Category: blog

With the New Year upon us, many people are making resolutions. The most common resolutions are lose weight, drink and eat less, exercise, save money, quit smoking and stop sleeping with friends. I added that last one because I think it should be one of the more common resolutions. Not for me, of course. It’s just that I have a ‘friend’ who….

 

Since a lot of people are resolute to lose weight and exercise more, the fitness centers are packed the first few weeks of January. I’m glad people make such resolutions because it gives me one more reason to avoid the gym and focus on resolving things. Just so you have a better understanding of what I mean, I’ll provide some definitions courtesy of dictionary.com.

 

resolve: to come to a definite or earnest decision about; to separate into constituent or elementary parts; to reduce by mental analysis

 

resolute: firmly resolved or determined; set in purpose or opinion; characterized by firmness and determination, as the temper, spirit, actions, etc

 

I’ve made some earnest decisions about people and life (some people are disappointing, others are quite sexy and life isn’t fair – which is why some people are disappointing and others are quite sexy); separated some things into constituent parts (my new toothbrushes and dental floss now have their own container); and reduced my weight and debt by mental illness which increased my trendiness (my baggy boyfriend jeans are now skinny jeans – woohoo!).

 

To resolve instead of to make resolute seems like a better idea to me. Besides, based on the definition of resolute, it involves being firmly resolved. Thus, this year, I encourage you to resolve and evolve!

My second episode in Meaux will start the same as the first episode, with a few minor changes: instead of finding me standing in the frame of the French door, they will come through the French door where the sound of pots, pans and people talking will again be heard in the background and seen on the TV. They will then pan through the hallway toward la cuisine where the door is closed and the sound of pots, pans, running water and ‘talking’ can be heard. The talking will sound something like this, “Merde, merde, merde!”

 

The door will open to find me, at the sink, where I had been washing dishes only to discover the faucet was faulty. As a result, the faucet broke off (revealing plumbing tape that would imply this has happened before) and the water was shooting out of the tap across the kitchen – just like in the movies or, in this case, just like on my cable travel show.

 

I would then turn off the water and instruct viewers on how to find a ‘how to fix the kitchen sink’ video on youtube. I would also attempt to clean up the mess as quickly as possible. After watching the video I will make the decision that I have done all I can at this time, pull the kitchen door shut, and return to the front room where I will sit on the futon, turn up the TV, and be comforted by the sound and visuals of pots, pans and functioning faucets. End scene.

Travel shows seem to be quite the trend as of late and, not one to miss out on an opportunity to share my mad travel and acting skills, I’ve decided it might be a good idea to start filming my adventures.

 

My most recent trip would be an amazing first episode and would make Rick Steves, Dhani Jones and Samantha Jones wonder what they’ve been doing in all the places they’ve been going.

 

I’m not one to watch a lot of television, so I actually had to do a little online research (searched ‘travel show cable’) to know about their shows and my supposed competition. The idea to have my own travel show came to me while spending some time (hours) in Meaux, France, watching cooking shows that featured towns and foods in different regions of France. These cooking shows were superb and I thought to myself, “Wow. I sure wish someone was filming how I spend my time in France.” My show, which I think I’ll just call ‘My Travel Show,’ would go something like this:

 

Aerial shot of Meaux  – pan around town (being sure to get the cathedral, pâtisserie, brasserie, pharmacie and cobbler shop); travel with camera, along the river, to Clergy Les Meaux (just the names make it sound so good, so French); zoom in to me standing in the frame of an open French (also very French) door; wearing a robe and house slippers, sipping a cafe espresso (steam from cup a must) and looking out  to what the viewers will assume to be a large open French countryside.

 

As all of this is happening I will be providing a voice-over. “Paris is a must-see when traveling to France. Also a must see are the many small towns and villages scattered throughout the French countryside.”

 

Next shot, I am sitting on a futon with cheetah print blankets, clothes drying rack and a curio cabinet with small cards/souvenirs featuring nude Vegas girls wedged into the glass of the curio, behind me. In the background will be the sound of people cooking and talking in French – very French.

 

“Spending time in these small towns with the locals will give you a true taste of French living,” I will say, take a quick sip, and then add, “Let’s see what’s taking place in the kitchen or, as they say here in France, la cuisine.” I will then look forward and the camera will pan to the door toward the kitchen, continue panning across the room (capturing the plastic containers full of electronic gadgets, luggage that has not yet been put away, and box of CDs) until they get to the TV, where they will zoom in on the French travel/cooking show I’d been watching for the last five hours.

 

“This is how to live like a local,” I’ll say with camera on me. I’ll then kick off my house slippers; wrap up in the cheetah blanket; quickly look around the room and then yell out (to the locals), “Où la télécommande est?” I believe that is French for “Where is the remote?” I”ll see it on make-shift coffee table, grab it, and change the channel until I find the 24-hour music video station. 24-hours of music videos?  “Living like a local! I’m not leaving this room, ever!” At which point the camera can exit the way it came, through the open French door that actually leads out to a large ash tray full of cigarette butts, a shed and neighboring houses.

 

With MiniMe’s birthday upon us she wanted to dine with family at a posh eating establishment – completely bucking our tradition of dining at a family style chain restaurant. “I’d like to go somewhere nice,” she told Oreggano, I’ve Noticed and I. “What do you mean by that? Cream Of Tartar and I love that place. We go there all of the time. Weddings, anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, anniversaries. Need I go on?” Oreggano said. “Yes. Weddings, anniversaries, birthdays,” I’ve Noticed reiterated. Not one to fall for peer or family pressure, MiniMe advised us we would not be going to the “Weddings, anniversaries, birthdays” establishment. She is getting stubborn in her old age.

 

The day after celebrating MiniMe’s birth in a posh eating establishment, I attended a celebration in honor of Live Longer’s birth. This event was appropriately called ‘Cocktails and Karaoke, becuz Birthdays are for A-holes.” Nothing posh about that. Tree and I arrived, fashionably late – because we’re a-holes, to find Live Longer living longer and celebrating fashionably well in a lovely muumuu.

 

The cocktails were divine and while others enjoyed them and played Just Dance, Tree and I retreated to the climbing room for a photo shoot – neon wigs and all. We were in the climbing room for some time when Tree asked, “Are we assholes for being in here this long while the party goes on out there?” “This party IS for assholes,” I reminded him and we continued to celebrate both Live Longer’s birth and our photogenic a-hole selves.

Attire is often a very important consideration. Whether traveling, working, karaoke-ing, lounging or gardening I put great thought into what I might wear.

 

I am not alone. Ice Cream Man is also very keen on proper wardrobe selections. Thus, when MiniMe and I arrived home from Paris, he greeted us at the airport in an incredible fashion: donning acid washed denim (pants and jacket); a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt; a red, white and blue head/sweatband with mullet hair attached; and holding a posterboard sign that read, ‘It is finally 2013. Will you go to prom with this guy?’ I, of course, was surprised (shouldn’t have been based on how many times Sleepless and I have done something similar to him), flattered and impressed. Ice Cream Man clearly knows what to wear, and where, for that matter.

 

Later, as I caught up with Sleepless and Ice Cream Man, he advised us he missed “getting ready to go to work,” now that he is an entrepreneur.  “Maybe you could put on a suit and work at the park tomorrow,” I suggested. “I’m not a writer,” he quickly replied. “Writers work in suits at the park?” I inquired and added, “Looks like I have a suit to buy.”

 

 

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I think ‘Airplane’ should be a movie option on all flights. Being that it isn’t, and never has been, an option any of the times I’ve flown, I end up watching the random movies selected by the airlines. I often find the airlines’ selections interesting because they have to be both entertaining and ‘family friendly,’ per say.

 

As I was watching one movie, rated PG-13 (Parents Strongly Cautioned. Some Material May Be Inappropriate For Children Under 13), and the sex scene ended as quickly as it began, I was reminded of my personal sex life and thought to myself, “I’m a sex scene from a PG-13 movie.” Just like some people appear to have the Photoshop crew with them at all times, I appear to have the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) with me during ‘intimate’ moments and they appear to love the PG-13 rating for these occasions. Movies are rated PG-13 for a variety of reasons, one being ‘more than brief nudity…..but such nudity in a PG-13 rated motion picture generally will not be sexually oriented.’ Welcome to my sex life.

 

There are times, however, when MPAA probably would have rated my intimacy ‘Restricted (R). Children Under 17 Require Accompanying Parent or Adult Guardian,’ due to ‘sexually-oriented nudity;’ like in the movie The Sessions. If you haven’t seen this movie, you should. One, it is quite good. Two, it reminds me of my most recent sexual encounter in which my partner said, “I am like your slave,” and then did nothing while I did all of the work (clearly he does not understand the term ‘slave’) – he literally appeared to be, and ultimately was,  unable to participate/perform accordingly. As a result, our MPAA rating quickly moved from ‘R’ to ‘G,’ for ‘General Audiences,’ definitely not to be confused with g-spot.

In researching Paris transportation options, specifically that during the New Year hours, I learned that the Metro, buses and RER are free – gratis – beginning at 5 PM on December 31 and continuing through noon on January 1 (too bad they didn’t offer this special the day I lost my ticket).

 

MiniMe, every other person in Paris, and I took full advantage of this generous amenity. After spending the first part of the last part of 2012 in one of Paris’ best New Year’s Eve destinations – Moulin Rouge – we hopped on the Metro and headed to Champs-Élysées, another of Paris’ best New Year’s Eve destinations. The Metro was packed and within minutes of getting on MiniMe experienced somebody getting off. “Someone is groping my ass,” she advised me. “Who?” I asked and didn’t have to do much investigating to find the suspect – a male, traveling alone, and smelling the hair of several surrounding female passengers. MiniMe moved away from him and he began to smell my hair. “Non!” I advised him several times, however, he failed to care. “Comment tu dis ‘Don’t smell or touch me’ in français?” I rhetorically asked MiniMe and then said, “Pretty sure it is fuck off. No need for s’il vous plaît.”

 

We finally made it out of the smelly grope zone in time to witness the Eiffel Tower light up like never before (with the exception of every other time it has done so) and, after observing hundreds of public intoxication citations waiting to happen, decided to return to the Red Light District. Just as we entered the Metro station, however, we got the red light on leaving because the police gassed the station – gratis! Thus, we exited the station just as quickly as we entered it.

 

In exchange for the free fare, grope, smell (of hair and in the air) and gas, MiniMe threw up in Paris – also gratis!

When the Parkers discovered the dogs ate their Christmas turkey they did what any other tradtional family would do – they went out for Chinese. When Maverik Midget King realized he didn’t have much food in the house, we ate our Christmas meal at a Japanese buffet. Randy and Ralphie Parker would be proud.

 

A few days later, when we decided to dine out again. We considered several locations and eventually ended up at a Korean barbecue. “It’s kind of interesting that we’ve only gone out to eat twice while in Paris and both restaurants have been Asian,” MiniMe observed. “Parasian,” I advised her.

 

Turns out eating Asian food is quite common in Paris as of late. In looking at Fodor’s travel blog, specifically the 10 Commanments of Paris Dining, it never mentions Asian food. It does, however, advise against being too familiar (an expectation that the staff will be overly friendly – not a problem we experienced); avoiding awkward requests (for example, asking for ‘traditional French’ food at the Japanese buffet; and trust in the sommelier (it’s a buffet, there is no sommelier).

 

When in Rome…..

When it comes to spending time with French friends, there are a couple of constants: beverages (wine for me, s’il vous plaît), candy, peanut butter puffed chips, and pizza; there is a strong chance these ‘constants’ are specific to me and the company I keep. Regardless of the company kept, a true French tradition is to make a toast to all. As we made like Pink and began to raise our glasses, Maverik Midget King tsked us and strongly advised, “In the eyes, in the eyes.” Apparently, just as one must “just look before you say no,” one must also just look “in the eyes” of whom they are toasting.

 

We heeded his advice, if for no other reason than to be nice. As the night went on the conversations in French increased. I did what I do best, at work and in my personal life, looked people in the eye, smiled and looked pretty….or, at this point in the evening, looked pretty drunk. “Do you know why it is so easy for me to be around people who speak a language I don’t understand?” I asked MiniMe, but did not wait for a reply. “Because I zone out, don’t listen, just like when I am among a group of English speakers. I only really listen about 10% of the time. The rest of the time, phoompf (a noise I learned from the French once when I wasn’t 90%ing).”

 

A few glasses of wine later, MiniMe was showing a need for sleep (in her eyes, which were closing). We left the gathering and when we arrived home Maverik Midget King told me, “You look like Courtney Love.” “Why do you say that?” I asked (listening, because he was talking about me). “The eyes,” he replied. “The eyes?” I asked, added a “phoompf,” and, like Courtney Love, passed out.

Maverik Midget King is known for his idioms, otherwise known as translation errors. My two favorites are “Do yourself like at home” and “I have clean shits for you.”

 

The first Fridiom should be, “Make yourself at home,” but I like his version and, historically, usually do. The second Fridiom is of the lodging/hospitality variety – nobody likes to sleep in dirty sheets, or dirty shits.

 

A new Fridiom he has been throwing around like dollar bills in a strip joint is “…is shit.” Feel free to put anything before it. For example, “Paris is shit.” “This food is shit.” “Weather is shit.” “Music is shit.” “My phone is shit.” “Everything is shit.” “Curious about his frequent use of ‘shit,’ MiniMe asked him a question, “Do you say ‘shit’ as much in French as you do in English?” “No, because in French it is ‘merde,’ still shit,” he replied.

 

“Maybe I will open a business called ‘Everything is Shit.’ When people complain I will say, “What do you expect? Everything is shit. Just shit,” he told us with pride. “Your attitude is shit,” I advised and added, “Perfect for your business.”