I can see Russia from my house!

OK not really, but the Jardin d'Acclimation had a Russian festival going on when Julien and I went a while back to hit up the driving range (pun not originally intended, but now that I noticed it, totally leaving it). For the record, my golfing skills are subpar, but it's only because I feel like a moron when I assume the position ... Just as soon as I get rid of my last vestiges of self-respect I'll be a pro. Can't be long now :)

Then Julien's aunt and uncle were able to smuggle us into the classy party in the Tuileries for some car tour around France that began the next morning. For you, Daddy, is a 1966 Mustang. I know your dream car is a Mustang, but I was iffy on the year. There were a few others ... a bajillion Ferraris and who knows what else.

I recognized them mostly as a)Former Barbie cars or b) Former Matchbox cars, and thus was disappointed when they didn't have glittery pink paint (although in our house, Barbie's Ferrari was red, her Corvette was pink, her Jeep was yellow, her VW bug convertible was pink and her RV was pink).

Interception!

Now I'm the mean teacher that confiscates notes. But seriously, kids these days lack finesse. I was passing short stories with my friends in elementary/middle school, and we never got caught.

They're talking about how a classmate gets on their nerves. The other side says 'Does he annoy you? Circle yes or no.' Even their NOTES are multiple choice!

YESS' WE CAN!

Now they're just messing with me.

Sorry France.

This is why people do illegal things.

Nancy Drew didn't have the internet at her disposal ...

MYSTERY SOLVED (already?!)!!!

Thanks to the help of my friend Dave who pointed out that the little characters that mystified me are from an old arcade game called Space Invaders, from the 80s.

THEN, from the culture portion of the article (the French wiki version), I learned that a street artist (anonymous, of course) 'invades' cities the world over. He's known as Invader. Or, I just realized there's an English version.

The gist is that he sets up in a city, and decides strategically where he's going to put the little characters (often with a significance, for example, the bird's eye view of the locations forms another space invader character, etc.). It's awesome. So now I need to get a map and go on a quest for the others.

Mystery solved. The quest, however, is incomplete.

A 'secular miracle of communication?'

During my canal-side wanderings, I happened to notice this Pacman-like character tiled (sneakily) onto a municipal building. I became curious ...

Today, walking near Rue Buci with Bastien, I noticed another.

If you've ever read The Crying of Lot 49, you might be able to see where this is taking me. In the book, which is rife with references and things that remind you of other things that you can't quite place, but somehow leave you with an enduring sense of almost-comprehension, the main character keeps coming across symbols and references to a secret society. I don't want to give anything away, so you should just read the book (it's one of my favorites).

Anyway, I'm positive there's a meaning or a game or some sort of reason for these little things all over the city, and I'm determined to find more and figure it out. A mystery!

April in Paris.

Friday afternoon I went to lunch with my friend Nadia. We went by the canal (St Martin) to a restaurant called Chez Prune. Quite tasty.

Right facing our table outside was this mailbox, marked 1984. Earlier that morning, a podcast I was listening to referenced Room 101. Just one of those reference-filled days.

Fun graffiti (is it?) along one of the locks on the canal. In mirror fragments. No idea what it says though.

More of the lock mechanism. Does this not look like something out of that computer game Myst from the 90s?! Somehow if you activate all of the tiles in the right way I'm sure this opens up and reveals a path to the center of Earth. Or something awe-inspiring.

I enjoy misuse of the language. Rock-hair cut. Not a rock hair-cut, but rather a rock-hair cut. Because even sculptures needs a trim every now and then. Apparently.

This made me smile. Little faces drawn onto a traffic light. Makes me want to go around and do it to other ones.

On our way back to the train station, saw a sewing supply store. Look at those spools of thread!

Burn, Baby, Burn!

For some reason, Maryland decided that even after electronically rejecting me about a month ago, they'd send along a paper copy to make sure I got the message.

How does one respond to that? Well, I toasted my flaming (literally) letter with a bottle of 2009 Cabernet d'Anjou. I already accepted Penn State (which was more of a first choice anyway), so this was a matter of honor really.

Now you see it ...

Now it's a flaming pile of ash in my kitchen sink :)

So that's settled.

Kitchen does not equal métro, just the same.

This picture is hanging in our kitchen at home :)

Miss it.

Les Grosses Têtes.

I first subscribed to the French radio program 'Les Grosses Têtes' maybe two years ago, in a fit of podcast excitement. At the time, it was far too difficult for me to really follow, so I never really got into it.

Apparently my French has improved at least a little, because it's a fair amount like Wait Wait Don't Tell me ... A panel of mostly old, mostly men. Lascivious. But often hilarious, and the panel is filled with characters.

Well, RTL, the company that owns the show, has the recording studio in Paris ... and Julien signed us up to go this past Wednesday. It was cool to be in the live audience, but also a bit weird. We decided we like listening on the radio better, ultimately, but it's great to have gotten the chance to see a taping!

Jacques Mailhot et Bernard Mabille ...

Jean Jacques Peroni, Chantal Ladesou, Amanda Lear ...

The big guy, the host, Philippe Bouvard.

World Domination.

Jess and I have devised a strategy. Here's the game plan:

Here's the map. Need to get mini soldiers to put on top. Perhaps Matchbox cars and Polly Pockets too?

Jess gets North America, except Texas will be surgically removed and placed in the black hole that is Alaska.

I get Europe and Russia.

Emma gets South/Central America because of her experience with drug crazed law. And Spanish ... sorta.

Bill gets Africa, because it's his thing.

We're letting Hillary Clinton have the Middle East ... maybe she can lay the smackdown.

Dave gets East Asia. We think he'll like the culture of all work and no play. Psych, we thought he would be most successful at changing that.

Australia is the Community Chest. Antarctica and the Arctic are TBD.

BOYS'S not geting it.

Near Chatelet. Ugh.

Hello, Graduate School.

Regardless of where I end up next year, I have to accept my offer from Penn State to even be considered for a deferment.

And it's off :)

Easterly shenanigans!

Easter brunch ... oops? A Lindt chocolate bunny, mmmmm.

For Easter yesterday a few friends and I went to Charlotte's sister's place in Versailles (did everybody follow that link?) to make the most of the strange weather we've been having. We made flammenkusch, crepes, and ate lots of random other stuff.

I even helped chop onions. Skills, I know.

Since I'm such a nice friend, I let Guillaume take a nap...

Not.

Then we attempted to make crêpes. Not sure what the problem was, but we were having some issues. Eventually Bastien got the situation under control.

Then we decided that we needed to go stroll around Versailles to snap ourselves out of the looming food comas. So we took our Easter eggs and headed to the gardens. We didn't actually go to the Chateau's main gardens because there was a musical water show thing, but we went to another big garden/park next to it and played some frisbee. Bastien failed to complete this pass.

It was fun to toss again. It has been forever.

The weather was weird ... It would rain, then be sunny, then cloudy, then combinations of two or more at the same time. So pretty much Syracuse. Apparently France and New York have traded weather for this month. UNFAIR.

Charlotte and Guillaume gave us a demonstration of Tai Chi. Like old people on a beach.

Then Guillaume took distance shots of us dancing along the edge of the pond thing.

In spite of my traditional talents, I managed NOT to fall in.

After Charlotte and I gave each other piggybacks, I attempted to demonstrate my strength. Apparently photos fail to adequately portray my capacities.

Versailles Cathedral thing. Pretty pretty.

Then, like the old biddies that we are, we came home and made tea and more or less all fell asleep. At 6pm. Oh geez, my life :) Fortunately a rousing game of Time's Up (More or less Catchphrase, but with only people. Do we have this game in the US?) was enough to snap us out of it.

For the record, Bastien and I won.

Today is Easter Monday, and it's a holiday. AKA, I refuse to get dressed and I slept until noon. Ahhhhhhh, relaxation :) Happy Easter everyone!

*Reminder*

Now that it's still light when I leave babysitting, the contrasts reminded me where I am. I've gotten so used to seeing the Eiffel Tower that I almost don't notice anymore.

Almost.

BOY'Z can't spel good?

Apostrophe z? Unacceptable.

(Some random store we walked by in the Marais.)