Je m'appelle Claude.

So I've officially been in France for a week and all I can say is "holy crap". Take that to mean what you want. Maybe I'm super happy, maybe I think this place is a dump. It doesn't really matter what you think I think. 


 Before I even left LA I learned something very important. If someone is speaking to you in French and you reply in English "I don't speak French," they will not understand you and will continue to speak French. That made me very scared for Europe so I called Matilda who only said, "Ze American girls, zey walk like zis. 'Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Oh my  gawd!"  (I'm watching that now... You know what's weird and makes me feel old? The movie came out in 1999 and they spend 112 Francs on Pizza Hut. FRANCS. Oy I feel old.)


Then I met two little girls with matching backpacks. They told me they like rainbows and sparkly things. The things I learn from kids under the age of five is impressive. One of them had a flower clip in her hair. It was sparkly.  


So I finally arrived in Cannes and realized I don't speak any French. Like, none. So in the process of trying to get my keys to the apartment I started counting on my fingers and finally managed to say "trois trois quartre" and the man laughed at me. And then he laughed harder because my roommate/co-worker had gotten stuck in the revolving door and was screaming for help.


So we've been frolicking a lot. Working 9am-7ish pm and then going out. One night I stayed out until 4:30am. That is not good for my grandma persona. Last night we napped from 6:45 until 9 and then went out. That was better for my grandma persona. I quite enjoy sleeping. 


Our apartment is tiny but quaint. Our kitchen is in a closet. Seriously. I don't know how else to explain it. Can a kitchen be gay? Do kitchens have a sexuality? (Can you tell I've barely slept? Probably.)


I haven't seen any celebs yet (sorry to disappoint you, Grandma) but we're hoping to attend a few premieres next week so maybe I'll see some then. A friend of ours had dinner with the cast of "Madagascar 3" the other night. I tried to stay super calm when she told me that, but naturally that only lasted about 30 seconds before my hands started waving and I was all "5 year old girl high pitched voice Melissa".  My roommate/co-worker also tried to push her way into P. Diddy's party. We found out later he made a drunken appearance and tried to jump off a balcony. Ooooh, Cannes.  


Yesterday our film premiered! I've already seen it a few times, but this was the first time I saw it in a theater on a big screen. Pretty exciting! I can't divulge too much information because it's unreleased and since we didn't let press in, I'm not gonna be the press. I tweeted at the director and he responded - twice. I feel so famous. 


Also, you know what's ridiculous? Everyone here thinks they're famous. It's amazing that anyone with a D-SLR looks like paparazzi and thus anyone without one is desperate to strike a pose for the "might be paparazzi". No one takes my picture because I walk down the street with oversized sunglasses, a hood shading my face, and my hands in the air. Sometimes I scream "NO PICTURES!" But not all the time.  


But, yeah. More great/stupid stories to come. 


P.S. You Americans, Cannes is pronounced like "Can." I am in Can. Not Caaahn. The French told me so.

The Love Bug Bit Me!

You know where we've all been? Yes, Taco Bell at 1am, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about that awkward moment where you have to decide between lying and telling the truth...about a hickey. 


Once someone told me to scrape a fork over it to make it disappear faster. You know what I say to that? I say "forks are for brushing hair, gosh! Did Ariel not teach you anything?" I'm quite fond of the results I get from my dinglehopper. 


I tried covering it up with makeup but I think I made it worse. I probably did it wrong. I'm not very good at putting on makeup.


I've gone the obvious but protective decorative scarf route. It usually works pretty well - it hides the visual despite the fact that everyone with a brain knows why you're wearing it. My parents came to visit me during college and we had planned to go to breakfast together. I woke up with a very very very obvious hickey, so I borrowed a scarf from my roommate - let's call her Joan. Joan is the queen of scarves. She has so many. They're the best. And so is she. 


Anyway, I threw on a scarf and left for breakfast with my parents. Mid meal my mom comments on how much she loves the scarf and says, "I didn't know you liked scarves! It looks so nice! Can you show me how to put it on so it looks like that?" At this point I'm beyond uncomfortable (apparently I'm always uncomfortable, but whatever. I was uncomfortable, i.e. normal) and begin to stare wide-eyed at my mother trying to get her to shut it. My dad has directed his attention elsewhere - he either knew what was going on and was smart enough not to ask, or was already annoyed by the girly banter that had begun only minutes before. Dad, I know you're reading this - did you know? Oh well, you know now.  Sorry.  I told my mom later that day to get her to stop asking. Her face was priceless. 


My parents later came back to my apartment and my room was spotless except for a shirt under my desk that was not mine, and obviously not mine. I blamed it on the boyfriend of another roommate, saying he must have been drunkenly stripping. I think they bought it at the time. Truth is out now!


Joan went a different direction. We were talking one morning when I asked her what was wrong with her lip. She insisted it was makeup but we quickly realized it was a bruise/bite mark. Of course Joan was spending time with her family that day and when her mom asked what happened, she announced she walked into a door. I don't know how you walk into a door with your lip, but apparently it's quite dangerous. I'm impressed, Joan. 


You can always say you burnt your neck on a hair appliance, but I suggest styling your hair accordingly. No one is going to believe you burnt yourself on a straightener if your hair is curly. 


So, to lie or not to lie? That is not the question. The question is 'how do I lie successfully?' I don't know. I keep trying to think of ways to lie but I'm a really bad liar. I mean REALLY bad. I might as well say a raccoon came running in and bit me. 

NM U? K.

I WILL NOT SURRENDER, but I'm very guilty (can you be very guilty?) of using abbreviations in written conversation. And unfortunately sometimes in spoken conversation. With help from the always brilliant Matilda I've compiled a list of frequently used abbrevs. Naturally I've included my opinion on each - and the real meaning. Don't BRB me. You don't know what you've just said.

LOL No, you are not laughing. / Little Old Ladies

BRB I don't believe you. BBL is more approps. / Big round butt.

LMAO I'd say the chance that you're laughing you ass off is pretty slim (unlike your ass). If your ass is falling off, I doubt you're laughing.  / Lonely Men And Others

YOLO Phoebe Buffay would disagree. / Yesterday our lake overflowed!

TTYL I'll probably never hear from you again. / The transvestite yelled loudly.

WTF If you're gonna curse, spell the whole GD word. / Why the face? (Thanks, Phil Dunphy!)

WTH Again, either curse or don't say it. / Wealthy trust holder.

YASHDYSU This is too long. / You are so, how do you say...ughh!

GTG Just go, don't tell me. You're wasting time. / Gross tissue, girl.

ROTFL Your friends and parents are about to have you committed. / Running on the flat land. 

SMH Or you could say "I don't agree" or "I disapprove". / Smelly man hands.

ILY/ILU If you loved me you'd spell all the words.  / If ladders yelped.  I lost unicorns. 

OMG I don't know what happened, but it's probably not as tragic as you think. / Offered me gold. 

Ready? Set? Decipher!

Today I saw three LOL but only one of them had a BRB. The BRB OMG. And did I tell you YOLO? Franklin was pretty upset so I said "WTF?" He got pissed off and screamed "YASHDYSU!" like he was a twelve year old girl. And then I went to the grocery store and the homeless guy with SMH was crying so I gave him a tissue and he said "GTG" because it was dirty -- it was all I had!  So TTYL at him to be more grateful. 

In my dream ILU and the scary garden gnome hit me! So I hit him right back with my travel ladder. Man, ILY, it would've! I swung that thing hard! I was really upset, so I frolicked off to the brothel to chill with LMAO and met a WTH who told me that he was ROTFL away from the cops. So I called 911 and booked it. Then I woke up.

Now re-read the above as if everything was its "real" meaning. Confusing, right? Stop using abbrevs. It's effing annoying. 

Is Life In Plastic Fantastic?

When I was young I asked my mom why she didn't look like Barbie. I don't remember her reaction or response, but that's probably for the best. Maybe a more appropriate question would have been, "Mom, where are Barbie's parents? Why is she always babysitting Kelly? How does she have time to go out with Ken?"

So obviously those questions are way more sophisticated than my four year old mind could handle, but when I think about it now I'm truly curious. I can barely juggle work, sleep, and grocery shopping. How was Barbie raising her sisters, dating the cutest guy ever all while holding a bajillion jobs? I only wish I could be a scuba diver, teacher, AND aerobics instructor. 

But it comes down to this: Barbie is a mass-manufactured chunk of plastic. She's what we strive for as children and what we hate as adults. Which brings me to:

Reasons I Don't Want To Be Barbie 

(and why you probably don't want to be her either)

1) Her mouth doesn't open. I like to talk. And eat.
2) I hate the ocean and other deep water type things. I cannot scuba dive and therefore would be jobless.
3) I can't make it through an hour long aerobics class and sure as hell couldn't teach one. Jobless again.
4) She's only ever been with Ken. (I don't count that Blaine guy.) Branch out, yo! See what else is a happenin'!
5) She never had a childhood. She's been the same undetermined age for 50+ years. 
6) Her eyes don't close. No way she can sleep with her eyes open. And no way she can kiss Ken with her eyes open. With someone that close to your face you're gonna start to go cross-eyed. If you stay cross-eyed for too long, you get that way permanently - or so I've heard.
7) Her ass has her name branded all over it. That must have been painful! You know how your mom writes your name in your clothes before sleep away camp so you don't lose them? Apparently Barbie was at risk of losing her ass. 
8) Aqua wrote a song all about her and she didn't get any royalties. Lame.
9) All of her friends and siblings seem to have the same names and only look slightly different from one another. Confusing? I think so.
10) Her hair gets tangled very easily. Also, when you cut it it will not grow back. 
11) Once a broken neck, always a broken neck. [In first grade a friend pulled one of my Barbie's heads off while we were giving her a deep conditioning treatment in the sink. Barbie still has her head, but it sits on her shoulders and her neck is somewhere inside her hollow head. Yeah I'm still friggin pissed about that.] 

Reason I Want To Be Barbie

1) Her boobs are still perky (see previous post "Growing Up and Sagging Down").

Not being Barbie is clearly a lot better than being Barbie. I'm not convinced that being human is better than being a Bratz doll. We'll save that for another time...

"It ain't over 'til it's over." -Yogi Berra

If you know me, you know I love baseball. If you don't know me, now you know I love baseball. Without fail, every single time I see a no-hitter or perfect game I get chills and weep of happiness. When Humber and Weaver had their amazingness during these past few weeks, I felt no emotion. Literally felt nothing. I sat unmoving and expressionless and immediately wondered what was wrong with me. 

 I was so upset that I couldn't cry, that I wanted to cry. Obviously that didn't happen. I thought maybe watching old no-hitters and the infamous "almost perfect game" video would give me something, but nothing happened. 

On Thursday I was at work when I realized it was Thursday, not Friday like I had thought. I started crying. Then the Mariano news happened and I cried again. I don't even like the Yankees, but I bawled. MY EMOTION HAD BEEN RESTORED. 

(My dad just texted me to tell me the O's v Sox are in the 16th inning. Ya'll know I've been tracking since the 6th, watching since the 12th. Yes, I do have a life, however it mainly consists of baseball. I'm writing this on Sunday, May 6th.)

But since I'm talking about baseball, I'm gonna tell you some of my favorite things to see. If you don't care, stop reading. 

This is fascinating for so many reasons. 

I love balks. I love when position players pitch (right now, Chris Davis is pitching for the Orioles). I was about 4 years old and I remember my dad calling me over to the tv to show me a Blue Jays outfielder coming in to pitch and he explained why that was special. I still think it's one of the coolest things ever. It gives me the chills (literally, right now. Reconfirms that I'm human!)

But you know what was super fantastic about this game? The Sox fan behind home plate doing the Angel wings in the 17th inning. ("Angels in the Outfield" is amazing. Joseph Gordon-Levitt? Adorable!)

Crying is the best. For happiness and for sadness, crying is always the best thing. You might say that makes me weak, but you know what I say? I say crying means my eyes are working and that I'm friggin awesome! 

Obviously there IS crying in baseball! Jim Dugan, you don't know how wrong you were. You should be ashamed of how wrong you were. 

[Now it's Monday, May 7th and the Orioles have the best record in MLB. Is this real life?]

You Like Me! You Really Like Me!

Apparently I have worldwide appeal. I didn't even know I had state wide appeal, but alas, people around the globe are reading my blog - and more than once, I've noticed.  So, what do you all want to read about? Any specific types of awkwardness interest you? I'm sure I have a personal story in almost all areas of awkwardness to make you laugh, so let me know what you want to read!

Will U Go 2 Prom Wif Me?

Remember how excited you were for Prom/Homecoming? And then remember when your date ditched you to make out with a guy? Yeah, me either. But that did happen in "Head Over Heels" (if you haven't seen it, you're not missing out). But seriously, remember how much you looked forward to that one magical day only for everything to go wrong?

One year my homecoming date was a guy who had spent years telling me how much he liked me even though I never reciprocated. I finally agreed to go to homecoming with him despite that I was to be out of town with family that weekend. I flew back into town just for homecoming. Clearly I cared about this day a lot. While at the dance this boy told one of my best friends (at the the time) that he liked her. Eff that shit. 

My senior prom date was one of my closest friends. The night lived up to all of my expectations and we had a lot of fun. Afterwards a bunch of us stayed at my girlfriend's* house and most of us were smart enough to bring sleeping bags and pillows. Not my date. Being the token Grandma of every group I've ever been in, I fell asleep quite early, with my head on my pillow. I woke up hours later to my date ripping the pillow out from underneath my head, allowing me to bang into the floor...which was not soft nor carpeted. He seemed to find it hilarious. 

I went to a different senior prom with a guy I had known for seven years, but he still found in necessary to ask me over AIM. I said yes, we went together, we made out, and two weeks later he told me over AIM that he was in love with me. Prom night was the first time I had seen him in three years and I never saw him after that. If you fall in love with everyone you make out with you should probably stop kissing people. Simple.

Remember in "She's All That" and "10 Things I Hate About You" when the girl's don't know the prom date is a set up, and then they find out but the hottie has already fallen in love with them fo reals? That doesn't happen. At least I hope that doesn't happen.

What does happen (not to me) is "Whatever It Takes" [old school Shane West and James Franco? Yes, puhleaseeee!] when your best friend from childhood finally confesses his/her love. I'd imagine finding out your BFF is in love with you is like winning the lottery. But from that movie I did resent my parents for not letting me have a balcony off of my bedroom that was feet away from cutie boy neighbor's non-existent balcony. I wanted to jump back and forth to each other, gosh! You know what I also wanted to happen at prom? I was waiting for the floor to open up and everyone to fall into the pool. Epic. I did not, however, want the prom theme to be "Titanic Dreams". Most of that movie was pretty much my hope. 

Don't get your hopes up. Three-ish years post prom you'll realize that anything you deemed uber romantic at the time was simply textbook. Guys get less douchey, but not less oblivious. If you want something romantic, spell it out. If your guy does something romantic without your request, lock him up. He's a keeper!

*Does using the term 'girlfriend' make me seem super old?

My Vagina Monologue

Disclaimer: Don't judge me.  Or only judge me a little. Thanks in advance.

We all have things we look for in a partner. I just happen to be really type-A and felt the need to make a written list of these things. So before you keep reading, I challenge you to write 5 things you'd like to find (or require) in a partner.

During college I was constantly finding things wrong with guys, so I started my list of things that needed to be right with them. 

 --Likes/Is obsessed with baseball and football 

--Loves sushi

--Would be comfortable wearing a Hawaiian shirt in public

--will snuggle me and be the big spoon*

--will make me nachos when I'm drunk

--will buy me Chipotle when I'm hungover.

--will buy me Chipotle when I want it. ALL THE TIME.

From this list I've realized I really like Mexican food. Maybe too much. Who cares. Also, I'm not sure where the Hawaiian shirt thing came from. Maybe from watching an episode of "Psych". But basically it's a very specific way of saying I need someone who is not easily embarrassed. 

I am trying really hard to add more things to this list -- basically anything non-food related -- but I'm finding it impossible. I really like food. So much. I want to marry a sandwich. 

Guess what I just ate for lunch? Chipotle. 

*Yes I did date a guy who liked being the little spoon. I was not okay with it. He was also a complete asshole, but that's unrelated.

Doing the Dirty. Not THAT Dirty. The Other One.

So I was having trouble coming up with an idea for a post for today and asked two friends for suggestions. Both, without hesitation and without consulting each other, said "Tips for Pooping in the Dorm or Workplace." So, obviously, that's what I'm going to post about. Of course, girls don't poop, so this list is strictly for the boys - assuming any boys read this. 

This list comes from Matilda* and Sabrina* (along with my unwelcome commentary).

1. Always pick the stall furthest from the door. [Of course if there's a fire you're more likely to get trapped. Oh well, poop-safety first!]

2. Make sure you REALLY have to go! No one likes getting caught with their pants down. [If you do, seek help.] 

3. Poop fast! [Don't say you can't. You can do it if you put your butt (mind) to it!]

4. Make sure you lay toilet paper in the toilet so you will have no sound effects. "Plops" are not hott. Don't put too much..you don't want to clog it!

5. Flush IMMEDIATELY afterwards. Double flushes are always recommended.

I have no idea how two non-pooping girls came up with such a fantastic list, but thanks, ladies! 

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of those who do not poop. Sabrina is in no way related to Sabrina Spellman, although she does posses magical powers similar to those displayed on the television show. I met her after she turned the school bully into a goat in the bathroom. Matilda is not related to Matilda Wormwood, but like Wormwood, my Matilda is able to pour cereal and milk using just her eyes. I am the only one of this group who is powerless and I fight for my life every day because of it. Please don't abandon my blog just because I can't see the future or levitate in my sleep.

Awkward Turtles and Other Creatures

We're all awkward. You know what makes things more awkward? Addressing the awkwardness. Or not. I haven't decided which makes me more uncomfortable. I'm a pretty awkward person and I'm generally uncomfortable. I take pride in the fact that I can make someone concerned in a matter of seconds. If you've seen me dance, you know it's awkward. And you also know to consider yourself lucky because I hate dancing. Here are a list of awkward things that I've thought about in the past few days (for a variety of reasons):

The Awkward Frog

You know what's really difficult? Trying to maintain eye contact with someone while using you tongue to find your straw. We should use our hands. It would be more attractive. But, I guess it's the closest thing to a tongue work out without kissing. Lame win. 

The Awkward Deer

You're at the mall browsing the racks in your favorite store. You look up and spot the perfect shirt on the other side of the room. Mesmerized by it's beauty, you briskly walk toward it only to crash face first into a mirrored wall. 

The Awkward Whale

There is a reason mom said to wait an hour to swim after eating. CANONBALLLLL! Then you float back to the surface and you feel like a billion pounds. You struggle to get out of the pool only flop down on the side without any energy to make it back to the lounge. 

The Awkward Turtle

Slow and steady wins the race. Or just slow and steady is how you walk when you're sad, with your shoulders hunched over. I don't care if you just got dumped, walk at a normal pace with your shoulders in a normal position. Overly hunched and overly broad shoulders or walking too quickly will make you look just as ridiculous. Be normal. Als, if you are hunched when you're younger, you will be stuck in a hunch when you're old. Straighten up, son!

The Awkward Human

The lady that waxes my eyebrows mentioned it was her 10 year wedding anniversary. We will call her Francine. [Does that make anyone else want to watch ARTHUR?] Another woman, we will call her Sad, was waiting for her appointment. Instead of sitting quietly, she noted that it was her anniversary as well. "It would be 34 years," she said. Sad started to tear up - she couldn't believe it had been nine years since her husband's passing. "He passed away two days after our 25th anniversary." So I said with a smile, "Twenty five years is so exciting! At least you got to spend that many together!"

Without missing a beat, Sad said, "Well, he was in a coma."