The swear word edition

 I don’t really swear in French.  Mostly because I can’t make the stupid “r” noise very well. 

And the “u” noise. 

Well I can make the "u" noise. It just sounds ridiculously stupid.  And gay. 

Well, and it’s only in slightly poor taste to throw around swear words when your level of communication is at about pre-adolescent.  

Well on second thought, maybe it is entirely appropriate.  First naughty words.

 

So the one that does occasionally escape my Parisian mouth is chier. 

SHEEEYAY.    

Say it again: SHEEEYAY

As in “ça me fait chier”.  It makes me SO mad.  Sa meuh fay SHEEYAY!

 “It makes me defecate.”

(Do you like how I avoided the swear?) 

Why this is the swear, I really don't know.  

Except it is reflexive. You do it to yourself.  So it literally, means this:

Is that what happens when you get mad? 

Trashy

We now have an old oven on our balcony. 

French Cooking

It would be such a good story if I learned French cooking and fell in love with France and all it's crankiness and divine flavors.  It is true I have had some some sauces and sugary delights that have rendered me speechless (and practically orgasmic).
But this is not me.  If it is not apparent by now, I have my own brand of crankiness and it only meshes well with France on Tuesdays between 10h and 16h. 

Ok so back to cooking and falling desperately in love with France like he is my latin something 

There are a couple of issues with this. One being:

Why would you ever cook French Food for French people?
Like the time I briefly raised my hand in my Beginners Japanese class to correct my Japanese professor's pronounciation of "Feng Shui". (neurons..need...sugar...run...faster). I have learned my lesson

I will not be cooking French food for French people.


But if you, my dear friends, want to cook French food for French people, or anyone else for that matter, here it is: 

www.marmiton.org

This is the holy bible of recipes.  

And just so I don't leave you hanging, a tool from my own bastard style of cooking: 

http://www.convert-me.com/en/convert/cooking#subs

It converts any quantity to almost every other measurement and you can even change the "substance", which apparently somehow affects the density.  They tell me butter and water don't measure the same.  Well it's all Feng Shui to me.  

PS translations of any words or phrases or entire recipes can be done with the click of a finger on google.

Jardins des Plantes

Getting breasts

So, as I said, I've developed a belly.

Did I develop a belly because my posture is crap now?  Or did my stomach, full of 5 courses of French food, require more space and pull my shoulders down to expand forward.  (I know I have great theories).

(And just so you know, eating 5 courses makes you feel tired.  Feeling tired because you ate 5 courses of food has no honor. Have honor because you ran a marathon.  Not because you didn't want to offend your mother-in-law by refusing another serving before the next 2 courses of the meal).     

Theory:  fat settles in places on the body where there is little or no movement.

Proof:  uh, good american booty
So if I wanted to smoke and drink 5 coffees a day and smoke like a chimney, I could have that waify with breasts body that French not-so-nice girls have.  Except for the breasts.

So I don't know how the French girls do the busty chesty thing while having no thighs or hips.  But my theory is if I figure out a way to sit on my chest, some fat will start to settle there.  And maybe I could grow out my adolescent-girl A cup.

   And I totally have those pants already!

uh, because everyone gets married in a Château

You might think, because people only talk about one château (Versailles) that there is only one château.
But if you get in a car and start driving around France there is one probably every 40 minutes. 
Which is good.  Because if there were not a million châteaux, where would people get married. 
Because, you know, there is a serious lack of churches here. 
So last weekend we went to wedding number 5.  And it was here:

 

The Baron's wife (no joke) said to me "I'll have the extra towels put in your room.  You are in the Nebel Sister's room with the twin beds?"  

I said "No, we have the large bed"

but no, we had 2 twins

Do you think they knew we were living in sin?

Wherein I become my grandfather and start writing letters to the editor...

The JDD (Journal de Dimanche - Sunday Newspaper) comes with a ladies magazine.  We get it just about every week.  And since I am all about learning how to be a lady, I always read up.

In this magazine are all the usual suspects: interviews with stars, recipes, practical info and an advice column. 
Advice columns are my favorite.  What is old Crazy up to this week? 

So this week got my underwear in more than a knot.  In fact I'm ready to fire up my typewriter and send off a letter.  This is what it would say:

Dear Editor


Is your advice columnist aware of statutory rape laws?  Please tell her to stop spreading insecurity to women and young girls in the world. 

Sincerely yours,

KB

Here is the short version of the printed letter:

My little sister found explicit messages between my father and one of her friends. It is clear they are having an extramarital affair.  I know it is not our business but should we tell our mother?  I am only 19, what is the right thing to do?  

And the PSYCHOLOGIST'S brilliant answer: 

Your sister's behavior is disrespectful and shows a total lack of discretion. Your parents have a private life and it is no one's business but theirs. Make your sisters aware of what will happen if they tell your mother.  It will cause suffering  for your parents, your family and risks causing an explosion. If they do this, won't they feel guilty? And who wins with this kind of transparence? This infidelity will become a big issue and it is perhaps just a passing phase for your father.  And once again, it is absolutely not the business of you or your sisters.


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