Ohhhhh Paris....sitting in the park pondering your pretty face, I lose the disgust I have had for you these past few weeks that you are an unfriendly and unloving city. I'm just cranky because my best friend just moved away and I'm too knocked up to run fast right now or hit stuff or have dance parties and margaritas. But sometimes you DO make me feel a bit like THIS....
I wandered around and got caught behind a pack of 17 year old French boys. All smoking. All snickering. All cocky. All wearing the exact same jeans. And all under 5'7. This is my future, I realized, as I am going to have a French boy as a son in two months. Wait, how did THAT happen? Is he gonna smoke and complain about everything in a thick French accent? Maybe by then, I'll actually understand the language.....
Ahhhhh...my favorite English school has a new affront to my senses up in the metro..."A new language! A new job!" As what? A serial killer whose signature is to lick the flag onto his victims? Seriously. Couldn't they have found a model who doesn't have bloodshot wandering dead eyes?
And last but not least, the award of the day for most unfortunate clothing store name goes to.....Teenflo, who, by the way, sell business casual, not maxipads and zit cream.
