Joyeux Noel

In honor of spending Christmas in Paris with my little sister (who is living here this year), my mom, and the babe, I bring you a second rendition of English-French-English blogging.

It's afternoon here on Christmas. Breakfast has been eaten. Gifts have been given. Pictures have been taken (including many cheesy smiles with scarves and shirts and necklaces). Inappropriate sex jokes have been made. The babe has experienced her first Christmas morning with the gentiles. It's been good times.

We ran ourselves ragged in gorgeous Prague for three days beforehand, but we had a delightful time. We went to the Jewish quarter, saw the Prague castle, went into (somewhere close to one million) tourist shops, and listened to a magnificent concert by the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra.

Highlights from the trip have included my sister surprising us at the airport and scaring the crap out of me, all of us making fun of my mom for her corny sense of humor, me having to run back to the hotel without everyone else so that I didn't have an accident in my pants, mom getting yelled at by a scary slavic woman, all of us being shameful Americans and delighting in the presence of Starbucks (both for the beverages and the bathrooms), a ridiculously fast and terrifying escalator in the Prague metro (which the babe described as getting sucked into a vortex), and the babe and I sharing a tissue while we watched It's a Wonderful Life.

For those of you who read French:

C'est l'après-midi ici Noël. Le petit déjeuner a été mangé. Les cadeaux ont été donnés. Les images ont été prises (y compris beaucoup de sourires de fromage avec les écharpes et les chemises et les colliers). Les plaisanteries inopportunes de sexe ont été faites. Le bébé l'a éprouvée premièrement Noël matin avec les gentils. Cet a été de bons temps.

Nous nous sommes courus déchiqueté dans Prague magnifique pendant trois jours d'avance, mais nous avons eu un temps charmant. Nous sommes allés au quart juif, a vu le château de Prague, est entré dans (quelque part proche à un million) les magasins de touriste, et a écouté un concert magnifique par l'Orchestre Philharmonique tchèque.

Les essentiels du voyage ont inclus ma soeur nous étonnant à l'aéroport et à effrayer la foutaise de moi, nous tous nous moquant de ma maman pour son sens à la guimauve d'humour, me dois la course de retour à l'hôtel sans tous les autres pour que je n'ai pas eu un accident dans mes pantalon, maman obtenant hurlé à par une femme slave effrayante, nous tous sommes Américains honteux et Enchanter dans la présence de Starbucks (pour les boissons et les salles de bains), un ridiculement rapidement et terrifier l'escalator dans le métro de Prague (que le bébé a décrit comme obtenant sucé dans un tourbillon), et le bébé et je partageant un tissu pendant que nous avons regardé c'Est une Vie Merveilleuse.


And for those of you who have a sense of humor (back to English):

This is the afternoon here Christmas. The breakfast was eaten. The gifts were given. The pictures were taken (including a lot of mice of cheese with the scarves and the shirts and the necklaces). The inopportune jokes of sex were done. The baby tested it first Christmas morning with the kind ones. This was good times.

We ran ourselves torn in magnificent Prague for three days in advance, but we had a charming time. We went to the Jewish quarter, saw the castle of Prague, entered into (somewhere close to a million) the stores of tourist, and listened a concert magnificent by the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra.

The essential ones of the trip included my sister astonishing us to the airport and to frighten the bullshit of me, we all making fun of of my mom for his direction to the humor guimauve, has me the return race to the hotel without all the others for that I had not an accident in my pants, mom obtaining yelled to by a woman Slav frightful, we all Delight in the presence of Starbucks (for the drinks and the bathrooms), a ridiculously quickly and terrify the escalator in the subway of Prague (that the baby described as obtaining sucked in a whirlwind), and the baby and I dividing a fabric while we looked at this is a Wonderful Life.

Letter

Dear DC Metro Riders,

Hello there! I just wanted to send a note to talk about a teensy-tiny little problem that I've been having with you. I know we normally get along quite well, which is really shocking when you think about it, since you're usually all up in my personal space, which makes me sort of cranky. But I don't hold it against you because I understand that you're really just a product of the environment in which you exist - which is, well, the DC transportation system. And really, the metro's better than most of it.

So I'm not talking about personal space here. Except if by personal space, we're talking about the personal space that none of us are going to have when landfills take over our pretty little planet. That's right, my dear metro friends, I'm pulling out the hyperbole. But I promise, it's for a good cause.

I'm talking newspapers, people. Any type of newspaper you could want, you can get here. And you can get a bunch of them for free. I, for one, am a happy reader of the Washington Post Express. I normally read the news online, but I delight in my free paper and a few moments of luxurious non-law reading while I stand squished in between several of you flowery-scented metro riders. But guess what I do when I'm finished with my paper? I know, I know. You're tired of guessing games. So I'll tell you.

I put it in the recycling bin.

Don't act surprised. It's the giant bin that says NEWSPAPER HERE with a slot in it. It's at the exit of every metro station right next to the trash can. RIGHT NEXT to the trashcan. And I have to say that I am increasingly disappointed by you, my fellow riders, when you stand in front of the recycling bin and throw your newspaper into the trash can.

I get that sometimes you're busy and don't have time to take that environmentally-conscious step. It happens to me. I feel shame, but it happens. I forgive you for that. I forgive me for that. I forgive all human-kind for our overworked, forgetful sometimes lack of recycling. I do.

But I'm telling you now - the next person I see stand in front of a perfectly good recycling bin and reach past it to throw their newspaper into the trash is going to get strapped to a chair and have their eyes held open while I force them to stare at this creepy picture of Al Gore for 24 hours.

Kisses!

(In)Sanity Gal

The Big Questions

I’m sitting on the metro today reading for class, and this guy gets up and walks towards the doors of the train. I’m guessing he’s somewhere between 18 and 25 years old. He reaches up with both hands, grabs the bar running across the top of the train and starts doing pull-ups, sort of vigorous pull-ups too. He does about 5. Then he drops down and beats his chest a la Tarzan.

Okay, kind of creepy.

Then he makes his fingers into guns and starts kind of shooting all around him. He’s not making any noise really, just silently mouthing pow pow pow. (It could be that he’s just dealing with some pent-up aggression over the girl who is listening to heavy metal on her ipod so loudly that I’m getting a headache from it, which would be warranted.) At any rate, this is all happening over the course of about a minute and a half.

The doors open, and he walks off the train.

Um, weird.

But he’s off the train now, and while I’m still concerned that I may snap and attack the ipod girl, I no longer fear for my own life from the pull-up boy, which leaves me to ponder on important things.

Like pull-up boy’s pants.

This is not a picture of his actual butt, of course – but this is what was happening.

Frankly, I have to say that I’m kind of shocked that this is still in fashion. I thought it would be over in 1992 or something, but clearly I was wrong.

My concern today is not with the aesthetics, though. I’m talking about physics. And biology.

Hips and butts hold up pants. That’s what they do. It’s what they’re good for. Okay, they’re good for some other things, but that’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking pants.

So, when this guy’s pants are below his hips and his butt, what is holding them up? I truly do not know. He had on a belt, so you could say that the belt is holding them up, but it’s tightened around his thighs. So, if it’s tight enough to hold up his pants, how does he walk? I saw him walking, so I know that he can.

And then here’s the big question – what about his, um…stuff? From what I could tell, it’s probably being smashed by his belt. That can’t be comfortable.
In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not all that experienced with the male anatomy, but I do know generally where everything is, and it was under this dude’s belt.

So, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go home tonight and put on a pair of baggy pants and sinch them with a belt right underneath my butt. And try to walk and see what happens. I know – this doesn’t solve the question of what’s getting smashed, but come on, there’s only so much I can do. I’ll report back with my findings.