Wednesday, June 20, 2012


The Boy achieved several accomplishments, acquired copious skills, and experienced many a happenstance since He had last written from the City of Lights.  Not that He had scheduled himself into a free-time-less existence; it was as if the Boy was hit with the sudden awareness that he had less
than two months.

His 'free time,' or the time spent outside of His project, had become a series of moments when He 

Out of guilt, the Boy would come down from the clouds - or the steps of a church, or from a particularly wobbly or lovelock-encrusted bridge, or a wine-included picnic - and realize that many family and friends around the world had no idea what He lived through.  Instead of attempting to write detailed pages upon pages of those adventures [later, in due time], He compiled a list of highlights recapping the past few weeks.

This was what He had done, in no particular order:
  •  Navigate Paris.  Namely, above ground, and on a bike.  This involved learning to go in and out of roundabouts [particularly around the Arc du Triomphe], getting lost until 1:30 am and having to bike 25 kilometers/15.5 miles [after experiencing a brief ten minute panic attack], and being guaranteed at least 3 hours of rigorous exercise everyday.
Public bikes?  Genius program, Paris.
  • Lived with two ballroom dancers from the Czech Republic.  These two were the youngest competitors at the same-sex dance competition, and they won third place in the advanced level for men's latin.  SUCH A PROUD ROOMMATE!
  • Somewhat related, He also started to learn choreography taught by middle-aged men for the upcoming Pride Parade.  Yes, He would perform.  Excited maybe?
  • Moved to Puteaux.  New host, new scene, and new lifestyle.  Interestingly, Host 2 cautioned how to pronounce the suburb, as the sounds making it may translate to "dirty water" or "dirty whore" in French.  Or, as Host 2 likes to translate, "dirty whore water."  Also located next to la Défense, the business district, or the place with a lot of glass buildings that reflect each other.
  • Rid Himself of His only pair of jeans.  Sad.
  • Continued Argentine tango classes.  Interestingly, one of His teachers from Buenos Aires would come next month...
  • Further developed His culinary skills.  Between His two hosts, He learned to cook quiche lorraine, boeuf borguignon, rhubarb ice cream sauce, and crêpes.

  • Roadtripped to Lille, where the macaroons and pastries were cheaper, the weather a bit colder, and everything much more country.

  • Realized that Parisians aren't fantastic dressers [as is the popular belief], but are just incredibly comfortable and confident with what clothes they have.  It was all in the attitude in which they wore clothes, not the price tag that made the citizens so attractive.  Maybe.

  • Got spat on by a Frenchman whilst driving through the suburbs of Paris.  He should have known something was wrong when the Frenchman opened the car door and started yelling, but He had only assumed it were typical mannerisms outside of the city.
  • Wore shorts that rose above the knee.  Contrary to the style he had grown accustomed to in the 90s, the Boy's thighs had felt a new freedom never experienced before.
  • Saw the rat trap shop from Ratatouille.

  • Attended a house party in Bures-sur-Yvette, in which most of the attendees were either musicians or singers.  To compensate for His lack of either skill, the Boy whisked around a young 20-something singer in Argentine Tango.  Many older women sighed longingly.  'Twas also at this party where a wonderful french woman who bore a red-headed resemblance to Meryl Streep spoke to [and thus taught] Him only in French.
  • Found places that reminded him of friends from long ago...

  • Picnicked many times, either alone or with friends.  During the summer, the picnic culture skyrockets and everyone saves money from going out to restaurants by buying food from markets and eating them along rivers, canals, in parks, or just on benches.  Ah, romantique.
  • Met with friends from a long time ago, from another lifetime.
  • Had a Groucho Marx sighting in Notre Dame.

 [Terribly Late]

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