Well, this is the day I knew was coming. I’m tired and irritated. I don’t feel like dealing anyone or anything anytime soon. Odd as it sounds, ten days into the visit, I’m entirely sure this is due to jet lag. I didn’t really have any issues with jet lag the first seven days because I didn’t even try to assimilate to the time zone. Continue reading
Just about every fast food joint or American-style coffee shop in Paris is a clusterfuck. This is a given. The high-turnover nature of the service, combined with the perception of it being an oasis for weary, homesick Americans looking for a place to regroup and argue over how the Metro works and which line would be best make it so. Side note : from experience, the woman is always right in these arguments. This is not ass-kissing to the ladies : I stand by my assertion that their driving directional skills are suspect – but for some reason, they’ve got mass transit down.
One of the first pleasant surprises I discovered in my time living overseas was one of the hardest to relinquish when it was time to come back home. It was a simple concept, one that was everything and nothing at the same time. It made social interaction more interesting, and made it a hell of a lot easier to get coveted attention from the fairer sex.
The day started off like just about every one of them over here; awakening to the clatter of keys immediately outside my door somewhere around 8am. I don’t know who is living in the flat next to me, but I can only assume they stalk the streets of Paris at night, murdering innocents, and adding their house keys to their KeyRing of Death as trophies. Because that shit is getting louder every night. I Continue reading
I like to think I’m not a cynic, but I am skeptical more often than not. So when I first watched “Live at Wembley Stadium”, a concert film of the Foo Fighters, I was skeptical of the sincerity of the emotion singer Dave Grohl displayed as he spoke to the crowd.