If you know anything about me, you know my love for the French Riviera. Cannes is, and will always be, my hood away from hood. That’s why Jérôme, Kat, Chelsea, Sarah, and I (and Mari Cohen in spirit–DAMN YOU, EASYJET!) took it upon ourselves to take a weekend off from our
busy, stressful pretty chill lives in Ole Paris to spend some time sur la Côte d’Azur. I know, poor us.
Weekend in Nice, anyone?
As trite and inadequate as a single blog post is to recognize the September 11 attacks, today, on the eleventh anniversary, I would like to honor the thousands of people who were taken too soon, remember the devastating loss, and reflect on the preciousness of life, as well as salute the spirit of unity that came in the aftermath of this unimaginable tragedy. The best of humanity can overcome the worst of hate.
God bless America.
There have been so many times when, after observing an aspect of French culture, I have thought, “Wow, that is really nice; I can really appreciate that.” And then there have been times when I have been more like, “WTF France, get your shit together!” Continue reading
Non, it is very much NOT a thing here.
When I tried to explain sororities and fraternities to my new host family over dinner last night, they literally LOL’d. They LLOL’d. LLOL=literally laugh out loud.
“Why would you join this club?”
“To be their friend.”
“You can’t be their friend unless you join this club?”
“No, of course you can!”
“Then why would you join this club?”
I’ve got nothin’.
Just wait until I describe SHAKE DAY…
I feel like I should preface this story by telling you that it ends in both tears and vomit, so sensitive stomachs beware.
I don’t want to dwell on the sickening details, so I’ll cut to the chase. Tonight, Madame Jan served me this…THING…that resembled a giant penis more than any non-penis object I have ever seen in my life. But WAY uglier. If a flacid penis is gross, then this was something from Dawn of the Dead.
The only thing more embarrassing than looking like a lobster after a day at the beach is having tan lines, which, with the modern technology of sunscreen and spray-tans, is completely avoidable!
I mean REALLY, Kim, get your shit together!
Then again, spray-tans can get streaky and, as it turns out, that urban legend that tanning beds are bad for you isn’t an urban legend after all…but fear not, for I present a solution: NUDE BEACHES.
Oui, with EVERYTHING.
Get it?! Prime example of Franglais.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:
I support chickens of all sexual orientations. Therefore, in honor of not eating bigot chicken, I present to you Le McBaguette. Continue reading
I would like to take this opportunity to wish a happy birthday to a beautiful, powerful woman, who has played a very important role in my life; one who I consider an inspiration, if not my role model; one who I called my favorite American philosopher and quoted in my chapel talk at Asheville School; one whose name I adopted as my own during my Junior year of high school, changing my Facebook name to “Lucy SashaFierce H*bb,” writing it on my exams, and even being called “Sasha” by my teachers. Joyeux anniversaire, Beyoncé!
Just kidding, Beyoncé’s birthday was yesterday, obviously. I would, however, like to wish a happy birthday to my wonderful grandmother–can anyone say GILF (Grandma I’d like to….)–Dr. Frankie Hagan, aka Gigi. Continue reading
Oui, they are EVERYWHERE.
Non, the French don’t actually eat them on the reg.