28 December, 2009 | 5 Comments

I got an email from a guy who works at the travel magazine of Singapore Airlines – they want to use some of the “Amelie” photos I took in Montmartre for an article.  My email exchange with this guy reminded me, sadly, that my photography habit has died.  This is due in large part to the PhD taking over my life (let’s blame that for everything!).  Also, since I switched to a Mac, I have really been hampered by their photo software.  Whoever designed iPhoto should be shot.  iPhoto is the most useless, counter-intuitive piece of software I’ve ever used.  It’s beyond awful.  I can’t afford to buy Photoshop for my Mac, so I have to pull out my old Dell laptop when I want to edit photos, which isn’t convenient (and when I’m traveling, I don’t have the Dell with me).  So the PhD and the Mac have conspired to make taking photos difficult.  I have a backlog of photos from the summer that I haven’t gone through yet.  I just pulled out these five that I took in Paris in August – all very touristy, but that’s what I like:

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18 August, 2009 | 4 Comments

in my ‘hood

I arrived back in London last night. I hope I will feel better now, since for the past week I’ve had butterflies in my tummy and haven’t even eaten much each day.  It’s all very strange.  I don’t know why I’m so tense.

It was an exhausting time yesterday, dragging my luggage all over. I didn’t leave my Paris accommodation on a high of note, due to a run-in with the dreaded French Lunch Break™.  Really, I don’t want to relive it.  My story doesn’t compare to this one anyway.

You all know that train travel isn’t my favorite thing, so I’m glad yesterday is a memory. I took the RER (like the metro) to the Paris train station to catch the Eurostar.  As we got closer to the station, I got up and moved my luggage to the door, since it was very difficult for me to manage all of it and I wanted a headstart. As I moved to the door, many others got up and started to move in my direction.  I thought, “How nice, these people are getting up to help me,” but no, they just wanted to be in a better position to mow me down once the doors opened.

I won’t bore you with yet another post about the horribleness of train journeys.  This film clip encapsulates the misery that is train travel perfectly – different century, same old hassle.

So anyway, my first stop today was the hair salon.  I looked utterly beastly.  You know I’m not obsessed with appearances and all that, so if I say I looked beastly…you know it’s true.  I hadn’t had my hair done since May. I considered having it done in Paris, but then I thought – screw it.  No one in Paris knows me and I’d rather wait for the lovely Chloe to do my hair back in London.  She knows what I like.

Now I feel fully human again.  Ahhhh.

I said before that I am living in Southwark now, but I have since been corrected.  The area, located in Southwark, is actually referred to as The Borough and has been since the 1550s.  The Borough is home to the famous Borough Market and Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, among other delights.  Last night my taxi driver corrected my pronunciation too – he said Borough is not pronounced like burrow, as I was saying it, but rather burrah.  I scoffed at this, since burrah is the way my grandfather would have likely pronounced it and he was from Alabama.  Burrah does not sound right coming out of my mouth, despite the fact that it seems more like an American pronunciation than an English one. Whatever, it’s just plain wrong. I humored the taxi driver, thinking I’d go on pronouncing it burrow once I was out of his cab. This was a man, after all, who kept saying “Bill Shakespeare” as he served as my taxi driver/tour guide.

Well, today I was on the Northern Line coming home.  On the tube, there’s a recording of a woman’s voice announcing the tube stations – she has a very classic, sophisticated voice.  As we approached the Borough station, I thought, a ha!, I will see how she pronounces it.  There’s no way she’ll say burrah.

We approached the Borough station and I held my breath, sitting on the edge of my seat.  The recorded voice said, “The next station is….”  Wait for it.  Wait for it.

Burrah.

And I thought, oh my god it’s the end of the world.  Even though I just got here, I think I better move, or at least just go back to telling people I live in Southwark.  Suthuk.  That has a bit of edgy glamor to it.

17 August, 2009 | Comments are off

August 16th, 2009.

Leaving Paris is always a melancholy experience.

For those who are new to my blog, I lived in Paris for about eight months a few years ago.  While I’ve only been here two months this summer, I still feel as if I’ve taken up residence during this short time. I’m sorry that I didn’t chronicle and photograph Paris like I did the last time I lived here, but my priorities were different. I do have a post with more photos coming up this week though.

For me, Paris is the most beautiful city I’ve ever seen.  Since I’ve been living in London over the past four years, I’ve managed to visit many times (my first visit was at the age of 18, after high school graduation).  The city’s wondrousness never ceases to amaze and delight me.   When I come here for short visits, I want to stay forever.  I never want to leave. There have been moments here when I’ve experienced true happiness – for me, that’s a big deal.  In Paris, I’ve learned to appreciate the small pleasures of life and to notice the beauty around me. These are lessons that have made my life richer.

Three times now I’ve managed lengthy stays here, which is a true gift that I know many people reading this blog would love to have.  During my extended stays, including this summer, my experience of Paris is much different from my shorter visits.  On a trip, you stay in a hotel, eat out every night and spend all your time sightseeing.  That is, obviously, a completely different experience from living in a place over a longer period of time.

For me, being in Paris as a resident brings mixed feelings.  It’s difficult to explain, but I’ll try.  When I’m living in Paris as a temporary resident there is a disconnect between the charm and beauty of the city on the one hand, and my life as I live it each day on the other.  The beauty and wonders of Paris make me happy when I’m outside taking a walk or visiting a museum, but I cannot always be outside taking a walk or visiting a museum – I have to live life, work, grocery shop, do laundry, clean, take a shower, cook, wash dishes – the daily stuff of life.  The beauty of Paris outside my door doesn’t make these tasks any different, though I always imagine that it should somehow.  I’m in Paris, after all – life should be grand!  That disconnect – that gulf – often makes me feel unhappy.  I feel unhappy because I think I should be skipping down the street all day, but I’m not.  I see the beauty outside and I want to drink it in, but you can’t consume it. Because I’m not walking on air all day long, I feel that I am failure, that there is something wrong with me.

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12 August, 2009 | 3 Comments

Yesterday in an email exchange I told a friend of mine that my novel has become much more political than I had originally envisioned.  I wrote that if I ever manage to finish this novel, I’m not sure I’ll have the courage to publish it.  She wrote back with this quote from “The Golden Notebook” (Mother Sugar speaking to Anna):

“You’re afraid of writing what you think about life, because you might find yourself in an exposed position, you might expose yourself, you might be alone.”

True.

In other news, I’m leaving Paris on Monday.  Just the other day I bought a Eurostar ticket for August 22nd, thinking I’d leave one week earlier than I had originally planned.  That would have given me ten more days here, but then today that all changed.  I was calling around trying to find short-term accommodation in London and, miracle of miracles, I landed a place I’ve been trying to get for weeks and weeks.  Relief!  This is a place where I’ve lived before.  It’s not a student place, but it’s similar – I’ll just have an en-suite room, not a flat.  There’s a shared kitchen on the floor.  It’s in Southwark, which can be a bit dodgy, particularly at night, so you have to be careful.  But I know that it’s a nice, clean place and for London it’s damn cheap, which is why it’s so difficult to get a room there. The room is available for Monday, which is why I’m leaving here even earlier than my other earlier departure date.  They only take reservations a couple days in advance and I can’t gamble on another room becoming available.  This place makes all the difference between me feeling stable and calm and me feeling terribly angsty and unhappy.  It just takes a huge weight off my shoulders, y’all. I’ve been a bundle of anxiety lately.  I can stay at this place for as long as I want and it’s affordable, which means I won’t have any pressure to find a flat right away.

This only gives me a couple days left in Paris, which is a bit of a shock.  I’ve ended up with an extra Eurostar ticket, so I may come back to visit in October – my favorite time in Paris.  For now, I just feel I need to get back to London.  I’m applying for teaching jobs, need to visit the doc, need the library and want to see my friends.

A few people have asked me why I haven’t been sightseeing while I’m in Paris [I haven't even taken a photo of the Eiffel Tower!].  Well, I didn’t come here as a tourist.  Remember I was supposed to go to NYC this summer for writing and research, but that plan fell apart.  I was left on the verge of homelessness in London and decided to come to Paris on what was, essentially, a whim.  I spent my first month here writing non-stop, then spent a little while traveling and have since spent my days having a complete meltdown over my writing.  Not much time for seeing the sights of Paris, then.  But now that I’m leaving toot sweet, I will get out more, look at some art, point my camera at a few pretty things and all that, just to make everyone feel better.

2 August, 2009 | 1 Comment

A little quiz. In this photo, you see a bathroom (there’s the shower to the left, the sink in the middle and the toilet to the right).  This bathroom is:

a] In the international space station.

b] In the first-class cabin of Emirates Airlines.

c] Anglofille’s bathroom in her new place.

19 July, 2009 | 9 Comments

What a frantic day!  I am heading off to Normandy on Sunday.  I’ll travel around the region a bit.  I think it’ll be tricky without a car, but I hesitate to rent one because I haven’t driven a car in four years and also, I’m used to driving-on-the-wrong-side Britain, so I’m afraid driving for me could turn out to be a recipe for disaster.  Better stick to trains, even though I may miss a lot of the countryside.  I’m planning on going to Caen, Bayeux, Lisieux, Deauville and Rouen, plus Giverny (though that could end up a daytrip from Paris).  I’m open to suggestions, keeping in mind I don’t have a car. I’m skipping Mont St. Michel because I went there when I was 18 and would rather go back sometime with a car.

I’m not really sure how I decided upon Normandy.  My dream is Provence, but I would need to do that with a car and I’d prefer to go with other people, so I’ll wait for that.  I thought of Bruges, since I really want to go there, but the hotels are insanely over-priced.  Plus, there’s nothing else I want to see around Bruges.  So then I thought of Normandy, because Rouen has been on my list forever (and it was also recommended in the comments of another post).  Plus, it’s close to Paris and I’m lazy – I don’t feel like a 5 or 6-hour train ride.  Everyone (and by that I mean Americans) thinks that it’s so easy to travel Europe by rail.  Of course it is compared to America, but after doing a lot of research into France, I think it’s really much, much easier to travel around France by car.

I didn’t expect to be traveling this week, but now I’m excited about it.  Tonight I took a suitcase full of books and clothes to leave in luggage storage at Gare du Nord.  It would be impossible for me to travel with all my stuff and I swear, that suitcase weighed as much as a Volkswagen.  It’s 5€ a day at Gare du Nord, which is totally worth it.  Cheaper than back surgery.  So anyway, outside the train station some drug addicted psycho started harassing me.  What else is new.  I really thought he might attack me.  So anyway, I’m glad to get out of the city for a while.  I hope there are no drug-addicted psychos in Normandy – I’ve had my fill.

17 July, 2009 | Comments are off

To begin this post, I want to say something nice because the rest of this post is kinda bitchy.  I tried to enter the metro today, but it would not accept my ticket.  I have no idea why, since it was a brand new ticket.  I tried twice with no luck and was getting frustrated.  Then this old man who was coming out of the metro came to my rescue.  He took his metro pass out of his wallet and used it to let me through the gate.  How SWEET!

Other than that, this has been a very irritating day.  I was supposed to move out of the apartment on July 15th.  Originally I had planned to do some traveling between the 15th and August 1st, when I move into my other accommodation.  But then I decided to extend my stay in the apartment instead of traveling.  Though the apartment is over-priced, per day it is cheaper than a hotel.  Also, here I can cook, which saves money.  And finally, train fares are much more expensive than I’d realized.  I am very indecisive, so it took me ages to reach this decision.  This apartment has had lots of problems, which I already wrote about, but finally the internet and everything was working okay, so I thought I’d just stay here.

So I extended the contract on Wednesday and then yesterday the internet and phone went out completely.  AGAIN.  So this morning I called the agency.  They said that France Telecom had cut the line.  The agency apparently knew this was going to happen.  Remember, I’d told them a million times I need the internet to do my work for my American job.  They are well aware of this.  Yet they never thought to tell me the line was going to be cut.  France Telecom cut the line because they need to repair it….on July 27th, ten whole days from now.  I told the woman on the phone that she needed to call France Telecom that instant and have the line switched back on.  She said that was impossible.  She said “This is FRANCE, not America.  We don’t do things that quickly.”  That’s exactly what she said. Then she said there was nothing she could do.  I demanded to speak to the head of the agency, but of course he was on the other line.  I waited ages for him to call me back.  Finally I called him again and he was out to lunch.  I told the woman how upset I was that they had done this and that they didn’t even seem to care about fixing the problem.  Then I said that they had no right to leave me without local telephone service – what if there was a fire or something?  I have no phone to call the police besides a British mobile.  Not good.

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10 July, 2009 | 13 Comments

I need some help from the evil minded amongst you (and I know you’re out there).  In my novel, there are quite a few murders.  This is just a subplot, but it runs through most of the book.  I don’t normally spend much time thinking about murder, which is too bad, because I’ve got to kill off several more characters and I’m stumped for ideas.  So far in my book I’ve had two people shot in the head, one person killed by a car bombing, and 12 people pushed out of a plane at 13,000 feet.  Ho hum.  The murders I’ve created so far aren’t much more interesting than your garden-variety stabbing.  In the book, what’s interesting is the murder victims and why they’ve been chosen, but I can’t share that here.  So anyway, if you can think of any interesting ways to dispatch people and send them off to Jesus forever, please let me know. Think of David Fincher’s film Seven.  Yeah, like that.

Oh – and don’t worry.  Those being killed aren’t really very nice people.

Today starts a 4-day holiday weekend in France, or so I gather – you know I’m on the periphery of society.  But anyway, Tuesday is Bastille (rhymes with Lucille!) Day, so I think a lot of people will skip work on Monday and have a nice long weekend of doing whatever the French do on long weekends.  I wouldn’t know.  I don’t know many French people.  The last time I saw my one French female friend she told me I needed a complete make-over, so I haven’t bothered to call her since I’ve been in town.  And the very kind French family from whom I rented a chambre de bonne I haven’t called either.  They have a giant apartment near the Arc de Triomphe and a big country house.  Sigh. But I can’t call them, because the last time I saw them I was asking them to give depositions in my lawsuit against the other landlady.  And that whole episode was humiliating and I’m sure they want to forget my existence.  [I would if I were them.]

So have fun French peope at your BBQs.  Don’t worry about me.  I’ll just be home alone, thinking up interesting ways to kill people.  I wonder what kind of food is served at French BBQs?  Paté with a side of slaw?  I guess.

9 July, 2009 | 3 Comments

One day I will rent a Parisian apartment and things will go right.  I don’t know what I base this hope upon, given that this is the fourth apartment I’ve rented in this city and each one has brought nothing but headaches.

Because of my American job, I must have internet access each day.  Before I moved into this apartment, I asked repeatedly whether the internet in this apartment worked top-notch and was repeatedly assured that there were no problems. The agency lady was annoyed that I didn’t trust her, so I explained that I’ve moved into other apartments here where I was promised internet and it didn’t work.  Furthermore, every hotel I’ve stayed at in Paris has promised internet, yet when I check in it conveniently doesn’t work. Excuse me for being skeptical.

So after all of the assurances I received, does the internet in this apartment work as it’s supposed to work?  Of course not.

You know, the internet is like water and electricity.  It’s a basic utility. Without the internet, our whole society would be paralyzed and everything would fall apart and crumble.  So what the hell is the problem getting internet service?  I just don’t understand it.  It’s not exotic, it’s not a luxury – it is a necessity of modern life.

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24 June, 2009 | 7 Comments

So it looks like I’ll be staying in Paris until August 30th!  I booked and paid for my accommodation for the whole month of August.  I won’t be in a flat in August, but that’s okay.  I need to save €€€€€.  Now I just have the last two weeks of July to figure out – I can stay in my present flat or do something else.  I think I might extend the flat by a week and then for the second week, travel somewhere.  Any recommendations on cool places that are within easy train distances of Paris?

My flat has its own washer (though no dryer).  Right now I have a load of wash in there that’s been going for over 2 hours!  I have no idea how to work the washer.  They rent these furnished apartments to anglophones, yet never include instructions on how to use things like this.  I have no idea what I’ve done wrong – there are three dials but I have no idea what they mean – there aren’t even any words, just mysterious symbols.  The washer has to stop running at some point, doesn’t it?  Today at Franprix it took me 20 minutes to find the right laundry soap – it’s difficult to tell the difference between detergent and fabric softener.  I mean, who on earth learns this kind of French vocabulary?

Today the light in the bathroom went out, so I went to the hardware store and had to buy a new bulb…for 9.50€.  Bloody flipping hell!  I swear, I am going to take that bulb with me when I leave – they aren’t getting a free 9.50€ bulb out of me!

We seem to have garbage collection every single day here.  Very strange.  I know this because the garbage truck stops right underneath my window.

So anyway, since I’ve been in Paris, I’ve become very boring.  I am in lovely Paris and here is what I do all day: WORK!  I mean, my whole purpose in coming here was to get away and write write write, but I guess I never figured I’d actually do it.  Ha!  I’m as shocked as anyone.  I get up in the morning (well, more like 11), I turn on the computer and I just write for hours.  I’m not sure what has happened to me.  I keep all the curtains drawn because I like it dark when I’m writing.  So I’m inside this flat writing all day in the dark.  It’s not really healthy, but I have to get this work done, so I’m pretty happy about it.  I just feel bad that Paris is out there and I’m in here.  I have been going out to run the occasional errand, such as to buy the aforementioned light bulb and also pizza from Pizza Hut.  Yes, Pizza Hut.  Be quiet.  I’ve also developed a horrible addiction to Orangina!  One of my goals this summer was to cut down on sugar.  Obviously, that’s not going well.

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22 June, 2009 | 14 Comments

Two images from France:

[1] This ad for Galeries Lafayette is plastered all over the Paris metro.  I find it a particularly repugnant example of the rape culture in which we live:

In billboard size in the metro, it’s even more shocking.  And it’s at virtually every station.  This woman, all greased up, is in a rather graphic sex pose and as we can see, she’s really just “asking for it.”  I really can’t imagine this being in the London Underground or NYC subway system – what do others think?  As a woman, I feel this ad contributes to an unsafe environment that encourages sexual objectification and rape and I think it should be taken down immediately.  And as for children and teens seeing this everyday, I just feel sick about it. I wish my French were good enough to write a scathing letter to both the metro bosses and Galeries Lafayette.

[2] President Sarkozy has launched a campaign against women wearing the burka in France.  “In the first presidential address to parliament in 136 years” Sarkozy said “The burqa is not a religious sign, it’s a sign of subservience, a sign of debasement — I want to say it solemnly.  It will not be welcome on the territory of the French Republic.”  [Quotes and photo from the AP.]  For other signs of subservience and debasement, see the Galeries Lafayette ad above.

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19 June, 2009 | 4 Comments

-They like pink toilet paper here for some reason.  I always buy white – dye is bad for your butt.

-People here are very polite.

-People here stop me for directions all the time, but they are always embarassed when they discover I’m not French.

-The apartment doors don’t have numbers on them.  When I arrived, I was trying to find my apartment on the first floor of my building, faced with seven identical maroon doors with no numbers or labeling whatsoever.  I stuck my key into every lock until I found a door that opened.  There’s a slight chance I’m actually living in the wrong apartment!  I really wonder why there are no numbers – this is the fourth Parisian apartment I’ve lived in and it’s been the same situation each time.

-I get harassed more by men.  I think these men are from Morocco or Algeria or maybe Turkey.  I don’t know.  But at least once a day, a guy follows me around and tries to talk to me and won’t give up easily.  I really don’t like it.

-The noises from outside are different. In London, the sounds were mostly scary urban noises: sirens, helicopters, drunk people causing mayhem.  I did live near King’s Cross though. Here, there are far fewer sirens, but non-stop vespas and motorcycles buzzing around.  There are a lot of dogs barking, a lot of babies crying, lots of people talking and laughing as they walk down the sidewalk.  One morning I was woken up by a live band playing, but I don’t know where it was coming from.

-And finally, I forgot how lovely it is to have REAL cafes!!!  Oh, what a joy.  I miss that the most when I’m in the UK or US.  In Europe, they have such lovely cafes.  I did pay 4.30€ for an Orangina the other day (must check prices first!) but cafes are great places to write and read.  Starbucks just can’t compare.

23 February, 2009 | 1 Comment

Whenever I return from Paris, my clothes reek of cigarette smoke. All my sweaters and trousers stink.  Even with the ban on smoking in cafes, it doesn’t matter.  I don’t even recall being that close to smokers, so the strong stench on my clothes surprises me.  There must just be smoke in the atmosphere.  Off to the laundry now…a post-Paris ritual.

21 September, 2008 | 8 Comments

I was seriously considering taking a break from blogging.  I experienced a bit of a personal crisis over the past couple weeks, since my grandmother’s death.  I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it and I certainly cannot write about it.  I’m in the middle of a strange, unsettled period right now.  But the term starts this week and I need to focus my energies on my studies and getting back to normal everyday life.  Instead of taking a break from blogging, I’ll just take a break from writing about my personal dramas.

A couple weeks ago I went to Paris.  Seems like a lifetime ago now.  I already published two photos from the trip, but thought I’d publish a few more.  I fancied going back to Paris in October, my absolute favorite month in Paris, but upon my departure, the immigration officer saw that my visa expires on 31 October and told me I shouldn’t risk leaving the UK again because I could be denied entry back into the country.  This, plus the recent Chunnel fire, means I won’t be going to Paris in October.  Not that I could afford it — it costs £300 ($550) to renew my visa.

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27 August, 2008 | Comments are off

Tonight at sunset. Viewed from Montmartre.

22 May, 2008 | 1 Comment

more soon! once i’ve recovered…

30 April, 2008 | 6 Comments

My court case is officially over — finally! The Paris Bar wired the money into my bank account, representing 100% of the judgment awarded to me by the court in February. This includes the original deposit, plus damages and legal fees. The last piece of the puzzle was getting the evil landlady to officially give up her right to appeal in writing, which I’m pleased to say she did this week. So that’s it. Case closed.

I didn’t think it would end this way. I thought there’d be more drama. At first she threatened to appeal the verdict and then attempted to essentially blackmail me into accepting a lesser amount. I thought I was in for another long fight, with more stress and even more money spent. But for reasons I’ll never understand, the landlady suddenly gave up and paid me everything. It’s a real mystery. Now this whole ugly business is finished. At last.

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4 March, 2008 | 2 Comments

sunset in the tuileries

It’s been more than a week since I’ve posted anything! How very strange. I had such a marvelous time in Paris — and more importantly, a very productive time creatively — that since I’ve been back I’ve been reading a lot and working on my novel and haven’t had time for much else (besides the teaching). I’ve been feeling a bit happier and it’s always harder for me to blog when I feel happy. I was also too lazy to go through all the photos I had taken (which is a ton of work) and I can’t do a travel post without photos. But now I finally have my act together.

My trip to Paris was last-minute, but I went because I had this feeling in my gut that I needed to get away. I just felt in my bones that I’d benefit from three days away from work, home and my daily routine, where I could be alone and empty my mind of the banal, instead just focusing on art and writing and beauty. I felt this was what I needed, but as I left on the Eurostar I wasn’t entirely convinced anything positive would happen in Paris. After all, I had been creatively dead for two months, since before Christmas. In January and February I often go into a funk. It’s not something I can control — it’s a chemical reaction to the lack of sunshine. I’ve always been susceptible to this, but I’ve noticed it’s been worse since moving to London, where the winter days are much shorter than what I’ve experienced before. Before next winter rolls around, I must take steps to minimize the effect of this.

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26 February, 2008 | 17 Comments

I had a magical time in Paris – simply magical! The trip far exceeded all expectations. I’m working on my novel again (thank GOD!!!). There was actual sunshine and warmth all weekend, which was intoxicating (see photo above — with more to come!). But I will wait to write about all of this because I have some GOOD NEWS to share. Yesterday while I was in Paris my lawyer called to tell me that…

I WON MY COURT CASE!!! And I won it big, baby!

This was the perfect ending to my lovely weekend. The judge ordered the evil landlady to return the deposit and guarantie she has illegally withheld for more than a year. And there’s more! I was awarded 1200€ for my legal fees. And the icing on the cake…1000€ in damages for abusive treatment! I was stunned. My lawyer was stunned too, actually. She said that in France, it is not common to receive damages in a civil case. Even though lawyers ask for them, they are rarely awarded as they are in the U.S. courts. She also said that if there is an awarding of legal fees, it will usually cover barely half the legal expenses, whereas in my case, I have been awarded more than I’ve actually spent (at least so far). I never expected such a big victory and my lawyer was just so pleased with herself and kept saying, “You really deserve this ruling!”

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29 November, 2007 | Comments are off

The Paris suburbs may be alight and the country paralyzed by strikes, but my lawsuit lives on in the French courts! Today my lawyer emailed me to let me know my case has been postponed until January. Then she sent me the evidence my landlady’s lawyer has submitted, which includes a charge that I threw away her electricity bill. Gasp! Oh dear, I hope they don’t have capital punishment in France. For the love of God and all that is holy, you’d think we were prepping for a murder trial!!!

I wonder — on a French death certificate, is “death by paperwork” an option? It must be — right under “suicide.”

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