T - 4 weeks

I think my relationship with Special K has reached a new level of intimacy. It's like Special K knows what I'm thinking. And also like it knows what's best for me. Like today, when I went to pour myself a bowl from a brand new box, and it only gave me a few little chocolate shavings because it knew I only had whole milk, and if it could have talked, it probably would have said, "Allison, you don't need extra chocolate shavings. I'm saving them for when you get some skim and afford the extra calories." It also tends to give me fewer chocolate shavings when I eat it for dinner. I know I should be ashamed of eating cereal for dinner, but come the fuck on. Who hasn't, at some point, and especially in the stressful stages of their academic career, forgone the home-cooked meal and instead grabbed the box of Frosted Mini Wheats off the top of the microwave?

My brother left this morning, and now my apartment can finally get back to a state of normalcy and cleanliness. I just don't understand how it's possible for me to take a shower without getting water on every surface in my bathroom (not to mention hair and fuzz, gross), but as soon as I have houseguests, especially boys, it's like a typhoon hit my apartment. Although, they did clean up before they left, so that was at least good. We also got out to Epernay a couple of days ago and toured a couple of champagne houses, which was awesome. I drank four glasses of champagne in one afternoon and flirted with the bartender and learned some stuff. Also, now I really want to buy a château and a vineyard and make wine. But, you know, 22 year-olds don't really do that sort of thing, so I guess I'll just stick with finding a real job for the moment and work my way up to oenological enthusiast.

Other than that, I've been spending my time procrastinating. Like, crazy procrastinating. Today, I did laundry and went food shopping and dropped something off at school, but that wasn't enough. So I counted all the coins sitting around my apartment. And washed them. Well, some of the really gross ones that started oxidizing and whatnot. For future reference, a mixture of vinegar, water and lemon juice works wonders on really old crusty coins. Also, I had almost 8 euros of spare change! Amazing!


I'm rich!

Lazy Sunday

Well, it's been a completely unproductive few days. My brother and his friend got in on Thursday night, and between going out and sleeping in and cleaning up after said going out and sleeping in, there hasn't been much time to actually work. I'm hoping to finish some reading today and maybe write a page or two, but I'd much rather go bum around Paris for the day with my bro. Anyways, talking about academia kind of makes me want to ralph, so I'm just going to skip over that (and considering that I'm pretty much done with school anyways, there's no reason to in the first place). Instead, I think I'll talk about how I finished an entire bottle of wine on the Pont des Arts and split a dart at the Highlander while Stephanie kicked my ass by literally 220 points.

Um, I guess that's the story. We met up with some friends on the bridge on Friday night for a picnic and public drinking, and at first I thought we had way too much food and wine, but I was soon proved wrong, as the group sprawled out and we proceeded to finish every last crumb of fresh baguette and every last drop of our 4 euro bottles of wine. And yes, I did drink an entire bottle of wine by myself. I have no idea how I did it without throwing up, but oh man, was I impressed with myself. It was probably the drunkest I've been since my first foray into alcohol consumption in Scotland in 2004, but without the falling down and spending the next day crouched down by the toilet waiting for that last tequila sunrise to wreak its revenge. I think there's something different about bridge drinking that takes away the possibility of getting sick or having a hangover. It's just such a nice experience, sitting on the bridge with literally hundreds of other people, enjoying some cheese and bread and meats, sipping (or gulping) your two buck chuck (or four buck chuck), enjoying the sunset as you watch the colors on the Ile de la Cité change from vibrant to subdued, trying to snap pictures that will look good on Facebook while trying to deal with aforementioned setting sun, handing out crackers to winos, waving and yelling at tour boats passing underneath, accidentally spilling wine on some of them, savoring the frequent cool breezes as you realize you're sitting at the center of the world in between the Louvre and the Académie française and nothing else matters.

And then you try to stand up.

And then you try to maneuver through the crowds so you can make it off the bridge and into the next bar where drinks are twice as expensive as that entire bottle of wine you just drank, and where people seem to make it their job to keep you from getting where you need to go. But then, of course, there are those once in a lifetime occurrences, like splitting a dart right next to the bullseye while Right Said Fred plays in the background, or thinking you lost your brother to some black back alley only to find him giving himself lung cancer outside in his drunken stupor, that make putting up with crowded bars and overpriced drinks and alcoholic tools all worth it.*

And that's when you realize you have two whole months to finish your mémoire, and who really needs to get it done rightthissecond anyways?



*Don't worry, we made him stop and throw the rest out. Doctors should have better reason than that, right?

Snakes. I hate snakes.

I guess it's fair to say that since I had such high hopes - nay, expectations - for the fourth Indiana Jones movie, I was bound to be disappointed. It was a great action movie, I'll give it that much, but... where was the dialogue? Where was the witty repartee during fight sequences? Where were the comically-placed punches and unexpected kicks? Ok, a couple of scenes made the cut. But... that plot? I won't give anything away, but seriously, George Lucas. That's the best you could come up with? I know you have to find something sort of supernatural, but really? Did you have to take it that far? All in all, it was an entertaining movie, but I guess I just wanted more from what will probably be Harrison Ford's last starring role as Indiana Jones.

Also, one last thing - ok, two: first, I heart Karen Allen. Second, did you have to make Shia Laboeuf or however you spell his name look so damn greasy? I mean, I know he's a sleazeball and all, but come on now. Ok, one more thing. Casting Cate Blanchett as the villain - GENIUS. But the next time you make an Indy movie, can you make the lead a little bit more... Indy-like? And the movie a little bit more... good? I know Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade good is asking a little much, but I'm just saying - next time you may want to - dare I say it? (and yes, I do, because it's exactly the kind of joke 1957 Indy would say) - crack the whip a little harder on your writers.

Spent

Well, that's over with.

The last few days I've been killing myself trying to get ready for my thesis presentation and finish up a few last minute academic things, like my last research paper EVER (which I got an A- on and am very happy about). I was the first to present my thesis, which was incredibly intimidating, but someone has to be first, and it might as well have been me. I actually think it was better this way, because I didn't have the opportunity to get freaked out by anyone else's presentation, constantly comparing it to mine, which I would inevitably deem inferior to everything ever written or presented in the history of NYU. But the truth is, I rocked it. I rocked it hard. I'm really happy with my grade, and everyone on the jury thought it was a great presentation - very interesting, well-organized, and delivered well. So basically, in conclusion, I rock. Hard.

Last week was crazy, apart from working myself up about this thesis thing, but because of the other work I had to do, the library strike, and various other annoyances that come with the luxury of living in Paris. However, we did finally do a reading with real actors of the play we're translating, which was definitely the highlight of my week. (Sorry, I still can't tell you what it is for confidentiality reasons, but if you ask me in person, I'll probably tell you.) It was a group of actors Gérald is working with on this show, and they were all extremely nice and forgiving of my inefficiency at reading lines in French. Additionally, a couple of them were quite attractive, hence the highlight of my week. One was named Aymeric, who was probably the most adorable-attractive person I've ever met. You can tell he was an irresistibly cute kid, and lucky for everyone he kept those pouty lips. Then there was Julien, who was actually pretty American-looking, which is funny because he started paradoxical conversation about how the domination of American English in the world is actually going to lead to its demise. Alright, so maybe not the brightest tool in the shed, but great eye candy and a deep, sexy French voice, and I've always wanted to date a Julien, so what more can you ask for?

My brother and a friend are coming in on Thursday for their first stop on their Grand Tour, which is very exciting! My apartment currently looks like a tornado hit it, as per usual, but I'm working on it. Slowly but surely it will once again resemble a habitable space.

Ok, so I just hit a wall and can't write any more. I'm so burnt out from all this academia and worrying about all this academia... I should get some rest. Or at least relax just a bit with some trashy TV.

P.S. Who's excited for the new Indiana Jones? I think I actually want to see it more than Sex and the City. Sacrilege, I know.

We are the world

I'll write a real post tomorrow when I'm done in front of the firing squad, but for now, for those of you who speak french, enjoy this:

Europe as seen by the French:

For those of you who don't speak French, here's the translation (they're all pretty much pejorative):
Maison = Home
Faineants = Lazy
Poilues = Hairy
Lents = Slow
Voleurs = Thieves
Terroristes = take a guess
Fachos = Facists
Teubé = Stupid
Toxicos = Drug Addicts
Alcoolos = Alcoholics
Roux = Redheads
On s'en fout = We don't care about them
Bonasses = Softies
Putes = Whores
Mafia and Vodka = self-explanatory
Accordeonistes = Accordion players
PD = homos

Offensive, and I'm not really sure to whom, but funny.

Also, this one, France from the Parisian perspective:


Translation:
Maison = Home
Pauvres = Poor people
Alcooliques = Alcoholics
Nid de connards = Nest of assholes/bastards/jackasses
Putes & Voleurs = Whores and thieves
Dépressifs = Depressed people
On s'en branle = We don't give a fuck

And lastly, to be fair, the world seen by Americans (my favorite is the last one; note the conspicuous absence of Africa):

Paris hates me.

Paris hates me.

Let me take you through the succession of events that brought me to that conclusion:

This morning, I was on top of my shit. I had a plan. I woke up early, got ready, got my stuff together, and headed to the library at the actual time I had intended. I got there an hour early and plopped myself down near the front of the line, feeling content that I would only have to wait at most an additional fifteen minutes past the normal opening time of the library to get in. And then, at about 11:40, a couple of women who work at the library came out with stacks of fliers and started distributing them to people waiting in line. The top of it read (in French) "Strike on May 15 to defend civil service", followed by an almost page-long explanation of why some of the staff would be on strike today. A little later, a man came out and said they still hadn't decided whether there would actually be a strike or not, but the decision would be made in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Lo and behold, at about ten after twelve, a man inside the library came up to the glass door and held up a piece of paper with the word GREVE written on it, underlined. He did it with the same gravitas and regretful expression on his face as a little journalist gopher would when coming out of a courthouse to announce the verdict of a high-profile murder case to the anxious masses outside. Also, he made that throat-slitting gesture, and someone behind him kept making X's with his arms. It kind of reminded me of the universal disappointment after O.J. was declared a free man.

You have got to be kidding me. On a personal level, it pisses me off because I was counting on this day to finish up some research for my thesis presentation on Monday, and I really do need the WHOLE weekend to work on it. I don't have time this weekend to waste standing in line to get into the library just so I can read books I can't take home. On a less selfish level, would it have killed them to make this decision ahead of time? And maybe put it on their website? And then maybe they should add "whenever we don't feel like working" to their list of days they're closed.

Also, who thinks libraries shouldn't be allowed to strike, especially during finals? Because, really, that's just cruel, not to mention an exacerbation to the problem of poorly-educated, failing students. Seriously, France, step up your game! I'm all for liberal politics and people being rightfully compensated, but if you're going to do shit like this, the least you could do is give students a break for being unprepared in class. How can they be prepared if you close the library on them?

So, after everyone dispersed, I headed to the bus stop and thought I'd go to my café, do a little reading with a crème, then go home to finish up some other work. But the bus never came. And it was raining, in 80% humidity. And I didn't have my umbrella because I thought I would be spending the day INSIDE THE LIBRARY. So I walked to my metro, resigned to eating lunch at home and finally getting through my last academic paper ever (which I have still yet to finish). So I, of course, had to blog about it first, as it's impossible for me to get any work done without a considerable amount of procrastination beforehand.

Voilà, c'est tout. Back to the grindstone. Ugh.


EDIT, 12:20 am : Who SHUTS DOWN THEIR DATABASE AT NIGHT when someone needs it to get biographical information they need to finish their paper?! Fuck you, BPI. Fuck you and the sadistic bastards managing you. You all suck. Next time I go in there, I'm dog-earing all the books I use. Take that, civil servants!

Making a list

Things that have pissed me off in the last week:
-Unbearably hot weather sometimes mixed with a healthy dose of humidity.
-My ability to just miss every form of public transportation and have to walk home in aforementioned shit weather.
-The cadence of our translation professor's voice that basically makes it sound like he's always saying "God, you idiots, why don't you ever get it right?"
-This same professor's self-important habit of canceling class with a minute's (or no) notice, or switching the final to next week without telling anyone.
-Allowing myself to pay 4.40 for a diet Pepsi in a café by the Luxembourg gardens.
-People throwing a hissy fit and nearly reenacting the storming of the Bastille in one of my classes at Paris III because half of them failed the midterm.
-The fact that half of them failed the midterm and then bitched about it, after not showing up to class or doing the work.
-The fact that the professor could fail half the class and did, the fact that even if you show up to class and write four pages like she asks, you don't automatically pass.
-My neighbors deciding to feng shui their apartment at 2:30 in the morning when I have class at 10.
-Cutting into a delicious looking strawberry to find a family of maggots living large on the inside. (Large in every sense.)
-The fact that now I can no longer bring myself to buy strawberries even though they are one of my top five favorite fruits.

Things that have made me happy/things to be happy about:
-Talking to my mom and grandma on Sunday.
-Delicious fruit tart today at lunch.
-Getting the highest grade in the class on that midterm half the class failed.
-My neighbor's apartment being too hot for him to walk around clothed.
-This is quite possibly my last week of academia ever.
-My brother and his friend are coming to visit in a week!!
-I finally figured out how to use my convection oven and have been making cookies nonstop (yes, they are break 'n' bake cookies, since I don't have ANY baking equipment in my kitchen).
-Coming home to friends and family (and In-n-Out) in a matter of weeks.

Things I'm currently freaking out about:
-Thesis defense on Monday at 10 and I haven't started working on it.
-I still don't know what I'm going to do with my life, blah blah blah.
-Re-staining a patch of my kitchen counter I inadvertently sanded down with the rough side of a sponge. (Will coffee work? That's my current plan of attack.)

Things are much more comprehensible in list form, don't you think?

And we're off!

As I was leaving the movie theater at 9:30 tonight after seeing Iron Man, I thought two things: 1)man, I can't believe it's only dusk, and 2)damn, John Favreau, way to make an action flick. And a kid-friendly action flick, at that. I mean, aside from the explosions and guns that are pretty much (and sadly) obligatory in any movie that wants to make money, there wasn't much I'd need to keep from a kid over a reasonable age. I know Sam Raimi is like a comic-book-turned-movie god, but he could seriously take a few pointers from John Favreau. Like, less is more. Or, write a good script. Or, cast real actors (four Oscar nominees, anyone?) I mean, really, man. Take Jeff Bridges, for example. I could watch Jeff Bridges just sit in a chair for two hours. I bet he could act the shit out of that. Anyways, needless to say, I liked the movie. And if Iron Man is any indication of the kind of stuff we can expect this summer (which I hope to God it is), we are in for one hell of a blockbuster season. Indy, Batman, Sex and the City (which I'm becoming less and less enamored with), the Hulk (I hear Tony Stark makes an appearance, which is awesome)... so many movies! So much potential for generic, over-acted crap. Let's hope the other directors can pull it off as seemingly effortlessly as John Favreau.

Just one last thing, and it's half complaint, half John Favreau exaltation. Could you have at least played the song once?! Just once, in the whole movie, even for the credits. You started, but we didn't even get to hear the whole thing. However, I must commend you on not playing it the first time we see Tony Stark in the suit, stomping his way through the - ok, I won't spoil it. It would have been an awesome shot, but everyone would have expected it.

So, in conclusion, please go see the movie and support people who actually know what they're doing.

Tomorrow I'm off to Giverny with Smith to try to get some work done. Maybe the change from the sterile white walls that surround me in my apartment will somehow make me more productive. Because, really, if I don't finish this paper soon, I'm going to seriously go batshit crazy.

Also, my mom just said "love you muchly." I love my mom.

In lieu of actually being productive

I don't particularly feel like toiling into the wee hours of the morning working on shit I don't really care about, so here are some things I find chuckle-worthy instead! I particularly love this one, which I found going through random blogs. I love the face at the end - it's like he's traumatized, but he doesn't know why.

Also, this: (my favorite part is the guy rolling on the grass)

See more funny videos at CollegeHumor

And this one, which I'm too uneducated to be able to embed.

I think this summer I might find some crash course in computer science. Or the Internet. Do they have those?

Procrastination? What's that?

There's something about the way Paris smells in nice weather that just makes me happy. It's some mixture of freshly baked bread, various flowers, goodness, puppies, and sex (masking the usual urine/dog poop/diesel/alcohol concoction, which also includes bread and sex, but sex somehow becomes more pungent in the summer. I think I'll stop this hyperbole now.). Unfortunately, nice weather does not make me want to do work, even though when I got back from Scotland, I was going to get up early and go to the library and write that paper and clean my apartment and make real food because it's nice outside and that puts me in a good mood. End result: I'm supposed to turn in a paper tomorrow (no official due date given), but I'll be lucky if I get it in by the end of the week because a)it's the last two weeks of classes and every professor is giving us assignments, b)it's summer in Paris, c)I have memoir shit to do, and d)my life is currently in large part consumed by translating Tom Stoppard, which is fun, but it's been about 7 months now, and I'm kind of ready for it to be done. Although there's supposed to be a reading of it with real actors in a couple of weeks, and I'm really looking forward to that. We also got to work outside today for a few hours, sitting on picnic chairs on the grassy knoll on avenue Foch, which was a really welcome change from the sometimes dungeon-like obscurity of the director's ground floor apartment. And I got a free lunch, which was, as always, awesome. I could be a billionaire, and I'd still be pleased when someone offered to buy lunch - cheap or just cheerfully grateful?

I'm coming back to the States in less than two months, and after I finish my thesis, I'm going to start some serious job searching, but, um, I kind of don't want to work. Especially not for the corporate monster (ugh, I can't believe I just said that. ok, I can.) or some company where I'll be photocopying and answering phones all day. After watching a bunch of Jake and Amir videos, I'm pretty sure collegehumor.com would be the most amazing place to work, but I'm also pretty sure they're like a secret society and I'd have to drink raw eggs and brand myself and possibly perform sexual acts to secure a desk. So, please give me some ideas and I'll think about them, and maybe the person that comes up with the best one will win a free meal and get to experience that aforementioned cheerful gratefulness/cheapness.* And if you can actually land me some super-cool, highly-coveted job, I might just throw in dessert and a movie.** Something extra if it pays really really well.***


*Dinner at the following places: McDonald's, Wendy's, Burger King, or any other respectable establishment with a dollar menu. In-n-out not excluded because it is awesome.

**Dessert must be some form of chocolate and movie can NOT star Dane Cook, Kevin James, Jessica Simpson, Eddie Murphy, or Carrot Top (so, no midnight showings of Chairman of the Board, ok?), OR be about a group of high school students out to lose their virginity while camping in some creepy cabin in the secluded forests of one of the Carolinas.

***TBD. T really BD if we're talking six figures.

Now back to that paper on caricatures. Funny, it feels like I've written this paper five times already, and I still don't think I know anything about the subject. Ah, academia.

Potential Oscar Material

SCENE:

EXT. POMPIDOU CENTER, APPROXIMATELY 11:40 A.M.

A hoard of students waits impatiently in line to get into the library. Above, perched atop one of the many huge, blue PVC pipes, stands a row of pigeons, standing at attention. In swoops PIGEON PATTON, who lands in front of them, on the pipe just above them, and starts pacing.

PIGEON PATTON: Alright birds, this is the moment you've been waiting for, preparing for. I know some of you may be nervous, and while that may be normal, I will not have it in my squad! You're pigeons, God damn it! Be proud of your disease infested heritage! Stand up straight, puff out your chest like you just saw the hottest piece of pigeon ass in all of Paris! Good. Now, let's get to it. The plan is a sneak attack. Polly, what's the target's status?

POLLY: They haven't spotted our positions yet.

PIGEON PATTON: Well, they will get some education in about 10 seconds when they get a dose of our artillery fire. Now, I'm going to need my best birds today, and every one of you needs to be on your tip-talons. There can be no mistakes! If anyone fucks this up, I'll club your foot, do you hear me?! You'll be left to roam derelict garden houses and chain boulangerie garbage. You all ate your breakfast this morning, I take it?

PIGEONS: Sir, yes, sir!

PIGEON PATTON: Good, that's what I like to hear. Sam, what did you stuff down that beak of yours?

SAM: Some moldy blueberries, sir.

PIGEON PATTON: Excellent. Fred?

FRED: I found an open diaper, sir.

PIGEON PATTON: Fine morning fare, indeed.

A smaller pigeon with "special" coloring and some mohawk feathers starts jumping up and down, flapping a wing to get PIGEON PATTON's attention.

PIGEON PATTON: What IS it, Pip?

PIP (stuttering): Sir, I-I-I-I-I I'd like to help today. I found some month-old chevre earlier and I think I could be of service.

PIGEON PATTON: Well, show me what you've got.

PIP brings his wings in close and, after some effort, squeaks out a fart. PIGEON PATTON sniffs out the stench. The other pigeons start hacking.

PIGEON PATTON: You magnificent bastard! That is absolutely putrid, Pip. You can be my sharpshooter today. Now, birds, get in position! Joe, tell me what you see.

JOE (looking down): Well, there's a group of happy looking kids talking and smoking, and -- THERE! THERE! There's a girl in a black jacket with a white shirt and freshly-washed hair!

PIGEON PATTON: Excellent! A week's croissant crumbs ration bonus for the pigeon who gets the jacket. And two weeks if it lands in the hair.

JOE: What about the girl with white pants?

POLLY: Idiot, do you have any idea how hard it is to hit pants from this angle? It's not even worth trying.

PIGEON PATTON: Polly's right, Joe. Better keep to their heads and shoulders. We're looking for mass casualties here. Ready, pigeons?

PIGEONS: Yes, sir!

PIGEON PATTON: Take your positions!

The pigeons turn around and stick their asses out over the pipe.

PIGEON PATTON: Ready. Aim.

They all carefully look behind them. PIP is very intent on hitting his target.

PIGEON PATTON: FIRE!!

Simultaneously, they all let their ammunition drop onto the unsuspecting crowd. SPLAT.
Pause.

STUDENTS: Is it on me, is it on me? Oh, good. Thank God. Christ, what's that smell?

They look around and stop at ALLISON.

ALLISON: Fuck. Me.

PIP: I got her, I got her! The hair AND the jacket!! Suck it, Polly!

END SCENE.