Saturday, December 20

Ordinarily I should be waking up in the United States, in my Moomie's house feeling all sorts of comforted and warm and cozy. But I'm not. I am still in Paris. It is still cold and gray. Why am I here? You have good reason to ask this question, since any logical person would think to themselves, "I purchased my ticket 6 months ago, so I am flying on the plane pertaining to my ticket." Unfortunately, any logical person would be extremely wrong in thinking this, since clearly I am not on my plane. No no, when I arrived at the airport (3 and half hours early by the way) I was told that there were no more seats. I thought that was really funny, since my seats were already written on my reservation... but this is where it gets confusing because those seats that I chose when I made my purchase were not, in fact, my seats. They were "hypothetical" seats that I may or may not have recieved (in this case, not.) Air France explains that my seat was actually never mine and when I paid two grand for a ticket, I wasn't really "buying" anything. I was hypothetically reserving, just in case they felt like they might want to give it to me. After 6 hours on standby and not ever getting on the plane, I find myself at home again preparing to repeat the same process tomorrow a la Groundhog Day, with some Air France taxi vouchers and a "Compensation For Denied Bording" voucher for 800 euros. Yes it's really called that.


Fancy pants Air France
You sell things that you don’t have
Not unlike stealing

300 seats, yet
330 tickets
Where does that make sense

Woman at counter
I do not care if you’re chic
I will still hit you

Friday, December 19

Sometimes, people piss you off. So you do things, like send pizzas to their house or sign them up for email newsletters. Or other things...

When you were asleep
I farted right in your face
So who’s the man now?

Thursday, December 18

There's two homeless women that have lived in my neighborhood since I moved here. I suppose "live" isn't the best word, it's more like they "squat" in front of the BNP (a bank) on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays and in front of the dry cleaner across the street on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. These two women have more stuff than any homeless people I have ever seen and can often be seen clutching their bags for dear life as they shoot you dirty looks when you walk by. The interesting part is that within their plethora of plastic bags, there is some useful crap like old clothes and shoes, but they both actively choose to remain barefoot and sleeveless even in January. Sometimes they squat across from each other, one at the bank and one at the dry cleaners, and yell crazies back and forth across the street, chucking the occasional aluminum can at pedestrians that interrupt them.

Hey crazy lady
Talk to yourself a little more
You’re barefoot, you know

Wednesday, December 17: Reader Submission

Today' we have a special treat, namely 2 reader submissions! The first comes from the lovely Megan, who is frequently accosted in public places:

Strange man in the bar
Your pick up line does not work
Get out of my face

Lifeku #2 comes from "Anonymous" with the delightful email address of "wouldntyouliketoknow@yahoo.com." For the sake of things, we'll just call him Gunther. Gunther apparently had a problem with my inadequacy lifeku probably stemming from the extremely high levels of truth. Gunther's frustration with the fact that he can't get it up has provoked him to reveal a little universal truth of his own:

Remember last night
I said you didn't look fat
In that dress? I lied.

Tuesday, December 16

Sometimes I don't fell like doing a long introduction, especially when the lifeku is self-explanatory. This may or may not be one of those times.

Curious monkey
Those are my private places
Get your hands off now

Monday, December 15

The holidays remind me of so many things: how much I hate Tysons Corner and teenagers who drive, my grandmother's sweet potatoes with melted marshmallows that I avoid like the plague, the Chinese restaurants that never close, the Christmas crowd at Clyde's... It's so much nostalgia that I don't know what to do to myself. Then, of course, there's always the "Company Christmas Party" that you have to factor in. It doesn't even matter if you work at a company, because chances are you know someone who does and you'll have to be their plus 1 anyway. The Company Christmas Party is one of those rare occasions where you are forced to see your asexual and self-deemed completely uninteresting colleagues in a non-work context, freed from their cubicle existence. This means that you will have to acknowledge their significant others, hobbies, possibly children, and of course, flagrant drinking problems:

One too many girl
You smell like a brewery
You’re starting to slur

Sunday Poll: December 14

Think Fast: Holiday Travel

Saturday, December 13

I'm flying back to the states for the holidays next week, which means I have mentally been preparing for international air travel since before Halloween. It's funny how people turn into complete psychopaths when given only 2 cubic feet to live in for 8 hours. I'm sure the flights to and from Paris and DC will inspire many a lifeku, but I thought I would warm up with memories of previous travels and delightful adventures:

Voluminous girl
You take up two seats, not one
Who are you kidding?

Friday, December 12

There's this one girl who works at my grocery store who is always in a pissy mood. It could be beautiful outside with rainbows and unicorns and she would still be scowling in her red smock, chucking plastic bags in my general direction. I would also like to point out that this particular girl also has a very visible moustache, which she may or may not me aware of and which may or may not contribute to her foul mood. Either way, I think we'd all be happier if she slapped some dipilatory cream on that bad boy.

Bitter cashier
It’s not my fault your life sucks
You know you’re worthless

Thursday, December 11

I'm in a giving mood, it must be the holiday season. I am feeling generous enough to let the men of the world in on another secret: You know how we say it's no big deal? We're lying.

Remember the time
You said it was just this once?
Inadequacy

A quick note...

To those of you who recently signed up for email subscriptions, you must confirm the request before you will be added to the list. You should receive an email from Feedburner and which probably go into your junk or spam box by default. Just click the "verify" link, and you're on your way to lifeku heaven.

Wednesday, December 10: Reader Submission

I've decided that Wednesday will be Reader Submission day from now on...so if you've got a lifeku, go ahead and send it in.

As I've said before, Maureen is lovely, but she is also a horrible person and totally proud of it. This is, of course, why I love her. Sometimes, however, she will take a pause from laughing at people who fall down to think of other people's feelings, for example her mother's feelings. Today's lifeku is about the sacrifices we make to protect our parents' feelings, in honor of the dreaded holiday season:

Mom, I love you, but
That tomato jelly you
Made was gross. Sorry

Note: It has previously been stated that Maureen will eat anything, so the maybe the tomato jelly wasn't so much of a sacrifice after all.

Tuesday, December 9

Today's lifeku has nothing to do with Paris, but instead concerns driving in the States. Before I moved to France, I grew up in DC and spent four years living in Brooklyn which means I had my share of road rage moments. Now I take the metro everywhere and no longer have to deal with idiots tail gaiting me for 20 minutes because I didn't see them when I merged, but I do get a fresh dose of murderous hysteria whenever I talk to Maureen on the phone. Our conversations go something like this:

D: "Hey, what's up?"

M: "Nothing, just running some stupid errands. What are you doing?"

D: "Not much, eating chocolate... wasting my life away on Stumble Upon."

M: "I know, Stumble Upon is so - HEY YOU IDIOT GET THE F*** OUT OF MY WAY JEEZE!"

D: "Huh?"

M: "Sorry about that, people are so retarded. I SAID NO I AM NOT LETTING YOU TURN LEFT!!!! IF YOU WANTED TO TURN LEFT YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN INTO THE LEFT TURN LANE YOU JACKASS!!"

D: "Are you at Tysons Corner?"

M: "Route 7" [10 second horn honk] "NO, NO, F*** YOU I HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!"

D: "Road rage much?"

M: "I know, but it's not my fault that everyone is stup--- [interruped by extremely long horn honk]"

and the conversation continues in that matter for a few minutes until I get tired of hearing Maureen's "angry voice" and I hang up the phone so she can yell. This one is dedicated to my Twin Flame and the person she hates the most on on the road:

Car blocking the box
I’m imagining your death
You selfish ass wipe

Monday, December 8

Sometimes, but not very often, I feel a little bit bad for men. In general. They never really seem to know what's going on and those blank, confused stares often give me the urge to let them in on a little universal truth:

Hey, all men: newsflash
Sometimes we start fights with you
Just because we can.

Sunday Poll: December 7

Think fast: The French

Weekly Round-up: Personal Space

In honor of my love for personal space and the incredible security that goes along with it, I've put together a list of the top lifekus dedicated to those who invade your (and my) area:

Personal Space Invader 1: The Close Talker

Personal Space Invader 2: The Homeless Man in the Metro

Personal Space Invader 3: The Pushy Old Lady

Personal Space Invader 4: The Plain Old Rude Lady

Personal Space Invader 5: The Man Who Yells in Your Face

Personal Space Invader 6: The Facebook Stalker

Personal Space Invader 7: The Lady Who Presses Up Against You

Personal Space Invader 8: The American Backpacker

Personal Space Invader 9: The Pusher in Line at the Store

and last but certainly not least:

Personal Space Invader 10: The I Talk About My Life With Complete Strangers Lady

Saturday, December 6

When I was a kid, I used to travel a lot. My parents would send me to visit my aunts and uncles in France and Israel all by my little ole self starting at the rip young age of 10. I felt so grown up, traveling all by myself... [insert nostalgic sigh] of course this is when airline tickets didn't mean selling your first born child for a trip to Europe. It was also when you could smoke on planes, and by 13 I sure was taking advantage of that "international waters" situation with my pack of Marlboro menthols. Eww. Anyway, I used to always get bumped up, or "upgraded" in fancy speak, because I was traveling by myself and couples or families wanted to sit together. Yet again, speaking of once upon a time, back then a lot less airplanes had business class so I frequently found myself sipping champagne in First Class, baby. Oh yeah. Seriously, on like 12 international flights, I got bumped up to first like 8 times. That's a lot for a kid. That's not the point. The point is that ths doesn't ever happen to me anymore, probably because I am an adult now plus nobody on an airplane gets bumped to first anymore. Especially not with that Economy Plus crap which is like in between coach and business. Don't even get me started on that. Back to the point, if I do ever happen to have enough miles to get myself upgraded to Business, I mostly certainly do not want to encounter the most dreaded of all airline passengers: The Drunk Person Across The Aisle. This is the worst possible of all "characters" one can meet during air travel. This person began drinking before they got on board, kept drinking as soon as they offered free champagne, continued with the movie, and basically won't stop until they begin vomiting. And all I want to do is kill them. I once had one guy who sang with his earphones on from Shanghai to Paris but I don't really remember it because of the rage blackout.

Drunk man on the plane
I don’t need to hear you sing
Vomit quietly

Friday, December 5

I am totally one of those people who hates certain people for no reason whatsoever. That's right. Sometimes I look at someone and just like that decide that I hate them, and once I have made this decision there's no coming back. It could be their stupid face, pedophile-ish regard, strangely small fingers, or overall annoying air in general... it doesn't matter, I don't care, I already hate them before I've even decided why. People who have made it on to my Immediate Hatred List have absolutely zero chance of getting anywhere with me on anything ever. A perfect example is Jennifer Garner. I absolutely hate Jennifer Garner and imagine her face exploding everytime I see it. This is a person that I don't even know, a person that I have never even met, and therefore have no foundation on which to base my hatred. But I hate. I hate all the while and so today's likefu is dedicated to every single one of you that managed to make me hate you in less that 2 seconds flat:

Howdy there stranger
Your stupid face looks like your
Neck threw up, You suck.

Thursday, December 4

Anyone who lives in a real city probably has their homeless "regulars." These are the homeless people that can always be found in the same place in your neighborhood, except for brief bouts where they disappear and you wonder if they died (you know it's true.) I had 2 regulars that "lived" downstairs from my old apartment in Brooklyn; we dubbed them "Crutch" (he only had one leg) and Snooze (he was always sleeping). In retrospect Snooze could have more appropriately been called "Smells Like Toilet" but I didn't think of that right away. Here in Paris, I have many regulars, including one I really like who talks to everyone with a lion puppet... At least he's providing some sort of entertainment. There was Sleepy McSleeperson, who was often but not always sleeping but regardless always looked really sleepy. There was Drunky McDrunkerson, who once threw a beer can at me and tried to spit on Maureen and was always on a state of constant angry slurring. I didn't like him so much. Then there's "The Crew" which consists of 5 guys, 7 dogs, and a battery powered radio who squat on the corner near the Franprix... Today's lifeku was inspired by my regulars:

Crazy homeless girl
You’re not holding your baby
It’s a dead pigeon

Wednesday, December 3: Reader Submission

After Thanksgiving, we are all moving into "holiday mode" with thoughts of the hell that is present shopping and glittery red and green bits in our faces everywhere we go. But before we begin hiding in our old bedrooms to avoid certain relatives, let us stop to reflect upon the grossness that managed to infiltrate so many Thanksgiving dinners. What am I talking about? I am talking about those unmentionables that nobody should eat ever, under any circumstances. Today's reader submission, was sent in by the lovely Maureen, who I happen to know will eat anything. Even Atkins pasta. Eww.

Why are you so good?
I know others don't like you
But I do. Giblets.

Tuesday, December 2

I often come across "cat women" (women with cats, which is different from "Cat Women" who look like cats, keep up people) who insist on wearing black and dark gray (it's slimming) even though they have what appears to be some sort of furry quilt covering their entire person. These women stand next to me on the metro, where I watch the cat hairs sway back and forth in the gentle breeze of the open window, just barely gripping the wool, taunting. I can help but recoil if the coat itself sways in my direction, as I am already losing the battle against Chloe's hair (my Yorkie.) But no amount of Chloe hair could ever compare to, say, a Himalayan, which sheds enough to coat your home in what appears to be very soft snow. Velcro-y snow. I understand that they love their animals and what not, but seriously, why not put things in a CLOSET. They have doors that close. And on the rare occasion that they live in a studio with no closet, they still have other options. It's as if they've never heard of hair removal, which is an idea that could very possibly make my mother's head explode, since my mother's #1 pet peeve is cat hair on clothes and furniture. Regardless of why, crazy cat ladies out there, this one goes out to you:

Disheveled woman
Here, have this lint roller for
Your coat of cat hair

Monday, December 1

Today is Monday, also known as Gossip Girl Day. Even though I am old enough to have known the mixed cassette tape, I still feel compelled to watch a TV show for 14 year-olds. I can't help it, it's Blair and Chuck, they make me crazy with their wicked schemes. They're like Sydney and Kimberly from Melrose Place only without the explosions. Besides, Serena is growing on me and Jenny's mullet will eventually grow out... which brings us to:

Why, Gossip Girl, Why?
I'm too old to love you so
Much, XOXO

Sunday Poll: November 30

Think Fast: The Word "Panties"

Saturday, November 29

Today's lifeku is a reader submission, sent in by the lovely and talented Maureen, who is also my Twin Flame (as in uber BFF):

What is with the cookie cutter mansions that all look the same? Architecturally, they are like the equivalent of North Korea, lacking any and all individuality. It totally gives me the creeps to think that all of my neighbors would have the same bathroom as I do...


Tacky McMansion
Your house looks like your neighbors
Learn to be unique

Friday, November 28

As I've said before, sometimes one needs no introduction:

Fuzzy little lamb,
You don't want me to eat you?
Don't be so tasty

Happy Turkey Day

My whole family once went through this prolonged vegetarian phase. It started when my sister moved to San Fransisco and subsequently became vegetarian and then vegan. She brought home the trend, raving about the John Robbins The Food Revolution and spewing horrible details about how steak is born. Within weeks, she had my whole family on the vegetarian kick... some lasted longer than others. My mom held out at least 7 years for a BLT (I knew she would cave) and my sister kept it up until her pregnancy, when she asked me to buy her a filet mignon wrapped in bacon. Thus ended the vegetarian reign.

Mom, the Tofurkey
Thanksgiving year was so gross
Vomit in my mouth




UPDATE: Reader Submission

Since Thanksgiving isn't over yet and we're all already 2 pants sizes larger, I thought I would go ahead and post these Thanksgiving lifekus sent in by Maureen:

Thanksgiving dinner
I ate way too much this year
About to explode

I should know better
Why am I still looking at
the dessert table?

Wednesday, November 26

Yesterday morning I saw a woman on the metro taking her kids to school. (This particular woman happened to be Asian, but that doesn't relate to anything of importance for our purposes, I'm just letting you know for Jerry's sake) She was, say, somewhere in the black age hole of 38-61 and sitting with her very young children on the folding seats. I say "the black hole of age" because that's where women seem to fall these days. Take myself: I could be anywhere from 26 to 42, with people frequently mistaking me for someone in my mid thirties [insert depressed sigh]. For the record, I'm actually only 26. This woman, however, was more impossible to judge on age than an ambiguous adult-teenager that may or may not be jail bait, because the skin on her face was pulled so tight that I don't think she could actually physically close her eyelids. At all. I also suspect that she has difficulty smiling as well, since her mouth was so pulled and puffed with collagen that she looked like Gina Gershon through a magnifying glass. The best part of all of this was that she had "chosen" not to wear "make-up," which meant the giant white brow lift scars on her eyelids where visible to all. Classy.

Tight Botox woman
No expression on your face
You look like a cat

A note to myself...

A special thanks to my Twin Flame who always notices my morning typos. The thing is, I am actually a good speller and a person who hates typos... but when you're trying to get it out there at 7:00 am before you run out the door, obviously you miss a few. So I figured I deserved my own lifeku:

Daily Lifeku Girl
Maybe you should check spelling?
There's typos galore...

Email Subscriptions/ Technical Difficulties

For some reason email subscriptions didn't go out last night, sorry for the lack of lifeku. I haven't totally figured out what went wrong, but have hopefully rectified the problem anyways... You should now receive your feed subscription between 11:00am and 1:00pm EST.

Daughter Out.

Tuesday, November 25

I've always said that whenever you see a man naked and drunk doing something loud or embarrassing, you have exactly 4 options to choose from: English, Irish, Scottish, Australian. I have never been proven wrong in this theory, ever.

English hooligans
Singing, vomiting ruckus
Get off the bar now