Untangle the Cobwebs!Cast off the Shackles! Up and AWAY!

if only things were this blatant

As Monkee so eloquently stated LAST November:

“November is cuddling time”

Since there has been a blatant lack of cuddling in the past couple months due to the fact that I live in a detention center in a town populated by the aged or infants, I’ve spent the past week in hibernation in my room, curled under 5 blankets, and watching hours upon hours of the same season and the same episodes of Arrested Development, while sipping hot mint tea and eating oranges that I buy fresh (not really) frol Auchaun.

This means two things: 1) I have been sleeping an appaling amount, and 2) I’m a phantom to my roomates.

Well.

Enough I say. This morning I woke up to gray skies and drizzles, and threw off the blankets, head foggy from 13 hours of sleep, and ran into the kitchen to make coffee. I mean. I work 12 hours a week. There is no excuse why I shouldn’t have time to take my medicine regularly, read some books, and write some stories for chissakes.

My newfound enthusiasm could not come at a better time. I often forget that striking is France’s second favorite pastime, behind taking their sweet time to do everything, which, come to think of it, is probably why they strike so often.

Anyways. There’s a teacher’s strike starting Nov. 20th, which I have no intention to partake in, even though I could protest my rough 12 hour week where I rarely have to plan or do anything except speak in my native language. This strike apparently comes on the heels of an unfavorable bill that Sarkozy (ever popular among the Fench), that would entitle teachers to fewer benifits. And while I like protesting and striking as much as the next person, and while I would love to show some solidarity with my co-workers, I choose not to because a)I’m poor and b) well im poor. Nevertheless Michèle sent me a message today informing me that Jean-Pierre would probably be on strike tommorrow, so I would be doing some alternative work.

Anyways I promised a recap on seeing Delay play on Saturday:

outside La Mirotail

Cassi's friend, Camille

One thing that still boggles my mind is that Delay got people to DANCE.

And really I could go on and on about how good it was to see these guys, except it wouldn’t be interesting to anybody but myself.

As usual, I lost track of time and didn’t even get a chance to take a picture of them, because I was too busy taking pictures of everything else. Needless to say, it made my week to see them- I had forgotten how nice it is to see Columbus faces.

Stinkhaus's twin

outside

The show was played at small residence near Pere LaChaisse, and had been squatted in for the past 9 years. And while France has quite an affinity for underground music, there’s been a lack house shows, so I was surprised to walk back to the kitchen with Jesse to see a table laid out with vegetarian stew and brownies- to the point where I though I was in Columbus for a second.

Jesse said the red carpet had been rolled out for them in Europe, and that they’d been wined and dined nightly as well as (gasp!) on the recieving end of real beds with (double gasp!) real mattresses. Apparently these places get American bands so rarely that when they do, they shower them with some real European hospitatly. Nevertheless it was good to se Ryan, Austin, and Jesse. They’ll be missed.