thoughts: July 2006 Archives

<-- thomas is making this a photo free blog...

today i had the pleasure of getting a massage to relax all the tensions away.  you know the ones, grading, police reports, students, heat. 

i love that in france, spas and pharmacies are like starbucks and mcdonalds in the us; they are everywhere and on every corner.  i am exaggerating about the spas being on every corner, but the pharmacies sure are.  and the spas can be found on every other street corner.

i am not about to make generalizations about the french and what they like, but they sure do know what i like.  these people get me.  they know i like homeopathic drugs and i like it when people rub my back.  i love massages more than i love chocolate.  actually, that isn't true, but i would be hard pressed to decide between the two.  there has to be a way to have them both at the same time....

but today was a real turning point in my massage experiences.  it involves my feet.  you see, i need a pedicure but have this issue where i don't want anyone to come near my feet... touching them really wigs me out.  but i was too lazy to explain this to the masseuse today, and consequently, i let her touch my feet.

i won't say that i enjoyed that part tremendously, especially when she was touching my toes, but i didn't flail my body off the table and start screaming obscenities in any language i could think of either.  i think this is a step in the right direction.  namely a much needed pedicure.

maybe, in order to get over this foot quirk that i have, i need to go into massage therapy.  once a week, get a massage to help me deal with this... i think i should give that a shot...

<-- this is becoming a habit...

where i stay in the summers, here in paris, gets invaded regularly by the english and their large groups of offspring.  now, i know that the children do not belong to the five or six supervisors since there are about 30 kids, but for the trip, they belong to the supervisors. 

i am about to offend all british people.  so if you are one, please pull out a pen and paper to take notes.

the children and the adults, and it is not just the children, but the adults as well.... fully grown british people.  i would also like to point out that this is not just one group.  this is about ten different groups i have witnessed... this summer.  i could do some math and add in the ones from the prior two summers as well, but that would be obscene.

back to the point: none of them know how an elevator (so that the brits will understand, the lift) works or functions.  they do not understand that the up button calls for an elevator to go, well, up.  or that the down button calls for an elevator to go... that's right, down.

there is a light that lights up and it is an arrow.  it points in the direction the elevator is going.  up for up.  down for down.  now.  all of this seems like common sense but apparently for the british, once they step in front of the lifts, they break out into a cold sweat and immediately start to panic.  and what do they do?  they push both the up and the down button.

now i know that they can't go to both places at once.  but this is what they do.  and when an elevator comes... they get on.  they don't check to see if it is going in their direction, no.  they just get on.  and then they push the button for the exact opposite direction.  the funniest part of the whole thing is, they seem frustrated that the elevator doesn't go in the direction they wanted.  "i told it to go to the basement, why is it going to the 8th floor?"

in all of this mass confusion, ultimately everyone pays the price.  the elevators stop working or are tied up with the british riding them up and down, not really sure when to get on or off.  thus causing mass amounts of frustration for the rest of the hotel population, including the spanish, the swiss, the germans, the americans, the italians, the argentenians and the french; all of which know how to use an elevator.

if anyone ever wants to bring the british empire down, if anyone ever wants to destroy great britain, if anyone ever wants to invade the islands, just install elevators in every building.

<-- ein foto, bitte.

my title ends with a period because that's the end of it.  i have nothing further to say about the weather and complaining about it is not a solution.

today, in paris, i got taken to a seedy part of town... oh my.  to a fabulous restaurant for lunch that served breton food, which i love.  i got to drink cider imported from a farm which was quite divine and tasted oh so good.  i loves me some cider.  and for those of you who don't know what it is, think of beer made from apples instead of wheat.

my meal started off with a lovely mixed green salad with a cold zucchini, eggplant and some fish brick.  it was light and delicious.  followed by a lovely tuna with more eggplant.  for dessert, i had the house specialty which was a pastry filled with a mousse.  it was light and delicious.

the best part of the meal was that i was invited.  i hadn't realized that it was the french "invite" not the american "invite."  namely the difference being, in french, invite means "i want you to come and i will pay."  whereas in english, invite means frequently "i want you to come along with me."

it was lovely to get to have a delicious meal with adults and made me wish for thomas to be there.  but next year, he and i can go to the restaurant together and get tipsy on the cider.  letting the bubbles go through our nose and enjoy that refreshingly intoxicating apple flavor trickle down. 

i do love to eat.

<-- my darling husband shall post photo here.

in the oppressing heat of paris, 36 celsius which equals hotter than he!! on the fourth of july fahrenheit, i am sitting here.  literally.  moving is stifling.

the heat has gotten to the point that i am now on my third liter of water, when i probably only drink .75 on any given day.  the air is not moving and is sitting there, waiting patiently as it smothers everyone.

i tried my old tricks of taking a nap.  but i couldn't sleep.  my pillow wet from sweat dripping from my neck and scalp.  i spread out trying to cool down and put the fan on me.  the fan only blows hot air that smells and feels like an oven.

i have finally broken.

i am a hot weather lover.  i am a spring and summer flower with nothing but respect for the heat.  but even after some time, it can get to me too.  and there is nothing i can do to fix it.  complaining doesn't make me feel better.  it doesn't change the fact that i loathe my clothes, not because i hate the way the look, but because i don't want anything to touch me.

i have fantasies of being suspended in the air, free floating and motionless with a cool breeze over me.  instead.  i am sitting here, typing this trying to accurately describe the heat. 

at least i can feel my toes.

when one is "alone" (by alone, you should read: with 14 students) in paris (yes, i know i should not complain) and left to her own devices or vices, one often thinks and reflects on oneself.

so essentially, i can go hours without speaking to people.  this is weird for me because i am generally a social person.  a quiet person, but social.  at home, it is not unusual for me to be reflective or quiet but when people are around, i am usually social.  thomas may disagree.  but without thomas, and the students off doing who knows what, i am frequently by myself which leaves me thinking about myself.

yes.  i am that vain and self centered that i would sit around and ponder myself than go to notre dame.  been there.  done that.  i can give the tour.  in two languages.