"I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end."

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62602172012-01-24T21:12:03.138-05:00"I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end." - Margaret ThatcherZannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07749173866469790074noreply@blogger.comBlogger6191100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-45928602255119162982011-09-19T21:52:00.002-04:002011-09-19T22:28:05.370-04:00"You cheated!" "Pirate."

When I was teaching English to a bunch of French teenagers, I usually did at least one Talk Like A Pirate Day. It was never in September, what with the school year not really even starting until October. It was how I taught the kids the correct pronunciation of the American R. I found that a Frenchie trying to do a pirate RRRRR ends up sounding like an actual Anglophone, rather than a Frenchie

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07749173866469790074noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-46025185170436471802011-08-24T21:53:00.004-04:002011-08-24T23:26:24.118-04:00"But regardless of what weapons they try to use to effect silence, words will always retain their power."

When I was going to school in Paris, I would regularly have these dreams where I was attending graduate school in English. When I got distracted in the BNF, my daydreams would usually involve making comments in class without the ten minutes of double-checking grammar in my head that meant I never actually made comments in class. (I generally confined my speaking to conversations prior to class

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07749173866469790074noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-31437501808184289752011-08-18T22:58:00.012-04:002011-08-24T22:49:09.277-04:00"In the Schrute family, we believe in the five-fingered intervention: awareness, education, control, acceptance and punching."

I got a student ID today. We moved to Illinois so Dave could go to school, and I had planned to get a job, because, you know, what else was I going to do? Well, it turned out that cornfield-based university towns in central Illinois are sort of short on jobs. About the time I got sick of sending out resumes, I remembered that just because I had quit my job and moved twice in six months because

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-33419249373086002552011-07-28T23:17:00.007-04:002011-08-08T15:49:21.672-04:00"Well, couldn't they have found a nicer way of putting it? Like relaxed or unhurried? Relaxed, laidback sperm I can handle, but sluggish?" *

Dave and I spent a month traveling around visiting family, and seconds before we left my parents' place in Utah in the middle of May to actually MOVE to Illinois, my mom shoved a magazine in my hand and mentioned that there was an article I needed to read, plus said issue was a first for a friend. The article was entitled "Infertility: When Children Don't Come Easily." I can't say I loved the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-82131522051545402132011-06-23T23:10:00.005-04:002011-08-08T15:44:46.311-04:00"So, for my genealogy report, I decided to write on my great-great-grandfather, Captain Archibald Witwicky, who was a famous man."

Dave is gone for AT, and since I don't know anyone here yet, I've spent the two weeks scanning something like 800 old family photographs. One of my favorite musty boxes was full of pictures from when my grandma Helen (who I never met, as she died from MS complications in 1973) served in the Army near Marburg, Germany for a year. She was a nurse. Most of the pictures were unlabeled, and she was

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-70532866614231212492011-05-31T12:37:00.000-04:002011-08-08T15:43:59.336-04:00"April come she will, when streams are ripe and swelled with rain. May, she will stay, resting in my arms again."

A few things from the past two months, in chronological order - The cemetery at Andersonville: Hiking at Pine Mountain with Jen and Quinn Whitley City, KY - this little hamlet is on the Tennessee border, in the hollers of the Appalachians, and... it's... exactly like it is on TV. This was Dave's first area on his mission; he was here for eight months. The street names were interesting,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-23385255560914576012011-04-04T16:44:00.007-04:002011-04-04T17:21:25.097-04:00"It moves so fast. It's like hockey with words."

So it would seem like I'm not spending too much time online, but really I'm just not writing. I've been working on a long post for a while now, and one day I'll get back to regular posting, but... not yet, I guess. Still reading blogs, though. For example, I sliced off a piece of my index finger on Friday night, so doing anything to my hair that required liquids wasn't going to work. Once I'd

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-50455214796324864972011-03-28T13:57:00.000-04:002011-04-04T17:11:56.644-04:00"I don't negotiate with terrorists. I smoke them out of their hidey-holes."

Dave is on the verge of finishing his training course, which he is VERY excited about. I'm excited to have fewer beyond-stinky socks in the house. This photo is from their culminating training exercise, a coordinated operation involving the entire company (161 soldiers). Dave is at the edge of the woods, behind the ravine. The spouses (well, wives really, since the infantry is all men) got to

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-80588118973318763122011-02-28T23:09:00.005-05:002011-02-28T23:25:02.291-05:00"Now you've gotten me kicked out of a funeral. Just add it to the list. Kicked out of PetSmart, kicked out of Santa's Village, kicked out of the

Salvation Army..." I've been working on a few things lately, hence the lack of posting, but I thought I'd share a little update in the meantime. The developer of our apartment complex was here this afternoon fixing something, and he mentioned that the Dumb Neighbors had been evicted. And when he'd asked the manager why, she said that there were more reasons than she could list before the close

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-72216495953332274812011-01-30T22:45:00.006-05:002011-01-31T00:25:42.705-05:00"In case you haven't noticed - which you haven't, 'cause from what I can tell, you don't notice anything ever - we are not very functional when

we're high." I had no idea that I had turned in to a Mr. Heckles-esque neighbor. Well, sort of. See, we live in this fairly small apartment complex northeast of Fort Benning. It's brand new, and after a couple of months, only ten of 36 units are occupied. One of the units is occupied by a couple of guys who are some of the most magnificently stupid people I've ever met. So, let's start with the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-36007601113666925382011-01-25T22:33:00.002-05:002011-01-25T22:45:39.496-05:00"Yes, you will be in hell, but I will feel better having you there. That is what a relationship is. We average our misery."

Dave is the field, likely wet and freezing. It's been cold and rainy all day, but I've been all toasty warm except for a 5-mile walk/jog this evening. Even that comes nowhere close - it isn't living entirely out of doors for 96 hours. I've spent my day cleaning and cooking and burning my fingertips with hot glue. I still haven't figured out how I got here, to Army Wife, when I was so recently

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-59777961169922966022010-12-29T14:20:00.003-05:002010-12-29T15:16:32.769-05:00"Aunt Clara had for years labored under the delusion that I was not only perpetually 4 years old, but also a girl."

It's remarkable how difficult it is to get back into the habit of doing things, isn't it? I've started so many posts over the past month, but none have come out properly. Thus - no posting. Anyway... I don't really have anything of importance or even interest to post. At the moment I'm listening to the CD "Santa" put into my stocking a few days ago, enjoying some downtime with Dave. We're in

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-56702679311828769862010-11-30T20:06:00.005-05:002011-01-25T15:35:29.039-05:00"See, I did join the army, but I joined a different army. I joined the one with the condos and the private rooms. "

So. We're in Georgia. Settled, sort of -- we even finally got our internet hooked up. Dave is already is bed, as he will be up at 3:45 am for a 4:45 report time. You know, it's that sort of thing that makes me glad I'm not the one in the military. So what am I doing here? NOT having a job, mostly. It's only been a couple of days but I've been enjoying it, and I'm fairly certain I'll enjoy

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-55358154704606061672010-10-08T17:11:00.002-04:002010-10-10T02:42:13.239-04:00"Okay, would ya mind, just skip to the end." "To... the very end? 'For a while.'"

Obviously, it's been ages and ages since I last posted anything, and even longer since I last posted with any regularity. But! It's time for that to change, and so... posts. And we're starting out small, with a bunch of pictures from the wedding to which I alluded in my last post. Enjoy -- and check back soon for actual, regular updates.Title Quote

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-84186246148571706022010-09-01T14:00:00.003-04:002010-10-09T01:15:40.932-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-35514935510011926632010-08-01T14:00:00.002-04:002010-10-09T01:15:22.793-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-55987151473080482752010-07-01T14:00:00.003-04:002010-10-09T01:14:58.541-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-55845619194955135812010-06-01T14:00:00.002-04:002010-10-09T01:14:39.339-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-2654846371266622062010-05-01T14:00:00.003-04:002010-10-09T01:14:21.348-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-9143792425241671662010-04-01T14:00:00.004-04:002010-10-09T01:14:01.945-04:00

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-45942842255182717972010-03-31T10:56:00.006-04:002010-03-31T11:52:48.904-04:00"To have a reason to get up in the morning, it is necessary to possess a guiding principle."

I got married last Friday. Which means that I've also moved. (Also, this means I may start blogging more; look what lucky readers you all are.) Having moved means my commute to work is from a different direction. See, we're now living in Salt Lake City itself, which is a well-known bastion of heathens and/or liberals. I mean, Dooce herself lives in my 'hood, so if that's not a Pinko Credential

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-27372045618809799372010-02-23T11:01:00.003-05:002010-03-31T11:26:27.477-04:00"This is hockey. It's not rocket surgery."

I have convinced Dave to like hockey, what with the non-overly-complicated rules and the fast pace without cheap goals and the fighting. Also, the fighting.Woo-hoo.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-21838804892850040212010-01-18T15:52:00.008-05:002010-01-18T16:50:21.181-05:00"Mandrake, have you ever seen a Commie drink a glass of water?"

So I don't normally do these sorts of things, but since I've all but quit blogging altogether, I figured I'd do this if only so I've got something to post - so thanks, Sara.1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before? I paid taxes TO the French government, and didn't just reap benefits. Also, I drank the water in Morocco. After getting scrubbed down and semi-groped by a large number

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-68571733456371371412009-12-30T16:23:00.001-05:002010-01-18T15:55:39.233-05:00"Manny, I don't feel that well. I... sa... Like I've been beaten up underwater. I can feel bits of my brain falling away like a wet cake. Could you

help me?" Can one have a sick day (or, say, sick month[s]) from one's blog? I really will get back to this eventually...Title Quote

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-61154756766790060962009-11-24T19:01:00.002-05:002009-11-24T19:08:18.399-05:00"And now a man who needs no introduction, so what am I doing out here?"

I'm still working on my upcoming monthly report, but I encountered this today, and loved it so much that I simply had to share:

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-33654047534470274822009-10-31T13:49:00.003-04:002009-11-02T18:17:46.193-05:00"Everybody should be able to make some music! It's the cosmic dance."

So I know this post is ridiculously later than it should have been, what with all of my promises. But, I have a thing for patterns, and a Last Day Of The Month pattern is better than no pattern at all, right?In the past month I've taken a couple of trips, first to Paris and then to California - specifically, Disneyland. Let's start with a mini-report on Paris. Paris was first founded on the Île

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-48874598865715401942009-09-30T11:24:00.003-04:002009-09-30T18:07:03.563-04:00"Half-10! Half-10. I've never been up at half-10. What happens?"

I know I've been slacking on ye olde blog, but after writing so much, and then finding other things to fill my time, blogging just hasn't been a priority. I'll try to do better, especially since I'll be going back to Paris next week, and I'm sure three months away from my hometown will give me fresh eyes for the crazy. Despite my silence, I should point out that things have been going

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-58354382891720830662009-08-29T19:23:00.004-04:002009-08-31T10:32:27.467-04:00It is finished.

Well, for now. I still have to get my advisor's notes on it and then defend it, but for now? Finished.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-47373949758983753282009-08-23T23:16:00.005-04:002009-08-24T00:07:00.861-04:00"My decorator was Michelangelo. Thanks for the wheat."

Is there anything better than listening to Johnny Cash and a-ha harp covers on a quiet Sunday evening? (Really, check this guy out. He named his harp Gladys. ...one more link in case you were waiting for the fourth one to click through. Or fifth.) On a completely different topic, I realized today just how desperate my current living situation is. My parents have been back in Chicago for the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-21054238641045822192009-08-13T20:41:00.002-04:002009-08-13T21:38:21.564-04:00"Stephen Hawking both British and not dead."

I believe this is the part where my now-standard apology goes, 'cause I haven't been writing much and all, but honestly, how much do you really want to hear about how I'm still not done with my thesis and I kind of hate it a lot? I'll be finished REALLY soon, but then, that's what I've been saying for weeks. Since I still need to find a job and being socially AWOL is starting to get to me and I

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-86205046992623882102009-07-31T14:10:00.002-04:002009-07-31T22:27:01.445-04:00"The day I give up my dreams is the day I have strategic grill locations."

I keep having bizarre dreams. Dreams that involve flying cars and old boyfriends. Mostly the flying cars, though. Do you have any idea how cool it is to be flying through downtown Chicago in a golfcart/SmartCar hybrid in the early morning, avoiding all that rush hour traffic? Also, make sure you pull up enough that you don't run into the Corncob Buildings. And then, when you come home (in

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-49818252507882837212009-07-24T16:48:00.002-04:002009-07-25T01:13:51.799-04:00"To me, you are the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoon."

I know it's been forever since my last post, but I'm trying desperately to finish my thesis, so I've been using all of my writing energy on that. Since I've gotten several requests for an update, I thought that tonight might be time, especially after I spent twelve minutes trying to think of the word "influential."You know, I feel like I have no concept of time. Before I came back to the States,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-37357902586484238752009-06-23T17:02:00.004-04:002009-06-23T19:13:14.616-04:00"I took a risk when I hired you, Manny - don't eat muffins when I'm developing you - I took a risk when I gave you this job. A lot of people would

have said 'who is this rudderless hippy? How do I get away from him? Has he got a hunting knife strapped to his shin?' But I saw through that." First, let's start with what I hope will be my last installment of Getting Hit On In The Metro. So this morning I'm on the way back from running errands, on the escalator up from the quai, when this guy walks by me, checks me out so blatantly that he's

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-87238501663887937592009-06-22T17:09:00.002-04:002009-06-22T18:11:38.891-04:00"After talking things over, we have decided not to take part in your diabolical plan. Consider us no longer in cahoots.

Furthermore, we are going to expose you to everybody." I've been taking care of all kinds of things today in preparation for my impending departure, and I'm honestly a bit shocked at how relatively painless it's all been. In order to open these accounts I had to provide my right pinkie toe and a contract for my first-born child, signed in blood, and considering how much I've not enjoyed dealing

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-22317521940251835252009-06-20T14:07:00.001-04:002009-06-20T18:18:56.176-04:00"Fruit on the bottom, hope on top."

My parents flew out this morning, after a week full of togetherness. 24/7 for a week - we spent three nights in my teeny apartment here in Paris, and four nights on a long road trip. I think overall, I'd have to say that the week was really all about incredible food. Every meal we had was just... amazing. Creative and interesting and full of asparagus. And apparently I've become more French

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-48334535840982970512009-06-10T16:10:00.004-04:002009-06-11T03:26:26.186-04:00"That's why I said 'oh.' It was an attempt to corral those words back into my mouth."

Words o' the Day (because I'm pulling an all-nighter and I need something to keep my mind sort of occupied as I vomit out pages of gunk):limnsobriquetmenarchelumpenproletariatvitiateperquisitedropsyOh my. It's almost 9:30 am, and unless we're counting a power nap at 3 (which I'm not, since I need 9+ hours a night, not twenty minutes) I've been up working alllllll night. As I'm now going to take

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-12667579130139053812009-06-07T14:08:00.001-04:002009-06-07T16:00:12.000-04:00"The judges may have been confused when you ad-libbed the phrase, "Catholics and other people of color.'"

I've been here in Paris for a while - almost three years - and in that time, I've tried to assimilate in a lot of ways. Well, maybe not so much assimilate or even fit in as much as just not stick out like a sore thumb, a desire which increased the more I Got Hit On In The Metro. And yet, today and yesterday I was reminded just how much I don't really belong here (even if I do wear scarves).

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-38905619093966515322009-05-25T17:09:00.003-04:002009-05-25T18:30:40.948-04:00"What for you bury me in the cold, cold ground?"

Sometimes there are bright sides to being really sick, even though you've got less than two weeks to finish your master's thesis and you're so pressed for time that the idea of buying functional lungs on the black market is seeming less and less stupid. Hmm. Maybe just borrowing a pair.Anyway, the bright side of having walking pneumonia and wishing for death: since you're lying in bed all day,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-20914337594346953502009-05-21T15:54:00.007-04:002009-05-21T17:39:53.251-04:00"I will not voluntarily put on the chains of France while struggling to throw off those of Great Britain!"

As I type this, I'm wearing only a scarf. I think this might mean I have become more French than is good for me.See, I have a nasty case of bronchitis, and prior to finally going to see my doctor yesterday and getting antibiotics and cough syrup and an inhaler to open my poor bronchi (which, if I had paid for completely out of pocket, would have been 22€ for the visit, and another 20€ for the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-50969025392804919412009-05-03T17:16:00.005-04:002009-05-03T18:34:27.822-04:00"Plastic cups for two, Electric Boogaloo."

Today is my bestest friend's wedding anniversary so it's, you know, a good day and all, but it's also James Brown's birthday. So, Em, for your and Stevie's anniversary, and for all people who use the number two followed by "Electric Boogaloo" just because of the Breakin' sequel without knowing anything about what you're actually saying, let the Godfather of Soul teach you all about the boogaloo:

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-88874730374602941372009-04-28T16:01:00.003-04:002009-04-28T17:27:22.912-04:00"I've had it with these monkey-fighting snakes on this Monday-to-Friday plane!"

So I just spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out if I'd blogged about this friend I had last spring, to whom I referred as My Roommate Who Doesn't Live Here, in hopes that I wouldn't have type it all now. Alas, my blogging those months was less than thorough. Anyway, at an Easter conference, I met this American guy who had just arrived and was here for a couple of months to improve his

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-14997674175299974382009-04-23T09:49:00.007-04:002009-04-24T09:45:49.285-04:00"Do you know what he did? He watched me work for 10 minutes, and then started to design a simple piece of software that could replace me."

"Is that even possible?" "As it turns out, yes." I live in a hermetically sealed bubble.Not intentionally, mind you. And it's been a quite recent development. Last week, they started putting up this scaffolding on a building across the way, as they're apparently going to resurface it. Because my street is narrow, that means the workers are roughly fifteen feet away from my fourth floor (fifth

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-52435125663961140522009-04-18T14:37:00.003-04:002009-04-18T15:09:09.074-04:00De gustibus non est disputandum.

Due to medication-related issues, I've got this raging headache that promises to get worse. In a few hours, I'll start to get a lightheaded-esque sensation, roving all over my body, which is horrendous but also makes me contemplate what tripping might have been like. This is one of the main reasons I generally prefer to avoid drugging myself regularly. I'm not really sure why I bring this up; it

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-69078692031572492192009-04-06T16:13:00.006-04:002009-04-06T16:42:58.402-04:00"So here's some advice I wish I would have got when I was your age: live every week like it's Shark Week."

I've been more than a little tied up with my thesis - gotta earn it if I want to be Mistress Zannah, right? - but I thought I'd share this picture with you all, since it's been disturbing me lately and, well, why keep something disturbing to yourself? I got it in the mail, and it's full of useful phone numbers and stuff, and I know the Bastille is the most recognizable landmark in the quartier,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-84790952888073341502009-03-27T18:54:00.001-04:002009-03-27T20:47:33.652-04:00"We're not saying anything new here. We're just saying the same things that need to be said again and again with fierce conviction."

You know how some moms occasionally (often?) get so tied up with caring for their families that finding the time to shower seems beyond impossible? I suspect that should I ever have progeny, a shower won't be the issue, but rather, managing to put on pants will be my own personal laurel wreath.Reason #157 I don't gamble: I believe it would be statistically impossible to have a worse bracket than

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-72470935608466456332009-03-23T17:11:00.000-04:002009-03-23T18:17:51.214-04:00"I'm sick of you being so dark when I'm so impish and whimsical!"

So I'd really intended to write the whhhhole Marrakesh story (scrubbed like a monkey!) today, but I got caught up researching a lovely last-minute trip for next week, and then talking to my mom, so I never got around to it. As a consolation prize, though, I've got a short video we took of the teeny streets in Marrakesh; it's part of the walk back from Djemaa el-Fma to our riad. Oddly enough,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-42278055594530396702009-03-19T17:19:00.003-04:002009-03-19T19:45:23.920-04:00

I really am working on a full report of my two full days in Marrakesh, but I've been a bit preoccupied with my thesis and figuring out what I'm gonna do for the next few years once I finish this horrid thing. But, since I know at least a few of you like to know the end from the beginning, here's a picture from the end of Sunday night; I promise to give you the whole story as soon as I can.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-75108193120831932612009-03-16T15:17:00.004-04:002009-03-16T15:26:22.114-04:00"My jet is too loud. Waah. My gold shoes are too tight. Waaah."

Salam alikoum.I've been back from Morocco only a couple of hours, and... I'm feeling kind of emotional about the whole thing. I fell in love with it all, and had some amaaaazing experiences. In fact, yesterday I pretty much went native with this wonderful family who lives sort of on the outskirts of the old Medina. Frankly, I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it, so more

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-24022288852593580652009-03-14T18:03:00.000-04:002009-03-14T19:25:37.489-04:00"I'm not an eight-cow wife - I'm a 4000-camel wife!"

I'm so beyond tired right now, after being run ragged by all kinds of "ultra-helpful" people here. On the bright side, we were hit on less by random dudes on the street ("fish and chips!"), but on the down side, Sara got more than a few offers for me. I think the lowest was something like 1500 MAD of silver jewelry, but the high offer involved four thousand camels. I took a bunch of pictures,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-72692471069447460762009-03-13T18:07:00.004-04:002009-03-13T18:49:53.918-04:00"One-one-seven is your ticket to heaven!"

So I'm finally in Marrakech, after weeks and months and years of wanting to come to Morocco, and I'm in love. The riad we're staying at is teeny and peaceful, like an oasis amidst the bustling insanity, like visiting old friends who are wonderful hosts and won't let you do the dishes. Honestly, I'm beyond relaxed here; if you ask me about school, I will cut you. Dinner was fabulous, I took a nap

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-59415333244595044432009-03-10T17:08:00.003-04:002009-03-10T17:28:42.261-04:00

If you manage to forget that your friend is coming in on Tuesday, not Thursday, and so she wakes you up when she calls you from the airport, you'd best hope that you've also managed to choose a friend who is wonderfully laid back and forgiving and excited to be in a taxi with leather seats.Just a tip.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-32635306043774214672009-03-06T08:55:00.002-05:002009-03-08T16:26:44.265-04:00"I know this sounds like the insane ramblings of a syphilitic brain. Do we go nuclear?"

Theoretically, there aren't many things that I hate. Orange juice with excessive pulp. Being forced to listen Americans speaking French for long periods of time. Apostrophe abuse.Unfortunately, I think I'm finally to the point where I add my neighbor to that list. I'm Christian, and I'm pretty sure that one of the defining characteristics of being Christian involves *not* hating your neighbor,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-23351164142965617732009-03-04T16:25:00.006-05:002009-03-05T08:21:48.226-05:00"Where'd you learn artificial respiration?" "French class, kid."

I've lived in Paris for almost three years, and over that time I've had a bit of experience dating Frenchmen. Due to our dumb English slang (not that the French slang for the same thing is any better... emballer? really?), it's inevitable that people (Americans mostly, for obvious reasons) are curious about French-style French kissing.So, let's address that question. I've snogged (at least

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-30552853737041949492009-03-03T15:58:00.002-05:002009-03-03T19:58:32.835-05:00

Time does not exist today. It is apparently around 10 pm, but I'm really unsure what happened between: the moment when I woke up writing lines of my thesis in my head (in English, unfortunately) and decided that I would work from home today because going to the library required doing my hair and finding a bra, and everything running through my mind wouldn't wait that long; and the moment when I

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-45783030455856152822009-02-24T15:31:00.002-05:002009-02-24T18:29:32.029-05:00"The first thing a Cry-Baby girl learns: our bazooms are our weapons!"

I know I've mentioned this, but it's time for a bit more detail. See, I love where I live (the quartier, not the drawerless shoebox), and who wouldn't? We've got places like Cupcakes and Co. (avoid the cupcakes, but revel in the cheesecake), and vacant lots with the murals of castmembers from Rocky III: I've got great restaurants and little shops all over the place, and even a Starbucks within a

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-36891492560070464312009-02-18T16:49:00.000-05:002009-02-18T19:57:52.243-05:00"Does the female form make you uncomfortable, Mr. Lebowski?"

Tonight, I was on a date during which the most awkward point was *not* when I referred to marriage as the Final Solution. It's no rape of Nanking joke, but it's still competently inappropriate, is it not?

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-20346912178566305922009-02-16T17:49:00.004-05:002009-04-23T10:34:26.709-04:00"When? Since I spent the night tied up in the backseat of your car!"

Been a few days, hasn't it? Part of that has been the fact that I've been utterly obsessed with the weather, and I was kinda guessing that we'd already hit the point where my discussion of the weather was boring. Seriously, though... I need a bit of blue sky. There hasn't been a ton to write about, really. Umm... I bought a baguette one day, and it didn't have salt. At first I thought my

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-37054268490370204012009-02-07T09:20:00.002-05:002009-02-07T09:28:25.198-05:00

It is currently snowing in Paris, or at least it is right outside my windows. It's not sticking, but it is falling, and I suppose I'm supposed to think it's all pretty and whatever, but mostly it makes me think a) that I'm glad I have a paper to work on here at home, and secondly, that I am soo ready to live in a place without winter. Sigh. What happened to my beautiful days? Paris, you're

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-82075988981827044732009-02-06T16:26:00.006-05:002009-02-06T19:26:51.322-05:00"We are still insisting, emphatically, that violence is self-defeating."

Do you ever suddenly look up and realize that you haven't moved in the last three hours, and somehow it became 10 pm? I'm craving pineapple, and I have a pineapple, but I'm too lazy to actually cut it up. Yesterday, the weather was GORGEOUS. It made my heart soar. The sky was blue, and it was warmish, and I wanted to take a picture of all the bits of blue sky above my street, but I didn't

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-2637990190648598762009-02-05T15:43:00.002-05:002009-02-05T15:48:43.502-05:00

You know what I love? Sleep.Because of that, all of the things rolling around in my head won't be posted until tomorrow, but I promise it will only be until tomorrow.Bonne nuit, mes amis.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-43017314896458120302009-02-02T16:13:00.003-05:002009-02-02T20:32:09.820-05:00"It's just the thunderstorm. Heat lightning. It's sexy."

I've been home for three weeks now, and I just today finished putting away everything I brought back with me. ...now if I could just manage to write the one non-thesis paper that is all of my coursework for this year.Also, it was gross and rainy and cold today, and I hated it. I used to like the cold; I'd have to, being from Chicago. I mentioned a little while ago how one of the reasons I'm

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-46697257379237755382009-02-01T15:13:00.004-05:002009-02-01T16:24:13.395-05:00"When you're dealing with the devil praise the Lord and pass the ammunition."

Random thoughts, or, Bullet Points Are Fun:When I first went to university I majored in acting, because I was both delusional and egotistical. Fortunately, failure knocked those out of me, or at least it did as those traits related to my goals as an actor. Every so often, though, I think back to this one audition. The film committee decided to make a repository of tapes so student directors

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-48190547499664220772009-01-29T15:32:00.003-05:002009-01-29T16:11:21.075-05:00"I've been hearing things from little birds. They been chirpin' in my ear. Saying Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike."

It's just 9:30 in the evening, and I'm all ready for bed, at the end of what was an oddly good day. Granted, any day is likely to be good if it starts out with one of your favorite people finally buying a ticket to come see you (after three years of promises) and the accompanying guarantee of spending a weekend in March lounging next to a pool in Marrakesh and fighting off gropers in the medina.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-74606756594575225542009-01-27T19:06:00.002-05:002009-01-27T19:10:41.400-05:00"Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy."

You know you want to read it.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-58475351182949771042009-01-27T06:49:00.003-05:002009-01-27T17:22:06.819-05:00"I will hug him, and stroke him, and cuddle him, and sing to him, and call him George."

It could be argued that you're spending too much time focused on history (although this is your field, so you can't really spend too much time focused on it) when you're skimming Go Fug Yourself and you wonder why they're referencing early 20th century political figures, until you remember that there's that band.Also, I realized today that I haven't had so much as a hug since I got back here,

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-33109773172793568002009-01-23T17:53:00.006-05:002009-01-23T18:21:55.430-05:00"That's quite pungent. It's a formidable scent. Stings the nostrils, in a good way."

The only really bad thing about my plans for tonight falling through: the two or three parties going on in my building, which means that everything smells faintly of hash. Of course, on the other hand, it's slightly more pleasant than the usual cigarette smoke.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-20471239395941606012009-01-21T14:57:00.005-05:002009-01-22T20:48:22.108-05:00"You know, if it was Flava Flav would I be proud? No."

After spending the bulk of the day yesterday watching CNN online, and tearing up at the national anthem, I went over to the 19th to attend a small inaugural party with some Frenchies and a few ex-pats. The decor was all stars-and-stripes-forever, with a flag given to our French host by Chris Dodd. Of course, no party would have been complete without the viral Shepard Fairey poster (and Anne of

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-70137531238157865942009-01-19T17:08:00.006-05:002009-01-20T20:54:47.480-05:00"It feels like a slap in the face, and not a Rhett Butler slap. An Ike Turner slap."

Today was unusual in that my typically odoriferous neighbor was roasting some kinda meat (she's Brazilian) and so the wafting actually smelled good for once. This inspired me to pop across the street to one of my favorite places, Estelle's Cafe, to pick up dinner. The decor isn't too far from what I would do if I had my own resto, and the food is good and natural, often veggie (sometimes hard

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-33489560067546575312009-01-17T16:33:00.003-05:002009-01-18T11:17:34.303-05:00"My Commodore 64 has more memory than you, and it runs on bong water..."

So, I've lived in the same apartment since I moved to Paris two and a half years ago. There are a lot of things I love about my place - my street, the neighborhood, proximity to stuff, the fact that the building was remodeled right before I moved in. And for Paris, the apartment itself is pretty great. However, it's still pretty small - small enough to be one of the reasons that I'm getting

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-42718287111527684932009-01-14T16:20:00.002-05:002009-01-14T17:40:24.514-05:00"It's so hard finding obedient minions."

I've been back for a few days now, and I've been meaning to write - hell, I'm always *meaning* to write - but I still haven't unpacked my camera (or anything else, for that matter)(although I do have a few pictures I already pulled off, like this one of me and Marky Mark in front of my parents' Christmas tree after we had dinner next to two of the most uninformed people out on a first date; I'm

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-43446144009772966062008-12-25T15:02:00.001-05:002009-01-06T15:13:43.492-05:00Reasons I Come Back To The States For The Holidays, Part 8:

The fact that I have a niece who is the real-life version of the original Cindy Lou Who. I tried to get a video of her saying, "Santy Claus, where are you taking our Christmas tree?" but she's not terribly cooperative, what with being two and all. (And yes, I know this is backdated - although that is the date the picture was taken - and a sad excuse for a post, but I've been busy and I can't

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-35068477464534728472008-12-24T17:51:00.001-05:002008-12-25T02:03:15.108-05:00Reasons I Come Back To The States For The Holidays, Part 6:

My ridiculous(-ly fun and/or cheesy?) family, who does things like last-minute nativities, which means I end up dressing up as an angel with my niece. (Also, reason #7: the piano behind us, but we'll address that another day.)

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-39420735846975071032008-12-23T16:00:00.000-05:002008-12-24T19:22:01.340-05:00Reasons I Come Back To The States For The Holidays, Parts 3, 4, & 5:

It could be because my parents have a nice Festivus pole (which reminds me, today is the fifth anniversary of my complete singleness), or because I love my really adorable family, but today, it might be the fact that my bathroom here has a lovely shower, with wonderful pressure and hot water supplied by not one but two sixty-gallon water heaters, so I can take these long glorious showers that are

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-53095013078031533592008-12-22T16:34:00.002-05:002008-12-23T01:12:12.288-05:00Reasons I Come Back To The States For The Holidays, Part 2:

Antelope Island, or, the view from my parents' house

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-91184938278852275102008-12-21T17:03:00.001-05:002008-12-23T01:08:51.661-05:00Reasons I Come Back To The States For The Holidays, Part 1:

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-55497596382775315402008-12-20T17:21:00.000-05:002008-12-21T01:23:37.741-05:00

Another non-post? Oh yes. I'm afraid jet-lag does that to me. In other puking-related news, I believe I have joined the ranks of countless other caregivers, as this evening I actually caught my niece's vomit in my right hand. And yes, despite maaaaaany hand-washings, I am typing this left-handed.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-18220679792479090702008-12-19T00:25:00.000-05:002008-12-19T00:26:31.517-05:00

Please note what time it is; I have yet to go to sleep (trying to get a jumpstart on conquering jet lag) so I'm ridiculously tired. Leaving for the airport in an hour, thus, the next post will be stateside.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-7162997551236986772008-12-18T17:59:00.002-05:002008-12-18T20:00:21.045-05:00

Leaving for the States in seven and a half hours... is anyone else beyond ready for a vacation?

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-54054073989133901722008-12-17T16:36:00.002-05:002008-12-17T16:54:05.410-05:00

Right now I'm knitting my Holy Hell I'm Sick Of Being Cold! Scarf, to go with my Holy HELL I'm Sick Of Being Cold! Boots, so just a follow-up from yesterday: I got a texto from The Frenchie who handled my dossier for my carte de sejour renewal. It seems he snagged my number from said dossier, and asked me out for a drink. Apparently, the smiling strategy wasn't necessarily the best course of

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-56008213293942562522008-12-16T15:10:00.002-05:002008-12-17T16:35:57.361-05:00"What did you say, Paper Champion? I'll beat you like a dog, a dog, you fool!"

Let me take you back to December 5th, or The Day Zannah Puked In The Streets of Paris. I had an appointment to renew my carte de sejour (French residence card) that morning in the 15th, which is on the opposite side of the city. I'd started feeling cold-and-flu-y the night before, so that whole commute during rush hour thing wasn't so great, to say the least. I had to wait behind 20 or so

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-21015736255025755452008-12-15T14:29:00.003-05:002008-12-15T16:50:21.849-05:00"Ah, devil ether. It makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel."

I think my least favorite part of Creepster Conversations might just be the looks of pity from bystanders. Well, no - my least favorite part is the fact that it occurs at all, but the looks of pity don't make it any easier. Today's Creepster Conversation occurred on my very own metro line, when a 5-foot-tall mustachioed 60- or 70-something gets on the train and squeezes around a couple of

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-53575059095543987362008-12-14T16:18:00.002-05:002008-12-14T16:22:09.277-05:00"This is a farewell kiss, you dog!"

Is it just me, or does Bush have pretty quick reflexes? Going back to an earlier conversation, let's hope our next president's Men in Suits are a bit faster on the draw.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-65595713025166155972008-12-13T15:54:00.002-05:002008-12-13T20:27:57.577-05:00

Today's Creepy Man installment (would someone please figure out why this keeps happening to me?):I'm waiting at this bus stop a couple of blocks from chez moi, and it's icky and rainy, so I'm bundled up, hair in a braid, wearing a pretty covering hat. This clearly inebriated creepy old man of possible hobo status walks past me but after a few feet turns around and goes to stand in the doorway

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-20978365299215205842008-12-12T11:26:00.003-05:002008-12-12T17:35:12.541-05:00"This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions."

Today I was picking up my usual baguette from my favorite neighborhood boulangerie, where I've built up a pretty good rapport with the owner. We were talking about our plans for the holidays, and he was surprised to learn I was going to the US, because apparently for the last couple of years, he'd thought I was English and my American-ness came as... a bit of a disappointment, shall we say.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-17479548079873701862008-12-11T03:00:00.000-05:002008-12-11T03:00:01.098-05:00"William Collins tagged 7 of your friends in his note I Propose Myself the Satisfaction of Waiting on You and Your Family."

I don't use Facebook a ton. In fact, I've never even updated my status. Ever. However, I might start, after having read Austenbook, which is the entirety of Pride and Prejudice rendered in a Facebook news feed.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-64649018751994821142008-12-10T07:30:00.003-05:002008-12-10T18:54:22.892-05:00"If [Illinois] isn't the most corrupt state in the United States, it's certainly one hell of a competitor."

Let December 5th be known as The Day Zannah Puked In The Streets of Paris. December 7th was The Day Zannah Finished Making Her Family's Christmas Presents, December 9th was The Day Zannah Decided She Would Never Make A Good Socialist, and December 10th is The Day Zannah Started Blogging For 15 Consecutive Days.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-63689684479213693652008-12-08T16:35:00.000-05:002008-12-08T19:36:25.274-05:00"Just like that last prank about all those little creatures that multiply when you throw water on them?"

I just finished watching Gremlins for the first time, and I only have one question: why is this not on TV every Christmas? What with the 80s goodness, complete campiness, and alterna-Christmas-film possibilities, it makes no sense that this hasn't become a Festivus staple. Perhaps the camp doesn't stand up to repeated viewings, but who in their right mind wouldn't want to celebrate the holidays

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-65934478170079478482008-12-04T06:39:00.002-05:002008-12-04T06:44:45.860-05:00

Since I apparently now embed videos here, and this has been making me laugh, please enjoy The 12 Gays of Christmas. Also, I suspect that I'll be returning this evening with a bit of class-related rambling, if my earlier thoughts while reading assigned articles are any indication. C'est à dire: check back soon; it might not be a waste of time.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-20934249248013551202008-11-30T17:23:00.000-05:002008-12-01T17:28:05.214-05:00"Who is John Galt?"

You know, I have to wonder if I'm reading too much Ayn Rand when I see the most utterly beautiful factory from a bus window, and find myself literally marveling at the gorgeous functionality of it.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-22453959708206760302008-11-25T15:58:00.003-05:002008-11-25T16:05:30.804-05:00"There are exactly two trees, one of which is in a pot." "So is there any grass?" "I think I saw a bush once."

Since I've been spending the past few days listening to French academics ramble about things like 18th century publishers in Cologne using fake addresses, I haven't had time to blog. However, as penance, I give you... Sili-Sili. Please, keep the laughing to a dull roar.

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-23736888078593475692008-11-20T17:10:00.002-05:002008-11-20T18:21:05.372-05:00"Those prisons are leaking like a macrame diaphragm."

I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of evenings I've gone out during the past month, because I have turned into a recluse. I finally planned to go out tonight, to a meetup less than 5 minutes from my front door, but no... my lady parts didn't want to cooperate. I'm on drugs for the sole purpose of fixing my jacked up hormones, but clearly not working. Perhaps the French drugs

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-7032839409973446102008-11-19T14:32:00.003-05:002008-11-19T16:38:02.176-05:00"All right! I got my own stalker!" "You're so lucky; I have to share my stalker with five other guys at work."

It's days like today that make me wonder where my creepy-man-magnet is located. Sometimes, one could assume it would be right between those things that require me to double-up on sports bras when working out, but when you're wearing this twins-hiding jacket (and those exact same jeans, come to think of it) you've got to figure it's something else. No make-up, hair in a ratty bun, and I'm sort

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-15381242917943864282008-11-15T20:46:00.001-05:002008-11-15T20:51:43.118-05:00"I can't spend fifteen minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself."

Quick Tip : on those late nights when you're up at 3 am because the Germans on the second floor are throwing a very loud party and you've decided to work on your yoga headstand (because you have this misguided desire to somehow build up enough strength to do a handstand push-up) but since you're still an ultra beginner you're doing it against a wall, and since your apartment is less than 200

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-22274845666155783222008-11-15T15:42:00.006-05:002008-11-15T18:30:48.650-05:00Our "Getting Hit On In The Metro" feature hits a new level:

Today before rehearsal I was at the Montreuil marché with some of my fellow dancers to buy fabric for our saris, which meant lots and lots of wandering up and down these aisles between rows of stalls full of junk with your standard barkers. As a blondie at that particular part of the périphérique, I kind of stood out, perhaps, and the fact that the girls I was with today were all several inches

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-76166489803500770792008-11-11T15:58:00.007-05:002008-11-12T08:38:18.524-05:00"If you've ever wondered, wondered who wrote the book of love, it was us."

Do we recall the Bollywood dance I got sucked into doing a year+ ago? Well, apparently, my ward decided that we needed to have an entire Indian night, which means that once again I got sucked in because we're not only reprising the dance from before, but we're doing another, even LONGER dance. Today, on this lovely holiday, I spent more than four hours shaking my hips and attempting to

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-48597055326430619512008-11-10T17:40:00.002-05:002008-11-10T17:54:57.171-05:00

Is there anything better than dashing around Paris in the spitting rain trying to see as much of the city in 7 hours as is possible because your friend, on a business trip in London, is here for only that long, all followed by a late-night snack of ultra-healthy yogurt and a mini clementine, eaten while cuddled up in comfy flannel pjs? Really, it was fabulous. And now I'm going to bed. Coming

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-45572131602105031382008-11-07T16:57:00.002-05:002008-11-07T17:03:57.043-05:00

I'm once again not really in the mood for writing, but I thought I'd share this. It's a livestream of the bed of a litter of puppies - 6 of them, I think - and they're utterly adorable. If I could get a puppy that was both house-trained and would actually *stay* a puppy I don't think I'd mind one... Instead, I'll probably start my foray into the world of Crazy Cat Ladies once I get back to the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-90285969466450024422008-11-06T17:59:00.000-05:002008-11-06T18:35:09.215-05:00

I had a big old post planned, but I just finished not one, but two long conversations that were... at least somewhat emotionally exhausting. Thus, my description of my first days of classes and the apparently-not-one-eyed homeless guy and other things will have to wait. What won't wait, though, is mentioning that today is my Grandpa's 92nd birthday. We tend to live long lives in my family; I

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-40836320264325872932008-11-04T16:57:00.008-05:002008-11-04T18:22:31.737-05:00"Courtney, this is not a democracy, it's a cheerocracy. I'm sorry, but I'm overruling you."

So I know today is "that day," and while I've contributed to the online glut of election-related stuff, I'm electioned-out. I'm looking forward to waking up in the morning, watching the taped live show that Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert did tonight, and that being that. I'm looking forward to not listening to any more Democratic hand-wringing, but I'm not looking forward to listening to the

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6260217.post-78481260556363639122008-11-03T06:46:00.002-05:002008-11-03T10:17:34.905-05:00"The pus that infects the mucus that cruds up the fungus that feeds on the pond scum."

After having spent the last year or so manning the nursery at my ward (aka church congregation) by myself, they finally called (aka asked/assigned) someone else to do it too, which means that I'm no longer alone in trying to corral a bunch of snot-nosed little Frenchies. I should probably point out that when I say "snot-nosed," I mean that quite literally. I spend the majority of those two

Zannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13430010670872460198noreply@blogger.com1