Good Ol’ Q & A
I’ve decided to do a little Q & A for you folks back home, wondering what it’s like out here, in little Aix-en-Provence. These are questions I’ve been asked since I arrived.
How is Paris?
Ummm… Ok, let’s do a quick review:
France = country
Paris = city in France.
Paris ≠ where Emily lives.
Do French people really stink?
All right, as stereotypical and lame as that question is, I will answer, because I’d like to clear the air on this one (literally – hee, hee). Most people I’ve met DO NOT smell bad. Most people, in general, don’t have much of a smell at all. I must say, however, there is a machismo thing here in France (of course, what country doesn’t have a machismo thing?). Anyway, I’ve been told certain dudes think it is more macho not to wear deodorant. I guess these dudes think that smelling fresh and clean is only pansy, and that women desire men who smell like ass? All I have to say is, if dude thinks it’s macho to be stinky, he is, most likely, well… dinky.
Is the cheese/wine/bread/chocolate really as good as they say it is?
Oh-ho-ho-oooooh yes!!! I’m not really a big “cheese girl,” if you will, but they do have quite a selection here, and even people who don’t usually eat cheese find themselves eating cheese here, just because you’re, like, surrounded by it.
The wine? Well, if you can get a decent-tasting bottle of wine for like 1€, just imagine what joy and wonderment a 5€ bottle could bring you!!
The bread is amazing. It is always fresh, always has a great texture, and always tastes wonderful. I live by 3 different boulangeries (bakeries), so I’m pretty much never sans pain.
Chocolate, I hear, is delicious no matter where you go in Europe. Seriously, I don’t know if they put crack in the stuff or what, but it is absolutely delightful. Even the cheapest bar of chocolate here, is better than any expensive chocolate I’ve had back in the states.
Are French guys good kissers?
Now, this is an interesting question, because I’ve come up with a theory about this. Since I’ve been here, I have paid a lot of attention to the way that French people maneuver their mouths when they talk. It’s a very interesting phenomenon, because you wouldn’t think so, but you seriously have to retrain yourself how to talk by imitating the movements they make, in order to speak French properly. So, basically, from observation, I’ve concluded that French people have much stronger “bouches.” Thus, because of their stronger mouth muscles and their ability to move their mouths in those ever-so-fascinating ways, I believe French people may just be the best kissers in the world. So far, studies show I am correct in my hypothesis.
What sorts of things are different in France?
All sorts of things are much different here in France than they are in the states, but then again, many things are quite similar. “Some things are the same wherever you go. Like if it feels like more than two fingers, it’s probably a…” —Anyway, there are too many things to describe, so let’s go with something everyone is familiar with: public restrooms.
In many places, there are co-ed bathrooms. I don’t know if any of you knew this about France, but I certainly didn’t. Now, it really isn’t such a bad thing — in theory — but after much deliberation and man-pee on my boots, I’ve decided co-ed restrooms are just awful. You might think, “Oh, come on Em, how could it be that bad? It’s just a big ol’ room with multiple stalls, lockable doors and a whole bunch of sinks for everyone to wash their hands ensemble, right?”
Um, no. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies, it’s compromise, ladies and gentlemen. What you really get is a tiny little room with three dirty urinals and a small horse-stall door for the three unsuspecting men to hide behind, one closet with a hole in the floor and a flusher (this special room is for the ladies), one tiny sink, no soap, no t.p., the wonderful odor of piss, and a partridge in a pear tree, (really, there’s a painting on the wall of a partridge, or a seagull, or a kangaroo, whatever). Good times, eh?
What do you miss most about home?
Well, I miss a lot of things, but the top three are: Mexican food, art class, and (of course) my family and friends.
Who’s yo daddy?
Ok, seriously, who keeps asking me that? His name is Harlan. He lives in Oregon.
How is Paris?
Ummm… Ok, let’s do a quick review:
France = country
Paris = city in France.
Paris ≠ where Emily lives.
Do French people really stink?
All right, as stereotypical and lame as that question is, I will answer, because I’d like to clear the air on this one (literally – hee, hee). Most people I’ve met DO NOT smell bad. Most people, in general, don’t have much of a smell at all. I must say, however, there is a machismo thing here in France (of course, what country doesn’t have a machismo thing?). Anyway, I’ve been told certain dudes think it is more macho not to wear deodorant. I guess these dudes think that smelling fresh and clean is only pansy, and that women desire men who smell like ass? All I have to say is, if dude thinks it’s macho to be stinky, he is, most likely, well… dinky.
Is the cheese/wine/bread/chocolate really as good as they say it is?
Oh-ho-ho-oooooh yes!!! I’m not really a big “cheese girl,” if you will, but they do have quite a selection here, and even people who don’t usually eat cheese find themselves eating cheese here, just because you’re, like, surrounded by it.
The wine? Well, if you can get a decent-tasting bottle of wine for like 1€, just imagine what joy and wonderment a 5€ bottle could bring you!!
The bread is amazing. It is always fresh, always has a great texture, and always tastes wonderful. I live by 3 different boulangeries (bakeries), so I’m pretty much never sans pain.
Chocolate, I hear, is delicious no matter where you go in Europe. Seriously, I don’t know if they put crack in the stuff or what, but it is absolutely delightful. Even the cheapest bar of chocolate here, is better than any expensive chocolate I’ve had back in the states.
Are French guys good kissers?
Now, this is an interesting question, because I’ve come up with a theory about this. Since I’ve been here, I have paid a lot of attention to the way that French people maneuver their mouths when they talk. It’s a very interesting phenomenon, because you wouldn’t think so, but you seriously have to retrain yourself how to talk by imitating the movements they make, in order to speak French properly. So, basically, from observation, I’ve concluded that French people have much stronger “bouches.” Thus, because of their stronger mouth muscles and their ability to move their mouths in those ever-so-fascinating ways, I believe French people may just be the best kissers in the world. So far, studies show I am correct in my hypothesis.
What sorts of things are different in France?
All sorts of things are much different here in France than they are in the states, but then again, many things are quite similar. “Some things are the same wherever you go. Like if it feels like more than two fingers, it’s probably a…” —Anyway, there are too many things to describe, so let’s go with something everyone is familiar with: public restrooms.
In many places, there are co-ed bathrooms. I don’t know if any of you knew this about France, but I certainly didn’t. Now, it really isn’t such a bad thing — in theory — but after much deliberation and man-pee on my boots, I’ve decided co-ed restrooms are just awful. You might think, “Oh, come on Em, how could it be that bad? It’s just a big ol’ room with multiple stalls, lockable doors and a whole bunch of sinks for everyone to wash their hands ensemble, right?”
Um, no. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies, it’s compromise, ladies and gentlemen. What you really get is a tiny little room with three dirty urinals and a small horse-stall door for the three unsuspecting men to hide behind, one closet with a hole in the floor and a flusher (this special room is for the ladies), one tiny sink, no soap, no t.p., the wonderful odor of piss, and a partridge in a pear tree, (really, there’s a painting on the wall of a partridge, or a seagull, or a kangaroo, whatever). Good times, eh?
What do you miss most about home?
Well, I miss a lot of things, but the top three are: Mexican food, art class, and (of course) my family and friends.
Who’s yo daddy?
Ok, seriously, who keeps asking me that? His name is Harlan. He lives in Oregon.
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