"No Thanks. Keep the BJ."

Yesterday afternoon I met up with my buddy Aaron for coffee….which turned into cocktails…as usual. Of course as soon as I arrived at the bar I randomly realized that it was the 3rd Thursday in November.

So after Aaron and I had warmed up our palettes with a couple glasses of Rose, the bartender asked us if we’d like to try the BJ Newvo. Aaron was a bit hesitant, but I agreed to give it a try if for no other reason than tradition and the fact that after 2 glasses of wine I’ll pretty much try damn near anything.

Long story short--- I hated the BJ Newvo. I will never become one of those people who bashes a bottle of BJ, but I gotta tell ya, the glass I had last night was crazy bitter and very flat tasting.

In technical wine tasting terms: It was yucky.

Public Service Announcement From Your Sponsor:

While I’m sitting here drinking my morning tea I would just like to take the opportunity to make a public service announcement:

*Ahem.*

I am not pregnant.

Ever since I made that damn post about quiting smoking, certain members of my entourage have been taking sideways glances at my midsection. People, I’m not knocked-up, I’m just fat….which is why I have also cut back on the drinkin’. Cuz as much as I love the booz, I’d still I’d rather eat my calories. It's a hard choice, but in the war of cakes vs. cocktails, cakes usually wins.

Please understand my sudden lifestyle changes have nothing to do with allowing a miniature human to reside in my uterus for the good part of a year. My reasons for giving up a few of my vices are shallow as a kiddie pool.

I wanna buy new fancy clothes and most designers only make fancy garments up to a size 10.

And Valentino sho'nuf don't make maternity wear so.....whatever to that.

How To Get Your Fancy On.

I’m not afraid to admit that I like fanciness. I am all but certain that I get this peculiarity from my grandmother Myrtle. I say peculiarity because, well, I don’t exactly have any rich uncles, yet as my father once so eloquently said to me: “Girl, you got champagne tastes on a beer budget!”

Touché Dad. Touché.

My grandparents were far from being rich, but that never stopped my Granny from treating herself to fancy perfumes, fancy hats and fancy costume jewelry. From my Granny I learned that sometimes, life is rough, but that doesn’t have to stop you from gettin’ your fancy on. In fact when life is rough you MUST get your fancy on!

Lucky for me I have friends that also like to get their fancy on. Everytime I’m in London I meet up with my friend Janice who keeps on the ready a list of fan-tabulous tea salons in London.

This past visit we went to The Mandeville, which was specifically chosen because they have a separate “man menu” which included larger hardier sandwiches. FrenchBoy even got to eat off of manly blue china instead of the standard pink floral patterned stuff.

However I don’t know how manly one can feel whilst munching a scone topped with clotted cream and strawberry jam on “Tiffany Blue” fine bone china…But you can certainly try.

For those who don’t wanna cross the pond, there is of course my old Paris stand-by: the tea salon at Hôtel de Crillon. A few weeks ago I met up with my friend Liz for a weekend in Paris and I took her on a "friend date" there. In fact Hôtel de Crillon has become my default friend date whenever I’m in the neighborhood with someone from out of town. I drag all my friends and family there and afterwards they gush about how lovely it was and I get to say “Duh I know.”, because well, I am sure my Granny Myrtle would agree that having fancy tea is fancy perfection!

p.s. Am I the only person who called their grandmother “Granny” or am I the lone reject? Discuss.

Halloween Part 2

I wrote a response to Charlotte's really good comment yesterday, but it got so damn long that I had to turn it into a post. Lucky you!

Anyway, Charlotte suggested that I was being a bit hard on the French. And she's right. I am a bit hard on the French. (But I like to think that I am equally ruthless with everyone I skewer on this blog.)

And in some ways I agree with her, but let’s not over-look the fact that in France it is also “cool” to be glibly anti-American for non-specific reasons that have vaguely something to do with capitalism, McDonalds, or religion. Nevermind the fact that in general the French LOVE to shop, when pushed will admit to having eaten McDonalds quite recently, and relish all the free days off they get for the Public and School holidays, of which a good part are Catholic holidays.

And while much of Halloween in the US is focused around companies getting people to buy crap they don’t need, I for one have never bought or paid for a Halloween costume. Never, not once. I will admit to buying obscene amounts of sweet treats, but who are we kidding---I do that even in France. If I could blame my candy consumption on the unseen forces of rabid consumerism….I would. But truth be told. I loves the candies. Give me some credit for personal responsibility...erh accountbility...erh whatever.

What this Halloween rant is really all about is that it just seems like in France there is only one way to be "French". Multiculturalism does not exist in any real way here. Either something is French or it has nothing to do with France. There is absolutely very little room for expansion, advancement or change in the definition of "French" in spite of the fact that France is changing----at the speed of f*ckin' light right before my very eyes. Inspite of this absolute fact, the idea of “Frenchness” remains very very rigid and set in it’s ways, and might I add, has a habit of cutting off it’s nose to spite it’s puckered face. It’s all so…..well, for lack of a better word…French.

By the by--Americans imitate the French alllll the damn time (art, cinema, fashion, cuisine)sometimes without even knowing it. And unless taken to extremes, few people would think of it as “pathetic”.

I mean is it pathetic that I desperately want these Chanel shoes?

I think not.

R.I.P. Halloween in France. (Born 2007- Died 2009)

Does this make any sense to you: The French hate Halloween because it’s American, but they inhale Le Beeg-Mac like high cholesterol is the new black?

Whatever. Don't get me started.

We don’t get to celebrate Halloween here in Frogland. I got excited about 3 years ago when it seemed that the Frogs were on the verge of adopting it, but then it just fizzled out. I used to be really bitter about lack of Halloween in France, but now I’m over it. In fact this year I forgot, and we didn’t get any trick-or-treaters anyway.

BUT, one very charming reader (*cough*Jamila*cough,cough*) sent me this photo from the movie “The Chronicles of Riddick”.

Would this not make the most bad-ass Halloween Couples Costume ever for FrenchBoy and I? Or hell we could just go out to dinner dressed up like that. The big manly metallic shoulder pads might be tough to pull off, but we could give it a try.

Also side note: I lurve "The Chronicles of Riddick" because:

A.) I love Thandie Newton long time.

B.) The fact that Vin Deisel has a million-dollar acting career and Ralph Macchio does not, is just sick and awesome.

And oh, oh, my favorite line from the movie: "Now look at you... all back of the bus and sh*t."

Priceless.