Monday, April 26, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
on fait comme ça pt. 2
as soon as i disembarked, i met my buddies on the pier, and they handed me a bottle of wine. that i proceeded to chug. then moved to vodka, then to more wine, then to tequila shots. then the bar. flaming shots, flavored vodka shots. who knows what happened. all i know is that after a long day of traveling, i probably shouldnt drink.
from what i've been told, i went upstairs with creepy bartender greg and when we went home i put my hand in the container of tarama. a big hello to the island of yeu!
margaux's house is pretty amazing. theres a main house with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a spacious kitchen (hard to find in france i've noticed), living area, front and back porch. then theres a little side area with two bedrooms, each with doors that open to the courtyard in front of the house. my room was one of those, since i arrived later than ondine and mag. but yeah it was very nice. except for the centipede.
we spent most of the time laying out, cooking, biking to port joinville, going to bars at the port (le corsaire is the only name i remember), drinking, eating, and placing bets on who could get laid first.
anyway notable events:
one day we drove to this gorgeous cliffy beach to take our appero's and watch the sunset before dinner. while there, margaux invited two young boys to join us since they had cigarettes. little did we know, they also had green. so i ended up smoking a beautiful joint in the most scenic of places. it was perfect. and their names were cesar and ange (angel...).
we rode bikes to the "real" beach (the one with sand) and met up with jules et louis two 18 year old boys. margaux's friends? laid out, played cards, planned to meet up later.
louis is one of the more beautiful people i've ever seen. it was rough.
anyway most of it was a blur. we ate alot of tomatoes. and drank alot of wine and tequila and vodka. mag, jules, louis and i got ditched by margaux and ondine one night. so i decided we should drink all the alcohol. and we did. jules vommed. after trying to kiss me. i tried my best to seduce louis. but i'm not sure if that's ever worked.
there was a big party on wednesday night because we were leaving thursday. jean professed his love to me. jean is a 31 year old who likes astrology. i know this because he asked me my time, date, and place of birth the next day. weird.
it was so fun. except creepy greg.
and french girls think i'm good at picking up guys for some reason? if they only knew. they were all like "how do you do it? they want to talk to you." no. they dont. i'm american, and they think i'm going to suck their dicks.
and thats the rest of the story.
from what i've been told, i went upstairs with creepy bartender greg and when we went home i put my hand in the container of tarama. a big hello to the island of yeu!
margaux's house is pretty amazing. theres a main house with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a spacious kitchen (hard to find in france i've noticed), living area, front and back porch. then theres a little side area with two bedrooms, each with doors that open to the courtyard in front of the house. my room was one of those, since i arrived later than ondine and mag. but yeah it was very nice. except for the centipede.
we spent most of the time laying out, cooking, biking to port joinville, going to bars at the port (le corsaire is the only name i remember), drinking, eating, and placing bets on who could get laid first.
anyway notable events:
one day we drove to this gorgeous cliffy beach to take our appero's and watch the sunset before dinner. while there, margaux invited two young boys to join us since they had cigarettes. little did we know, they also had green. so i ended up smoking a beautiful joint in the most scenic of places. it was perfect. and their names were cesar and ange (angel...).
we rode bikes to the "real" beach (the one with sand) and met up with jules et louis two 18 year old boys. margaux's friends? laid out, played cards, planned to meet up later.
louis is one of the more beautiful people i've ever seen. it was rough.
anyway most of it was a blur. we ate alot of tomatoes. and drank alot of wine and tequila and vodka. mag, jules, louis and i got ditched by margaux and ondine one night. so i decided we should drink all the alcohol. and we did. jules vommed. after trying to kiss me. i tried my best to seduce louis. but i'm not sure if that's ever worked.
there was a big party on wednesday night because we were leaving thursday. jean professed his love to me. jean is a 31 year old who likes astrology. i know this because he asked me my time, date, and place of birth the next day. weird.
it was so fun. except creepy greg.
and french girls think i'm good at picking up guys for some reason? if they only knew. they were all like "how do you do it? they want to talk to you." no. they dont. i'm american, and they think i'm going to suck their dicks.
and thats the rest of the story.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
on fait comme ça
so. i went to london and the island of yeu for my spring break. not nearly as cool as amsterdam and portugal as previously planned....but shit doesnt always work out. i've learned that more in the past two weeks i think than ever before.
getting to london was a fucking nightmare. theres a strike in france thats been going on for two weeks and my original train tickets were affected by it. so i had to get on another train the paris montparnasse and then take the metro to the gare du nord where i had to figure out if i could get on another eurostar to london. anyway it seems like super facile when i write it like that, but doing this alone in another language is pretty fucking stressful. AND right before my new train left i realized i forgot my MONEY AND CREDIT CARD in my ROOM! so i ran ran ran ran back to the dorm with my shit flailing behind me. i was so freaked out and screaming and crying. really really cool. saying um "i need to get to london tonight" in broken french and shaking and smoking inside the train station because i was too nervous to even care. trying to keep up with my bags on the metro and navigate my way without any guidance. shit was nuts. anyway i eventually got on the eurostar and started pounding whiskey. so i made it to london on that train underwater. and it was all good.
LONDON!
upon arrival, laura, my gracious host, took me to this super cool bar/club in this basement after going to the classic corner pub called the eagle. the stress drinking caught up to me and i was dancing in front of the dj's and talking to this lesbian lady behind them asking her to sing? and smoking the dj's cig and pissing people off. someone was taking pictures not sure who or where to find them but there probably out there on the interweb. returned to her dorm after and ate two huge sub sandwiches.
woke up the next day and went to the natural history museum- dinosaurs, cool shit, pictures to come. that night we went to this bar called cargo where there were rappers/dj's and jarvis cocker was the mc. too cool absolutely. so fun. the rappers were hilarious and we talked to them a bit after. i cant even convey how amazingly refreshing it was to be able to speak in english and be undersood. then we went to this place called avalon which was weird and then anothe place called either 333 or mother- not sure. dancing. drinking. whiskey. got hit on by a pretty lesbian (theres a strange lesbian theme with this london blog post)
next day was the figuring out exactly what my plans are/buying ticket back to france day. then i went shopping at oxford circus. took the metro (tube) everywhere grace a laura's oyster card and my iphone's metro app. felt so self sufficient in the big city. topshop. is. incredible. four floors. one floor for just shoes. one floor for just bags and tights. i cant tell you. i only stayed for like 30 mintues because it was so overwhelming. i bought an adorable little purse and some sheer black tights with a purple back seam. then went to the urban outfitters across the street. i couldnt resist and i bought some brogue shoes that were on sale for 15 pounds (livres sterling in french). then went back, showered, walked to this cool fucking venue called the village underground for the rain machine show. NOTE: sometimes when the ticket says it starts at 9, it really starts at 9. so i got there at 10:45 thinking it would be perfect and i wouldnt have to loiter around alone until he started. but no i got to hear the last song. which was kind of a bummer but ended up fine cuz it was really good and a really amazing experience. the venue was clearly an art studio place- big bare brick walls and brick arches. the crowd was weird, no dancing, and no one hung around to see if there would be an encore?
next day was tate modern, downtown, st. peters cathedral, guide book reading to plan my last day.
last day in london i woke up at 10am thinking yeah great then fell back asleep and woke up for real at 3:30. headed to nottinghill/queensway area for "the best chinese roast duck in the world" at this dingy little place called Four Seasons. it was superb. i actually ate lunch and dinner there. lunch alone, dinner with my new friend cody dick, who happens to be one of the most genuine people ive ever met. bizarre what can happen in a few days. after lunch i went to camden market, bought a pipe, then dinner, then went to westminster abbey and big ben, the usual stuff. we all ended up going to this club called zoo bar, which was pretty cheesy and lame but fun all the same. london is really into clubbing.
OKAY i think that wraps up london. it was amazing. i missed double decker music fest in oxford, but i rode on the second story of a real double decker bus in london. i really didnt want to leave london. the english, the people i met, the food which was acutally amazing, the beeeeer, the cute 10 packs of cigs (pictures later), the completely inspiring fashion sense everyone seems to have, the eagle, the music. cant beat it. i'm definitely going back as soon as i have more money- only downside is that its outrageously expensive. my taxi from laura's to the natural history museum was 19 pounds (about 30 dollars). ten cigs cost about 4 pounds.
i know i used to say that i loved france more than any other country, but england kind of became my favorite. i want nothing more than to go to scotland with you.
anyway i got back to angers totally fine. except left my backpack (computer, cute new shoes, medicine) on the train. because i make good choices when i'm sleep deprived. called nantes, they found my backpack, and said lady, you gotta come down here to claim it. SO! the next day i decided to meet margaux, ondine, and magurite at l'ile d'yeu after getting my sac a dos from the station. this process was very complicated as almost no one in nantes speaks english, and i needed to have someone show me how to buy my bus ticket to fromentine where i would then have ten minutes to buy my boat ticket and get on the last boat to the island. margaux was a great help when she said "dude, be prepared to miss the boat. you have no time."
i almost pissed myself running from the bus to the ticket stand...which turned out to be less than 200 feet away. not nearly the 5 minute run she had previously told me. but i made it on the boat. smoked the fastest cig of my life and blasted girl talk to balance out my adrenaline.
fuck this is long.
up next: adventures in l'ile d'yeu
getting to london was a fucking nightmare. theres a strike in france thats been going on for two weeks and my original train tickets were affected by it. so i had to get on another train the paris montparnasse and then take the metro to the gare du nord where i had to figure out if i could get on another eurostar to london. anyway it seems like super facile when i write it like that, but doing this alone in another language is pretty fucking stressful. AND right before my new train left i realized i forgot my MONEY AND CREDIT CARD in my ROOM! so i ran ran ran ran back to the dorm with my shit flailing behind me. i was so freaked out and screaming and crying. really really cool. saying um "i need to get to london tonight" in broken french and shaking and smoking inside the train station because i was too nervous to even care. trying to keep up with my bags on the metro and navigate my way without any guidance. shit was nuts. anyway i eventually got on the eurostar and started pounding whiskey. so i made it to london on that train underwater. and it was all good.
LONDON!
upon arrival, laura, my gracious host, took me to this super cool bar/club in this basement after going to the classic corner pub called the eagle. the stress drinking caught up to me and i was dancing in front of the dj's and talking to this lesbian lady behind them asking her to sing? and smoking the dj's cig and pissing people off. someone was taking pictures not sure who or where to find them but there probably out there on the interweb. returned to her dorm after and ate two huge sub sandwiches.
woke up the next day and went to the natural history museum- dinosaurs, cool shit, pictures to come. that night we went to this bar called cargo where there were rappers/dj's and jarvis cocker was the mc. too cool absolutely. so fun. the rappers were hilarious and we talked to them a bit after. i cant even convey how amazingly refreshing it was to be able to speak in english and be undersood. then we went to this place called avalon which was weird and then anothe place called either 333 or mother- not sure. dancing. drinking. whiskey. got hit on by a pretty lesbian (theres a strange lesbian theme with this london blog post)
next day was the figuring out exactly what my plans are/buying ticket back to france day. then i went shopping at oxford circus. took the metro (tube) everywhere grace a laura's oyster card and my iphone's metro app. felt so self sufficient in the big city. topshop. is. incredible. four floors. one floor for just shoes. one floor for just bags and tights. i cant tell you. i only stayed for like 30 mintues because it was so overwhelming. i bought an adorable little purse and some sheer black tights with a purple back seam. then went to the urban outfitters across the street. i couldnt resist and i bought some brogue shoes that were on sale for 15 pounds (livres sterling in french). then went back, showered, walked to this cool fucking venue called the village underground for the rain machine show. NOTE: sometimes when the ticket says it starts at 9, it really starts at 9. so i got there at 10:45 thinking it would be perfect and i wouldnt have to loiter around alone until he started. but no i got to hear the last song. which was kind of a bummer but ended up fine cuz it was really good and a really amazing experience. the venue was clearly an art studio place- big bare brick walls and brick arches. the crowd was weird, no dancing, and no one hung around to see if there would be an encore?
next day was tate modern, downtown, st. peters cathedral, guide book reading to plan my last day.
last day in london i woke up at 10am thinking yeah great then fell back asleep and woke up for real at 3:30. headed to nottinghill/queensway area for "the best chinese roast duck in the world" at this dingy little place called Four Seasons. it was superb. i actually ate lunch and dinner there. lunch alone, dinner with my new friend cody dick, who happens to be one of the most genuine people ive ever met. bizarre what can happen in a few days. after lunch i went to camden market, bought a pipe, then dinner, then went to westminster abbey and big ben, the usual stuff. we all ended up going to this club called zoo bar, which was pretty cheesy and lame but fun all the same. london is really into clubbing.
OKAY i think that wraps up london. it was amazing. i missed double decker music fest in oxford, but i rode on the second story of a real double decker bus in london. i really didnt want to leave london. the english, the people i met, the food which was acutally amazing, the beeeeer, the cute 10 packs of cigs (pictures later), the completely inspiring fashion sense everyone seems to have, the eagle, the music. cant beat it. i'm definitely going back as soon as i have more money- only downside is that its outrageously expensive. my taxi from laura's to the natural history museum was 19 pounds (about 30 dollars). ten cigs cost about 4 pounds.
i know i used to say that i loved france more than any other country, but england kind of became my favorite. i want nothing more than to go to scotland with you.
anyway i got back to angers totally fine. except left my backpack (computer, cute new shoes, medicine) on the train. because i make good choices when i'm sleep deprived. called nantes, they found my backpack, and said lady, you gotta come down here to claim it. SO! the next day i decided to meet margaux, ondine, and magurite at l'ile d'yeu after getting my sac a dos from the station. this process was very complicated as almost no one in nantes speaks english, and i needed to have someone show me how to buy my bus ticket to fromentine where i would then have ten minutes to buy my boat ticket and get on the last boat to the island. margaux was a great help when she said "dude, be prepared to miss the boat. you have no time."
i almost pissed myself running from the bus to the ticket stand...which turned out to be less than 200 feet away. not nearly the 5 minute run she had previously told me. but i made it on the boat. smoked the fastest cig of my life and blasted girl talk to balance out my adrenaline.
fuck this is long.
up next: adventures in l'ile d'yeu
Monday, April 5, 2010
regrets
it wasn't until after recounting this story to porter did i realize the gross mistake i made.
saturday afternoon in paris i call dimi- he says "hey, i just woke up. i'm in the bath. i wash my hair and my body. i call you back"
he calls back "hey i'm going to dauville tonight, you should come! i find you a train because i go by smart car and there's no more room"
"i dont have anything to wear, dimi. i look like shit"
"i find you a dress and makeup and shoes. just get on the train in thirty minutes."
he proceeds to send me the trip info via text message but my dumb ass forgets about taxi's and thinks its not possible for me to get there in time.
he says "im such a shit waking up at 5 when the amazing sara is in paris. i try my best sweetheart to find a way."
"i'm leaving with a school group on a bus at 7:30. its all good. we'll do it another day."
so instead of gambling and wearing whatever he thought would fit me probably out of his moms closet, i went back to angers and ate a bagle sandwich from starbucks and listened to joanna newsom.
i am an idiot. the end.
saturday afternoon in paris i call dimi- he says "hey, i just woke up. i'm in the bath. i wash my hair and my body. i call you back"
he calls back "hey i'm going to dauville tonight, you should come! i find you a train because i go by smart car and there's no more room"
"i dont have anything to wear, dimi. i look like shit"
"i find you a dress and makeup and shoes. just get on the train in thirty minutes."
he proceeds to send me the trip info via text message but my dumb ass forgets about taxi's and thinks its not possible for me to get there in time.
he says "im such a shit waking up at 5 when the amazing sara is in paris. i try my best sweetheart to find a way."
"i'm leaving with a school group on a bus at 7:30. its all good. we'll do it another day."
so instead of gambling and wearing whatever he thought would fit me probably out of his moms closet, i went back to angers and ate a bagle sandwich from starbucks and listened to joanna newsom.
i am an idiot. the end.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
sans rancune
ricola (flavor seabuckthorn?): delicious. sambucus: charcoal
ines?, margaux and pwells at 66
p and jules at the rockabilly bar-
ondine sur le metro
porter naps, margaux finds teufs (party inversion)
and me making up my bed in margauxs house- the only presentable picture of me from this trip. thanks porter for the "ass" shot
yeah. cool. whatever.
Monday, March 29, 2010
the love is thick thick
this will be a picture post tomorrow.
i keep realizing that france is actually different from america. and that culture isnt an abstract concept. and its weird and great but i'm kind of over it. as stupid as that sounds, i did think that the differences would be ignorable. but france just feels so old. i mean no shit. but really. the language, the traditions, the way the people act/interact. it feels like everything my grandparents would have told me. like the guys are the same as they are in the old movies. and so are the girls? wheres the change? wheres the attitude and gender neutrality? fuck you i'm going to ask the taxi driver to change the radio station. and being "hard" is never going to work for you. you're french. you're pathetic. go eat some cheese and masterbate to how cool your country was in the eighteenth century. go protest something.
i dont want to go home, but i dont want to stay here. and i've got about two weeks to decide what my plans are for spring break. i dont know if anyone can be emotionally stable enough to amsterdam alone. maybe i'll get a hotel on the beach somewhere and just lay out for two weeks. or maybe i'll go to the other side and visit some english speakers.
aside: fellas- say you for some reason decide to talk about your previous relationships. you'd do best to stay away the topic of possibly getting a girl pregnant when you were twelve years old. or saying that you want to make money by being a club promoter with lots of hot girls everywhere and techno music- just like in budapest. and you should probably minimize the keri hilton song you have up on youtube. and dont act like a badass because you play poker in illegal clubs in paris. then say you know everything about women because you have five sisters and live with your mother who tells you all of her escapades.
i cant believe that i hang out with such spoiled brat eurotrash. find a car for me to drive. take me to dauville and let me spend your money. but please dont talk to me. its really hard to control my looks of distaste anymore.
and i really wish my french friends would stop calling me a junkie. its getting offensive and making me worried. i dont know if its just a translation thing or what but i'm kind of starting to take it personally. i'm sorry i sleep all the time but i'm not high like that.
okay. tomorrow pictures. i love france though. just love/hate.
i keep realizing that france is actually different from america. and that culture isnt an abstract concept. and its weird and great but i'm kind of over it. as stupid as that sounds, i did think that the differences would be ignorable. but france just feels so old. i mean no shit. but really. the language, the traditions, the way the people act/interact. it feels like everything my grandparents would have told me. like the guys are the same as they are in the old movies. and so are the girls? wheres the change? wheres the attitude and gender neutrality? fuck you i'm going to ask the taxi driver to change the radio station. and being "hard" is never going to work for you. you're french. you're pathetic. go eat some cheese and masterbate to how cool your country was in the eighteenth century. go protest something.
i dont want to go home, but i dont want to stay here. and i've got about two weeks to decide what my plans are for spring break. i dont know if anyone can be emotionally stable enough to amsterdam alone. maybe i'll get a hotel on the beach somewhere and just lay out for two weeks. or maybe i'll go to the other side and visit some english speakers.
aside: fellas- say you for some reason decide to talk about your previous relationships. you'd do best to stay away the topic of possibly getting a girl pregnant when you were twelve years old. or saying that you want to make money by being a club promoter with lots of hot girls everywhere and techno music- just like in budapest. and you should probably minimize the keri hilton song you have up on youtube. and dont act like a badass because you play poker in illegal clubs in paris. then say you know everything about women because you have five sisters and live with your mother who tells you all of her escapades.
i cant believe that i hang out with such spoiled brat eurotrash. find a car for me to drive. take me to dauville and let me spend your money. but please dont talk to me. its really hard to control my looks of distaste anymore.
and i really wish my french friends would stop calling me a junkie. its getting offensive and making me worried. i dont know if its just a translation thing or what but i'm kind of starting to take it personally. i'm sorry i sleep all the time but i'm not high like that.
okay. tomorrow pictures. i love france though. just love/hate.
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