A Day That Requires a Blog

So today was this great day. I walked around for almost 6 hours in this ridiculous heat and was sweating like crazy, but it was worth it. Now I hadn't eaten since I got off the plane. I keep having these weird phobias about going into a restaurant. But clearly by today I was starving. So I took the metro to my new place so I could see just how far I'd have to lug my shit. Weird neighborhood but much crazier and younger then this weird suburb I'm in now. From there I decided to walk up to this FranceTelecom to buy a cell phone. Which was amazingly easy. The guy was super-nice and patient with my French, but never spoke to me in English even when I couldn't rember how to say 1980, as they needed my birthday. Then with my new-found courage in my French I stopped at this little corner sandwich kiosk and bought this huge sandwich wich became dinner too, and sat in the jardin de Luxembourg and ate. It's a giant garden with palace and fountain. It's beautiful and huge! probably bigger than grant park. then I continued my walk to the ballet school and got a schedule and then walked by the eiffel tower and sat for a moment trying to figure out where Tom proposed to Katie but couldn't figure it out. then because once again my feet were killing me I got on the metro and came home. Several people asked me the time and for directions. Directions I couldn't do, as I don't know where anything is, but I was always able to come up with the time. I was very proud.
So it was a good day in Paris, not so good in Chicago. I woke up about 1 am and had this aweful feeling that Adam was in a car accident. I don't know why or what provoked it, but I was sure something was wrong. Sure enough I get a huge email about how he's now at my parents and while driving down I-55 he blew his tire off his car. So needless to say there's a good amount of damage. Luckily no one was hurt, he was only going about 40 mph b/c traffic was bad. I guess if anything, it's better it happened here and not out in the middle of nowhere. He's bummed b/c his brother was going to drive out with him, but depending on how long it takes to get fixed he'll probably have to go alone. And there's this aweful feeling that I can't do anything to help. I know he's in good hands, but it's frustrating as I'm sure you understand.
But since I finally have a cell phone!!! yippee! We can finally talk. I got to hear Beth's voice today and that was super exciting too! so here's my number 06-76-52-45-91
If you call with a calling card you need to eliminate the first 0 (it may need to be eliminated all together, i'm not sure)
to dial internationally it's 011-33 and then the number with our without that 0 before the first 6.
Call anytime, the middle of the night, early, late, whenever! Time to study for my exam!

Buying stock in Advil

. . . Seriously. By the time this summer ends, I'll be better off having bought stock. So sore from moving!:)

Mychela, I'm so sorry that there aren't more posts for you to read! Here they come though. Refuge from the brain-pinching language barrier :) Hope you found a suitable cell phone. Today, there appears to be just about as much to do at work as there was on Friday. I even bought an InTouch Magazine, in honor of Miki. . . I have yet to delve, though. I hope it isn't the begging of an addiction. I was trying to research why are we in Iraq , but it just makes me frustrated. So, I've also been reading the incredibly raunchy Washingtonienne. It's Great. Hope Kel lives up to the DC standards of sluttiness portrayed in this book.

But, I want to read drivel. My rational thoughts are all mushed up from the "cluster" (that's my dad's pissed-off truncation of "cluster fuck" when the shit's really hitting the fan.) that was Andy and John's move. "When are we moving?", "with what are we moving your possessions?", and "is your roommate even going to be here!?" were all common questions regarding this operation. All in all, it was quite a mess. When the final straw broke everyone at 11PM Saturday night, and the boys went to get one last load, they came back with one couch, not even emptying the apartment, while myself and the only other person who helped them (this girl named Becky who says things like "did you see that spick in the cowboy hat?", and "I only stayed with him for like 3 and a half years cause it was comfortable, 'cause I'd fallen out of love with him a year earlier [understandable] and cause he had a good job, and made enough money that if I got pregnant, I'd have security [what?!]", but she was really very nice, and super boisterous enough that it was never boring) went to get food (Domino's) and beer (her dad's--since most of southeastern Wisconsin (for those of you who are unfamiliar with the cheeser way) stops selling liquor at 9PM). Said rain-soaked couch was into the apartment by 1AM Sunday morning. Damn.

I don't know what they're going to do with the other stuff (there's still much at their old place) but I'm out of it. finis. Well, and then Yesterday, John and I, to escape the 150million degree heat of his third floor, lofted apartment (bedroom equals 4th floor), went to see Batman. I was surprised by it. We snuck in Blizzards and basked in the yummy ice cream, and paid-for-by-movie-tickets airconditioning. Lovely. Then I went home and passed out, more or less, in my slightly cooler apartment.

Now, this rambling has to stop. More later

J'ai arrivé

I have to keep this short but I thought you'd like to know how much my suitcases weighed. The pack wasn't so bad at 37lbs. The suitcase was 71lbs. Between my two carry-ons and my bags, my luggage weighed more than I did. Luckily they didn't say anything about the heavy one, as the limit is 70lbs.
Charles DeGaulle airport leaves much to be desired. It might quite possibly be the most confusing airport ever. It took me an hour to find the bus depot that takes you to the train into Paris. Really I only had to switch terminals, but it's super far and requires a bus. I only found it in the end b/c this very nice man who spoke slowly to me literally walked me onto the bus. He even complemented my french, but I think he just felt bad for the stupid american.
So far my French is useful in me speaking to people I get about half the right words out, but I'm not so good when people talk to me. I sort of just nod my head and smile and am probably only understanding about 20% and that number might be generous. But I have all of July to get better! My next journey, buying a cell phone. :o)

Quick notes out the door

Well I thought I'd post a last pre-France blog as I'll be on a plane is a few hours for a lot of hours. One of my suitcases is soooo heavy I think it might be over the limit. oops! other than that I'm okay. Still not excited, though I did have a brief moment yesterday. Saying goodbye to my parents last nigt sucked. It was super hard and I'm pretty sure I cried all the way back into the city. My head still hurts from crying. However thanks to wonderful friends I have lots to do on the airplane to keep me busy and distracted. That is until I take a dramamine to knock me out when I finally concede to the fact I won't be sleeping without it. Thanks again for spending so much time with me! Sarah, I hope all is well in New York. Have fun at the wedding and back in Chicago. Kell, good luck with your drive and the new roommate! I can't wait to hear all about it. Beth and Molly, I'll see you in August with some French treats :o) Live it up in Chicago for me! Somebody please go to the Tast for me!! I never made it.

Je vais en Paris

So the countdown is in effect and it's far less time than I actually need to get everything done and it's starting to make me nervous. What I don't understand is how one can live in a place and have everything they need but the minute it's time to move you need a million things you don't have. It's ridiculous the amount of crap I've had to buy, from converters to cheap kitchen crap so I can cook in the apt., to a SUITCASE! Yep, I didn't own a suitcase until yesterday. I'm not really sure how that's possible but it is. So now i'm staring at these piles of crap I think I'm actually going to move to Paris and I'm realizing it's never going to happen. Which is probably for the better, do I really want to drag all my shit from one of Paris to another? Because CDG airport is really on the opposite end of the city. And while I know this is going to be an amazing experience, I'm not really excited yet. Part of me doesn't believe it and other part of me is just freaked out. I'm sure it'll change once I'm there, but in the mean time I'm panicking just a little because that's what I do. So while I'm posting this here's an address to which you can all send me letters and skittles :o)

Mychela Burke
Résidence René DUBOS
10-12, rue Yitzhak-Rabin
94270 Le Kremlin-Bicetre
France

I will have a phone number, hopefully by monday afternoon I'll have a cell phone, but at the very least when I move into my apartment next Friday I'll have a ground line there. Okay, I need to chill out. Perhaps by the pool. I love you girls!

The Real Deal Ideal Roommate

I think I am more leaning toward excited than freaked about my upcoming DC move these days because I finally nailed down at least one of about a million details I have to work out but that's one more detail than I had figured out last week. Which one, you ask? The roommate sitch. No, I don't have a place to live . . . in due time my loves, but at least I know I won't have to pay that ricockulous sky-high DC rent all on my own. Because Rob Hart is going to split it with me. No, he is not the real-life Rob Hart that the movie The Wedding Singer is based on. Yes, he is some random, possibly dangerous guy I met on the internet. Doesn't that make him sound like a pedophile right off the bat? But I really don't think he is. He's 23 (almost 24 - his birthdya is 10 days after mine) and currently works at a law firm in Pittsburgh. He's moving to DC to begin law school at Catholic University in the fall. For those of you familiar with my views of organized religion, don't fret - he's not particularly religious, he just likes the law and public policy program they have there. He and I have plenty in common. We both love politics and music. We read The Economist and pray for the day when Jeb Bartlett will be president. I think we would both settle for Martin Sheen though. We are both incredibly psyched to watch the division leader Nationals play some quality ball at RFK since we are both accustomed to cheering for teams that generally have losing records. We don't like fish. We don't really cook although we are considering dabbling in George Foreman grilling. But most importantly, both of us have been listening to the new Coldplay albun, X&Y, nonstop since it came out last week. I just don't think I could live with someone who didn't like Coldplay. They don't have to foam at the mouth at the sound of the first chords of "Yellow" like I do, but you have to at least acknowledge their musical excellence. And Rob does. Glad we got that out of the way.

Now we just have to figure out where to live. We have it narrowed down to somewhere close to a metro. Cool? I have been doing a lot of looking around online and it seems impossible to find a place for less than $1500. I mean, at least, a place where I won't necessarily have to carry mace and brass knuckles during the day. We will figure out the details when we get there. And fortunately I will have Sarah there with me to help determine whether or not he is a serial rapist.

I feel pretty confident that he's not. :)

okay, that's a picture. I just had to post it so that my profile could have it. . . maybe i should change the date of the post in order for it not to be on the current date, but whatever.

Random time killer/boredom fixer: There is this very smart woman, Jenifer Shiman, and she's real funny (mm hmm, real funny). Perhaps some of you have seen her work before, she has a website, and does flash animations. They're a riot. Check out her most current movie reenactment. Also, my favorite (I have a sweatshirt with an illustration from it) is up in the right hand corner, inspires me to write in my dairy.

Color Me Badd

I'd say we oughtn't bother mychela for a few hours. She and Adam, no doubt, are sexin' it up, far above the damn-ed Hunt Club. I wonder if the paparazzi got a hold of them on their schmancy dinner? How many weeks do we give them to befriend TomKat in Paris and LA? They got engaged last night, you know. Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise, that is. Right beneath the Eiffel Tower. I'm sorry, but that's only fodder for cheeseball stories. But cheeseball stories are often the best ones. I don't really mean to sound callous. Speaking of cheeseballs, I'm thinking Micah won't be able to wait untill the end of September. Who wants to lay odds that he gets to D.C. earlier?

What's with all the predictions today? Perhaps I will venture some more. I think Leah is planning a coup, she and some other well-supported (not like bras; like friends) will be entering the sphere of influence of important people very shortly. I don't know why Leah--she's just got gumption, you know. I also don't know whose favor it is that she will win, but it's gotta be someone. Perhaps a impressionable publisher of some sort. Or a musician.

As for environmental predictions, I'm wondering about these earthquakes. I think California is trying to break off from the united states to go hang with Hawaii. Alaska can come too. And last week we've got unseasonably boiling temperatures, approaching 100degrees in June, and this week, I've got dew on my car, have to close the windows in the house, and use the heat on the morning commute. CRAZY.

Speaking of cars, that Mazda3 of Miki's is one cute litte sports car. Pretty too. I'd say we've got a duty, in the name of asthetics, to lynch this car basher girl. And while we're at it, lets find the asshole who keyed my car last night. Not only was it mean, uncalled for, and uninspired, but it was poorly done. Very weak. I mean, if you're gonna do something, do it right. That's what's wrong with the world today. No conviction. No one knows how to get a job done.

What think you?

-Yoda

The Ideal Roommate

No Beth, don't get excited. This isn't an entry about roomie horror stories - I will write you one later and I promise it will be good. In the meantime though, I think I found the perfect roommate for DC! He e-mailed me just the other day and this is what he had to say:

"i,m an professional artist and architect, i,m a healty guy and many dream in my life i,m very kind and patient ,but inteligent.i have a cute townhouse with living room and one bedroom, share everything,that means we can share the same bedroom ,livingroom,and others if don,t mind,.i,m tottaly respectful for my future roomate,and a lot of fun.i can be with the right person who is healthy and have a dream in her life. maybe you ask me why i want rent my room to a femail .one reason is that the women are cleaner and less messy .and i had bad not good experiences with the guy and good with the girls.if i find a good roomate i,m able to take nothing as a rent from her. i,m a ppassionate and sweet person.you can reach me at 571-243-3498 or hchoobin@yahoo.com."

I mean, other than the fact that he doesn't know the difference between a comma and an apostrophe and he thinks women are inherently connected to the US Postal Service, I think this guy shows real potential. And seriously, how nice is he that he might not even charge me any rent at all? I mean come on! In this day and age when you feel like you can't trust anyone and everyone is just out to take advantage of you or they only want one thing from you, how sweet and selfless is this guy?

Holy flaming fucking shitballs.

Please don't show any of this to my mother or she will lock me in the linen closet to keep me from moving to DC and living with someone I met on the internet.

The Dark Side...

Not to be depressing, but I just need to vent. This weekend was so hard. So much harder than I ever thought it would be, and I have yet to leave. I know the things we are choosing to do are exciting and the right choices, but nonetheless scary as shit. We've been luckier than anyone I know, having each other at hand for the past three years. I'm now trying to change my mindset and instead of mourning the loss of sangria nights and girls' nights out I'm trying to look forward to our future vacations, holiday reunions, and the other entertaining ways in which we will stay in contact. There are not words for how much I'll miss you ladies. Thank you for being so amazing! Though I may question our friendship if you wear skanky accessories, just a heads up!! :o)

Cap-Cap-Capitalism!

. . . okay, that doesn't really flow as a cheer, but hip-hip for this creation of our fucked-up society: The banana bunker, a plastic sheath for the fruit which can accommodate all shapes, and protects your snack from the ugly/yummy/babymunchable bruises it would otherwise receive. Are we serious? Every once in a while, when I am wasting time online, looking at stuff I'd like to buy, I want to puke about the idea of spending money on something like this. There are, actually, tons of times when I have to laugh at myself for my consumerism, but really, honestly, I mean, from a here-and-now-in-this-society-where-we-grew-up-not-feigning-interest-in-changing-the-world point of view, there are healthy purchases, like How-To books, or New Albums, or Seatbelt Bags, (sure, healthy :) ), but you've gotta draw the line somewhere, right?

Seven Years?

I just want to say that I hope, in seven years, my sister can say: I've been friends with these people for so long, I don't even remember when we met. We're so lucky, guys.

By the way, Mychela. . . why didn't you warn us of Adam's porn-directing debut? Aside from terribly distracting thoughts of "miki's mom, dad and baby brothers are behind us while this weirdo humps his pissy girlfriend", and "she's wearing miki's shirt, that's mik's shirt", oh yes, and "that tank top is going to burst", the screening was fun, entertaining, and enlightening. Plus, it was good to see the product of all your winter's scurrying.