It's been over a year now that Olivier & I have been battling with our upstairs neighbors, Hedwig & the Banshee. We've talked, argued & pleaded with them.They whined, complained & threatened to escalate the situation. We filed complaints with the Paris police - their shitty habits are just too damn annoying & disruptive. Although, to be fair...the majority of people living in our building don't seem to be familiar with how to be a good neighbor.It's not just the neighbors in the building. As I sit here writing this, I'm listening to the screams & chatter coming from the elementary school & junior high just behind our building.Eh...our apartment is too small, anyway.We've repainted all of the rooms & repaired all of the floors.We got in touch with an agency here in Paris that will rent the apartment from us & will use it to house families in need.Ok, then...all we had to do was...
It feels like it was only about a week ago that Olivier & I were being bombarded by all of that fucking rice.But...it was two years ago already. Damn.The traditional gift for the 2nd anniversary is cotton. Fucking cotton? Whatever. It's true that I really would like to have my own special room filled with nothing but cotton balls just so that I could jump in it like a giant, silent pile of leaves...but Olivier is always throwing that phrase "it's not practical" at me whenever I come up with brilliant ideas like that.So, no cotton ball room...but, I was actually coaxed out of the house by promises of delicious Greek cuisine. I had completely forgotten how much I hate shoes & pants. Olivier was a walking snot-faucet & had himself all jacked-up on cold medicine...No, really...he was sick. I'm sure that you're thinking it was the past couple of years that gave...
Not all women change their names after they get married, but I did.Well, sort of. It depends on where you look.All of my paperwork here in France says that I am “Mrs. Massoud.” However, if you take a look at my Colorado driver’s license, my social security card & my passport, Mrs. Massoud is nowhere to be found.Since our 2-year wedding anniversary is coming up next week, it seemed like a good time to finally make some of this shit official.Ugh. Two countries, Two names. Too much of a fucking hassle.The real problem is the fact that my passport is about to expire and armed with only my carte de séjour, I’d only be free to move about the E.U. That might be a bit of a problem should I ever feel like heading home to the states again, which is likely since there isn’t an Arby’s anywhere in France.I did some checking. It seemed that I would have to...
La fée verte. The green fairy. Absinthe.No one is quite certain as to the details of its origin, but absinthe was made famous here in France. Of course, it had a little help from guys like Picasso......and my personal favorite, Degas.There are plenty more, but you get the idea.Many people, when they think of absinthe, automatically think of Paris somewhere around the late 19th century or early 20th century.Maybe other people think of this movie.For most people, absinthe conjures up images of artists, writers, bohemians...Paris cafés and cabarets.I doubt that there are many people who associate absinthe with this.What the hell is that? Well, that is Eurycantha Horrida. But, you can call him Spiny Devil Walking Stick. Doesn't he look delicious? Imagine Spiny marinating in a nice bottle of absinthe for who knows how long.Nope. I'm not jerking you around. It's true. For the low price of only $156.66 (€107.15), you can have this:Personally, I don't understand the appeal. If...
One thing that you can always find in Paris is a pharmacie. Any time that you're out walking around in the streets, just take a look around you & no doubt you will see the neon green cross that will guide your way toward the salvation that only prescription medicine, band aids & medicated ointments can provide.Naturally, once you get inside, it's a bit smaller than most American drug stores & it's all business in there.Perhaps you're thinking, "Well, of course it's all business...it's a damn pharmacy. What else would you do in there?"Well, here's the thing: at some American drug stores, say...like a Walgreen's, there is a lot more to do inside. You don't even have to need any prescription medication, band aids or medicated ointments to have a good time in there. Really, you don't even have to buy anything. Just peruse the aisles for something ridiculous - which you will have no problem finding - & have...
1. Stand at your window & wait for an organ grinder or other street musician to appear on the street to entertain you. 2. Go look at shiny things. 3. Mingle among some of the locals. 4. Spend an afternoon loitering in front of Jim Morrison's old apartment building. 5. Or, you could just go see Jim. 6. You can visit some more old friends while you're there. 7. Go to a rugby game. 8. Or you could just go watch it on TV in a bar. 9. Enjoy the thick, pungent aroma & charm of the Paris sewers. 10. Go stand next to someone you don't know & have your picture taken with a stranger. 11. Approach people at help desks & attempt to communicate with them only by whistling. 12. Explore creepy basements. 13. Take lots of pictures.Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!The purpose of the meme is to get to...
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