Ok kids, we all saw the superbowl, and we are all full of glee that Chicago got stomped. WHy didn't Prince sing more songs? Remember that time that Chicago scored way too early and we were all worried that chicago would win? Remember that one girl who yelled so loud you wanted to throw a chicken wing at her, but you resisted?
I do.
We're allglad that emilie and I wore coordinated outfits and we're all glad that the one annoying girl with the annoying chicago accent who kept yelling at the TV screen like a banshee (the one who almost got a chicken wing in the noggin'?) ended up crying as the Bears lost like the crap team they are. Remember how you don't like Chicago, just 'cuz? I don't know about football, but I heard their quarterback's sense of direction is so off he could jump out of a boat and miss the water.
Side note!
Before the superbowl Emilie and I had dinner with the Calderos (Best Family Ever) and we sang Grease, and David Bowie with their daughter and it was awesome. Emilie impressed everyone with her mad Pink Floyd skillz. Way to know Pink Floyd emilie, but I will always beat you with my Beatles knowledge. Together we are unstoppable.
Showing posts with label emilie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emilie. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Beer pong and flip cup are more fun with foreigners
More details to come, but FYI i have not completely lost my touch on the beer pong court. Nor has Emilie, her team made it to the finals! Snaps to Jen and her apartment for keeping the American Dream alive.
We brought along Holly the English Lady, and she really tore up the beer pong circuit. It was excellent for her first time! I ended up losing, but it was close. Somewhere along the night we (and by we I mean me and Emilie) decided to put on our representin' costumes and really fight for something we believed in, like our alliegances to our respective origins, sorta. Hers being sweden, mine being StL, missouri. We both weren't born in either, but hey, i felt the love, and I wanted to share it. I also wanted a reason to wear the StL flag like a cape.
We played flip cup later to much success. Holly even joined (again her first time with the kooky semi-alcoholicness of american drinking games) and she got occasionally confused, but I'd give her a total A for effort. Caroline, my superhero of a friend, who is also french (oh snap!) stopped by later and we went to a gay - but not gay- bar where it was smoky and me and emilie wanted to just go home b/c it was torture.
Holly wandered away to a taxi sometime before this as she is known to do. SHe is tall, so we figured she'd be safe, and she was.
We were greeted by a half-blown-up air mattress and freezing air, but emilie and I managed to sleep a little and laugh a lot b/c it was just such an uncomfortable way to sleep, therefore it was hilarious.
The next day was time for hangovers, needless to say.
But that was not to stop us! Emilie's semi-boyfriend-but-not-really-at-all-like-not-at-all-he-was-just-in-love-with-her-and-whatev was in town and he was going to bring a friend and we were to dine with them. Well, I was like, not feeling all that cute and was a little wary of meeing another french boy and having to talk to him about the war in iraq so I was like, "em i hope this guy is not in the mood for love b/c I am NOT, and I'll bet he is not cute. "
Well that was poetic of me, b/c Emilie's friend's friend was probably one of the most attractive people I've seen in real life. So that was a fun dinner.
And I didn't look cute! I had glasses on, for heaven's sake. Sigh.
Later on in the evening was pretty swell, as we went to this mod lookin' lounge (where they play 60's soul music, hello I am sold) called "Voxx" to hang out with Becky from Cali and her french buddies and then went to 42, this nightclub where they played the frenchest music possible (they played "Champs Elysses, man...anyone who took french class knows that song) and I drank beer and stayed up suuuuuuuuuuper late.
We caught the bus home at around 5am. Emilie and I are too hard-core for our own good, seriously. You want to party with us...but maybe you don't b/c you might be embarrased if you are out-partied by a couple of smiley girls.
We brought along Holly the English Lady, and she really tore up the beer pong circuit. It was excellent for her first time! I ended up losing, but it was close. Somewhere along the night we (and by we I mean me and Emilie) decided to put on our representin' costumes and really fight for something we believed in, like our alliegances to our respective origins, sorta. Hers being sweden, mine being StL, missouri. We both weren't born in either, but hey, i felt the love, and I wanted to share it. I also wanted a reason to wear the StL flag like a cape.
We played flip cup later to much success. Holly even joined (again her first time with the kooky semi-alcoholicness of american drinking games) and she got occasionally confused, but I'd give her a total A for effort. Caroline, my superhero of a friend, who is also french (oh snap!) stopped by later and we went to a gay - but not gay- bar where it was smoky and me and emilie wanted to just go home b/c it was torture.
Holly wandered away to a taxi sometime before this as she is known to do. SHe is tall, so we figured she'd be safe, and she was.
We were greeted by a half-blown-up air mattress and freezing air, but emilie and I managed to sleep a little and laugh a lot b/c it was just such an uncomfortable way to sleep, therefore it was hilarious.
The next day was time for hangovers, needless to say.
But that was not to stop us! Emilie's semi-boyfriend-but-not-really-at-all-like-not-at-all-he-was-just-in-love-with-her-and-whatev was in town and he was going to bring a friend and we were to dine with them. Well, I was like, not feeling all that cute and was a little wary of meeing another french boy and having to talk to him about the war in iraq so I was like, "em i hope this guy is not in the mood for love b/c I am NOT, and I'll bet he is not cute. "
Well that was poetic of me, b/c Emilie's friend's friend was probably one of the most attractive people I've seen in real life. So that was a fun dinner.
And I didn't look cute! I had glasses on, for heaven's sake. Sigh.
Later on in the evening was pretty swell, as we went to this mod lookin' lounge (where they play 60's soul music, hello I am sold) called "Voxx" to hang out with Becky from Cali and her french buddies and then went to 42, this nightclub where they played the frenchest music possible (they played "Champs Elysses, man...anyone who took french class knows that song) and I drank beer and stayed up suuuuuuuuuuper late.
We caught the bus home at around 5am. Emilie and I are too hard-core for our own good, seriously. You want to party with us...but maybe you don't b/c you might be embarrased if you are out-partied by a couple of smiley girls.
Monday, January 08, 2007
There’s no Canada like French Canada
Thanks to Emilie, my south park ambassador, I now have the south park episode, Christmas In Canada, on my computer. Me and Doris watched it (she is amazing at English, and only needed me to translate Cartman’s crazy English every once in a while) and we agreed that the best part is when the French Canadian guy asks, “Would you like a mooo-stache?”
Montbelliard - archeologists and dreamy prince people
Dear Montbelliard, France:
You and your Christmas market were sortof an interesting antidote to my hangover. Though I had to carry my laptop all through you, I thank you for bringing me and the Leather Pouch Prince together for brief eye contact. I sorta got lost in his big French eyes when I first saw him, it was a little shocking. He is probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in person (Emilie agrees), and now I own a leather pouch he made, and its super useful! He really did look like some sort of dark prince or something, but like, he would eventually meet a princess and they would have a festival, etc…but really he was just a leather man! When he called me mademoiselle, it was something truly special. I am really stumbling with expressing how cute this French dude was. Just imagine…he was like, fairy tale, hellooooooo. But he just made leather pouches (damn nice ones, ps, and at a reasonable price).
Montbelliard was home to a famous anthropologist, but I was more into their cool pizzas, and how the whole alsacian + French genepool concept had really done wonders for montbelliard, which would make me dare to call it the most attractive city in france, thus far. Everyone looked like princes! Even the old dudes eating interesting cheese sandwiches in the Christmas market tent.
I saw a statue I decided looked like Emilie’s dad, I got some cheese potatoes that were sorta gross, but sorta good, we talked to funny weird pizza makers who were very friendly and funny (yay, normal funny and friendly people) and we had some beer, b/c hey, Montbelliard is near Germany.
The singing Marseilles football hooligans was really just an added bonus, though I was a little overwhelmed by them when I was like, hungover and carrying the laptop and like, sorta angry in general at the air for being so hard to breathe, etc…..Still, Emilie and I decided that our pretty much fav thing about Europe that you really can’t find in the states is their propensity to sing whenever possible, and their stock of songs for most every (drinking) occasion. Sure, we’ve covered the xmas tune market, and the pop music, sure, but for old fashioned drinking songs (and the real embarrassment-free willingness, if not enthusiasm to sing them…) there’s not place like the Big E.
I heart you Montbelliard. If you’re out there leather pouch prince, I sortof heart you, too.
I need to write me some drinking songs to sing in the USA, dude. My buddy doris even knows a drinking song about her region…from what I know of it, it rules. I want a regional song to sing when I drink! The Missouri waltz could do…I should learn it.
You and your Christmas market were sortof an interesting antidote to my hangover. Though I had to carry my laptop all through you, I thank you for bringing me and the Leather Pouch Prince together for brief eye contact. I sorta got lost in his big French eyes when I first saw him, it was a little shocking. He is probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in person (Emilie agrees), and now I own a leather pouch he made, and its super useful! He really did look like some sort of dark prince or something, but like, he would eventually meet a princess and they would have a festival, etc…but really he was just a leather man! When he called me mademoiselle, it was something truly special. I am really stumbling with expressing how cute this French dude was. Just imagine…he was like, fairy tale, hellooooooo. But he just made leather pouches (damn nice ones, ps, and at a reasonable price).
Montbelliard was home to a famous anthropologist, but I was more into their cool pizzas, and how the whole alsacian + French genepool concept had really done wonders for montbelliard, which would make me dare to call it the most attractive city in france, thus far. Everyone looked like princes! Even the old dudes eating interesting cheese sandwiches in the Christmas market tent.
I saw a statue I decided looked like Emilie’s dad, I got some cheese potatoes that were sorta gross, but sorta good, we talked to funny weird pizza makers who were very friendly and funny (yay, normal funny and friendly people) and we had some beer, b/c hey, Montbelliard is near Germany.
The singing Marseilles football hooligans was really just an added bonus, though I was a little overwhelmed by them when I was like, hungover and carrying the laptop and like, sorta angry in general at the air for being so hard to breathe, etc…..Still, Emilie and I decided that our pretty much fav thing about Europe that you really can’t find in the states is their propensity to sing whenever possible, and their stock of songs for most every (drinking) occasion. Sure, we’ve covered the xmas tune market, and the pop music, sure, but for old fashioned drinking songs (and the real embarrassment-free willingness, if not enthusiasm to sing them…) there’s not place like the Big E.
I heart you Montbelliard. If you’re out there leather pouch prince, I sortof heart you, too.
I need to write me some drinking songs to sing in the USA, dude. My buddy doris even knows a drinking song about her region…from what I know of it, it rules. I want a regional song to sing when I drink! The Missouri waltz could do…I should learn it.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Morteau - land of watches and cows
And Emilie!
We had a lovely time in foggy Morteau! I arrived late thursday night, after I left early from the class that drew me a lovely picture.
Needless to say, another 10 minutes with those hooligans - 10 minutes that might make me late for a cheese drenched weekend in the french/swiss/german/alscace countryside - was really not on my to do list. So i left! And I got to Morteau in the fog and we went to the Terminus bar --- its called the Term if you are in the know like Miss Emilie. We chilled in the smoke-laden air, but before my contacts began to feel like Morteauciean sausages on my eyeballs, we met some locals!
Score!
They were nice dudes, and very encouraging of my not so perfect french, and keen to listen to emilie's pretty much perfect french.
The one guy who introduced himself awkwardly apologized for being of arab descent, which was a little weird b-c at first me and Em had no clue why he was apologizing and when we realized why he was apologizing....well, we still had no clue why he was apologizing.
A beer later we went back to Emilie's dorm and I passed out while she had to get up for class in the morning...yuck. But it was worth it, as now we had some local homeys.
After delicious morteauacien specialties with her buddy Ruven - "Groovy Ruvy" in some circles - we went to play board games like taboo and Uno with Emilie's teacher friend/colleagues. This one french dude kept on cussing like all the time in french and for that, I loved him. He was funny. What was his name Emilie? I tried some Pastis, and it looked like slime and tasted a little bit like licorice soap, but its something that I am not ashamed to say, I could enjoy from time to time with very little grimace.
The next day, we went for a walk? Did we? I can't remember, but it was a totally awesome walk. Hills and little houses, and random fountains and the obligatory WW1 memorial statue. And chickens, too!
We had a lovely time in foggy Morteau! I arrived late thursday night, after I left early from the class that drew me a lovely picture.
Needless to say, another 10 minutes with those hooligans - 10 minutes that might make me late for a cheese drenched weekend in the french/swiss/german/alscace countryside - was really not on my to do list. So i left! And I got to Morteau in the fog and we went to the Terminus bar --- its called the Term if you are in the know like Miss Emilie. We chilled in the smoke-laden air, but before my contacts began to feel like Morteauciean sausages on my eyeballs, we met some locals!
Score!
They were nice dudes, and very encouraging of my not so perfect french, and keen to listen to emilie's pretty much perfect french.
The one guy who introduced himself awkwardly apologized for being of arab descent, which was a little weird b-c at first me and Em had no clue why he was apologizing and when we realized why he was apologizing....well, we still had no clue why he was apologizing.
A beer later we went back to Emilie's dorm and I passed out while she had to get up for class in the morning...yuck. But it was worth it, as now we had some local homeys.
After delicious morteauacien specialties with her buddy Ruven - "Groovy Ruvy" in some circles - we went to play board games like taboo and Uno with Emilie's teacher friend/colleagues. This one french dude kept on cussing like all the time in french and for that, I loved him. He was funny. What was his name Emilie? I tried some Pastis, and it looked like slime and tasted a little bit like licorice soap, but its something that I am not ashamed to say, I could enjoy from time to time with very little grimace.
The next day, we went for a walk? Did we? I can't remember, but it was a totally awesome walk. Hills and little houses, and random fountains and the obligatory WW1 memorial statue. And chickens, too!
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