INDUBITABLY I DO SHAY ‘OL CHAP!!
Nathan, you practically have an obligation to reblog this post, if you do indeed consider yourself the fanciest of gents. WHAT SAY YOU, lad?
The Phlyarologist
-Joseph Conrad
my flickr photostream: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nonsensibility/show/
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
One thing I did not anticipate missing (and absolutely LOVED about today’s drive) was the fact that I caught a brief glimpse of the popular music trends that have swept across Amurica for the past three and half.
Oh, 102JAMZ, how I have missed thee and thine oft questionable, blastedly catchy choice of ghettolicious music.
“Call me Mr. Fliinstone; I can make ya bedrock.” Um, come again? [Did the thrust of that joke penetrate your mind, or should I explain?]
Exhibit A: “Bedrock” remix-Young Money ft. Lloyd
Mexican with milk. Yum.
Home, back again. *sigh*
On the flight back from Paris, the airline staff served little snack sandwiches with packets of Dijon mustard, which I did not eat, but stuffed as a last souvenir into what little space was left in my backpack. Meanwhile, the flight attendant, the poor dear, struggled through the rudimentary, procedural safety announcements she had to make in French, and I cringed out of embarrassment for her. I almost offered to help her along, would that not have been entirely too presumptuous of me.
I tried to be the last in line to board my flight from Charles de Gaulle, but the few stragglers who sidled up behind me dashed that little endeavor.
My last few steps on French territory, down the rickety gate leading to the plane, were devoid of emotion, save the irony of noting the “Bienvenue a France!” banner pasted along the side of the wall.
I am living at home, with my family. I’d prefer it otherwise.
That’s all for now.
P.S. Mexixan food and milk normally don’t go hand in hand, unless you’ve been craving both for quite some time. =)
GUESTBREAKER: You Don’t Dance
It’s one thing if you can’t dance. At least you’ll try, get some laughs on the dance floor and have fun. Maybe you’d even be willing to take salsa classes with me some day. But that’s not the problem. You REFUSE to get anywhere near the dance floor.
At weddings you stayed anchor to your seating arrangement, knocking back drinks with a grimace on your face as you watch your closest friend and family member enjoy themselves shaking their hips to a Beyonce jam while your aunts pretend they’re all still “Single Ladies.”
You leave me with only two choices:
1) Baby sit you for the night and keep you company until the next meal course comes out in order to avoid total boredom.
2) Or wait for one of your buddies, one of my girlfriends, or one of our 8-year-old nephews to take pity on me and ask me to dance.
What, do you think you’re cool by not dancing? Even Fonzie danced! Are you self-conscious? You know there’s probably a drunk housewife on the hardwood who cannot comprehend the concept of rhythm. There is always someone worse than you dancing Take a couple of shots and get over it. At least you’re not Elaine.A Guest Dealbreaker written by Kristina.
Yeah, get your arse on that dance floor. Immediately.
“Rue St. Vincent”-Yves Montand
By the time this song is published on my tumblr, I will (hopefully, if all goes as scheduled) be boarding my flight going from Paris to Chicago.
Farewell, France. Thanks for a spectacular semester! I shall miss you dearly…and I hope to see you again soon.
My final moments in Dijon- My host mom, Marie Pierre and our cat, Ismene; decorating the Christmas tree; my neighborhood and garden; the last kebab; my room.
Opladen and Cologne, selected photos
12 More Hours
in Dijon.
Here are some things I plan on accomplishing immediately upon my return. It helps to take pride in little victories by checking things off this list, that way I’m not aimlessly stupefied and numb to the fact that I’m going to be home tomorrow.
-A long, hot, steamy shower with a full size showerhead. Hooray for not having to kneel while I rinse my hair! (Sexual jokes are allowed, I should’ve seen that one coming)
-A burrito
-hugging my dog, Cleo
-going to Ed McKay and Borders
-the smell of roasting coffee
-drinking real coffee and not tiny little cups of cafe espressos
-sleeping
-catching up on writing in my journal
-painting
-friends
-bundling up in front of my fireplace with cider and a good book
-North Carolina landscapes
-ripping music from the radio station
-Christmas carols
-a brand new cell phone
-reflecting and reminiscing on the past three and a half
