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Wednesday, November 5, 2008

A piece like “Winter Skin Tips” doesn’t just happen again

Alors. Yeah, so there you go; proof of blog theory:

exciting and continuous happenings in one’s recent life=infrequent and dull posts^2

I’ve just not had time to post, what with all the apple-tart-eating and girly-talk to be had as of late during this vacances de Toussaint. Plus I had to plan my holla-ween disguisement. That took some time.
Since I am the lone foreigner in St. Pol de Leon, (of which I was reminded yet again today after being pursued on the sidewalk in an awkward, shuffly, slow-speed chase by an old Frenchman who had seen my photo and accompanying article in Le Telegramme and wanted to verify my identity) the assistants in Morlaix were kind enough to take me in on various occasions this vacation. (I even got my own room. Quelle classe.)

Highlights of Toussaint include:

-a valiant effort by the assistants to celebrate Halloween despite frigid, dickensian weather, a nearly empty pub which had posted a sign in its window announcing an—evidently—non -existent costume contest (and first prize bottle of champagne), and the fact that Halloween is just not actually a holiday in France.

-happening upon legitimately interesting bar with good music and enough costumed Frenchies to act as balm to wounds of the two Americans who had been forced to support indignity of wandering from bar to bar earlier in the evening, nervously wondering if they were the only adults in Morlaix wearing costumes and also being denied this aforementioned bottle of champagne. (even though we clearly were the winners by default, as there were no other entrants to competition. Or patrons in bar, for that matter. )

-Lunch on Saturday with an English woman and her French husband who insisted on directing all his queries regarding Indian culture and fauna to assistante from Trinidad, and who was, as a result, repeatedly reminded by his wife that ‘yeah, again, she’s not actually from India.” The couple lived in an old farmhouse that had been used to billet German officers during the war. The house had marks on the stairs left by badly-raised Germans who did not think it necessary to remove their heavy boots while indoors.

-Lots and lots of dialogue about the books people should be reading, the phrases you can employ to fool French people into thinking you speak their language well, and how to fix the world.

And finally, I’m nervous about today's results. I hardly start researching the election on the internet before I have to switch it off and go take deep breaths into a paper bag.

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