The Daisy Vodka

Despite my not actually having a job and not even blogging, I've been very busy lately. Régis and I have acquired a wok, a grill, a tarte pan, and some new alcohol. So I made a quiche, which turned out suprisingly well, hamburgers, merguez, chili chicken in the wok, and my new favorite cocktail, the Daisy Vodka.

The Daisy Vodka consists of Sprite, Vodka, fresh lemon juice, Grenadine, and ice, shaken in a cocktail shaker, plus a sugar coating on the glass. Delicious! I have one about every other day. I'm so happy to have found a Frenchie who likes whipping up new cocktails at home. Pretty soon we're going to have a full bar. We've got about 20 different bottles of alcohol, and lots of fun shakers, stirers, measurers, the blender. Now we've just got to acquire some fancy cocktails glasses and we'll be set. At Conforama the other day Régis and I checked out bar stools and bars to put in our next apartment to entertain all his friends. He told me once if he didn't want to make a reasonable amount of money in life he would love to be a bartender. I think he and his friends are cooking up a business plan to open a bar - they've got the finance man, two informatics engineers, and the webmaster. I was informed I get to be the hot American bar maid, and facing my upcoming 8:30 AM - 6 PM cubicle job in September, being a barmaid doesn't sound too bad...

Frank Provost gives the 1,654,321,890th Euro shag cut!

Well, after being sick of my long hair day after day for the past few weeks I decided to take a trip to the neighborhood Frank Provost at Porte d'Italie. I don't really know why I chose it other than that it looked kind of classy, with big mirrors and cool lighting. I really had no idea if this is a good place to get your hair cut or not. Last year I went to places like Jean-Claude Biguine and never really got a good cut, so I thought I would try something different. And the 35€ for shampooing-coupe-coiffe seemed reasonable (I've paid 80€ before and didn't really see a difference in quality).

So I arrived prepared with a few key words - primarily dégradé (layered), pas trop courte (not too short), and la volume (As in, I don't have any and want some). I asked for the shampooing-coupe-coiffe and was led over to the coat rack where the receptionist helped me put on one of their special Frank Provost jackets. Everything in the store was actually labeled Frank Provost, down the combs and the plastic cup for my café (a nice touch). I had a seat in an empty stylist's chair and waited my turn. I was given a Frank Provost hair style book to look at, mostly filled with short Euro-chic cuts with straight-across-the-forward bangs. Not exactley what I was looking for. The stylist came over and I explained that I didn't have much volume and was tired of the super-long straight hair. It was weighing me down. So we decided how much to cut through an exchange of my French plus head-nodding and shaking. It was an interesting way to communicate, in the very least.

I then got my shampooing which was performed with a little head massage. The stylist asked if I wanted 'un soin' because my hair was 'trés sec' and of course, it would cost 5€ more, or 7€ for a masque, so I politely declined. That is one of the biggest differences between a French and an American salon. In the U.S. they condition your hair with normal hair conditioner for free - you can pay for an upgrade. I've noticed that not too many French women use conditioner. Régis's cousin has really dry hair and I asked if she used conditioner and she looked at me with a very wierd expression and said no. I then explained to her the merits of using conditioner and how it would help her have less frizz and she just looked at me like 'Oh, silly little American girl and her obsession with hair'.. Anyways, back to the visit.

After the shampooing the stylist started to cut, but not after remarking like every single stylist I've ever met - Wow, you're hair is so tangly!!! Yes, I know, thanks.

During the cut I got very scared because of how the stylist was cutting my hair. But I now know it is the secret to the Euro-shaggy-layers cut that I am the proud owner of currently. She drew a zig zag line on both sides of my head and picked up all the hair above the line, pulled it the back and cut it straight across. I almost had a panic attack in the chair - I had never seen someone cut hair like that in all my life. She then took razor scissors and razored almost all of my hair. And voila - I look like a typical parsienne now. Except for the red hair - but I'm not gonna change that! During the cut I also noticed that the stylists don't clean the combs in between clients?? In the US they always have the combs in that funny green solution. The stylist also swept up my hair before blow-drying it. But, the real problem didn't start until after the cut.

When I went to pay they said my American bank card (a Mastercard) wouldn't work, so I had to run to an ATM and come back. They even had a credit-card slide machine that my card typically works on - the owner even thought my card wasn't going to work in an ATM. Very strange. Then I wanted to give 5€ for a tip and the owner just looked at me funny because I kept telling her I should be getting less back. Then I realiwed you have the give the tip directly to the person.. which made for a very, very awkward situation. Half the clients and the stylists were looking at me like I was a very strange individual and I left the place feeling stressed from a situation that should have been a breeze. I must be missing something about how it all works. It's so true that even the simplist tasks in a foreign country end up being long and complicated. But at least my hair looks great!

Big hairy butt with your daily shopping, anyone?

While innocently minding my own business yesterday, on the way to Monoprix, I had to pass through a small passage between the back of a bus stop and a video store. Three lovely members of Paris's teenager male population were waiting for me. I had to squeeze past two of them while the other was inside the bus stop, up against the glass panel. The first two started yelling at me as soon as they saw me.. "Ehh, ehhh, viens ici ma cherie, je veux que tu vois quelque chose" and as there was no other way to get around I had to walk by them. I was completely ignoring them while listening to my iPod, and as I turned my head away from them while I swept past, I got a full glimpse of the third boys' ass pressed up against the glass on the back of the bus stop. And it was hairy, really hairy. I was going to turn around and comment on the fact that it was so hairy.. something in the category of "maybe it's time to faire une epilation" but I decided it would be easier to just ignore all of their laughter.

Days like that make me want to go back to the 16éme. I'm starting to get really angry I can't even walk out my door without hearing some comment from someone. And they're not all like the little old man who told me my hair was pretty this morning, because that I would be ok with. They're more in the genre of sexually agressive turn-my-cheeks-pink comments. You'd think I'd be used to it after more than a year and a half, but somehow I don't think I ever will.

Au Parc Asterix

Yesterday I took one step closer to becoming une française. I visited Parc Asterix. The entire day Régis kept asking me "what do you think, what do you think?".. Finally, I had to admit Cedat Point was better because they have about 5X the big rollar coaster ( that I love) and Disneyland Paris was better because I know the stories and like all the kitshy rides. He told me I hurt his heart (briser le coeur).. but that being said, it was an awesome day.

We rode all the rides even the ones that get you wet, and I hate wearing wet clothes. Luckily all the other girls were like me and broke out the rain jackets in the line for the log ride. I also got to talk to all the other "girlfriends" which was fun since all my girls are back in the United States. I even knew something about what one girl, Cécile, is doing her doctorate on! Thank god for that pointless (at the time) class on Books of Hours that I had to take to live in the "special" dorm.

There was a little cultural misunderstanding, however. On our way to the metro Régis says "lets stop at the boulangerie and get some sandwiches". I said, "great, I'm starving, but sandwiches for breakfast?". He just looked at me.. "No, for lunch". Then it was my turn to stare.. "You want to leave a sandwich in your backpack for 4 hours and then you expect me to eat it?. My mom wouldn't even let me eat yogurt that was left out for 1 hour, and it already has bacteria in it! So Régis said "Fine, but you're paying for lunch in the park" and I agreed. Later in the day, we we're the only couple that didn't bring sandwiches and Régis looked at me like.. duh, I told you. Finally someone asked why we hadn't brought our lunch and Régis says.. "Well, Brandi didn't want to". Someone else chimed in at that point about American consumerism, how food isn't allowed in the parks in the US, etc. Then I said "Well, you can't go around leaving food in your sack all day and then eat it, you might get sick". At that point, about three people just stared at me like I had said "I like to eat worms" or something equally crazy. I supposed my mom was a little obsessed with things being chilled and fresh, but she is a nurse.. and I kind of like eating at theme parks. Kind of like how I like to eat airport food. So sue me, it makes me happy. :)

Oh, and I got to ride in car yesterday - I haven't done that for over three weeks!!!

Kyotori

If you're looking for a good place for lunch near Opéra try Kyotori, it is the best little japanese restaurant I've been to in Paris. They put the good stuff on every table, and by good stuff I mean homemade sweet soy sauce, so addicting. For 6 euros you get a bowl of miso soup with lots of soja and mushrooms, a cabbage salad, a bowl of rice, and 4 brochettes, the chicken balls and chicken strips, plus your choice of either their special cocktail or a café. And people say you can't eat cheap in Paris! They also have really good sushi and Japanese beers. Régis said he thought their sushi was some of the best he'd had in Paris, and he loves sushi.

Next week we're going to do their take out (10% off) and eat in the park right next to their restaurant. Then we're going to check out 1001 lists, a wedding list place to make your registry, which is close by. My friend Christophe and his fiancée Marie-Alice just used them to make their list and they said it worked out really well. I'll post more about that once I get their brochure. They have the most beautiful wedding gowns in their window, too. I wish I had had my camera with me. Maybe they'll be the same next week.

Kyotori
10, rue Chabanais 75002 PARIS
01 42 60 06 99

The French Women must put the fat somewhere..

So my mom, knowing how much I like books about France, sent me a book recently. After researching on the internet for awhile it seems I am the last to find out about it. It's called French Women Don't Get Fat. Now, I can see how some tips are really helpful, such as walk more, eat smaller portions, buy fresh fruit.. but the whole book seems to be more about self-restaint than being a French woman.

For example, I recently attended a barbeque on a Parisian balcony (beautifully decorated with about 25 different plants - I'd die to have a huge balcony like that) with a mixture of French guys and girls. What did the barbeque consist of? Well, it was merguez on baguettes with french fries, lots of rhum, vodka, absinthe, and about 6 bags of chips. This doesn't really seem much different than it's American counterpart, just substitute hot dogs or hamburgers for the merguez.

The interesting part? The French girls (very slim - normal) ate about half a bag of chips each and way more merguez than I did! They didn't exactley seem to be following the French Women Don't Get Fat rules. It must be good genes, or they must make up for it later. I'll have to keep my eyes open. They did drink much less alcohol and Diet Coke than I did. Maybe that has something to do with it.

The only French woman I can think of who follows those French Women rules was my old mean host mom, who told me I ate too much and would only eat about two spoonfuls of lentils and 1/2 a filet of fish for dinner each night. After lentils at every meal, I don't think I'll ever eat them again.

Sink the Biz - French style

Well, I think I received my first dissapointment as a French hostess. I guess playing Sink the Biz with a bunch of Heinekein does not appeal to very many French people. Those who found playing the best drinking game where the loser is actually the "winner" (isn't that how all drinking games work?) to be appealing will be arrivng shortly. I personally can't wait to show my Frenchies how to play. It's like the ultimate form of cultural exchange; a bucket, plastic cups from the US, beer splashing everywhere, and a bunch of French people yelling 'Dry ass' (because I told them that is what cul sec actually translates to).

But my point was, a lot of people said no. Régis seems to think this is because his friends either don't know how to drink like real men, or they were busy with better plans. He really knows how to cheer a girl up! I think I'll take the former. Considering Régis explained what girls on bar crawls are like in the US and some of his friends seemed shocked into expressions of disgust mixed with a little bit of envy. Régis likes to tell them all how wild us American women are.

Speaking of American women.. the hot gossip with Régis's friends was that an American girl, how do I put this politely.. manually helped out? manually drove the stick shift?.. of one of his friends in the middle of a club, on a podium. Ahh.. les americaines, keeping alive the dream!