Oui Oui Paris

FYI

2010-08-29T21:45:00.001+02:00

I've moved to Washington, DC, so the profile now reflects that. I'm starting a blog over there, but still am able to entertain any questions about Paris and Sciences Po. Bon chance to all!

Bonne Nouvelle Année!

2009-12-31T19:29:00.001+01:00

Wishing you a new year that exceeds what you deserve and is better than you imagined!

Dear Paris, merci pour tout

2009-11-07T21:38:00.002+01:00

On my last day in Paris and she gave me a beautiful rainbow.

PS. I will be keeping the Oui 2 Paris blog for a while as I have much to post of photos and stories and reviews (bagel-tasting around town, trip to Versailles, street art, visits to lesser known museums, etc..)

A visit to Victor Hugo

2009-10-17T17:38:00.010+02:00

Victor-Marie Hugo was a French poet, playwright, novelist, essayist, visual artist, statesman, human rights activist and exponent of the Romantic movement in France.

In France, Hugo's literary fame comes first from his poetry but also rests upon his novels and his dramatic achievements. Among many volumes of poetry, Les Contemplations and La Légende des siècles stand particularly high in critical esteem, and Hugo is sometimes identified as the greatest French poet. Outside France, his best-known works are the novels Les Misérables and Notre-Dame de Paris (known in English also as The Hunchback of Notre Dame).

Though a committed conservative royalist when he was young, Hugo grew more liberal as the decades passed; he became a passionate supporter of republicanism, and his work touches upon most of the political and social issues and artistic trends of his time. He is buried in the Panthéon.

The City of Paris has preserved his residence at 6 Place des Vosges as a museum.

(c/o Wikipedia)

the inkstands and pens of Lamartine, George Sand, Alexandre Dumas, and of Victor Hugo himself

Place des Vosges

Autumn at Place des Vosges

Le Panthéon in photos

2009-10-17T17:18:00.004+02:00

Women are Heroes - Nuit Blanche

2009-09-29T17:43:00.002+02:00

Women are Heroes exhibit in Paris during Nuit Blanche (October 3, 7pm - October 4, 7am)

Having presented his portraits of women in Brazil, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Cambodia, India, Belgium, Britain and other countries, JR is showing the whole of his «Women» exhibition for the first time.

After «Portraits of a Generation», inspired by events in the suburbs of Paris, and «Face 2Face», which was displayed in the Middle East, «Women» is the third phase of the 28 Millimetre project, taking its name from the wide-angle lens that requires the photographer to be only centimetres from the model in order to take the portrait.

WOMEN ARE HEROES

WOMEN grew out of many pictures and few words. JR’s words were necessary, of course, to convince more than 70 women around the world to take part in the project. JR went to meet those living in the shadows, the real pillars of their societies despite daily violence, wars or simply discrimination. His desire to shift certain limits by using unusual places allows him to deal with subjects in the news in an innovative way. From 3 October to 2 November, through this exhibition and a book, people will learn all about this adventure that took JR to ten countries on four continents.

Health Care Abroad: France

2009-09-17T17:10:00.002+02:00

(click the NYT logo above)

Victor G. Rodwin is a professor of health policy and management at the Wagner School of Public Service at New York University and co-director of the World Cities Project, International Longevity Center-USA. He teaches courses on health system comparisons and has widely published on the French health care system. He spoke with the blog contributors Sarah Arnquist and Anne Underwood.

This is the third in a series of occasional posts describing health care delivery in other countries. Previous posts have described Canada and Japan.

The big question: What will I do?

2009-09-08T10:34:00.000+02:00

Yup, degree attained. Check.

So, what's next?

Well, my dad's health kind of hit me in a way that I wasn't anticipating. I'd spent a large portion of 34 years (probably between ages 12 - 26) disliking my family entirely, then a smaller portion (26-32) spent loving them but not really being so interested in hanging out with them. This past year I sort of started missing them until I realized I was truly very homesick - not for a place but for these people.

Around the same time, my grandmother moved into an assisted living residence and the farm was sold. I lived 6 years in Madison, Wisconsin - the longest I've lived anywhere. Right behind this milestone, is the farm, where I spent several summers and many holidays. Neither of these places hold very much sentimentality for me now. I didn't drive by my old apartment on Gilman Street. I didn't drive out to see the farm land. But I did make a point of seeing the people. And I've missed them. My ex-boyfriend and great friend, Josh, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles (just missing many of my favorites too - yup, talking to you, Kim!), cousins, new 2nd cousins, past co-workers, etc... I guess there isn't a specific location that provides me community, but it's found with each of these folks.

What about Paris? Well, I had a community for two years while attending Sciences Po. Didn't give myself much of a chance to make a huge one outside of the school though.

Now, almost all of those student-friends have flown off to other parts of the world. I do adore and love Paris, and it is a moveable feast as I've felt her when outside the borders. Interestingly though, while I was in the States those past 3 weeks, I didn't miss her quite as badly as I thought would. Although, I complained about the horrible food in the US, the bad TV (why on earth is Mad Men a good show?!), the largeness of the people, and the lack of public garbage cans in neighborhoods (who wants to carry dog poop in a bag for blocks and blocks?). Meanwhile, I hailed the Parisian transportation system, the veggies and fruits that taste like themselves, the warm pain au chocolat in the morning, the warm baguette in the evening, the fresh cheese shops, the fresh seafood shops, the fresh meat shops (even as a vegetarian I have an appreciation), the beauty of the city, the wine, the ... the... the...

Nonetheless, I also noticed that the two cities have commonalities. Both have different types of convenience and friendliness. There's, also, a different sort of beauty in the US: a sweetness in the sunset, unlike Paris' burning fires or quiet disappearing act. Where I've photographed Paris sidewalks marked with shoeprints of dog poo and stained with the star-like splatter from drunk puking, I found strange beauty in the States' soulless, boxy megalomania that serves up vomitus overwhelming and over-colored selections of product.

At one point, just before returning to Paris, my Facebook status was "would like an apartment on the fence - where the grass is green on both sides." I guess, really it is. Every place has positive qualities and horrors. It's just happens that, right now, the US place also has my friends and family.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

So, for now, I'm checking one-way dates. Looking for jobs. AND! Making a list of things/places/people I should see in/around Paris before leaving. Any suggestions welcome!

-Musee de l'Erotisme
-Museum National d'Histoire Naturelle in Jardins des Plantes
-Parc Belleville
-Rue St Vincent (18eme)
-Parc des Buttes Chaumont
-Jardin du Luxembourg
-Montparnasse: Cimitere de Montparnasse; Le Dôme, Dingo Bar, La Closerie des Lilas, La Rotonde, Le Select, La Coupole; rue de la Gaité; Musée du Montparnasse
-Higuma restaurant
-Jeu de Paume
-Versailles

**Seen this weekend: The Galeries de Paléontologie et d'Anatomie Comparée, Le Marche aux Puces de Saint-Ouen, the Catacombs, Musee Gustave Moreau

I have missed Paris

2009-08-30T03:13:00.002+02:00

Came to the US for a few weeks as my father was ill. He's doing much, much better after surgery and recovery. I'll be back in Parisland on Wednesday.

I've missed cobblestone walks, strong and short espresso, pain au chocolat, my view of the 9eme, the incredible skies, hot and fresh bread in the early evening, fresh anything from the grocer's, and taking my time.

Some of Paris in Photos

2009-08-02T17:20:00.000+02:00

Rings on the metro

Friends holding hands

Los Muchachos

Seine

"The Ticket"

from the Tuileries

Tuileries

Eiffel Tour, Concorde, Tuileries

l'arbre des voyelles de Giuseppe Penone (here)

Dog at La Frégate

Napping on Champs de Mars

La Tour on Bastille Day

Comparing funky apartment keys

U2 in Stade de France

Wedding photos in Villette

Bamboo in Villette

Picnic in Villette

Villette

Merde

visiting Paris

2009-07-10T13:49:00.000+02:00

It's hard to come up with a good list of recommendations for friends and family when they're here. I haven't even seen most of Paris and I've lived here for almost 2 years!

But, here's a bit of what I often suggest.

The most obvious, which you can walk in a day really and involves just following the Seine*:
Notre Dame
Louvre
Jardin des Tuileries
Arc de Triomphe
Eiffel Tower
*Be sure to get off the asphalt, away from the cars, and take the stairs down to follow along the Seine.

Or, just stick to the Îles de la Cité and Saint-Louis

Leave the Seine and go up the hill:
Here's a Gmap Pedometer map of a suggested walk through the neighborhood of Pigalle / Montmartre

Pigalle's red light district: if you are there around sunset into early evening you get to see the lights come up in all the sex shops. It makes Paris the "City of Lights" for sure.

I have yet to go to the Musee of Erotica, but hear it is fascinating.

The Moulin Rouge is at Metro Blanche. It is truly unimpressive and not so pretty, but historic nonetheless. I haven't paid for the show yet so I can't comment.

Walk up Rue Lepic to see the Cafe des Deux Moulins (where the character Amelie worked).

Turn right on Rue Abbesses and wander until you hit the fabric district, which also turns into the tourist district because if you look up the hill, on your left there's the Sacre Coeur. Before climbing the hundreds of stairs to the top, fill up on a crepe. I've tried crepes around the city and seriously haven't found a better one than at Le Ronsard - directly in front of the stairs leading up to the Coeur. It's a beautiful church (entry is allowed - even during mass, no fee) and there's an amazing view of Paris. I hear there is a tower with a better view - I've yet to find it.

Leave from behind the Sacre Coeur and wind your way through the charming and impressive neighborhood of Montmartre. See if you can spot Johnny Depp anywhere (my running joke, as I hear he lives in this area).

Stop by the Musee de Montmartre - it houses the history and famous posters of absinthe, but doesn't sell any. A quiet, small courtyard is within the backyard of the museum. Head out of the museum and follow the street as it curves around to Place Dalida. Cut through the passageway, curve around Avenue Junot and keep an eye out for a small set of stone stairs. Follow this passageway past a private bocce courtyard, around an old tree stump, through Hameau des Artistes, which is apparently a hamlet of artists' studios. Head down the stairs and back onto the street. Head to the Cimetière de Montmartre, which houses aforementioned Dalida and a bunch of other great folks. It's super hard to find the entryway, which is tucked away off of Blvd Clichy on Avenue Rachel. While this cemetery doesn't offer Jim Morrison, it does have an abundance of wild cats.

Markets:

Wednesdays and Saturdays the market at Metro Barbes is crazy. It caters to an African clientele, offering melons to peppers to fish to olives (most things go for 1€/kilo). Here's a schedule of all the markets.

Paris as museum:

Really, you don't need to DO anything in Paris but wander and get lost. The city itself is a museum. I really like walking from my apartment up at Pig-Momo all the way south to the river, especially through the Marais area on a Sunday when the rest of Paris is closed.

I always recommend saving Sunday for a falafel on rue Rosiers. I've tried fallafels elsewhere in the world and have yet to find one that beats those in Paris. I'm still debating between whether the best in all the lands is found at Chez Marianne or at L'As du Fallafel (which is promoted by the NYT).

Crossing over the Seine, I love making a stop at Shakespeare and Co bookstore (this is a long film about the dude, George Whitman, who owned and operated it). Saint Germain des Pres has become my second home quartier (neighborhood) after the Pig-Momo hill. My first year of school was at 224 and my second year at 117, basically between the rue du Bac metro and Odeon. And I've walked between both a zillion times, never tiring of it.

At Odeon, turn into the small rue called Cour du Commerce de Saint-Andre. It's a quaint pedestrian-only path. At the end, at 66 Rue Saint-Andres des Arts, I had one of the best French meals at Vins et Terroirs. Finish the loop by continuing on Saint-Andres, which turns into rue de Buci and back out onto Saint Germain. Keep on and you run into the church. Despite the price, it's worth sitting outside (or inside if weather or the crowd pushes you indoors) at the Deux Magots - not only have so many famous people have had coffee there, but it's central to history as so many places are in Paris.

Strolling further on Saint Germain can be painful unless you've got a nice wad of cash to spend in some of the luxury brand stores -- imagine us poor grad students shuffling around this area. I've been wearing some of the same clothes since high school and definitely the same clothes over the past two years as the Armani seasons pass over the windows. Alas, there are some cheaper gems buried within the district, mostly in pub or eatery fashion. I've never had a better chevre chaud salad than those served across the street from Sciences Po at Cafe Basile.

Walk up rue du Bac and you'll be in antique heaven, if you aren't the type to be offended by wares stolen by European patriarchs. Reaching the Seine again, the Musee d'Orsay is just a hop away. I thought I hated impressionism, but having it all in one place and seeing the patterns and colors in this ex-railway station is incredibly cool (photos of the museum in here). And it is here that I first understood why the impressionists chose Paris and France, and saw the beautiful French sky represented accurately.

I've found the Palais Royal an amazing garden (featured in this NYT article on secret gardens), despite much of it locked under construction. Ahhh, but I've heard of way cooler and way prettier gardens. Really, there's so much I've missed while being locked under paper-writing. I haven't been to the Picasso museum or really explored the Jardin du Luxembourg. Thus, I'm spending much of my time right now trying to score a way to be based out of Paris as a consultant. So, instead of visiting Paris, I can live here!!

(Pig-Momo to Palais Royal walk here.)

No longer a B student

2009-06-16T22:14:00.003+02:00

Cumulative grade point average: A-

Graduation is on Thursday. I wonder if they hand out already-framed diplomas. That would be awesome.

Paris is particularly beautiful right now.

Oh, vacation suits me well

2009-06-09T00:50:00.002+02:00

Some photos from the 644 total of southern France are up on flickr now.

Including: Cordes-sur-Ciel, Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val, and at a bend in the river sunning while watching rock climbers and military men on break jumping into the river and canoeing

Yet to go:

343 photos of...
France to Andorra via car and beautiful windy roads: I've seen heaven and it is the sunlight on the mountains. I've seen hell and it is Andorra duty-free city. I also have really awesome friends who drive like champions and make kick ass road trip soundtracks.

218 photos of...
Barcelona

And, am currently in Switzerland eating well, drinking good wine, enjoying the rains, and planning for future use of the documentary we made for our graduation project (curious what my grades are but unaffected by the doom or delight).

Cheers!

Countdown

2009-05-28T11:24:00.000+02:00

Sorry to whomever asked for the translation in the previous blog post:
"Pardon?" I asked.
"Pardon (me)?"

"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
"Is it me that you're looking for?"

"Pardon?"
"Pardon (me)?" (still not understanding)

"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
"Is it me that you're looking for?"

I giggled, "Oh, non, desole, c'est ne pas vous aujourd'hui - autre fois peut-etre."
"Oh, no, sorry, it's not you today - another time maybe."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

So...
Major project presented. Major meeting now over copyright ownership between the program and us students. (Yes, the film is THAT good!)

One memo left - working on now. Everything turned in on Friday. And I'm done!

I'll leave Sunday to Toulouse for a couple of days with friends from back home in Madison, WI. Then, Barcelona for a couple of days. Then, Geneva for several days. Back for graduation on the 18th. My sister and her fiance come to town that day. We stay in Paris until the 23rd, head to Cinque Terre Italy, then off to some yet TBD destination, and then Amsterdam for several days. Wooo whirlwind!

Paris? Well, she's doing well. A two-day heat wave and now it's back to chilly cold. Strange weather, indeed. Anything outside of that and I'm clueless. Nose in the books right now.

Merci, Paris, for a Trés Joyeux Anniversaire

2009-05-13T22:13:00.001+02:00

Wonderful day!

Thanks, Starman, for the well wishes!

Today was lovely cloudy/sunny/humid/hot day of heaven! I made it on time to the Sciences Po American Center to pick up my student loan check, found out that the woman who helps me with this shares the same birthday! She, being more diligent than I, was working, while I skipped class to run errands and chill out.

Stopped at my favorite boulangerie, got a crudite avec gruyere sandwich, then got lost for an hour and half with my camera in the Tuilleries. Met the landlord/proprietere and got the paperwork I needed for my application for the temporary residence permit. Took a stroll along the Seine, realized I wouldn't make the hair appointment at Cizor's on time, called in late, took a bit of a metro.

I'm kind of a sensitive, sensuous person so haircuts and hair washing are like meditation joy for me. I had THE best head massage ever today from Stephane as he washed my hair, and I got to lie in the chair a bit longer than usual for some coloring, which means I got more chair back massage and got to float longer. Delicious joy. Walked home the long way, and noticed zillions of men smiling at me. Maybe it was the new 'do? Maybe it was because I just felt great in the sun and humidity? Maybe it was because I was doing some reverse-aging?

One the way home, I was taking a photo of a sewing machine through a store window and then kept walking. This older guy stopped me, smiled, and said blah blah blah blah? I took my earbuds out.

"Pardon?" I asked.
"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
"Pardon?"
"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
I giggled, "Oh, non, desole, c'est ne pas vous aujourd'hui - autre fois peut-etre." We both laughed and he called me trés something nice. I wandered the rest of the way home, without looking at the map, and just sensing directions to go toward.

Then, just as I punched the door code for my building it started raining and pouring. Lucky day. Great day! Merci a my family and friends.

Verdicts in Paris

2009-05-10T19:41:00.000+02:00

Verdict #1

Guess who's moved into the neighborhood? And that could be good or bad for me (verdict is out on this one thus far).

Verdict #2

You no longer have to fear the biker gang, because it's the scooter gang that is out to get you.

Verdict #3

A lot of people look great, but I bet they spent two hours trying to look this way.

Verdict #4

Paris is beautiful in the spring, but it makes me sneeze for all the tree pollen.

Verdict #5

Some people on the metro have super cool shoes, and I bet their feet feel the same way.

Verdict #6

Fire makes paper look cool, but is not nice for an apartment or person

Verdict #7

"Ciflorette is a variety with a fruity taste with a slight flavour of wild strawberry. The children particularly like its perfect sweetened/tangy balance. Its fruit is elongated and of a beautiful orangy red colour." Medium early (Beginning March to mid-May).

It is smaller and way better than the humongous, over-hormoned strawberries that I ate in the USA.

yup

2009-05-02T22:41:00.000+02:00

90 people get the swine flu and everybody wants to wear a mask. 30-40 million people have AIDS and no one wants to wear a condom.

[quoted from the www]

For Starman, RE: financial crisis

2009-04-28T22:28:00.002+02:00

Really. I don't know how Europe is weathering the recession. Not that I can't comment, but I've been rather insulated from the inside scoop. It's been a lot of doom and gloom all over the world, but the US's market is heavily consumer based and driven by credit. The EU as a whole is a larger consumer base than the US, but parts (Germany) export more strongly and the money market is not the same. The USD to Euro is holding pretty steady at $1.30-ish over the past months. Unemployment has risen all over the world, but the social services net is wider and stronger in the EU to help citizens get back on their feet (in their same sector or otherwise, remaining healthy, and protecting their pensions), which leads to continued stability through small business loans, consumption, production for exports, etc. Also, they haven't had the enormous banking crises that the US has had. Perhaps due to better regulation, better banking practices, or just the fact that the banking sector is less influencing (while still tied globally and having purchased the same MBS purchases).

So, in my unprofessional personal opinion, I think the EU is fairing better in this recession, but is still feeling it.

Here's a portion of what the European Central Bank said on 27 April 2009

"First, there are profound differences in the financial structures of the euro area and the United States. The United States has a primarily market-based financial system; in contrast, the financial system of the euro area is largely bank-centred. A few numbers illustrate these differences. At the end of 2007, the stock of outstanding bank loans to the private sector amounted to around 145% of GDP in the euro area. The corresponding proportion of bank loans to GDP in the United States is only 63%. This means that the banking sector is more than twice as important in the euro area as it is in the United States. It also means that to be effective, ECB policy must focus first and foremost on the banking sector.

Similarly, direct debt securities account for 81% of GDP in the euro area. The corresponding proportion in the United States is 168%. This means that market-based financing plays a much smaller role in the euro area and is only half as relevant as in the United States. Therefore, the structures of private credit outstanding in the euro area and the United States are almost mirror images: recourse to banks on our side of the Atlantic makes up two-thirds of non-equity external finance. On this side, the equivalent proportion is only around 30%. Against this background, it is natural that the Federal Reserve’s “credit easing” policies mainly target markets for debt securities, whereas our policies of “enhanced credit support” focus on banks.

There are also many profound differences in our respective economic structures, which of course are also reflected in financial structures. For the sake of brevity, I will single out three characteristics of the euro area economy that our policies have to take into account in order to be effective.

The first characteristic is the very important role that small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) play for the euro area economy. These SMEs in general cannot tap credit markets directly. Guaranteeing continued access to bank credit is vital for SMEs to be able to finance their activities.

The second characteristic is the role of the housing market in the crisis. In the United States, the housing market is at the epicentre of the crisis. This is not true for the euro area. Nevertheless, the euro area is indirectly affected as banks there hold toxic assets partly backed by mortgage loans originated in the United States. Forcefully addressing the toxic asset problem is a precondition for reviving credit on both sides of the Atlantic. I should add that addressing this problem clearly falls into the realm of fiscal policy, not monetary policy.

The third characteristic is the flexibility of the economy. Goods and services prices and wages are more sluggish in the euro area than in the United States. This sluggishness, on the one hand, has drawbacks as it slows down the adjustment of the euro area economy to adverse shocks. At the same time it offers some protection against very bad outcomes, provided that the policy framework provides a solid anchor for private sector expectations. In the euro area, the institutional framework provides such an anchor through the medium-term stability orientation of fiscal policies and monetary policy geared towards fiscal sustainability and price stability. In this environment, overly activist policies risk destabilising expectations and, thus, being counterproductive.

In technical terms, I would say that acknowledging the existence of structural differences between the euro area and the United States is crucial for understanding the mechanisms behind the policy models and concepts that we use in our decision-making processes. Structural differences imply that the policy response has to be calibrated to the structure of the economy."

And, here's what the French finance minister, Christine Lagarde said on Jon Stewart's "The Daily Show" - we're all in it together, so don a beret and grab a glass of wine. Somehow we'll pull through.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

M - Th 11p / 10c

Christine Lagarde

thedailyshow.com

Daily Show
Full Episodes

Economic Crisis

First 100 Days

Why I've been so quiet

2009-04-26T16:32:00.003+02:00

Last month of grad school:
Multilevel Economic Governance: paper on deepening my examination of the US-Colombia trade agreement, trade as a whole, FTAs, WTO, waivers, pros and cons
Risk Governance: we have to re-work last semeter's paper = Regulatory Risk, EU Commission and anti-discrimation directives on Member States
Final Capstone Project: we're writing the final script of our documentary (see my Risk paper), Croatia is our case study as they ascend to the EU

Speaking of Croatia, I'm uploading the photos from our trip to Zagreb. Should be up on flickr by end of today.

And then the on-going job hunt. Narrowing in on Geneva. Aiming to shop around the documentary and mapping exercise (business, legal, moral case for diversity management in Europe) to consultancies, NGOs, governments.

Paris is in full spring bloom with hot days followed by cool rains. Oh, and I posted photos from the Paris Marathon on flickr. I never found my girl friend who ran, but there are some pretty interesting shots of the finish, which I hope convey the overwhelming sense of endorphins that was in the air then.

I can't believe I'll have a Master soon. It's mind blowing. My sister and her fiance are coming in June after graduation and we're looking at heading to Cinque Terre again. It's such a beautiful part of the world.

Spring, my friends

2009-04-03T12:17:00.003+02:00

It's warmer out and sunny (although not today). I'm walking around more, enjoying the city, falling in love with Paris and all the couples who are in love by the Seine.

I'm also headed to Croatia on Monday for 6 days for my Capstone project. We've got interviews with Ministers, the UNDP, human rights groups, etc. And, will hopefully have some time for some frolic, too. I'm looking 1.5 months of real class work right now and it's scary. Two major papers to write, two memos, final project. And job hunting. And trying to have a personal life. My best friend from when I was fifteen years old is coming to visit in 2 weeks with her husband (with whom we went to school). I haven't seen her since Cape Cod in 1992. It'll be a trip, for sure.

Paris is beautiful right now. I'm trying to soak her up as best as I can, because who knows where I'll be in the autumn. I'm really focusing on Geneve, Paris, Brussels, DC, NYC, and SF. I like cities. If you know of anyone who is hiring -- hook a sister up!

PS. Thanks, Kim, you're too sweet.

Considering employment in the US

2009-03-10T22:38:00.002+01:00

I've been rather adamant about wanting to find a job in the EU after graduation, but I'm finding myself becoming more agitated with the flow of traffic here.

Yes yes, I acknowledge that one could cite the US as having a somewhat Communist bent to its rules of the game. Washington DC does not allow beverages into its metro system. We curse the FIBs (F*$%ing Illinois Bast$%ds) on the highway because they have no concept of slow lane is right, fast lane is left.

But here, as I've lamented before, there's just no rhyme or reason I've found for the pedestrian movement.

For instance, I would love designated lanes for entry into, use of, and exit of the metros. Descending and ascending, there could be a far right lane for those who are unfortunate to have to beg spare change. Next lane over would be older persons carting their groceries or families with baby strollers. Middle lane is the middle, ambling drunk or just moseying through traffic to the metro. Inner left lane, would be those who are usually trying to weave and duck through with purpose. Then, far left lane is reserved for those on a mission and running, late for the TGV out of town.

Well, I'd have to restructure this for coming and going flow on the same stairs though. So, first two lanes on either side are for change-seekers and cart-carriers. The middle lane would be for those who are weaving and dodging around those who are meandering and drunk-walking. That would be a slight improvement at least.

Sidewalks would have to be a territory of elbows. Those chatting for good times would kindly ease to the inner side to allow for those moving to pass. Instead of the usual: person chatting is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, taking up the precious space within a surrounding construction scaffolding, while another person walking through needs to step into traffic and doggie doo in the gutter of the street to get around.

I've found myself in this precarious position and have said, "Pardon" with slight irritation and am still stared at like I'm the one who can't navigate my own way. True that, for I just haven't come to comprehend the secret rules of the game. If someone could inform me, I'd be much obliged. Instead, I do a bicycle-rider's over-shoulder check to see if I'm about to step in front of a car (which I notice most people don't do - self-centered? living dangerously? confidence? awesome life insurance?) and then I dance around poopie and get back on the sidewalk.

Yes, I love living here. Don't get me wrong. Yes, I'm blatantly ignorant to the system. Yes, people here live on a healthier life pace of sipping coffees, talking for long hours with friends in cafes, riding a metro line that might break down for 15 minutes (which requires the long-distance trains to build in a refund and petition process if you miss you train), and gyms are foreign. Running is a strange pastime. Rushing is rare. Life is short and to be lived fully. I love all this. But when it comes to me getting somewhere, walking for sport or purpose, I'm dumb-founded.

Obviously, with all the thought and contemplation on this issue, I still have no idea why they do it and why I don't get it. It's not just the French, I think it's actually extended to Europeans. I can't "teach" people do it differently. I'm trying to understand and learn. And, I have NOTHING. No idea why or how. I did try to chalk it up to the awesome social security policies, which could create an all-for-me attitude. I've read about the French independence, but I find it more of a distrust of others instead of the American interdependence independence.

Anyway, this small, insignificant, surmountable cultural difference does make me wonder for some reason if I wouldn't be better off back in the USA. And this leads me to wonder if a lot of us do this. Migrate and then return for those simple facts: knowing "home," understanding the culture fully. We enjoy others fully but are still interested to go back with new knowledge and appreciation for other places and people with a longing to just... well, flow with the river. Right side slower, left side faster.

Gwyneth Paltrow's Paris

2009-02-27T09:08:00.002+01:00

I find it fascinating that she's basically hanging out in my school's neighborhood. Not that I'm an adoring fan, but it's pretty cool. While I know nothing about her, she and her mom are huge supporters of Planned Parenthood and that makes her a good person on one count.

Remember: There's all kinds of love

2009-02-13T21:56:00.000+01:00

Happy Valentine's Day!
(click an image to enlarge)

Le Drugstore

2009-02-05T01:04:00.001+01:00

On Skype the other day with my parents, my mum mentioned she'd found a matchbook from back in the day. My mum - along with many (?) of her generation - traveled quite a bit back in the day. I remember her telling me and my sister how she had a book detailing how to live on 5$ a day in Europe. She left Australia sometime in her early twenties (I'm taking liberties here, mum, if you have adjustments to these facts, please do tell) and went on a wild adventure around the world. [Not to make my dad jealous of this tale, he, too, was in his own adventure after graduating from the US Air Force Academy. They met in Taiwan when he was stationed there for the Vietnam war.] One night when I was about 15 years old, we were living in Oklahoma and I couldn't sleep. So, I took to down-right inappropriate spying and went through my mum's memory chest that was sitting out in the living room. I found all these amazing black and white and early color photos from places all over the world with all different kinds of people - I remember a photo of some white-bleached-dyed-hair woman, sitting on a bed (in a hotel?), with her hair all up in ratty spazness, her eyes bugged out with a silly grin. The light in the photo tells me it was daytime and I imagine they were waking up, getting dressed, fixing their hair to go out on the town for another long day of tourism and .... dare I say, boys? I think she was one of the many traveling friends of my mum's. So, if my mum said she found a matchbook - it meant she found a cool piece of history.

She told me it was from a drugstore in Paris on Boulevard Saint Germain, and that using Google Maps (which is totally awesome now that they have the on-ground photos) she'd found that the drugstore was now replaced by some high fashion store. Well, Blvd St Germain has definitely turned high end fashion, in fact it's rather depressing to be a poor grad student walking around in this neighborhood with all the cool art galleries, amazing clothes stores, and Bobo cafés.

So, the other day I set out to find this place, asked her to send photos of the matchbook and asked if she'd mind if I posted it all here.

In the meantime, I had brunch the other day with a school colleague and his friends, an older gentleman and his wife. The older gentleman had worked for the NYT distribution sales or somesuch, wherein they sell the NYT news to other editors and other news outlets. His lovely wife had a very accomplished career, as well, and had know-who and know-how coming out of her beautiful ears. They've lived in Paris for over 20 years and every Sunday they have brunch at Le Deux Magots, directly across the street from where said "drugstore" was located. Poor grad student that I am, I was thoroughly grateful for the company and the meal. Well, I shared the story of the matchbook with them and she told me a bit about the "drugstore," aka "Le Drugstore."

Mum told me she'd been in Paris in 1968, not around the time of the May 1968 riots though. I wrote her back joking that she'd picked up the matches to have a super cool smoke over at Le Deux Magots while people-watching in an arty neighborhood. Lo and behold, as I was envisioning a small pharmacy drugstore, the woman at brunch was telling me all kinds of stories about how it was NOT at all that. In fact, Le Drugstore was a high-end drugstore of sorts where young women could buy classy perfume or more expensive hair brushes. Young people gathered there late into the night for food and conversation, as it was one of the only places in Paris open late into the night. It sounded more like London's Harrods, which mum had told me about, hanging out there around the same time in the late '60s, and where she'd bought the famous brown leather skirt and matching jacket that I've worn almost to death over the years.

This woman also mentioned that Le Drugstore was the site where so-and-so was shot and killed. The conversational din in the background prevented me from hearing his name and I felt like an idiot for not knowing, as it sounded like some political history with which I should be familiar. She also said that the neighborhood was up in arms when Armani's moved in, as it suggested the formal transition of the neighborhood to something more commercial. So, we wrapped up brunch and I took some snaps of where Le Drugstore used to be, now replaced by Armani's. Next to the La Brasserie Lipp (beware embedded music on website) and down the block from La Taverne Saint-Germain.

Where Le Drugstore used to be - replaced by Armani's.

La Taverne Saint-Germain

Brasserie Lipp

Brasserie Lipp and Armani's

Armani's and 149 Blvd Saint Germain

149 Saint Germain

Armani's to the corner

Matchbook of Le Drugstore

Inside matchbook of Le Drugstore, 1968

"Boulevard St-Germain

Ce boulevard fut percé à travers un dédale de petites rue moyenageuses entre les années 1855 et 1866.

On lui donna le nom de la plus vieille église de PARIS, St-Germain-des-Prés, église romane à choeur gothique dont la présence a longtemps rythmé la vie de ce quartier. Aujourd'hui encore artistes et intellectuels se retrouvent sur la place a Café de Flore, aux Deux Magots, chez Lipp, ou au Drugstore St-Germain, tandis que libraires et antiquaires abondent tout au long du boulevard.

Régie Française

_____Refermer la pochette
avant d'enflammer l'allumette

publistar"

Thanks, mum. It's so very cool to be in the same place you were once -- before I was born or even a thought, and perhaps with different landscape.

Some news and mentions of Le Drugstore:

Chelsea Drugstore in the 1970s

The modern glass and aluminium frontage of the Chelsea Drug store shocked Royal Avenue residents when it opened in July 1968. They were even more appalled by the clientele. The residents demanded that access to the King's Road was closed, which was done in 1971. Chelsea Drugstore was modelled on Le Drugstore on Boulevard St Germain in Paris. Arranged over three floors the complex included bars, food outlets, a chemist, newsstand, record store and boutiques. It was open 16 hours a day, seven days a week. A major attraction was the ‘flying squad’ delivery service. This was made up young ladies in purple catsuits using motorcycles to make home deliveries.

"Paris became a focal point for Palestinians who were prepared to use French sanctuary to plan and carry out operations against Israeli targets or against rival Arab factions....The most infamous of these was a grenade attack on the Jewish-owned Le Drugstore café complex in Paris in September 1974. Two people died, and thirty four were wounded in the explosion, which was launched in support of another operation: a hostage siege at the French embassy in The Hague, where Japanese Red Army terrorists were trying to force the French government to release one of their members. This operation succeeded; the jailed terrorist was released, and he and his colleagues were flown to the Middle East with hostages and a large cash ransom." The Deadly Sin of Terrorism: Its Effect on Democracy and Civil Liberty in Six Countries, 1994

Le Publicis Drugstore (one in the chain of Le Drugstore):

Drugstore with a French accent Feb 2004

A startling new building - or, at least, a new façade - was unveiled last week on one of the most visible sites in Paris, at the top of the Avenue des Champs- Elysées. Depending on your level of architectural sophistication, the building looks like an exciting swirl of reflecting glass shards, or a standard 1960s glass shoe-box that has just had an accident with an aircraft.

The building, designed by a computer and the Californian architect Michele Saee, is an attempt to recreate a part of modern French history - Le Drugstore. In the early 1960s, an all-night shop and café of that name, on this site, became the favoured haunt of young and wealthy Parisians, in the days when American culture was regarded as chouette (cool).

After a fire in 1972, it was rebuilt, only to decline in recent years into a seedy labyrinth of late-night shops and cafés. The new drugstore has a brasserie with glass walls and extraordinary views of the avenue, an exclusive restaurant, two bookshops, a wine-shop, a grocery and a pharmacy.

It may not resemble any drugstore that I remember in the US, but it's a fitting symbol for Franco-American understanding: a shattered mirror.

NYT - March 2004
For visitors who define themselves as more lowbrow than high, there is another recent iconic restoration: Le Publicis Drugstore at the head of the Champs-Élysées.

After a two-year renovation by the California architect Michele Saee, the new Drugstore, once a Paris hot spot after opening as a minimall in 1958, is now wrapped in a patchwork of glass. Inside, a brasserie (glass walls offer a view of the avenue), a members-only restaurant, a bookshop, two cinemas, a wine shop, an international newsstand, a luxury grocery store, a Cuban cigar shop and, bien sûr, a pharmacy fill more than 32,000 square feet. Alain Ducasse has been hired as consultant to both restaurants and planned the menus.

The original Drugstore opened on the same spot in what was once the Astoria Hotel, the home of Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower when he was supreme commander of Western forces in Europe. With its all-night shop and café, it became a fixture of hip Paris in the early 1960's.

It was rebuilt badly after a fire destroyed the original structure in 1972. Two years later, a terrorist bombing killed two people in Le Drugstore St.-Germain, one of its satellites, and it declined into the sad and seedy.

Noisy, crowded, expensive and with heating that leaves something to be desired, the new Drugstore has the feel of an airport lounge. But according to Mayor Bertrand Delanoe, it is nothing less than ''a symbol of the city.'' And where else in Paris can one buy a Jean-Charles de Castelbajac teddy bear for $203 or a hamburger deluxe with foie gras for $20 after midnight?

Les meilleurs hamburger de Paris : Le Drugstore Publicis

Frommer's Review in NYT

In 1958 the founder of this company, Marcel Bleustein-Blanchet, following a visit to the United States, created a new concept for Paris that became a legend. Years later, a fire in one drugstore and a bombing in a Left Bank branch ended its glory. But Le Drugstore has made a spectacular comeback. Truman Capote once defined a city as a place where you can purchase a canary at 3 o'clock in the morning. In Paris, the Drugstore is a place where you can purchase a 200€ ($290) teddy bear or order a deluxe hamburger with foie gras in the wee hours. The Drugstore stands on the site of the old Astoria Hotel, the home of General Eisenhower when he was supreme commander of the Allied Forces in Europe. Today it houses a brasserie and a restaurant, a bookshop, a wine shop, two cinemas, a newsstand, and a high-end grocery store. The famed chef, Alain Ducasse, planned the menu offered in both dining places. Every food item from grilled scallops to ham with truffles Ducasse-style is served here. Naturally, the Brasserie has the cheaper prices; a more refined service and better cuisine is at Le Marcel.

Not for nothing

2009-01-22T14:11:00.002+01:00

Washington, DC, 20 Jan 2009 Presidential Inauguration (Google Earth)

Washington, DC, 25 April 2004, March for Women's Lives (Marilyn Rader, AP/Wide World Photos)

2009 looks better

2009-01-21T19:25:00.003+01:00

Quick update: got the laptop back - life goes on! Yay Obama! Januaray = 5 papers due. Three of which are due this coming Monday. More next week about Paris, photos of beautiful January, the Apple Mac laptop repair story, and really nothing else since I've been glued to reading and writing. Hope you all are enjoying life these days!!

What a bummer of 2009

2009-01-13T12:48:00.001+01:00

My laptop took a dive into oblivion by itself. It's being repaired. My friend Josh compared it to being grounded: no internet after 7:30pm, no music, no movies, no television, no phone calls, no shopping.

I have been restricted internet access for a week now. Life is very different without the great umbilical cord. You should try it sometime. There are some amazing hand-held books out there that are printed on soft paper and have magic words in interesting fonts. There's also a lot more sleep to be had. And, more experimentation in cooking.

I'll be back online sometime this week hopefully. I recommend that you go today and buy server space in the sky, and back up your computer every night. Or, at least every other night. Unless you want to lose papers that you worked a week on.

This is definitely not an indication of the year to come. I refuse that.

What a great 2008

2008-12-31T20:03:00.004+01:00

A good paper
Innovation party
Lunds visit
New Delhi, Agra, Mumbai, Bangalore
Anders & Cory visit
Wilfried & Sarah dinners
Tapes & Tapes
Papers
Edinburgh
Compassionate Care for Rape Victims becomes law
March for Sex Workers' Rights
Meghan & Mike visit
Papers
Cizor's haircuts
Laurent and the server
Sarnowskis visit
Madeleine the MPA baby
Accepted to the UN
Papers
Matt G visit
Bridget visit
Paul, Melissa, Jennie visit
Brittany & Normandy trip
Italy with Erin
Moving to Geneve
Meeting friends for life
Dasha bike trips
Deirdre dinners
Italy with Dasha
Bicycle accident
Goth night with Gerrit & Agathe & Caroline
Carte de sejour
Boulangerie sandwiches
March for Transsexual Rights
New fridge
Daylight savings time
Obama!
Papers
Global Public Policy Network Student Conference
London with Caroline, Anne, Patricia
Bahrain
Amanda & Leo visit
Capstone awesomeness
Thanksgiving expat style
Dasha visit
Drinks with Anand
Gotan Project
Christmas dinner expat style
Phone calls with Josh
Friends getting married
Friends having babies
Friends' birthdays
New friends, old friends

...All of this because of my wonderfully supportive family.

Wishing you a New Year that exceeds what you deserve and is better than you imagined!!!

A bientôt 2009!

The bad side of grad school

2008-12-28T00:02:00.002+01:00

I'm sitting here at midnight and friends have asked me out for drinks and I'm trapped here under a (so far) 6 hour analysis of a policy-turned-law 10 years ago in the US.

I'm intrigued with the makings of the law, the complex coalition that was grown out of a truly disturbing personal goal of one man. I've read at least 12 different sources that have analyzed the history and outcomes of this law and its process.

I can see with my eyes that I am bigger than the small icons on my laptop. I am a monster in comparison to them. I could eat each little icon as a peanut.

Yet, I am so insignificant in the world. I am a spec on a grain of sand in a millennium of time. I can research this piece of foreign policy and can understand the humanity behind it, the assumptions that made it. But I'm frozen when it comes to the section wherein I'm supposed to make recommendations to change it or improve it or demolish it or convert it. I'm a blip in voices who think they could make a difference. Who do I think I am to recommend anything? As if a year and half of school should give ME the wisdom to make any difference.

The more I learn, the more I know I know nothing.

What recommendations would make any difference? It's one small policy in a world of complexities. It's one 3 billion dollar line item in a budget that can give trillions away to the auto industry. It's one policing policy in a thousand passed over the last 8 years.

I am frozen when it comes to the next step. I could give a 100-page dissertation on how to make things better, to rectify what damage has been done... but I am still coming from my own interpretations, my own background, my own beliefs, my own ideas of what is "better" or my own vision of the future. What good does that do? I am no Gandhi. I am no MLK. I am no Mother Teresa. I am a tiny ant living at the top of a small hill in the marsh of a microscoped country in an itty-bitty continent on a cell of a planet. What strength has my little voice? What change can my Times New Roman font make into the pool of chaos? What's the point? Even if I were to publish the papers on which I write - into one of a million journals - who would care?

I'm finding it interesting to read and understand these policies that we so rarely hear about. That our (US) tax dollars pay for. But I don't even hope to work for the US government. So, who cares? What is the point of all this? Who cares when the more things change the more they stay the same?

Sigh.

..... we now resume with our regularly scheduled programming......

Some views of holiday around Paris these days

2008-12-21T18:58:00.000+01:00

Happy holidays!!!!!

(click to enlarge or visit the Flickr site for more)

Paul & Joe store front

Santa at the pawn shop

Picking a tree

Cassina store in white and silver foxes

Trees in my neighborhood

Lights on rue Lepic, Montmartre

Lights near Beaubourg (aka Centre Pompidou)

NOEL - I couldn't tell what this whole street art on the metro said, but something related to Noel 2008 Biento 2009 (ie, "à bientôt" = see you soon)

Missing summer: photo update

2008-12-14T20:24:00.002+01:00

Added more photos to the Flickr. Most are of Geneve since they're overdue and I'm missing the sun. And totally procrastinating a really lame paper I have to write.

The conference in Brussels was educational (a conference on diversity and both my colleague and I got snubbed various times), helpful (diversity is not about silos: gender, race, ability, sexual orientation), awesome (Lord So-and-So gave the keynote and mostly talked about how awesome Obama is for not making race an issue and how there's hope for the USA yet), and tiring (I took pages and pages of notes and worked it to get 4 business cards and 2 references for other contacts).

Anyway, new photos:
Geneva apartment
for the love of a bicycle
Geneve: Saint Pierre Cathedral
Geneve: Walk in Vieille Ville
Switzerland: bike from Geneve to hike Saleve
Geneve: bike accident
Paris: Marais (some random photos)
Geneve: around the city
Geneve: in the city, by the river (lots of street art)
Geneve: Artamis and K-bar (squat community with lots of street art)
Paris: Random, Misc
Street art walk in Belleville: Rue Deyonez
Meals, snacks, wine (a few Paris food pics)

others you might have missed recently:

Thanksgiving in Paris
4eme to 7eme walk
Sidrans in Paris
Bahrain
London to Bahrain
London in November
Palais Royal walk
GPPN conference and Paris
Paris Right Bank: summer walk
Paris Gay Pride
11eme summer walk

Holidays in Paris

2008-12-08T23:41:00.000+01:00

(click the images to enlarge)

Dasha arrives at Gare du Nord - yay!

Thanksgiving party with ex-pats, French friends, and other EU folks

I decided to go with what I've traditionally brought to Thanksgiving for the past five years (inspired by Bowen and enjoyed by my family), which ironically is getting only better now that I'm in Paris: cheese and bread!

photo © Dasha

Stopped by my local "cave" man. "Cave" means something like wine cellar in French. Gilles hooks me up with lovely vin rouge or blanche or champagne. He's great. Visit him at Terroir et Nature on the corner of rue de Douai and rue Fontaine.

photo © Dasha

so. much. good. bread.

photo © Dasha

Dasha models the heavy bread bag, the heavier cheese bag, the wine

The fromage guy wrote each name and type of cheese for us - so nice!!

The beginning of the feast - great: cooking, cheese, bread, friends, wine, and more and more food (batteries weak, no flash)

I was at the little kids' table, there were 27 of us

photo © Kenny

The big kids' table

photo © Kenny

Dancing ensued at the end (had to find a way to work off all that pie!) and then champagne came out

photo © Kenny

And then, there were crazy antics (yes, that's me being hoisted)

photo © Kenny

All in all, a fabulous way to spend Thanksgiving when not with family back home. Thankful for all these great friends.

Dasha

2008-11-29T00:31:00.003+01:00

She was my rock in Geneve. She was my athletic trainer, getting me on the bike and hike. She was my priest and listened to my confessions. She was my laughter at the UN internship. She was a twin musical taste. She wore me out and wore me under and woke me up. I hadn't had a best friend in a long time, and certainly not one so much younger than me. Her soul is old and mine is infantile.

Dasha comes to visit today, Saturday.

In Geneve, she came with me to the expat 4th of July in the park. We thought it silly and she took photos of me with the Obama cut-out and the hippie Uncle Sam. Saturday afternoon, she will again infiltrate the US ways and join me for Thanksgiving at a colleague's apartment where we will feast with other silly kids.

I have missed her and I'm so relieved that she's coming to visit.

The things I'm thankful for - the Paris edition

2008-11-27T19:25:00.000+01:00

Besides being extremely grateful for my family (with whom I'll Skype momentarily), my good friends here and back home, my health, the Obama-factor, the fact that our study trip to India was not this time this year, and so many other things for which I am blessed and grateful for, I am also thankful for..... [Paris-specific]

Boys in the new, funny jeans with pockets purposefully low

French ladies and their puppies, who say Au Revoir to me when they get off the metro.

Excellent friends from home who visit to play jazz (Ben Sidran and - pictured - his son, Leo Sidran played at Sunset/Sunside Jazz Club) and friends who make you feel like you were never apart (Amanda)

Asian people and cute Jewish boys at the fallafel restaurant in the Marais

Super cool cars in Paris

Weird art under the Samaratine building .. and new people in the world.

The view of the Eiffel at sunset in autumn

The art vendors on the Seine

The typical Parisian view: love, sun, light, building, bridges

Clouds and reflections and my eyes

Life's questions

My luck of the draw

Awesome street art before its removed

Abraham Lincoln, for sure

Light and a camera to capture it

Awesome art near my school

Paris does, indeed, rock

...and.... humor

Success, relaxation, and hundreds of camels

2008-11-18T09:05:00.007+01:00

I'm back to school this AM. The conference was a resounding success, although we still have the feedback evaluations to go through, which will tell the honest truth. Enjoyed some humbling sunrises over the course of those four early-morning days down on rue Jacob.

Last Monday I took the Eurostar over to London (or, under to London - as it goes under the Channel and all). Slept all days long at my friend’s LSE dorm. During the day I went out for a massage in some danky hair salon, lunch, brief shopping, and email-checks at the local cafe. Stayed up late enough to close the pubs down (a very strict 2am) and gained like 6 pounds drinking beer and eating fish & chips.

Thursday I left for Bahrain on British Airways, which offered free beverages including Blood Marys and wine. Flew over burning oil fields and felt solemn over Iraq. I hear that Saudi Air flies around Israel, as the final snub to their not acknowledging the country's existence. Bahrain was a fine-dust desert with tall glass buildings instead of cacti, the sounds of call to prayer and banging construction, an ex-pat party, being one woman in the souk of a hundred Indian and Pakistani men, driving through the oil fields, trying to find the Tree of Life, taking some sun on the roof with the pool, wonderful Middle Eastern food, and fascinating trips through the malls.

Last photos of the evening

2008-11-05T13:55:00.008+01:00

I cried all the way home on the metro at 6h45. When I got off at my stop, the black guy sitting across from me for about 5 stops held his thumbs up and looked at me contentedly. I cried even more.

I can't believe it.

(Not a huge fan of his speech, but maybe they were aiming for modesty and American-centric. I thought McCain's was condescending at times and down-right rude at others, but was rather modest, as well. Did not like Michelle's dress at all, but she is still totally a rockin' First Lady.)

Fox News calls it Obama - that's when we REALLY knew

i'm crying too much to post

2008-11-05T05:30:00.001+01:00

i'm filming it all

we're all joyous and somber and excited and stunned

i'm just in tears and can't handle it

i miss you josh

"a beautiful day" mp3 from U2 needed

2008-11-05T04:40:00.001+01:00

starman was right

2008-11-05T04:14:00.001+01:00

by 6am we'll know

and it'll be Obama and who knows on Prop 8... we're still watching..

Election in a nutshell via professional pollster friend

2008-11-05T03:59:00.002+01:00

"after the last two elections the nets have gotten much more conservative in their calling of states. so if they call something they have a high degree (est at 99.5% confidence) of faith that it's true. an early call in some place like PA means they most likely have a very wide margin of victory in the exit polls even if they aren't telling us what that number is. they also tend to use actual results from polling places they've collected to confirm the exit polling, but again those actual real results are ones that aren't publicly available yet."

but so it's all fake - exit polls people lie - there are no ballots .. how do you trust that?

"By sampling enough people you reduce to a small percent the chance of enough bad info (ie liars) entering the survey to change the results"

"also, a key part of what they do is look in very fine detail at where geographically the exit polls are showing the leads and comparing that turnout to past turnout and results. my colleague at AV who knows obama won florida says it's based on obama extremely out performing kerry and gore in key areas. in PA the call was easy because the margin was wide and they could see how he was winning demographic groups, like college educated whites, who dems have never won there in 40 years."

so are you confident it's obama?
when does he win a Bush state?

"Confident it's Obama. I think Indiana of north Carolina will be official in the next hour"

......

My sister was #1233 in MN
Her boy pal was #98
She had no lines and things went smoothly.

Looking at Franken
And Prop 8 here

pre-ejaculat -- election happiness

2008-11-05T03:43:00.002+01:00

If Florida falls to Obama it's in

Pennsylvania that's crazy!

2008-11-05T02:49:00.007+01:00

They, supposedly vote with their guns and religion. I worked with a woman from PA who thought this day would never come.

Our party has gotten little quiet but enjoying the CNN entertainment. We're wondering if Jon Stewart is live online because we don't have full cable here. America Votes is calling Obama win. We're still watching the colors on CNN turn blue, red.

Battleground

2008-11-05T02:01:00.003+01:00

CNN is going in all color on the States map. People here - all Americans and a couple of French folks - don't know what they're looking at and are bummed when something goes red, except for the Canadian guy who is confused because liberals in Canada are red-colored. We still feel good. The good cheese came out. The wine is still flowing. We're all watching

Star Trek on CNN

2008-11-05T01:15:00.001+01:00

Dude, they're "beaming" people in for commentary on CNN. This woman commentator is like glowing. This virtual stuff is hilarious. Holograms... ha!

We're all laughing. Someone made caipirinhas. There's pasta in progress possibly. Wine still flowing. Some of the French folks left. The Americans remain. It's still early. Kentucky and Indiana closed so early - I hope other polls aren't closing early.

Sheesh.

election party arrival

2008-11-05T00:26:00.000+01:00

Indiana and Kentucky closing polls at this hour c/o CNN...

Mingling with some French folks, some Americans, some I don't know where from. We've got CNN on and watching the strange interviews and probing investigations that still continue on TV.

On the way to the party, getting off the metro, a guy said loudly and over-spelled (I was wearing my headphones) "J'aime bien ton t-shirt." I replied, "Moi aussi. Merci!"

It's a strange thing to wear t-shirts for your candidates in Paris. People rather think shirts for Gore, Kerry, Obama are more fashionable than their own country's candidates. I'm flattered by this idea, especially as I'm sometimes one of the "anti-American elitists" that Palin talks about lately.

Anyway.

Wil and me.

A Sacramento expat (making power Obama heart.. or um... signs)

Sacramento again

A Sciences Po French supporter

I <3 Obama

pre-election night fiesta

2008-11-04T21:51:00.003+01:00

Not getting out the vote this year, but definitely representing at school, on the metro, on the street on my way home (where a gentleman leaning out of one of the sexy-lady-bars asked me if he was going to win and I said, "Bien sûr! Il n'y a pas otre possibilite!"), and then later tonight when I get to a colleague's for the long night of result watching.

I hope we get to celebrate.

PS. Thanks, starman, hope you're having fun wherever you are!

Countown!

2008-11-03T18:22:00.000+01:00

I was speaking to my cave guy tonight, when buying wine for the US election party tomorrow, and he's for Obama. Peeking over someone's shoulder who was reading the newspaper on the metro, and the US map was full of color: reds, blues, swings. Maybe electrons really do fly fast, but I can FEEL the energy from the US over here. So excited!!

But first, I have to get through final planning details of the conference, linen laundry, full day of class tomorrow (10am - 18h), run home, un-fold the futon couch-bed, pull out the air mattress, put away the drying clean clothes, tidy up last details, and then go to the Election Party. Stay up as late as I can (will we know by 6am Paris time?). Sleep during the day. Go to school. Help with registration and set-up. And then, hopefully be a joyous bundle of contentment at the fact that we'll have our first African-American President. Ooooo so excited!!!

I'll have a big, long post on conference planning in Paris because I tell you, it is an entirely different beast. Panelists we invited 6 months ago and started calling 3 months ago are still undecided. There isn't such thing as a conference center at Sciences Po. Accommodation with students and staff is hell because we all live in flats the size of bread-boxes or in a dormitory at Cite Universitaire. Panelists cancelling at last minute. Visiting students making irrational demands from abroad. It's been an interesting challenge. Kind of like running a campaign, including firing staff people, setting deadlines along the way, keeping it cool on the outside while I freak out on the inside, giving interviews to other students not engaged in the planning, schmoozing to get panelists, encouraging team members, etc. So, while I wasn't in the States to do my usual Get Out the Vote efforts, I've run my own campaign down here. Let's hope it goes as smoothly as Obama's!!

Cheers to all!

Humor: just when I needed it

2008-10-25T20:42:00.000+02:00

Last night, I came home from being out with friends, was sitting at my lovely antique table (my propriétaire has great taste), checking email when from behind the futon couch came a little scurrying black shadow - running into my open closet. "Oh no you didn't.. snap!" A lil meese? Noooo.. Ugh.

I sat quietly for a few seconds and out of the other side of the closet the little mousey ran to the apartment door, around the wall, and into the bathroom. Of course, my bathroom is totally boring so I climbed up onto a counter top to wait for its exit (a bit of the "Eek! Eek!" fear ala get as high off the ground as possible, plus a good place for observation - ok, more of the former than latter). And, it did exit, running directly into the crevice under/near the freezer. There's plenty of space back there to hide - if you don't get too close to the oven. I waited. No movement. For like half-hour. So, I went to the apartment door, opened it a bit, put a potato chip at the doorway, and climbed into bed.

Woke up this morning to my neighbor's voice, "Loreeen? Loreeen?"
"Huh? Yeah?" I called from my bed.
"Are you okay? Your door is open."
"I know. There's a mouse. I wanted it to leave."
"Okay," he left the door open and I heard him whisper under his breath, "Jesus."

Not sure if it was a "Jesus, now the thing's going to move to my apartment!" or a "Jesus, she's crazy."

Today, I had a list: mouse trap, air mattress. I went off to buy the inflatable mattress over at BHV, a 7-story hell of department store. Remember my story about lines before? And the non-order of walking on the sidewalk? Well, put them all together and you get Bangalore traffic hell, weaving around and between, and after a while just wanting to march through everyone and everything. But, I started my venture calmly with my mp3-player and feeling relaxed.

Sous-sol (basement) level, I asked a young woman where I could find things for "sourise" but of course, the "ou/o" of anything is hard for non-French speakers to pronounce. There's amour, sourise, mort, coeur, soeur, corps. They all sound differently and require different lip pursing and are sometimes ooo, uh, ohr, and darn if I can't get them right EVER. So, she had no idea what I was saying. I made hand gestures of something little and said "chat" and she got it. Then she asked if I wanted blah blah blah and I had no idea what she was saying. (When speaking a language to a foreigner, please please please remember not that you have to YELL your language, but slow it down and really pronunciate like we're morons. It helps.) So, I just made the gesture with finger across my neck of "dead." She pointed me to the jardin section of the store.

Weaved between the hot lights and thousands of shoppers and found the fertilizer section and then the shelves of death. God, I didn't want to do this. Poison, cages, the old school wooden and wire traps that could break a finger. I was looking for this thing, because I thought it was more of a Hungry Hungry Hippo idea, where the mouse would go for the bait and then be trapped in a cute little box.

Instead, I picked up the Powercat Mausefalle, like the former link. I opened it and it snapped shut and I screamed. The older guy next to me, very studious and straight-faced about browsing his death choices, smirked a bit. I shuddered and tossed two of them into my basket.

Yes, yes, yes, I'm all for animal rights and am a vegetarian and, as you recall from my entry about my former Geneva housecat, Lion, I'm really not okay with dead animal parts or wholes. My propriétaire replied to my emails with "Poor mouse. I wonder where she comes from. If there's no food for her, she should leave." First of all, identifying it with a gender makes it all the harder for me, but sourise is a female word so it gets a "la sourise" so it's not really that she's a cute little girl small rat or big mouse, but I think he was trying to get sympathy from me. But I have to house 3 people during the upcoming conference. And, I'm really not interested in going about my business in the apartment to all of a sudden find a mouse staring at me from the garbage cupboard. And all the normal apartment creaks and groans have now become a gigantic King Kong sized mouse that is trying to attack me. Yes, active imagination, but also .... I'm sure it's accurate.

I'm sorry but she's got to go. And I have no idea how I'll deposit her if she is found sleeping peacefully in a heaven of fromage, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. In all actuality, I am firmly believing that she found the open apartment door last night, turned to my sleeping body, and was like, "Ciao!" And, no she is not an extra from Ratatouille either.

With mouse traps in the basket I turned to go off and find an inflatable mattress for one of said 3 guests who will be staying with me. Up the crowded escalators to the 3rd floor. The guy I asked for a "matelas d'aire" didn't understand me at all. I made blowing motions and he said "matelas gonfliable" or something. He didn't know where they were so he pointed me to the bedding department. The woman there said sous-sol and I hollered that off to the guy as I headed off. He smiled and thanked me.

I went off down the escalators to the sous-sol -- again. Found two employees standing around. I do love the politeness of Paris. You don't just walk up to the store employees and ask, "Where are the air mattresses, please?" You walk up, say "Bonjour," they say "Bonjour," and then you move on to your question. So, I did the hellos and asked. He shook his head. Not here any longer, try the 6th floor. Very nice about it. I turned to head to the escalators but the prospect of facing the unorganized herd made me about want to throw-up. I turned back to him and asked where the elevators were. He answered something blah blah laugh laugh question. His colleague smiled and walked away in embarrassment. "Desole? Comment?" I asked back. "Don't tell me you don't have a place to sleep tonight. Because you should just tell me and I'll help you." He laughed, I laughed (that was all in French but I understood), and I laughed all the way to the elevators.

The elevator held 10 people and it beep beep beeped. One guy got off and it kept beeping. I got off. Ugh. Looked for another elevator location - nada. Escalators all the way to the 6th floor. Got the air mattress for 25% off, checked out with the nice girl behind the counter. Headed back to the elevators. I was first in line, but the elevator next to mine opened and those waiting behind me piled on -- of course. Leaving not very much room. While they tried to point to room and invite me in, I shook my head. Whatever. Got the next one down.

I needed that mid-shopping laugh so badly. Not only did it say, you're cute, but also let's joke around.

Well, mice traps out. (Picture me propping them open and delicately placing them on the floor and then jumping back a mile as if they are grenades.) Air mattress in the closet. We'll see what happens in the end.

Reminder

2008-10-23T23:31:00.002+02:00

Paris is what she is.
I have to stop living as if I'm living my life in Paris. Instead, I need to live in her.

I've been fighting to retain some of myself, to be who I thought I was.

to keep the ideals of what I know, and even I am less than American. But I should not continue on this way, living as if I am who I was, or that I am who I am. I have to let go of my past and be . here . now .

I'm watching The Dreamers and I see myself in the boy American. Changing shyly in the corner, hiding my body, embarrassed of being nude, embarrassed of exposing myself. This is not literal, but the idea. Americans are born of a war, bred on a Puritanical history, we are not free as we'd like to think we are. This is not political. This is life.

I should not be ashamed. I should not be so self-aware. I should not be so considerate. I should be .... free. And freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.

Paris is not outside me. Paris is not away or a place in which I inhabit. She is contagious. She is infiltrating. She is embracing. Despite political leaders. She is shy on the bus, staring in the lines, judgmental in your appearance. She is. But yet she allows for eccentricity and encourages it. She wants you to be who you are and judges only when you, yourself, are judging you. She can see these things. She reads the uncomfortability on your face. She scorns you for this. She wants... more than anything... for you to be you. For you to be crazy or nuts or scandalous or boring. Be normal or insane. Be quiet or shouting.

I need a greve.

I need to feel Paris shut down and let us all be naked on the streets together. Frustrated. Resisting bureaucracy. But for now she is calm and she is begging me to live.

Finally French, with a Few Flaws

2008-10-17T22:38:00.001+02:00

Oh, my horoscope is right:
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): I usually don't have to tell you Bulls how important it is to finish what you've started. You are, after all, among the top three signs of the zodiac when it comes to following through. But just in case you've momentarily fallen under the sway of a delusion that would encourage you to escape before the resolution is fully in place, I'm here to remind you: It's time to make the art of completion your graceful obsession.

I had to fire a colleague from conference planning and now am on my own as the leader of the event, but have learned so many good lessons from this: delegate, communicate, and then, move on if all else has failed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

So, the firing was Wednesday night. Thursday, I was tired and grumpy when I got up, and it trickled down all day until an outburst that wasn't so nice. Short on rest and finally fed up, I reached a point of no longer being patient with all things French (or Parisian).

The carte de sejour. It's a brutal process to re-apply for the residency permit, but it's made a bit easier at school because there's one poor, sweet woman who attends to all the students (between select hours) for our applications. I remember seeing her last year after waiting for 4 hours one day, and then on another day after a 2-hour wait. The first time I didn't even make it in to see her. After 4 hours waiting, she came out of her office and apologized, but it was the end of the day and she wouldn't be seeing any more students. The second time I made sure I had all the necessary paperwork to ensure I wouldn't have to return - and I didn't! Got the temporary letter of permission, followed it with the doctor visit, and then got the official card to say I could stay in this country.

So, now I'm renewing, which should be easy. But, no bureaucratic thing in France is. I went for my first visit two weeks ago. With about 12 people in line, she wasn't accepting any more applicants at the 3pm hour. Left defeated and irritate. It's about a fifteen-minute walk from class - not much, but it becomes a lot when you're squeezing it in between class, lunch, class.

Returned last week and got in line behind ten people. Waited patiently, got some good work done, and finally got my chance. Had everything needed but a 3-month set of bank statements - I imagine the French government wants to assure spending within its borders or enough money to weather the financial crisis.

While I waited there were like 10 legitimate people for their first visit and repeated line-cutters who only had a few papers to turn in after being turned away with instructions for return.

She's a sweet paper lady, the carte de sejour woman. Does she have a name plate? Nope. Do we know her name on her door? No. She's like anon carte de sejour lady. Smiling even while I could barely write my name for lack of food, which produced hand shaking. She is patient and even-spirited. I'm sure she drinks a whole bottle of Pinot Noir each night and must smoke a pack a day just to get through, although I'm not sure when she'd find time for a break.

Yup, everything in order but the bank statements - a new turn for this year.

So, I came back about a week later. Asked the waiting students how the day was going and realized we had a first-timer, and two who just needed to drop their additions off - bank statements or other papers. Gradually, over the hour I was there, more and more people came and thought they had the right to just go to the office and basically jump the line. I tried my horrible French to ask what they were there for and to indicate that, yes, we were all here for a carte de sejour, which humbled most into getting in line. After about a half-hour with the first-timer in the office, trying to navigate in broken French and English between carte de sejour lady and the applicant, people started to lose their patience. The Aussie gal was like, I'm gonna get sacked if I don't make it back to work. I was corralling people into line. The Canandian boy was too timid to coral and admitted it. The last woman was Chinese, who unfortunately supported my style of dictating to the others.

After explaining to two students, I told the Aussie and the Canadian waiting that it was their turn to keep watch and explain. Aussie had perfect French and convinced a Russsian girl to leave due to time constraints. The Canandian got nowhere and never spoke.

I let the Aussie jump me to get her paperwork in and get off to her job. Then, a woman showed up and I informed her we were all in line for the same thing. She acknowledged and yet still waited at the open door. After the first-timer left, the Aussie went in and was rounding up her paperwork, and then - after me waiting there an hour and half - the French woman took a step inside the office. I know where it came from, from the bottom of my belly, from desperation, from tiredness, from justice, from impatience, from what is right. I jumped up and cut her off and had a heated explain in Franglo (French-English combo) that, dude, she might just have to "posé une question" but we all to just pose a question so get in line, woman. It was quite a complex exchange of my fumbling words and her defensiveness.

But after me not jumping the line, after being patient, after letting Aussie-freak-out-get-sacked, after all of it, I wasn't patient anymore. There is a process in the world - maybe not in France, but in the world there is respect for others and a degree of understanding that you have to wait your turn. And, maybe I was trying to transpose an American value, but dammit, I was fed up with the weird system I was subjected to. So, I Franglo'd my way through and she stormed out - after commenting that I didn't need to be so stressed, that all she had was a question, that it's not a big deal.

I entered to the empty seat opposite carte de sejour lady and she smiled, "Well (in French), I see you've been very patient. Thank you. Let's get this going." I informed her, with smiles and relaxed, that it was no big deal and that I'd be quick and all I had were my bank statements. She basically ignored the rest of my dossier (which she already approved, but generally wanted to look over in 2nd detail review), looked at the dates of my statements, approved, and signed a quick form.

It wasn't that I felt power at that moment, but that I felt justice. I'm still not used to this system where anything goes. Where the line at the post office all of a sudden becomes 2 strange lines because someone inches up alongside instead of behind and then thinks they can challenge you to the open window (when only 2 of 4 are open -- is this not just like Buenos Aires in 1988?). The lines at any window - a train station, a boulangerie - there's no form to them. They are layered and who cares who was there first - it's survival of the fittest - if you can edge up, you get served. So, damn me if I'm going to fight for that window then.

It was quite unusual for me. Even before entering carte de sejour hell, I'd spent 45 minutes in line at the post office to mail my election ballot. I'm patient. I'm even. I'm forgiving and I'm flexible. But only to a point.

I have started to understand the pattern of walking and transportation. It's like India, it seems like mass chaos, but people have their own patterns and rules for merging, signaling, crossing. In Paris, in Europe, the scooters take the free space of the roads or sidewalks, the cars merge quickly, the buses have a greater right if you don't beat them first, everyone has great brakes. Passing on the sidewalk there's no walk on the right, pass on the left. There is no order. It's free for all and each for their own - don't run over the bicyclist, don't rear-end the scooter, don't get rear-ended (and they are MUCH better drivers than in the USA). But it's a pattern I don't get yet. I still think it's more efficient to find a general agreement to path and passing. A conformist understanding. But they seem to make this chaos work. Not for me, not yet. So, when someone cuts the line, I take issue. Or, I took issue.

It felt good to defend myself, but I also felt tremendously like an a-hole.

I'm still not sure how to balance this.

Following this encounter, I was on my home, waiting for the bus. Three young girls, maybe ten or eleven years old, were goofing off waiting for the bus, too. One of them pushed another and she dropped her empty pop can on the sidewalk. They were giggling and pushing each other - you pick it up, no you. A mom walked by with her two kids and pointed the empty can to the girls and scolded them to pick it up. They laughed as she walked off and finger-pointed at each other again - you pick it up, no you. After I noticed that they were almost content to let it sit, I decided to say something.

Frankly, I'd been practicing this in my head since I saw a few juvenile boys launch their burger wrappers into the street. So, I turned to two of them, and said, "Mademoiselle, ça c'est pour la poubelle, c'est ne pas pour la rue." I'm sure this is wholly incorrect, but they both lurched for the can and picked it up and then giggle-fought over who had to deposit it. The bus came so I missed the end of it all. They got on and I read my homework the way home while listening to their giggles on the bus.

This felt less like power or old-lady-correcting, and more like, damn it, I like Paris and she gets trashed too often. Granted, there are paid sidewalk washers and street cleaners and poubelle picker-uppers, but people shouldn't just get lazy about it all. They'll still need the sidewalk washers and poubelle-picker-uppers since dogs still can't seem to pick up their own poops, and pigeons aren't trained yet, and there's still garbage in the poubelle. But at least we could stop adding to the crap.

I still felt like an a-hole. Who am I to think I can take a stand like this? I'm just a visitor. This isn't my country, nor my town. But I do like to abide by the "home is where I lay my head." So, I guess I do feel like I belong and I'd like to respect it.

My French has definitely improved though. So has my courage.

Autumn and things around Paris

2008-10-15T20:54:00.009+02:00

School, class, conference - not necessarily in that order of importance or stress. So, for now, some pretty pictures of Paris.

You can always find more on flickr.com (including my snaps from the manifestation for Transsexual Rights, a trip to the country with my class, a party at the Sciences Po MPA)

alteration to a Galleries Lafayette poster in the metro

autumn in the Marais

autumn on the Seine

bowling off Rue Mouffetard

knee-high by July, ready for harvest - outside Paris

My friend as a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence in the march for Transsexual rights

The new "move to France" ad

2008-10-10T17:49:00.004+02:00

One doctor visit, 15 minutes late, 30 minutes visit, prescription: 25E

Friendly pharmacist who assumed you were French because of your flawless accent, prescription filled, including antibiotics: 10.27E

Health care in France: priceless

Well, zut alors!

2008-10-09T18:13:00.002+02:00

I received a nice comment and email from The Paris Blog inviting me to join as a contributor. I wondered what was involved in becoming a contributor - while I'd love to wile away my hours making intriguing comments on Paris living or reviewing the great restaurants and clubs around town, I do have a thing called a Masters program on my agenda. But the lovely Laurie over at TPB relieved me of any obligations. "As a contrib, you don't have to actually do anything. I will excerpt from your blog now and then, always with a link back to your original." Um, can it get more easy than that?

I'm flattered and humbled and want to welcome any new readers or browsers.

Sheesh.. I was trying to be well-behaved before, knowing that even my cute, old grandma reads this sometimes in the company of my awesome aunts. But now... well, hm.. A bit of pressure.

Just so you all know, I'm horrible at engaging in the comments section, but do deeply appreciate any communication. My thoughts wander and I have my own view on Paris. A lot of it's terribly boring graduate school crap, but it might be interesting to a future grad student considering my program - or school in France. I'm not very funny. I'm very political, but I have family members reading the blog from many political parties in the USA so I try not to scream my views. (Although the Sarah Palin Comedy Train is hard not to jump on.) Yeah. So. That's it. Now, I'm going to forget entirely that there are more people reading, because, really I'm shy as all get out.

But, please, make yourself at home here. Enjoy. And, thanks for stopping by.

Oh, and if you're able to in your country --- VOTE!!!!

To be French

2008-10-09T00:28:00.002+02:00

Thank god I'm not 19 anymore. Really. But I did have a nice evening hanging out with a new colleague at school (who is 30) and 3 French teenagers. Colleague and I went for a drink following a long day at school and then were invited to beers by the next table over.

I'm always astounded when I hear the America-Love from people. And I've heard it from my Chinese colleagues via a link regarding the fascination with America during the Olympics. And tonight I heard it again from three 19-year-old French boys. They cited more movies and TV shows than I've seen in the States. They spoke "American English" as opposed to British. It's strange to look inside from the outside.

Of course, I know it's easier to criticize the US while I carry her passport. And I can always return. But how strange, in the middle of a financial meltdown and in the middle of the fresh roll of a new wave of The Depression. But people still hold a high regard for the US, an esteemed worship, a lust, a hope for the country and to find themselves someday making their yellow brick road there.

It hasn't changed my view on the country. I'm still skeptical - despite the Hope instilled by Obama (and these boys know Obama and McCain and know that Change is associated with the former and toasted to it). I'm still exhausted with the work ethic. Still dismayed by the urban and rural planning of the country. Still disencouraged by the policies. Still hoping to get a job in Europe or the rest of the world so I won't have to return next year. But then I run into these people who want to clink every round of beers to the US and to the hope it instills.

It's true, too. In Europe, or at least in France, still, to this day, you have to declare your intended track of study before you graduate high school. You have to determine your fate beforehand and you have to stick to it. There's no such thing as a 33-year-old going back to school. It's unheard of and weird. Hence, the lack of student discounts for me - they end at 26 years old. No one can understand why someone would be able to or want to change their life path.

To these boys, the US represents Hollywood, New York City, chance, glory, opportunity, uniqueness, freedom. To me it represents the opposite for I have felt the crush of these things. But we always think the grass is greener over there, don't we?

And now that I'm in Paris again, I remember how much I love my boulangerie, my cave man with the wonderfully cheap wine, the idea of sitting out on a sidewalk drinking beer for hours in the evening, the risk of greve (strike) any moment, the challenge of being a country, a city, and a piece of the EU. Who is the US a member of? Iraq??? To whom do we have to submit our concerns?

It's food for thought on a late night before a class.....

What kind of a policy-maker are they making here? I'm not a Socialist or a Republican or a Liberal or a Fancy Pants. But good god, what has this education in France given me??

On the Vice Presidential Debate from over here

2008-10-03T23:59:00.000+02:00

Missed it? Catch the full 1 hour 33 minutes of comedy here.

Well, it's Friday night and what better have I to do? Actually, a ton, but I'm sick as a dog so why not catch up on my American politics? I'm slightly disgusted with the US media saying Palin didn't too poorly. Obviously, the bar was lowered to the gutter so anything that didn't involve her storming out, saying "Vote for Bush and Palin" or "Biden's a baby killer" or breaking down into tears basically constitutes doing well. No, I won't even say, well she did alright. While I don't expect my representatives to be without human failures (Errare Humanum Est), I do expect them to have eloquent arguments (even if it's bull), well-thought out ideas, and a drive to change what Bush had messed up for the past 8 years. Being able to remain composed for an hour half does not qualify as doing well. As my old boss commented, she is "shocked and appalled that 'folksy' makes someone a viable vice-presidential candidate."

So, if it hasn't been said, most of what I noted had to do with analyzing Palin. Although, I was trying to be critical of Biden. I'm not as familiar with him, his policies, his beliefs, his background, etc I did wonder if he wasn't going to suffer a stroke at some point, the way those veins stuck out above his eyebrows. He almost looked like a Vulcan. I'm also tired of the old, white guy syndrome. And he doesn't need to remind me he's had a lifetime in politics - I'm tired of the old school. But he does wear his upbringing on his sleeve - or play it up for the people - and that I fell for.

So, here are my brief notes on the interaction:

stolen from Cajun Boy

What does "more and more revelation made aware now.." mean, Palin? And who says "Yah, I wooduv" or "bringin'" or "A-mare-ica" like a teenager chewing gum? Seems like she's running a Bush, Jr Jr here.

And what is with all the winking? Seriously, SNL was handed gold on a platter while they were fanned by Donatella Versace's slave men.

Really, who is so proud of being the governor of the only arctic state? Isn't that where there's a huge alcohol problem, man-eating bears, and a whole yard of ice? Get over it. It's really not so amazing. Especially considering the fact that the whole damn country is barely populated (683,478). I mean, HAWAII has more people living there than Alaska.

Did anyone feel like Palin was your mom giving you the smack down, shame-on-you speech after you'd overspent your allowance on a cheap Barbie dollhouse? Really, do I need a VP who wants to ground me or wag her finger at me?

"People are SO hungry for that domestic source of energy to be tapped into"? Are we? Are we soooo hungry for oil and not for a paid job? Are we so eager to tear open wildlife and suck its life out?

"I'd tell America straight up.." Is that what she'll say to foreign dignitaries? "Let me tell you straight up about our foreign policy." Ugh.

"We can not afford to lose.." in the war in Iraq. Is that what it's about, Palin? Losing is losing face? How about we can't afford to leave Iraq in the disastrous state we put it in? "Shift responsibility" - nice, Biden. She did kick Biden in the privates by throwing his words back at him in regards to criticizing Obama before Biden was chose as VP.

Was Palin stumbling on the word "nuclear?"

engagement w/ enemies: "..these dictators who hate America... and hate what we stand for.. our respect for women's rights" WHAT?! What in god's name does she consider "women's rights" - she's been a champion of limiting women's rights since day one! Disillusioned much?

Did anyone think her insert of "building an Embassy in Jerusalem" sounded a bit like a sales pitch: This duplex is just the house for your family, with the two-car garage, great view of the lake - and an Embassy in Jerusalem - you just can't go wrong!

"We both love Israel" - the next great campaign tee-shirt. It's almost like, "We both love ice cream!"

I'm sorry, but she's so condescending. It's so inappropriate. Biden should have taken her stupid, sick, sweet-cheeked Maverick ass out the door and kicked her off her high heels. But he remained diplomatic and exuded class by not stooping to her level.

Surged principles that have worked in Iraq?

I wish Biden would have pointed out that he's actually attained the experience on the issues of war, genocide, peace, and the economy and that Palin hasn't had that same education and can't do the job.

Ooooh, "McCain knows what Evil is." Like, Evil Knievel?

"Whaddya expect?" cheerleader shoulder shrug with a head tilt, "We're a team of Mavericks...." Gimme an M! Gimme an A! Good gracious.

Has anyone seen Wasilla Main Street? Who wants that in the capital? Union Street or Katie's restaurant? Who wants that in the capital? Why did Biden drop Home Depot into the conversation? Is he getting paid?

"Government get out of my way" I wish she'd thought of that when considering bills regarding women's rights. Hmmm... Now, who's the 2-faced politician?

"Say it ain't so, Joe... now doggoneit..." next campaign tee-shirt. Followed by "Your wife being a teacher for 30 years and god bless her - her reward is in heaven." I think she started to lose it here.

Nice try on her part to turn the "Bush Administration = McCain" into "looking to the past" instead of talking about the future. Ain't gonna work, woman. The last 8 years is the future and it's gotta change.

"ramped up" "shout out" - oh.my.god. Our next VP? Please nooooo. I love what "youngin'" said in the comments here: "- I don't think 'shout outs' are appropriate during national debates"

Palin wants flexibility in the role of VP...hmmm... like what? What does she want the power for? Um, that's scary. Nice knock on Cheney, Biden. Thanks!

I love my mother, really, I do. And, I love most of the moms I know. But I'm sorry, the only ONLY mother I wanted to run for President or VP was Hillary Clinton. Being a mother does not qualify you for the leadership of this country. Political education, experience, diplomacy, foreign expertise.. and if you're a parent, great. But don't run on your parenthood - it's really not so hard to get or have kids. And, we've seen that prime example through her daughter!

Biden spoke about political issues (albeit with a lot of spin and some lying), but during his one lengthily moment on family, he got all choked up over his kids. Wow. Nice play.

Maverick. Really, it used to be an interesting, descriptive word. It's now like an off-key chord on a bagpipe. Ugh. Ew. And, stop. Please.

Just like the next person, I'm not interested in having an elitist President, but if a person can't find another, more eloquent way for describing "quasi-caved in" then they shouldn't be leading my country. Enough of the "I'm the decider" for me, thanks.

"[Since then,] Never questioned their motive, questioned their judgment." - Biden. Nice.

"You walk the walk, you don't just talk the talk. At the end of the day, as long as we're all workin' together for the greater good, it's gonna be okay." - Palin. Not nice.

And another good critique from "yougin'": "-I learned in grade school to enunciate my words ending in -ING . If the word ends in ING then you best pronounce the G!!! They must not teach that in Alaska."

Why is Palin's closing a threat of fear? Freedom is at stake - freak out! Vote McCain

Be able to pay the mortgage, send kid to college, best equipped soldiers, best health care. Dignity and respect. Accomplish anything - we believed it and we did. Reestablish that certitude. "Champ, when you get knocked down, get up" And the last god bless the troops - selfishly - ooooo, sizzler! Vote Obama/Biden

Last, and again stolen from Cajun Boy's website:

Grad school complexities

2008-10-02T14:28:00.001+02:00

It's a lovely season. Cooling off, leaves are changing, all the Parisians have returned (although I wasn't here when they left so I don't notice the difference), new students are infiltrating the balance, and new viruses are spread all over the metro and buses. I have a cold, which could be a sinus infection. I hate being sick, although it does give pause to living, which is a nicely forced slow down.

School started last week with orientation on Thursday and Friday, although I'd already been there a few times before to present the conference to the new first-year students - who look way better than our class does, very encouraging. This week we slowly started some courses and debated the procedure and results of electing our concentrations and capstones. Concentrations include things like risk management, economic and territorial development, human security, multilevel economic governance, welfare. They include an overview course each semester (which can be taken as an elective) and a hands-on methods course (not allowed to be taken as elective).

Frankly, I wanted to take them all but that's impossible. I got swept up by professor presentations and changed my mind at least ten times. Finally, I settled on the top three choices that would be submitted to admin: multilevel, risk, human security. There was a draw and almost everyone but three of us got their first or second selections. There's way more to it, but I didn't truly - in the end - want human security as a concentration. I have a background in welfare and a type of human security (which basically just places the person as the central focus as opposed to the state or war). To make myself well-rounded I need an economic or management concentration. So there was a bit of a heated discussion with the director, and man, was I proud of myself for holding my ground but not pushing too hard. It's a delicate balance to insist without demanding, confront without breaking down, justify without whining.

I wanted to pull the money card - after all, I am paying a &%$# ton of money to go to school here - but that seemed like last resort, and an unspoken obviousness. I did play the "I'm doing a lot for this program" card, which felt a bit cheap, and the "It's not like I'm going to tell other people and incite a riot for everyone to change their concentrations," which also felt slimy. The procedure was transparent, agreed upon, and rather equal among all parties. In the end, the resolution was to allow the 3 of us who got our third choice to switch, but no one else. In the end, not enough people chose the welfare concentration so it was cancelled - second year in a row. Last year they converted it into a lecture series, which I attended diligently. The human security was saved and the 3 of us are content with our decisions. I got my second choice: Risk Management.

Next up, the capstones, which are basically the replacement for doing a thesis. It's more professionally-focused, where we work in a group with a leader who brings a case study for us to resolve. Again, all of them are interesting on some level, and they all involve a degree of travel, which is a big draw. I didn't want to do the Eastern Europe-Mekong trade comparison because it would involve too much travel for me to handle with the other school work. It was, of course, the most popular. Instead I went with a diversity-focused capstone that would involve analyzing a multi-national corporation's adherence to a new diversity law in Europe and offering direction on how to improve it - if needed. The firm is based in Europe, Asia, and Latin America so there is potential travel there, and interesting comparisons between developing and developed countries. My second choice was a Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) project working with fair labor practices and firms who signed an agreement with the ILO to improve their practices. My third choice is led by the professors of my concentration and deals with analysis of nuclear energy facilities and regulation through these risks.

Well, we'll hear today hopefully what we get for Capstones. It's a gamble and a game and slightly a prisoner's dilemma. Do you put your real first choice or the first choice everyone is aiming for to ensure you get your second choice, which is your real first choice? Yesterday, we had an open discussion with the admin, because only 6 of the 9 capstones were chosen by students - with way too many in some areas (Mekong and CSR), which would mean putting the school's reputation into jeopardy by telling a capstone leader that no one selected their project. In the end, one project was saved by a group of smart kids who switched to the capstone openly. This enables them to have their choice of project AND know with whom they'll be working. That's the other unknown about the whole group project blind pick thing. Who knows who you'll be working with because, even if you plot with your good friends to choose XYZ, who knows if you both get it? And, as second-year students who stayed at the school (instead of doing a dual-degree program and moving over to Columbia NYC or London Sch of Econ or Hertie in Berlin or Lee Kuan Yee in Singapore), we're aware of the group dynamic complexity since other schools don't focus on this as much. The difference between last year and this year's groups is that this year you're stuck with the group for a whole 9 months, whereas last year maybe you'd be stuck with people for a week or a semester.

So, the boys were smart yesterday by letting go of particular desires (a capstone can translate into job opportunities) and going for others (clear group dynamics). I know who the people were who selected my capstone and knew I could work with them, but really, I'm much more flexible in this area. The most problematic person last year was a guy who didn't return this year. I worked with him twice, once in a big group and once in a smaller group. In the former, I was unable to really move him to think of things in a different way or communicate displeasure since there were so many other people who were already regretting his presence and trying to direct him one way or another. In the latter situation, I could kind of direct the dispersion of group tasks in a way that would influence his contribution - by re and re-emphasizing exactly what everyone's tasks were and deadlines. He did a great job in the end and we were all pleased. So, I'm not terrified by the unknown of the group dynamic as much as other people who have genuinely made enemies by either being themselves (some are slightly abrasive) or just not connecting well with other personalities.

Anyway, in the meantime, I'm also regretting being the conference organizer for this student conference in November. ... whew. From keynote speakers to panelists to alumni receptions to accommodations to supplies to registration applications to budget. I have a co-organizer who is attending LSE this year and, well, likes to delegate his activities more than I can accept and often tries to delegate back to me, which I think is hilarious. The first-year students are fantastic and really stepping up to help - thank god. We're a month away and there's a TON to do still. One day at a time. One deep breath after another.

Here's some Paris in the autumn - I have gotten out a bit these days.

Oh those Latin Americans..

2008-09-27T01:31:00.000+02:00

they can really drink you under the table.

I am so thrilled to be back in school you can't even imagine. I am ecstatic to have a schedule - boulangerie for the best bread at 6pm, groceries at the market on Saturday, class orientation at 9am until 9pm. I'm too happy for anyone to be this happy. I walked home tonight - and not intoxicated but filled with a few beers with friends from last year - with a wide grin to send to the ladies on the corner, the men in the arab grocery stores, the couple holding hands on the metro, the people on the street. I am too happy for this world!

Yes, I loved my summer in Geneve, and yes, I felt free, but more than that, I feel ... like fireworks, like a birthday ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, like Christmas right before you open the presents... I feel this about every day of life. I am so thankful thank you thank you thank you to whomever is owed these thanks for me being alive and free and fortunate and lucky to live.. LIVE. Even in the struggle of fear of the financial collapse, the fear of no job next year, the fear of deciding classes, the fear of what Presidential candidates are deciding each day, the fear of poverty ever-lasting, the sadness of corruption, the depression of losing all holds on reality.. despite these, and WITH them, I am still blessed to feel such utter contentment with life.

"Death is the Easy Way" by My Morning Jacket played on my headphones as I walked home. Replayed over and over again. It's a horribly depressing song, but it inspired in me a sense of freedom and remembrance that death is the easy way and life is hard and messed up and difficult and messy and not easy and my god I'm so lucky to have it. And I'm not at all naive enough to think that this moment will last. I know that in 4 weeks I'll be stressed out and complaining and freaking out and wishing for simpler times. But I will still, even then, remember how lucky I am to feel the feelings of those emotions and experiences.

It will be 11 years this October when Mike killed himself. I can see him standing here right now. I even almost forgot his name but I could still see his face, his fresh-faced youth snicker and blonde hair and glasses. His punk look and detached coolness. He was dating Liberty, my roommate in Minneapolis. She was one of eight roommates at the time in our 3-story house. I had just meet her in the kitchen one day, after I had re-enlisted into college after a two year absence. I moved in with my old friends and she was new and blonde and black clothes. We all were then. And she came with Mike later, who became a funny, comical character around the house. He was in a band, as were so many of our friends then. He lived with like five other guys over at Dead End Alley - named that for the street sign just outside their house. Minneapolis was and is a cold place with generously warm hearts and a ton of community. But he was suffering. And Liberty helped in so many ways. She'd made an appointment with him with a psychologist or some such. The day before the appointment, he climbed into a car in the carport of Dead End Alley and hitched a tube between the exhaust pipe and the window.

He is my inspiration. Every autumn. It used to be every day, then every week, then month, then he just kind of melted into my own thoughts and personality. He has become a talisman in a way. Live now. Life is short. Live well. Live with all the emotions of life. Life is bigger than just happiness. Life is broader than just joy. Life is all the pain and sadness and hatred and depression and happiness and success. Life just fucking is. And this is his gift to me.

I can still see him standing there.

Slightly goofy and too smart for his own good.

And I'm smiling now. Laughing even!

God, he's given me a good thing.

Life is short. It should be lived to the fullest in any way possible.

Yah.

Yeah.

Well, here's to Mike. And to my friends Eduardo and Juan Pablo and Kimberley. For tonight. We hadn't seen each other since last year and they invited me for beers. We were close in varying degrees last year. Degrees that came and went like waves. Disgust, anger, rejection, friendship, confidence, love, hatred, jealousy, indifference. But we had such good talks tonight. There are some people in life that are just that. Friends in unique degrees, who are deeper friends than we know, revealed to us only in special moments. These people are ... well, I hope never to lose them. Like Dasha. She is far from me but we are friends. I know this without having to read her words. But it's icing on the cake to see a sentence from her. I'm not afraid of being far from my friends because I know I can find them again. Petty, but Facebook has helped this triple-fold. Regardless of it, I am so fortunate to know that my friends, family, loved ones are out there - in the world. Rooting for me. Working on just causes. Loving each other. Loving life. This sustains me. And, my god, I'm so fortunate for this knowledge and feeling.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Thank YOU.
yes, YOU.

Life is short. Be it. Live it. Be here now.

Mad Dog Palin

2008-09-24T16:38:00.002+02:00

"John McCain's running mate may be a tawdry, half-assed fraud — but that's not as scary as what her candidacy really says about America."

The October 2nd issue of Rolling Stone has an article by Matt Taibbi, 'The Lies of Sarah Palin' which is an excellent commentary on what this election represents and has devolved to. You can read it here.

this is my love of language

2008-09-13T21:29:00.000+02:00

Oh, Paris, city of...

2008-09-12T15:35:00.003+02:00

Lights
Traffic
That special smell of urine mixed with fresh bread with salty armpits and gorgeous cheese
Hot sun and cool wind
Grey tin roofs
Staring
Eyes demanding a "pardon" if one bumps into another person
Welcoming smiles from the local boulangerie and cave
Dog poop in the grates around trees
Short chimneys lined like ceramic pots waiting for gods
Flies who know to dart into an apartment and can find their way out immediately
Daredevil pigeons that blow the hair out of your face
Groups of chanting, drunk tourists
A new "traditional" restaurant on the corner (replacing the old Italian one)
A burned, empty building where I had my last panini (little bugs crawled on my shoes there)

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I am frantically trying to re-build my nest. The apartment looked the same when I got in and the first thing I did was unlock the shutters, push them open and let the air in. It rained just after I bought dinner. The subletters left a bit of food and odds and ends. I made my bed and fixed the futon. I took a shower and adjusted things (soap dish over here, shower head like so). I remembered this place. Now, I'm trying to unpack the boxes I left and the things I brought back from Geneve. In between, buying groceries and amenities. In between, running off this afternoon to school to meet with my colleague to talk about the conference, see some friends there. I am Scandinavian American, and we like to keep busy. .. I guess ..

Meanwhile, I'm walking the long way to the supermarche to absorb the city again. It's brilliant. It's brilliant to see the tourists (less now than the past couple of months though) with eyes wide open and giggles as they walk from Pigalle to the Moulin Rouge - all the sex stores surprise them. UK frat boy types posing with arms spread wide in front of the 3-story Sex World store. Older couples giggling with cameras around their necks. And, on the benches, along the promenade, sit all the regulars - some with beers, some waiting for their man, some with sandwiches. I love this neighborhood.

It's easy to jump back in, although it takes me my own sweet time to do it. I miss having the awesome flatmate I had. I miss the lake and the old town and my dear bicycle. I miss petite chat Lion. I made some good friends there and I miss them.

Easing in....

Leaving on a jet plane

2008-09-09T19:44:00.004+02:00

Well, rather, on a fast train.

Bought my ticket to Paris on Monday. Leaving on 9/11. Seems appropriate since I left the USA for Paris on the same date - after all, tickets are cheaper then. It's my reinvention of a bad day into something good, some change.

Cinque Terre was great. It wasn't the pilgrimage I thought it would be, but it brought me closer to my good friend. It was a lot drier this time around so we weren't slipping on rocks the whole hike. The pasta was excellent, the seafood fresh, the sun boiling, the exercise cathartic.

Since I got back to Geneve, have been working on photos, working on the conference I'm planning for the students of my school and 4 other schools that will happen in November. (How oh how did I rope myself into this one?) Also, caught all the DNC and RNC action online. Interesting differences. I'm scared, I'm hopeful, I have no idea what's going on. It feels strange not to be participating in another one of the most important historic events of my country. Strange, but relieving. I don't envy my past co-workers who are working so hard for this election. I'm slightly disillusioned, but yet inspired still by Obama. I can't imagine what the campaign trail does to a person, but I hope everyone is taking their vitamins. (Especially after the news clips of Hilary talking about eating pizza all the time.)

.....
9/11/08

It's always strange to see an empty room without the hope and excitement of filling it. I can't wait to arrive in Paris, although I'm not looking forward to the miles of up/down stairs with my backpack and suitcase. They need to invent elevators. Seriously, I still wonder what physically-challenged people do to get around. And, then, I'll have the long climb of 101 stairs to my apartment. I'll go up, unload the backpack, go down, separate out the suitcase and go up with both. Then, I will pass out. No, then, I will make the bed, check the apartment, get food, get wine, and slowly unpack to fill an empty room with future.

Last night, the flatmate and I had a wonderful meal, drank really great wine, and read tarot cards again. It's quite interesting this pagan ritual. Interpretation can play a major part, but I never, not once, picked up the "fool" card. In fact, it seemed as if my fingers were blessed to pick out only cards with strength, communication, warmth, internal power, and victory. I'm excited about this next year of school, and I can't wait to see what happens afterwards.

Well, see you all back in Paris! Oui, oui, Paris.

Ciao, Geneve!

Now, that's good organizer talk

2008-08-29T11:03:00.001+02:00

“I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don’t fit the typical pedigree, and I haven’t spent my career in the halls of Washington. But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the naysayers don’t understand is that this election has never been about me. It’s about you.”

- Barack Obama, August 28, 2008

Maybe some McCain supporters are racist

2008-08-28T15:32:00.003+02:00

I pondered it before.

But now I'm starting to think that they really are.

Chris Matthews Battles Full-On PUMA Inanity

"PUMAs -- women who love Hillary Clinton whilst simultaneously hating the policies for which Clinton has fought." c/o Huffington

Now I feel far away

2008-08-23T14:50:00.001+02:00

I really don't have a formulated opinion on the Biden bid. Any thoughts from you all?

I hear Paris is turning into September already. Geneva is turning chilly, although next week promises to be back up in the sunny 77F-80F (25C-27C), just when I finish the internship. I'm keeping an eye on Cinque Terre weather for the last weekend in August to early September (hi, mom & dad, I'm going to Italy for a few days with my Russian friend, Dasha). It's supposed to stay in the same temperatures as Geneva next week. I'm not one to talk much to anyone about the weather, but I have noticed how tremendously much happier I am in the sun and heat. I guess I should find a job in Africa or Central America to keep the spirits up. (only somewhat kidding)

I have noted to a few people that I have been under the weather (hardy har har) of late. Not sick, but low in spirits and not just because of the change in weather. In self-analysis, I'm realizing it's because I miss my friend. Dasha left last week to go to summer school up in the Netherlands. I hadn't really spent that kind of time with anyone since I left Madison. Almost all of my colleagues in school in Paris were friends, but we were working so hard night and day (well, I was) that I didn't have one or two people with whom I spent much time. For nearly two months here I worked with Dasha, went out on the weekends with her, spent nights with her. It was very interesting how quickly we gravitated to each other. Her face in slight features kind of reminded me of photos of my sister when she was a kid - long straight hair, rounder face and warm eyes. We have so much in common, too.

So, when I went to bed the other night, after a nice meal with the flatmate and her friends, I laid there wondering what was wrong with me. I have felt so happy for weeks and weeks. All that surfaced was "Something is missing." I hadn't felt that longing, homesickness (for a person), or minor emptiness in a long time. It was good to feel this. Life is full and diverse and it's not realistic to be happy 24-7 (nor is it healthy to be dependent or sad or angry or whatnot 24-7). I'm lucky to feel it all.

......................

More new photos - mostly in request from the colleague interns that I get the photos online of them, for them, and asap - you can find them in the "UNOG and intern friends" folder. We've had weekly good-bye parties for interns as they depart their internship and go wherever next. I am so thrilled to have made good friends in such a short time. So proud to know such an amazing array of people from all over the world, who are ambitious, smart, funny, and kind people. I've never spent much time with people from Central Asia or Russia, especially during a critical period of international activity. We have discussed the culture of the USA (including the more patriotic side of things from the point of view of an intern who is Russian-born, American by choice versus my more critical point of view as someone who is American by birth, world-traveller by choice). We have taught each other new languages. We have suffered heartbreak, found new jobs, had interviews, shared food, met each others' friends, and laughed so much together. I think that this is the strongest point of the internship. I might not have networked myself to the perfect job after graduation, but I can rest assured that I have made good friends who might one day end up working with me - or me for them!

.................
oh, and there's a ton of new videos from Italy up on youtube/larauk05

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose

2008-08-11T22:42:00.000+02:00

(Janis Joplin)

I've enjoyed my bike immensely. Last Saturday, Dasha (who pointed out that her name is not spelled the German way with a C) and I took the train to Lausanne and then biked to Montreux with a couple of stops in Clarens, and a difficult, uphill, brief detour through some vineyards. Here's the bike path we did (22.65 miles, 36.5 km).

They call it the Swiss Riviera and it's listed on UNESCO's most beautiful places in the world. But it's no Cinque Terre, let me tell you. Far too many cars and not enough wild. Regardless, it was a great GREAT bike ride.

We stopped in Vevey and considered going to the photo museum there (since we're both photographers) but the day was too nice to hide inside. We had gigantic pizzas instead and pushed on to Clarens to pilgrimage to Vladimir Nabokov's grave. Some old lady, who thought she was being nice and knew a thing or two, told us (after we had climbed a steep hill to get to the cemetery) that he was actually buried in Vevey and wasn't it funny how so many people made this confusion, driving up here in their cars and driving back. Ha. Ha. Not funny.

We biked down the hill and off to Montreux, which someone likened to Florida and I'd agree. Lots of palm trees, old people, and slow walkers. It's a south-facing city and so it's sunny hot and really steamy hot in the afternoon. The tourist office informed us that Nabokov was indeed buried back in Clarens, along with 22 other famous people. I cursed that old lady with my fist in the air. Curses!!! We stopped by monument to Freddy Mercury and paid tribute to him, as well as a weird mime dressed in a glittery gold sheet. (I've never understood the fascination with them.)

Then, we had a coffee across the street from the casino (which sold Lagerfeld men's suits - to give you context versus the casinos on reservations in Wisconsin) and, since we weren't going to bike the extra miles to the Chateau de Chillon, I read Byron's "The Prisoner of Chillon" to her there, in the middle of hot boiling sun and weird bar music in the background.

We biked back to Clarens, and up that damn hill to the cemetery. Crept inside the church, which was decked out in strange pastel-colored stained glass, and found no guide to find Nabokov. We started walking and passed the newer graves heading to a building in the center of the cemetery, thinking it might have maps. As we were walking, I thought, this is just like the moment when my sister and I were driving into Modena, Italy, and couldn't find the damn hotel, driving in circles around the city. And just when my sister and I were entering the old town and were frantically looking for street signs amid busy pedestrians, she spotted the street name and led us to the hotel. And, then, just like that, Dasha spotted Vladimir and Vera's grave. Huzzah.

I had a bit of mental connection and for the first time in my life, watered someone's grave.

We cruised down the hill from the cemetery and turned to the train station and trained it back to Geneva.

It was a great day.

(Photos forthcoming)

Who is the man that would risk his neck for his brother man?

2008-08-11T22:40:00.000+02:00

(Shaft!)

As a friend wrote, big props to Bernie Mac and Issac Hayes.

#############

What you don't know by yourself, you don't know.

--Socrates

#############

Things have been somber lately. I work in an office with four Russian women and down the hall, a Macedonian, a couple of French, an Argentine, a couple of Italians, and a Georgian. We have been watching so much different worldly news, and feeling so many conflicts.

One of my Russian friends commented that she was thinking about how biased the media in both of the countries are (Russia, Georgia). I replied "RE: media bias in both countries (all countries for that matter)...

Reading a book on Gilles de Rais. In 1420, a war between two families in France, '...it was decided that [the] immediate task was to raise an army of 50,000 men. This is an enormous figure for the period and probably represents wishful thinking rather than fact. It was common practice in the Chronicles of the time to exaggerate the number of soldiers involved in any engagement and to falsify casualty lists in in favour of whichever side one happened to be writing for. Everyone knew and nobody cared.'

Seems we haven't come very far in 600 years."

The Georgian colleague and I spoke at length and her family is living near one of the many places that has been bombed.

It seems we don't get very far at all in the history of days, and our histories are written by bias, and our memories fail us.

#############

I'm also having a fascinating debate on Facebook about the Edwards scandal. Some have called this an exceptional event, while I see no difference from any other sordid political/sex revelation. I'm not even very interested in retelling the commentary here. What I will note is that I'm terribly curious about the way different cultures view their political leaders and their private lives. Some holding them in high esteem close to messiahs, while others separate the leadership of constituents from the bedroom antics.

#############

A piece of a conversation with a friend today:

We should be our own best friends and we should find happiness through ourselves. It is a blessing to be able to share that with another person... To have strength and stability (as much as is possible in this difficult world), and then share that with someone, instead of feeding off of their contentment to boost ours.

Regarding being what we really are.. I was talking to someone about this recently. For the life of me, I cannot remember which philosopher or writer, but a guy I read while studying in Spain, wrote a poignant piece about the harmful effects of denying one's "calling." When we are supposed to be mechanics, we can only be bankers for so long before our misery drives us insane (insert whichever career or way of living or whatever). If we are close to our soul/spirit/energy/mind, we can hear our future calling to us. Suppressing that voice, repressing the core desires of our purpose on earth (in this body, at this time, in this country, with these talents) will only lead to our own suffering, not to mention an injustice to the world and to history. This is the ultimate fight of every person. To be aware of it, and to live as one should, the way that is written by you and not by society or family or church, that is the ultimate power and the biggest everyday challenge.

Socrates was very, very correct. And, even when you know it by yourself, the hard task is to recognize it every day.

#############

As for me, all I know is that I know nothing. - Socrates

MSN.com looks more and more like tabloid news

2008-08-08T20:28:00.003+02:00

click to enlarge.. if you dare.

Stop, summer, stop

2008-08-06T22:24:00.000+02:00

I just want this heat and sun and summer to last.

All of a sudden I feel homesick for my family.

I am editing and uploading photos from my sister trip to Italy and realize that I miss my family and, also, think my soul somehow connected with Cinque Terre very deeply. It is not only one of the most beautiful places on earth but really resonated inside me. Sure, the Taj Mahal is amazing, sure Antartica is incredible, and yes I'm sure the pyramids are a sight to behold, but something in the Cinque Terre area made me feel free, content, liberated, strong, at peace, and like I could chuck it all and go open a tarot card reader shop and be happy for the rest of my life. Or, maybe I could help the old guy at Due Gemelli run his hotel.

One of many dreams that inspired me to apply to grad school: It was me, retired to a flat on the 14th floor of an apartment building overlooking a park in Buenos Aires. I have a library, an ottoman, my crippled body shuffling to the window, my own books on the shelves behind me. Now, I wonder if I could put that overlooking the sea in Corniglia.

On our third day in Cinque, we hiked from Vernazza (which seemed like heaven on water the day before when we arrived after hiking for hours) to Corniglia. It was not the most beautiful town, and we followed the signs to the "beach" which was hundreds of stairs down from the hill (we thought of the return upwards and groaned). Almost to the end of the stairs at the rocky cliff "beach," we passed a two-story building. A man came out to his two dogs. I thought of Miller, Hemingway, every lighthouse man, every writer or painter by the sea. He, along with the memory of the man the day before, who stepped out onto his porch when we were mid-hike, mid-olive grove, mid-vineyard, he stepped out to tinker with a machine part in the sun. Was there a cigarette in the corner of his mouth? And when I tried in French-Spanish-Italian-English to tell him he was lucky to live here, he commented back in broken English that he was old, I was young. This form of solitude at the slowing down days. I want this.

....

Two years ago, I wrote somewhere that I wanted to be an intern at the UN.

Be careful what you wish for.

....

I wish to be in the hills of Cinque Terre. Before my hands are disabled by arthritis. Before I can no longer hike the hills. And after I know I can afford to mold myself into the hills and seas, rocks and cobblestones. My soul has so many houses on this planet. I have not returned to the most important yet. Some day I will.

The metric system

2008-07-29T21:54:00.000+02:00

My parents are hilarious, helpful, and keep really cool things.

We used to live at Ramstein - when I was 6-9 years old.

The Biggest Issue

2008-07-29T10:30:00.004+02:00

NYT Op-Ed by David Brooks

Really interesting.

"Why did the United States become the leading economic power of the 20th century? The best short answer is that a ferocious belief that people have the power to transform their own lives gave Americans an unparalleled commitment to education, hard work and economic freedom."

As I told the friend who forwarded it to me:
Wow. Thank you so much for sharing this.

I don't fully agree with the pessimistic, condemning decision that "By 5, it is possible to predict, with depressing accuracy, who will complete high school and college and who won't." But I wholly agree that USA's increasing protectionism against globalization is the wrong direction, and that education leading to innovation and increasing human capital is the right one. Let's hope that Obama can use the latter while campaigning more than the former, too. The world out here is exhibiting concern over our reactionary defensiveness, and it doesn't bode well for our people.

Spasiba muchisimo.

Photos (I'm away, please leave a message)

2008-07-28T23:12:00.000+02:00

Took the train from Geneva to Rolle last Saturday (after Friday night in the park at a free Armenian ethno jazz concert and a stop by the strange, man-grabby festival by the Lac). Then, my friends Dascha and Marlena (Russian and German respectively - a nice day of international diplomacy) and I biked from Rolle to Lausanne for about 28km.

Sunday I stayed in all day and was productive. Please check the work! Work, ha. I'm just trying to catch up with all the photos. I'm in between June and Italy and July and Geneva and Paris and Brittany, and a bit of May friends visiting Paris.

Internship is going well. I'm enjoying learning about new things, but not feeling so challenged. It's understandable but uncomfortable. Geneva is too conservative for me and too old school (stores close at 6:45pm - have I mentioned that?!). But I have pals and that's nice.

Spasiba. Merci. Gracias. Danke. Thanks. I am learning.

New photo sets:
Edinburgh
Geneva in May (first visit)
Bridget in Paris (high school friend, hadn't seen each other in 17 years)
Lion brings me a gift (cats are weird)
Meals, snacks, wines (some new Geneva wines and food)
Jennie, Melissa, Paul in Paris (old friends from Madison, back in May)
Sisters in Europe: Paris to Venice to Cinque Terre - Day 1
Sister in Italy: Cinque Terre - Day 2 (still being uploaded)
Geneva first weekend (with flatmate and her friend)
Geneva apartment (when I first moved in and it wasn't "lived in")
at the UNOG (a few first photos)
20eme - Pere Lachaise Cemetary (back to Paris for a visit, aka home of Jim Morrison of The Doors fame and a bunch of other cool things)
4th of July, Geneva (a weird Uncle Sam loses his mustache and I brought a Russian friend to infiltrate)

Enjoy!!

giggles

2008-07-22T17:01:00.000+02:00

more graph humor and song chart memes

Are some McCain supporters racist?

2008-07-22T10:37:00.004+02:00

My interpretation of this image: I wanted Hillary, she pulled out, and there's no way I'd vote for a black man so I went for the other white person in the race.

I hope I'm just misunderstanding this photo - taken from the McCain website.

Also, an interesting article on "Young Republicans, Blue About the Prospects Ahead." These 20-somethings will be 30-something and vying to run the country. Pay heed.

A gift... or a warning?

2008-07-20T13:40:00.003+02:00

(Please skip this post if you're squeamish or an animal lover)

So, my allergies have been worse this summer than ever before. Part of it is the fresh outdoors of Geneva - which isn't so common in pollution-congested Paris. Part of it was the feather pillow and feather duvet (comforter, couette), which I traded for a sheepskin duvet and an orange blanket. Part of it is living with a cat. The last time I lived with a cat was way back in the punk rock days with the 8 kids in a 3-story house in Minneapolis: Mika and Mico, Emily's cats. I guess my allergies got used to them over time. So, for the situation in Geneva, I've been taking some homeopathic drops 3 times a day and it seems to be fine.

My flatmate's cat, Lion (pronounced in a French way as lee-OH), is actually a scaredy cat and is spooked easily. I can wave my hands when he comes creeping into my bedroom and he bolts back out. I can walk slowly down the hallway to the bathroom and he'll turn and run the other way. So, I'm not afraid of him making any relaxation imprints on my bed at all, or rubbing up all over me as I'm seated in the kitchen.

Well, my flatmate went out of town to a festival in France and told me how to scoop the poop out of the cat box and into the -plop!- toilet. How to feed him by putting a bit of hard cat food in the bowl and then dump a packet of wet food on top (he prefers the latter). There's a small jar of water in the bathroom for him to drink - not for keeping the room humid, as I'd wondered oddly. And basically that's it. He sleeps up in the loft where my flatmate sleeps. Instead of using the ladder from the loft the ground level of our apartment, he crawls out on the roof and into the apartment through the window of the bathroom, scaring the crap out of me - as I'm actually doing said act. I guess there's not enough room around the ladder for him to run down it without running into the wall so the jump from the bathroom window to the sink to the floor is easier. I'm used to this now and when I hear him meow from the bathroom window or see his shadow on the floor, I can warn him if it's a good time to come in or not. I mean, after all, a girl needs her privacy.

So, last night, I came home and heard him meowing a bit sadly, missing my flatmate, and decided I'd give him a bit of lovin' attention. I squatted in the hallway and put my hand out lazily for him to pet himself and let me kind of pet him a bit. He circled around my body purring and petting me back with his tail. And then he was off to do whatever. (Of course, I immediately washed my hands, apologizing to him from the bathroom: "It's not you, Lion, it's me. Really. Sorry.")

I usually shut my bedroom door when I go to sleep just to be sure Lion won't come in, and to get a bit of privacy. As I went to bed last night, I decided to leave my bedroom door open for breeze but also so he wouldn't feel so alone (or is it so I wouldn't feel so alone?). I didn't hear the ghosts, I didn't feel afraid, I slept well until early in the morning when I heard a sound of paper hitting something. Maybe the breeze caught a poster in the hall or something. I slept fine.

In the beautiful Sunday morning of sleeping in, I got up slowly and felt so good (a 13km = 8.077mi hike on Saturday helped).

The places where dreams are made.. waking up slowly on Sunday.

Sunny Sunday morning - lovely!

go out the bedroom - loft ladder

hallway to bathroom - whoops! the poster fell off the wall (that's what that sound was)

such a pretty poster of a brown-haired girl

she has people and birds

what's that weird thing at the end of the rug? (sleepy eyes)

Oh.. it's a bird head.

Here's the email I sent to my flatmate:
Subject: the weird question of the day
Message:
So, I woke up today and the poster in the hall next to the bathroom with the woman and the people and the birds - it had fallen off the wall in the night. At the end of the rug toward the front door was a dead (but not too bloody) bird head. I understand that it's a gift from Leon - I spent some time last night petting him a bit since he was missing you - but is it also because he's hungry?

Or he doesn't like me?
As my imagination is very dark sometimes.. this is immediately what I thought: the scene from the Godfather (scary movie clip) and the meaning (words).

Anyway. I'm not sure how to tell him that I appreciate it, but don't want more. And I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to be able to pick it up. I might have to ask the downstairs neighbor guy to do it. :\ eek!

How is France?

L.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I was brave. I used the dustpan and a piece of hard paper, a plastic bag and the garbage is going downstairs today. I haven't seen the culprit aka admirer. I've heard the birds outside squawking a bit from time to time so I know he's around. He'll get a nice thank you and then a good scolding. Maybe it'll make sense.. considering I have to do this in French (I don't think he knows any English yet).

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

PS. I won't share all the images because they're gory and not appropriate for mixed audiences. If you're interested you can certainly view them on my flickr sets as "Lion brings me a gift."

Gift or warning?
You decide.

I think I can, I think I can

2008-07-10T13:51:00.002+02:00

map

idea

We'll see if I can get a ride.

(for you, mom and dad)

Selle que j'aime

2008-07-06T21:37:00.001+02:00

It's raining and raining and raining. I thought I knew how rain was produced. Big body of water, hot hot sun, clouds make precip, precip builds, falls in form of rain. If this is indeed the case, then the whole Lac Leman should be a desert by now.

Friday was the 4th. I went to a tame expat event in the park near my apartment, and brought my infiltrating Russian friend, Daria. We had cupcakes, which I haven't had in years. I got photos with a guy dressed as Uncle Sam and with a cardboard cut-out of Obama.

Saturday morning I got up and my flatmate read my tarot to the question: What will I be when I grow up? She turned the question to: What traits do I have now that will help me to the future job? My cards: the traveling magician, the lover, the devil. Hmmm. That reads horribly on paper, but a deeper discussion / reading proves that there are some good lessons and guides. Then, we did positive thinking: "I have a bicycle" -- instead of "I'm up early to go to this random bike shop in Carouge owned by some Scottish dude in hopes that I'll get a bike today so I can go bike 50km round-trip to Nyon. Please let there be a bike!"

I also need a bike for the summer, because basically Geneva is a bike town. I'm on a straight-shot bus line to my internship, which is excellent. But the bus is 2chf (=2$) for essentially what they call "a short trip" of 3 stops or less. My ride is 20 minutes, but more than 3 stops. An hour ride is 3chf (=3$), a 9am-9pm is 5chf, and a 24-hour is 7chf. Ridiculous. If I were to get a monthly pass it would be 50chf if I was under 28. For us old fogies, it's 70chf. So, I figure, July and August = 140chf, if I can get a bike, helmet, basket, kick-stand, night light, bell for 140chf I'm much better off. Plus, the added freedom since the buses run every 7-10 minutes and the stores close at 6pm, 6:30pm, 6:45pm. Add to it, this is bicycle country, man! And, I don't live at the top of the steep Veille Ville hill either.

So, I went over to the bike shop on the tram (haven't ridden a tram since Berlin). The morning was sunny, the old lady who gave me directions was sweet, the market at Marché in Carouge was colorful and beautiful and natural, and the bike shop was supercalifragilistic fantastic. I fell in love with a bike and a bike shop owner. This Scottish guy is too much, so unique, so cool. Everything was in the stars and the air, and I felt good.

I found the store by the line of bikes out front. Store-front window and small space. A bike upside-down, clamped down and, standing over it, a guy in black sleeveless shirt and black shorts (I forgot to note his shoes - a crucial telltale of personality). He looked up and I knew I'd find my bicycle here. Great smile, great personality. I tried my horrible French (but I already knew he was Scottish c/o one of my intern colleagues who pointed me to the store to begin with) and then kicked into English. He replied at first in French and then switched to his scratchy Scottish English.

"I'd like a bike, not for road cycling or mountain biking but for going about town, something around 140chf, is it possible?" I asked.

He scoffed a little, moved around, turned his back to me to put a tool down, and mumbled that most of the bikes in view right now were going for 260, but he didn't turn down the beginning of our bargaining. "It's possible, I mean what kind of bike do you want? A man's frame? A woman's frame?"

"It doesn't matter so much. A bike that needs a little repair but something I can have soon since I'm only here for 2 months. Nothing too new. Nothing too shiny. A little character would be great. It'd match me. A bike that's been loved."

He turned back around and looked up. "Loved? How am I supposed to know if it's been loved?" He asked me a bit smiling, a bit sarcastic.

"Well, we don't know how the owners treated the bike, but I'm sure you love each one of them as you work on them."

He showed me a couple of bikes that basically need a bit of repair. Depending on the price and time it would take to repair leads us to the final bidding price. Some gorgeous 1950s bodies. One was a possibility but the other needed too much work/time. "Well, I guess you want to see the back then?" he half-asked, half-said. "I don't know. Do I? What's back there?" I mean, how was I supposed to know. I didn't know the place. He went outside, around to the back of the building where there were 3 bikes laying around the walls surrounding the yard - he pointed to each and told its brief story and how much work / too much work. Then, we walked further back through the yard to a storage / garage, he opened the door and the whole thing was filled with bikes: bikes with rusty chains, bodies on twisted tires, bodies with handle bars that needed adjusting, bikes with crooked whatever, rusty this, broken that. But anyone who saw this could tell that he was a master of his trade and wouldn't mess around with quality. He'd do what you paid for and he'd do just enough but he'd do it well.

I didn't spot anything in the garage, turned around to go back to the front of the store, and it clicked. That one. Against the wall. The one that needed some work, but not too much, the one that survived a fire, was a bit blackened, a bit in need of fixing up, but the survivor. That's one hell of a tough bike. It's not ready to give up and it needs some love.

It's a Swiss-made bike, which he said meant it was well-made. It has a woman's frame, bell, light - all that need a bit of work, along with the chain and needing new, second-hand tires. "So, when can I pick her up?" I asked. He offered a week, I offered 10 days (since I won't be in town next Saturday). This will give more time for more attention, I hope. He grabbed a pad of receipts. "Can I have your name and number?" I gave it to him and then asked him, "And, what's your name?" Eddie. "And, can I have your number?" I was just poking a bit of fun. He gave me his business card, "I've prepared for that question." He smirked.

Selle que j'aime
pedalo ergo sum
Atelier de vélo
Réparation, vente d'occasion
11, rue de Veyrier
Carouge
076/534.09.45

Report will follow next week.

I'm not sure I can live without Swiss chocolate

2008-07-06T21:09:00.000+02:00

but I think it's exciting my asthma in a bad way. I'm eating so much of it and it's so richly made of real milk, which I rarely eat or drink. Hmmm. This might be a problem.

Anyway.

Have photos, will travel.

New albums (not all photos are labelled mind you):

buildings and places random (paris - new photos)
Paris sky
Paris metro (the last metro at night)
Sarnowskis do Paris (friends visit)
Madeleing the MPA baby (a grad school colleague had her baby)
Metro station Alexandre Dumas
#68 bus ride (short ride over Seine)
From Seine to 20eme (a walk at sunset)
Bangalore (from back in February!)

My eye

2008-07-03T19:58:00.001+02:00

"The inside of your eye is one thing you're guaranteed never to get a good look at. Even if you could, the pupil is far too small an aperture to allow you to see the entire interior. University of Michigan ophthalmologic photographer Richard Hackel compares the problem to taking a picture of a room through a keyhole. To overcome this hurdle, Hackel uses a computer program to stitch together images taken from 20 different angles by a special digital camera. The result is an unusual, fully detailed map of the inside of a healthy 26-year-old's eye."

I was afraid to look into this image at first. It's the first time my eye would be able to see itself, or an image of a similarity to itself. How would it react? Would it rejoice in seeing its insides? Would it reflect like a mirror looking at a mirror, infinitely seeing itself seeing itself? Would it recognize similarities and feel at home? Would it be curious, frightened, disgusted? Would it shatter my sight by the mere revelation?

Well, I looked. And it was okay. No explosions or implosions. It's pretty cool.

Banking in Switzerland

2008-07-02T22:41:00.003+02:00

The U.N. has almost everything one needs in case of earthquake or mass disaster or living in Switzerland.

There are like 6 sections to the UN Geneva complex. (Fret not, I'm not revealing anything that you wouldn't learn on the public tour.) There's Pregny Gate, through which every visitor or newbie must pass for security purposes. There can be many minutes of hold-up if it's a conference day, so I'm told as I escaped with great luck somehow and made it through in 20 minutes. Once the paperwork was all settled and my horrible photo taken, I haven't been back since, now I get to enter the main gate, the Nations gate, the one in all the photos with the rows of flags.

After Pregny, there's the Salle des Assemblées (Assembly Hall). I went through on the first day as I was lost and trying to cut across the grounds to get to the UNECE building. Nice people gave me bad directions. And I was shocked at how much French was required to ask for these directions and how good my French must be since they answered me in slurred, friendly French instead of clear, "you're obviously a foreigner" French. Anyway. I've been back to this complex a few times since as it houses main conference rooms, art displays, the lunch cafeteria in the basement, and the grand Delegates' Restaurant on the roof.

After the Assembly Hall, there's the Aile de Commission Assemblées-Bibliothèque (Assembly-Library Wing), which I had the pleasure of visiting the other day. Amazing library with high ceilings, the old book smell, and round, sturdy, yet cushy, leather chairs low to the ground. And, the books. Well, don't let me tell you that I wish my internship was cataloging.

After the Library is the "New Building," which I have yet to see. I can see it from my supervisor's office. I saw it from the rooftop restaurant. I have yet to enter, although we are highly encouraged to meander on breaks and explore when we have free time. I will, I will.

Then there's the Secretariat ("The department administered by a governmental secretary, especially for an international organization"), in which is housed a variety of people doing a multitude of things. I walked through it once to find a bathroom. I didn't really notice the names or titles. There are several "Portes" on these buildings and they're useful for finding the entrance to certain buildings. This one has Porte 1, which also leads to the basement shopping - watches, perfume, food, liquors, clothing, and, yes, chocolate all on discount. It's rather like back in the military days with the commissary. Not the greatest selection, but still slightly cheaper. Not the biggest room, but big enough not to die from suffocation or claustrophobia... although small enough to want to jab a few people in the back... yes, I'll have an entire entry dedicated to patience as the theme of not only my entire f'ing life, but also of this entire city of Geneva.

Finally, there's the Aile de Commission Assemblées-Conseil (Assembly-Council Wing). And behind Porte 6 is a nice world of convenience and where I work. Ground floor has a travel agent, tourist office, bookstore/kiosk, post office, photo booth for passport photos (I made some damn nice ones in black and white, too), and a bank.

So, I walked in with the necessary materials, sat down and opened a UBS bank account. Since they needed a safe, official address for delivery of documents I gave them the UN one and picked up all the info today. And, man, is there a lot! The credit card / debit card, the pin for that, the how-to do e-banking book, the access card to do e-banking, the pin for that, the access card e-banking machine reader, the instructions for that.

Yes, I said reader. If you've been in Europe lately, you'll notice they have these super cool wireless credit card readers that they bring to your table at the end of a meal. Now, you never have to hand over your card to the waiter/server/bartender/host. You flash it, or show it, or peek it out of the bill-bearing-book. They come over to your table, take your card, and either swipe it like this one:

or insert it like this one:

They hand you the latter and you enter your pin (as the server and your table guest kindly turn their heads), you view the "Code Bon" (I have yet to see it in English), the receipt prints, a-ok!

So, when I got my UBS reader in the mail, I started wondering how much money I could get off of unsuspecting foreigners by charging them randomly in the street or at cafes. Would it work? Could I pose as an undercover bank operations manager, checking people on the street to verify that their chips work?

So, here's the set-up:

Super security, folks. So, I only get my e-banking access if I can figure out how to insert the access card (the grey card in the photo with the gold chip; not the credit/debit card) into the reader and then log on to the website and simultaneously answer both questions from the reader and website and enter in answers from them both into the other. Now, I feel bad. I should be wiring hundreds of millions of dollars over instead of the meager amount I moved over for the summer.

Oh, and I don't get to keep the account after the internship. How could would I be? "Oh, this? It's just the monthly statement from my Swiss bank account." So Bond! But, if the UN keeps me on as a consultant until I get my first real UN job... then, I could. Yes, I'm trying to plot my whole internship around how I get to keep the Swiss bank account. If you have suggestions, send 'em over.

The roar from afar that is Euro Cup

2008-06-22T22:55:00.005+02:00

It is 85F in Geneva. The sun has turned me a golden brown and I'm no longer burning red under it. Although at the top floor of the old building I feel hot and the breeze is not enough. It is summer...!!

Well, finished the last weeks of May in a blur and a half-assed happiness. Given more time, I would have done better in everything. Now, I just hope I passed. Grades are available this week, but they're not mailing them out. I just so happen to have to go back for a business meeting (about the Global Public Policy Network Student Conference this fall) this coming Fri-Mon so hopefully I can end the awful suspense and receive full confirmation that I did, indeed, suck this past semester. I realize now why my prof from first semester said my paper could be publishable. I spent so much more effort inside that theme and on paper. Second semester there just wasn't adequate time to delve into each subject.

Sigh.

The last three weeks were littered with days like this: Econ 1b class, 1st year meeting (review), Amartya Sen, Matt in town, dinner with Cuba group. Or, Bridget visit, Global paper due, Econ exam review, GPPN meeting with Anand, Conflict Management paper review meeting, dinner with Bridget. Now, my ex-co-workers will confirm that I thrived in our schizophrenic days where one minute it was a volunteer training, a lobby visit, hiring interns, tracking legislation, health care meetings. But this year has felt more schizo and more multi-tasked than I felt before. And many of my friends left without announcement, possibly never to be seen again - off to summer internships and then another school in our dual-degree program next fall. My heart felt torn and my mind wiped out.

So, work happened and my mind moved and friends came. Matt and I had baguette lunch with his traveling friend, Bart, down by the Seine where it was less windy and a bit more sunny. Bridget came and, after 15 years, it only took us 20 minutes to settle back intohttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif each other as friends. We let ourselves sleep late and do our own thing during the day. She visited Rimbaud and I spent quick hours at school. We met for dinner and laughed over the über American tourists. And when I was free all day on Saturday, we went through and around and into Paris. The back way to the Sacre Coeur (thank you, Josh and Sarah!), such a perfect day, into the Museum of Montmartre to see the history of absinthe but to leave wondering where to find it.

[The giant roars as Spain kills 3 goals in 5 minutes... sorry make that Spain 4 and Italy 2 .. in the last 7 minutes - good lord!]

Up the back way to the Sacre, around its outside, through a lovely garden, down a side street into the rain and scamper under the cover of an awning of a little bistro. The nicest bartender ever. I'll go back for a salad and beer sometime soon. The corner of Rue Custine, Rue Labat, and Rue Ramey.

We left after a few hours and beers (me, drinking beer in the middle of the day, in the middle of finals prep - I felt giddy and heady and ooo what fun!) and meandered through the street to all of a sudden end up in African market land. Literally, turned a corner and there were glorious bodies of shimmering fabric, hands full of sacks of groceries, children tottling before or after, the smell of chicken roasting, saffron. Bridget is more comfortable than I am, after confronting her shyness of African women (I told her I thought that it was perhaps that they carry such mystery and magic, power and essence within layers of beautiful robes; she told me that they do have the power - they do the accounting, they portion out the shares, they labor in the field but they have the purse strings). She leads me into the fabric stores to show me the multitude of designs and colors from floor to ceiling stacked high. And then, we go on a walk through the Rue de la Goutte d'Or and then to find a bathroom.

Bridget tells it better than I have:

########

"vote football (a story)"

walking through a beautiful arab and african quarter of paris, we were
in search of a bathroom - fast. past bakeries and mosques we could not
be deterred because that's how bad lauren had to go. little old men
sitting on stools in front of big city old doors. selling something or
maybe just passing the time like in the old country. kids holding
dad's hand as they strolled the narrow walkways. elegant fabrics
sneakily pouring out of the tops of storefront doorways. we walked on
in a general direction toward something on the horizon. a field of
train tracks below gave way to a space in the skeye that told us which
direction to follow to gare de l'est.

the skeyes was dimming and it wasn't looking good for umbrellaless
urban-explorers. finally we reached a choice in the path where the
decision was immediately obvious. continue down the narrow street or
take a set of steps down to a mini-courtyard that seemed to be
bouncing around a soccer ball. we took the steps and when we arrived
at the bottom, a group of young boys ignored us very well. we were in
the way of their soccer game but they weren't going to make it
obvious. they were copying some of the best moves that they saw from
their favorite footballers on t.v. and seemed to be in a hypnotic
state about it. two white ladies in search of a bathroom could not
compare to the obstacle that their defense offered them.

until... until, i without thinking ran up to them deciding i wanted to
play too. i guess i was feeling 10 years old and didn't think of
obstacles either. but when i approached the kid with the ball, his
eyes got big, he retreated from the ball and shrank in physical size
to an image i could barely see. i realized right away what happened.
being young black immigrant african boys in a mostly white parisian
culture didn't leave a lot of room for safety. they were protecting
themselves EVEN if they had to leave their probably most prized
possession behind: their soccer ball. they were ready to run from ME!
a weird white lady and leave their game - their dream...

it felt like crap. i felt like crap. such a huge worldly pain, regret,
and guilt crept over me and i too cowered away in the opposite
direction.
trying to reconcile embarrassment, racism, pain, oppression, and all
of the embedded junk that goes with it, i got lost in my head feeling
really weird and uncomfortable. lauren still had to go to the
bathroom. but she watched the whole thing happen. and by the time i
got within whispering distance to her, all i could say was: 'those
kind of experiences are important to have to.' she replied with the
obvious, that they thought i was going to beat them up or take their
ball or something like that - i don't remember exactly. but then she
said the most memorable, 'that's why you have to try again.' i think i
said 'WHAT?' still recovering and imagined being in recovery mode for
a few days or weeks... she said 'you have to try again' and
simultaneously realized that the public library just across the street
probably had a bathroom. she began to disappear in that direction as i
mulled over her comment.

hmmm. what the heck. so i went back to the game and gently, in my
nicest french, quietly asked them if i could play. they stared and me
and were of course weirded out. who is this lady? and what does she
want? i couldn't have answered the question either, so i am glad that
it was their eyes and not their mouths that asked me. they were
hesitant, but finally the leader put me in the least desirable
position on the court yard bumpy rocky 'field' that was starting to
get quite slippery from the french drizzle. i became their goalie.
which freed them to show off their best footwork even on pavement that
may as well have been ice.

with my back to the steps, i was guarding a space between a railing
and a wall. it was too big for the number of amazingly dexterous kids
running at me in the rain, but i didn't complain. i just strapped my
backpack on tight. pushed up my sleeves, and awaited the plummeting of
goals over my head, through my legs, under my arms, and too far for my
slippery reach in both directions.

eventually they started calling me madame and told me to take my
backpack off so i could be more comfortable. a few smiles started to
creep up on their pro-footballer faces and a few times their was as
much laughter falling as their was rain. we were lucky to be semi
under cover and only the ground was really getting wet - which i
repeat was NOT easy to maneuver. it felt like a game of broom ball on
the frozen over baseball field of a mid-western town. with just a
soccer ball and a bunch of friends these kids knew how to have fun
despite their surroundings. they found a field half the size of a
tennis court with buildings on two sides, steps on one, and a street
on the other. it was clear they had been playing there for awhile.
because they knew with exactly how much force they had to kick the
ball in order to pass it to a distant teammate but not kick it as far
as the street. i was the only one who ever kicked it into the street.
big faux pas. big eyes.

i have to say, i did make a few saves and got quite sweaty in the
short time that i played, but for the most part it was evident that
these boys were the football heroes, and i was not.

lauren came back at some point, but i didn't notice her for quite some
time - being so immersed in my game. when i did look up she was
smirk-smiling from behind her camera. on a high note i left the game
and joined her, watching from the sidelines. she said after she went
to the bathroom, she had a chance to vote in the library. the question
was: should immigrants be allowed to vote in local elections? an
interesting juxtaposition of experiences... it sure would be nice if
the parents of these kids could have a voice in the decision making of
their community. i can just see these boys as professional footballer
casting their ballots ten years from now.

#########

The photos are in progress. I'm right now working on the ones from my friends the Family Sarnowski visit back in the end of April. Yes, that far behind. But... now I have time, my friends!!

**this was finished on 23 June - I'm not ready to talk about the internship yet, but today was a good day at the United Nations.**

finished, fini, finito, f grad school

2008-06-02T12:03:00.001+02:00

Did anyone else want to cry pounds of saltwater out of their tear ducts when they did the last spell check on the last paper that felt like the last ounce of energy in their body?

Well, there's no time to stop now.

My sister comes to town tomorrow at 8am (I desperately need 1 day to sleep all day!!!). We hug and then run down to my school so I can print the final copy and email the final to the prof. I pay the landlord rent - if he's lucky. We find me my own guide book to Northern Italy. We buy a few needed items since I've had no time to run errands. We drink at least 2 bottles of cheap French wine in celebration of me finishing my first year of grad school without tearing out all of my hair -- although I have noticed I'm shedding more than I ever did before in my life. We cruise the Venice Marco Polo rental car agencies online, pick one (she's such a smart girl and got the international driving license before she left the US - me? I was thinking I could just walk in and show them my badass driving skills.... seriously, I was neck-deep in the Fed).

Then, Tuesday we hop an Easy Jet to Venice, get a car and head for the west. It's so unplanned right now and I'm not freaking out at all about that. In fact, I could care less what happens to us over there. If we could just find a little room in a little town with a bunch of good olives and good wine and cute Italian people, I'll be happy. I'm revisiting college days and only packing a small bag. I am hoping for a Sofia Loren moment in a sundress and handbag overlooking some nice windy, tiny town where small boys chase balls in the street and the men lean out windows to whistle. .. Or, again, just a room and some wine.

I totally think I bombed the last two papers I wrote and frankly, senioritis has me so bad right now that I can't care too badly. But then I remember my high standards of late and think maybe it's not so bad. And that really each paper I write could turn into a PhD if given enough time. I reviewed my Ethiopia-Eritrea paper with the prof, which almost sent me into fits. He highlighted like every other line and was really way too interested in my paper than I thought it warranted. He asked for a few clarifications that made me panic. I mean, frankly, I write a paper, turn it in and forget it just to move on to the next thing. How am I supposed to remember what I meant by the negotiations already being biased based on the fact that the Ethiopians were requested to move back to their territory prior to the 1987 conflict? (Hmmm I guess I do remember - it meant that the unmarked border was in essence falling to the benefit of the Ethiopians as the border wasn't theirs to determine necessarily. Having international orgs determine this line inflamed Eritrea and cast a shadow of favoritism over the whole negotiation. ... hmm.. Yeah, I did love that paper.)

Anyway. Other than that paper, I'm clueless on any grades and I don't care. Grad school isn't really about grades. It's more about effort and comprehension. And I like that. And I also like that it's over for now.

So, sister and I and Italy. Venice, Florence, Cinque Terre, Venice, back to Paris. We'll have a half-day here and then the graduation of the 2nd years - my last real time to see them and see a bunch of my own cohorts. So bizarre the ending to this year. There wasn't a single event of closure at all. No big bang. No big fiesta or fete or frankenweiner. All of a sudden, we were all in a panic to finish papers in the last 3 weeks and then people just kind of peeled off. I happened to be there at the time when one of my friends was leaving to go finish packing to return to Canada the next day and then go off to LSE or Columbia for the next year. Kind of suffering separation anxiety, and kind of totally excited to know I have some amazing friends all over the world again.

Bittersweet this.

On another front, I'm kind of seeing someone. Man, I haven't even told my in-person friends about this really. But I guess I can tell the whole anonymous world (I'm pretending my family doesn't read this right now). He's French, and kind of very French. He's a bit more romantic than my pragmatic American senses, but there's mutual respect for these differences. Last night he had me over for an apertif to meet a ton of his friends and then to this super kickass monthly event at Telebocal. An independent TV/film production group. It seemed very punk rock, DIY, hippie, original. The gist is that they film events, do on-street interviews and then have a showing of their work monthly. A lot of interns from local universities and young people. I laughed so hard - and actually laughed at the right places and actually understood a lot of the low-brow humor. Got to meet more new French friends. And then got to dance my booty off! The end band was this amazing alternative, mod, punk rock precussion ensemble with a room full of drum sets and musicians in sunglasses playing plastic kid's toys. It was fantastic. So, yes, while I'm moaning about the work load, I am getting out and enjoying the sunlight and night events.

So, one of the interesting things about last night was the amount of times I got up from the couch. Right, sounds like nothing unusual. But literally, every person who comes in greets every person already there. So, every time someone arrived we'd get up from the deep-seated couch and kiss right-left cheek and sneak in our name as intro and then "enchante," which I love because it's so fairy-tale. But, man, what a ritual. I remember Argentina having the right-cheek kiss at intros, but did they have it at departures? And was it so formal that at a party everyone would get up and do the rounds? And who invented cheek-kissing anyway? And who determines how many in which country? Santa? The Queen?

Yes. Well. So there's Paris, then Italy, then Paris for about a week during which I scrub and pack and lock-down and prepare for the Brit subletters and take off to Geneva. Then, there's like, dude, real working. Or, fake real working - I think the motto will be make the most of it and make your own adventure. I don't think I'll be fetching coffee, but since all the interns were in relaxed gear, I'm doubtful I'll be entrusted with the secret documents about the new statistics out from Russia on the growth of their economy. (Not that that's a secret anyway.) I know the point is more to network and meet other interesting people at other interesting organizations in hopes of making some lasting impression so I get a job in the future and pay off my family loans and the Chinese.

But yes, as AA says, one day at a time. And for now, it's 3 minutes into the day my sister arrives and I should go get some sleep. Yeah.. in college when I finished a year it was all about the party, now it's grad school and all about the sleep. Heh.

Bisous.

Paris on quick takes between surviving grad school

2008-05-27T21:00:00.000+02:00

My great friend Bridget came to visit last week, right in the middle of paper-writing hell. I am, of course, again, right in the middle of paper-writing hell. But she was kind enough and smart enough and loves Paris enough to tour around on her own during the days while I had meetings or last classes or finished my 10-pager on Globalization (actually ended up being 16 without the bibliography). Then, I put things down and got my groove on. We had such a fantastic time. Walked for hours and then hours more. I'll detail more later. ... of course, this post is not about Paris because when I am in Paris I have no time to write posts, but when I am in paper hell I make time to procrastinate and write posts about this.

I hope this will all change a) between my trip to Italy with my bad ass sister and taking off to Geneva in June and b) when I'm in Geneva trying to find the cheapest cheap things to do. Then, I will write like mad and maybe get a book out yet.

Anyway. Right now, I have hated the U.S.-Colombia Trade Agreement, hated Cuba AGAIN since we had to turn our awesome powerpoint into a paper, and now am hating everything about the The Fed and why it is been given more oversight and why the SEC and CFTC will be merged. [Debating which question will be answered: What has been the effect of the subprime crisis on the principal-agent relationship between the US government, the Federal Reserve System, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), and the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). --OR-- How did the existing delegation arrangements among the U.S. government and the independent regulatory agencies, specifically The Fed, the SEC, and CFTC, affect the responses to the subprime crisis? Why did the arrangements create that response?] Also, I am hating graphs and equations and word problems - all on my final exam in Microecon tomorrow.

So, anyway... This is a nice break and good to know:

"Surviving the first year: a positive attitude, strong commitment, and lots of coffee." Although it comes from "How to survive your first year of graduate school
in economics" by Matthew Pearson it's appropriate for any grad school degree. Wonderful things like:

--No matter what you like about economics, I can guarantee that you will spend a fair bit of time your first year studying material that you do not like. Statements like, “this is not what I came here to study,” or, “this is not why I like economics,” or even, “this stuff is not economics at all,” are heard from time to time.

--It is quite common to feel like you are the only one not understanding the material, even when your colleagues impress upon you that their difficulties are significant as well. If you are struggling with feelings that you are an impostor, that you do not deserve or are not prepared enough to be here, remember that the admissions process
works, and you are here for a reason. .... Often these feelings come from fear of success as much as fear of failure.

--Wanting to give up: This is so common that it is often a running joke among
first-years. Resist these feelings. You have to want the Ph.D. more than life itself,
and willing to nearly kill yourself to get it. The first year is about learning that
survival is not all about intelligence, nor passion, but commitment. Unless you’re
Goedel or something, then of course, this’ll seem like math for idiots. But if
you’re a mere mortal from the humanities, you’re going to end up like those kids
on Real Genius screaming and going nuts. Watch Real Genius, actually. That
movie is, emotionally, kind of the right movie that you may relate to.

This is where I stopped and wanted to buy and watch Real Genius. I remember loving this film as a kid. Not even for the fact that Val Kilmer was the hot kid on campus who didn't care about studying. But because I could relate somehow, with only being in 6th grade. It was the idea that LIFE in general could be so high pressured that people would run down the hall screaming, that one had to balance this with a sense of humor and a bit of strangeness. Granted, my life at age 12 wasn't so high stressed, but I could tell I was supposed to internalize this for my future sanity. It was hilarious and mysterious and funny and liberating. And of course, there was a good guy who beat the bad guy and got the girl - "American optimism," my Microecon prof called it recently.

Speaking of, enough procrastinating. Back to the numbers and graphs and blah blah.

I'll be done with the final exam tomorrow and will write my heart out on the Fed paper. A few Madison friends come to town on Thursday, including an ex-colleague Jennie, an ex-boyfriend Paul and his girlfriend Melissa. They've been relaxing in the south of France so I'm excited to hear their stories. I hope to be totally done with this paper by next Sunday AT THE LATEST. Monday at 7am my sister arrives in Paris. Tuesday we fly to Venice, rent a car and tool over to Cinque Terre, Florence, and whatever strikes our fancy. Then, I fly back, attend the 2nd years graduation ceremony, with the President of Brazil as the key speaker. Hang out and sleep for a week and then pack a bag and move over to Geneva for 2.5 months. ... Man, where has the time gone!?!?!?

.. Ok, now I really mean it. Enough procrastinating...

Look inside my grocery bag

2008-05-19T10:43:00.005+02:00

We're an incredibly dumbed-down country, the USA.

The issue is serious, but it's hilarious when US Under Secretary for Commerce, Chris Padilla does Free Trade Agreements for Dummies. Take a look here.

Addendum: It's not as easy as he makes it look. There are many more factors involved in the consideration of the US-Colombia Agreement. And, no, by "dummies" I don't mean Democrats or Hilary or Obama. Wait to read my paper, thank you. (Due to the prof this Friday at noon - not sure when we get it back.)

I'm as old as Jesus was

2008-05-15T01:20:00.001+02:00

As I told my friend Andy, as the birthdays get older, I feel more content with each and every day of my life.

Deep thoughts by Jack Handey.

No, really.
It's pouring rain right now after weeks of southern Georgia sunshine. I was ready to install a rocking chair on the balcony, buy a jug of sketchy homemade booze, and pluck one of the randomly weird wheat shafts growing in the flowerpots. "Damn kids today.. where's my shotgun?"

Maybe the sunshine got me.

Or, maybe it's insanity from school. I know, I know, "what about Paris?!?!?" Well, oui oui Paree really has nothing to do with Paris - it's a backdrop to my masochistic lifestyle in grad school. And, what a pretty backdrop. I have so much catching up to do. My good friend Dave and his wife Lisa and his parents visited. Dave and Lisa live in Edinburgh so their hop over wasn't as trying as their parents - although they'd beg to differ after the bad hotel shuttle encounter. Anyway, they were all in town - oh my - a month ago (why does it feel like just yesterday?). We had a lovely tour around Paris, discovered new places, made it last minute to others, and grinned and beared it quite well with bad directions and wild meandering. I'm working on the photos.

My French colleague had her baby, Madeleine. Interesting stories about giving birth in Paris and how they have excellent post-care nurses (in 2 regards: bad nurses the days after; good nurses the week after). Madeline has a huge head of dark hair like her dad and a wrinkly forehead like her mom. Again, photos coming soon.

Ok, total spoiler but I scored an apartment in Geneva for the summer from an exiting intern I met at the UN. ("at the UN" - that's so cool to say) Now, I'm in the negotiation phase with a young grad school couple who want to be in Paris for a couple of months over summer. It's so precarious this whole internet anonymity game. Can you be trustworthy? Can you be honest? It's almost like some absurd love relationship - take 1 step forward, 2 steps back, etc..

Yes, well, it was my birthday and thank you to ALL for their lovely wishes. Very sweet, indeed. ... I have an exceptional life and am very fortunate to be able to have Paris raindrops as a backdrop with an encouraging and loving family supporting me and ... what's that weird smell coming through the walls? I think this half of my apartment is just above or next to a bathroom. Delightful.

What have I done and who do I thank

2008-05-08T12:25:00.002+02:00

1) Thank the Chinese.
Global Imbalance:
My dad wrote, "Is this at all good news???" First, it's strange, delightful, and very cool that my dad is asking me questions. He's always known more than me - and he will always know more about all things scientific or mathematical, and probably financial - so for him to ask me about something makes me very proud. (Not that he's never asked, mind you. I'm also very lucky to have parents who teach me and simultaneously acknowledge that they've learned from me.) Anyway. After a month of reading and many, many, many group meetings I think I have some substantial input on this question. Granted, if I wanted to have real input I'd have to go for a PhD in econ.

Here's what I wrote back:
"Good and bad. ... you're 1 day late on this link though - I gave my presentation y'day. ;) We've got a shared docs folder for each of our class presentations so I've saved this article there. Thanks for sharing!

It's a very long explanation which I'm going to attempt to write about on the blog. Essentially the USD needs to depreciate because of the drastic global imbalance between US and several other surplus countries (esp China - hence our push that they appreciate the Yuan and have better, more flexible money market), but this depreciation will hurt us adn the world because of a catch 22: USD is world currency and the most invested market. So, our $ goes down, our exports go up (we make money for our "store" called USA), our consumption goes down (we can't buy as much with our weak dollar), China's imports to us go down, we shrink our deficit, they shrink their surplus. But this also means that stocks, Treasury bills (that the chinese purchase with money from selling their exports to us) lose value which means their investment starts to mean less, which means people will move their money to another market - Euro? This means, we lose jobs in the US, lose production, lose the reign of world currency. And that's only a small portion of it. A lot of our deficit is owed to oil imports because it's an inelastic good - the price might go up but our consumption remains the same. Also, China's culture of saving (leftover from the Asian crisis & history of instability) means they won't consume our products as much = they aren't spending down their huge surplus. Also, our culture of spending/consuming since the Great Depression. We were starting to save as a country between 40s-80's but then hit the tech boom/production boom/investment boom and started spending more than saving, relying on credit more (I factor in here!). Who's carrying our credit addiction? The Chinese, the Asians, the oil barrons. And the great fear is that at some point our market is going to tank from partying hard for so long. When that happens it could be disastrous to the world who has invested in our markets - domino effect. So, we need to devalue the dollar a bit, we need to save more (yes yes what you've been saying ALL my life; Addendum: "You Can't Take It With You"), the gov't needs to tax us more, it needs to stop spending so much (twin deficits = foreign trade & budget!), we need to tighten our belts. And those countries who've been gluttonous in saving need to go on a shopping spree a bit.

So... i can write that now after about a month of reading and group meetings. i'm going to tally up my hours spent on this subject because it's insane how much i read just to understand global imbalance, current account balances in general and then to understand the US's position on how to address it. Man! the group meetings were interesting, too. 2 Indians, 1 Iranian, 1 USA, 1 China. Very interesting interactions, dynamics and learning."

[No additional editing has been done to the above. I'm sure it needs some but I've moved on from global imbalances. If you have questions, please feel free to direct them to me.]

1a) My memo to Shell in 1995 concerning their options in addressing a possible crisis in Nigeria.

1b) In our Scenario Planning class, we look at the future of Cuba. You can view our slide presentation here. (Guess who did the layout? Photos are from a million people/places all over the 'net. Hope I don't get sued. If you have the Mambo Kings album, the sound might work for you, as well. Or, just imagine "Guantanamera" for the first 4 slides. "Yo soy un hombre sincero / De donde crecen las palmas / Yo soy un hombre sincero / De donde crecen las palmas / Y antes de morirme quiero / Echar mis versos del alma / Chorus: Guantanamera / Guajira Guantanamera)

1c) An interesting article on the Sciences Po MPA in Le Monde (French) here. Quoted are two of my classmates, Sean who is West Point grad and retired early after being in Iraq for a while, and Preeti who is a lawyer from India.

2) My trip to Geneva was awesome. Ditched out of class a bit early to make it to Gare de Lyon. Of course, the metro all of a sudden had problems at Concorde, which sent a bit of panic through me. But thanks to my years of second-hand military training, I had given myself enough time in case of emergency. Luckily, the problem was fixed and we carried on to the station. At GDL I got my e-ticket from the machine and eying the long line at the Info booth, asked a woman if she knew where I'd get the TGV schedule to Geneva. Another testimony to the incorrect assumption that French are rude or unhelpful, she pointed out the big board in front of my face (without ridicule) and said that 20 minutes before departure, the gate would be available but that they either left from this large platform or another one across the way. Twenty minutes is not a lot of time between realization and finding one's seat, ahem. Thankfully, my train left from the main platform.

Sat next to a guy reading "Sur la Route." Yes, exactly, "On the Road" by Kerouac. Very good sign for me. I started to do some reading in preparation for the up-coming group presentation on Global Imbalances (see above, or see this PPT here; appendix is here). But then, the guy sitting next to me asked if I worked in Geneva and we began a really nice conversation. He works in GIS mapping and spoke s much English as I do of French. I learned that what I thought was mustard between London and Paris on the Eurostar is actually colza (used as an oil or biodiesel).

The older woman sitting across the aisle from us also chatted me up after my seat companion debarked. She's the wife of a retired career UN guy, with an apartment a few blocks away from me in Montmartre. She gave me her number in case I ever needed anything in Geneva. Totally nice.

Got to town. Bought a croissant in the train station just to absorb everything. I had time and it was still daylight and was drizzling a bit. Located the automatic bus fare machines and found #5 easily to head off to Home Saint Pierre, the Lutheran hostel for girls and women. (Normally I don't gravitate to sex-separation for my activities or accommodations, but this was the cheapest and most available at 28chf, which is roughly $1=1chf.) I thought Paris was pretty international - although I tend to hear more French, English, Russian, German, and then other Nordic languages and then other EU languages - but Geneva, of course, in its internationalism, I hear more of everything and then more of languages I've never heard before. I felt at home in this soupy mix.

I got off the bus at Place Neuve where men were playing giant chess in the drizzle. This is the old town of Geneva, all the way up the hill. Cobblestones like Paris. Old walls, old façades. I got a bit lost and asked a Latino-looking guy if he knew where the church St Pierre would be. He didn't, but answered me very nicely in French. I called the hostel and the very German sounding woman told me how to get there. I took a left and down stairs instead of a straight and right. Anyway. Found the place, checked in (her warmth left a little to be desired but I'm not young, nor am I afraid of new places), and went over to the dormitory for my bed. It feels a bit more lonely to have just a bed, like it's barracks or something. But I chatted up the young women there and discovered that one of them was from Paris, Sciences Po doing research for her thesis.

Went off to look for dinner possibilities and ran into the Latino (Peruvian) guy from before. He and I exchanged emails and he pointed me to a nearby Italian restaurant, at which I was served yummy pizza and Swiss wine (not as yummy) by a Portuguese server who spoke Spanish, English, French, and Portugal Portuguese (she slightly scoffed clarification when I asked if it was Brazil or Portugal). Got to bed rather early and got up rather early. After all, I was going to the HOLY %&$# United Nations!!!!

Check-out was at 10am so I packed everything and took the 7chf breakfast at the hostel, left the luggage, hiked down the hill, found the same #5 bus, passed the train station, passed UN Concil on Human Rights (wow), stopped at the official Palais des Nations entrance (where the photos of all the flags lined up are taken), hiked quickly up the hill to the other entrance. Through x-ray check and to security to check-in. Some kind of delay with checking and emails and if they knew before and had he sent the notice. Meanwhile, this nice woman who kind of helped me know I was in the right line at the right entrance was rolling her eyes and being a bit too overly critical and impatient of the process for my liking. But my future boss came down to meet me, I got the ugly photo pass (worse than a driver's license), and he walked me over to the UNECE and our floor.

He gave me the grand tour and by that I mean I got to meet the woman with whom I'd be working quite a bit, as well as the chief of the department. I'm walking a fine line in my blog between what I can/should share and what I know would be inappropriate. So, nah nah boo boo you don't get all the insider scoop on the UN. Suffice it to say the building still reflects the time period when it was built and offices are rather bare, bland, and unlively. Of course, consider also the amount of official business that is conducted in each and I guess one can't have a big dart board next to one's desk.

I met with the intern coordinator, who happens to be from Minnesota and graduate of University of Wisconsin. And then met all the interns who were around at the time. Very nice folks all of them. Very comfortable and very funny. Me, dressed in my nice suit pants, kitten heels, blue blouse, and pearls all thinking, oo the UN better dress nicely. The interns, all dressed in jeans and tee-shirt or definitely summer wear. They told me it usually took an intern an average of a week to ditch the business wear for the casuals. I think I'd like to keep a step up on the jeans wear though - just because of my age, my interests in future jobs, and to be kind of in the 'real world' despite my laziness and love of everything comfortable and easy.

The interns are, of course, from all over the world but most seem to be hailing from Europe and then more concentrated in the Eastern block. The unique thing about the UNECE is its focus on Russia and the Eastern countries to I guess that's why the predominance of interns from those regions - translation is a big activity for them. Interns from all departments are located in this area on the Stats Division floor since I guess they have the most empty offices. I sat with and talked to a young woman from Germany who works in the Environmental Policy division. Just so happened she mentioned that she had a great roommate in the old part of town and that she'd be ending her internship in May and leaving and maybe I'd be interested in talking to her roommate about the flat. She warned me that the place wasn't new and had a 5th floor walk up (ha! mine in Paris is 6) and the roommate is creative and so is the place. It sounded perfect to me as she described it. Just so happened the roommate was free at 3pm to meet me.

Next, I sat with the social coordinator intern, from Latvia. She'd been at the UNECE for a while and was coordinating outings, happy hours, etc for all the interns to bond.

I went back to my future boss as it was noon, and we headed to the cafeteria of the world.

..... it's bedtime for me now.. I'll finish this tomorrow. School's kind of winding down. May means 3 papers, a French exam, an Econ exam and then also visits from friends all over the world. The weather has been amazing here lately, with highs in the upper 70s and a lovely breeze. The metro is starting to feel heavy in air so I'm preferring the bus. Pants are folded for shorts and skirts. Skin can breathe again. Parisians seem happier. I'm super excited for this month but also a bit wary of how to balance it all. C'est la vie.

Oh, and if you're interested in hopping on the export/import train, my birthday's the 13th. There are two links upper right side that point to fun things on Amazon that I like. I'd be happy to ship you anything you request from Europe.

No, I've not gone unconscious

2008-04-27T09:34:00.000+02:00

But this semester is big 'n busy.

Paris has suddenly warmed from the 50s to 70s over the past 4 days. I broke out the skirts and shorts and my white skin is blinding people all over town.

I worked 7 hours yesterday with my International Econ group on "Global Imbalances" which scholars have written 100-page analysis on. We've got 35 slides. My section is on the US - I've seen 50-page papers on it; my slides are 7. Essentially, it's a US twin deficit (budget and current account) to a group of world surpluses, especially China. The US needs to stop needing needing wanting wanting, and start saving. China needs to start buying, spending some hard earned cashola. But there are other factors, of course. Interesting though, my group represents China, India, Iran, and the US. There is hope for the world yet, people. I gotta tell you though, with the $ being the world's financial currency and us owing a lot of big boys on the block, the subprime crisis doesn't make anyone feel very secure.

Today, I'm off to the massive student housing area called Cite Universite. Another 6 hour group meeting. This one features the US, Canada, and China wondering what the future of Cuba could be.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Geneva in the afternoon. I'm taking the train and am super excited to see some landscape. The first half of Tuesday I'll be at the UNECE doing the tour, meeting the folks, sitting in on a meeting, getting a feel for the place. This isn't necessary for the internship and I already had dinner with my future boss while he was in town for a conference. And frankly my schedule right now can't really take the quick trip, but I'm interested in seeing Geneva before I head off in June. It might also give me an opportunity to check out housing better. It's hell via the internet so far. Tuesday night I train it back to Paris. Wednesday I give my meager understanding of the US deficit and hope I look confident enough to fool everyone. Thursday is a holiday here, during which I will sleep, and not plan anything else.

I was here a year ago with my sister, checking out a school in London and Paris. I totally made the right decision. When a couple of friends were in town last weekend, we coincidentally had lunch at a cafe over by the Louvre where my sister and I had a coffee. It's funny, through visiting my friends, I ended up in almost every spot where my sister and I had been during our visit a year ago. I think that's fate/gods/karma/good juju letting me know everything's on track. I am doing what I'm supposed to do. This is where I should be.

So, maybe I'm more conscious than ever right now.

My life is not that bad

2008-04-18T00:37:00.000+02:00

Even though my taxes are a bit late, the bags under my eyes have unpacked and bought property, I see the inside of 224 Saint German more than I see sunlight, my laptop screen knows more about me than any human being, I'm one more problem to the trade deficit and global imbalance and probably helping to cause more drastic poverty, I miss my family and my friends back home have moved on, I can't find a summer residence, sushi in Paris isn't great, and I can't make world peace....

at least I'm not this guy.

this hurts

2008-04-10T13:21:00.001+02:00

owie.

big, big owie.

please please someone stop the madness!!!

All things French

2008-04-06T22:14:00.000+02:00

Mais, non, c'est les PIRATES!!

French navy trails yacht seized by pirates
Sun Apr 6

The French navy continued to trail a luxury yacht off the Somali coast on Sunday, two days after pirates stormed the boat and took its 30 crew hostage, French Defense Minister Herve Morin said.

"We are still in this phase of the pirates carrying on sailing with us following them at a distance," Morin told Europe 1 radio, adding that he expected the hijackers would eventually make land somewhere in Somalia.

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On Craigslist:

(PARIS) — Pirates seized control of a French cruise ship Friday off the coast of Somalia, France's Foreign Ministry said. The all-French crew surrendered immediately and evacuated the vessel in keeping with French military tradition. Admiral Pierre LeMiniWee is quoted as saying "The pirates looked so angry..and they shouted a lot. What else could we do?"

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Ikea and Castorama fined for being open Sunday

Ikea was ordered to pay more than $700,000 last week for staying open on Sundays in a Paris suburb. A big French home repair chain was sued for nearly as much — also for violating a 102-year-old requirement to shut up shop on Sunday.

Both cases show that the stakes are mounting in a long-running battle between French unions and retailers over shopping on the seventh day.

The government of President Nicolas Sarkozy, encouraged by major companies, is trying to shed old restrictions as part of broader plans to loosen up the French economy.

Advocates of the 1906 law, determined to prevent its demise, are digging in and demanding ever-higher fines against violators of a rule they say upholds a less spending-obsessed French way of life.

"Working on Sundays calls into question the very foundation of society," said lawyer Vincent Lecourt, who represents the Workers Force union. "It is a day when we try to consume less ... when we try to have values that are a little different."

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

And I thought France was a staunch supporter of separation of church & state. I can't wait for shopping on Sundays - bring it, capitalist pigs! I need to go grocery shopping!!!

Always been a B student

2008-04-03T12:28:00.000+02:00

Well, grades are in. This means that I now feel confident enough to share with you some of my work this past semester.

A bit of translation, which isn't encouraging in my mind.
No one gets an A+
No one should get a B-

A = Outstanding, 4.0
A- = Excellent 3.7
B+ = Very good 3.3
B = Good 3.0
B- = Pass, but with some unsatisfactory elements 2.7
the rest we won't go into, although it does continue to F.

Situating Ourselves in Complex Settings: A-
Stats: A
Governance State Restructring and Policy Change: A
MicroEcon: B+
Global Governance: Regulation, Adjudication, Dispute Settlement: A-
Managing Innovation in the Globalizing Learning Economy: B+
Total: A-

French, well, French is an optional course and of course, I'm treating it a bit as such -- how does a teacher grade my incredible skills in the ordering of "Les Petits Farçis Du Moment Au Coulis De Persil" or the frequent times I'm asked for (and give) directions or my perfect accent when cursing? Anyway, I got a B.

I'd say the above evaluations are pretty accurate to how I felt about the courses and how much I actually gave in effort. Although, Stats and Micro. Totally should have failed those in my opinion, but then again one can't take a test on "how much knowledge has increased from zero to now?" Although that's what exams and papers are supposed to do, they can't really do that very well for such a steep curve. Or, perhaps the grades above reflect that. I don't know.

I'm really not a very verbal person in large, professional groups so I'm sure I was deducted for low class participation. That's changed a little bit this semester. I figure that if the Asians are asking questions (who are known for traditionally not speaking out in class - it's seen as disrespectful to the professor), I should, too.

Had my one-on-one meeting with the professor for State Restructuring. Remember the paper on prostitution policies of the Netherlands and Sweden? (Aside: the Netherlands is called the Pays-Bas in French - literally the County Below : Nether Lands. Very cool.) Well, I was one of the top 3 papers of our class. Woot woot!

Finally! I needed so badly to be graded and critiqued. Hahahah... No. Really. This was the first time writing papers in over 10 years. Two of the classes involved group work, which is impossible to get actual individual analysis. And my paper for Global Governance "The Global Response to Cybercrime: Standards, Negotiation, National Procedures, and Global Security" got a one-liner of feedback along the lines of "Good work but you related it too much to only the Convention." (Secretly, looking back, I was not thrilled with this paper at all. The intro is HORRIBLE!)

But the prostitution paper, which I really got into while researching and writing it, got good marks from the professor and he recommended I publish it in a journal. Hence, you will not be reading it online yet as I'm sure there are some copyright conflicts on that. The 3 of us who were encouraged to publish will be meeting together to see how we can work with the administration to achieve this. Seriously, with the workload I've got right now there's just no way to do it 'on the side.'

My colleague, Gerrit, published our innovation paper. Sadly, this does not incorporate your individual responses to our survey. In the time allotted we were able to focus only on our colleagues at the other schools within our Global Public Policy Network (Columbia U, LSE, Hertie, LKY, Sciences Po). You can check out the final product here (minus the graphs in our survey results, which you don't care about anyway because I wrote the theoretical framework). Alternatively, you can go over to Gerrit's personal website and download the whole thing - and see my fab pal, too!

You can also check out "The Global Response to Cybercrime" paper here

So, on to bigger and better things!

Papers, papiers, travaille

2008-03-30T03:02:00.000+02:00

It's busy right now.
3,000 word paper due Monday for Governing by Delegation and I picked "Why have politicians throughout the world chosen to create independent regulatory agencies?" Why can't I just summarize: enhancing the credible commitments of policy makers (notably towards investors who seek long-term policies), dealing with increased technical complexity in policy-making, shifting blame for unpopular decisions, isomorphism, political uncertainty, state tradition, political leadership, and the introduction of new public management. And then be done! Alas, school - as I'd forgotten - is about proving that you've listened to the professor instead of updated your Facebook page every 10 minutes.

Microecon homework on equity standards and intergovernmental grant applications.

French - write a 1-page essay on something that happened last year (to show off that we learned past tenses): Sarkozy as president and not supporting the idea of Turkey as joining the EU.

Why do I challenge myself? Why not just write short and simple essays. Pick the easy work. Sigh.

Then, we move into Int'l Economics about the Mundell Fleming model and exchange rates -- flexible exchange rates and mobile capital (or their opposites). As well as a group project on global imbalances. Scenario Planning and looking at possible futures for Cuba. Conflict Management - might analyze the negotiations to end the civil unrest in Kenya (with Kofi Annan). But not sure. (If you have suggestions, pleas send my way!) Then, I'm starting a whole new class on Globalization this coming week. As if I don't have enough to do! Also, steadily pushing the planning for the fall Global Public Policy Network Student Conference, which will take place in Paris.

Still keeping an eye out for housing in Geneva for the internship at the UNECE this summer. Locked-in the dates folks, so I'm out of town 16 June to 8 September (just short of the 3 months deadline so I won't need a special visa). I'm meeting my future boss in Paris in a couple of weeks as he's here to do a conference at the OECD. (Who knew I'd be throwing these acronyms around like oh so casual conversation?)

Had a great visit with my pal Meghan and her boyfriend Mike from San Fran. Very low-key friends who ventured around on their own and then shared some time with me. We had an interesting couple of dinners and did a bit of the literary walk through the Latin Quarter (following Ginsberg, Hemingway, and the like), chilled at the Deux Magots, took a boat on the Seine, ate gelato for the first time, and got to know the St Michel district better. It was great to see them and hard to see them go. But oh, the new things in Paris I did!

Walked a bit around my neighborhood a couple of days ago and fell in love with Paris again. Just after the rain stopped, a stormy turbulent sky with bright blues behind the clouds, sun peeking out, streets shining, windows dripping, the warmer air. Delightful in Montmartre.

Also, joined my friends Wilfried and Sarah last weekend to march for prostitutes' rights. We thought Susie Bright might join us since she was in town but she missed the march due to delayed arrival to Paris. Bummer! But the march was absolutely excellent, and I thoroughly loved meeting the Les Soeurs de la Perpetuelle Indulgence (of which Sarah belongs - 4th woman aspirant to go through the process; San Francisco/English).

But now I'm hunkered down for the long haul. Daylight savings just turned over to 3am here. Got to get some sleep.

There are a lot more photos up on Flickr:
more India: Taj Mahal, Agra and Agra Fort, Delhi to Agra
and from 2007: visit with Josh, Cully & the Triumph in Minneapolis, sushi with my sister, Emily & Mike in Minneapolis, the family farm and grandma

Why I Love My Family

2008-03-17T23:14:00.000+01:00

Mom wrote:

While plundering about on e-bay today, found a truly remarkable recipe book - "Rabbit on a Shovel" BBQ book - from yes, indeed, the Land DownUnder. Should we order a family book which could be passed around and recipes copied as we saw fit for whatever tools or small game we have available at the time?

Thought you all should be aware of our fine techniques and the possibility that you too could own this book.

Love Mum, ABJ

Lauren's Sister wrote:

a family book would be tons of fun. then maybe [boy cousin in town] and I can host a family gathering out here. We could rig some sort of odd contraption in a backyard and cook some of the bunnies from my neighborhood.

Lauren had to pipe in:

Ok, I haven't been out of the country THAT long.. I'm still vegetarian, mum. ;) Bunny on a stick? What was that?! What about shrubs on the simmer? ... I swear.. I'm neither Aussie nor Norweigi-Welsh. Are you sure I wasn't adopted after all?

.... I would LOVE to see this remarkable book. Might come in handy on this student's (non)salary and all the rats running around Paris.

>lauren wrote (to her dad):
>I don't have to request a ballot right? not for [the april elections] b/c i already put in a request for all of them thisyear?
>
> thx!

On Monday, A Couple Hours Later, Dad wrote:

Just spoke with a deputy clerk at city hall who said that the ballot went out Thurs or Fri. Since they only just got them from the printers on Wed. that is about as quickly as they could. She remembered sending the one to Paris, and wished they had asked for a courier. I would expect that you will have very little time to turn it around. It must arrive here by Tues Apr 1 to be counted. Me, I just drive over to the Armory and stand in line for half an hour. But then, I don't get to have French wine, cheese, and bread for my next meal after that. Always a trade off.

Dad

Lauren replied immediately:

Always a trade off, indeed. Then again, I need the wine to get the anxiety down about having no real money to pay for the cheese and bread. So, which is better? Hmmm.. ;) (I am trying to remember to enjoy it.) ... so, then, prepare me for the ballot? Who am I voting for? Really. I'm not kidding. Which race is this b/c right now I'm overwhelmed studying the National Lottery Commission of UK to learn about independent regulatory agencies, looking at possible political scenarios related to Cuba, learning Passé Composé and Imparfait (thank god for Spanish!), trying to understand monetary versus fiscal policy (exchange rates, subprime crisis, all things macro), the utility of food stamps versus cash transfers, and studying the technique of bargaining in conflict management -- while trying to find an apartment in Geneva.

... right. ...

who am I again? ;)

Thanks for checking on the ballot, dad!!! xoxoxoxoxoxo

And, earlier my lovely cousin on the east coast sent photos of their new family with the new baby girl. Ahhh, I'm excited to meet the new kids and see my cousins again.

Always there in times of need - even if they don't know it. Gotta love 'em.

March comes in like a lion

2008-03-14T10:18:00.000+01:00

Weather:
I thought the roof of my building was going to fly off the other night. That fear was followed by wondering if the sheets of speedy rain were going to break the skylight and drown me as if I were in a fishbowl. Luckily, neither happened.

I guess winter has come and gone. I certainly didn't notice it very much. I might very well take my 4 pairs of long-john pants and 6 long-john tops down to the railroad tracks and burn them in a long overdue thank you to the gods. If you know anyone of medium womanly build who might like some cuddle duds, let me know, as we're starting to have 39F-53F degree days now. Gone are are the 30F-43F, with only one half-hour of rina that looked like snow and sleet. I hear there are flowers blooming in the countryside under the grey skies. With spring break next week I'm tempted to take a jaunt out of town just to see.

.....

India:
in other news: I've started adding the India photos. I've got 2000 in total so it's a slow process. Slightly impatient, I decided to do the editing and uploading while forgoing the titling. That will have to come later - or in stages. So, if you're so inclined to see some of New Delhi, it is slowly showing itself at 616 photos.

.....

Back home:
I/We made a law. I've never made a law before. I hope it's worthy of being on the books and that forty years from now, children aren't reading about the policy failure of Compassionate Care for Rape Victims. Although, I do hope they're reading about "back in the day when this kind of legislation was necessary.."

I wasn't able to be there for the Governor's signing of it into law, but I could feel it over here. A huge sigh of relief. An excitement for future women seeking equality and justice. And, hopefully, just the right amount of pat-on-the-back to help my colleagues to keep fighting the good fight.

People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.
When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

I am so lucky to have been able to work and live with some amazing people during the CCRV effort.

news article
video of signing (Highlights: Rep. Musser - Republican, says "Don't tell my caucus." and gets a laugh. Survivors: Linda, Amanda. Being able to see all my colleagues through the lens - Sara's LONG hair. And Governor Doyle, who even though he can't pronounce "contraception" very well is still a total champion for women's rights.)

......

School:
I'm going to try to write 3,000 words this weekend. Not randomly, but perhaps stringed together under the frame of privatization or perhaps independent regulatory agencies. Yesterday, our professor for international economics told us we have a lighter workload than our colleagues at other schools and that during his first year of school he lost 15 kilos and his mom told him he wasn't going back (he's Italian and damn good looking, so I imagine he lost a bunch of pasta weight). His comment was kind of harsh and a little uncalled for, but I do love his course. It's just that 3 problem sets (the first of which took me 10 hours total), 1 midterm, 1 group presentation, 4 weekly bibliographies (complementing our course pack readings) seems a bit excessive when considering the totality of the work load. I don't mean to complain or whine, and it's not that I don't want to be challenged. I just want to have the opportunity to do my work well and not half-assed-hoping.

I've heard that the first year of grad school is the worst. But there are only two of them! I'd rather like to have a few more after this one just to balance things out.

Maybe I'm not up to par. I often feel like I'm falling behind, struggling to hear and internalize every word, treading water, barely getting it at all. And then when it comes time to regurgitate or reformulate, I hope I can discover something new. But I gave that up last semester when I realized I'm not in the research field, I will not be discovering new ideas, I will not be publishing right now. So, I am content to try to understand and demonstrate my comprehension. Bor-ing. But oh well.

So, I'm looking at Spring Break next week Thursday for 6 days. It would be a delight to go somewhere for a few days. If I get this 3,000 word paper out, I will let myself leave the city and be alone. Now, to think of a short 2.5 day trip. Please feel free to send your suggestions!

New

2008-03-04T22:50:00.002+01:00

New videos from the Josh and Sarah visit, including "adult cheese snack time."
New photos from their trip, too. (I'm like a month behind in everything)
New cousin added to my family!
New sight today: snow/sleet in Paris! For about 2 hours it was off-on. No collection on the ground.
New feelings: Overwhelmed again. I accepted the internship to UNECE in Geneva so I'm re-locating (and all that entails: subletting mine, finding one in Geneva, completing paperwork, visa apps, money considerations) while still going to school (8 courses with 4 group works right now - kill me please) and trying to have a life (heading to Edinburgh this weekend to see various friends)
New trip: Edinburgh
New realization: (old) I am overwhelmed in Paris. I have nothing to complain about.
New fears: what's going on in the rest of the world outside this bubble.
New understanding: what comes around goes around and there's nothing new that goes around anymore - it's just recycled and all interpreted how we'd like to interpret it, there is no truth, there only is now.
New to the blog: the sidebars on the right include import requests and new blog finds.

Who says the French aren't nice?

2008-02-26T19:12:00.000+01:00

The other day, after returning from India:

I stopped in to the cave à vin (wine cellar, aka "cave") to see my wine guy. We chatted and he was delivered 2 slices of pizza from next door for his dinner. Just making conversation I said I aime'd pizza and he packed up a slice for me along with my bottle of wine.

Across the street I visited with my boulangerie lady and didn't realize a line had formed behind me. I was scrambling to pay with coins for my 90c baguette and was short 10c when the 12-year-old boy behind me said, (essentially) "I have 10c for the lady."

The bus drivers say bonjour and bonsoir.

The Monoprix lady wants so badly to give me a plastic bag for my items that she's slightly insulted when I tell her I have my own bag.

My friends Wilfried and Sarah offer to swing by tomorrow when they're in the neighborhood since I'm sick.

And the other day I went to the Madeleine metro to go to Les Trois Quartiers, picked up the sleeping bag, and went back down to catch the metro home. And you never know what you'll find:

An accident on the line causing the metro to be delayed. A line of several people deep:

Turn around to go back up to catch the bus and

the escalators are broken...

But, in the spirit of unity, a nice woman stopped to help an older lady get up the stairs

Speak cryptically from now on

2008-02-25T21:49:00.002+01:00

We interrupt the Paris, India, all things foreign to comment on the USA.

1) Does he sound more Texan than ever? Oh, right, you all in the USA are inundated daily with news about him and what he's said, done. That is, if you're not overwhelmed with election debates and finger wagging.
2) Does he even have any idea what he's saying?
3) How long does it take the speech writer to drill talking points into him before he goes before an audience?
4) Why is he still in office?
5) And what the hell is he trying to convince us of?

Bush pushes Congress to pass Surveillance Law - see it here -

and then continue it here

I remember when the Great Search Engines of the USA gave up private information about users' searching statistics (including IP addresses, I think). And I remember when the Government demanded phone records from the Great Phone Companies. Very few refused. So, now, the Government wants to block citizens from recovering damages for this illegal surveillance? Hm. I'm not shocked, but I'm scared. Remember the story of the frog and the pot of water? Put the froggy in and slowly turn up the heat and he won't realize he's about to become cuisses de grenouille. But try to drop a froggy into a pot of boiling water and he'll jump out. If Americans are repeatedly awash with crisis, fear, worry, threat, killing, war - it starts to feel normal. And while we might think we're doing something so good by participating in a new election ... will 9 months be too long? Will it be too late? Can we undo some of the knots we've gotten tied into?

I went to Feingold for his response. He's the trusted lawyer turned US Senator from Wisconsin. Too bad he couldn't carry the Presidential bid - I'd drop everything to get him elected.

I don't know about this form of government. How big is the machine? How deep does its roots extend? How far is its reach? I can tell you that there's not one of my colleagues in school who doesn't know that the USA's time in the globe is coming to a close. We're all wondering who polices the police. And we're watching the Group of 77 grow stronger and stronger militarily and economically. So, if the big shot can't play on the playground, where else to turn but to the homeland?

Happy to be in Paris today.

the different meanings of life insurance

2008-02-19T22:49:00.000+01:00

Walking in downtown Mumbai, India. Life flashing before my eyes with the fast-moving, closely crowded traffic. Viewing the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (formerly, Victoria Terminus). Some kids gravitated to us and were fascinated when I flipped my digicam's viewing window toward them as I flimed. We don't give money to them. It doesn't solve the problem.

I'm still processing the trip to India. On one level I was seeing India for the first time, a truly unique country with the most people on the planet living there. "Don't try to understand India. Experience India." (Lonely Planet quoted by the HR Director of Infosys) Then, on another level we were 35 of us together for 10 days. Social dynamics. Interactions. Conflicts and rejoicing.

But we have already started second semester classes (check my schedule and the Sciences Po website to see what I'm taking if you're interested - so far I love "Scenario Planning" and am auditing the interesting "Interest Groups" course). I heard back from the UNECE about an internship. It's in Geneva and I know very little about Geneva. It's an incredible opportunity since getting in to the UN of anything is near impossible on the internship level. I'd be assisting the Statistics department with educational marketing of their services and assisting in the implementation of some new applications. It's not a highly managerial position or a strictly public policy position. But it's the UN!! And, I'd have the opportunity to attend joint meetings (with UNFPA, OECD - just a couple of this spring's meetings) and network. So with all of this, my processing of the trip goes in spurts when I find time to reflect.

I was most happy to be back in Paris. It smells like roses, the driving is like a river flowing, and I am happy.

I hope everyone in Wisconsin has voted. I know they got mine.