Photodocumentationisme 2: le chemin

Alors, voila mon chemin a l'ecole (accents omitted). Yeah, my walk to school. It's exciting, somewhat, and boring, mostly. But anyway, this is what it's like to live life as a student in Paris, supposing you live a 10 minute walk away from your school (and it is more efficient for you to walk to school than to take the metro). It's a pretty exciting journey, that took me about 2 weeks to get down to a science, but now I can practically walk it blindfolded. It can be annoying when it's raining, and I'm often tempted to take the metro in that case, but then I realise that's just dumb. Besides, rain in Paris is much more beautiful than rain anywhere else. And, of course, romantic.

Anyway, shall we start the walk. First off, here is me getting ready for school ("they grow up so fast"). Notice how attentively I am watching my computer shut down. It doesn't like to shut down. It's weird. Ooo, and also notice my sexy coat (with totally UNsexy buttons that fall off every 2 days...well, not anymore, since I triple reinforced them, but still).

Alright, so then, I go down the stairs one floor (I took a picture of the stairwell, but it didn't turn out very well), and am out on rue St-Jean-Baptiste de la Salle (yes, long name, not-so-long street). Regardez:Yay European cars! Hehe, notice how cute they are. And how they have grown by like 2.5 square cm in length (according to le Monde, that's the case with the 2007 Smart car). Ok, moving on, next we turn left onto rue du Cherche-Midi (below),Fun billboard, rue du Cherche-Midi

which we take one block to rue Jean Ferrandi: There's another sign on the other side that says that Jean Ferrandi was an "homme politique et conseil general du 6eme," and something about the military. Uninteresting I'm sure. Wikipedia him if you're interested. Anyway, more of his rue:

The building that's been under construction forever (always a complicated obstacle to navigate)

The G20 supermarket at the end of the street.

Alright, so that brings us to rue de Vaugirard, home of a Holiday Inn and a private high school, neither of which I decided to feature here (though I do have pictures of those). In any case, here's the crazy intersection of like 5 different streets at the end of Vaugirard (maybe he's the military one, I don't remember). Almost there!

Traffic!

From here, cross behind that bar on the right of the photo, straight across, past the metro station, and there's rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, famed home of I.S.E.P., Stanford in Paris' host institution:

I.S.E.P. building, and children crossing sign. Yeah, they're the same as the ones in the U.S., basically.

Now there are some stairs to climb (unless you're just going to class, which is on the 2nd [3rd U.S.-style] floor). In any case, once you've climbed the seemingly endless way to the 6th/7th U.S. floor, you arrive in the beautiful, Mac-infested Stanford Center:

Aren't they pretty :)?

Right, so, there are infinitely more pictures than this, but it takes like 20 minutes to load each set of 5, so, don't think that's happening. Anyway, this concludes the second part of my Photodocumentationisme feature (btw, that's a made-up word, but I think it totally could exist). And, I think, that'll be the update for this week. For now. Maybe later I'll talk about Jess & Julia's visit and our amazing night at le Queen (is there any other type of night there?) We'll see. Anyway, off to correcting my paper. Good night!

Photodocumentationisme

Alors, I know you're all amazingly interested in knowing about my daily life in more ways than my written accounts, so I thought, why not do a photo journal? Well, actually, I just got a new camera that I'm exceedingly excited about (say that ten times fast)! Anyway, let's start it off with, the most interesting and telling part of my life here in Paris:

MY ROOM!

(Yay!)

Alright, so, first off, my favorite photo in the selection, is the one of my desk.
Mayve you can't see very much very clearly in this reduced sized image, but there are plenty of interesting and telling things on this desk. For example: the full water glass, the empty water bottle (for travel), the endless stacks of books and papers, the picture in the left corner of someone special (hehe), the iTunes open on my computer screen. Yeah. Interesting, right? Maybe not. Ok, moving on then.

My bed:
Sexy right? I was just reading in it, that's why things look a little ruffled. Otherwise they'd be more normal. Notice the sexy lighting, the wall paintings (not my own...my host brother's), and the way it's shoved in a corner (the coldest corner in the house, I swear). I love it.

Next: the dresser!
Yeah, not much. But my entire very sexy wardrobe is in there, so, you know, don't overlook it.

And finally:
The bookshelf I use for miscellaneous items, such as laundry, medications, and whatever. The shirt on the hanger there is drying after being heavily sprayed with Febreeze after being heavily sweated in during my run this morning. Let's not talk about that. But notice all my ties. They are my pride and joy. Really. I love ties. I wish I could wear them more, but I just look out of place if I do. Maybe I will tomorrow though, for no reason. Probably not.

And finally, some pictures of me. Because you know you want to stare into my beautiful eyes. Hehe. Mostly, I just took some really good pictures testing this camera (there are more, but, I thought I should limit myself). And voila:

"C'est quoi, alors?"

"L'écran mystifiant"

Yep. So, that's about it. Now you've seen into the secret, private life that is my personal space. Maybe you saw some dark secret deep in my soul, maybe not....But look, I updated on a Wednesday! For no reason besides procrastinating. Ok, more to come, I hope. Coming soon: the walk to school, the neighborhood, and the Marais! Maybe.

The Everyday, on the other side of the world

So, um, a sort of revolution has happened on Blogger. I don't know if you've been paying attention, but blogger has decided to go over to blogger beta, which in turn means you have to log in with your gmail name, which in turn means...you guessed it! Blogger pages all show up in FRENCH!!! Well, for me anyway. It's interesting, and sort of confusing. I don't know what to do with myself.

So, it's been a good weekend. A good week, I guess. I finished my paper, which is about the biggest accomplishment in about six months for me. It may not sound like much, but considering that I started writing it over three weeks ago and only finished it on Friday, well, let's just say I haven't taken that long to write a paper in ever. Naturally, that accomplishment required a little bit of celebration and a lot-a-bit of reflection on why I am so unproductive. Maybe I should have gone to Oxford, just to have to write something every week. I'm thoroughly convinced that my academism has left. Maybe it's junioritis. You remember that from high school right? The one they never told you about, that came at the most inconvenient time in your h.s. career, and left just in time for senioritis to take it's toll. Yeah, I think I have that. I'm afraid of the quarters ahead.

Anyway, after finishing my paper, I figured it was time to celebrate, to reward myself a little. Everyone else was working on a paper or project or studying for a final or something though, so a night out was not really in the picture. As a result, I spent Friday night relaxing and reading a little bit of David Sedaris, just to get a chance to reflect on my own experiences in Paris. The sad thing is, most of the experiences he describes in Me Talk Pretty One Day are very stark reminders of how banal and quotidien most of the experiences I've been having are. I mean, mine have been interspersed with the occasional crazy night out at The Queen, or the random picnic on the Seine followed the next day by mass at Notre Dame, or watching the fireworks launching behind Sacre Coeur from the base of Montmartre...but still, most of my experience in Paris is about boring things. Avoiding dog shit on my walk from the apartment to the class room, pondering the translation of "Ne mets pas tes mains sur les portes, tu risques de te faire pincer tres fort" as "Keep hands away from door," or hearing the annoyingly high-pitched cry of a passing ambulance, followed immediately by three police cars and their equally high-pitched sirens.

I mean, I guess that's what it comes down to in the end, or am I wrong? I mean, when you really come to love a place, to take it in as a part of you, is it not the minor things that remind you of it. The distinctive scent of the sea that reminds me of Orange County, or the gentle breeze knocking a few brown leaves off of tree-lined boulevards to remind me of Stanford. When a place becomes a part of you, you start to see other places in terms of it. And I have no doubt that when I return, I'll go searching (in earnest, most likely) for the things that remind me of Paris. The Camembert (which is apparently impossible to find in the same quality stateside), the 85 cent baguette (yeah, try finding that at Safeway), the (seriously) familiar scent of dog crap wafting up from the sidewalk (ALERT! Dog poo approaching. Look down!). The day-to-day, the familiar, these are the things I'll remember. I guess that's better.

Which brings me to the distinctly familiar and completely American celebration known as Thanksgiving. French people just don't understand Americans, and I'm pretty sure the confusion goes both ways (myself included). I had an amazing Thanksgiving dinner yesterday (yes, Saturday and NOT Thursday...forgive me oh holy lord of American holidays) with an alumnus of Stanford, his wife, their amazing friends, and a Wellesley student (who was, like myself, randomly invited by the wife, who is of course a Wellesley alumna). That was amazing! Gave me a taste of, I suppose, what Thanksgiving is going to be like once I'm out of college and I or a friend or whoever is preparing the turkey, in the company of numerous friends and gratuitous servings of alcoholic beverages. Essentially, I haven't drinken so much since the summer, but it was paced over an amazing 7-hour celebration, so it was fine. And the food was, well, of course, glorious! Anyway, in the end it made me a little homesick as I realized that I haven't had Thanksgiving at home in over two years, and, well, no stuffing is ever as good as the one your grandma makes. Admit it. I did.

So now I arrive at today, a day spent walking around Paris, counting stores and cars for my "Paris by Numbers" course with Nikki. It was fun, got to see the 19th and 20th, which, while admittedly sketchy compared to the rest of Paris, offer a great deal of low-priced goods and Asian foodstuffs...making them a college student's Paridise! I vow to return at some point. And, I guess I can say I feel accomplished, since I got all of that done, and have begun reading and reflecting on the paper I will eventually (meaning, in like a month or 2) have to turn in for my independent study. After my last experience, it's always good to start early.

Alright, so that's about it. In other news, I've secured an internship working for an architectural research group (I have no idea what that means) next quarter, and my horoscope yesterday told me to go out and buy a new article of clothing (I didn't take it up on its suggestion). Also, Paris is most beautiful when the sun comes out after the rain and a chilling breeze blows through the alleyways.

Anyway, I'm off to bed so I can get up early and go running in the Jardin du Luxembourg, another one of those day-to-day's I'll take home for me (as begin the quest for every possible gravel-covered path I can find on Stanford campus - seriously, gravel is amazing, especially when it soaks up all the rain). I hope everyone else is getting as much excitement from the uninteresting and boring things in their day-to-day routine. And, in conclusion, "Happy Belated Thanksgiving," to quote Ms. Hill.

En ravanche, la vie est belle...

Perhaps you don't understand what that means, but just use babelfish or some other translator, it should get it right on. Or, mostly right on.

Anyway, right now I am blogging instead of working on a paper of which I have written four of "8-10" pages. It's in French, so maybe cut me a little slack? Tomorrow will be my paper writing day. As today was, as Saturday was, as last Wednesday was, as last weekend was...yeah. Call it writer's block. Call it creative difference. I see myself as enjoying Paris, Stanford sees me as getting an education. Blah. I suppose, in the end, it's worth it. Really, I know exactly what the problem with this paper is: it is that I have not had enough time to think about and twiddle at my topic, so now it is far far far too broad and complex to tackle in an 8-10 page version. I suggest, to myself, limiting the debate a little. But I fear it is too late to turn back, seeing as I have already written 4 or 5 pages or so. Whatever.

But why am I talking about a paper when there is so much more that is infinitely more interesting happening in my life?!?!? For example, Chris, Kasey and Jocelyn came to visit this weekend!!! It was so amazing to see them, to recollect days gone by, to find friends who I've known for two years already. Time really flies. It was fun, I hope. Hehe, if you guys are reading this, I hope you enjoyed your time here! Remember how amazing Paris is, and how transformative it has been for me, hehe. The thing that I learned, though, is that I miss old me. I miss the me I was becoming on campus, the me whose development was suddenly interrupted by my shipping myself off to Paris. I suppose it's a good thing, and I know everyone back home will accept the new me just as they accepted the old me (after all, the old me is probably the weirder of the two). It was just interesting to have these external eyes look upon me, and to realize, through their gaze and their observation, that I have changed, just as they have, just as everyone has. It is missing that change that tugs the hardest. But in all honesty, I am most excited to go back and to find everyone in their new states and their new places, and to be young again for a minute, and to bring back to life Californian me. For in reality he's in here somewhere, he's just on standby for a second while Parisian me takes over, if only to not seem out of place.

But yes, the visit was a great time. I think my favorite part was picnicking along the Seine, and having these friends with whom I sort of still noticed the awkward looks, but with whom a part of me didn't care about what Parisians thought (besides, their looks really are looks of envy and not of judgment). And then, Gracimone, my illustrious ex-wife, is now in town. Tonight we saw Borat: [insert exceedingly long subtitle here]. It was, um, interesting. This may irk some people, but I don't think I really liked it, looking back. It was interesting to watch with an audience of Frenchmen, and it was an interesting expose on some of America, mostly parts of it of which I am not proud, like the rodeo man who judges all people with a certain 'look' to be terrorists, and the frat boys (yeah, that suffices). Overall I suppose the point though is to show what is really out there. And I think it's frankly hilarious that some of these people are suing the producers over their portrayal in the film. I mean, that's you, deal with it, you know? Whatever. I still love the U.S.A., but mostly parts of it that were not featured in that film.

All in all, though, it's just not my type of movie. I'm not much in to comedies of all types, and when a film just tries to push the limit of what it can do that's below the belt, well, it doesn't impress me. I see why it's funny and why it's popular, I just don't like it. Not because I'm offended, and not because I don't think this is true - mostly because I don't like that sort of comedy. But, that's just the type of person I am. I like depressing, tear-jearking movies. They're more cathartic for me.

Alright, so, perhaps I should consider working on my paper. I'm going to be up for awhile more anyway, after my 3 hour nap this afternoon. Most important thing I've learned this weekend, however: I LOVE PARIS!!!!! I wouldn't want to have studied anywhere else, in all honesty.

Learning to speak French...in Spain!

Yeah, so, went to Barcelona this weekend. Big trip of the quarter, I suppose (well, big student organized trip of the quarter). Nine of us went, so, you know, quite a big deal. Hehe, it was a ton of fun, I just sort of wish I had had more time and, perhaps, more money. Money for food and museums, especially...both of which were amazing (except for the disappointing-ness of "spicy" sausage and "spicy" potatoes, which were the European definition of spicy...meaning no tat all).

So, as usual, I'm just going to write about what comes to my head. I think the best parts of going to Barcelona was, ironically, the way it helped my language. Let me explain (obviously): as many of you (if not all of you) know, Barcelona is part of the Catalonia region of Spain, which has it's own language - Catalan. And, as per Catalonia's proximity to France, the language is actually pretty close to French, except, like, if you spoke it with a Spanish pronunciation and added a bunch of x's in the place of 'ch'. Anyway, it was sort of fun to read signs and to attempt to sound like I can speak Spanish and/or Catalan, which failed miserably. But, most exciting, was being forced to use English, and to not understand the majority of what was being said and/or done.

You see, in Paris - in France, really - I can understand almost anything, and my language is pretty much at a level where I can handle virtually any situation and provide an answer to almost any question. Unless it's in slang, or l'argot, in which case - well, yeah. But, in Barcelona, there were a great number of tourists. Probably the largest proportion were English speakers, with heavy weight going to the Brits (including English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh), followed closely by French speakers. What was interesting, then, was to see French tourists, and the ways they were thrown into situations in Barcelona. In many cases it became easier to speak French to get an order or a question understood at a restaurant or store, because of all the French tourists. But nonetheless, the most important thing is that it really led me to realize and to understand the everyday - that is, vernacular - quality that defines French. I guess what going to Barcelona and seeing all of the French tourists communicating in their native tongue really did for me was to force me to see that French is more than an academic subject to be studied and practiced vigorously, but that it is a language that a specific group of people in this world feels most comfortable communicating in - that it is a method of communication.

So, Barcelona was amazing. Tons of new memories (always the best part of trips) - "fashion shoots" in the Parc Gaudi and the metro, hiking to our castle-of-a-hostel at the top of the hill, clubs (that are all free and have on entry point) on the top floor of a mall on the site of the old port, the Gaudi Cathedral, etc, etc, and so on...But I think the most important part of this trip was that it took getting out of France, after having been here for so long, to understand how the French language is now more than a subject of study for me, but it is a tool of communication. I'm hoping that means my French skills will get better. We'll see.

Now, I think I'm going to go to bed and try to sleep off this little bit of post-travel illness that I fear is coming on. Ciao!

The problem with Paris is...

So, um, I didn't do anything this weekend. Like, literally. But, it's okay, because, well, I got some homework done. Not the homework I had hoped. But, well, some things. I've done a little research for my paper. I mean, how am I supposed to do work? This city offers far too much. It's times like these I long for a place like the basement of Green or the Law Library where I can just lock myself in the library and forget about how sunny and beautiful it is outside. And about how many museums and amazing buildings and wonderful restaurants and neat cafes there are to explore. Curse you Paris! Hehe.

No, but the real reason I didn't get any work done was just because my will was a little, below normal. One, I think I'm partly sick (it's minor right now, but it might be developing - something is going around all of us Stanfordians). Another reason, though, is that I've had a bit of a debacle to wrestle my way through. I can't really go into detail here, because, well, this is public and I've never been much into broadcasting my life's minor details to anyone who wants to read them. But, suffice it to say I've been doing alot of writing and alot of thinking about that, and it's been good for me. Mind-opening (not eye-opening, MIND-opening). Otherwise I've also done the following: written 11 postcards and letters between yesterday and today (a personal record, and each one of them is extremely unique and, if I do say so, a work of art in its own right); gone to the famed Musee d'Orsay, arguably the most architecturally intriguing museum in Paris (it's an old train station, but I assume you knew that, and the jury's out on whether Orsay or Pompidou are more architecturally, uh, unique); I ran this morning, as per my routine of three runs per week; I showed a couple of friends (Rachel Danford et al) around Paris a little this weekend, mostly on Wednesday, when I took them to the amazing Sacre Coeur; uh, I successfully fashioned a makeshift (read: cheap) dinner for myself tonight after spending 24.50 on dinner and chocolat chaud last night; I wrote a French article on American tourists in Paris on Friday, and transcribed a French interview, both for French class (go figure); and I wrote two one page class summaries of class meetings two and three weeks past. So, in the interest of making myself feel more accomplished, I'd say I had quite a busy and successful weekend! The only things I did not do: get reading done for my PoliSci paper, and get research done for my independent study. Whoops. Oh well, there's tomorrow, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday, and etc, for that.

Check it: Barcelona next weekend! Who's excited? Wait, uh, hold on, uh, I think that'd be me! Yay! And then after that, Chris, Jocelyn and Kasey come to visit! AHHH!!!! I'm so excited! November is a good month.

Right, well. Happy belated Toussaints (and Halloween), everyone! Look for your letters in a mailbox near you soon.

Once upon a time in a land not that far away...

This weekend was, um, how do you say? Pretty amazing.

A few friends and I decided, somewhat randomly, to go to Normandy, or, in French, Normandie. This is probably the region with the most history of all France. It's like someone decided I think France needs to have like a historyland, because it doesn't have enough history already (note the sarcasm). Seriously: the castle of William the Conquerer (disons, Guillaume le Conquerant), the famous (or infamous) Cathedral Notre Dame de Rouen, the only center of apple distilleries in the world, the beaches of the Allied invasion from WWII...I mean, what more could you ask for?

In any case, I'll try to do the rundown, but who knows how well I'll do. The five of us (myself, Jenny, Nikki, Parilee, and Killeen...yes, I was the only guy) got to our train station at the appointed meeting time of 12h30, only to be greeted by the do-do do-do-do of the SNCF announcer, and the now familiar announcement "Mesdames et messieurs: aujourd'hui, le 27 Octobre, 2006, un mouvement social a deroule tous les trains au depart du Gare St-Lazare. Veuillez consulter les centres d'acceuil pour vous renseigner." Or something along those lines. Basically, for you non-French speakers out there (which admittedly are shrinking and shrinking as a proportion of the people I know), our train (and all trains departing from that station) was cancelled due to a strike or, really, a "social movement." I, personally, was excited to be experiencing my first French social movement, something which some of you may or may not know to be commonplace around here. Just a part of le quotidien en Frane.

So anyway, we finally got out of Paris. We stayed in a hotel in Caen called the Etap hotels. They were like amazing. They're these cheap hotels that are sort of like hostels but owned by Accor, so they're everywhere. I like to refer to them as the do-it-yourself hotel. It was great fun! Hehe. And Caen was amazing, with the chateau de Guillaume le Conquerant. And Bayeux was great, as were the Norman beaches. Everything in that area looks alot like England, and there were British flags everywhere because we ended up going to Allomanches (the beaches that the British landed at during D-day). Food was fun, of course. I got a bottle of calvados to enjoy at some later point as well. In any case, all of it was great, and I have a ton of new memories and new photos on facebook (including the new fall catalogue). It was great.

I guess the thing that was best about the whole experience, though, was getting out of Paris. I mean, Paris is an amazing city, but, like with any place where you live for an extended period of time, it can get tedious and monotonous. You have to get out to remind yourself how amazing it is. The same applies to Stanford, to Orange County, to anywhere...and the key to being thankful for the places you come from and the places that characterize and define you is to escape from them and to come back. Normandie this weekend was great. It was like stepping out of the city and right into a scene from Rumpelstiltzkin (sp?) or any other fairy tale. Now it's back to the real world, with classes, and papers and tests and everything else. It was escapism if ever I've experienced it.

On the complexities of the human brain (namely, my own)

So, you know when you put off writing about something for a long time, say, maybe two or three days, and then a ton of other things happen in your life, just day-to-day, and then you don't feel like writing about whatever it was anymore? Well, yeah, that kind of happened to me.

Last weekend the Stanford Program went to Marseille, Aix-en-Provence and Arles in the south of France. It was a good time, naturally, mostly because of the fact that it was different from the drudgery and everyday-ness that has started to characterize Paris. Life tends to be like that. Once you get used to something, you need to escape from it just because it's too monotonous. Or maybe that's just me. I don't know.

But in any case, I think the best part of the south of France was how much it reminded me of Orange County. Now, I know, I know...I hate Orange County too. On principle, any way. But, I you see, Arles is like what Newport Beach wants to be...it's got those Mediterranean houses, the graceful hills and the peaceful sound of the empty countryside, without the unnecessary traffic and shopping centers and artificially planted palm trees (they prefer oak, here). So yeah, all was amazing. It was great to be reminded of home for a second, because, let's admit it, I am a little homesick at times (or else why go to Gap every once in awhile or sit in McDo for free internet and maybe some fries). The south of France is amazing, and if you ever get a chance to come to France, skip Paris (too touristy anyway) and go straight there. If you're into that kind of thing, anyway. Which I'm not (well, completely anyway).

So yeah, this week has been busy. I'm procrastinating right now, as perhaps Nick will remember I told him I was doing last night. Who needs to read a paper about the gender gap in voting in France when it's already been explained what that gap is (and when the paper is 20 pages long and in French and has these nice tables which are much easier to read). So yeah, la-tee-da. Had a good run this morning, my third run since arriving in Paris. I'm starting to get into the routine now, so I think things should start picking up. Another sign of progress: last night I had a moment when my host mom was speaking to me in rapid French and, as is uncharacteristic of my normal aptitude, I actually stopped being able to understand her. My brain just shut down and said in loud and screaming voix haut: I WANT ENGLISH NOW! They (our infamous authorities on everything from sex to the history of the state of Kentucky) say that's a sign that you're on your way to full fluency. I'll let you know.

Alright, so, such is my entry. I'm sorry there wasn't more about the south of France. There is more I would like to blog about, but, well, my brain is blanking and I have 20 pages of reading to do before the Opera tonight! Haha. Alright, have a great day!

Next time on The Reo World

So, I had quite a good weekend. How about you? Did you go to Marseille, Aix-en-Provences, and Arles in a three day mad dash around Provence? No? I didn't think so. Hmmm. Well, maybe you at least took a boat ride (or should I say roller-coaster-on-water ride) to see the Chateau d'If (of Count of Monte Cristo Fame) and the Calanques of Marseille? Not quite? Well, that's just to bad. Because I did. And I love the Bing family, mostly because of all of the amazing food they provide us starving, uncultured Stanford students.

So yeah, I'm really tired right now. I have a lot more to say about this whole weekend, and a lot not to say about it as well. In any case, tune in next time for a more exciting post. For now, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the commercials! Wooo! Yeah commercials! You know you love them.

Still missing my camera, but even if I had one you wouldn't be able to tell how amazing it was...

Yes, it's a long title. Yes, it was an amazing night. Yes, I came home at 5 in the morning last night. Yes, Paris is a crazy amazing city. Yes, yes, yes, yes...yessssssssssssss. (I have to fulfill some of the promises of the preview, don't I?)

You know what I realized? I'm never much of a person to write descriptions of what I did. I much more prefer writing about what I experienced, what I learned, how I felt, than to write sentence-by-sentence reports of what exactly went on. I guess I don't have much of a career in journalism. And I myself much prefer reading about what went on than getting someone's self-centered perceptions, but, well, you're just going to have to deal. I'll try my best to include some sort of detail.

Voila, donc. This weekend started Thursday night and ended Sunday morning. And, well, it almost ran straight through the entire thing. Anyway, let's see, to start - Thursday. Thursday I met Helena and Caroline and Daniela (Helena and Daniela are in the Sweet Briar program here, and Caroline was visiting Helena) for hookah in the Bastille area, which was great. We were all Parisian and such except for the fact that we were speaking English the whole night. But, well, we were still talking in some hole-in-the-wall bar/hookah place, which to me felt very Parisian.

Alright, so Friday: met Daniela and her friends at Bastille again (the world revolves around Bastille and St-Michel, I swear). We tried to get into a gay club, but that didn't work to well seeing as we were one guy and three girls trying to get into a male club. Oh well, there are others that are more open minded out there (or that allow women in any case). I mean, I understand the point, you know...but, gay men have friends who tend to be female. What's wrong with just wanting to have a good time, not necessarily finding some man meat? Whatever, I know for future reference to not go there, or to go there alone or with only male friends. But we had fun anyway downing a bottle of beer between three people at some karaoke bar up the street. Always fun to hear French people belting out Kelly Clarkson and Madonna as if they themselves are American (with perfect accents, might I add).

Then there was Saturday. What to say, what to say. Let me just say, it was Paris's 5th annual Nuit Blanche, which for the uninitiated means "white night" but translates to the idea of "all-nighter" (the night is "white" because you see the sun come up...get it?). Alright, so what it is like if someone took all of the artists in Paris, bundled them into a big balloon sort of thing, then stuck a huge needle in the balloon and let them explode all over the city. There were 6 main areas of focus, but it literally was like art had exploded onto Paris. I mean, there were ICE CUBES on the Champs Elysees, the Place de Concorde was lit up in blue/violet, and a movie was playing in some random back alley in le Marais. I mean, you know? It was so amazing and, at the same time, overwhelming. And there were people EVERYWHERE, which of course added to the excitement. It's hard really to choose a highlight...I mean, I saw amazing fireworks right in front of the Sacre Coeur, I saw Concorde in bleu, I saw a modern dance (and ALL MALE!!!!!) ballet in the Louvre (surrounded by Renaissance sculptures), I saw an amazingly dramatic reading in the Hotel de Ville...let's just say it was all amazing!!! I also would like to add that goal number 789,165 in my life is now to at least once perform a piece of theatre in French. The language just lends itself so well to the theatre, and it's a completely different auditory experience. It also meant that I was out until 5 in the AM. Score one for nuit blanche, and for a host mother who doesn't mind when I sleep in to 1:30PM after a nuit blanche.

Alors, enfin, only in Paris, is all I can say. I mean, other cities can rival the art collections (NY, London, SF), and other cities can have infinitely more people, but only in Paris would there be an "all-nighter" of art where what literally seems like the WHOLE CITY is out walking the streets still at 3AM (after that I'll admit it did start to teeter off a little). Suffice it to say that I am glad once again to have chosen Paris as my city of study, and to have chosen to go abroad. I can't wait to discover more and more, and to always wish I had much more time to explore. I'm definitely going to need to live here one day. Anyone wanna join?

In honor of the girl in Brazil :)

The M.P.A.A. has approved the following entry for reading by all audiences.






COMING SOON, to a blog near you!

MORE S.E.X.!!!!!!
"Oh Johnny! Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah, yes, yes, yes!!!!! Harder, faster, harder, no...wait, no, you've got it all wrong. Ugh. C'mon, you had me going, and then you had to go and do, well, that. What the hell? Gosh."

MORE VIOLENCE!!!!
"SMACK!" "BAM!" "BOOM!" "FRAP!" "ouch! That hurt."

MORE LANGUAGE!!!!
"&*(#$&(@, you &*$(#& ^&*^$*&@^er." "Get the *&() out of my ^$&#*^@&* %^&$6& you ^&$#@^* @$$ ^&$%." "And ^&$@!!!!"

With a little bit of the meaty, juicy details of my life. Don't miss it!

Paris est trop cher!

So, if you were to ask a group of American students studying abroad in Paris or Berlin or London (Oxford, Cambridge, etc) or Madrid (to some extent, but not as much so) what the worst part about spending a quarter in Western Europe is, what would they tell you? They would say it's exactly that: spending a quarter in Europe. The Euro, as many of you know, is currently worth about one dollar and thirty cents give or take up to five cents on any given day. And I'm not even going to start on the pound. But nonetheless, McDonald's still sees fit to charge 5 euro 50 plus for one of their meals. Economists (or should I say The Ecconomist) often talk about the BigMac index for a comparison of prices across borders; well let me tell you - the BigMac is not equivalently priced in France. It's at least 10-15% more expensive over here than it is in the States. Granted, it does use different (read: better) beef and comes with infinitely more flavorful fries (forgive me, I had a day of American food binging), but still! Quel frustrant!

I guess that's a lesson in cultural differences for you. McDonalds is a completely different instution over here; in fact, anything with an American theme is much more popular here than it is in the U.S. While our citizens may not always like their own culture (or, say, 'fearless' leaders), our leaders have been infinitely successful at exporting Americanism worldwide. It's shocking really, and can gross the expat who isn't feeling a sense of homesickness (read: not me) to insanity. But right now, it's nice to have those little touches of home, albeit prepackaged in an easily exportable formule francaise (or, europeene), whenever I need one. I'm taking it slow, I suppose: yesterday, McDo; today, Quick (basically the French version of McDonalds or Burger King or whatever fast food chain you like...I think more Burger King than McDo though); tomorrow, La Brioche Duree (authentic French food, but fast); then finally authentic French cuisine all the time. Actually, I had some French-Chinese food today for dinner...that was a really interesting experience. Can you say MSG?

So yeah, right now I'm still a little bit in the culture shock phase, but I wouldn't call it so much a shock as an amazement. I am amazed and fascinated with French culture, more so now than ever. And I think it mostly has to do with the fact that I feel French, you know. It's like one of those feelings that you were born out of place or that you don't quite fit in your family or culture or whatever. French culture is a culture that fits me well. But, as I'm discovering more and more each day (which is probably the real "shock" about culture shock)...I'm an American, through and through.

Anyway, I love being here in Paris. It's the little things about this city that really make you appreciate it: the beautiful parks with their 5 million statues (seriously, Luxembourg must have about 5 statues per square meter), the banks of the river Seine (complete with naked sunbathers), the free admission to museums the first Sunday of every month, the plethora of places to go and things to see on a Sunday night that make you wish you weren't stuck at home reading. This is really the city, it's like what every other city aspires to be. Neighborhood charm, big city opportunities, and everything easily accessible. It's amazing, and I look forward to what lies ahead!

In brief

So, I would like to show you lots of pictures of the crazy time I had in Munich, and of the beautiful cathedral in Cologne, but someone stole my camera. That is all. Now I am still mad, and feeling somewhat irresponsible. Oh well. I still got wayyyyy drunk and had a huge deal of fun. More later, maybe.

Travelling 1

Right now, I am sitting in the train station in Brussels, awaiting my train at 14:28 for Cologne, and bored as hell because I had to wait two hours because I got off of my original train because I couldn't find my seat, which was really easy to find all along except for the fact that I had thought my seat was 01 when it was actually 098. In any case, it's a long and confusing story, but suffice it to say changing trains is really easy and convenient.

In any case, this is the life of the traveller, I guess. I've been in Europe for 5 days now, and in that time I've gone from Paris to Brussels and spent three days in Brussels. That was a fun experience, especially because I got to spend most of my time trying to figure out how to find things, until eventually I got to know my way around. I almost feel like I lived in Brussels now. I mean, I sort of did, for three days. In any case, some highlights:

My first day was sort of dull. I explored the Grand Place and the Bourse area, which are mostly one big tourist trap, as evidenced by the numerous stores selling souvenirs and the twenty or so groups of about 50 high school students or elderly retirees. It was fun, that day, to learn how well I know French and to see how well I come across as French. Especially interesting was the train ride, during which the man next to me, an American, couldn't tell until I spoke English that I wasn't in fact French. This happened a few other times when I was buying a ticket or ordering at a restaurant, when someone would first speak to me in French. Most of the time I could get by without a problem. Reasurring, I guess.

My second day I decided to actually go see something, so I went to the Parc de Bruxelles, the park that sits in front of the royal palace. A picture of the park is at left. I have some pictures of the palace too, but I'll save those until later, maybe. Or post them on facebook. Whatever works.

Anyway, after the park, I rode the metro out to the atomium, famed building from the 1958 world's fair. It's quite an amazing building to see, maybe worth the 6 euros it costs a student to get in, and definitely a tourist trap. Despite all that, it was probably the highlight of my time here, since I got to see the views from up high and just relax for a second. See the photo below:

And for my third day, I pretty much just relaxed, having lunch at a restaurant that had a really good flavored beer, and spending my evening resting and relaxing. So, that brings us to today, and to my trip to Cologne. Hopefully I'll be able to update on that soon. For now, Reo out!

Escape is not an option

Being home is so amazing. I mean, in the initial rush of everything, I really only have time right now to remember how much I missed everyone down south, and I feel like come my departure, I might hit tears at some point because of all the emotion that will hit me when I realize how many people and how many places I'm leaving behind. I'm in such a flurry right now, juggling seeing everyone and getting prep'd to go (which will eventually include packing) and just generally getting adjusted to the new life that is rapidly approaching in under one week. I mean, come this time next week, it will be 8:38 in the morning and I will be waking up in Paris! AHHHH!!!!

So, to be honest, I'm filled with so much hope and confidence and excitement to go to Paris and so much doubt and fear and confusion at what I'm leaving behind that it's just too much to handle anything else. Had a great Thursday-into-Friday...Jason and I went up to visit Vincent at his new apartment in Upland. The highlight was probably the, I think we determined, four-and-a-half hour conversation Vincent and I had from 11:30-4 last night - a conversation that was epic in proportion and reminded me of the types of conversations we used to have as teenagers riding home from school, the conversations that really cemented our friendship. One thing has changed, though - I think at this point both of us are really much much much more open to listening to what the other has to say, because we know how much we each have been through and we've been through it all together. I'm so grateful to have that. It sounds corny, yes, but I am grateful.

In other news, I finished just about the greatest novel I've read this year - Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. I don't think that since A Home at the End of the World have I read a novel with characters I can so directly identify with and that I can so view as completely human and come to life. Middlesex had that quality for me too, and (ironically) Pride and Prejudice. I don't know how these authors do it, and I know that it's probably a pretty unique thing for each person and that different characters become real to different people, but wow. It's like reading about yourself, which makes the failures of the main characters that much harder to take and makes their successes so much more thrilling and relieving. It's almost like someone had said to you, "Here is a glimpse into your future - here's where you'll learn about heartbreak, here's where you'll find your self-confidence, here's where you'll grow up," and you just read along, astonished at how much of the past the tale has predicted and worried a little about the mistakes you're going to make in the future. Anyway, if you haven't already read it (I mean, c'mon, it won the Pulitzer - where have you been? where have I been?) I highly highly recommend it.

Yes, well, that said, it's 11:48 PM, and I need to go to bed to get ready to see my dad tomorrow and perhaps to reveal to him some big news (I mean, the chances are getting rarer and rarer). So, I hope everyone is as excited about what lies ahead as I am, and I bid you a humble and appreciative adieu. Until next time...when, it is entirely possible, I could be somewhere in Europe!

A climax, of sorts...

So, it's Labor Day Weekend, and, for once I can actually say that summer is really ending on Labor Day weekend. You know, most of my life (at least my recent life), I've started school before or way after Labor Day, so I'm not used to it actually meaning the end of summer. But this year I finished work yesterday and am moving off campus tomorrow (hopefully), so Labor Day Weekend is truly the end of what was my summer.

I guess it would be nice if I could reflect on the summer at this point, but, well, I'm not going to do that. I mean, my jobs were good, I learned a great deal in both cases, and now I'm done with them. Living on campus was great, though not as social as living on campus during the year (or, for that matter, in any undergrad residence except Mirrielees). I had some good times, had some trying times, am still sort of stressing about my impending departure, and am ready to end the summer for good.

That said, I am glad to have made the decision to stay on campus this summer. I regret not getting the chance to see my friends around Orange County as much as I would have liked, but absence makes the heart grow stronger as they say. So cliche. Olay! But yeah, it was fun, and, you know, I really fit a bit better in the Bay Area than I do in Orange County. It's come to feel so much more homely, so much more comfortable. It's only been two years, so I guess it's about time. Now I know how long it takes me to warm up to a place. I am Bay Area now, unfortunately, and fortunately, and Orange County is slowly fading into my past. Of course, as always, it's really the people from a place who matter, and the people from Orange County are what truly mean the most to me. The place - well, you have to admit, it's sort of boring. It has it's nice features, but not as many as a place like the Bay Area or Paris or New York. I guess I'm just more cosmopolitan than I would have thought. Such is youth.

Anyway, I decided to donate blood today, before I quickly become ineligible (either because I've been in France for six months or for other reasons which would more permanently bar me from donating). I'm glad to have done it - at least I can say I once gave blood now. Who knows if I'll ever be able to again. It's kind of a freaky feeling. Frustrating, you know, when you want to help out, but when you're told you're ineligible because you once had sex. Oh well.

And in the end, the summer is making a nice little conclusion of itself. I look forward to two weeks in Orange County, and to my 11 hour flight to Paris, and to a few days in Brussels and a few in Madrid and/or London, and to meeting my host mother, and to meeting French people, and to meeting new people in general, and to whatever life brings me. Here we go again!

All you have to do is think one happy thought...

This whole leaving thing is really starting to catch up with me. In a way I never could have expected. I mean, I guess that's the way it always goes, you can never really expect what's going to happen, it just happens. That's not that deep, but still.

The rundown, you ask? Well, it's quite simple really. This weekend, I drank, I partied, I dined out about 5 times, and I just generally had the most amazing weekend possible, the first one I've had on campus in awhile. Probably most amazing was that Jason showed up, with Josh, Shawn and John, three of his friends, and drank a little of the exorbitant amounts of alcohol that are still lingering in this here apartment. It was amazing, especially to discover that, well, Stanford is incredibly liberal on the amount of regulation of alcohol compared to other schools. The nice thing about that is that Stanford students are honestly more responsible, because there's no one staring over their shoulder telling them alcohol can do bad things to you. No - that's something we here learn for ourselves fast enough, thank you very much. Hehe.

Anyway, after the glories and crazy latenight shenanigans of Friday night, I had a wonderful Saturday, watching two enjoyable movies. First was Brick, which somewhat confused me but was amazingly hilarious because of how surrealistic it was. And naturally great because it featured the very dreamy Joseph Gordon Levitt, who I am about 90% sure is gay. Score one for the good guys! In any case, after that, Courtney and I watched Hook, and now I really really really want to be a father. I forgot how amazing that movie was, and how perfectly childish. Hehe. I'm such a little kid sometimes. I wish I could go to Neverland, eat imaginary food, fight imaginary pirates, live life like a little kid again. Whoops.

Alright, so yeah, today I spent mostly playing SimCity 4 and watching movies on TV, but Mao, Courtney and I also had the glorious experience of Stacks for brunch. That was, well, like tasting heaven. Or something that better fits the simile. Whatever. And the 4400 was just on! Season finale baby. I feel a little, unsatisfied. But it'll keep me content until next summer.

So yeah, it's been a good weekend. Now, Courtney is packing and getting ready to leave, and I am sitting here contemplating how I'm going to get by when I get to France, and what things are going to be like in 6 months, and where we're both going to be after that time. It's weird, it's like, these past 9 months we've been almost joined at the hip like some sort of siamese twin deal, and now we're splitting up. I really do feel a little like I'm leaving my twin, and like we're going to be separated but do that weird thing twins do sometimes when they can sense the other is in trouble or sad from 10 million miles away. I don't know. In any case, I'm excited to go to France, worried I'm going to lose myself in all the rush, and ready to face whatever comes my way. God, only 18 days...then I'll be on a jetplane. Don't know when I'll get back again. Ever feel like your life is a series of song lyrics? Well, maybe it is. I guess that's not half bad.

Now it's time to go to bed, and lie awake thinking about what I would do if given the chance to have a 4400 ability, wondering if I'd ever take that risk. For the record, probably not.

That's it! I've had it with these motherf***ing clones of these motherf***ing Vincents!

So, I don't know, in all the rush that has led me to today, I forgot to blog about the previous weekend. As in, August 18-20, also known as...the glory days. So, whoops...here it is! Just pretend I'm writing as if it's Monday, and not Wednesday.

I went home this weekend. As usual, it was quite the roller coaster ride from start to finish. Now, we all know how much I love roller coasters (if we don't, then, well, how do we even call ourselves my friend? hehe, unless you've been unfortunate enough to have met me in my transitional period, a.k.a. the last year or so, in which case, it's excusable). But, well, I don't much like the metaphorical kind of roller coaster - in general.

It all started out with the stresses of (or should I say as a result of) the Stanford Financial Aid Office. Every year it seems my mother and I must bicker over the tiniest of details in the financial aid award, which is why I dread the coming of that plain white envelope at the end of every summer. As usual, my mom had some questions, I had some feelings of being treated like a child, and we worked through it. But it put a bit of a damper on my weekend, making me feel a bit more standoffish with my mother than I really should have been. What can I say? Post-teenage angst? I don't know, whatever. I am growing up, it is alleged.

So, with that in mind, I wasn't able to be as helpful as I would have liked to have been in the whole party surrounding the premiere of the glorious film Vincent Lin Must Die. If you haven't heard of it, I pity you, but some day, when Nick is a famous multi-millionaire director, many will look back into his past and find this gem of a film. (No pressure, Mr. Ochoa). So yeah, because I got to mostly sit back and enjoy the party, I feel I had a better time than I should have. But in any case, I did my best to help out, and the party went off quite charmingly, thanks to the Viano family as well as the planning efforts of Nick, Leslie, Jon and Matt. And myself, I'd like to think. And, well, the movie was just, well, unspeakably hilarious, funny beyond my wildest dreams, and - to think - the product of my friends. Really, it was amazing. If you get a chance, you should look up the preview on YouTube!, and maybe buy the DVD (when Nick gets around to it), since it'll be all the rage in only a few years.

So yeah, that was my weekend. I guess I'm going to take to writing about my weekends mostly, because, well, I think it's pretty clear what my week days are filled with. Work, some down time, and sleeping. Oh, and seeing Courtney as much as I friggin' can because, well, she's leaving this weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think I'm about to die. Six months in France might not be such a good idea any more. I don't know. I've committed to it, though, and, well, you may not know this about me, but once I've committed to something, it's about 99% guaranteed that I'll follow it to the end. Man, though, France will be an experience. I get all jittery just thinking about it. So, at the risk of sounding trite and boring...here goes nothing!

Only a week and a half of work left. The summer goes by way too quickly.

Musings on Santa Rosa, and friends...

This weekend was amazing! Based on a decision made about a week ago, I drove up to Santa Rosa, to visit my bestest friend of eternity, Melissa. Some of you readers (I kid myself to think that there are more than, like, 3 people who read this) may have heard of her, and of our friendship that has endured 16 years, a moving away, another moving, college, different schools, and the virtually insurmountable obstacle to childhood friendships that is adolescence. As you can tell, we are quite good friends, and, well, what's great about it is that distances don't really matter, because you just get us together and it's like old times again.

In any case, rediscovering my past like that has lead me to the revelation that all of my friends are such amazing people! I mean, I don't mean to brag, but, let's be honest, my friends are better than yours. (Damn right, they're better than yours. I could teach you, but I'd have to charge.) I mean, take for example the fact that I'm going through all sorts of changes to do with this whole maturing thing, including coming out and a variety of other things. Have I lost a single friend in all the changes? Well, the correct answer, dear reader, would be, no! I have not. And frankly, to have a group of friends that is that amazing is just, well, it's overwhelming. Sometimes it's just whelming, but most of the time, it's overwhelming.

In any case, Santa Rosa is an amazing place. If you've never been, you should definitely check it out. It's like the place where all the hippies went to raise their kids, and for that reason it is, essentially, spectacular! Really laid-back and easy going, like what San Francisco wanted to be before it got all big-city and business-y. So yeah, I had another spectacular weekend. Each one seems to be striving to outdo and outperform the last. I mean, I have trouble believing that I could possibly have a better weekend than this one. But then again, next weekend is THE BIG PARTY!!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!!! WOOOOO!!!!! Alright, yes, well, this is where I leave to go to bed. Goodnight, you beautiful people.

Bohemia unleashed...or the travails of a day to myself.

I don't know if you've ever had one of these days, but if you haven't, you should certainly try it out. Sometimes it's just a great idea to have some time to yourself, to just do some self-pampering and screw the finances to hell. Lately, I've been realizing that my busy work schedule has been getting me more stressed, and thus, I determined, it was time for a day all to myself. Likewise, what a day it has been!


So, the rundown. What did I do today? I'm sure that's the question that's on your head. It's certainly on mine. In due time, my dear reader, in due time. Ok, it's due time. I started the day getting up around 10, at which time I made pancakes and watched the thoroughly entertaining if not exceedingly mind-numbing film Anaconda! Yes, that's right, the amazingly horrific (in a hilarious way) and amazingly intelligent (with undertones of idiodicy) film - nay, masterpiece! - starring the blindingly talented Jennifer Lopez (some of you may know her as J-Lo) and the dashing and talented Ice Cube. Oh, it was glorious!

In any case, if it is possible to top such a feature, I then further numbed my half-asleep brain watching the engaging film 10 Things I Hate About You, which, despite Heath Ledger's (cough) dashing (cough cough) good looks (cough - can you tell I'm being ironic? - cough), was mostly entertaining for its eye-candy (of the Joseph Gordon-Levitt variety - what, nerdy types are hot!).

Now, I'm sure you're all very engaged by my day thus far, as I was as well. In any case, at 2 PM, I decided I had already put in too much effort. So, naturally, I took a nap! It was spectacular, as I slept for an hour. Then I decided it was time to be productive, go do something, get some personal fulfillment. Well, in any case, once that was done, I went into Palo Alto!

I did some reading at the illustrious Coupa Cafe (for those of you around campus, if you've never studied there, I highly recommend it. They have free wireless!). While there, I had a cafe milano, which outed me $4.25 but was worth every cent. Presently, you may be saying - but Reo (or whatever you call me), what did you do after that? Well, good question! After two hours reading at the cafe, I decided it was time for some dinner. So, I went to another cafe - the Cafe 220 - for some Mediterranean food. It was good, you know, Cafe 220 style. Then, I decided...drumroll please...to see LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE!

Yeah, it was the perfect way to cap off such a relaxing and me-centered day. I saw the movie while being surrounded by about 149 old and pretentious types from Palo Alto - you know, the money-donating liberal types that populate the hills and tree-lined streets around this campus - who could not stop chattering about how Robin Williams was so great in that movie - oh, what was it called - The Night something or another...ah, yes, Listener - thank you Marge! God...I just wished one of them had stopped talking about the latest expansion of the Stanford Business School or Toni Collette's breakdown scene or the differences in the novel and the movie or the amazing reviews Little Miss Sunshine was getting despite it's "horrible" trailer. Ugh. In any case, I showed them! I promptly bought a ticket and caught them all off guard as I sat in a seat in the corner. Right. Yeah. Nobody noticed, but oh well. I had a good time, a few laughs, and clearly made the woman sitting next to me uneasy by virtue of my being there. Sometimes I really just feel like the young bohemian I'm sure to become in Europe.

In any case, that was my glorious day. Did some thinking, did some reading, did some soul searching, and felt independent. Sometimes it's great to just have a day to yourself - to do things you want to do, and to know that you are perfectly capable of eating alone in a restaurant or sitting alone in a movie theatre. I think I'm ready to face another work week, finally.

Random Sense of Foreboding

I don't think Paris will be all I hope for it to be. It will be different, not spectacular, not unspectacular. Amazing just the same. I'll be there for six whole months! I mean, once the splendor and awe of first arrival wears off, what will it be like? I suppose no one will know until I'm there. Let's just give it a gander.

"I think I'll go to Boston." Or Paris.

Best Day in a Damn Long Time

So, Courtney and I had a record-length day date yesterday. It was based around the premise of our seeing Rent on stage (as in the musical, made obscenely famous by the release of the film version and it's astonishing popularity on Broadway). That was amazing, infinitely better than the movie, simply because so much more was explained, and it was much more interesting to see how things played out on stage as opposed to in film, where backgrounds actually are Santa Fe or New York City, instead of a stage resembling an abandoned and graffitied warehouse with people dancing in amazingly choreographed numbers. I don't know, somehow when everythings not spelled out for you in hyperreal, two-dimensional picture form and you have to use your imagination it's just infinitely more engaging. Go figure!

That said, following the musical and our mutual 4th weekends in a row in the city (yeah, we decided we've really become more San Franciscan than Stanfordian on weekends), we came home and ate at Janta (a.k.a. best restuarant in Palo Alto) and watched Imagine Me & You, Courtney's current favorite movie (in case you haven't heard). That was enjoyable, and got the Turtles stuck in our heads for awhile (as if we didn't already have the songs from Rent running through our heads). It also got me thinking about the characters I tend to identify with in movies, which is naturally a reflection of my character. But then, a movie about discovering lesbianism is always going to be entertaining. Especially if one of the girls has a hot and exceedingly sensative husband.

Following this film, we went to see...you guessed it! Another movie! Hehe, it was amazing! It was Scoop! It was Woody Allen! So yeah, if you haven't thought about seeing it, first off - where have you been? - and second - it should be your highest priority next movie to see! It's a hilarious movie, with Scarlett Johanssen and Hugh Jackman (who, without the Wolverine hair, actually has a surprisingly small head). Ms. Johanssen is amazing, as always, as an awkward American journalism student. I mean, need I say more? It's Scarlett Johanssen for "Bob's" sake!

So, what can I say to summarize this amazing day, except that it was amazing in every way! I haven't had a day so fun in awhile, which is proof yet again that Courtney is leading a double life as Courtney Hill by day and Batman (woman) by night. Now it's time for me to spend a day vegging, in order to recover from, well, you know...

Time

It's 83 degrees at 9:53 PM.

That's just crazy. So crazy I can't even think to write anything.

I think I'll just go lie in my bed, and never fall asleep.


PART II:

It's now 11:11 PM the next day, and we've just broken the sixties people! 69 degrees! Let's have a party!

Make a wish before it's 11:12.

Life as a Tourist

So Nick and Jon came up this weekend. It was good times, we went to the city for a night, hung out with a friend of Nick's, did some toursity things. We saw North Beach, and I was really excited to go to City Lights! We also walked our asses off, Jon and Nick more than me, but still. It's kind of strange, I mean, being a tourist but not really being one. It's like hypocritical. I felt like I was a tourist in the city, but at the same time I feel like a local resident. I wonder if that ever goes away. Maybe if I actually lived in the city it would be different. We'll see if that ever happens.

Right. Well, I don't have much to say. All I can really say is that it's really good to know you have some good friends, friends who just seem like the type you could never get tired of, the type that you can have a good time with no matter where you are. I dunno, I mean, it's like, the three of us - in fact, the majority of my Orange County friends - grew up together and, well, now we just know so much about each other and are so much a staple in each others' lives that we have no where to grow but closer. Now I'm being all sappy and weird, so I'm gonna stop. But, well, Nick I know you can see this, and Jon, if you read it, I'm glad to have spent this weekend with you guys. It was a great time. Makes me realize how much I miss Orange County - or, well, the people there.

Alright, well, here's looking forward to being a tourist over again and going to Paris! In all truth, though, you have to get the toursity things out of the way before you can really come to know a city. It's all about the discovery; and alot of the time that's the best part. So, while I utterly detest the sight of toursity-types fumbling with their maps and questioning the MUNI driver as to how to pay the fare and what the transfer does and whether they should go to Pier 39 or to Ghirardelli Square or to Alcatraz, well, I realize I did that at one point not to long ago myself. Only after you've done all those things can you discover the real special parts of a city, and, this weekend, I guess the lesson for me is to let the tourists do their thing, since, well, they just want to learn. Something we all do.

Je suis en train d'ecriver sur mon blog...

This is, I think, the first time I've written on a weekend. I don't know. It's Saturday right now, and I'm currently in the process of writing this entry, while simultaneously watching Mao play Tetris thingamagig on the SNES and waiting for John to finish dinner (emphasis added). In case you are wondering, the title of this post means, "I am in the middle of writing on my blog." Yep.

So, the rundown: let's see, since last time, I have gone to work three days. Lately (well, since I started working) I've been going in mostly in the mornings, then getting to leave in the afternoon since there's not much for me to do. There are two possible explanations for this: one, I'm just lazy and don't want to take on other things, or two, I work much more efficiently than either of my employers had expected. I think it's really some combination of the two, about equally split both ways.

In any case, yesterday (a.k.a. Friday) I got out of work around noon. I had to give a presentation to one of the senior groups in Millbrae in the morning, which went well...the group seemed to enjoy it and they gave me free eclairs! They were so good. The pastries in France will really be the death of me when I get there. But let's deal with that later. Alright, so after work, came home, sat around for a few hours, then Mirrielees went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. I just had to type the whole title, for the effect of it. In any case, it was an interesting movie; entertaining, in any case. Good? Well, I can't really say. So much of it was just hilariously absurd that I ended up having a good time. Which, when you come down to it, is the point of seeing a movie, is it not? Too often I feel people go to the movies looking to learn something new or to gain some new insight through the movie, but when it comes down to it, movies are about entertainment. They're about escapism and whatever emotion you want to feel when you see a movie. Last night for me that emotion or experience or whatever was just to have a good time, and Pirates did that for me. So, yes, I enjoyed it. (Though, on a side note, I do love it when a movie has some deep and insightful message, even if I don't agree with that message or idea. Sometimes I feel like insight, sometimes I lean more towards escapism. Blah.)

So, dear friends, we now find ourselves on today. Today, I got up at like 10:30, then had to take my car in to Pep Boys because, well, I discovered, driving to AMC Mercado last night, that I only had one functional headlight! Fortunately, I wasn't pulled over. But, I did have to go through the ordeal of driving to San Jose to find the nearest Pep Boys and waiting "2" (it turned out to only take about 1, but John, Adrian & I had walked to Santana Row, so we didn't want to go back right away) hours for my car. In any case, got some new threads from Urban Outfitters (I feel they are fitting of the description threads) and am now, post-nap, sitting, typing this blog. Yep. It's been an exciting week, as you can tell. Just another episode in the extremely normal life of Reo. Alors, j'ai fini!

So Orange County...

So I went home for the weekend. It was, essentially, amazing. You never realize how much you miss a place, how much that place defines you, how much you want to go back to it and feel safe and at home every day. I already miss Orange County, which is really hard to explain, especially since Orange County (some of you may know it as the OC, an objectionable name) is basically the center of all things horrible. I felt so out of place, being the NorCal-ian that I have become over this past year. But still, it's home. It's the place where I can drive around freeways and feel like I can actually drive, the place where I can go to the beach because it's only 15 minutes away, and, most importantly, the place where the friends I grew up with are, the friends who mean so much to me I would go home just to see them, even if I never saw the rest of the county.

In any case, on Sunday the amigos and I had a bonfire at Huntington Beach, which, as always, was good times. Bonfires are like the culmination of everything in me that is Orange County. This one was special, though, because, well, all of us have just grown up so much. It was fun to chill and smoke a cigar in the twilight and lit by the reddish-glow of a burning blaze, to be offered a hookah by some nearby fire-admirers, and to go down to the ocean late at night to see the glow of the moon or to, well, be one with the ocean...if that makes any sense. I stayed up sunday night until like 4AM, as I had Saturday night, just for the heck of it, just 'cause Vincent and Jason and I are basically inseperable when you get us together.

So yeah, I had a great time. Got to relieve a little bit of the longing that I was having to get back home. You know, it's strange how many times home can redefine itself in your lifetime. Maybe not redefine, so much as add more locations that you can call home. For me, home is Orange County, home is Stanford, home is the L.A. Basin, home is the Bay Area - and, in a few months, I'm hoping home will also be Paris. I carry a little piece of each everywhere I go, and that's why each one is home. That's why I am so Orange County, whether or not I want to be.

(This post is dedicated to Hannah, who is rediscovering her home in Latin America, and who insists that I update. Hehe.)

His name is Reo and he dances in the sand...

So, today has been an interesting day, to say the least. Courtney and I went to SF Pride, which was fun...lot's of gay people in one place. It's nice to see what the community really is, you know, instead of the Stanford Bubble's exceedingly exclusive community. I had an interesting realization, though, when I was there. It was like a real, actual, realization that I am part of this community, you know, that I don't have to act it or dress it or talk it or look it, but, deep down, I am it. Just like everyone else there. Ok, well, it's idealistic and naive, maybe, of me to say that...but it's true. I've never really felt like I fit into the community, mostly because I'm so so so so so so so focused on being an individual and never being a stereotype. But in the end, stereotypes are really just a first step to finding your individuality and identity...right?

So yeah, that was fun. Enlightening, if you will. I'm glad, I think, to say that I belong to a sexual minority, because it just makes life so much...I don't know, something. You get a better perspective on everything, a more open mind, and so on.

In any case, just got done watching Latter Days, the movie about the gay mormon missionary. If you haven't seen it, you really should check it out. It's a great sappy gay love story...and equally as corny as the description I just provided sound. SO GOOD! I wish I could meet a gay mormon. Yeah, not gonna happen. But I like the whole everything-is-interconnected/ God-is-sending-you-messages-in-everything/ fate-is-leading-you-to-your-destiny message the movie had. I know it's cheesy, but sometimes, I really just want to buy into that bull. Just believe that everything I do, every thing I believe, everything I see, every choice I make is leading me to one place...which is the love of my life. I'm such a hopeless romantic sometimes.

Alright, so, concluding remarks: pride is fun if your gay/lesbian/trans/queer, more fun if you are already part of the community (or have a boyfriend/date/whatever); the enlightenment is coming, just wait; and the LDS community is a huge, untapped pool of gay men. Oh, and, my name is Reo and I'm dancing in the sand, just like that river twisting through a dusty land...

The Unbearable Hotness of Being (my apologies to Kundera)

It is soooo incessantly hot. It's been, like, the first two days of summer, and, well, summer's here with a bang. I can't stand the heat, it just makes me want to go home and lie around in my underwear, but, of course, that's not always easy, especially when you're working the 9-5.

In any case, if anyone knows where the AC is, or how to replace scorching heat with sleet, snow, and rain, let me know. Whoever came up with the concept of summer, well, let's just say they didn't have their thinking cap on when they made it.

Sun, sun go away
Come again some other day...or never.

The Working Man

So, I started work today. It was a great time. I have a commute! And an apartment! And a credit card! And I'm buying my own laptop, with my own money! And...well, that's about it. But, you know, working man style.

I've moved into the apartment in Mirrielees, with my three roommates (one of which is not here) - Adrian, John, and Eric, and our temporary guest - Abel. It's good times, we had home-cooked burgers for dinner tonight. Which might sound bad, but consider our dinner last night of...you guessed it! PIZZA! We are real college students now.

Anyway, then this morning, at the UNGODLY hour of 7:00AM I got up, to get ready for my morning commute. I was out the door around 8, and, thanks to their being no traffic (and the really annoying and boring shows that plague so many radio stations) I was there in about 35 minutes. Which is surprising, considering I felt lost for about half of the trip. But, turns out I know my way around.

Then, after working for a few hours in the morning, I went to downtown (in my proper working-man attire: an olive green dress shirt and pleated khakis) to have lunch at Round Table...yes, more pizza. But actually, I got a sandwhich. Still.

In any case, on the way home, I stopped by the supermarket, got a few things for the family (and myself) and came home. Then, a bunch of us (me, Adrian, Eric, Courtney) went and got a ton of food (well, not a ton, but still) and came back and got dinner. Then I went down the street (I'm really psyched to be able to drive around this campus) to visit Courtney (who had left one of her grocery bags behind from the earlier trip) and to watch the end of The Wedding Date with Mao! It was good times. Really, driving is the way to go on this campus. I would avoid driving only if we had an underground subway system really, which would then be just as fast. but, well, that's not gonna happen any time soon.

So, now, here I am. Staring out my window at people carrying grocery bags to their room. Damn it feels good to be a yuppy!

Welcome

This is the true story of one stranger
Picked to live abroad and have his life blogged
Find out what happens, when people stop being normal
And start being...REO!

The Reo World, Stanford 2 Paris

(Thanks to Nick for the inspiration to this entry.)