Monthly Archives: October 2012

Oui ou Non? Halloween

Oui, Halloween exists here.

Non, les français don’t dress up.

And there is obviously no Halloween candy to be found…those skinny bitches.


If you’ve been keeping up with the Weather Channel, you’re probably quoting Danny from Grease this very moment… “Sandy, Sandy, why-yi-yi-yi-yi, oh, Sandy?!”

Hurricane “Post-tropical superstorm” Sandy (as she’s going by these days) is wreaking havoc across the Northeast of the US. To those who have suffered and will suffer from the aftermath of this natural disaster, know that you’re in our prayers. Every stormcloud has a silver lining: unity. We’re all in this together. God bless America.

Mot du Jour: Déguisement

In honor of Halloween demain, my first French word of the day is déguisement.

The debut to my short-lived career as a film star

déguisement (noun, masculine) [day-geeze-eh-mont]: what les français call a costume.

My first déguisement, as a hobo

Last night I was telling my host family about my plans of bringing Halloween à Paris, and I didn’t know the word for costume. When in doubt, add a French accent to the English word. CostOOME? I tried. They immediately knew what I meant but said, “Non, c’est un day-geeze-eh-mont.” At first I thought that was such a funny word to mean costume, but then it occurred to me that it had the same root as the English word disguisement, and then it occurred to me that actually the English word isn’t disguisement but disguise. I’m losing English words left and right, y’all, and my spelling has gone to shit. Anyway, Joyeux Halloween from Paris, and don’t forget your déguisement!

My personal fav handmade déguisement, Furby – KA 90’s theme party 2010

Breakfast in America

So I’ve been a little homesick the past week or so. I know, I know, how could someone possibly miss Tennessee when they’re à Paris? Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the lack of iced coffee, maybe I’m getting tired of being told my accent is mignon, maybe I just miss my bichon frise, but every once in a while, I really do wish that I was on old Rocky Top! And what better way to honor les états-unis than to eat at a diner called Breakfast in America?

the Obama Milkshake in honor of the upcoming election

BIA is cool, everyone speaks English, but it’s one of those places you only want to eat at like once ever and then go to Club Med for the rest of the day week.

Quoting Mean Girls

I’d like to start off with a question: What is the limit to the number of times you can accurately answer a question with a quote from Mean Girls?

If you didn’t immediately shout, “The limit does not exist!” well…YOU CAN’T SIT WITH US!!!!

If there’s ever an awkward silence, you can usually look to Tina Fey for guidance.

It can be used to explain cultural phenomena.

Also, Mean Girls and politics go together like PB and J gin and tonic!

Even Walt Disney knew joining the mathletes was social suicide…

In France, Mean Girls is called Lolita Malgré Moi. I know, right? So weird.

Like, how do you say, “Trang Pak is a grotsky little byotch” en Français?

Oui ou Non? Peanut Butter

Non, the French really aren’t into beurre de cacahuètes. They usually have it in the foreign food aisle, which cracks me up first of all, but they only have kind of janky brands, no Jif.

I asked a French girl about it, and she said that peanut butter is really bad for you. I was like, qoui? Putting ham and cheese and butter on bread is just as many calories as PB and J. She said, “Yes, but you’d rather have ham and cheese and butter.” No, what? Anyway, they eat Nutella the same way we eat peanut butter, like with bananas, on bread in the morning, etc.

Nutella:France as PB:Amurica

Le Refuge des Fondues

When someone invites me to Le Refuge des Fondues, I’m like…

It’s this place where they serve wine in baby bottles. I know it sounds really weird, but…okay, yeah, it’s pretty freaking weird.

After drinking wine out of a baby bottle all night, you feel pretty attached to it, you know, and want to take it with you, but, like everything à Paris, c’est très cher. What I should have done is stuck that bad boy in ma purse, but, being a woman of morals, I decided to coerce the waiter into giving me mine for free instead. Why do you think you can get free shit all the time? one might ask. Only because I always do! From drinks to cab rides to…more cab rides, I do an okay job of not paying for stuff. So obviously I make it out with a baby bottle in hand, and what’s my next move? Smash it. Yup, I preceded to drop my baby bottle, which was made of glass b-t-dubs (who knew?) in le métro, and it shattered EVERYWHERE. So much for not makin’ a scene

Sewanee Girls!

Assimilating: Blackout

When in Paris, blackout or get out.

If wearing all black is wrong, I don’t want to be right. Don’t wear any colors or people might think you’re happy. Just kidding, but really.

Just remember, BLACK is the new black. Black goes with everything. When in doubt, wear black. Sure, you might look slightly goth, but hey, you’ll look Parisian.

**photos of Paris Vogue team**

Eurotrash 22-10-2012

As if living in Paris hasn’t left me broke enough already, the Euro exchange has gotten worse since my last post.

If those numbers mean nothing to you, basically the significance is that since my last Eurotrash update, those numbers at the bottom have gotten bigger, which is bad news bears for us Americans pretending to be French people.

For you non-econ majors, if 1 Coca Light was worth 1.3 Diet Cokes, now 1 Coca Light is worth 1.3 Diet Cokes with Sonic ice.


I’m in love. His name is Harrod.

As much as I would love to say that the Houses of Parliament or St Paul’s was my favorite part of London, alas, my heart belongs to Harrods. It is a truly magical place. I guess this is how kids feel when they go to Disney after their parents get divorced… #rightofpassage

It’s like I finally understand what Belinda Carlisle was singing about in 1987.

    Ooh, Balmain, do you know what that’s worth?
    Compared to Harrods, Bon Marché’s the worst,
    They say at Harrods, bears come first,
    A milkshake from Harrods can quench your thirst,
    Ooh, Harrods is a place on Earth!

If you think I’m exaggerating, listen to this: you can take a break from your shopping spree at the Ice Cream Parlour, complete with a milk shake bar.

You’re probably thinking, “This sounds like Christmas morning!” Well as a matter of fact…

They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in London, oddly enough, so after, like, labor day, they jump straight into Christmas!

Harrods has something for everyone! Even a Mackenzie-Childs room, where your mom can buy more turtle pots that your dad will probably arrange to look like they’re procreating! What, that doesn’t happen at your house?

Still think I’m being a drama queen? (Me, dramatic? Never!) Wait ‘till you hear this. There’s a Pizzeria, where the chefs–wait for it–SING OPERA. No joke. They literally belt it out while they’re tossing your dough.

But wait, there’s more. What is this, my birthday? One of the escalators (because there are several) is Egyptian themed and called the Egyptian Escalator. Now, not only can you walk like an Egyptian, but ride like one too!

Even the bathrooms at Harrods are superior. They have actual perfume. Not like cheap bathroom cologne, oh no, we’re talking Chanel and Prada quality scents. Can’t go walkin’ around Harrods smellin’ cheap.

Remember that scene in the Parent Trap when Lilo is like “I’m Hallie,” and Natasha Richardson is like, “People say you’re a mother-less California freak who is a less hot version of your twin sister Annie” “Let’s spend the rest of the day getting lost in Harrods”? Well that’s how Nanner and I spent Saturday afternoon. No, really, this is how I found her…

They should really take before and after pics of people at Harrods. Walking in, looking solemn, and leaving, looking like John Stamos just said you were pretty.

Oh, that awkward moment when your post about Harrods is longer than your post about the entire city of London