After a meeting yesterday with JMJ to wrap up, I'm off today to Paris, ahead of a train/plane/automobile voyage thurfriday to T'ba. I had to pack up my desk this morning in preparation for an office relocation in my absence - happily only half a box of stuff.
Entries may well be a little sparse over the next 4 weeks, depending on how much time I wind up passing in BrisVegas.
Wednesday, 29 March 2006
Monday, 27 March 2006
foire, er
On Sunday I was supposed to have coffee with K, but got a call earlier than expected to come and help with filming interviews at the Foire Celtique out at the convention centre. The vast majority of the show was a commercial debauchery of the theme, but the celtic part itself, confined as it was to a small part of one hall, was entertaining enough. Some weird conversations were had. There was a stall selling exclusively rugby gear but with a TV screening gaelic football - when asked, the girl obviously had no idea why, and offered instead feeble justifications about there being rugby "in" gaelic football, which is as false by evidence as it is (I believe) by origins. There was a welsh-turned-french author who gave a great interview bagging english folk who move to Brittany but refuse to integrate - I couldn't help but think about how these are views are quite acceptable here, but would be dodgy if you substituted Western Sydney for Brittany, and Lebanese/Vietnamese for English. Food for thought. I was going to go listen to some jazz at Henry Cording in the evening, but I was wiped, so I stayed home with stirfry and "A Streetcar Named Desire".
Note: Il y a bien une tentative à un jeu de mot dans le titre, peut-être ratée. Foireux!
Note: Il y a bien une tentative à un jeu de mot dans le titre, peut-être ratée. Foireux!
good night and good stuff
Last entry way, er, Wednesday. OK.
So Thursday I dragged myself to the cinema, alone for lack of cinebuddies, to a screening of Good Night & Good Luck. Good thing I did, too, because I really liked it. The dialogue is slickly written, the performances are strong if not spectacular, the 'look', both in terms of period elements, b/w shooting, and general mood, are spot on, and the message is clear, albeit that one might say its a little thinly veiled. Most importantly, though, the film knows exactly what it is - to ask questions about the responsibility of society and of the media in particular to pay attention to the rights of the individual vs the national interest - and does it extremely well.
So Thursday I dragged myself to the cinema, alone for lack of cinebuddies, to a screening of Good Night & Good Luck. Good thing I did, too, because I really liked it. The dialogue is slickly written, the performances are strong if not spectacular, the 'look', both in terms of period elements, b/w shooting, and general mood, are spot on, and the message is clear, albeit that one might say its a little thinly veiled. Most importantly, though, the film knows exactly what it is - to ask questions about the responsibility of society and of the media in particular to pay attention to the rights of the individual vs the national interest - and does it extremely well.
Wednesday, 22 March 2006
nyargh
Usually I manage to keep my angst to one or other of my work/non-work spheres, but the last week or so it has been both at once. Things to be done, but not enough time to do them properly before chooffing off on hols. And to boot, the more I agonise over them, the more imposing the tasks seem.
While I'm here, I guess I can update stuff. I called Em on Thursday night (Friday morning in Hobart) to say happy birthday, and had a quick chat with everyone (Lee, M & D were down for the weekend). Friday night was St Pat's, and pints at a chockers O'Connells with Erwan, J-M and Andrew, the Irishman visiting us from Trinity. Saturday night was an Avenir game, which they won easily, and to which I paid less attention than usual. The party afterwards was OK, much time spent chatting, drinking and eating - usually I'm not a big fan of the post-game chow, but Erwan & Manu did themselves proud. Home about 3:30. Sunday afternoon there was a game between the Avenir 2s and Rennes Patros, in a well-hidden and well-acquitted gym near the canal.
One week til hols, back to my agony.
While I'm here, I guess I can update stuff. I called Em on Thursday night (Friday morning in Hobart) to say happy birthday, and had a quick chat with everyone (Lee, M & D were down for the weekend). Friday night was St Pat's, and pints at a chockers O'Connells with Erwan, J-M and Andrew, the Irishman visiting us from Trinity. Saturday night was an Avenir game, which they won easily, and to which I paid less attention than usual. The party afterwards was OK, much time spent chatting, drinking and eating - usually I'm not a big fan of the post-game chow, but Erwan & Manu did themselves proud. Home about 3:30. Sunday afternoon there was a game between the Avenir 2s and Rennes Patros, in a well-hidden and well-acquitted gym near the canal.
One week til hols, back to my agony.
half a world away
Larry, which got a few words in the local rag Ouest France on Monday, jumped up today for a back page spot with a photo of a unroofed house. It was right in between an article about a french lesbian "other" mother losing her court appeal for paternity leave, and an article about chinese frogs that emit ultrasound. *Sigh* I guess it got some press, at least. Cyclones are good like that - they know what gets em in the papers. Not as dumb as some.
In the meantime, no-one is still dead, although with Johnny and god-knows how many other politicians traipsing through over the next few days, that may not last.
In the meantime, no-one is still dead, although with Johnny and god-knows how many other politicians traipsing through over the next few days, that may not last.
Tuesday, 21 March 2006
go back to your own damned campus
I was surprised upon arriving this morning to see a crowd of students hanging around the foyer of IFSIC (the IT school here). I then read in my email that they are there to blockade the lecture theatres. This has been going on at the other major campus in town, home of the arts students at Rennes 2, for 4 weeks or more, but until this point hadn't really hit home for the sciency types out this way.
I have a problem with this, but before I vent on it, let me say that I'm fairly sympathetic to their gripe. Now, I'm not really up on the CPE (contrat première embauche - first employment contract), but as I understand it, its a contract that offers very little job security, the goal being to make employers more likely to hire graduates and thus lower the very high unemployment rate in the 18-25 demographic. A noble aim, but a high price to pay for a slight increase in employment, particularly if, as anticipated, the low job security makes the contract useless as a security, for example when renting an apartment. I personally think its not as bad as the recent changes to Australian IR law, but its worth protesting over.
And there's the rub. A student protest is a beautiful thing. Students are young, they should be involved, and they should speak their minds and seen to be speaking their minds. A student strike, on the other hand, is silly, and a classroom blockade is just plain bloody-minded.
The only people hurt by locking students out of classrooms are students. Its just not visible. It doesn't impact the workings of the state like a doctor's strike or a transport workers' strike, so it won't speak to politicians that way, and it doesn't make good TV, so won't get reported, and thus won't offer any propaganda value. It hurts them and their fellow students, and has no value for their cause. If they really want to help get the word out, they'd be more use downtown facing the CRS and tear gas and getting their mugs on TV.
I have a friend over at Rennes 2 who has been locked out of classes for 4 weeks. She's been to the meetings where they vote whether to continue, but its more a rally than a vote, and the odds of ending the blockade are not helped by the vote being a show of hands. This isn't helping her masters, and she's not looking forward to explaining to potential employers that the explanation for lower marks this semester is based in a french industrial dispute. The employers aren't from France; they don't care.
What's particularly deplorable about the blockades downstairs today are that the students aren't even from IFSIC. In the paternal wisdom, a group of blow-ins (I really want to say arts students, but I restraining myself) seem to have decided that they know what is best for the students here, and that is that they not learn. Its forced equality at the cost of both liberty and fraternity.
Update: Pour les francophones interessés, il y un article sur le blog de redaction d'Ouest France qui discute des issus associés.
I have a problem with this, but before I vent on it, let me say that I'm fairly sympathetic to their gripe. Now, I'm not really up on the CPE (contrat première embauche - first employment contract), but as I understand it, its a contract that offers very little job security, the goal being to make employers more likely to hire graduates and thus lower the very high unemployment rate in the 18-25 demographic. A noble aim, but a high price to pay for a slight increase in employment, particularly if, as anticipated, the low job security makes the contract useless as a security, for example when renting an apartment. I personally think its not as bad as the recent changes to Australian IR law, but its worth protesting over.
And there's the rub. A student protest is a beautiful thing. Students are young, they should be involved, and they should speak their minds and seen to be speaking their minds. A student strike, on the other hand, is silly, and a classroom blockade is just plain bloody-minded.
The only people hurt by locking students out of classrooms are students. Its just not visible. It doesn't impact the workings of the state like a doctor's strike or a transport workers' strike, so it won't speak to politicians that way, and it doesn't make good TV, so won't get reported, and thus won't offer any propaganda value. It hurts them and their fellow students, and has no value for their cause. If they really want to help get the word out, they'd be more use downtown facing the CRS and tear gas and getting their mugs on TV.
I have a friend over at Rennes 2 who has been locked out of classes for 4 weeks. She's been to the meetings where they vote whether to continue, but its more a rally than a vote, and the odds of ending the blockade are not helped by the vote being a show of hands. This isn't helping her masters, and she's not looking forward to explaining to potential employers that the explanation for lower marks this semester is based in a french industrial dispute. The employers aren't from France; they don't care.
What's particularly deplorable about the blockades downstairs today are that the students aren't even from IFSIC. In the paternal wisdom, a group of blow-ins (I really want to say arts students, but I restraining myself) seem to have decided that they know what is best for the students here, and that is that they not learn. Its forced equality at the cost of both liberty and fraternity.
Update: Pour les francophones interessés, il y un article sur le blog de redaction d'Ouest France qui discute des issus associés.
populitis
Poor old Beazer is ill today, struck down with a nasty case of populism. This might just be the stupidest thing I can ever recall him saying.
I'm far from a Libertarian, but here's my take on this. Blocking porn, and spam, and other subjectively "undesirable" content, is a great service for an ISP to provide, and should be an important bullet point on the brochure that arrives in Mr & Mrs 2.3-kids Jones' letterbox on a Thursday. It is a vendor's value-add selling point, and legislators should steer well clear of it. Talk about making content filtering the legally-obliged default for internet service provision is just silliness. As for "its too hard to install a content blocker", that's patronising and insulting. Back me up here, John.
And anyway, what is Labour trying to achieve with this? The only creditable reason I can see is that it's an attempt to convince ISPs to offer abovementioned glossy bullet point more, but my cynical side doesn't buy it. Surely they don't really believe this is an important issue? Is it an attempt to wedge the big 'L' social conservatives from the few remaining small 'l' liberals in the government? Please! If the small 'l'-ers didn't poke out their little heads over the farcical changes to sedition in the terror legislation, why on earth would they do so over porn? Populist social conservatism is the new black in Australian politics, and liberals are judiciously ducking their heads. Kimmy, I know you're a caretaker, but for God's sake show a little ticker.
I got this via Chris, who we can all only hope will resume blogging at some point.
Update: I was being a bit harsh. Social conservatism isn't the new black. Looking like a moron while talking about net porn is the new black.
Update: I asked a question on Bartlett's blog, and he replied with an article. He's more conservative and less cynical than I am, but he still throws the "wedge" word out there.
There's also a good post over at Electron Soup.
I feel I'm dignifying this non-issue more than it merits. I'll post something else in a moment to get off of it.
I'm far from a Libertarian, but here's my take on this. Blocking porn, and spam, and other subjectively "undesirable" content, is a great service for an ISP to provide, and should be an important bullet point on the brochure that arrives in Mr & Mrs 2.3-kids Jones' letterbox on a Thursday. It is a vendor's value-add selling point, and legislators should steer well clear of it. Talk about making content filtering the legally-obliged default for internet service provision is just silliness. As for "its too hard to install a content blocker", that's patronising and insulting. Back me up here, John.
And anyway, what is Labour trying to achieve with this? The only creditable reason I can see is that it's an attempt to convince ISPs to offer abovementioned glossy bullet point more, but my cynical side doesn't buy it. Surely they don't really believe this is an important issue? Is it an attempt to wedge the big 'L' social conservatives from the few remaining small 'l' liberals in the government? Please! If the small 'l'-ers didn't poke out their little heads over the farcical changes to sedition in the terror legislation, why on earth would they do so over porn? Populist social conservatism is the new black in Australian politics, and liberals are judiciously ducking their heads. Kimmy, I know you're a caretaker, but for God's sake show a little ticker.
I got this via Chris, who we can all only hope will resume blogging at some point.
Update: I was being a bit harsh. Social conservatism isn't the new black. Looking like a moron while talking about net porn is the new black.
Update: I asked a question on Bartlett's blog, and he replied with an article. He's more conservative and less cynical than I am, but he still throws the "wedge" word out there.
There's also a good post over at Electron Soup.
I feel I'm dignifying this non-issue more than it merits. I'll post something else in a moment to get off of it.
Here comes the blow-in again
Innisfail took a big one on the chin last night. I was living there in '86 for Winifred, which was a "paltry" cat3, but still caused a right mess. Larry last-night was a cat5, which I guess authorises the comparisons to Tracy, though Tracy was much smaller and more powerful, and was hitting a town not adequately prepared, I would hesitate to suggest. Building regulations have come a long way since, and with good cause.
Here's what I'm thinking though: the preparedness & response to this will be underappreciated. This is as big a cyclone as has been seen in Australia for a long time, and yet the injury/death toll is, to date, unbelievably small. It will probably go up with the flooding and other aftermath, but to get this far with that sort of result is, under the circumstances, bloody amazing. The economic costs will run to hundreds of millions, no doubt, but that sounds a pretty good deal to me.
Here's what I'm thinking though: the preparedness & response to this will be underappreciated. This is as big a cyclone as has been seen in Australia for a long time, and yet the injury/death toll is, to date, unbelievably small. It will probably go up with the flooding and other aftermath, but to get this far with that sort of result is, under the circumstances, bloody amazing. The economic costs will run to hundreds of millions, no doubt, but that sounds a pretty good deal to me.
Saturday, 18 March 2006
schwag patrick's day
2 Gallettes, 1 crepe, 4 pints of Beamish stout, and about 200 people in O'Connells. Scored a free scarf, and a silly green/white/orange plush top hat, which stayed in the bar. Good craic, and I now know the chants associated with the Fields of Athenry. Hey baby, let the free birds fly!
Friday, 17 March 2006
runs, rides, curries and calls
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
runs, rides, curries and calls
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
update
I did go for that run (give or take a detour), on Wednesday evening, and it was good. Things here are just now getting warm enough for such activities to once again be workable propositions.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Yesterday, I rode over to ESC for lunch, where Ashoo (and others) was cooking for 80. Nice to catch up with Liz, Soso, Jerem, etc, but there are some conversations (conversators, really) who I find entirely incomprehensible. The words parse individually, but the links between them seem somewhat unjustified or even random.
Then, last night, I called Em for her birthday. Mum, Dad & Lee are all down to see her for a long weekend, so I got to chat with them all for a while. I particularly enjoy chatting with Em - we get along so much better on the phone these days that we have in the past in person.
Meanwhile, Rennes is silly with teargas and protesting schoolkiddies.
Wednesday, 15 March 2006
whiteboard
This is what a good afternoon at work looks like for me. Productive, huh? Now that its here in blue, green, red and white, I can't for the life of me remember why I always have trouble explaining what I do to lay-people. It's so simple!
On the plus side, there are probably only a few people who might read this who would understand what the hell this means, so I'm probably less exposed to people stealing my ideas, despite my paranoia.
On the plus side, there are probably only a few people who might read this who would understand what the hell this means, so I'm probably less exposed to people stealing my ideas, despite my paranoia.
Friday, 10 March 2006
You know you've made it in pop when...
... you're on the morning show with Kerri-Ann Kennerley, playing with a singer introduced by no less a music doyenne than K-A.K herself as "Australia's next pop princess, with a debut album produced by the hitmakers behind Britney Spears and Celine Dion."
Check it out, y'all. That's Paulo Hendersoni there. I knew him when he was just starting up, 'n all that.
Check it out, y'all. That's Paulo Hendersoni there. I knew him when he was just starting up, 'n all that.
Wednesday, 8 March 2006
less than ideal
When life gives me lemons, I find they make excellent munitions for attacking passing strangers.
That has nothing to do with anything, really. Oh, I guess at a stretch I got some lemons yesterday. I'd basically only ridden a few hundred meters on my way home from work when I realised I had a puncture. Of course, it was "raining" (really somewhere between mist and drizzle on the Australian scale), so I was forced to walk home in the wet. On the plus side, it made it easier to chat with Franck, who graciously accompanied me for a while. After that, I had my iPod and a few episodes of Drunk & Retired to catch up on, so it wasn't so bad.
Getting home, I thought to myself, "fuck it man, let's go bowling". Actually, the plan had already been fixed by others, but I couldn't get the Lebowski quotes out of my head, so I really was thinking that. (Also, "nobody fucks with the Jesus", but I couldn't work that into the narrative here.) Anyway, I went bowling, with Emeric, Jeremy, Jerome and Franck. We bowled pretty much like crap, no-one getting over 114 on the day, but it was fun. I started out OK, with 110, and went downhill from there to an abysmal 77 in the third frame. Still, something that bears repeating.
That has nothing to do with anything, really. Oh, I guess at a stretch I got some lemons yesterday. I'd basically only ridden a few hundred meters on my way home from work when I realised I had a puncture. Of course, it was "raining" (really somewhere between mist and drizzle on the Australian scale), so I was forced to walk home in the wet. On the plus side, it made it easier to chat with Franck, who graciously accompanied me for a while. After that, I had my iPod and a few episodes of Drunk & Retired to catch up on, so it wasn't so bad.
Getting home, I thought to myself, "fuck it man, let's go bowling". Actually, the plan had already been fixed by others, but I couldn't get the Lebowski quotes out of my head, so I really was thinking that. (Also, "nobody fucks with the Jesus", but I couldn't work that into the narrative here.) Anyway, I went bowling, with Emeric, Jeremy, Jerome and Franck. We bowled pretty much like crap, no-one getting over 114 on the day, but it was fun. I started out OK, with 110, and went downhill from there to an abysmal 77 in the third frame. Still, something that bears repeating.
Monday, 6 March 2006
Yeats quote
I was in an office with Keith for about 5 years, I guess, and I think the whole time he had this poster on his wall with what looked like a photo of an AT-AT taken with a gameboy camera, accompanied by a quote:
7 years later I finally got around to looking it up, and it turns out it comes from a Yeats poem. Good quote, good poem.
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
7 years later I finally got around to looking it up, and it turns out it comes from a Yeats poem. Good quote, good poem.
Thursday, 2 March 2006
The Saddest Music In The World
I went with Zoé and a couple of her friends to TNB to see "The Saddest Music In The World" last night.
Sometimes I have the feeling in a cinema that I'm missing gross quantities of allegory or subtext in the film, and last night was the most I've felt that since probably Mulholland Drive. David Lynch is a little different, I guess, in that its often the story that's hidden in his films, whereis in this case I had the feeling that the story was something of a MacGuffin for the "real significance" of the film. Unfortunately, reading reviews it seems I am alone in this view.
In any case, its a film that lives in the bizarre. Realism is not to be seen here. The central characters are all weird, none moreso than Isabella Rosselini's wigged double-amputee beer baroness. I can only I am the first person to ever make the comparison, but the story structure resembles that of the Van Damme vehicle, The Quest, in that it advances as an interspersal of sad-music-offs and the developments of the relationships between the 5 principal characters. The cinematography is mostly black-and-white, and recalls any number of things, from Lynch's Eraserhead to Depression-era newsreels, to classic B/W cinema footage. Its a little tough on the eyes, but I guess it serves to establish a certain vibe.
The whole mix is certainly challenging - not for Van Damme fans, despite any structural similarities :) - and to a degree the madcap assembly probably leads the viewer to read more of his own projections into the film than a he might in a more traditional production. To that end, its certainly not a boring film, if you're willing to looking past the strangeness and listen to what it evokes.
Sometimes I have the feeling in a cinema that I'm missing gross quantities of allegory or subtext in the film, and last night was the most I've felt that since probably Mulholland Drive. David Lynch is a little different, I guess, in that its often the story that's hidden in his films, whereis in this case I had the feeling that the story was something of a MacGuffin for the "real significance" of the film. Unfortunately, reading reviews it seems I am alone in this view.
In any case, its a film that lives in the bizarre. Realism is not to be seen here. The central characters are all weird, none moreso than Isabella Rosselini's wigged double-amputee beer baroness. I can only I am the first person to ever make the comparison, but the story structure resembles that of the Van Damme vehicle, The Quest, in that it advances as an interspersal of sad-music-offs and the developments of the relationships between the 5 principal characters. The cinematography is mostly black-and-white, and recalls any number of things, from Lynch's Eraserhead to Depression-era newsreels, to classic B/W cinema footage. Its a little tough on the eyes, but I guess it serves to establish a certain vibe.
The whole mix is certainly challenging - not for Van Damme fans, despite any structural similarities :) - and to a degree the madcap assembly probably leads the viewer to read more of his own projections into the film than a he might in a more traditional production. To that end, its certainly not a boring film, if you're willing to looking past the strangeness and listen to what it evokes.
babes, baskets, and bars
No Chris, not that sort of babes.
On Monday Franck, Valentine and I went out to Acigné to see Jacques, Sophie and Juliette. Juliette, true to the stereotype of her age, spent the time alternately eating and sleeping, with very brief bouts of crying interspersed. The rest of us chatted about charming phenomena such as jet-propelled excrement, and had coffee and cake. In spite of this, the contagious nature of the whole thing was well in evidence, as subtle and spoken "you must be next" references flew across the table between the grinning ladies. Coming on the heels of the poo-jet discussion, this didn't make much sense to me, but hey, what would a single guy know?
After the festivities, Franck & Valentine dropped me off for basketball. I was looking forward to it, having missed a week, and we had a good turnout outside the building. Unfortunately, we all remained outside the building, as the guy who normally opens the door decided not to show, leaving us quite literally in the cold.
To drown our sorrows, Liz, Franck (other Franck) and I went to a bar nearby, which turned to be The Smokiest Bar In History. I noticed a bit inside, but when I got home it was insufferable. I guess that's a measure of how desensitized I have become to smoky bars since I've been in France, but its disgusting nonetheless.
On Monday Franck, Valentine and I went out to Acigné to see Jacques, Sophie and Juliette. Juliette, true to the stereotype of her age, spent the time alternately eating and sleeping, with very brief bouts of crying interspersed. The rest of us chatted about charming phenomena such as jet-propelled excrement, and had coffee and cake. In spite of this, the contagious nature of the whole thing was well in evidence, as subtle and spoken "you must be next" references flew across the table between the grinning ladies. Coming on the heels of the poo-jet discussion, this didn't make much sense to me, but hey, what would a single guy know?
After the festivities, Franck & Valentine dropped me off for basketball. I was looking forward to it, having missed a week, and we had a good turnout outside the building. Unfortunately, we all remained outside the building, as the guy who normally opens the door decided not to show, leaving us quite literally in the cold.
To drown our sorrows, Liz, Franck (other Franck) and I went to a bar nearby, which turned to be The Smokiest Bar In History. I noticed a bit inside, but when I got home it was insufferable. I guess that's a measure of how desensitized I have become to smoky bars since I've been in France, but its disgusting nonetheless.
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