Pot Calls Kettle Black, Gets Put In Place

It is surprising how many people misuse the word 'ignorant'. For example, the crazy woman who verbally assaulted me yesterday. Let me break it down for you.

We were getting some candles that are in the shape of pies delivered to our office - don't ask, it's ridiculous. Crazy Woman called me to ensure that I would be in the office to accept the delivery. I said I would. A little while later I went to the washroom, which is in the basement of our office. This must have been the exact moment that Crazy came to our door, which was locked. (Have you ever hung around downtown Hamilton? The weirdos will walk right in if you don't lock it.)

I didn't hear the door and when I returned a moment later I listened to the voicemail she had left. She told me that they were going to leave the delivery next door. Fine. No problem. However, then the Crazy forgot or, perhaps, was ignorant of how to turn her phone off and I was treated to a 5 minute message of her complaining about me.

"What an idiot!"
"She's so ignorant! After I set up the appointment... I can't believe her. So ignorant."
"And she was really rude on the phone too! Tsk tsk, so ignorant."

Ok, listen Crazy, that is not the correct use of that word. What is the matter with you? I was not ignorant. I was in the bathroom! If anything, I was ignorant of the fact that you were a lunatic and if I had known would not have taken a bathroom break.

So, naturally, I'm not going to stand for this. No one calls me an idiot or ignorant and gets away with it - especially when it's not true. I called her back and, I have to say, it was the most satisfying phone call. However, now I'm out of a stupid pie candle supplier because I made a big stink about telling her she lost a customer. :) Whatever. How about this: a regular pie or a candle that is not a pie? These are fine options, I think.

Summer survives

Just when you thought fall had its death grip on us all, along comes a beautiful Indian summer day. There is nothing better than lying on a blanket in the park.

I finally switched over my clothes - depressing. Look how colourful and bright my summer clothes are:

Now, here are my dreary winter clothes, save for that one bright pink dress which, let's be honest, I'll never wear:

Sigh. I think the answer might be that I need more clothes. Please ignore the pair of matching dresses there in the middle. There is a slight difference in colour! It was warranted.

Love Fest

**Please note: this post was written while under the influence and may account for the overly emotional and dramatic nature of the post. Drunk blogging is one step worse than drunk texting. But, what the heck? Things you say while drunk are usually how you really feel. **

Have you ever loved and missed somebody so much that when you see them and hug them you wish you could be even closer? Like, you wish you could hug them from the inside. There is someone in my life that I don’t get to see that often anymore and when I think of them and remember our times together I am so wistful and sad, it becomes physically painful. The memories are so wonderful and intense that I can’t take thinking of them sometimes.

I was so lucky to have had them in my life for the two years they were and now it breaks me to reminisce and be reminded that distance and circumstance has taken us from that place. The place where we could finish each other’s thoughts and were so inseparable. The bond we shared was so great and it’s deeply depressing to know that we don’t share that bond anymore.

Every day spent with this person was hilarious. At least once every day, we were laughing to the point of doubling over. He was talented, funny, and we made the best team. Now, we chat every so often but we can’t be in the place we were before unless things change. I miss him so much. It makes me cry when I remember us and everything we went through together.


As LG Fashion Week starts this week, he is on my mind especially.
I like to hope and look forward to a time when we'll be able to be in each other's lives again.

I tried to compile a list of all the hilarious things we used to do and all the ways he made me laugh, but it didn't really translate. In any event, he's one of my favourite people. More than a boss, but of course, way less than a boyfriend - :) Love you Dittmer!

Eggsactly!

The latest billboard to puzzle me – I seem to spend more time than I should considering the messages in billboards – are the egg farmers advertisements. I don’t get this. The same way I didn’t really get the Got Milk ads, although I did enjoy them.

Why are the farmers concerned about increasing people’s awareness about eggs and milk? These are basics – of course we’re going to buy them. And I don’t care what brand I buy, I put no thought into it other than checking to see that the eggs are not cracked. It’s like advertising for the LCBO - of course I'm going to get my booze there. What am I going to do? Make my own?! There are no other options. Same with eggs and milk.

The only things I really need to know about eggs are who is buying the eggs that come in size small and how do I hard boil them without them turning grey? And, to be honest and risk coming off as an ignoramus, if instead of cooking the eggs I kept them warm, would they hatch into chickens? No, really, I don’t know.

It reminds me of this time in grad school when I was living with a bunch of strangers and I kept hearing things in the fridge. I was convinced it was a hatching chicken and made my roommate investigate with me to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Turns out I was and we didn’t really speak much after that.

Important Potato Chip Announcement

I’m not sure if you all are aware of this, but I feel it is my duty as blogging citizen to tell you that:
Sour Cream & Bacon flavoured chips are back!!!!

I don’t where they have been, but I haven’t been able to find them for at least 3 years. Maybe 4. I’ve been tricked by Ruffles several times and mistakenly bought Hot Wing flavor and Au Gratin flavor. Similar packaging, very different chemical taste.

Sure, I don’t know how they make the flavor, but I don’t want to know. And if I really think about it, I’m not sure they taste like bacon or sour cream. But they are scrumptious. Look into it.
That is all.

More online dating blahs

I have been mildly perusing the online dating site that I am a member of (I feel the more times I admit it out loud, the easier it will be to accept) and while there seems to be some potential I’ve been too busy to actually pursue them (i.e. email them and ask if they want to find out how awesome I am). Instead, I only have time to check the barrage of weird-o emails I receive.

This one guy who “checked” me out really made me laugh. All day. Still, even now. But I’m sure he wasn’t intending to crack me up. I looked at his profile and found that his interests were listed as:
- Philosophy
- Electronica
- Dreams
- Paradoxes
- Ideas
- Noam Chomsky
- Quantum Theory
- Vegetarianism
- Gestalt
- Meditation

Hilarious. He wasn’t kidding around either. I don’t think I could have created a list of interests further from my own. If you know me at all and aren’t cracking a smile thinking of how badly matched we would be… I’ll admit, I had to look up gestalt and I still don’t really know what it is – something German. Paradoxes? Are you kidding me? I’m sure there’s a really witty way to make fun of this using a paradox, but it’s really late and I’d rather go to bed.

Another guy had a picture of his back which was emblazoned with a tattoo. Strike #1 – he has a picture of his back which was emblazoned with a tattoo on his profile. Strike #2 – it said “Whatever your past has been, your future is spotless”. So either this guy is a convict or he’s just really “deep”. Either way: DELETE. Who puts needlepoint philosophy in a tattoo? Or prison graffiti philosophy? I would prefer a butterfly on his ankle or a tramp stamp.

Perhaps, it would be helpful for these guys if I prepared a list of things that really turn girls off, when it comes to online profiles. The following are things I have read/seen lately and that should be avoided:

- Guys who say “I’m back to the site”. Quite a few guys say this. I’m not sure why anyone would want to advertise this. It basically means that you probably left to date some chick and it didn’t work out. Boasting failure is not great. And also, it implies that any of us girls have any idea who you are or care at all that you’ve returned. Nobody cares. Trust me.

- Do not mention your vasectomy or any surgery, illness or disease you may have. Full disclosure is not sexy.

- Do not post pictures of your car, motorcycle or you in a flexing pose. Avoid self portraits in a mirror as well. Don't you have any friends who can take a picture for you? Similarly, to the guys who are posting pictures of them in a wedding: we see through this. You’re probably thinking: “Hmm, if I show them a picture of me in a tux beside someone who is getting married, they’ll think I’m marriage material and girls always swoon for a tux.” I’m thinking: “Forced, man. It’s forced.” But, sadly, the tux part is true.

- Attention: I know what N/A means under level of education. Do you not remember that I filled out the same form for my profile? I know N/A means high school or less. Why not lie here, guy? Shallow or not, I’m not going to get excited about someone who only completed high school. That’s not to say there aren’t great guys like that, but with online dating, it’s all about the easily digestable stats. I've deleted guys for less.

- Do not post a picture of you wearing a sleeveless tee. To expand, do not ever wear a sleeveless tee.

Thank goodness I only have to put up with this for a few more months (according to the terms of the bet I lost with my friend). However, whatever will I blog about after that? Uh oh.

I am the Barefoot Contessa

I apologize for not blogging as often as I would like. Work has been a little hectic lately – I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for November to arrive.

We’ve been doing some model homes lately for a local builder and it’s been tying up lots of time. Do you have any idea how much work it is to fill 5 empty homes to make them look like they’ve been lived in? Take stock of the room you’re in right now (if you’re at home) – how many things are there in there? 50? 60? Now multiply that by 60 rooms and limit your time to two weeks. Argh.

It’s all turned out really well though, enough to get us in the newspaper. Well, the Homes section, which no one really reads – at least I don’t. I came to the opening after a week of 18 hour days just to show my face and grab a free donut again. However, there were other plans for me. The next thing I know, I’m in the ribbon cutting, doing web interviews and posing for photos with our team and the CEOs of the building company. I was not at all prepared for this.

On 4 hours sleep and zero minutes of shower, I showed up with crazy hair that I had wrangled into a ponytail. Luckily my outfit was okay, but if you look closely, I’m wearing dark jeans. My saving grace, or so I thought, was my awesome pair of heels.

Then we’re asked to pose in the houses and because they’re models, everyone is asked to remove their shoes. Since it is October, everyone is wearing socks. Except for me, because my shoes were peep toe wedges and I felt style was more important than warmth on that cold day.

Here is one of the pictures that is in the Hamilton Spectator. I look ridiculous. Seriously, am I really sitting next to the CEO with barefeet? In the next photo I put my shoes on (and promptly got mud on the carpet) and managed to look a little more professional. I think it’s a general rule to not be found barefoot near any CEO of any kind.At the office, I’m now referred to as Barefoot Contessa. Although I feign embarrassment, I secretly love this.

There's a reason 13 is a bad number

Last night, I attended a bat mitzvah rehearsal, which, yes, is as boring as it sounds. Especially for someone who is neither Jewish, part of the family or used to being surrounded by so much orange carpeting. Have you been in a synagogue recently?

As I watched the girl have her photograph taken, I wished I could tell her how everything will turn out. She was in a seemingly surly mood and only flashed a smile a moment before the camera’s flash. Being 13, she was obviously uncomfortable in her own skin, easily miserable and prone to sulky drama. I remember this. It was the worst.

I wish I could tell her that yes, right now is when you will look and feel the most unattractive in your entire life. Gone are the days of being a cute child and you haven’t grown into the beauty or at least confidence of adulthood. You will always look back at these photos and cringe. I too was an awkward pre-teen. So were Gisele Bundchen, Katie Holmes and Carolina Herrera, the most elegant looking woman on earth. You will grow out of this.

For me, the technology of my youth didn’t help my case. My parents got a video camera right around my 12th birthday. My younger brothers were at the adorable ages of 5 and 9. There are no worse years to have captured on film than those from 12-17. Who am I kidding? 20. So whenever we have a family movie night or reminisce over old videos, my brothers are sickeningly cute while I am the gangly, awkward (both socially and physically) grasshopper of a pre-teen trying to get attention. The camera did not love me. I shudder as I think of it. Where was the video camera when I was the world’s most beautiful child? No, really. I was.

This photo pretty much sums me up in 8th grade:

New glasses that I thought were awesome. They took up half my face.
Bangs. Oh, the bangs.
Crazy outfit that I also thought was awesome. I’m pretty sure my peers were doing the whole ‘one-shoulder’ overall look, but I am a purist.
My eyes closed, which indicates my awkwardness, as does my pose. I’m probably pretty nervous here. This ended up going on the bulletin board in my classroom.
You can’t see it, but I have ‘clear’ braces on as well. Luckily my parents didn’t make me wear the headgear to school. Actually, that doesn’t sound right. Perhaps they did but I blocked it out. Also not pictured, my legs that were not unlike the railing I’m leaning against and clear jelly shoes.
If this isn’t Winnie Cooper, I don’t know who is.

Hump Day Round-up

Weird week so far.

Monday:
Put on one of my many fall coats - by far the favourites in my coat collection - and felt some money in the pocket. I usually like to surprise myself by putting $20 in coat pockets at the end of each season to get when I wear them again. It's like a mini lottery! Hurrah!

However, Spring Winnie Cooper played a cruel joke on Fall Winnie Cooper for instead of a $20 bill, it was a bank receipt from a time when I had a lot more money. Or some money. Such a slap in the face. To get back at Spring Winnie Cooper, I think I'll put a lump of coal or a library due date receipt in the pocket.

Tuesday:
My doctor has recommended that I get 4 consecutive weekly B12 shots. Everyone I tell this to has many questions and wonders why he would suggest this. To be honest, I'm the naive patient here, but I really trust my doctor. He's got a South African accent - it's very assuring. Also, as much as I hate needles, this seems a lot more convenient and cheaper than eating properly.

I got my first shot and was told that these shots would give me increased energy. I consider myself a fairly energetic person, not often plagued by fatigue (except for Monday night when I slept 12 hours - hmmm). But just imagine me after these 4 shots! I'm going to be a superhuman - pumped up full of insatiable energy! What will I do with it all? I think I'll rearrange my photo albums. Or start walking the escarpment stairs. Or both!

The funny part about these shots is that my friend's cat is currently pretty ill and the vet is trying all sorts of remedies to bring Kobi back to full health. One thing the vet has recommended - is 4 consecutive weekly B12 shots! Ummm....

Wednesday:
I just stepped out of my office to go to the bank and was accosted by two smartly dressed men shilling for some financial company. They just saw me leave my current place of employment but still had the gall to try and recruit me for whatever it is they do. It felt bad but really easy to fake number this guy. On the street. In the middle of the day. My standard fake works anywhere, I guess.

What a deal!

This just makes me smile. At least it's honest!

Mum's the word

The other day the most unsettling thing happened - my mother discovered my online dating profile. Oh, before I start this awful story, I should warn my readers that because the next two weeks are filled solely with work and sleeping, I expect the majority of my blog posts to be about online dating. I know, it could get boring, but I don't have time to have an actual life this week. Blerg.

Ok, so my mother calls after reading this blog and says she is on Lavalife and wants to read my profile. She is prepared to create a profile for herself if that's what it takes to log on. Once I threatened to tell my dad that she is entering the world of online dating, she backed down. Then she just switched to another site and finds my profile quite easily.

What follows is an (almost) exact transcript of our conversation. I only allowed it to continue because I was at my friend Tracy's house and it was really cracking us up.

- Thin? Melissa, why didn't you put 'slender'? That sounds much more appealing. Can you put 'slender'? - No, Mother, it is selected from a drop down menu. No.

- Are you really 5'9"? Are you sure?

- Can you lie about your age? Do people do that? - *gasp* Mother! What was all the Happy Birthday nonsense a few weeks ago then!?

- Why didn't you put that you are reflective? I think you're very reflective. Are you listening to me?

- What is DIY?

- Why is there a pair of virtual panties attached to your profile? DID YOU PUT THAT??? What do you mean someone sent them to you? Who would do such a thing? It's just vulgar. Well, I never...

- You'd better tell me when you go on these dates in case something happens - we should always know where you are at all times. By the way, where are you right now? Who's laughing with you? Is that Tracy? How are her parents doing?

- It says one of your interests is throwing dinner parties - that sounds a little wild, don't you think?

- Can people take your picture and put your head on *whispers this part* nude bodies? Would someone do that? Yes?? They can? Oh, Melissa, I don't know about this.

- What about drugs Melissa? - I don't know Mom, what about drugs? - Well, why didn't you select no to drugs?

- Why are there pictures of other girls at the top of your profile? - They're ads. - Well, they look very loose, those girls. You don't want them associated with your profile.

And, that, dear readers, is the moment I lost the small scraps of interest I had in online dating. :)

Last Hurrah Garage Sale!

Last Saturday was one of my favourite days of the year. Every year about this time it is the United Way garage sale at Mohawk College - it is the BEST. No, seriously, the BEST. The posse and I got up early and all scored amazing things. Dru and I went in together to purchase the most amazing dollhouse. I can't really recall why we decided to share it, but we're working out a custody arrangement. I can visit on weekends and I get every other holiday. My only concern is that her child will think it's a toy and ruin it. Chet, it is NOT a toy!


Once you see this dollhouse in person you will know why it's so special. It's from the 1960s and came with a whole box full of miniature, impeccable furniture. So detailed and beautiful. The house has French doors, a working light, hardwood floors, balcony - this is almost more than my real house has!


The furniture is to die for - cast iron patio set, four poster bed, armoire with hangers, desk with newspapers, bowls of fruit, full kitchen. It's amazing. I didn't know I was still such a dollhouse person, but I just had to have it. We may have pushed some children aside in our pursuit.


I haven't been so excited since my 7th birthday when my dad presented me with my very own massive dollhouse (albeit not finished).

We used to go to this specialty shop to get the amazing furniture. It's currently finished and in my parents' attic, but I think I'd like to get it out and on display.


I didn't think I was such a girly girl, but I'm pretty sure I was squealing while I pawed through the box of furniture. I can't wait to play with it. Dru, can I come over and play?


These pictures don't do it justice. I really need to get a new camera.

My driveway is STEEP!

All summer I wanted to try out my "new" roller skates that I bought a year ago and on Sunday, what I expect to be one of the last nice days, I decided I had better hop to it. This is really something that should have been attempted with a friend.

This is me contemplating which friend I should call: (btw, those are my fingers, not breakfast sausages)

Proximity was key as I was losing the light, but closest friend wasn't home and I don't think my tenants really want to be that kind of neighbour. So, I soldiered on myself.

I made it once around the car grasping to windshield wipers, door handles, antenna. Then I fell.

And that was the end of the rollerskates. Back to the bottom of the closet with my ice skates (which I actually use) and skipping rope (which I only used one summer in Ottawa and only because I was friends with a really athletic, exercise-y girl).

Boooo....

Goodbye Summer

Lovely way to spend one of the last warm days of summer...reading on the grass in the park. Sure, there was a couple sucking face a few metres away, but I was able to drown it out with Ray Charles and The Beautiful South. All I needed was a glass of lemonade and it would be perfection. And a sandwich. With bacon. Then, perfection.

Ta-Da!

It's taken all summer, but I have finally given my house's front a facelift. Increased the curb appeal, if you will.


I find that when I'm tackling a project, I just want to jump right in and get it done. I do NOT want to listen attentively to the Home Depot expert about how to strip the chipping paint properly or to sand everything down beforehand. No, no, no. What I want to do is maybe give the porch a sweep and then start throwing paint around. Sure, it may not last into October, but it was much quicker than the Home Depot way. Besides, have you ever peeled paint before? It's the worst of the worst.


I added my wicker, some plants, the runner carpet last week, cast iron urn and the nod to patriotism. Just like small town....Canada.


Before - 3 or 4 different colours going on


After: Ok, so it might just be a subtle change to you, but it's monumental to me. I love driving in my driveway now and it's definitely in the top 40% of nice houses on the street. 'Fo 'sho.

Hmmm, it seems that the tree has gotten smaller? The front porch has become a welcoming place for all the neighbourhood wildlife. Sadly, this guy didn't make it. I didn't know what to do with it so I left it. The next morning it was gone. Those cats are evil.

Randomness

I’m thinking of getting driving signs made up (you know, with my own Sharpie) that say “You’re on the highway. Drive like it!” Or another that says “I think you owe me a thank you wave”. Sort of like flash cards. I think it would take a lot of the stress out of it. No more yelling, just flash the card and be on your way. This is not the worst idea I’ve ever had. Someone would tell you that my worst idea was either:

1) An air mattress for drunken nights that is filled with water (I guess a waterbed, essentially) but that has a straw near your head that you can drink from. No more having to stumble to the bathroom for dire rehydration. Just roll over and take a sip. Manufacturer warning – if you are really thirsty, I mean, REALLY thirsty, you may experience a slow sinking feeling.

2) A cab service that you subscribe to so that when everyone is leaving the club district at 2am on a Saturday night you don’t have to scour the streets in vain for a ride. You simply call the hotline and they will tell you where the cabs are ‘hidden’ nearby. No one else will know. You just walk a street over or something and jump in – flashing your membership card, of course. They could even be unmarked cars!

As you may be able to tell I came up with these ideas during the throes of my clubbing and partying phase and I may or may not have been drunk when they were concocted. However, I think they both have merit. Suck it, naysayers. You can walk home!
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There is a bite in the air. Fall is my favourite season – it’s so crisp and the clothes are the absolute best. How I can tell fall is coming:
- when I get in my car in the mornings, I switch the temperature gauge to warm
- I wear a blanket while watching TV (this could be because I refuse to put my heat on until I’m legally required to for my tenants. I think it’s sometime in October, however, with my track record, I should really confirm this.)
- I wear socks to bed. I know, it’s sexy.
- I don’t have to mow my lawn every week!
- I get to start wearing scarves again – my absolute favourite accessory
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Did you know there is now a feature on Google mail that allows you to retract a sent email within 30 seconds? This would have been really, really helpful during my early twenties. Or last week.

Since I have a tendency to blurt out whatever I’m saying sometimes and inadvertently hurt people’s feelings, I’ve taken to saying things over in my head before I utter them. Only in certain situations and to be honest, it’s a big waste of time. Can I just say a disclaimer like “I’m always sorry and am always joking” and leave it at that? No? Ok, fine.

Online and Hating It

There’s no pretty way to say it. I have joined the legions of singletons and entered the world of online dating. Initially forced upon me by a lost bet with a friend and a creeping boredom due to culling the herd of randoms in my life, online dating was something I’ve always resisted. To me, despite what anyone says and despite all the success stories, it seems like a failure – an inability to meet someone or like someone that you meet in real life. I don’t like it. And although I’m trying to go into it with an open mind, I still don’t like it.

First there is the profile creation – the key to any sort of success here. Did you guys know that 95% of people consider working out to be a major hobby? Or that everyone likes movies, music and sports? Oh, and also, NO ONE does drugs. There is a template to fill out and then space for your own words. Having to select my hobbies and interests from a drop down menu really sucks. There isn’t even an ‘Other’ or ‘Complaining on my Blog’ option!

So, I have to review my life and pick out the things that will make me sound interesting and exciting. I haven’t lied at all, but I also didn’t say that some days I like to read magazines, watch TV or go shopping. These activities sound like I’m stupid, lazy and materialistic. Give me a break. Trying to sum myself up in a paragraph is lunacy. I might have tried to get in there that I’m looking for a guy who still knows how to write in complete sentences. From some of the responses I’ve received, I don’t think many of these guys are able to even read complete sentences.

Then there’s the part where you can list your perfect first date. Ugh. Half the profiles I read want to go for a walk. The other half want to go for coffee. Now, in actuality, these are fine, but give me something a little more fun. I guess that’s the thing about online – if I met a guy in real life, it would be more likely that we could have fun first date as chemistry has already been established. What these walks and coffees are really for is to suss out if we are at all attracted to each other. Really, they could last 5 minutes and it would be so much easier. I guess this is the premise behind speed dating…but I think I’m more of an acquired taste.

So, fine. I have a profile. I managed to select a couple pictures – most of which have me wearing a party hat, oddly enough. I am online. Not so much online dating, but it’s only been a week. Mostly so far, I’ve been doing defence. I log on and am bombarded by randoms messaging me, emailing me, ‘smiling’ at me (*roll eyes*) and it takes so much time to read their message, then look at their picture, then read their profile and decide if I want to write them back. Usually I don’t. Delete. Delete. Delete.

And that’s another thing – if you’re going to message me (and v.v. – I hold myself to these same rules) try to make it funny or relevant or at least seem like you’ve read my profile. The following openers are not appreciated:

- Hello
- Your pic is awesome – wat u up to
- :)
- “ih” then followed by another message where they spelled it correctly “hi”
- Hi beautiful

Seriously. Give me something I can work with. Some guys at least made a joke about my screen name or mentioned something I said in my profile. Make fun of me! Make me smile! Even be cheesy! I don’t care – just don’t be dull. If ever you can go out on a limb and be something it’s online. “Hi” is the worst.

Certain friends think I’m being too picky. But I know what I want and I know the type of person I deserve. I know how great I am and why would I settle for a mediocre conversation with someone I’m not attracted to and who can’t spell or make me laugh? Just so I can prove I’m “out there” giving it my all? Lame-o. I know what I like and who I like and I message and respond to those people only. The others I will recount here for you for the laughs.

- 42 year old man who looks 63 emailed me an began “Hello dear”
- User name – LionChili, Pounder7, Here Comes The Warrior
- Someone who suggested an eating contest as a first date – actually that one was pretty funny
- Guy who puts the lamest quote in his profile “Dance like no one is watching, love like you've never been hurt, live like there's no tomorrow" - how about 'Update your profile like no one will respond"?

- Guy who listed “building character” as a hobby
- So many guys love to “work hard and play harder”

I hate this.

Paris: The Food

Ok, as expected, this was the best part. I decided to photograph everything I ate, but most times I dove in and forgot. However, I didn't end up eating as much as I wanted to. If ever I were to take up bulimia, Paris is the place. So much delicious food, not enough hunger.

I know I shouldn't even mention airplane food in the same breath as Paris food, but seriously, what are they doing up there? I mistakenly ordered the beef because I have made a personal vow to never order chicken from a menu as it's usually the most deathly boring option.

Instant regret. And, if judging by this picture, jaundice.
Ok, into Paris. I found this city to be the land of sandwiches - heavenly. If I had to pick my last meal, it would be, hands down, a sandwich. On any street, at any time you could get a sandwich. On fresh baguette with great cheese - so simple, yet so phenomenal. They don't call Paris the City of Love for nothing. Or wait, is it City of Light? Well, these sandwiches lit up my life.

This bakery was right around the corner and had the most amazing macarons. I spent much time here.

This was one of our dinner meals and it is all so simple: pork with a mustard sauce, potatoes and salad, but every element was the best I've ever tasted. The best pork. The best potatoes. I even ate the salad! The French just know how to do it. I'm still thinking about that meal.

Crêpes. They are everywhere and are fun to watch being made. Everyone kept telling me to try them with Nutella and every stand had huge vats of the stuff. I really don't see the appeal. I don't like Nutella - not even in France. Meh.

This was one of my last meals and I ordered a croque madame - which is the croque monsieur with the addition of the egg. I was mostly pleased that I ordered everything on the table in French. Including a new fork because I dropped mine. In fact, by the end of my time there I was speaking solely in French. Poorly, by solely. It was really fun. Turns out, OAC French will come rushing back.

On my last night I put on a pretty dress - and a blazer and scarf because it was frickin' freezing - and went to one of the last places on my list. Hemingway Bar in the Hotel Ritz. Somehow I still had plenty of money left and I knew it was going to be an expensive evening but I was sick of walking around on flat feet with a boyish messenger bag.

So, I spent the evening there conversing with other patrons, the friendly and knowledgeable bartender and eventually a couple my age from New York. Each cocktail was 30 Euro. I had 2. This is an enormous amount of money to me back home - I could buy approximately 4 chairs at a thrift shop to recover, groceries for a couple weeks and a whole outfit at Joe Fresh, including a coat. But I was in Paris and had a laissez faire attitude. If the couple and I weren't going to flit off to the next bar, I would have had a third cocktail. It was fun.Of all the food I ate, something didn't agree with me on my last morning. Since I don't yet know how to say "over-hard", I think it was the eggs. It was pretty embarrassing and technically difficult to ask the cab driver to pull over on the side of the French highway so that I could be sick. He pitifully handed me a tissue when I got back in as I profusely said, "Je suis desoleé" which I hope means, "I'm so sorry! And did you stop the meter?" After that it was the worst travel day ever.

I got stuck beside this lovey dovey couple who were about 19. They kept saying really annoying things that were made worse by my sickness. Like, pausing their movie to debate the merits and "message" of Up In The Air with George Clooney. Or, worrying that their wool sweaters would be considered animal product on their customs form. They were the worst. But they were so wrapped up in themselves the dude didn't seem to notice that I borrowed his pillow and snatched his pretzels. Take that, Love!

Ok, I didn't intend to end this post about food with a story about vomiting and nauseating love, but whaddaya gonna do?

Paris: The Company

I have not travelled with my brothers before without my parents. They were doing the whole Europe thing and we crossed paths in Paris. They bunked with me and luckily were nice enough to not make me take a turn on the floor. It was great to see them there, especially Jaret who I haven't seen since May as he is deployed overseas.

We were adults. No kicking the back of the seat in a cross Canada road trip. No fighting over who gets the sugar cereal. No hitting. It was nice. We talked about our lives, the future, where to get the best wireless on the block - les Starbucks, as it turned out.

Every time I tried to get a picture with the three of us for posterity and parentals they always looked like they weren't even with me. Like this shot:

My face shows that I can tell they're not paying attention.

I said that it looked like they were menacing weirdos that were trying to pick-pocket me and smarten up! So, in the next one, they pretended to do just that. However, I ended up missing 20 Euro.....

I can't really recall what he looks like without a weird face. And, yes, we took a tour bus. Just for 2 stops and shut up, it was free. We treated it like a cab with an added rain bonus.
The next generation....

Paris: The Sights

I kept telling people I wasn't going to make a big list of what I wanted to do/see while there because I had such a short time that I didn't want to feel the pressure. Even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Me not making a huge list is like me not bringing 6 pairs of shoes for 4 days (and YES, I wore each pair!), or me not pretending to be an anonymous spy in the airport (which you can only do when you travel alone - try it, it's fun), or me not finding a favourite bakery near my hotel within 20 minutes of check-in.

I even made a list for writing this post.

From the list, I pretty much hit everything, mostly because I didn't put the Louvre on there so I didn't have to waste an entire day waiting in the entry line-up. But of all the touristy, arty things I saw, I think I enjoyed the architecture the most. Every other picture was of random ordinary buildings. They're so beautiful.

Joe Blow French gets to work and live in these buildings! Well, I presume so anyway. We just don't get these here.

I liked how the city was really accessible and it was easy to walk to everything, criss-crossing over the Seine. And yes, like everyone kept saying, the Metro was pretty easy to understand. I only went in the wrong direction once and managed to make it from the airport unscathed. I love the gag where you can ride the subway for free because "I'm not from here! I didn't know I couldn't just walk through that gate! Je ne comprende pas! Bibliotheque!" This also works well in NYC. Well, not so much the French part unless you pretend you're a Quebecois.

Things I saw that weren't in the guidebooks:

- how they keep those perfect topiary trees in the Jardin de Tuileries so perfectly round - it's a wooden form thing that one guy holds while the other guy cuts

- a man kick the foot of a homeless woman who was sitting in the street cradling her child. He first kicked her with his cane, then his own foot and muttered something in French. Likely something rude.

- advertisement on the subway for a course that will teach you English. But not any regular English - Wall Street English! To be honest, this is probably a course I could use. Does anyone know what a 401K is?

Obviously, I saw these:

I really have to come up with a better tourist pose. To be fair though, I was in the middle of the crazy road on a median not much wider than my smile here and I was teetering. From the wine.

You can tell I only have one 'travel' bag that I wore everywhere. It looks like it could really be holding my bow and arrows behind me. Even though I tried to seem cool, I was constantly checking to see if I'd been pick-pursed. Aha! Foiled again, crime!