He's back and he's more biblical looking than ever...

You know how your little brother spends years trying to grow out a little peach fuzz? Well, SEND HIM TO TANZANIA. It appears they put facial hair fertilizer in the food.

This would NEVER happen in a Paris metro.

Me: So yeah, Goldie was telling me all about that article, about why married men cheat on their wives.
Anne: Well, there are lots of married women who cheat on their husbands too.
Random man (who just got on the subway with his wife and daughter): Oh no! How can you girls be worried about this at your age? Are you talking about that article in New York magazine?
Me: Yes! So, you read it?
Man: Let me tell you something. The writer makes some argument about the biology behind it, which, I don't know, maybe part of that's true. But the whole argument about how men cheat on their wives because their sex lives are boring... I mean, come on.
Man's wife: The problem is that no one today realizes how much work goes into a marriage. It's like a job!
Man's daughter: You can believe them- they've been happily married for 35 years.
Man: That's true, very happily married... do you want to see a picture of my girlfriend?
Everyone laughs. Anne has to leave the subway to transfer, but I remain standing and the family sits down. Then, when they go to leave, the man touches my arm.
Man: You stay strong, ok? You're going to meet your Mr. Right.


It's strangely comforting that the very things I worry about are brought up by random strangers in the subway. All the time.

Nation-wide tour starting next week!

Goldie was listening to Ingrid Michaelson a few minutes ago in her room; she recently discovered the amazingness that is that girl and her songs. And so I'm sitting here at the kitchen table eating watermelon (a new obsession) and I put some Ingrid on and instantly it's last July and I'm playing her CD every. freaking. car. ride. all summer.

You know how certain CDs or songs are marked with a time or a person of your life? Well Ingrid Michaelson reminds me of summer and Yoga and Eat, Pray, Love and sun roofs and angst-filled nights when I was questioning lots of recent decisions. In those days, words like "I want to crawl back inside my mother's womb" were as comforting as mantras, and I held onto that underlying beat for dear life just to get through August.

I must have told you all this before, but this time I'm not kidding: GO. LISTEN. NOW.

No one has a private jet when you need one...

I'm itchy to leave and go somewhere. Memorial Day weekend is staring me in the face, taunting me as my only day off in the near future.

I just spent an hour looking at last minute flights to Florida (good god, how I hate the state of Florida, but ANYTHING to get some sun...). Thanks to the powers that be in today's world, even flights to craptastic FL are $500. I keep shortening the search (how far up does the sun come? South Carolina? Virginia? D.C.? Can't I just open up a lawn chair on the White House lawn for a 3-day weekend?). Nothing appealing, nothing for the cash I'm willing to throw at it.

New issue of NIFW came out last week- check it. My music video with subtitles is something you Frenchies might appreciate.

True that, Dave. True that.

"Yo dude, dating sucks. If I ever date again, I'm never going to do it sober."

What I was afraid of.

Last week I woke up one morning, heart pounding, tangled up, nightmare cliche. I dreamed that I'd gone back to Paris and called a bunch of friends to let them know I had arrived safely, but none of them were around. I got directions to the city and didn't recognize the way to get there. I was lost in Paris and Paris was lost to me.

I've been perpetually trying to go back for 10 days for the past six months, though changing jobs hasn't helped with the vacation time situation. Tonight I spent a few hours walking around Central Park with Fanny after work... I can feel that my language is slower and my vocab is slipping.

It's a freaking nightmare.

You guys out there who know or knew a language- how do you do it? How do you hold onto it? Advice for the linguistic-weary is welcome.

Update from the African Siblings

I spend a lot of time explaining where my other DNA matches are in the world and what they're doing. Some of you ask about them; often I have vague answers like "she's helping to teach a village about AIDS" or "he's smelling lion's breath!" So, an update:


Who: Kate

Where: Togo

What the F is she doing there?: Peace Corps, finishes this winter

Update: I finally spoke with Kate on the phone this weekend and she seems to be much happier now that she's in Lome (the capital of Togo). She spent her first year out in a rural village and enjoyed the people but was pretty frustrated with the *work* portion of her assignment. She's now working for an organization in Lome, where she helps with the Peace Corps volunteer grant application process. To give you an idea of a typical day in Togo- she went out with friends and partied until very late one night last week. And then another night last week she woke up with a scorpion in her bed. Awesome!

---------------------------------------

Who: Steve-o

Where: Tanzania/Mount Kilimanjaro

What the F is he doing there?: Semester abroad, junior year; hiking Kilimanjaro this week because "yay, classes are finished!" Yes, I realize most other juniors celebrate by drinking beer.

Update: Steve comes home on Saturday. He spent three months studying large animals and the culture of Tanzania; he learned some Swahili and once he smelled some lion's breath on a safari. He will have a TRUCKLOAD of photos to share and that means that I get to SEE the view from the summit of Kili (as he so lovingly calls it) without actually climbing the damn thing. Also- I've spoken to him a couple of times on the phone since he left in February and every time he ends the conversation with "Wait, Jenny- ARE THERE NEW EPISODES OF THE OFFICE AND ARE THEY HILARIOUS?!" At least he has his priorities in check.