I arrived at the metro station early before collecting Zac from school. Instead of standing in the cold waiting, I decided to step into Monoprix and have a looky looky. Since the elementary student in me hasn't died yet, I did a beeline directly to the school supplies. On the endcap I noticed there were some new designs and they were all in English. If i haven't mentioned this before, I HATE IT. I want things in French. I live in France and I want French on everything. There is no mystery or coolness of stuff in English. I can't take English written stuff back to America and have people think I am cool. It much be in French. Then I could flaunt it and people would be like, "Oh what language is that?" and I would say casually, "Oh it's French." And they would act so interested and say, "Do you speak French?" And I would answer in the romantic tongue as if it were my native language. That's beside the point. The thing that really tripped me up about these school supplies was not the language, but that it was ALL Desperate Housewives products. Yes. I am not kidding. Can you imagine having your little first grader come home and say, "Hey Mom, Caroline and Emma have a folder and pencil bag that I want to get, can we go get it?", and you think "Oh, it couldn't hurt, let's go!" Then you realize what it is. And you know the material they speak of on that show, right? Well all of those things are actually quotes on the folders, pencils, etc. I have nothing more to say on the subject except that I am a little shocked.
Now, the other thing I wanted to mention was how I can't shake my moronic tendencies. Not only do I do really odd things on accident, but I repeat them. Last year I was craving popcorn. I couldn't find microwavable popcorn anywhere, and even if I did it wouldn't do me any good since I don't have a microwave. So I do it the old-fashioned, renaissance woman way. I melt salted butter in a pan and pour in the kernels and let those babies pop. It was a success. Since I'm not the most proper gal I just eat it right out of the pot (only when I am alone). When I did this, the pot grazed my legs and sizzled the skin. It hurt. But I didn't think about it until the next day when I realized that it was a pretty severe burn. I have a scar now on my calf. A popcorn scar on my leg. It doesn't make me feel tough. And by now, it might go without saying that I did it again. Only this time not to my leg. AND this time, I was pouring my popcorn into a very fancy and chic plastic tupperware container. But when I poured it, the bottom of the pot clammered to my arm like a magnet. I have no idea how it happened. You know how the inside of your forearm has the most sensitive skin, yeah? That baby skin got sizzled. Here is the funny part, medication. I have no aloe vera. So I tried some lotion. No good. I washed it off knowing that the burn needed some vitamins and also to breathe a bit. I went to my refrigerator and looked at my veggies. I did some research and saw that tomatoes and zucchini have some great nutritional values as far as vitamins go. Cucumber would be best, but I was fresh out. And so I applied zucchini and tomato juices to my burn. It felt better. It looks nasty, but it feels alright. To be honest, it looks like a kiss from a sphere-face Pokemon character.
And there are many more blog-worthy moments of the day but I think I'll keep them in my journal and in my head. Saving those for a book. I've been reading David Sedaris again and have come to the conclusion that I could be his female counterpart. I seem to have his same luck. We'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment