Election musings

Look, I don't want to sound like a smart alec or something but we all know it can't be helped. So let me say outright that I called this election last summer.
Ok, so this isn't as big as the time Condoleezza Rice predicted the fall of Soviet Russia ten years after the Cold War ended. But seriously, dood, I knew Obama would win.
I mean, I had been reading the Fivethirtyeight way before  Nate Silver got the Colbert bump. (Largely because my ridiculously intelligent, terribly sexy and way savvy partner has been leaving its tab open on my laptop for years.)
Respect.

Frankly, the campaign was handled so poorly on Romney's end that I confessed to more than one of my close Parisian friends that I suspected the election was fixed. I mean, if I didn't know better...gaffe  after gaffe after gaffe--ok, is this real?
The one and only time I was worried about a second term was right before the first debate.
I taught my students about the Electoral College and showed them that Obama had already won, based on those numbers, but that I was sure Romney's sense of entitlement would bode well for him in a debate. Obama, I said, is the professor type. He wants to walk you through it. Go slow. He won't be forced into hasty retreats or catty remarks. This was fine verses McCain because he was so angry to even have to be debating Obama that he shot his own horse and then proceeded to  beat it, post mortem.
Well, we all saw Romney's poll numbers jump after their first fracas and yet we all knew Obama would come back both fists. And so he did.
Respect.

But then you've got Biden, holy damn--he's basically the best vice president anyone could hope for.
He's got that single dad sob story. The I grew up in Delaware,  pity me angle. 
I mean, be real--his condescending laugh makes Mitt's go-to face look that of a fawning mother.

Now I know you think you sorted your socks, Dear. But I truly must insist that you check again.

Biden is basically the kraken of the democratic party.

Oooooooooo, so now you're Jack Kennedy? 

Check out this Dan Quayle debate for further context.
Plus, Biden speaks without clearing it with his boss sometimes--you're welcome, the gays.  

This was an important election for the United States. It can not be said enough. The entire delegation for the state of New Hampshire is made up of women. Sure, that's cool in and of itself, but New Hampshire is also where first primaries for the presidential race are staged every election cycle. If we hold on to these seats durring the midterm, women's rights can be front and center. We can make sure of it.

Congratulations to the State of Indiana,  home of Tom Raper's amazing selection of RV's and democratic senator, Joe Donnelly.

Way to be Madison...and its environs.

Here's looking at you, Illinois

Aloha,  Hawaii.

                                                         Bref:    Nation, you done good.

Thank you, young voters--tell me that the Occupy Movement didn't impact this election. Historians will be saying so ten years from now. So remember that and use what you've learned, as many of you continue to do with Occupy Sandy.
Thank you, people of color--you are powerful and you have a voice. Let no one see us both and not see equals. No one.
Thank you, queer America, for helping us realize what side of history and civility we all want to be on.
Thank you, women of America. Without you there is no US. Plus, those bloomers are a good look on you. Susan B Anthony would be proud.

Well, now I'm worked up. Better go put some air in my tires and ride off all this joy.
Fare thee well!

You have read this article America / Colbert Bump / Condoleezza Rice / election 2012 / fivethirtyeight / forward / Joe Biden / Mitt Romney / Obama / Susan B Anthony / the postmodern talko / two terms with the title the postmodern talko. You can bookmark this page URL https://trendcelebrity2014.blogspot.com/2012/11/election-musings.html. Thanks!

Something to care about

I took the long road home today, or maybe I didn't--I never seem to arrive at our flat having gone the same way. This sentiment puts me in mind of a Tolkien quote popular for tattoos, tee shirts and bumper stickers, but I would rather not get lost in all of that.
Instead, let me remind you a passage from ye olde Hitchhiker's Guide:

It's quite liberating to remain uncomprehending of the birds. One of my favorite aspects of my Paris adventure has been the gift of being in public and not having to listen to the paltry ongoings of people's lives with whom I am neither acquainted nor  curious of.  I must have thought of that passage no less than ten times--when once the beaches of my placid metro wagon were stormed by the trumpets and tempests of English, ever-petulant to my unwitting ears.

Birdspeak, indeed.

But the times mes amis--they are subject to le changement.
Example: this Sunday past, I went with a couple of friends to the Love Life Parade--a movable feast of music in support of SIDA (AIDS) research. I saw a few new groups that were fun to run along behind and I even had the pleasure of hearing one of my favorite French bands, C2C.

Notice, I didn't exactly say, seeing..

Well, in fact I was in front of the stage for awhile, during which time I lost both my companions and my balance no less than seven times. Never did find said companions; walked home alone, covered in other people's sweat and smelling like smoke.
It was a great experience, don't read me wrong--but I was a little disappointed that C2C didn't play either of my two favorite songs: Arcades or Down the Road.
But here is twenty seconds of the performance from their perspective:
All of this is interesting, I know, but how does it relate to windspeed, power to weight ratios or berries?
Well friends, it was specifically on that outing that I noticed people around me speaking about me. Oh yes, your foreign language fear-come-true.
I got trapped between three people who were trying to go in the opposite direction as the crowd and they didn't seem to notice they had encircled me.
<<Laisse Le Blonde ! >> one of them said.
Oh thank goodness, I thought, he means me.
A young man who's tone was all flirts and smiles said to no one in particular, "It takes a certain kind of person to exit in the opposite direction." I was sore-footed, tired, and... exiting in the opposite direction, so naturally I stuck out my tongue.

It rained with a jealous god's fury this morning--but after class, the sky was a clapping blue and the wind ruffled my hair teasingly. Long walks in cities alway put me in a Holden Caulfield headspace: 41 gorgeous blocks ! 

In Paris, the changing of the seasons is harkened more by the restyling of the vestments in the display cases than any substantial crank in the climate; but Fall is also a time of the harvest, so there have been a lot of fresh vegetables to eat and great meals to be made with my coloc.
I love the people I live with. It was so hard for awhile there to volunteer for anything extra--like wiping up someone else crumbs, or taking the trash down for a second time in one week. But we've turned a new leaf and wait for it, here it comes--the titular line: ahem, and they've given me something to care about.
Backstory: We lost four great colocators recently to lives and escapades elsewhere, all of whom are dearly missed.  But two new girls and three new boys moved in and they're all SO CLEAN! Every single one of them does their own dishes-- get this-- right after they've eaten.  We have cups, mugs, plates--so many UNBROKEN wine glasses and there is hardly ever spilled whiskey on the floor anymore. I can leave food on the table and no one eats it. The neighbor rarely calls to threaten us and if I've furtively glanced at him coming up the stairs as I descend, he doesn't look like he's about to bust a forehead vein or strangle me in front of his baby. Like I said, I love all the people who've lived here so far--(woah, just counted and realized 15 people have moved in and out over these two years,) but we've got a great mix at the moment and I feel lucky to be awake enough to witness it.

Missing out on life, that's for the birds.
I've started my final month of French classes. The progress I've made amazes me. Try to understand, people from where I come from don't grow up to speak French, or Spanish...or anything but 'Merican. Next try to consider the fact that the human brain is even capable of switching between two or more discrite forms of verbal communication..seriously, that's  as cool as photosynthesis....maybe even cell division.

But check it, I've just arranged my first hair appointment over the phone here, sur la planète France, and when I took down all the relevant information I was surprised to look up and not see my professor smiling back at me, ready to ask the class listening comprehension questions.
My newest teacher is definitly cool. She is well traveled and pretty badass, but I was really hoping to finish my cycle with the the prof I had for July and September. With him, every class was as much about improving myself as a teacher as it was about improving myself as a student--and in other circumstances, we might have been colleagues or even friends. But one can't complain, there is--after all, no crying in Baseball. Anyway, you see all the above reasons for living towards happiness. So many good feels, bro.

Sorry, Forest--been to the jungle and seen the trees; sadly, life isn't a box of chocolates. But sometimes we find sunshine where we least expect it.

May you find yours wherever you need it next.

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So hammered, well nailed

Actual picture of me, some friends, some foes, in a pastlife

I am a powerful dark sailor, who has sailed many a gibawa wave. .. .
I read this from a book of poetry in my dream.  I had the sense then that it was quite famous and I was considering updating my Facebook status with it to see how many of my friends would recognize it.
I am at once annoyed and amused that Facebook status found its way into my dreams. For my part, and more creatively, I  started writing a poem for it this morning. I was, however, quickly out of my depth, and it will take a long time before I deign it worthy for your ingestion.
Eat something else why don't you. How bout the rich?
Funemployment is loosing its luster. I keep trying to schedule sessions as an English teacher but it takes so much bloody effort to read in French and then respond in French. It's like they don't even want to work on their English. *wink*
A lot of dudes are writing me to have sex with me, too.  Asking me if I "teach other courses" or explaining they want a companion, male or female, and in my age range....why so picky, bro? Someone even put their prices in their email, 200 euros an hour. I mean, thanks or whatever, that's certainly more than I could make teaching you English. But, think of all the front end investment in yoga and hot wax that would mean.
I do have some great fuck-me-boots but those get put to fine use as is. Everything is pretty super around our apartment. I feel really lucky to be friendly with the folks who share my space. It's just that well...I really miss having loud sex. I miss it so much. I miss it as though it were a 4 packs of oreas and I am a kid still away at fat camp and I want it more then I ever wanted a piece of the Agrocrag. (Check out our 20sb discussion on the matter)
Truth be told, I bet my flatmates probably already think I have loud sex. But honestly, I am totally keeping it down for them. Ok, there was Friday night when one of the guys was being generous with his whiskey, and Sebastien and I ended up at the bar afterwards...
It's funny going to bars.
There I am, finally practicing my French, flirting haphazardly with the bartender, being silly with some English guy named Peter all the while slurping down a 6 euro whiskey and coca when a handsome shape catches my eye, turning around, my body abruptly warms, I notice the man I absolutely must have my legs wrapped around in the next five minutes or else. Oh yes, the internet, I am just like you. I go to the bars to find someone to practice my mantra with. Thankfully, the male I selected was likewise inclined, and thankfully he also had the key to my apartment, because I had left my copy up in our room.  He smiled back at me as I slinked toward him meaningfully, all while thinking, but my face surely not saying, why are we spending money here? We could be upstairs messing up our sheets...
So yeah, we had loud sex on Friday night. Although, I think the second time was much quieter.
On a somewhat unrelated note, as most of my blogger friends already know, Sebastien and I are in an open relationship and we've selectively been telling our housemates  now so that they stop introducing us as the "American couple." A couple of Americans is just fine. You are what you eat, after all. Damn, I must be rich. Rich in spirit at the very least, for I am a powerful dark sailor and I have sailed many a gibawa wave.

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