ten thousand small biting insects

18 Oct

I need, for one thing, to start coming up with more relavant titles. I cannot for the life of me figure out why whenever I see that title bar blank before me I must squiggle out some strange half-comprehensible no-caps sentence. Perhaps it’s a figment of my subconcious coming through to surprise me. I have no idea.

Anyway. Today was a rather eventful day. I read on my friend’s (who I have not seen for about…how long is it now? Ten years?) blog that he has come out of the closet, and I am both a little shocked and very proud. Congrats, man. I did not see this coming, but seeing as I live about, oh, two thousand miles away from him, that kinda figures. He’s studying philosophy! WAY TO GO!

So I am kind of trying to find a coherent topic. It is so hard to keep on one damn subject for more than five paragraphs, especially if you have a short attention span like me. I have my Blog Bottle next to me (more on that later in this post) and luckily I have festooned it with new Post-Its.

The first one that catches my eye (it’s yellow) has “Jonsi and Alex” on it. Jonsi, which is short for a much longer Icelandic name that I cannot be bothered to find out, is the lead singer/multi-instrumentalist of Sigur Ros. Alex is his boyfriend from New York. They just recently made an album together, and it is actually not half bad. I prefer Sigur Ros stuff, but this new album (called “Riceboy Sleeps”) is very dreamy and relaxing. You might want to check it out.
Anyway, I was puttering around their website yesterday and clicked on the “Recipes” link. It took me to this page with a video entitled “Macadamia Monster Mash” and man, with a name like that who can bloody resist clicking away? If you’d like to see it, click here.  It’s so cute. So cute. SOOO CUTE! “We’re going to, eh, de-brain the tomato.”

Alright, back to the blog-bottle. Might as well enlighten you as to what exactly it is. Sitting on my desk, close to my keyboard, is an empty Ritz Seltzer bottle, label and cap still on, absolutely plastered by about…fourty? Fifty?…a large number of Post-It notes. Y’know, the ones that are skinny, that you’re presumably supposed to use for lengthy contracts to indicate people to “sign here” and “initial here”. These are bright yellow and purple, and pretty haphazard in their distribution. There definitely used to be a pattern, but they kept falling off so I ended up just stickin’ them on any old way. This is a very handy writing tool. I have stuff about music, people, experiences that I should talk about, France…

oh, France. Have any of you been to Paris? God, it is a wonderful city. I went there last year, in March, on a week-long school trip (it’s called Mini Gusto Week, and you can choose from a bunch of different activities to do. Every year there is a trip off-island, to somewhere in Europe.) with exactly one good friend and several aquaintences. I had the time of my life.
The story I’ll share with ya now took place about three days in. We had gotten back from Versailles that morning, and asked our chaperones if maybe we could go shopping. My French teacher (Mme. Logan) decided that’d be a good idea, so we all wrapped up in coats and scarves and clattered down to the metro.
We got off and clattered back up the stairs only to find that we were right smack in front of one of the biggest department stores I’ve ever seen, the Galleries Lafayette. The other girls went nuts. We were told to meet back at the metro stop in a few hours, and not to pass such-and-such street, then were set free.
The other girls were gone in about three seconds, as well as my buddy Jamesey, who was lured by the promise of shiny leather boots and French designers. So I was left with the guys, hungry and a little annoyed. We decided to tromp over to a gyro/greek food place for lunch, and took our seats outside. It was about three in the afternoon, and the guys across from me could barely see in front of them. I called the waiter over (“Uh, Monsieur?”) and explained to him, in broken French, what had befallen the troupe (“Ils a le soleil dans leurs yeux.”)
He looked at the guys for a few seconds, then nodded and proceeded to press a button on the wall. And the awning moved out. Kyle’s (one of my aquaintences) eyes got wide as dinner plates.
For the rest of the lunch, he couldn’t stop talking about how very awesome this automated awning was, and how this food tasted so good (I’d gotten a Greek plate thing with about five different kinds of stuff on it, and the best damn lamb I’d ever eaten), and how he just couldn’t wait until we saw Le Roi Lion.

Man, I miss France. Probably going to go back this summer and stay with the friends of my mother’s friends. I am very much looking forward to it.

Anyway, ’nuff writing for now. I’ll see ya’ll later.

Ciao.

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