A short message on cleaning products in France:

in America everything clean must smell of pine or lemon. I'm not sure why this is...
in France clean can be grapefruit scented [as in the St. Marc's anti-bacterial wipes, shown above] or thyme-basil. It can be orange flower, lotus or jasmine..rose or lily-of-the-valley. sweet almond or savon de marseilles (which really is just French for lavender scented). do the French have a heightened appreciation for smell? alternatively, why don't more use deodorant?

and why must all beauty products concerning feet in America smell like peppermint? riddle me that, Batman.

okay, so i have to tell you..last night, we're hanging around the house after dinner. i'm ichatting and rachel is knitting. nico is in the hallway (where his computer is) playing video games. and chester, the wonder corgi, is lying on the tile floor with his little bunny butt facing me.

then guess what happens? =)

chester farts. we have to open the balcony window to let some air in to the place but after doing this the fart smell is mixed in with the smell of pot from the teenagers smoking out in the apartment below us.

dog fart mixed with ganja is just way too cabbage-y so we burnt some Naang Champa incense, thinking that would help.

it left us with nothing to breathe. there seriously wasn't enough oxygen getting into our brains but we had the most amazing contact high and rachel and i kept giggling and everything we said had this new deeper meaning to it that we could only truly understand then because now, if i were to retell you any of it---you wouldn't get it. it would just be way too easy and make absolutely no sense. you had to be there.

i just remember asking myself out loud "what did i do" over and over. "what a weird sentence, what did i do? it sounds like urdu." i kept saying it and laughing. until the words got broken up into syllables that became only sounds that lost all meaning at that point. dude. we were so fucking high. it was ridiculous. and all because of chester.

"C'est un jeune homme.
Il a les cheveux blonds et courts.
Il a un secret.
C'est n'est pas un blond naturel."

"C'est un pantalons.
C'est un pantalons de créateur.
Il est noir.
Il est ajusté.
Il est rembourré de chausettes."

http://www.google.com/translate_t

Woke up at 11 am had jus de pamplemousse and coffee with vanille soja. Started the day listening to the Juno soundtrack and checked email.

Had poulet with pommes frites for lunch.

Toured Notre Dame cathedral. Paid for two Mary candles but didn't lite them. Put them in my purse for souvenirs.

Took the train to Montmartre.

Drank kir peche.

Got a french manicure.

Went to the supermarché and bought a bottle of white to make more kirs at home with.

Went home

Watched the news (Carla Bruni is such a pute).

Writing this blog.

Tomorrow: the Louvre.