I have the best friend in this world. really. LOOK.
a prelude to my birthday....
cos i wasnt feeling it...
Thanks dear Jan!!



Gorgeous aint it?
Its been a very flower-ful pre-birthday.

A very sweet Dan sent up yellow Narcissus in a pot (very practical indeed) as well...what a suprise...many thanks as well..I have been very dutiful yeah? watering it everyday. be proud! they aint dying yet!!!

anyways, had my 3rd lesson of frenc today. it was NUMBERED...the french really have a way with their numeros... it is not only challenging to the mathematical and language department of the brain, it also is a tongue-twistering task to just say "94" spelt as "quarte-vingt-quartorze"; pronounced as "carte-van-kartoze".
now imagine doing the ten timetables aloud!
10 dix (diz)
20 vingt (van)
30 trente (tront)
40 quarante (karont)
50 cinquante (sankont)
60 soixante (swasont)
70 soixante-dix
(swasont-diz)
80 quarte vingt (cart-van)
90 quarte vingt dix (carte-van-diz)
100 cent (saun)

k enough french for the weekend.

however torturous the language can get, at least my professor is really nice. reaslising that i was a student of SEAsian, he asked if i would like to watch a Vietnamese Marionette performance at Cirque d'Hirer tomorrow....of course i said YES!
anyways, he actually made the effort to get one more ticket for Janice; Alas! SOLD OUT. he still extended a dinner invitation to her after the show.

A really eccentric man with a passion for French and Food. Typical French. Desiring for us to try a Michelin 3 star baker's bread he begged us to wait and watch over his bag while he made his way back to the office to bring it down.

Now, the bread, it was really something!!! ok fault me...i just adore bread in general...so perhaps i was biased. but as the yeast n flour interacted with the saliva in me mouth, i felt a burst of flavours of the different grains...no kidding!



And so, Professor us bid farewwell at the budget cambodian-chinese restaurant he reccommnded us for dinner. it was cool cos it was an authentic cambodian-owned family restaurant. managed to squeeze in a few phrases of the Khmer i knew with the owner. perhaps i could ask if they would like some hired-help...then i can practise French with them as well as learn Khmer!!!

its vietnamese marionettes on water tom then!

Sweet Smell of Sweat
finally perspired today....however little..i still felt it. the curse is broken. went to play tennis in Parisian Public courts, and it felt good to have the arm and the leg back in action. unfortunately its so hard to get courts that we could only book an hour. ah well... still better than sitting home shivering on the couch.

the body was so inspired that it even decided to run home after class today!

Details about the Run
1 You start from BOULEVARD RASPAIL PARIS .
2 Follow Rue Huysmans for 30 m
3 Turn left, follow Boulevard Raspail for 7oo m
4 Turn right, follow Rue Émile Richard for 50 m
5 Follow Rue Gassendi for 450 m
6 Turn left, follow Avenue Du Maine for 500 m
7Follow the roundabout Place Victor Et Hélène Basch for 45 m
8Follow Avenue Du Général Leclerc for 450 m
9Turn right, follow Rue Poirier-De-Narçay for 150 m
10Turn right, follow Rue Friant for 50 m

You reach RUE FRIANT PARIS . Covered distance: 2.8 km
http://www.maporama.com

(how cool is that. they have an online guide to tell you exactly where to walk and how many minutes anywhere is Paris.) a most useful tool when you're too giam to get a Paris walking guide.
yeah i know the run was short, but it was my my first after 3 weeks of non-running!

you know you need to start excercising when...

1) you have a best bud who's doing a pattisserie course and brings back three full slabs of differently styled butter cakes after every practical. Fig 1

2) when you start shitting uncannily well after being diagnosed with IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome)

3) you polish off couscous for 2 in a tunisian/moroccan restaurant by yourself because

4) 16 day old jeans which should be well-seasoned n nicely expanded start feeling tighter

5) dinners begin at 9pm too often.

aye...evidence on the call to shed perspirition...indeed! Fig1.

i've decided that i really enjoy doing laundry here in paris. its therapeutic. you walk in with a tons of smelly clothes and walk out feeling renewed after lovingly folding the clothes from the still-hot dryer. so you get to warm the cold hands as well as be awash in the redeeming, flower-scented, clean clothes.

since it takes 45mins for the whirring machine to finish, i decided to make the neccessary visit to the post office. whilst walking there, i kinda walked almost smack in the middle of a student strike of sorts. right in between the junction i had to cross to get to the beloved post-office. the riot leaders were clanging metal and shouting revolutionary-sounding french words and they students were pumping their fists in unison. pity i didnt have the cam with me, it was quite scary/exciting. they had actually blocked up the roads for a while by splewing construction dividers everywhere... the car in front the zebra-crossing i was about to cross just banged its way to the other side... thank God i wasnt standing near the divider cos it kinda flung itself to the other side upon impact...saved again...

parisians are a violent lot... no doubt..

(OK..as i'm typing, there seems to be another strike going on...mad shouting again..wish i understood the language...aye...)

finally safe within the walls of the post office, another shouting match begins with the customer and the postlady... again i dont understand anything....(i'm so determined to ace French class which begins tom...cant hardly wait....dying to study...) i must comment that the infuriated customer was still very polite; as he finished with the postlady, he turned around to clamly say, 'excuse moi' to us the stunned queue...stomping off thereafter...

another langugage horror: as it came to my turn the postlady and i had much trouble...thankfully a nice bi-lingualled lady came to the rescue again...*phew*... this all adds to the energy i have now to learn French...fast!!!

meanwhile...

the trusty washing machines continues to whirr away, oblivious to whatever the world throws in it... butter-stained-cordon bleu aprons, 5-day old socks, tea-soaked aprons, bike-grease rags,
10 day old blood-crusted shirt....

while waiting for the last bits of laundry to finish, i sat down to finish reading stephen clarke's book 'merde actually' , about this brit guy's struggle in finding life and love in France.
now he is my kind of riot.
i think the old uncle waiting for his laundry might have thought i was mad rocking in my seat, stifling my gasps of laughter...


(swollen eye and grazed left-profile from crashing face down into hard snow, hence blood-speckled top)

rumble-tumble in the dryer...
all articles of clothings are re-newed for another week's battle with the dirt gracie and janice produce...

doing laundry is life-restoring isn't it? agree with me... besides good food of course..