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.lark.
26 November 2009 @ 12:14 am
there's a lot of stuff weighing down on me these days.
i would say it's hard to get out of bed in the morning, but that's not actually true, despite the nice imagery. i'm ok getting up, i'm ok getting out, i'm even ok through most of a work day despite the ridiculous self-important, overpaid wind-bags i constantly find myself fawning towards. it sneaks up on my in my ipod sometimes, or watching a couple holding hands at a bus stop, or a mom sneaking bites from an ice cream cone while the kid ties her shoe or whatever.
my mum is here for Thanksgiving and god knows she's good at putting things in perspective. i'm glad to be with her. i'm glad Elmo is coming in tomorrow. i'm glad Evan lives in Boston. i'm glad for a lot of things that my mum is good at bringing up.
thanks and stuff.
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Current Mood: reflecting
Current Music: Kalima Kadara by Laïs
 
 
.lark.
15 September 2009 @ 11:54 pm
me: are you planning to go?
 Jonathan: what time again?
2:29 PM me: 8
 Jonathan: if you are.
  maybe even if you're not.
2:30 PM me: ok, give me a couple hours to see how i feel
 Jonathan: k
 me: you might have to poke me to keep me awake
 Jonathan: where are the bike bells?
2:32 PM DELIVER THE BELLS
  and no one gets hurt
  ok, time's up.
2:33 PM Say goodbye to your precious metal bookend business-card-holder guy...
  ok, I'm bluffing.
2:34 PM you've got a will of iron, young lady.
  You'll go far.
  Seriously, where are the bells?
  The silent treatment, eh?
  WELL, we'll see who's silent when I've got six bike bells at my disposal.
2:35 PM not me. that's the answer.
  So where are the bike bells?
2:36 PM You play a dangerous game...
  But I am relentless.
  Unflagging.
  Unyielding.
  Un...
  relenting.
  ...
  ok, I give up.
  WHERE ARE THE BELLS???
  TWO can play at this game!
2:37 PM (silence)
  (silence)
  (silence)
  Maybe I'll go have a snack.



2:40 PM me: sorry! got distracted!
  bells are in the hallway
2:41 PM in a pink bag
  from garment district

7 minutes
2:49 PM me: i just laughed and tea went up my nose

25 minutes
3:15 PM me: now everything smells like tea
 
 
.lark.
played around with it, and this is my favorite chocolate chip recipe.

3/4 cup butter (salted), softened
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
equivalent of 1 egg but with egg replacer
vanilla
1 3/4 c flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
salt
chocolate chunks

1. oven to 375
2.  mix butter, sugars and vanilla until it's super fluffy.  do not allow other people to eat at this stage because you'll come out uneven at the end
3.  add egg stuff.  egg replacer makes the dough eatable without the threat of salmonilla
4.  mix flour, soda and salt in the measuring cup.  add by little bits to the dough, beating well
5.  stir in chocolate
6.  spread into a greased 13X9 pan.  cook for 19 minutes.  once the outside is browning, it's done.  the middle is always gooeyer than the outside, but everybody likes goo anyway.
7.  cool in pan on wire rack, then cut into bars.
 
 
.lark.
13 June 2009 @ 05:58 pm
there are things that make me happy.  i love my new place up in Cambridge.  it's full of people and music and home-cooked dinners and the gym is right around the corner.  i got a job that 65 people were interviewed for.  i might not have free time for the next two years, but i'll learn a lot and it'll be good on the resume and maybe it'll give me a nudge in the direction of My Life.
but that's not what i'm really happy about right now.
maybe it's because i've lived alone for the last two years.  maybe because i lived alone in a country full of things i didn't understand half-way across the world from the people who might help me figure it out.  there's an undeniable thrill when you wake up in the morning and wonder how to say "coffee" in whatever weird language your hostel is speaking, but there's also an undercurrent of lonely that wanderlust doesn't cure.  i think i got so used to that undercurrent that i didn't realize it was still there.  then i got back and i wake up and i know how to say coffee and i get a kiss good morning and all of the stress of trying to do everything by myself is GONE.
for those of you who know me in person, i suppose this won't surprise you much to learn that this has manifested in the reimergence of The Puppy, my sometimes alter-ego.
i have a roommate named Nat who is the PERFECT candidate for my daily run-barking-at-the-door-when-he-comes-in.  he's better at it than J, who is not quite big enough to jump on in full puppy mode.
i'm getting a little more confident on my bicycle, so for the last week i've been zipping all over Boston, getting a) groceries b) things from my old apartment c) freckles and d) hopelessly lost.  today i came home via the hill by Fresh Pond Ave, and for the first time i let myself come all the way down without braking.  "QUACK!" i yelled by way of warning as i went careening past a bunch of geese at approximately 9 billion miles per hour.  they looked back at me, nonplussed.
whatever.
i'm going to try to let the happy and weird bits of me retake a more prominant place in my life even when i am back in heels and blouses again.
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Current Location: Cambridge, MA
Current Mood: summer
Current Music: saxophone solo!
 
 
.lark.
26 April 2009 @ 11:33 am
i am not a dancer.
when i was little, i went to a couple ballet classes.  i liked the words in French.  i didn't like anything else.
i am an athletic person.  i run far and fairly fast.  i am physically stronger than most women.  i am quite flexible.  i am a decent fencer.  i am unbelievably stubborn when it comes to exercise.  i think i could have been a dancer had my 5 year-old self found tutus an eighth as interesting as she found karate gis.  but alas, i was an only daughter in a family of boys, and my make-believe games involved death matches with Shao Khan on the trampoline rather than grand recitals in on the green carpet in the living room.
J is a dancer.
he is a vastly superior musician whose brain automatically picks up and uses the nuances and patterns in the tunes that just sound like down-beats to me.  he's the athlete i'll never be because it all comes naturally to him, whereas i sweat and ache and throw up in trash-cans for every 15 seconds i shave off my mile.  he's not a dancer in the classically-trained, hours-and-hours-at-rehearsal sense.  he just is a dancer.  and he has no fear whatsoever in trying to pick up anything new.
if i can't get his inborn athleticism to rub off on me, i can at least try to tap into his confidence.  so what the fuck.  i'm learning to contra dance.  maybe someday i'll learn to swing.  because he's hot shit and he makes it fun.  and when i wind up in the arms of some sketchy grad-student or smelly old man who sneers a little at my general incompetance or asks me for my number rather than teaches me what to do during a "grand 8 ring" or whatever...
well, i always know in the back of my mind i could kill them with a sword.
probably with my eyes closed.
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Current Location: New England Folk Festival
Current Mood: freckly
Current Music: "Swinging on a Gate", Tony Elman
 
 
.lark.
19 April 2009 @ 10:30 pm
today i am less whiny.  i picked up with the Boston hash house harriers, which is ok.  it's a lot ... frattier(?) than what i'm used to, but whatever.  it doesn't have to be my social circle.  just another thing to do.

lots of interviews and stuff.  hopefully one will pan out.

Miya and i are singing again.  we're going to make something pretty, we hope.

you know what else is great about the USA?  cottage cheese.  man, i forgot how much i should have been missing it in Europe.

also i'm really in love right now.  it makes everything better.

here is a stupid meme where you use song titles for one band to answer questions about you.  i'd hide it under a cut, but i can't make that work.  oh well.   thought i'd use Flogging Molly.  thanks for the shout-out Allison!

1. Males or females?: Between a Man and a Woman

2. Describe how others see you: Punch Drunk Grinning Soul

3. How do you feel about yourself: The Wrong Company (my favorite answer)

4. Describe your ex: Another Bag of Bricks (Selfish Man would be a great answer, but it's not really true)

5. Describe your current love situation: Tomorrow Comes a Day Too Soon

6. Describe your current location: Man with no Country

7. And where you want to be: Far Away, Boys

8. Your best friends are all: Screaming at the Wailing Wall

9. Your favorite color is: Black (Friday Rule)

10. After all, you know that: Every Dog Has its Day

11. What’s the weather like: The Worst Day Since Yesterday (fuck you, New England)

12. If your life was a television show what would it be called? Drunken Lullabies

13. What is life to you: The Devil's Dance Floor

14. What is the best advice you have to give: Float ("Drink/Dream/Live/Be thankful, it's all you can do... but don't sink the boat")

15. If you could change your name what would you change it to: Delilah


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Current Location: Brighton, MA
Current Mood: floating
Current Music: Long Time Traveller
 
 
.lark.
22 March 2009 @ 10:41 pm
i did a cartwheel for the first time.  it was kind of awesome.  my mother was so stoked to see me she didn't really even notice, but i did.  because the floor of Charles de Gaulle is covered with little bits of lint and some of them got stuck in my ring where it broke two weeks ago.

we left our hotel in the drizzle.  we walked down the hill to the water in the rain.  we sailed up the Bospherous in a downpour.  we hiked up the hill to the fortress in the sleet.  and then we stood in a blizzard and i looked out at the Black Sea for the first time.  a tanker that couldn't have been more than 500 meters offshore materialized out of the gray and slipped silently past, like a shark on its way to the Istanbul harbors.  she tried to talk me into coming back under the umbrella, but my eyelashes were full of snowflakes and i was laughing too hard to do anything except root in my pockets for a tissue.

we went down to the train-station at night.  we were late because we'd been walking Istrikral, so we had to sit in the back.  the Spanish were loudly loudly looking for seats for their children so that they could see.  the Americans were loudly squeaking their plastic chairs back and forth as they tried to angle.  the Japanese were taking photographs with cameras that loudly announced themselves with fake ka-chik noises.  the music started and it went on and the man sang for an hour and the drummer never faltered between his/her(?) 38 different rhythms and there was nothing and people started to stir more loudly.  and then they came out and adjusted their hats and bowed for twenty minutes, and my mother and i didn't dare look at each other because the temptation to be loud would be too strong and we understood just how much they wanted us to be quiet before they started to whirl.  but the dirvishes started to whirl and then we were all quiet.

oh, and did i mention that Ireland won 6 Nations?  ERIN GO BRAGH!
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Current Location: home (see footnote 1)
Current Mood: stretched
Current Music: Two-string lap violin
 
 
.lark.
25 February 2009 @ 06:42 pm
note to self : in periods of obsessive mental states hilighted by a tendancy towards nightmares, good bedtime reading DOES NOT INCLUDE Watchmen.  i don't care how long you've put off reading it, Walker.  you know better.
 
 
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: vigilante
Current Music: "Like Eating Glass" by Bloc Party
 
 
.lark.
16 February 2009 @ 10:50 pm

The BBC thinks most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here. I'm kind of floored by that.  I think I had to read at least 6 of these suckers in high school.

Instructions:
1) Look at the list and put an 'X' after those you have read.
2) Add a '+' to the ones you LOVE.
3) Star (*) those you plan on reading.
4) Tally your total at the bottom.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen X
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien X+
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte *
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling X
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee X+
6 The Bible X
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell X
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (tried, but didn’t get into it)
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens X
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott X
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy X
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller *
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (ok ok, not all of it)

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien X+
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger X
19 The Time Traveller’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 - Douglas Adams X
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh X+
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky X
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll X+
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame X
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis X
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis X
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini X (worst book ever)
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne X
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 X (I really loved it until I talked with somebody who violently hated it… and made really valid points)
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery X (ugh)
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood X
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding X+
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel *
52 Dune - Frank Herbert X+
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons (… this was a book?)
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-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez * (I love everything else I've read, so time to get on it)
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck X
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov X
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas X (in FRENCH bitches!)
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac  X (10 pages left…)
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding X
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville X
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens X
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker X
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett X+ (I have reasons)
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson X
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
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 X
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker X
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro (I’ve read some of his other ones…)
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White X
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Alborn
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle X
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad X
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery X+
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams X+
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas X+ (French)
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare X+ (again with the repetition, BBC)
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl X
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo X

51!  And two of those were in French!  Take that, BBC!  Oh and I didn't count the ones I'm planning on because things like "Jane Eyre" have been on that list for the last 4 years.  So if you respond... don't cound the *s.

 
 
Current Location: under a blanket
Current Mood: learned
Current Music: "Eating a Book" by He Is Legend
 
 
.lark.
I'm no political specialist, but here's the nuts and bolts as far as I can tell.
First of all, you've got to know that striking is more than just a common inconvenience in France.  I joke about it being the national sport, but the truth is that it's an accepted (and expected) political action.  Where we might write our congressman or get together and write catchy things on posterboard some Saturday afternoon in front of City Hall, the French, and particularly the working class French, stop working.  Museums will be shut and gazillions of tourist dollars don't make it to the government.  Air traffic controllers don't come to work and somebody has to pay back Continental Airlines for all those cancelled flights.  Most commonly, the metro doesn't work and the city is completely immobilized.
Ok, now on the political side, France is way more leftist a country than is the US.  The two parties in the last election were the UMP- Popular Movement Union (a pretty centrist party) and the Socialists.  In American politics "socialist" is practically a bad word.  Obama talks about expanding health-care, and "You commie!" yell the conservatives, "this kind of socialism is what will destroy our great nation!"
So Sarkozy (UMP) won.  He's an interesting duck because parts of his platform and policies are pretty... well, American.  He wanted to reduce benefits to the unemployed and pensions to the retired.  He wanted to increase the work-week.  Basically, he wanted to de-socialize the economic and labor systems in France.  (This, by the way, is a huge overstatement, and a lot of people would disagree with me.)  He made the point, and it's kind of hard to disagree with, that if France wanted to really compete economically with other big first-world nations, they were going to have to operate under a more competitive system.  The French voters apparently agreed with him, and the guy was elected.  He cut benefits and pensions and upped the work-week.
So then the financial crisis hit, and Sarkozy, much like Bush and unlike Brown (UK) opted to offer aid to the banks and big businesses rather than the consumer and worker.  For the left, this was completely unacceptable.  "The French government is SUPPOSED to take care of the worker; that's what it has always done," was the prevailing sentiment.  If there were an election tomorrow, I'm pretty sure the socialists would win like 80% of the votes.

So we all knew there would be big strikes.  When last week rolled around, everyone already had their Thursday plans set.  IF you still had to go to work (and many offices were closed), you knew you'd have to leave an hour early so that you could walk.  The mood wasn't worried or even irritated, it was just about-that-time-y'know?
I went up to Bastille early in the morning to see people setting up for the gigantic manifestation.  What I didn't really realize until the day itself was that the protest and the strikes weren't really focused on Sarkozy's economic stimulus package so much as they were on what people thought were his un-French policies in general.  For example, over the course of the day, I saw way more posters demanding education for children without papers than posters decrying bailing out of fat cats.
But you wanted to know about the vibe, I think.  This was different from most big, public rallies because so many different groups were represented.  Student groups, all manner of workers unions, political parties, and a couple of people and floats from the Chinese New Year parade all showed up to march together.  People brought their kids and dogs and sandwitches and spent the whole day.  Like I said, this is a perfectly normal, acceptable way to make a political statement here.  Once it got dark, most people split (including me) because as is often the case, people get kinda crazy.  I heard about cars getting flipped over and trashcans being set on fire and some people getting arrested.  That's the ugly side of the public manifestations.  It's easy for comraderie to turn into mob mentality, and that happens a lot more than it used to.  I actually kind of regret not sticking around to see it, but I had fencing practice.
Anyway, then Paris went to sleep and everybody got up Friday and went back to work.  Most of us had caught a cold from being outside so long the day before without a hat.
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Current Location: Place de la Bastille
Current Mood: political
Current Music: La Marseillaise
 
 
.lark.
28 January 2009 @ 10:11 pm
i have accused myself of only posting when i'm down.  i use this thing as a means of bitching and little else.  well, mark your calendars because this is a happy post, thanks.

my mom's disease is better.  like, way better.  like, they won't have to even begin treatments this year better.  the doctors say, "these things wax and wane and this is a... well, a very serious wane."  so i'm not going to shave my head anytime soon!
my whole family is stoked.  when she comes to Paris, there won't be anything scary looming over us.  i bought her a pretty mother's day present today at the market and i'm already planning the chocolate-laden feast we'll enjoy when she gets here.
which is when lent will be over.
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Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: relieved
Current Music: "Home" by Zero 7
 
 
.lark.
27 January 2009 @ 11:01 pm
I think that only pleasant reviews from my latest and UTTER duress would really make me post right now.  How lame of a blogger am I?  I've experienced some seriously extreme emotions in the last couple weeks, and some of those were highs.  And yet, it's always anxiety that leads me to the internet to type out an equivalent of bashing my head into a wall.
I may be currently self-employed, but there are over 15 balls I'm trying to keep in the air right now.  Some of them are as silly and little as organizing hasher events and some of them are as intense as trying to figure out timelines for chemo treatments.  Meanwhile, I'm trying to find a job and a home in a new city in the WORST financial setting our country has experienced in the better part of a century.  Nothing like anxiety combined with a gym membership expiring to cause a night-terror suffering insomniac some really shitty times.  I have horrible nightmares these days and sleep is an archenemy.
It's just one of those months, I think.  I am really trying to keep things I'm working on functional and my own head above water, but it's like I have no safety line at all.  In almost every sphere of my life, the people I was kind of depending on have their own "I'm having a really bad week" and have left, leaving me with awkward phone calls and really lonely glasses of gin at 11 o'clock when I get home from fencing.
When I grow up, I'm going to be a cave-man.
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Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: exhausted
Current Music: "Who Needs Sleep" by the Barenaked Ladies
 
 
.lark.
19 January 2009 @ 11:32 pm

Ok, here's my 2008 booklist and related thoughts.  Comments and suggestions for 2009 appreciated.

1.  The Other Boleyn Girl – Philippa Gregory 672

   Anne and Mary Boleyn.  I'm on a Henry VIII kick, so I found it really interesting.  It's not high literature, but it's true to history (as best we can tell) and it's fun.  The movie sucked.

2.  Suite Francaise – Irene Nemirovsky 448

   I think probably everybody else read this when it was huge last year.  It's a novel about people living and falling in love on both sides of WWII.  Nemirovsky died in Aushwitz before she could finish it.  It was really good for my French.  I also learned how to say "land-mine."  ("Mine antipersonnel.")

3.  The Unbearable Lightness of Being – Milan Kundera 352

    I didn't only read historical fiction, I swear.  Young Bohemians living in a communist Czecholslovakia.  It's beautifully written and I really bought all of the characters even though for the most part I didn't like them.

4.  Terrorist – John Updike 320 (negative stars)

    How is this guy so successful?  This book is crap.  Young utterly stereotypical Muslim kid who has an Irish mother (so that updike could describe her hair and temper every 3 pages) is seduced into a terrorist cell.  Also included are stereotypical, completely unbelievable Black high-school aged reluctant prostitutes and stereotypical, completely unbelievable sympathetic and apparently telepathic English teachers.

5.  A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius – Dave Eggers 496

    Nothing actually happens in this book.  You read it for the style.  Which is fun.  And clever.

6.  Metamorphosis – Franz Kafka 94

    Having never read this, I figured I should so as to not embarrass myself in the company of academics at high school reunions.

7.  The Boleyn Legacy – Philippa Gregory 544

    Not nearly as interesting (or good) as Other Boleyn Girl, but at least you get some insight into the wife nobody ever talks about (Anne of Cleves.)

8.  Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami 298

    Sex and death and mental problems for Japanese students.  I never understood the Beatles reference, but the characters are really well developed.

9.   Red Sky at Morning – Richard Bradford 356  ***

    BEST BOOK OF 2008!  A sort of Huck Finn meets American homefront, it's the story of a southern kid growing up out west while his dad is away fighting in WWII.

10.  Middlesex – Jeffrey Eugenides 544

    Ok, this book is about incest and transsexuals, but it's also an interesting look at a Greek-American family's history over a couple of generations and it really gets at what it means to be a sexual outsider.  That said, the resolution was crap and the ending was a cop-out.

11.  The Six Wives of Henry VIII – Antonia Fraser 496

    I told you I was on a Henry VIII kick.  (In 2008 I also watched both seasons of The Tudors.)  This one is a history book, but Fraser does a good job making history juicy.

12.  Rhinoceros – Eugene Ionosco 160

    I never actually read this in French lit, but as I am a fan of the absurdist movement, I thought it was great.  A sleepy town is rocked when a rhinoceros crashes through the streets.  Or was it two?  Debates ensue.  And it only gets weirder from there.

13.  One Hundred Years of Solitude – (English) Gabriel Garcia Marquez 448 ***

    LOVED it.  The story of several generations of a family in Latin America that weaves magic and mythology with history.

14.  Everything Is Illuminated – Jonathan Safran-Froer 288

    Fun narrative voice even if the plotline doesn't really go anywhere.  An American boy seeks the Ukrainian who may have saved his grandmother from the Nazis.

15.  Les Jeux Sont Faits – Sartre 164

    Typical Sartre depressing novel.  You really are a hapless victim of your own fate.  Boo hoo.  I loved it.

16.  The Looming Tower – Lawrence Wright 576

    Non-fiction.  The history of Al-Quaeda and the road to 9/11.  Very comprehensive and unbiased.  I think everybody should have to read it.

17.  Ute

    Whimsical story of porcelain afficionados who can't really cope with the real world.  (Rec. by Alec.)

18.  Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini 378

    I will never understand what makes a book popular in the USA.  This book had an interesting setting (Afghanistan before and after the Soviet occupation) but it was the MOST PREDICTABLE PLOTLINE EVER.  And the characters were 2-dimensional.  And the sheer number of coincidences were just laughable.  Don't bother.

19.  Cent ans de solitude – (French) Gabriel Garcia Marquez 460

    I figured since it was written in Spanish to begin with, I oughta re-read it in French.  It's just as good the second time through.

20.  Pudd'nhead Wilson – Mark Twain 256

    Twain at his best!  Whimsical story about two boys switched at birth.  A satire attacking the legacies of slavery and racism.

21.  The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Junot Díaz 352

    A Dominican-American family and a multi-generational curse leaving tragedy and broken hearts in its wake.

22.  The Eleanor Wong Trilogy – Eleanor Wong

    A bright and ambitious lesbian lawyer in Singapore struggling to succeed in a conservative society.  (Rec. by Alec)

23.  The Second World War – John Keegan 608

    If you want to read a 600-page comprehensive history of EVERYTHING involved in WWII (and who wouldn't?) this is the book.  Added fun - read it on the train from Berlin to Prague!

24.  Gouverneurs de la Rosee – Jacques Romain 202

    A story about a family struggling to overcome prejudice and hostilities in drout-ridden Haiti.  It's really, really depressing.  But has great landscape descriptions.  I had to carry around a French-English dictionary since I had no idea there were so many synonyms for "leaf" or "valley."

25.  Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh 368  ***

    I devoured this book in about 3 days.  An eloquent Brit and his fascination/obsession with a crumbling aristocratic family.

26.  The Art of Travel - Alain de Botton 272

    People seemed to think it was important that I read this.  Can't imagine why.

27.  The Audacity of Hope – Barack Obama 365

    I probably should have read this before the election, but I didn't.  Anyway, I'm even more optimistic about next Tuesday now.

The Night of Your Life - Jesse Reklaw

    This doesn't really count because it's a comic book.  People send the artist descriptions of their dreams and he makes them into very bizarre, often hysterical 4-panel comics.  Example : http://www.slowwave.com/index.php?date=08-03-22 .  By the way "Reklaw" is "Walker" backwards.
 
 
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "Thrash Unreal" by Against Me!
 
 
.lark.
14 January 2009 @ 06:06 pm

I used to love writing here.  I love writing for an audience.  I get so flustered when I try to talk about what I'm feeling that I often come across as utterly opinionless or a complete airhead.  I used to post and then force myself to wait a couple days before I posted again.
But something happened and I stopped writing too.  Maybe it was because I wasn't proud of it anymore.  I didn't have anything really to say about me that anybody else would find important.  Or even interesting.  And that's the whole point of writing about yourself, isn't it?  To be able to present yourself with the forethought that speaking never gives you so that you can carefully and meticulously make yourself sound good.
I don't know if I'm going to be proud of myself anytime soon, but I'm going to try to scrape off some rust and write again.

It's 2009.
In the last year, I sweated my face off in the summer dessert that is Tunisia.  I fell in love with the casual ugly deliciousness that is Brussels and the generous beauty that is Brugges.  I ate happy candy bars in Amsterdam.  I stepped on what was once the Berlin Wall and I drank beer with a 10 year-old in Dresden.  I listened to 12 different mosques sind dischordant calls to prayer in the medina of Marrakesh in the last week of Ramadan.  I found Rick's cafe in Casablanca!  I climbed Halloween-colored hills in Prague and poked my tongue out at my reflection in the river where my ancestors lived in Czecholslovakia.  I went to a fetish market in Togo and bribed my first official to get back over the border to Ghana where the sun beats down so hard onto the Gold Coast that all you can do is sleep or run away to the shade of the rain forest.  8 new countries isn't bad.

I read 28 books and probably a couple that I forgot to put on my list.  I'll post that later.  By my estimate it was 9,973 pages.

I kept alive a long-distance relationship for a full year.

So here's to 2009.  I'm aiming for 10,000 pages and a not-so-long-distance relationship.  It'll probably mean fewer countries though.
 

Tags:
 
 
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: reflecting
Current Music: "Keeper of the Light" by Ida Reed
 
 
.lark.
12 September 2008 @ 10:42 am
I've gone to work for Vote From Abroad, the "Easy Route for an Overseas Absentee Ballot" and the... less bipartisan Democrats Abroad.  If you're in Paris and are interested, here's some upcoming information from the Democrats Abroad:


The polls couldn't be any closer thus any mistake could mean defeat.  Now with the Conventions over, the real fun starts:  the debates.  Consequently, will Senator McCain claim that there is no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe and there never will be under his
administration?  Or, will Senator Biden tell Governor Palin that she isn't Jack Kennedy?

Well, the only way to find out is to watch them as these could well be the defining events of the campaign.
 
Fortunately, the Young Democrats and the Young Republicans are going to be showing them.
 
We will be watching the first Presidential and Vice-Presidential debate live while we will be rebroadcasting the two other Presidential debates.  The two live debates will be at 3 AM and last 90 minutes.  The rebroadcast will be the next day and more fun than YouTube as it will be a bipartisan crowd thus there will be cheering and jeering with every comment.  
 
At the moment, we haven't finalized the locations yet but want to tell everyone regardless so they can plan accordingly.
 
As such the details are:
 
1)    Presidential Debate #1 on Friday, 26/Sept thus 3 AM on the 27th
2)    Vice-Presidential Debate on Thursday, 3/Oct thus 3 AM on the 4th
3)    Presidential Debate #2 on 7/Oct thus the rebroadcast will be 8 PM on Wednesday, 8/Oct
4)    Presidential Debate #3 on 15/Oct thus the rebroadcast will be 8 PM on Thursday, 16/Oct
 
And, of course, there will be an election night party.  In fact, there will be two:  one at Cine-Aqua and another at Palais M.  The first will be sponsored by the Democrats and Republicans Abroad.  It will include food and drink and will cost ?80 and ?50 for those under 25.  The other will be sponsored by the Young Democrats and Young Republicans*.  It will be a cash bar with food available for purchase and will cost $10 which will include bagels and cream cheese. 
Proceeds from this event will be donated to the American Red Cross thus, like the debates, will be open to non-Americans. 
 
More details to be forthcoming once we have finalized the venues.  For any and all questions, please email us at roadtothewhitehouse@gmail.com.  
 
 
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: patriotic
 
 
.lark.
07 September 2008 @ 09:44 pm
Our usual hashtrash guy missed the run, so I volunteered to cover.  Here's the review.

Hash No. 709 or "That's what SHE said!"

The afternoon started slow, but then who can blame us?  Approximately half of the 20 hashers who drove, trained, skipped or crawled to Garches this fine summery day had driven, trained, skipped or crawled to a hash party the night before chez moi, and at least half of that number passed out at some point during the party itself for sheer exhaustion and/or one too many glasses.  (oooh, a math word problem!  all you MBA's can smile smartly and crack your knuckles!)
Anyway, as we ragtag motley crew assembled amidst murmurs of "How were the vacations?," "Not so loud, amigos, my head is pounding," and "Aw crap, Cupid's back," somebody got the inevitable phone call from Mysigha that he had missed the train and would we mind waiting for him since he had no less than 800 people with him?  We did but only because Alka needed to buy more baguettes to feed the abnormally large group.  (This of course meant Alka waving her imperious Grand Mattress Wand and appointing a lowly peon, in this case Blonde Ass, to "Go buy 3 baguettes, mule!")
After Silent Fart gave us a quick chalk talk, Coke Head ate some flour, Cupid chatted up the hot Australian chicks who showed up, Blonde Ass returned with baguettes, Mysigha and his brood showed up, Cupid chatted up Just Blanche (CS: "I'm not used to seeing you with your clothes on." JB: "Um... have we met?"), Mysigha gave us a chalk talk again (?), Lemonentry freaked out that there were more than 20 of us and the park rangers would take all our beer-money for an entrance fee, and Cupid chatted up all remaining new females... we split into a walker group and a ru- er... a non-walkers group.  And away we went!
As I and my ankle are still recovering from the adventure I good-naturedly refer to as the mud-beer-slip-twist-of-excruciating-pain last week, I joined the walker crew today.  This meant joshing with Bumper, listening to approximately 8 billion stories about recent rock concerts from FrogAss and following Pat My Fly.  It's convenient to have a hare in the walker group!  We walked a mighty, agonizingly brutal 80 steps into the woods and then took a right and hung out at the beer stop waiting for all those suckers to finish sprinting up and down hills and join us.
JustDylan of the Mysigha Brood was the FRB of the moment with Hot Dog a few paces behind.  JustBlanche and BlondeAss showed up a bit later without their shirts.  Neither of them mentioned what might have occurred in the time since we'd split company that caused them to lose their garments, and as far as I know they still ain't talkin'.  (CupidStunt : "I told you your clothes would come off."  Blanche: "Well, this is as far as YOU'RE getting.")  Much beer was drunk amidst the swatting of mosquitoes, the singing of songs, and the mighty fight to keep Coke Head from eating all of the peanuts.
Off we went again!  I can't speak for the actual pack, but we walkers drank the left-overs, took a pit stop, tossed the bottles, and strolled back to Garches at a leisurely pace.
We circled up only to be temporarily shanghaied by a dude who happened to be walking by with his family.  This random passer-by, I am not making this up, is a hasher from the Congo by the name of "Job Master!"  What are the chances?? The extent of my knowledge of the Congo comes from that horrible 90s movie where the giant gorillas kill everybody and throw eyeballs at Tim Curry, but it turns out it's also a country with a hash!  Who knew!?  It was especially funny because the guy wandered up with his wee little daughter in the middle of a song, so here's FrogAss leaping about pelvis-first yelling something like, "And then I fucked a viking!  With horns!  For hours!  Fuck!" as the little pig-tailed 4 year-old clutches her tricycle and stares at him in horror.
Anyway, after the longest freaking circle in HISTORY, in which downdowns went to virgins (3!), hares (2!), Hot Dog (1!), and just about everybody else since there was still beer, it was FINALLY GODDAMN TIME TO NAME JUSTBLANCHE!
Here, ladies and gentlemen, is the list of all 15 proposed names in the order in which they were knocked off the list (so, yeah that last one is her name.)  Themes included : sex, Hawaii, sex, funny story, Hawaii, and a couple of bizarre references that nobody else understood.  Also Hawaii and sex.
Hot Volcano
Hot Cum
Spout - (nixed because somebody else already has it)
Pamela
Doggy
Hot Mount
Mount
Screamer
Hala Hala Thighs
Bodily Fluid
Very Flexible
Wait Don't Move
Wanna Laya
Basic Instinct
... and introducing the one and only
MOANA LAYA

we're so very clever.
And finally, to continue the time honored tradition, the following are lines said during the hash to which I COULD have replied, "That's what SHE said!"
"Boy, you'll eat ANYTHING."  - Pat My Fly (to the dog)
"That hurts my buttocks." - Bumper (I'm not actually sure what she was talking about)
"I LOVE nuts!" - Frog Ass
"I shoulda used a rubber." - Bumper (she was, oddly enough, talking about her tshirt, not her offspring)
"That's the thing about babies.  They're so flexible!" - Pat My Fly
"Despite all this, we really do hope you'll come back." - Mysigha

And that's the note I think I'll end this on...
Love, beer, and many happy returns (God willing, to the arms of palm-skirted island maids),
CFWM
Tags:
 
 
Current Location: St. Cloud
Current Mood: joyous
Current Music: Swing Low (Hashing version)
 
 
.lark.
20 August 2008 @ 02:11 pm
My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

I'm standing on a stage
Of fear and self-doubt
It's a hollow play
But they'll clap anyway

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You're standing next to me
My mind holds the key

I'm living in an age
That calls darkness light
Though my language is dead
Still the shapes fill my head

I'm living in an age
Whose name I don't know
Though the fear keeps me moving
Still my heart beats so slow

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You're standing next to me
My mind holds the key
My body is a -

My body is a cage
We take what we're given
Just because you've forgotten
That don't mean you're forgiven

I'm living in an age
That screams my name at night
But when I get to the doorway
There's no one in sight

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You're standing next to me
My mind holds the key

Set my spirit free
Set my spirit free
Tags:
 
 
Current Mood: dancing
Current Music: The Arcade Fire
 
 
.lark.
11 August 2008 @ 03:59 pm
Tunisia

The first thing that you notice about Tunisia is that it is hot. Like, the air-conditioned airplane touches down and you think, “Oh man it's gonna suck when they open that door” kind of hot. Almost all of Tunisia is a massive Death-by-August, Lawrence of Arabia kind of desert, except for the only part of the country that I actually saw. Despite the air, which is clearly 110° dry desert air, grass and tress and lush lawns and botanical gardens all grow happily along a green coast-line in complete defiance, as far as I can tell, of all known laws of climate and botany.

As far as the people, warmth is something different entirely. Everyone at my hotel and the majority of the people I buy water bottles from are terse and rude to me. This is hard for me to stomach because a) I hate it when people don't like me and really try to avoid that, and b) I am buying a lot of water bottles. I carry giant, awkward 2 litre things around with me everywhere and finish them within an hour and have to go buy another. It is SO hot and so dry that I go for stretches of like 36 hours without having to pee. Which is very weird for me. My cab-driver, on the other hand, is so talkative and eager to show and share Tunisia, that I hire him to show me around the old city and even let him rip me off a bit when he takes me to the airport. (That was an “on the other hand” to the rude Tunisians, not that bit about bathrooms.) Najla's family too is gracious and friendly almost to a fault as I try to sneak into Najla's pocket when she's not looking, the 11 dinars they bartered down for a soccer jersey I wanted.

I spent a day and a half with Team Jamoussi, wandering through covered medinas where Mariam helped me act more Arabic so that I'd stop screwing up their bartering abilities, through smaller cities and towns around Tunis with their ornate bright blue doors, blinding against the whitewash of the walls, and through the ruins of old Carthage.

Guide: Here are some Phoenician ruins. Then the Romans destroyed them. Here are some Roman ruins. Then they were destroyed. Here are Byzantine ruins. Then they were destroyed. And there are the Tunisian houses!

Lucy: (to Anouar) So be VERY careful.

This left me a couple days to tool around by myself, which is VERY STRONGLY RECOMMENDED AGAINST IN CAPITAL LETTERS AND MAYBE EVEN AN ITALLICS by my guidebook. It's not dangerous, exactly, the guidebook hastens to add, just... there aren't many women who walk by themselves here, and men are much more forward in North Africa.

I raise an eyebrow. “Look, guidebook,” I say, “I live in Paris. I've been clubbing in ROME for Chrissakes. I can handle forward guys.”

Guidebook is offended and hides under a table so that I will not be able to find him the next day and will almost certainly get lost without his handy map.

Guidebook also recommends that I dress conservatively, but since it is 110°, jeans would mean death, so it's big, baggy calf-length pants and a black zip-up shirt with the sleeves cut off but that still covers my shoulders. Men ARE forward, but they aren't gross, and it's kind of fun to hear them guess where I'm from if I don't respond when they speak French to me. Based on my tally, I look Portuguese more than anything else. Who knew? Rob, I think, will get a kick out of this.

Women do not talk to me, but they smile and look at me with great curiosity as I tramp by in my dykie outfits, lugging my awkward water bottle and clearly very lost. Not too many women wear the head-scarf in Tunis – 30% maybe? That's more than it used to be, according to Najla because it's currently... in style.

I'd buy it. As I walked down to my hotel one night from a festival in Sidi-Bou Saīd, I passed two girls in black skirt-top outfits. One was wearing a bright yellow hijab that matched perfectly the collar on her tank-top, the cuff on her skirt, and her heels. The other girl had the same outfit in red. To my eye, it made them look a little like crayons, but not necessarily in an unsexy way... which I thought was the whole point.

Mum was really curious about the food when we spoke, and I'm sure I made up something, but the truth is that I only ate one “Tunisian” meal while there. Mariam explained to me that everyone in Tunis looses weight during the summer because on days where 120° isn't uncommon, the only thing you can imagine stomaching is fruit, ice cream, and ohmygodIneedanotherwaterbottle. This isn't necessarily bad as the fruit is AMAZING. I bought a peach and a bag of figs from a vendor in an orchard, and that fruit was so good that if it game me worms, I'd still call it worth it.

I say “if” because as I finish this, I am currently on a train from Amsterdam back to Paris, and I've had stomach problems since we got to Belgium 5 days ago...
Tags:
 
 
Current Location: Tunisia
Current Mood: adventurous
Current Music: "Mother Mongolia" by Altan Urag
 
 
.lark.
hello.

i am thinking of you right now because the clouds can't decide whether to hide behind my chimney or not. you seemed sort of transient in our last meeting. it might have just been our tendancy for a glorious melodramatic example of things going unsaid. there was something in my early-evening that made you seem more like a pleasant daydream or a fade-out in crime TV than someone holding a gift bag and exchanging pleasantries. but you tripped on a chair and it made a noise.

my city smells like summer and like rain tonight. the sidewalks are sweating out the last stubborn bits of spring and everyone's shoes have been ruined. people swarm out of the underground like ants but when they open their mouths, they make subway noises. there are tan-lines everywhere, even on the taxis. i am lying on my back on my roof looking at the indecisive clouds and thinking about summer and summers while the gritty roof-mud gets in my hair.

read any good books lately?
 
 
Current Location: the roof
Current Mood: dreamy
Current Music: "My Body is a Cage" by The Arcade Fire
 
 
.lark.
First off, a big ol' hallo to all YOU new folks on the mailing list! To you and to people like Grandma (hi Grandma!), here's some forewarning : I'm irreverent and use bad words in this email. But I remain readable! Evan Smith, I'm going to make fun of you in this edition just 'cuz I know you won't read it! Ha ha!
Anyway... Jeeeeeez, months, Walker. It's been MONTHS since we last heard from you! "We thought you were dead, killed in a cage fight in Bangkok!" cry the pessimists among you. "We figured you'd run away with a heart-shatteringly beautiful gypsy with big earrings and could now be found dancing under the shadow of Notre Dame with a goat named Jezebel!" cry the optimists. (All gypsies should own a goat, don't you think? It's bad enough that in France they ruin the bonfire and swirly skirt image by hawking and stealing and generally being a real pain anywhere there's a hope at ripping off a tourist in this city. They should at least own a goat.) No I'm very much alive, having survived Thailand, and I'm still swearing under my breath at the stinking goatless gypsies... and do apologize for my long absence. Credit it to the elephant in the room.
"What is with the animal metaphors?" you hapless mailing distribution list must be wondering. But honestly, isn't that a great idiom in the English language? The Elephant in the Room. The unspeakable subject that is IMPOSSIBLE to ignore. "Elephant in the Room" would be a great name for an emo band. Anyway, there was this unfortunate elephant in the room for ME of late. i could send around the email that was unbearably funny in which i whined about all the blisters I'm getting from running about with beer in my shoes or i could wax poetic about the impossibly beautiful rainbowed reflections of the royal palace in Thailand upon the strange whitewash of the army barracks next door. but the truth is, i've got a lot on my mind that would be really weird to talk around, and as it was, i wasn't allowed to talk about it. But now i am! guess what?! i'm losing my job!
the part of me that is a little too proud hastens to add that they're not firing ME exactly. they're closing the Paris office, and there is no way in hell this little pirate is going back to Houston. i don't feel like discussing the blood-soaked details, but basically my company found itself in a situation that many noted economists and high-ranking energy analysts have described as, "royally fucked." a lot of stuff had to go, and that, unfortunately, included my bureau. there are upsides. i get a decent severance package, and this whole thing happened just in time for me to actually get my visa. so while i may get deported after all, that won't happen until one year from April 23. i have decent contacts and am more or less bilingual, so my job options seem... well, there's a reason to be optimistic. the downsides are obvious. i WOULD have really liked my job. also, in the subsequent hullabaloo in the Paris office, everyone has been stressed, short, and quick to stab each other in the back. i spent some time absolutely convinced that i was going to be completely screwed over (again!) by hr, receiving neither the somewhat comforting severance package of American employees nor the medical coverage and, you know, food and stuff that the French employees will get from the government. some of this has been resolved. what's left is a REALLY nasty aftertaste of corporate America. i knew i should have been a caveman.

right, enough of that. there are fun things too. i have gotten really into hashing. (new folks, look up the Hash House Harriers on wikipedia. meanwhile, a quick explanation : a social running group that involves tromping around in the woods, lots of yelling, and even more alcohol.) i am running at least one and often two hashes a week now. i hared my first one last weekend and went through the naming ceremony two weeks ago. this requires kneeling in the middle of a circle while the r.a. solemnly pronounces you by your new, incredibly embarrassing hash name while simultaneously pouring flour over your head. then everybody else sings a song and pours beer on you. the result is that you smell like a bakery, get really weird looks on the train back home and find yourself picking dough out of your hair up to 5 days later. and no, i will not tell you my hash name. you'll just have to WAIT and learn it when you go on a run with me. unless you are a close family member in which case, you will simply never know. get used to it.

the summer is rapidly approaching and with it come enough visitors to make me invest in a box-spring and stock my fridge with things besides mustard, vodka, and club soda nicked from my office. (this actually is all i have in my fridge right now. i would take a picture to prove it, but my camera is out of batteries.) IF you are coming to visit but have still not given me dates, i need them soon. i'm not pointing fingers unless your name starts with R and ends with Ebecca El-Saleh. [Shannon Bedo, you're not off the hook either.] my calendar follows at the end of this email.

i have an adorable apartment in the Latin Quarter. i even have the ability for a landline, but since i don't have a telephone yet, i'm not going to give you the number. for now, if you want my new address, email me. my apartment is more or less empty of the 8 billion cardboard boxes it had about 10 days ago and i'm intent on making it mine. i have put things on the walls, and it now has things as interesting and diverse as a huge hovering ufo-looking floorlamp that nearly killed me trying to get it from ikea to the 5th on the metro, a Chelsea towel set, and a freezer that reaches temperatures at which vodka actually freezes. i'm not making this up. i didn't even know that was possible. still need to buy : a telephone, fans for upcoming hot summer months without air conditioning, food.

if you miss me like mad, it's probably a good idea to send me love tomorrow before 10 pm. tomorrow, as you are doubtless aware, Chelsea takes on Manchester United in the Champions League finals. i intend to be loud, clad in blue, and rather obnoxious. if we win, i may be killed by rabid English hooligans. if we lose, i may have to kill myself. or go sulk for the subsequent couple YEARS. go play tag with a bullet train, Christiano Ronaldo, you whiner.

Love, Take Care, and On On!,

Lucy/Lark/Alouette/----

p.s. as PROMISED : when Evan blows his nose, i am constantly reminded of the cannon fire in the last 2 minutes of the 1812 Overture.

p.p.s. my schedule :
May 23 - June 1 : Lucy to RI for Commencement and Related Insanity
June 5 - 9 : She volunteers to put up 2 Jabberwoks as they travel through Paris on some official a-capella tour of wussy. Also of Europe. The Jabberwoks are an all-male fancy-shmancy a-capella group from Brown. We pirates used to use them for cannon fodder. They will never know what hit them.
June 14 - 17 : Jake visits from England! (June 16 : Fraternity party in Lucy's apartment)
End June : Tootles, Cheniere. Have a nice life.
June 21 - 27 : She goes to California to be with her family! And be in the Redwoods! Yay!
June 27-29 : Her friends get married and she and Pat get scared and thereby drunk! Yay!
July : Jonathan. Also, unemployed. There are not words enough.
Early July : Blanche and Alianza and Woozy and Lark and Cannon and maybe even Blackheart and Karlotta live in one apartment. This means a lot of hot, blond potentially single pirateness sharing a bed. I am, of course, talking about Woozy.
Either late July or Early August : She [and possibly J] jet off to Tunisia to bother Najla. Hi Najla!
August 4ish - 10ish : Alec! Insanity Ensues!
September sometime or maybe October : Daphne will stay in exchange for "washing your floor." Whatever that means!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the kind of summer I am expecting.

p.p.p.s. i am going to backlog old distributions on blogspot : http://corsaireaparis.blogspot.com . you new folks can find my past adventures there. you old folks can stop asking me for that funny story where i told off the Parisian rugby fan.

p.p.p.p.s. I hope Butterbur sends this probptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room : thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him. (Kudos to those of you who get the reference. Without google.)
Tags: ,
 
 
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: sore
Current Music: The LOST theme"song"
 
 
 
 

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