Saturday, July 27, 2013

This is what happens when you drag your French husband to the Bling Ring

He starts talking about Paris Hilton. I noticed that when we lived in California he started saying things like "Come over here. I just saw the coolest thing ever!" and other valley girl-esque things, which was funny, but then I realized he was learning to talk like that from ME. Which was when I started to try to talk like a fucking adult, but apparently I didn't do a very good job, because the last time I was in California my sister asked me why I spoke like a valley girl when I am obviously an intelligent person. Ahhh. Sisterly love.

David is in the US for work, and since I don't trust Amazon to ship my things in a timely manner ever since I had to chase down the mail delivery driver at my mom's house and beg them to give me my package off the truck because we were already an hour late leaving, he is at the mall picking things up and probably saying "like omg awesome" a lot.

He's going to be gone for over a week, which is a long time, but it's kind of sweet because we go back to saying good morning and good night, and trying to make each other laugh on Gchat, which we did for months before we met in real life, and over a year before we started dating. And for the following two years that we dated before we moved here, because he still lived an hour away.



David SahucDavid 
What about the sort of handbag you wanted for the tablet 
Emily LovEmily 
well that is obviously a ridiculous purchase 
did you read what you just wrote? 
I in no way need a tablet hand bag 
I just liked it 
I think my ridiculously overpriced tweezers will be enough 
unless you win big in Atlantic City 
then I want a tablet handbag in every color 
David SahucDavid
Haha 
Ok 
We'd just buy Paris Hilton's house 
Emily LovEmily
she has a replica of her mansion in the back yard for her dogs 
Maza would love it. We can fill it with just born baby mice. AKA veal for cats.


In other news, we've been riding our bikes to a movie theater in the 13th because it's the only place that still uses real 3D glasses (even IMAX uses those janky disposable ones they charge you a euro for). Riding is faster than the bus during rush hour, and it's mostly downhill, so even though we aren't really doing anything, we feel like we are getting exercise. And this theater has a huge selection of snacks from around the world for all the international students in the area. We bought a can of root beer for David's friend Nicholas because when the two of them visited the US for the first time they thought it was the most vile thing they had ever tasted. He said he was going to take it to work to gross out his co-workers.



I used to find these on my desk in the morning when my co-worker had been on-call the night before. I never thought I would see them again.



Jalapeno Pringles. I don't know how I stopped myself from buying them.  

The other day I decided we should try going home on bikes instead of taking the bus, and that was a rude surprise. Those hills look a lot less steep on the way down. But before we started, we had to wait for the roller bladers to go by before we could cross the street. Every Friday there is a massive group that goes through the city with police escorts at the front and back.






I noticed one of them steering towards us and I knew what he was about to do but it happened so fast I didn't have time to step back. He splashed the water from the gutter all over my bare legs and ballet flats. I turned and yelled some choice words (in English of course) and at the same time he totally ate it. He didn't move for a few seconds and I almost felt sorry for him as he slowly got to his knees and tried to balance on his skates, but I was still wishing I hadn't tossed my water bottle in the trash so I could peg him in the head with it. But who wants to get in a fight with a roving gang of treacherous roller bladers? Plus the water was from the pipes the city opens up to clean the streets, so it wasn't that dirty and the shoes weren't anything special. And no, I wasn't taking pictures at the time. The guy was just a jerk.




Sunday, July 21, 2013

Le Chapeau Volé

Last weekend we went up to Pas-de-Calais for David's dad's girlfriends, Christian's 60th birthday party. I had been dreading it for months because at his brothers wedding, which was small, I was jet lagged, sad about leaving my friends and family and had been living in a glorious bubble of English for two weeks and neither me nor my brain were feeling cherry about switching to French. Both sides of his family were there, and since there wasn't a lot of people, I got cornered tons and asked why I wasn't pregnant, when I was getting a job why my French wasn't better etc etc.

I forgot that Christian's family A. Likes to party and B. Doesn't give a shit about any of the above mentioned things and C. She has two super fun daughters who are about my age

The party was held at Le Cochon Qui Rit (The Laughing Pig). They rent out tables to people having birthday parties, bachelor/bachelorette, anniverseries etc etc. so there are tons of other people to dance with/watch humiliate themselves doing karaoke. It's loud and dark, the drinks flow, the food is good and the different groups of people mingle and laugh and tease each other. We left at 2 a.m. and the party was still going on. Not bad for 60.






Our family can be found by looking for the glow stick bracelets and necklaces that only we were clever enough to bring with us.


The B&B's in this area are pretty inexpensive (50 euros a night with breakfast) (homemade yogurt, and fruit preserves, rutabaga muffins, bread etc. at this particular one) and it's cool to see the inside of big old houses. This was an old farm house called the L'oreiller de Houblon and it turns out brasserie also means a place where they make beer. Which they also do here.




malt for the beer and rutabega for the muffins in the backyard  

always a good sign when there is a leave a book/take a book shelf



We bought some for David's dad, and some more for his friend Nicholas in Lille, where we went the next day to catch up with him, his wife and their adorable two kids. The last time we saw their daughter she was a few months old, and now she's three, so it was quite bizare to see her talking, laughing and sporting pigtails.

We walked to an exhibit with an 80's theme, which was quite cheesy and fun, but my phone was dead so I don't have pictures. You will have to imagine the Nintendos, Garbage Pail Kids (yes, they had them here too) and 80's hair in Sears family portraits they had obviously lifted from AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com.


Ok, I stole a picture so you guys could see Les Crados


While we were leaving Nicholas realized his hat was missing, but no one had turned it in. We left to walk home and noticed a young couple walking in the park taking turns passing a hat back and forth, so Nicolas went to chase them down and see if it was his. He looked so truimphant when he turned the corner to find us waiting for him, with his hat jauntily perched on his head. You probably had to be there. I asked him how his hat was doing today and he told me it's "dans le coffre-fort" (safe)


This is a map of the events of my life in Pas-de-Calais. The yellow vase that is supposed to be a beer bottle is where the B&B we slept at is, the yellow hat is Lille, the heart is Bethune where we got married, the white cross is where the priest lived and the diamond ring is where David's brother got married. Don't be jealous of my artistic talent folks. 

Oh, and remember when David's brother and his new wife stayed here right after they got married? Well guess who's pregnant? They had been trying for years and years, and even got a dog, which David told me meant they had given up. I don't think anyone has stayed here and not gotten pregnant, so let that be a warning to my friends who have plans to come visit.

In other news I caught Maza in a private moment playing the "choking game". Looks like it's time to put parental controls on the internet. Le sigh. They grow up so fast.