I think I've become obsessed with dance in general since starting my class!

He can womanize me any time he wants!

2009-03-27T21:16:00.003+01:00

I'm kind of obsessed with this right now.

Pour les francophones seulement...

2009-03-04T21:47:00.003+01:00

True dat!

Your band's album cover

2009-02-23T01:52:00.002+01:00

The Natural History of Selborne — "The Photo You Want"

"The Photo You Want" is TNHS's second release and builds on the moody, etherial sucess of thier debut. Sweet, foggy vocals drift though a uncompromising, reverb-drenched, atmospheric soundscape comprised of floaty guitars, orchestration and pianos. The opener "Euskara" is born aloft by la-las and handclaps, while "Oriental Darter" is uncharacteristically acoustic folk, intimate and a joy.

Centraal Beheer

2009-02-11T22:08:00.002+01:00

Adam & Eve Insurance Ad

Dragostea din tei

2009-02-06T18:46:00.009+01:00

.
♪♫♪Vrei sa pleci dar nu ma, nu ma iei!♫♪♪

I never knew that T.I. and Rihanna loved Romanian boy bands so much! Did you?

Another thing I didn't know was that turn-of-the-century Eurotrash videos could be just as good –or even better– than videos from the 80s. You learn something new every day.

25 blah, blah, etc.

2009-02-03T18:13:00.002+01:00

I’ve been tagged by several people for to do this and I caught wind that if I didn’t, I would be less cool. Since I am trying so hard to be regarded as 'cool' by my friends, here are the 25 random facts about me.

1. I can make a horrible first impression and many people have told me they thought I hated them when we met.

2. If I was a domestic animal, I would be a llama. If I was a wild animal, I would be a flamingo.

3. My biggest problem in relationships is that I tend to avoid talking about problems. (Which in turn causes more problems).

4. Clearly, there are vampires.

5. I’ve been collecting postcards since I was about eight and want to get one from every country in the world.

6. I don’t think people should travel to Burma and I secretly think less of anyone I meet who has.

7. I had a scary reoccurring dream as a child of being at sea in a storm on a pirate ship with Spiderman’s body in a coffin.

8. I think circumcision is bad and wrong and should be made illegal.

9. I am a nerd about the following things: capitals, flags, airlines, public transport, birds, languages, alphabets, Project Runway, French Indochina, postcards, Meso-American history, kanji, Thor Heyerdahl.

10. I don’t like driving and when I’m in charge, I will make private car ownership illegal and replace all roads with train tracks.

11. The beach is my favourite place in the whole world and if I could live there forever, I would.

12. My greatest fear is failure.

13. My dream is to travel around the world without leaving the ground.

14. If I could only watch Gong Li movies for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t really be so bad.

15. I spend too much money on clothes. I think I have a problem.

16. As much as I hated all the fishing and camping trips my father took me on when I was young, I appreciate them so incredibly much now. So many people have so little exposure to nature now.

17. The last time I cried was 12 January 2009.

18. I have always been incredibly, incredibly self-conscious about my taste in music. (See #24, for example).

19. I’m a leg man.

20. Although a staunch left-handist, I bowl with my right hand.

21. If someone offered me a free plane ticket tomorrow, I would have a hard time choosing between Toronto and Tahiti.

22. I think Couchsurfing.com is amazing and it’s basically changed my life.

23. I want to go to Nunavut so bad!

24. My first record (whoa – dating myself!) was Rick Astley’s “Whenever You Need Somebody”.

25. I didn’t learn to tie my shoes until I was eleven. My poor mother must have thought I was retarded.

You're My Preset Number in Hawaii

2009-01-28T20:58:00.006+01:00

Some things that I thought everyone had seen, but apparently not, so now I'm sharing them with you!

Goldfrapp — Number 1

The Presets — This Boy's In Love

The world definitely needs more videos of boys beating each other up in milk. Hawt!

The Ellen DeGeneres Show — Hawaii Chair

Negativity

2009-01-23T08:22:00.001+01:00

During my trip home, two different friends approached me to say they were concerned about me. They were worried what was going on with me because my attitude had become quite negative. —Never an easy thing to hear, but they were entirely right of course. Not an easy thing to talk to a friend about either, so I really have to thank them immensely for caring enough about me to do it.

To be perfectly honest, I do find Paris to be a negative place. I hadn't realised, however, how much the bad vibes had affected me since arriving here. While I'm generally a very happy, easy-going, independent person, it seems the trying times I've had here have secretly been taking their toll.

Enough with the boo-hoo woe-is-me excuses though! — It's time for some solutions. I present you with "Smiling in the Face of Adversity 101".

Step One: Think of one new positive thing every day.

Step Two: Focus on what I have rather than what I'm missing.

Step Three: Set realistic and achievable goals.

Step Four: Leave Paris more often.

It's Official!

2009-01-20T23:13:00.005+01:00

You Scored as KINSEY six
SIX: face it hon, you're as
gay as they come

KINSEY six
81%
KINSEY five
38%
KINSEY
two
38%
KINSEY one
38%
KINSEY four
31%
KINSEY three
13%
KINSEY zero
0%

I'm a legal alien

2009-01-15T17:39:00.006+01:00

Hurray! I got my student visa renewed today. Sure, it took four appointments, hours of waiting, thousands of documents and endless heartbreak, but I am no longer an illegal alien. My situation is no longer irrégulière, as they say. Yeay me!

2008 Year In Review: Photo

2008-12-31T12:28:00.007+01:00

Submit your votes in the 'Comments' section!

Travel
Fes El Djedid

Mont St-Michel

Barcelona

Chambord

Berlin

Prenzlauer Alle

Cam River

Portrait
Balcony

Riad El-Bartal

Centre Georges Pompidou

Auto-Portrait
Arc de Triumf

Daniel-san

Hallway

Moé p'y Toé
Michael & Me

Polish & Me at Amélie's supermarket

Jer, Katherine & Me

Best Dressed
WWII Cadet

Hat-Sweater

Fez Hat

What Was I Thinking?
Lion Attack

Ho ho ho!

Around Town
Hôtel des Invalides

Catherine de Médici

Musée des Arts et Métiers

La Tour Eiffle

Gare d'Austerlitz

Palais Royale

2008 Year In Review

2008-12-31T12:00:00.004+01:00

Like sands through an hourglass, these are the days of our lives.

DOWN
¤...Trying andouillette sausage. Quite possibly the most foul and revolting thing ever to have been invented by mankind. Absolutely vile. (Post here).

¤...Stress from school, work and France turning my hair grey. After a long hiatus from the hairdresser whilst growing my hair, I was completely aghast to go a few weeks ago and see that fully one quarter of all the hair that was lying on the floor was grey! Grecian formula here I come!

¤...Failing a class by an eighth of a point (full story) and the horribleness of my school in general. I feel like I'm not really learning anything to which is added an impossible workload and a byzantine and incompetent administration. Justanotheryearandahalf, justanotheryearandahalf, justanotheryearandahalf. My new mantra.

¤...London gets a lot of flack for having bad weather, but the weather in Paris is equally as horrible all year long. Grey, wet, cold, windy, miserable. In December, there were eight hours of sunlight during the whole month! The very few sunny, hot days of summer were absolutely revolting: sweaty and humid without a lick of air conditioning, even in the subway (which is one place it is most desperately needed).

¤...Running myself into the ground with my insane work/school schedule this semester. Scurrying around the city from 9AM to 9PM most days of the week, scheduling homework time on the subway and collapsing, exhausted into bed at 2 in the morning, never managing to get everything done for the next day.

¤...It's hard to judge which was the singularly worst course in the thousand-year history of higher education: Théorie de la traduction taught by Mme Plassard or Mr Bruyère's Initiation au Droit (Intro to Law). Both classes were excruciatingly awful in their own way, but I think blatant xenophobia and racism on the part of Mr Bruyère might have made his class that extra slight bit worse. He did fail every single non-francophone in the class after all.

¤...Trying to renew my titre de séjour (my residence permit). Four appointments later and I still don't have the paperwork needed to get this taken care of. Every time I go an waste a day standing in line, they ask me for new documents which they haven't told me I needed to bring! After screaming and shouting my way through my most recent appointment, I left the immigration office in tears because I still don't have what I need, and now I'm an illegal alien!

¤...Michael moving back to Canada.

¤...About a solid month of bickering and fighting with my old lunatic roommate to get my deposit back. When I moved out, he insisted I pay for a professional to repaint my room to cover up two scratches on the wall. I, of course, thought this was preposterous and said I would do it myself. He said that was unacceptable. I said he was being unreasonable. And so on and so forth, etcetera, etcetera, until we were both so blue in the face that we gave up yelling and just sent hostile text messages and emails to each other. In the end we compromised, split the deposit 50/50 and neither one of us was happy.

¤...The worst week of my life. Already blogged about here. 'Nuff said.

UP

₪...Mika concert at Parc des Princes in June. Acrobats and juggling bears! Exotic girls, Fire-eaters! Muscle-men, contortionists! Intrigue, danger and romance! Electric lights, machinery, oh the electricity! — The best concert in the history of the Universe ever.

₪...Crazy roommate begone! Bye-bye smelly religious gay lawyer! Au revoir Sarajevo-style bathroom and washing machine in the middle of the kitchen! Adieu putrid cooking smells of rancid disgustingness (Sauerkraut + tinned brussel sprouts + fish heads in microwave)! Salut pastel patchwork shell-suit track pants that look like an Easter egg committed suicide. Good bloody riddance to any connexion I ever had to his sad, sorry, depressing and depressive life! I love my new apartment, my new neighbourhood and my new roommate. I couldn't be happier I moved.

₪...The simply amazing and wonderful people I've had the good fortune to meet. Michael, Cindy, Victoire, et al; you are wonderful and amazing people and I am truly blessed to have met you. Thank you for the many good times we shared over the past year (despite France's best efforts to ruin our lives).

₪...Champagne-soaked New Year's on the Champs Élysées with Polish and DN. A New Year's that actually lived up to the holiday hype for once!

₪...Feeling like the last person left on Earth, sitting on a rock next to a gurggling alpine waterfall, after hiking through the absolute remoteness of the Andorran Pyrenees.

₪...After being motivated by several seasons of So You Think You Can Dance, I finally joined a modern dance class in Paris. There is something fundamental about dance I totally love. You connect to something deeply 'inner' and carry it through you to the outside world. I'm begining to undertstand the deep emotional connexions people can have to dancing. —Plus, I'm not the worst person in the class.

₪...Escaping the tyrannical opulence and winter grey of Paris for some good ol' fashion QT with family and friends over Christmas. A year and a half is really far too long to be away.

₪... Cycling across the Pont de Sully in May. Life was good. Only five more months 'til I can do it all over again (or 151 days or 13,046,400 seconds, but who's counting?)

₪...Mum's visit. There's an old French saying that "Paris is not France." After two wonderful weeks exploring Normandy and the Loire, I couldn't agree more. The "real" France actually has chock-a-block charm with quaint little towns, wildflowers and smiling, friendly people. It was quite a revelation to me that I don't, in fact, hate France at all. It's just Paris that's a vacuum of ostentation and arrogance. Who knew?

₪...Travel. 2008 was rung in with a champagne hangover and trip to Rock the Casbah in Fes and wound up in the icy Jack Frost darkness of Canadiana winter. A fantastic travel year which included my first micro-state -the gorgeous mountains of Andorra-, punting down the Cam River in England, East-meets-West sauerkraut sensations in Berlin and rockin' round the clock during my Zürich layover.

New Year's Resolutions
As always, my New Year's Resolutions is to be more fabulous, which I hope to accomplish with the help of a snappy new suit and an increased champagne intake (I am living in France after all).

Another resolution for 2009 is to improve my French accent. My French accent was actually better before arriving in La France and has slowly degenerated into a mouth-full-of-marbles broad Anglo mess. It's time to faire des efforts as Gran-maman would say!

After 2008, the year of Lost In France, I think everything well on track for a fabuleux 2009.

Happy New Year!
Bonne Année !
¡Feliz Año Nuevo!
明けましておめでとうございます!
恭賀新禧!

Take That — Do What U Like

2008-12-15T00:16:00.003+01:00

Quite possibly the gayest, most homoerotic thing ever to have come out of Enland:

Do What U Like

I had to excuse myself after watching.

La República Bananera de Canadá

2008-12-05T12:44:00.003+01:00

Stephen Harper is a jerk-faced pig dog!

But tell me something I didn't already know...

How can he, in all honesty and with a straight face, say it is undemocratic for representatives of 62% of the population to form the country's government? –Seems pretty democratic to me. Then, when things look like they're not going his way, he has the Governor-General shut down Parliament. Uh, hello, what could be less democratic?!

Now that Harper has shut Parliament, what's next? Burning it down à la Nazi Reichstag? Honestly!

I thought I liked Michaëlle Jean. I thought she was the kind of person who would be bold enough to do something visionary and actually make this country a better place, run by MPs with the support of two-thirds of the population. I guess not. It's very unsettling to me that I haven't seen any newssource comment on her justifications for being a kowtow lackey to our new Toad King despot, Stephen Harper. I can only assume the worst.

Your Excellency, The Right Honourable Michaëlle Jean, you are oh-so-clearly Dead to Me!

Let's Groove!

2008-12-02T23:12:00.003+01:00

Earth, Wind and Fire is definately my new favourite group of all time ever!

Dancefloors, Breast Implants and Paradise

2008-11-23T13:41:00.009+01:00

Nightclubs in Argentina are offering patrons the chance for a D cup

A hit telenovela is raising a storm of controversy on Latin American TV screens. Sin tetas no hay paraíso (Without Tits There Is No Paradise), is so popular that the title is fast turning into an everyday saying. The programme — about a young girl who believes breast implants will gain her a better life but lead her to a world of prostitution and drug dealers — has left many people talking about the show’s glamourisation of unequivocally-enhanced busts. But with contests, like ones in Argentine nightclubs where new breasts are given away as monthly door prizes, can the current public obsession with plastic surgery really be blamed on a single show?

“I want my tits!” scream contest hopefuls who pay between $5 to $20 to get into nightclubs for the chance of winning big. In a country where the minimum wage is $240, implants costing $2,800 are seen as an incredible jackpot. For Argentinean club owners, the women who come out to compete –and the men who follow– make for big business. The contests have become so ubiquitous in Argentina that locals are starting to refer to them as “dancing for your boobs” in reference the local version of Dancing with the Stars.

“People have gotten bored of cars and motorbikes as prizes. They want something new” defends local promoter Rodrigo Herrera. His club, located in La Rioja province in the north-west of the country, is just one of many across Argentina holding breast implant raffles.

Herrera says that people quickly tire of this kind of promotion at club events. Nevertheless, breast implant parties have become a goldmine. “People will never tire of sex” said famous British porn publisher, Paul Raymond.

Implants have become so common that getting a boob job is an everyday topic of conversation at any café or bar. There are TV shows about breast implants all day long and just by flipping through the Argentine channels, you end up knowing the advantages of gel implants over silicone, where the doctor should make the incision and whether it’s more or less painful to put the implant under the breast muscle rather than on top. Implants are so present that they’ve almost become an everyday consumer item. Subjected to constant advertising, many young girls are putting the surgery high on their wish list.

“You can’t raffle off breast implants as if they were a toaster-oven,” denounces Francisco Famá, spokesman for the Argentine Plastic Surgeons Association. That may be logical, but not everyone is paying attention. “Surgical tourists” are being enticed to Argentina on nip-and-tuck packages that cover not only the cost of the procedure, but also airfare, hotels and sightseeing trips.

With favourable exchange rates and highly-skilled surgeons, Argentina has quickly become one of the world leaders in plastic surgery, with more operations performed there than almost anywhere else.

The truth behind Prop 8

2008-11-15T18:02:00.000+01:00

The Teaches of Piggy

2008-11-11T00:48:00.000+01:00

My new favourite thing!

The Translation Project that Took Over my Life!

2008-10-28T08:42:00.003+01:00

At the moment I am eat-sleep-breathing an enormous translation project for a friend of a friend. He's a photographer and he did an enthographic study of different endangered cultures for an exhibition at UNESCO. He asked me to translate the exhibtion guide. All fine and good. 26 pages by such-and-such a date; no problem. But then the pages were single-spaced, 8-point font... And they kept coming and coming and coming. More things to add or update or change everyday. The Never-Ending Story—only much, much longer!

I managed to farm out some of the work to friends, but it's still not enough. I haven't slept more than a few hours a night trying to get everything done. I just need it to be over, but instead I have more things in my inbox this morning

Here are some photos I took in the happy time when I still had a life.

"I believe in distinct society – as long as someone else pays for it"

2008-10-18T15:37:00.003+02:00

Oh those crazy Québécois; they'll do anything!

Have to admit though, cheese with french fries does make sense.

Welcome Back

2008-09-22T22:25:00.000+02:00

I step off the night train from Berlin into a rare morning sun of the Gare du Nord. Make my way through the station's wrought iron pillars like spindly tree trunks. Descend into the cavernous left luggage office to drop off my suitcase before heading off to teach. Go through the whole ordeal of x-raying my bag, emptying my pockets, taking off me belt, only to get inside and find that the change machine for the lockers is out of service. Back out through security and out to buy something I don't need then back again through all over again.

Go to the métro entrance to buy a ticket and find huge lines 20 people deep, to buy tickets at the counter. No automatic ticket machines. Go to the next entrance, find automatic ticket machines, half are out of service, an unstaffed ticket counter and more huge lines 20 people deep.

Finally get on the platform and hear the chimes of a service announcement: "Due to a strike by railway workers, service is currently disrupted and no trains are circulating outside of peak hours..."

Welcome back to France.

My Walk Across Canada

2008-09-15T18:16:00.001+02:00

Alternate title: My Walk From One Canada to Another

A sunny September day, I set out to walk across Canada in Paris.

I started at the Place du Canada and set out for my destination, la rue du Canada, seeing what I could along the way.

Place du Canada is tucked away behind the granite Belle Epoque extravagance of the Grand Palais (the Rocky Mountains?), right on the bank of the Seine (the St Lawrence?). I thought it bizarrely apropos that the intersection of Franklin D Roosevelt Avenue and Queen's Way was the Place du Canada.

Ironically, the Rue du Canada abuts the Rue de la Guadeloupe, which the French decided to keep in exchange for handing over Canada to the British after the Seven Years War in 1763.

A beautiful view of the place. Maybe meant to represent the Praries?

Some friends I picked up along the way.

My Canada includes Quebec.

Weird and spooky abandoned market I came across.

Canada Retouch? Indeed it does.

Destination: Rue du Canada

Rue du Canada seen from the intersection of Rue de la Guadeloupe.

Andorran Vignette

2008-09-07T22:47:00.009+02:00

The lunchtime sun shines off the mountainside into the river valley and I pause in front of a restaurant jostled between duty-free electronics stores. I consider the menu taped to the stucco as the restauranteur approaches. "Come in! Eat! Its good." I sit down. "¿Hablas español?" "–Sí, sí" I respond as Mr Moustache hands me a menu, written entirely in Catalan. Some recognisable, but what is "Botifarra amb mongetes"? "Xipiros"? "Espatlla de xai lostadas"?

Fourty seconds of bewildered menu searching later, Mr Moustache returns. "Are you ready to order?"
—"No. This menu is Catalan, not Spanish."
—"It's the same thing!" Shakes his head, and walks away –presumably to get a new menu. However, he does not return, affronted by my horrible linguistic faux-pas.

The sun blazes through the azur and shadows make pavid slants. I realise I will never know what "xipiros" are. I walk across the street to the welcoming arms of a picture menu, happy for the glossy, unjudgemental embrace of its laminated photographs.

Operation T.D.

2008-09-03T11:00:00.004+02:00

William Burrows writes about the 'Annexia', but it sounds more like France to me:

"I deplore brutality," he said. "It's not efficient. On the other hand, prolonged mistreatment, short of physical violence, gives rise, when skilfully applied, to anxiety and a felling of special guilt. A few rules or rather guiding principles are to be borne in mind. The subject must not realize that the mistreatment is a deliberate attack of an anti-human enemy on his personal identity. He must be made to feel that he deserves any treatment he receives because there is something (never specified) horribly wrong with him. The naked need of the control addicts must de decently covered by an arbitrary and intricate bureaucracy so the subject cannot contact his enemy direct."

Every citizen of Annexia was required to apply for and carry on his person at all times a whole portfolio of documents. Citizens were subject to be stopped in the street at any time; and the Examiner, who might be in plain clothes, in various uniforms, often in a bathing suit or pyjamas, sometimes stark naked except for a badge pinned to his left nipple, after checking each paper, would stamp it. On subsequent inspection the citizen was required to show the properly entered stamps of the last inspection. The Examiner, when he stopped a large group, would only examine and stamp the cards of a few. The others were then subject to arrest because their cards were not properly stamped. Arrest meant "provisional detention"; that is, the prisoner would be released if and when his Affidavit of Explanation, properly signed and stamped, was approved by the Assistant Arbiter of Explanations. Since this official hardly ever came to his office, and the Affidavit of Explanation had to be presented in person, the explainers spent weeks and months waiting around in unheated offices with no chairs and no toilet facilities.

Documents issued in vanishing ink faded into old pawn tickets. New documents were constantly required. The citizen rushed from one bureau to another in a frenzied attempt to meet impossible deadlines.

Naa Naa Joutai In Da Club

2008-08-24T22:15:00.005+02:00

This popped up on my iTunes today. It reminded me that I'd never gotten around to posting the video. Namie Amuro is one of the only J-Pop singers I really got into when I was there. She's originally from Okinawa, which is probably the reason why she's so cool (and why she sings part in English, because of all the American military bases there).

安室奈美恵 — Wowa

The Worst Week of My Life

2008-08-21T19:58:00.004+02:00

On Friday night, going home from a friend's house, I got in a bicycle accident. A car turned right and didn't see me in the bike lane. I braked to avoid crashing into the car, and wiped out trying to stop.

Since I was bleeding all over my favourite polo shirt, I had to got to the hospital to get stitches (two under my eyebrow). On the way to the hospital I lost my house keys. My roommate is in New York until the end of September, so the next morning I had to wander around for two hours to find a locksmith that was open on Saturday during August vacations. When I did eventually find one, he said he couldn't change the lock because it was lunch time! I almost jumped over the counter and strangled him!

After he had his lunch, he came over, charged me €800, and broke the lock. But then said that he didn't have the right lock to replace mine and would have to come back on Monday morning to finish it! AAAAAGHHH!!! WHY would you break a lock if you knew you couldn't replace it!?! I had to carry a screwdriver around with me all weekend so I could jimmy the lock open with it.

Then Monday, my bank card was declined when I tried to use it. Of course there is no Customer Service number to phone in France, so I had to go in to the branch and talk to someone who said that it would be fixed tomorrow — which, of course it wasn't. So I went back to the branch and was told I had to make an appointment with the branch manager to talk about my card. Now four days later –during which time I am unable to get money from my card– I meet with the bank manager and she tells me my account has been closed "on suspicion of money laundering". I had taken cash from my student line of credit at a bank machine to deposit in my French account to pay for tuition fees. Apparently, this is completely not allowed in France, to, you know, deposit money into your account, then try to use it later! Account closed — No ifs, ands or buts.

If it wasn't so bloody impossible to open a bank account in this country I would have simply said "Fuck you" and opened and account elsewhere. But instead I spent half an hour screaming and being a general asshole (because that's how to get things done in France) before the bank manager agreed to reopen my account with a €100 weekly limit. "But it's my money. Shouldn't I be able to access it whenever I want?" I said. "Non" she answered, "not in these circumstances."

I also got in a big argument on Wednesday with my loser ex-rommate who doesn't want to give me my €1100 deposit back because he wants me to pay to have the room repainted.

I think I've said "I hate France" more times in these past seven days than all the past twelve months put together. And it makes me wonder, did I actually ever, even once, say "I hate Japan" when I was living there?

Two adventures abroad that could not be more different.

1, 2, 3, 4

2008-08-15T11:08:00.002+02:00

Um, Feist is like, my new favouritest person in the whole universe ever!

Castles, Cathedrals and Cheeses, oh my!

2008-08-12T16:56:00.005+02:00

Only four or so months behind schedule, but here is the link to my photo album from my Mum's lovely visit to France in May.

We visited Normandy, Île-de-France (which isn't an island at all), and the imaginatively named "Centre" région. A great chance to get out of Paris and see a different côté of the country.

Thanks Mum!

Photo Album link

Canadian Humour

2008-08-08T20:19:00.005+02:00

A French friend of mine asked me "What iz zee Canadian yumour?"

I thought I would have to go into this whole lengthy explanation of how Canada is stuck in some kind of grey zone between reruns of Are You Being Served? and sight gags with Balki and Cousin Larry. But then I realised, no, this is Canadian humour, and thank bloody God for it! :

Pure brilliance. Yeay Canada!

Music Meme

2008-08-05T00:25:00.006+02:00

I usually hate when people ask me what kind of music I like, because then I'm forced to answer "80s electro-synth-disco and cock rock", then have them look at me all judging like. Pfft – as if I didn't already know that they all secretly rock out to AC/DC when they think no one is around.

But, I've come across some cool stuff recently and decided to steal MA's music post idea thingy and try to pass it off as my own.

The rules are as follows:

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now.

Sonny J
Handsfree

Teki Latex
Les Matins de Paris

Bow Wow Wow
I Want Candy (Kevin Shields Remix)

MGMT
Kids'

Simian Mobile Disco
I Got This Down
—I apologise for the lame-o YouTube. There's no real video and this is all there was. Best just to listen and not watch.

Nelly Furtado vs. Mika
Say It Relaxed

Feist
1234 (Van She Remix)

He finally got a piece of the pie

2008-07-26T10:47:00.004+02:00

That's right, I'm movin' on up. Goodbye crazy religious gay roommate and hello "Tale of Two Cities" revolutionary fervour of Faubourg St-Antoine!

My current apartment is pretty nice, all mouldings and marble fireplace and all. I have a nice view of all the protests in Paris too; they always march down Boulevard Voltaire, right underneath my window. They only hitch is my total wacko-jacko roomie. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy. He's just totally bonkers. And now he's asked me to move out because his internet boyfriend from Germany is moving to Paris. (I'm maintaining a strict "Don't ask, Don't tell" policy for that. Double yikes!).

No hard feelings, but given the awful time I had the first time around, I was dreading the apartment hunt experience. I did see some particullarly horrible places ("Oh, I see, you would like me to pay €500 to share your 7th-floor walk-up studio which is aproximately the size of a small thimble?" "Sorry, I was under the impression I was here to see an apartment, not a storage closet for Toblerones", of one apartment tucked under the building roof made up of nothing but slanty walls).

Then I went to Faubourg St-Antoine and new instantly I wanted to live there. I hoped and begged and prayed (and considered bribery too) that I would get the apartment. Thankfully, our Lord and Saviour, Betty White, provides for those in need. When my future new roommate called, I think I may have squealed, or swooned, or a little bit of both.

The new place is big, across the street (literally) from the métro and Vélib' stations, and the site of endless barricades being thrown up at various tumultuous points during French history. Very Les Misérables chic. I love it.

From the Philosopher’s Stone to the Deathly Hallows and back again

2008-07-15T23:49:00.004+02:00

I’m 150 pages away from finishing Harry Potter and I’m not sure I like it.

Admittedly, I was quite sceptical when the series first came out. “Children’s books” I dismissed them as. “Not my cup of tea” I said. But after some light badgering in the Micronesia Mall, Jase convinced me to buy a cheap paperback copy of The Philosopher’s Stone to read on the plane coming back from Guam. I was an instant convert.

Five years and thousands of pages later, it’s almost come to its end and I’m having trouble coping. I even decided that I wanted to reread all the books before starting the last book in the series. Then, to draw out the task even more, I decided to reread the series in French. This certainly slowed me down a bit, and introduced words like “barn owl” and “cloak” into my French vocabulary. But nevertheless I persevered and in less than a year enjoyed reading À l’école des sorciers, La Chambre des secrets, Le Prisonnier d’Azkaban, La Coup de feu, L’Ordre du Phénix and Le Prince de sang-mélé as much as I did the first time around. I even debated reading them all in Spanish as well, but I knew full well I was just trying to buy time.

I have to recognise Ms Rowling for being an exceptional authoress. She imagined a world out of nothing. She created characters you identified with and then had them change and develop. The plot is highly complex, almost every element and detail becomes significant at a later point, yet the whole thing seems effortless. Without trying to be overly smaltzy, I have no choice but to call Harry Potter a masterwork of contemporary literature.

And in a few hours of reading, it will all be over. The characters won’t embark on new adventures. I’ll never know what happens after. It’ll be time to let go. Sniff.

Bye-bye!

2008-07-12T16:55:00.005+02:00

I got on the train leaving Charles de Gaulle airport and I cried. I felt sad knowing that, with MM now on a plane back to Canada, I was, once again, very far from the people who cared about me.

I consider myself extremely lucky to have met Michael for three reasons. First, our meeting was very much by chance. If it hadn’t been for Couchsurfing.com and our friends who told us about it, our lives would have never crossed. Second reason is that MM arrived in my life at the time when I most needed a friend. The holidays were over, Polish gone; I felt isolated and alone. The grey tyranny of Parisian winter was pulling me down and school started taking a heavy toll. MM’s appearance on the scene changed everything for the better. And for this I am immeasurably grateful. Third reason, and more than anything else, he is an extraordinary individual. Kind, genuine, hilarious. Not a moment spent together that wasn’t brilliant.

Our first meeting was at a dingy rock bar in Bastille. By our third meeting shortly thereafter, it felt to me that we had been best friends for half a lifetime. We talked endlessly about our growing and mutual hatred of French universities, made tacos in maid’s rooms and generally annoyed my roommate. We helped each other through the many horrible curveballs the city threw at us, drank wine by the Seine and never stopped laughing at the “France” episode of Ab Fab, no matter how many times we watched it.

MM, I owe a lot to you, and, as the Golden Girls once put it, “Thank you for being a friend.” See you at Christmas!

Paris Pride Photo Essay

2008-06-28T23:31:00.004+02:00

Let's get this party started

There was an old man inside this bus stop who looked like he couldn't figure out why the bus was so behind schedule

D&G – "Drunk and Gorgeous"

Rockin' the rosé on Boulevard St-Michel

Crazy girl who came up to us and said "You're from Cananda?! I love you!! Whaaaa!" – Best picture ever!

P with hottie French police officers

A looOOong story!

The end!

"'Ay will heet you with my baguette!"

2008-06-24T21:45:00.002+02:00

I was walking down the street to visit my friends Cindy and Michael and a young woman was riding her bicycle down the sidewalk. Slightly irritating, yes, but in the grand scheme of things, completely inconsequential. I didn't see exactly what happened next, but I turned around and this older couple was in a full-out shouting match with the girl on her bicycle. "Your filthy bicycle belongs on the street!!" — "Why don't you have the decency to look where you're going?!" — That kind of stuff. And next thing I knew it, the man was threatening to hit the girl with his baguette! If it hadn't been so completely hilarious, I would have scandalised.

She just rode away from their screams and no baguettes were injured in the course of the altercation.

A Trip to the Supermarket

2008-06-20T21:12:00.004+02:00

Aimlessly searching through the shelves: "Excuse me sir, where is the cocoa powder?"
"Pfft!" Looking me up and down, "It's in the coffee aisle!"

Oh, well, excuse me. Not with the baking products then? Or next to the chocolates? Oh of course! With the coffee – How stupid of me! I mean, I know the marzipan is between the laundry detergent and chicken breasts. So how could I possibly not know that the cocoa powder is next to the coffee?

A Quarter of an Effing Point — Update

2008-06-12T10:38:00.006+02:00

I finally got a response to the second email I sent to the director of my programme regarding my eighth of a point fail. (My first one having gone unanswered). I tried to appeal to her sense of logic, reason, compassion and pity to let me pass, rather than failing me for a ridiculous 0.125 of a point.

Surprise surprise, that harpy bitch troll said there "was nothing she could do."

...Bah! As if I didn't hate that place enough already. Now I have to resit that awful bloody exam all over again.

On a happier note, my new favourite song:

A Quarter of an Effing Point!

2008-06-03T23:48:00.002+02:00

Yesterday end-of-term marks were finally made available. Being France of course the marks were not available on the internet, or put in the mail. No. Don't be silly. That would make sense and be convenient. To get your grades in France, you have to go to the school in person and sign a form in triplicate.

Generally I consider myself smart enough to pass an exam I studied like a maniac for. But I've been here long enough to know not to take anything for granted. Just scraping by seems to be my norm. (Does it have something to do with the suspiciously high rate of failure among the non-francophone student body? Perhaps). I was not the least bit surprised to see a string of 12s and 13s (a 12 -rather than 10- out of 20 being the required mark to pass, since ÉSIT thinks it's so much better than anywhere else). And there it was. Staring at me. A shiny red 11. In 'Introduction to Law' – a course taught by one of the most horrible people I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. A terrible professor and all-around terrible human being. Sample quote: "I know none of you want to be here, but trust me, I want to be here even less."

Thankfully, French universities have a ridiculous system of averaging grades between certain courses, so if you got, say, 8 in Astro-physics and 16 in the History of Comic Books, you still pass because the average of the two classes is still 12. But nothing is never that easy here... Further down my report card it's marked that I have to rewrite the Law exam. (No indication as to why of course). So I went to the registrars office to find the reason I was supposed to rewrite the exam if my 11 in Law was averaged with a 13 in Economic Environment and 12.5 in Economic Theory. She didn't know. I'm then directed to talk to a different woman in a different office. She tells me that the Law mark is not averaged with any other course. "Oh, really?" I reply, "I thought it was." "No. It's not," all snitty, "I think I know my own job better than you. You all did very badly in Law. All the students who should have studied harder have come to me complaining. You have to rewrite the exam, point final."

Charming.

And, as it turns out, I did know her own job better than she did. A look in the course calendar when I got home clearly stated that the two Economics classes are averaged with Law – problem being that they are averaged with each other before being averaged with the Law mark. Meaning I am a quarter of a bloody point away from avoiding the nightmarish hell that is restudying and resitting the exam for that awful class. A quarter of a point!

I was so mad. Furious really. I still am. That school is like a black cloud poisoning my life. I can't believe I still have two more years to go (...assuming I don't fail by 3/16ths of a point the second time too).

Hands up Baby

2008-05-25T12:04:00.003+02:00

More to come soon on my amazing adventures in the French countryside. But in the mean time, lets take a moment to reflect on the amazingness of the Eighties:

I think Alice Coopers said it best: Schoooool's Out For Summer!!

2008-05-15T22:33:00.002+02:00

And maybe a boy can dream of the "School's been blown to pieces" line too.

Last week I finished my remaining slew of exams. A few days later I was cycling across the Pont de Sully and started to feel strange. As I kept going along the Quai de la Tournelle I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. Past Notre-Dame Cathedral and its attendant flocks of tourists, and on to the Fontaine St-Michel. Then, it occurred to me. I was happy! I didn't have exams to stress over or university administration to hate or weather to complain about. Paris is great and all is right with the world.

This got me to thinking about what was wrong before. The answer of course is all too clear. School. A dark cloud that hung over me, poisoning everything it touched. No wonder I was going crazy! Now just two more hateful, alienating years to go... Sigh. Best not to think about that and focus on amazing summer funness.

My mum arrives early tomorrow and we are off to explore Normandy, the Loire and other places. It'll be great to see her, get out of Paris and finally see a different side of France.

Andouillette

2008-05-08T21:13:00.005+02:00

After our last exam yesterday evening, the student union organised a party in the park behind the school. People brought wine and snacks and generally got drunk having fun in the sun. One person happened to bring a charming French dish known as "andouillette." I figured, why not try? I was never going buy some of this delightful, savoury surprise myself, so it was a golden opportunity to sample one of France's lesser known delicacies.

I think the Wikipedia entry adequately describes the bountiful pleasures of andouillette and my wonderful experience eating it. Read on.

En bas l'État, les flics et les patrons!

2008-05-01T17:26:00.004+02:00

May 1st is International Socialist Labour Day - a holiday in super-socialist France - and the parade is passing right under my window! It's kind of like Pride, but with fewer drag queens and more communists, still going on three hours after it started.

It's a strange experience being in a place that really is so socialist. Unlike China, where they only pay lip service to socialism or communist ideals, France really does feel about two degrees away from the Soviet Union. The equality part of "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité" has made solidarity the motivating force behind French economic policy. This had translated into some very interesting "Intro to Economics" classes. So many of the ideas and principals are far removed from what we get exposed to in Liberal, laissez-faire North America.

Last week I did a language evaluation for a guy who works at a large French insurance company. His job was to organise the company trips. Twice a year the company subsidies its employees to go on vacation to places like Madagascar! While we're worried about how we're going to split up our two weeks of holidays, people in France are having their employers pay for them to sit on the beach (or take a tango class or go back to school).

Couldn't we have just a touch more solidarity back home? Would it really be too much to ask?

Many Moons Ago

2008-04-17T22:06:00.003+02:00

While massively procrastinating from studying for exams, I was going through my old sent mail folder and came across this email I sent to someone in 2003 who asked me how things were going in Japan.

I thought I'd share this trip down memory lane with all of you:

" Lots of stuff has happen in the last little while, all very interesting stuff like how I had to be in a dumb kabuki play about the 47 ronin and I wanted to be Yoshi but they made me be Ori. But then Mothra cut a huge swath through downtown and crushed the Hello Kitty factory, so it didn't matter anyway because I didn't have a job anymore. So I became a geisha, but it was fucking hard and there was this guy who kept doing stuff for me cause I picked up his hankerchief. Then the A-bomb killed all the samurai and the Emperor committed hara-kiri with a cherry blossom branch and I was right back where I started at the Osaka Seafood Concern. Oh, and I discovered the secrect to inner peace,.. but that's a whole other email. "

One Word Meme

2008-04-14T20:13:00.005+02:00

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

1. Where is your mobile phone? Book-bag

2. Your significant other? None

3. Your hair? Uncooperative

4. Your mother? Nicole

5. Your father? Philip

6. Your favorite thing? Summer

7. Your last dream? Hispano-Suiza

8. Your favorite drink? Booze

9. Your dream/goal? Money

10. The room you're in? Parisian

11. Your ex? BFF

12. Your fear? Failing

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Home

14. Where were you last night? Studying

15. What you're not? Supercalafragilistic

16. Muffins? Please!

17. One of your wish list items? Pants

18. Where you grew up? Everywhere

19. The last thing you did? Dinner

20. What are you wearing? Couture

21. Your TV? Non-existant

22. Your pets? Imaginary

23. Your computer? Vaio

24. Your life? Intercontinental

25. Your mood? Anxiety

26. Missing someone? Yes

27. Your car? Hahahahaah!

28. Something you're not wearing? Sari

29. Favorite Store? Marui

30. Your summer? Frisboi

31. Like someone? Me

32. Your favorite color? Lime

33. When is the last time you laughed? Saturday

34. Last time you cried? January

35. Who will/would re-post this? Everyone

Move down! Clean cup!

2008-04-07T23:07:00.004+02:00

In case you were wondering, this is what a typical day in France is like for me.

"She's Got Greta Garbo Stand-off Sighs"

2008-04-06T15:33:00.006+02:00

Oh how I miss karaoke!

Even though Paris does have a "Little Tokyo" of sorts, I have yet to find any karaokeage of any kind. Most is distression to my emotionals and distractioning to mine singings.

I think there's no karaoke here because French people don't like to get roaringly drunk and belt out AC/DCs greatest hits. Pity.

Tibet, China, Xinhua News Agency and the Ministry of Truth

2008-03-29T23:33:00.000+01:00

I notice it’s been a while since I’ve gotten all ranty. I’ve been busy with other things; mostly trying to keep from losing my mind because of my university. But the violence in Tibet is bringing out the finger-wagging in me – and not just wagging, but pointing and reviling and j’accuse-ing too!

Xinhua, the Chinese state news agency, is publishing such total bullcrap with regards to the situation! It literally makes me livid with rage when I read the complete nonsense they come out with, trying every possible attempt to spin this public relations disaster. Then, I get even more raging when I remember that for the average person living in China, the only source of information they have is this brainwash 1984 Newspeak!

“Some monks even deliberately maimed each other, and then took photographs in order to make a sensation in the world.” ¹

“Throughout the incident, Lhasa police officers exercised great restraint. They remained patient, professional and were instructed not to use force. In humanitarian spirit, they even rescued the malicious monks who attempted sensation through hurting themselves.”²

“Lian said of the Dalai Lama: "He appears as a follower of non-violence. As for whether he is a terrorist, we mainly see he is involved in terrorist activities."”³

Or, if that wasn’t nauseating enough, there are some further examples here and here of the complete rubbish that Chinese people have to put up with every day.

For the last 30 or so years the Dalai Lama has being trying to find a way for Tibetan culture to be allowed to continue under Chinese rule. He has stated on numerous occasions that Tibet is a part of China. Xinhua just doesn’t want to listen. They endlessly repeat over and over that the Dalai Lama and his “splittest cliques” are trying to “carve Tibet out of the motherland”⁴ and hold the Olympic Games hostage⁵. — Going on the time I lived in China, I think most people are conscious of the fact that the Chinese press is pure propaganda — but just like that whole Richard Gere – gerbil thing, there is only so many times you can hear something before you have to begin to wonder. —Xinhua News Agency, spreader of mis- and dis-information, Communist party mouthpiece and sorry excuse for journalism: You are dead to me!

Young Tibetans are pissed because the Dalai Lama’s nicey-nice has gotten them nowhere, the Chinese government is just as heavy-handed as ever, and their way of life is threatened by large-scale migration of ethnic Han Chinese to Tibet.

I, for one, am glad that the situation is continuing and spreading — particularly to Xinjiang, another ethnic minority area forcibly integrated into China by the Communist Party in the 1950s. I can only hope the ongoing unrest will force Western governments to stop thinking with their pocketbooks about the huge Chinese market, stop turning a blind eye to all of the country’s flagrant human rights abuses, and finally start pressuring the Chinese Communist Party to behave like an honest member of the international community.

Polish in Paris

2008-03-14T18:37:00.005+01:00

I've been working like a crazy person, trying to translate a copyright agreement for a friend of a friend. So totally in over my head, looking up basically every single word of the document, every day until three in the morning. Yikes! But it was $$$, and, uh, I guess good practice too. I've turned off my brain to recuperate for the next few days, but in the mean time, here is a photoblog I meant to put up a long time ago, but never got around to it. Please enjoy this retrospective of the many Parisian sights and monuments Polish asked me to take his picture in front of.

Montmartre

Cathédral Notre-Dame

Hôtel des Invalides

Place St-Michel

Place de la Concorde - 3am New Year's

Tombe de Napoléon

Jardin de Luxembourg

Palais Chaillot

Place de la Varsovie - Warsaw Square

I'm (mildly) famous!

2008-03-05T08:52:00.004+01:00

Of course you already all knew that, but now travel website Gadling.com has taken up my cause against Lonely Planet guidebooks to Burma.

Check out their story here.

French humour

2008-03-04T10:35:00.004+01:00

Two cats have to swim across the English Channel. One is called "Undeuxtrois", and the other "Onetwothree". Which one wins?

Onetwothree, because the Undeuxtrois cat sank.

All day, All day

2008-03-01T19:38:00.003+01:00

Still no decisions vis-à-vis my homecoming, but maybe some sizzling-hot Puerto Ricans will take your mind off it.

You know Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe just sat around thinking of video concepts where they would need to, um, "cast" swarthy young guys to take their shirts off and frolic about in the surf. Dirty old scoundrels! I loves it!

Pet Shop Boys
"Domino Dancing"

My favourite part is at the begining, when she's walking past the construction worker who's so hot, she just chucks her bicycle into the street. Loves it!

Homecoming Queen Dilemmas

2008-02-27T21:10:00.002+01:00

I've been thinking and debating about when I should finagle my escape from the land of brie and Bordeaux to schedule some QT with all my amazing confreres and countrymen back in TO.

I have my return plane ticket which must be used before 12 September. The problem being that if I visit late summer-ish, I'm away when I should be making money. This is a big problem, because I have no money :-( On the converse side, the weather is hot and sunny, frisboi beckons, everyone is happy, pitchers of sangria abound.

Were I to visit at Christmas, I forfeit the return part of the ticket have and buy a new Paris-Toronto-Paris ticket. Not as much fun weather-wise, but more of course more family, turkey, stuffing, presents and tourtière. Speaking from past experience, holiday visits skew towards the hectic as there is always much scuttling across the frozen landscape to be done; Toronto, Belleville, Toronto, relatives, friends, New Years. It all gets to be a bit much.

Then of course there's always the problem of not knowing exactly when the semester starts or finishes... Decisions, decisions.... Unfortunately I don't think I can afford to do both.

Thoughts?

Exams

2008-02-24T19:21:00.005+01:00

As with everything in France, my exam schedule is illogical and unclear. I have school, then two weeks of Easter holiday at the end of april, then come back for the first week of may, then am done the semester.

As if it wasn't already strange enough having a two week break, then coming back for one week of school (of which a day is already a national holiday), then finishing; no one seems to know when the exams are! Some professors have said exams are in the last week of class, others have said in the week after classes end, and yet others in the week before easter vacation! – Officially, according to the registrar's office, the exam period "hasn't been decided yet." – What! How can they not know? They've had the whole bloody year to figure it out!

I would say the whole thing was completely ridiculous, if I wasn't already so used to such nonsensical French shenanigans.

New Favourite Video?

2008-02-21T09:44:00.003+01:00

It's too close to call between this homage to all my favourite James Bond title sequences and the techo-Bollywood, many arms of Vishnu 80s Pac-Man extravaganza that is M.I.A.'s "Jimmy"

Scissor Sisters — "The Land of a Thousand Words"

And the winner of the WTTMB prize for best video of 2007 goes to...

Just Add It To The List

2008-02-19T22:01:00.005+01:00

The other day there was a meeting for the first year students at my school. Among other things, they talked about the exchange programme which the school offers. This programme was definitely one of the features that drew me to ESIT in the first place. I was muy excited by the opportunity to live in Madrid for a semester, see a different part of Europe and improve my Spanish all at the same time. —Did you notice the use of the past tense? I was excited by this exchange programme. It turns out that you can't get any credit for the courses you do while you're away! Um, doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of an exchange programme? And what's more is that you can't come back and finish the rest of the year here; you're just out a whole year with nothing to show for it! Mais c'est completement insensé! Completely ridiculous! What is the point of even having this programme then if you can't get credit and have to miss a year?

Students from other schools, however, who come here on the exchange programme do get credit for their classes. –Why? The read between the line answer is that my school is so full of itself that they think classes we were to do elsewhere couldn't possibly match the outstanding calibre and level of instruction we have here.

Honestly, how pretentious can you actually be? Although, this is France, so I guess the answer is very.

Daddy needs a new pair of taglines!

2008-02-13T22:45:00.007+01:00

I need two taglines, and I'm having trouble coming up with something snappy. Now who better to help me than you? Yes, you!

I need a tagline for all of the amazing 80s videos I'm discovering. It was a crazy, interesting time for music videos back then, experimenting and throwing it all together with a shoestring and a dream. Everything was exciting and everything was possible. —Sure, videos nowadays may have syncronised laser pyrotechnics and choreographed booty poppin', but where is the randomness? The fun?

In the interim, I've labeled these posts I Want My MTV, which was their original slogan when it first went to air in 1981. We didn't, however, have MTV in Canada until a few years ago, so I think there must be a better choice.

I've also decided to collect all of my stories about ÉSIT – the bumbling excuse for scholasticism that is my "university." I know there's tonnes of lyrics, movies, Simpsons quotes and Chinese fortune cookie sayings about schools and/or languages, but absolutely nothing is coming to mind right now.

All thoughts, feelings, emotions are warmly welcome!

Merci pour votre aide.

Perfectionnement français : expression écrite & orale

2008-02-13T09:24:00.007+01:00

In my exams last semester I got an 18/20 on my exam for Perfecting your Written and Oral French. I'm pretty proud of it because 1) in the derisory French school system, a 15 is considered the best score you can realistically hope for, and 2) the prof is this effusive, extravagant writer and I really value her opinion.

For the benefit of all you French readers, I've reposted part of that exam here. The prof gave us a list of ten words, then we had to incorporate the words into a 10-line story. See if you can pick out what the words were.

Sa fuite n’est pas sans danger

Vietnam, Indochine de mystère. Dans les paddys du Mékong ; étouffant, un été éternel. Une jeune veuve, Minh, s’enferme dans sa maison. Le monde qui l’entoure l’ennuie depuis la mort de son gentil mari, un marchant de cacahuètes. La saleté de la campagne, la pudeur du naturel. Elle veut, elle doit, retourner à Saïgon, le glamour, l’excitation. Mais ses beaux-parents l’enchainent, ils sont zidanes.

La mélancolie est oppressive pour Minh, elle meurt ici. C’est en fumant l’opium qu’elle vit vraiment. Elle rêve de Saïgon ; les bruits de voitures, le clac des tuiles quand elle jouait au mah-jongg avec ses amies. Sa fuite n’est pas sans danger. Les beaux-parents pourraient la découvrir, la dénoncer, la jeter dans la rue. Mais elle n’y pense pas. Toute ce qu’elle veut c’est retourner au Saïgon qu’elle a connue.

Da Pity Party is Ova'!

2008-02-08T19:00:00.001+01:00

When the Christmas vacations finished, I was feeling all sorry for myself. The holidays were finished, Paul was back in Canada, no more Morocco to look forward to, a whole semester of ridiculousness stretched out ahead of me. No money. French bureaucracy. Winter. Boo-hoo-hoo. Woe is me.

How boring to sit around moping all the time. I decided the pity party was over! As soon as I decided that, things started looking much better. — I may still be trapped in some 1984-Kafka hybrid of insane bureaucracy, but at least I can laugh about it, walk along the Seine and eat fancy pastries.

At the same time, after months of sending out résumés and getting no response whatsoever, people started falling over themselves to offer me jobs. Crazy. So I took a job that starts in a few weeks teaching English to people in the financial sector (Welcome to Dullsville, population: me. It pays pretty well however). I also took another sideline job on a casual basis as an airport transferist (a person who collects rich American tourists from Charles-de-Gaulle airport and puts them on shuttles to their hotels). Looks like I wont need to be working the corner of Rivoli and St-Paul after all...

Eighties Video Amazingness Continues!

2008-02-02T13:26:00.000+01:00

New Order - True Faith

Sure, videos today might have solid gold jets filled with rappers' girlfriends dressed in Catholic schoolgirl uniforms, but do they have giant monopod turtle-humans who know sign language?

Also, it is the first week of February and there are already flowers in the park!! I'm so glad winter is basically over here. Winter is certainly one thing about Canada I will never miss!

Circus Interrogatorius: Travel

2008-01-31T20:30:00.000+01:00

In keeping with my second New Year's resolution, which was to steal good ideas from other blogs and pretend they're mine own, I hope to make CI a regular feature (though perhaps not weekly as it's done here).

The premise is quite simple really. I ask five questions. All y'all write five answers. You can either answer in the comment section provided, or if you are blogerationnally-inclined, you could answer in your blog and just post your link in the comment section. Today's theme is travel.

Habeas deliciæ! (Have fun, in Latin)

1. Someone is going to drop you off at your local airport early tomorrow morning. You can take any flight leaving the airport for a free holiday. Where will you go? (Please consider: flights actually leaving your local airport tomorrow)

2. You have a holiday coming up and can visit one city on each continent. Which ones will you visit, and for how long?

3. If you had to live in a country (other than the one you think of as 'home') and had to stay in that country for the rest of your life, where would you choose?

4. Part 1: You have $100 and must travel somewhere for a month. Where will you go? (Please consider: cost of living, opportunities to work, people you could mooch off of, etc. –Ah ah ah! No borrowing money! The $100 doesn't have to pay for your travel to the place you want to go). Part 2: You have 100,000$, but only 24 hours. Where will you go to spend it? (No buying real estate, gold bricks, etc.)

5. What is a vacation; relaxation or adventure?

Bonus question: what's your favourite vacation memory from when you were a kid?

Animotion – Obsession

2008-01-31T12:37:00.000+01:00

Freakin' A!

I love the 80s!!

Fashion Week

2008-01-25T10:35:00.000+01:00

It's Fashion Week again in Paris. "Week" is a bit of a misnomer because it actually spreads out over several weeks for men's collections, prêt-à-porter, haute-couture, etc. I've been keeping an eye out for my old friend Linda, but she's been pretty busy lately. We'll do lunch at Alain Ducasse next time she pops over.

Women's collections were all about vooooluuume. More pleats and flaps and bubbles than you could have ever imagined. A dress so big that you can only fit in the elevator by yourself – Yeah, that's what I'm talkin 'bout.

Men's collections were pretty conservative. –Maybe playing it safe in this uncertain economic climate? Let's see... We still can't live without hats. Dark grey is the new black. Ties remain skinny, jeans less so. Tendency towards flat-fronted trousers in general. Long hair is officially over. Shoes still pointy, but a softer, happier pointy. Prada collection absolutely unwearable!

You can check out all the collections here.

I love Australians!

2008-01-25T09:37:00.000+01:00

Real Life Risky Business

...."if you ever need a party organised, get me to do it!" Hi-larious!

Best! Continent! Ever!

The Time is Nigh for some Self Improvement

2008-01-20T00:27:00.000+01:00

Another year under my belt. A little older, yes; but a little wiser?

My birthday being so close to New Year's, it's always been a good time to stop and look at the bigger picture. While I'm stopping and looking I figured it'd also be a good time to ask for some help in becoming a better person.

And what better path to personal growth than stealing ideas from other blogs? If you could take five minutes to leave an anonymous comment for me, I would be ever so terribly grateful.

Good thing, Bad thing

Knowing that you, my friends and family, all love and accept me 100% the way I am now, I'm asking you to leave a brief little comment with one good thing you really like about me and one bad thing you don't like. –"Don't like" is of course much too harsh, but "Good thing, Constructive criticism thing" isn't a very snappy name. No need to beat around the bush; my feelings won't be hurt.

I feel it's important see the difference in perception between how you see yourself and how others see you. The things I don't like about myself might be completely irrelevant to others. Other things I do like about myself might not even be on the radar. People may see merits where I saw faults. The point is I'll never know until I ask.

So fire away. Shoot from the hip. No holds barred. Etcetera and so forth.

Merci beaucoup!

The Death and Life of Ice Cream

2008-01-18T08:54:00.000+01:00

Beautiful.

Fesbulous!

2008-01-10T17:39:00.000+01:00

(Some musical accompaniment for your reading enjoyment; both in traditional and classic formats. Fesbulous photo album here.)

Morocco was so much like a trip to another planet, I'm not even sure where to start. (But I'm told the beginning is a very good place).

Flying on the morning of New Year's Day is never going to be fun, thus no one wants to do it and you can get fly to exotic Morocco on the cheap, which is what Polish and I did. When flying out of Paris you have two choices for airports: the shambolic slag-heap of Charles de Gaulle (watch for falling roof pieces!) or charming and efficient Orly. The only not-so charming thing about Orly is the special €7 monorail train you have to take to get there from the nearby train station. Why so expensive Orly? What gives? The monorail turned out to be one of the most expensive things of what turned out to be an otherwise fesbulous intercontinental holiday. Who knew I'd be back in Darkest Africa so soon?

Landing at Fes' cute-as-a-button little airport was sheer golden-afternoon gorgeousness, all breezy olive groves and mountains in the distance. And after struggling with some immigration-disorganisation, I was quickly struck by just how different everything really was. First thing I saw outside the airport doors: an old Berber lady with face tattoos walking between the orange trees. "This places is gonna be something else" I thought. As our dilapidated taxi lurched along to the hotel, I thought about how airport taxi rides in Asia often leave you with the feeling "this place is the same, only different." Fes, on the other hand, was different, period. Straight away there were minarets and goats in trees, djebellas and shepherds with sheep. Gliding past the Art Deco villas of the French-built 'Ville Nouvelle' towards the medieval Bab Boujeloud gate to the Old City, I couldn't help but feeling I was travelling through time rather than space. Our hotel, former British consulate and one-time host to young Winston Churchill, further added to my temporal confusion.

What a city! We walk down the Petit Talâa and the Grand Talâa –the old city's main streets, barely two meters wide. There are no cars in the Medina. Instead there are donkeys. Delivery donkeys, garbage donkeys, donkeys to pick up your Coke bottles and donkeys to carry camel hides to the smelly tanneries on the other side of the city. Some of you might have even gotten a postcard that was carried out of the Medina on a donkey (and not many people can say that!). We see veiled women at fountains, pigeons waiting to eaten, animal carcasses on hooks, a store full of pickles; the air smells of spices and smoke and the sound of Moroccan horns and drums tumbles out a dark archway. People offer us rugs, tangerines, tajines, pots, pot, Arabic clocks that sound the call to prayer, pewter teapots, Berber jewellery, slippers in ever colour, and at least two donkeys push us out of the way. –We've been there twenty minutes.

Fes is the most complete medieval city in the Arab world and was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1981. The old city is built in a basin, with a spider's web of lanes all sloping down to the Kairaouine Mosque at centre. It's one of the largest mosques in North Africa and, arguably, the most important university in the Islamic world. The city, its people and its 364 other mosques all spiral out from here. Yet strangely, this heart of Fes is almost completely hidden behind the urban fabric of buildings, houses and shops. The best non-Muslims can hope for is a glimpse through an open doorway between prayers. (Lots of stuff in Morocco is off-limits to us infidels). Despite the overt religiosity of the Fes, it didn't feel particularly conservative. There were lots of women out and about, as many without a headscarf as with. Full on veils were pretty rare - I only saw a few.

Something we did see a lot of, however, was buckets and buckets of icy rain our second, third and forth days there. We got wet looking for the best fes-hat shops. We got wet searching the souks for socks. We got wet getting lost. "Will it rain tomorrow?" I ask. –"Only Allah can say" the fes-hat man answers. Barring a direct line to the Big Guy, I remember a valuable travel lesson: it always pays to carry an umbrella (meaning, of course, that you can't leave it in your suitcase at the hotel). "Inshallah it will stop raining soon," but it never really did. We were often wet and cold, but it didn't stop us from rockin' the casbah (though the shareef don't like it).

Overall, I give Fes five muezzins out of five for its dirt-cheap plates and rugs, delicious couscous and pastilla, and general medieval Arab fezmazingness. If I had to do it again, I'd go outside of diluvian flood season, I'd go up to the Merenid tombs where you can get a panorama of the entire old city, and I'd spend more time just wandering the tangled maze of alleys getting lost (which is something that we definitely did not do at all; no taking a wrong turn and walking into the teen hustler section of Fes, no sirree, that did not happen at all). If you decide to go; read The Spider's House by Paul Bowles and watch the Morocco Ab Fab episode.

I'm calling it now: Fes is my new favourite place on the Dark Continent. And though I wasn't able to sell Polish in the market for 2000 dirhams, I have to thank him nonetheless. Shukran for laughing in the rain and for rockin' Moroccan!

Shukran Fes! Truly Fesbulous.

Rock the Casbah!

2008-01-05T12:13:00.000+01:00

Morocco was amazing! Fes is like a trip through a time warp. Photo album and blog post to follow, but in the mean time:

Happy New Year!

2008-01-01T00:01:00.002+01:00

Bonne Année !

2007 Year In Review

2007-12-31T12:46:00.001+01:00

Another year draws to its conclusion – and that can only mean one thing: Top 10 Lists!

What makes the cut and what didn't pass the mustard in the Double-Oh-Seven edition of everyone's favourite intercontinentalist? Let's have a looksee...

Out With The Old
2007 Lowlights, Fiascos, Disasters and Other Miscellaneous Imbroglios

§...Writing the second part of my grad school entrance exam on Good Friday! What kind of God-fearing Catholics are they in

France

to schedule an exam on the day our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ did whatever he did on Good Friday? (Bad Catholics, that's what. The going-to-hell-straight-away kind of Catholics). And it certainly didn't help that the exam started at 10am and lasted until 5:30! Yikes! (What's the French translation for 'permanent nerve damage due to hand cramps'?)

§...The Coalmine, a.k.a my previous job. Oh so much to dislike. Was it the cubicles, or endless paper chase, solving problems that should have never existed in the first place? Maybe it was the hour-long commute to horrid North York? Or maybe the fact that I always felt stupid because my training was inadequate? And four people doing the job of eleven was no fun either. I could go on and on, but I'll just thank god that it's all over now instead!

§...Rdriv.sys virus – how you ruined my life! At a time when I felt "Gee, things can't get any worse," you came along and did just that. I loved paying 200€ trying to get you the hell out of my computer, and in the end you won anyway. You suck and I hate you!

§...The weather in Toronto this summer. As if it wasn't bad enough that it barely broke 25° all summer long, then I had to listen to idiots go on and on about "how nice it was that it was too hot." Uh, when you spend the other nice months of the year worrying how long it will take exposed flesh to freeze, there is no such thing as a summer that's too hot! Why can't you just enjoy it, bitches?

§...My digital camera breaking - the day after my computer died. Again, just when I though things couldn't get any worse, they did. I think I even went through the five stages of grieving when I realised what had happened. Really, the nadir of my time here in Paris (but who knows how many other unforeseen things have yet to go wrong for me in the City of Light, ha ha).

§...Le Consulat Général de France à Toronto; in particular -but not limited to- the Visa Section, the Education Section, their automated telephone system, their online appointment booking system, and all people who have ever worked there or will ever work there in the future – I hate you. Already blogged about here. I am especially upset, however, at the woman in the Education section who said I couldn't apply for French government bursaries as a foreign student if I was outside of

France

. In fact, I could have done exactly that. All I needed to do was to apply at the Education Section of my nearest French diplomatic mission... i.e. - it was her bloody job to tell me about the French government bursaries! She just couldn't be bothered.

§...Anything leading up to, including, and following my Toronto departure was of course a big emotional mess. Taxi to the airport: messy. Aimless what-am-I-doing-with-my-life wandering around Paris: messy. MMC's

Singapore

departure: very messy. Too many bloody mary's on AC880 to Paris: messy.

§...ESIT (my school), blogged about in profusion: 1, 2, 3, 4 . Okay, I know now that French universities are a disorganised nightmare. It still doesn't really make me feel any better. Further example of ridiculousness: I wondered how we were going to get the results of the exams we just finished writing. Perhaps a monk was going to transcribe them onto parchment and they would be delivered to us by carrier pigeon in six to eight months? Or maybe they would tell us to go line up in some random university administration building -open 2 to 3:30 Tuesdays and alternate Thursdays, way out in the middle of nowhere — only to get there and have them tell us that we actually needed to go to a different building on the opposite side of Paris? — I decided to ask a professor how we were going to receive our marks. She said she didn't know. So then I went to the equivalent of the registrar's office to ask them. They didn't know either! How can they not know – they're the bloody registrar!! Honestly, a level of disorganisation that would make

Nicaragua shake its head.

§...Stepping in candle-wax the second time I wore my brand new shoes, thereby ruining them. –I guess it was meant to teach me a lesson about buying too-expensive, fancy shoes. What it really did, however, was make me want to go out and buy even fancier shoes.

§...The far too frequent "have-I-made-a-horrible-life-decision?" moments. While I do think translation is the answer -my school-induced traumas, the apprehension, anxiety, my crash landing, the extra year- are all making me wonder if Paris was really the question.

Hmmn, certainly a grouping of calamity skewed towards the

France

side of the year... On vera ce que ça donne, as my grandmother used to say (we'll see what happens). I declare 2007 to have been the year of the wait-and-see. Plenty of good stuff happened as well:

Best In Show
2007 Hit Parade, Highlights, Accomplishments and diverse Happinesses

‡...Tiki Hula Luau, version XXVIII. Blogged about here. Simply amazing! When Jenni said it was like Holly Golightly's party in Breakfast at Tiffany's I swooned and nearly fainted (or, I nearly Liza'ed, if you speak gay).

‡...Summer beachy fun with the boys, nearly every weekend this summer at Hanlan's. What better way than a photo montage to relive the melanoma-induced amazingness? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

‡...Waking up on Sunday morning with MMC, baking quiche and watching Project Runway on DVD. So fun and so gay! (Just like me!)

‡...This photo. Kawaiiiii!

‡...Finally! –A movie about what it's like to be me! The Curiosity of Chance hits all the right notes and deserves best picture of the year for its genuine and captivating recreation of my formative years (though the small matter of royalties has yet to be settled). Even better was that director Russell Marleau commented on my post!

‡... Centre Island Maze one Sunday at the end of April, the first day of real spring. The first day of spring is always fabulous, and the maze -which I had never been to before- was oozing with spookiness in the slanty afternoon light. Wandering around the creepy overgrown hedges, I thought 'either I'm going to end up in Narnia, or, none of use will ever leave here alive because of some insane axe murderer.' Good times!

‡...Although I have been Complainy Complainerson vis-à-vis Paris, it is still a very beautiful city. Aimless flâneuring always comes up with some charming lane or forgotten courtyard. One particularly Parisian moment involved standing at the very tip of Île de la Cité, at night, in the pouring rain, watching the bateaux-mouches gliding along the murky Seine like a real-life film noir.

‡...Finding out I got accepted to the school back in May. The memory has been somewhat tarnished now by the many and myriad problems since, but it was certainly great at the time.

‡...Buuuuufalo with MMC. Who doesn't love a good road trip – especially one that involves art, shopping, Buffalo wings, gay bars, and winning money at Casino Niagara? Special props to the Twlight Zone Buffalo downtown core, devoid of all signs of human habitation and the Twilight Zone Canadian border crossing at 4AM.

‡...The race for who gets to fill the last 'Highlight' slot is too close to call. I'll leave it as a photo finish and let the judges decide. Pride or Fake Prom?

Photo of the Year 2007
This section is interactive for all ya’ll! Time to vote on the year's best photos! Votes, praise, donations, and solid gold gifts can be left in the 'Comments' section.

Photo of the Year 2007
Montmartre - April Fake Prom - August Sacré-Cœur - September

Photo of the Year 2007, Portrait Category
Pride - June

Beach - August

Photo of the Year 2007, Tokyo Tintin Category

Winner due to personal bias - It's my favourite.

What was I thinking?!? 2007

Hair explosions in the Musée d'Orsay are so 2003!

Caution, this combination of eyeglasses and watch may induce seizures.

Best dressed 2007

Fake Prom (August), winner by acclamation

New Years Resolutions
As always, my New Year's resolution is to be more fabulous. Last year I said I was aiming for a "glitter" rating of fabulousness in 2007, which I feel was achieved by summertime. I'd like to thank the Academy, the producers, all the people who worked on the project, and of course my many amazing friends — I owe it all to you.

Unfortunately, intercontinental migration has since caused a steep hit in the standings, and, despite picking up glamour points from Paris and Linda Evangelista, things are currently hovering around "glint" levels. Lots of hard work ahead to get things back on track in 2008, but definitely achievable.

Happy New Year!
Bonne Année!
¡Feliz Año Nuevo!
明けましておめでとうございます!
恭賀新禧!

Pope Benedict XVI suddenly reveals his true self

2007-12-23T01:31:00.000+01:00

I think his plan will be to make us all his slave-humans and put us to work in the xenon mines of Argus2000.

Entreprise et son environnement

2007-12-21T11:02:00.001+01:00

A funny story from the beginning of the semester that I forgot to relate because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself (and a further example of the farcical school system here):

I have a class called Entreprise et son environnement about commerce and the business world, so you can understand and then translate economicky texts. While quite often French university classes don't use a textbook, this one does. Fine, no problemo.

I didn't have a chance to go to the bookstore, but the next week of class, another student puts up her hand and says "I went to the bookstore, but they told me the textbook is out of print." To which the professor responds "Oh yes, I know. Very unfortunate. But you can't very well expect me to re-write my whole course just because the textbook is out of print. You'll just have to make do somehow."

...Isn't France ridiculous? C'est n'importe quoi ici !

It's a Lacroix! (ver. II)

2007-12-16T11:25:00.000+01:00

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I brave a French supermarket with the lovely Organa to find shelves and shelves of Evian bottles designed by Christian Lacroix.

It's fabulous! Good.

Yōkoso Japan

2007-12-06T21:09:00.000+01:00

Waaanh! What am I doing in stupid France with all their chocolate eclairs and cigarette smoke? Japan is amazing! I want to go back.

View Yōkoso Japan video.
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For the love of God!!!

2007-11-21T08:32:00.000+01:00

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Last night my digital camera broke too.

I feel like I'm cursed.

Ya know, it would be nice if just one thing could go right

2007-11-20T08:53:00.000+01:00

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Baah! My computer is dead. Totally dead.

Foux de Fa Fa

2007-11-16T09:09:00.000+01:00

Whenever things get too French for my liking, I now just say "Foux du fa fa fa" and everything turns out fine. Like yesterday when I foolishly decided to take the Métro to the pool during the transit strike. My stop is the first on the line, so I didn't really appreciate how bad it would get (but it got very bad). People were having shouting matches and fist-fights trying to get on the train basically the entire way there (foux de fa fa). On the way back I had to wait 50 minutes for a train to come (foux du fa fa fa), and when it did come, it was impossible to get on (foux de fa fa). So I ended up walking home for almost two hours (foux du fa fa fa).

The Unglamorous Life of an Exile

2007-11-14T10:01:00.001+01:00

Now I know what you're thinking; What could me more glamorous than cocktail receptions at UNESCO? Or pastries with gold leaf for breakfast? Or an intimate tête-à-tête with Linda Evangelista?

While those things do have all the Max Factor blingyness that I was expecting from Paris, let me start off by saying that the UNESCO headquarters building is such a hideous concrete monstrosity that it makes a Soviet polytechnic university in Albania look like a Loire château! Drop-tile ceilings with panels missing, water-damaged walls, blinding fluorescent lighting like a high-school cafeteria. Ugh! How can people working a building so hideous and banal make any kind of decisions about culture and heritage? At this rate we might as well house the United Nations in an airplane hanger too. UNESCO headquarters building, you are officially: Dead to Me!

Hideous modernist eyesores aside, my problems in Paris have been twofold. First, it's been much harder to make friends than I'd expected. French people generally tend to be reserved, so it's to be expected that it will take time. I was surprised, however, that the school does nothing for new students to meet each other. No frosh week or pub night, nothing. Doubly surprising since they make such a big deal about how 50% of the student body comes from other countries - yet everyone is left to fend for themselves. I'm starting to get to know people now, but for the most part its still just a 'say hi in the hallways' kind of friendship. It's hard being so far from the people you care about.

The second problem is the school itself. Although my school, ESIT, is regarded as one of the best translations schools in Europe (if not in the world), I have been rather shocked by the caliber of things so far. Teachers often cancel class or show up late. When professors do turn up, they often don't teach the subject, go off on tangents, contradict themselves, or each other. Staff are not able or not available to answer student questions, or don't know what's going on. And, most surprisingly, there is no schoolwork - just a final exam worth 100% of your mark! (WTF?) Also, in third year you have to write a thesis, which is something that I wanted to avoid at all costs and immediately discounted any school where this was a requirement (lucky for me ESIT failed to mention this small detail anywhere on their literature!).

I know now most of these things to be typical of French universities. Since it's practically free to go, they don't have any money to do anything properly, nor do they care. A rude awakening to be sure.

A further problem with the school is that I had to have a meeting with the programme director when I enrolled in my classes. She told me there was a concern that English wasn't good enough -this clearly didn't make sense to me, so over the course of several consultations and discussions the problem morphed into my Spanish not being good enough, then my French not being good enough, then back to Spanish, and now to both my Spanish and French not being good enough. (See what I mean about the school being disorganised?). Regardless of what the problem actually is, why wouldn't they have told me before I uprooted my whole life, quit my job and moved to a different continent?! So negligent and irresponsible!

The whole thing has left me very frustrated – and confused since my Spanish is clearly the best in the class. I have always been extremely sensitive about my French though. When I was younger, my French-Canadian mum put so much pressure on me to speak French. This made me intensely self-conscious of the fact that I didn't speak it properly, thus less likely to speak, resulting therefore in more pressure (and ultimately disappointment). –A downward spiral of franco-badness really. While I would say my French is neither the best nor the worst in class, this situation has really played into all my worst fears that my French, in fact, is not good enough after all. Très déprimant.

The results are in!

2007-11-12T10:19:00.000+01:00

All polling stations have now closed. Her Majesty's Royal Referendum on the Status of Hair reports the following results:

Short: 30%
Long: 55%
Spoiled Ballot: 15%

With the assent of Her Excellency, the Governor-General, my hair with heretoforth be grown long.

(I was hoping you would all spare me all the hassle that is long hair, but who am I to question the masses?)

Blogger Poll: Important Life Decisions Ahead

2007-11-05T18:13:00.000+01:00

I have to cut my hair. The time has come. Please help me decide whether I should cut it much shorter than it's been lately, or grow it out long again.

For your reference:
Short
Long

Points of consideration: My hair is matchstick straight. Consequently, trying to get it to do anything other than look like a mop of hay on my head is very difficult when long. The current French look is dirty and short.

Please leave your poll responses in the 'Comments' section of this post. Once all polling stations have reported, I will take the appropriate steps to carry out your wishes.

Harry Potter and le Moulin des Secrètes

2007-11-01T20:45:00.000+01:00

Recently, I decided to re-read all the Harry Potter books before going on to read the final book in the series. Since I was going to the effort, I thought I might as well re-read them in French, to get some extra language practice. I get to learn all kinds of words like 'broomstick' (manche à balai) and 'cauldron' (chaudron). –Bet you didn't know that Hogwarts was called 'Poulard' in French.

I just finished 'Arry Pottèr à l'école des sorciers (as Philosopher's Stone is known here), and came across this, which I'm sure you'll appreciate as much as I did.

Enjoy!

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

2007-10-28T00:39:00.001+02:00

Beautiful. But halfway through this movie I wondered why I wasn't enjoying it. Then I remembered, I'm not overly fond of Westerns. - Strangely, it had never occurred to me that this movie about Jesse James would indeed be a Western.

In fact, this is really two movies glommed into one; a movie about Jesse James and an extended dénouement about the life of Robert Ford after the assassination. The first two thirds of this longish movie consisted of a rambling drift through the end of James' life, filled with too many characters and no clear sense of motivation on anyone's part. I often lost track of the relationship between the many men, their feuds and their alliances. By the time things became (somewhat) clearer, I had already begun watching the hands on my watch tick by.

The cinematography was beyond gorgeous, so at least there was something to keep my interest during labyrinthine periods of plot exposition. I love shots of wheatfields in the wind and clouds wafting through the sky as much as the next guy, but it all starts to get a bit taxing when the rest of the movie is dragging.

Yet when the assassination did finally happen, instead of expecting the movie to wrap up, I became increasingly engrossed in the story of Robert Ford. I wanted to know more of his life and what became of him. It seemed that this last third was the movie the director really wanted to make, and the Jesse James story was appended to make the movie sell-able. When the movie did end, I thought it was almost a shame, because Ford was really the much more interesting character of the two.

This movie has Oscar-buzz written all over it. Brad Pitt nomination for sure -since he seems about due- but Casey Affleck is the real star of this show. (Or maybe best supporting actor Oscar to the wheatfields blowing in the wind).

I give the clouded, confusing Assassination of Jesse James two Colt pistols out of five, purely based on the cinematography, whereas The Coward Robert Ford gets five out of five for a complete re-engagement of my interest in this tale of a complicated life.

Strike while the iron is hip

2007-10-17T22:24:00.000+02:00

Today there is a transit strike and the city is half shut down. I'm profiting from my lack of classes and the poor weather to hunt down the full two-hour series premier of Beverley Hills 90210 on Youtube.

Oh the hair, the clothes, the music! 1990 really was the low point in world culture – all the shoulder pads of the 80s with none of the techno and raves of the 90s. (I do like Brenda's vampy cocktail dresses however).

Enjoy!

90210 Series Premier

(Follow the links on the right to get to the next segments).