Lucien got his yellow belt in karate (guess it was worth it to take all those swings at him in front of The Men who Lunch) but he won't let me take a proper picture of him with it. The best I could do was briefly capture the yellow belt as it disappeared under the sofa slipcover.
The Loosh came with me to run errands yesterday while Coco stayed home with our cleaning lady. We stopped at Monoprix where I heard Lucien's sing-song voice on the other side of a jewelry display -- "Mom-eee, I have a good ideeeea for you..." and then this ring appeared around the corner. My eyes grew wide in horror but his grin was so big, so proud, so happy. I bought the ring and will wear it forever.
It's as subtle as Lucien
If anyone ever looks at my ring asks, "What the hell is THAT?" I will simply say, "I bought it in Paris." That will shut them up, and make them feel embarrassed about their lack of fashion sense.
Les Soldes are going on again so I've been doing a fair bit of shopping. As I perused the racks of a nearby store last week, an American family walked in -- mom, dad, two young boys. The boys ran around the store yelling and playing hide-n-seek behind the clothing racks, and sometimes behind other shoppers, while everyone else in the store gave the parents the stinkeye. The parents didn't even try, didn't even seem to notice their children shrieking and running through the middle of the store.
So tell me honestly -- is my head going to explode when I return to America? Because I can no longer stand kids running wild, outrageous food portions, or the Kardashians. Thankfully, I still love Nacho Cheese Doritos and miss them dearly, so they may be my salvation.
We went out to dinner Saturday night with a couple friends visiting from Seattle. We actually met them here in Paris, but they live in Seattle and will be our friends when we return. They haven't agreed to that yet, but we are putting together a presentation and hope they are swayed.
Our Saturday night dinner was at Au Vieux Comptoir. We really like that place. This is a picture of our hands and plates and things. Those are my scallops in front of me -- directly across from me are Al's veal kidneys. Al's a disturbed individual. We sat outside and drank a ton of wine (literally, maybe?)
Here's a picture of our (previously Paris, now Seattle) friends during our late night walk home. They're expecting their first child and we couldn't be happier for them. Also, there's nothing better than strolling the streets of Paris at night with good company.
I noticed during our walk home the large advertisement on the Conciergerie has been changed -- what used to be an ad for the iPad now says, "Yo, the justice system is modernizing, ALL FOR YOU."
We think this is in response to all the people who complained about the iPad advertisement on the side of the Conciergerie. I think they're telling everyone to quit bitching -- Apple ads on the sides of historical buildings are the wave of the future and everyone needs to get on board.
I've got a lot of random thoughts to share before I KA-POW you with the x-rated drawing. Don't worry, I'm going away soon so this is all you'll have to remember me by for the next two weeks or so. Here's one more thought before the dirty goods.
When I was out for Fete de la Musique, I saw this portrait spray painted on a wall. I liked it very much, even more so when I read the note down below explaining there were four portraits painted around the 6th arrondissement, all of well-loved people in the 6th --
I thought it was a cool idea, and a pretty great piece of street art, so I went home and looked up this particular well-loved person -- he's Frederic Beigberder, a French writer and literary critic. He was arrested in 2008 for snorting cocaine off the hood of a car in the 8th arrondissement. He created the prestigious writing award known as the Flore Award, named after the famous Cafe Flore in my 'hood. He has also appeared in a pornographic film. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to like this guy. He seems well-rounded.
Anyway, my positive feelings don't appear to be shared, because just a few days later, I saw this, and felt sad --
Oh, Freddie, I'm so sorry
And there was this personal note written on the note explaining the project --
Alex thinks it means Frederic is not loved by more than 100 people, at most. He doesn't really understand it completely. Seems like someone is either pissed about Frederic's writing, or his criticizing, or his not sharing of the drugs, or the not winning of his prestigious prize, or the sexiness of his film roles. Whatever the reason, the person sucks for destroying such a well-crafted piece of art.
This is one of the other portraits in the 6th. It's pretty good, too. At least nobody's pissed at this guy --
OK, here come the goods. When Al and I were out for our solo Sunday, he noticed this advertisement posted on a fence. Actually, there were about a hundred of them in a row, so they were tough to miss --
This is what you get when you read a blog written in Paris. Oh come on, I warned you in the beginning -- don't get all prudish on me now.
"Osez le Clito" means... well... "Osez" kind of means, "Hey, why don't you try...." and "Le clito" I'm going to let you figure out yourself. We looked it up online and it's a campaign by a feminist group aimed at the fellas, saying, "Ummm....hello?"
Al and I think it's just about the greatest thing we've seen, ever. God bless France.
And that is all. You're welcome.
P.S. My parents have been married for 48 years today. Happy Anniversary, my wonderful, wonderful parents. Sorry I mentioned your anniversary right after a drawing of a vagina. Love you!