Oh! The Places I Need To Go!

With an upcoming work trip to Milwaukee bearing down on me, I decided to escape to Paris for two days. Actually I was only there for 96 minutes this afternoon, thanks to miracles of modern cinema. I think Two Days in Paris is the first Julie Delpy movie I’ve seen. She was second of Kieslowski’s blue-white-red films (I only saw the last), and also in the Sunrise/Sunset movies with the icky Ethan Hawke. 2DiP is a really funny (laugh out loud and sometimes squirmy) look at a couple who have perhaps been on holiday too long and possibly nearing the end of their relationship. Delpy’s real life parents play the crazy dsyfunctional parents in the film, and I was constantly wondering how much of familial funk on display was real. Adam Goldberg (her real ex) plays her annoyingly neurotic boyfriend. The movie picks up after they’ve just returned from a “romantic” vacation in Venice and are stopping in Paris for a couple of days before heading back to NYC.

The little I’ve seen of Goldberg makes me think he is very much like the characters he usually plays (a little crazy, and very caught up in his own issues). Kind of like the way you know Vince Vaughn can really work a nerve (and hey, Mr. Peter Falk confirmed this in an interview after Made was released). But I digress…the movie reminded me how Paris can be beautiful (and as Goldberg’s character says: “This is not Paris. This is hell.”) and hellish all at the same time.

The characters in 2DiP experienced things very similar to my first and second trips to the city of love: 1) extreme weirdness on the Metro (in my case it was a crazy bag lady pointing me out to the police while screaming “noir noir!” across the platform. I didn’t oblige a request for money, 2) going to Pere Lachaise for kicks, stumbling on to some nutty ritual stuff happening at Jim Morrison’s grave and then getting scolded by the gendarmes for leaning against a tombstone…did I mention the nutty ritual stuff happening before we arrived? 3) Americans not on their best behavior (there is a hilarious scene between Goldberg and some expats wearing Bush T-shirts). If you think I’m kidding, David Sedaris captured more of the same in an essay that appeared in “Me Talk Pretty One Day”. But remembering going local in Paris and wandering around the markets, finding a quiet spot to enjoy a glass of wine, or going to my favorite spot in Monmartre makes me forget the bad stuff of travel lore. Hope to get back there soon. Until then, I’ll have a day hike in Coventry next weekend, Milwaukee (if you know of cool stuff to do there please please share!) in a couple of weeks, tix to see Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings in November, and possibly a jaunt to Reykjavik in December.

oh isiah

Ugh. Back when I used to care about professional basketball, I was a huge fan of the original Bad Boys Pistons Team, especially whenever they were playing the Celtics. (Suck it Celtics Fans, it’s in the history books, and even the most ardent haters love Bill Laimbeer now. ) Something about those scrappy, hardscrabble guys. I always thought Isiah Thomas was a bit of a hayseed (which at that time would have made Rodman even more so), and it kind of makes me sick to hear these allegations, because there is always some truth in the story (hello Clarence Thomas). What bugs me even more is the tired argument that it’s somehow more okay to call someone by an offensive and derogatory term if both people are of the same race. Right. I can’t believe he actually said this in a deposition. Beyond ignorant and it’s just really frightening that people like this are in positions of power. Why is it so hard for people to just be decent? Mr. Vonnegut said it best.

Exodus Damage and this game is being brought to you by the letter T

 

Exodus Damage refers to the first John Vanderslice song I ever heard (and also mistook for a Bright Eyes tune). I actually thought the song was called Dance Dance Revolution cuz that’s the chorus. I have a cool mix of this that was on one of the Alias eps. I listened to him all the way up to Manchester, Vermont yesterday (about 3.5 hours and a slightly harrowing nine mile drive on an unpaved and sometimes eroding route 121 (note it is decidedly worse to try to take photos or videos with the Dash while driving vs. texting..TRUST this) to rendezvous with the peeps in Grafton Village. I had plenty of time to ponder why my own exoduses are often damaged in that every time (I) go away, even IFF for a day, there is a measured amount of aggravation that accompanies said pleasure of getting away. No pleasure without pain, if you will. I made it through the first week relatively unscathed and with bunches of beautiful flowers that kept appearing on my desk. I always forget how crazed the first few weeks of September are until it happens again. I have to get a cat sitter for Kramer and I had to fit in a meet and debrief (and get some extra keys made) with the owner’s assistant before heading out of town. The first aggravation came in the form of

Chicken livers, Rhode Island lettuce and Kookaburra

Just back from meeting up with the Bond girl for dinner at La Laiterie. Slightly celebratory because I’ve just accepted a new position (and completed negotiations….even those in the land of books and shiny new databases must negotiate) at my current shop and I couldn’t be happier (or more excited. I’d say slightly terrified, but that would not be completely accurate. My new title is longish. It will definitely be challenging, but I’m looking forward to it). My boss asked if I had a minute to talk today, and I joking pushed my expense report from IFLA forward for him to sign. His response (laughing): NO MORE NEGOTIATING. We are done. Heh. Once you start, it is difficult to turn it off. At least for me.

Back to regular programming: You’d think since I get the same thing from their small plates list every time I go

Thierry Henry plays for Barcelona now?

Survived the first day back at work.  Decided to attack email first, despite many interruptions (most pleasant) and one half-serious question about what my other priorities were for my first week back. Why not just tell me what you want…? The sugarcoating/sideways approach grates sometimes. Am very close to being able to talk about a pending change in my life.  More later (I’m such a tease).  I’m at home now killing a little time before taking Kramer to the vet.  In mere moments, I will have to cram put him into the carrier and endure the silent treatment as we drive to the poshy vet office in the Jewelry District. So I caught a Yahoo headline this morning (actually two), Shaq’s getting divorced after 5 years and so is Thierry Henry (didn’t know he was married).  Henry is also apparently not playing for Arsenal anymore.  Henry now earns $260K/week playing for Barcelona.  I called myself catching up on the  arsecasts I’d missed, but apparently I missed some key podcasts.  Even if you don’t follow English football regularly, the podcasts are pretty hilarious.  I found out during the World Cup last summer that Spike Lee is way into soccer (football) and that Henry is one of his favorite players. Kind of cool bit of trivia.  I got great seats for the Revolution game last month to see Beckham not play, and had a lot of fun despite that.

So when I googled the encyclopedias I mentioned earlier,  I found a set being auctioned off on Ebay for $9.99.  Now I don’t need them, but it would have been fun to win these.  I waited a little too long to bid and the winner didn’t have any challenges. Someone must teach me the art of “snipering” cuz I’m not getting it…Now of course, I must find another set.  The evil that is Ebay.