Most definitely not The Jewel.

I was at one of my neighborhood grocery stores (there are three right outside the St. Paul metro station). I tried to buy groceries frequently because 1) it's very French and 2) I was living in a third floor, ancient uneven stone staircase apartment. So heavy bags of groceries were a no.

I'm checking out and the cashier takes my yogurt and says something to me. In French. I put my deductive powers to the test, "What would someone be saying at this point?" 'I love this yogurt.' (No, it seems more important than that.) Ah, she's pointing, saying something about the date. Oh, it's expired. (Holy crap. She was actually checking the expiration dates on the food as she rung it up.)

So I divine that she's telling me I can run back and get another one. Which I do. 'Causing a hold-up. Which (for a change) was totally not my fault.

Is hacker the coolest job ever?

Maybe it's technically not a job, because you probably don't get paid to do it unless you work for an organization of evil-doers but ever since Melissa Z. and I tried to hack (unsuccessfully) into our school's computer the day after watching Wargames at Sheridan (what was then) 7, I've thought that being able to hack into a computer would be an excellent skill to possess.

(Yes, I know. It's illegal. It's bad. Terrible things could happen. But seriously, this made me wish I was in Texas. Texas! I know it's Austin, but still. Texas! And weirdly enough, Austin just keeps coming up these days. Oh, and photo credit goes to i-hacked.com.)

Do we really have to export everything?

So they all live in the trailer belonging to Danny, Michael's cousin. Michael cheated on his wife with some woman who has a kid with her fiancé. If only his wife had asked him how his day was every now and then, he wouldn't have to cheat. (I swear that's what he said.) But, aha, his wife has cheated too. I didn't stay tuned to see who the guy was, but from the build-up, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be Cousin Danny.

There was a little girl…

OK. So I'm not a little girl anymore. Which is a good thing because when I was a little girl my curls were being brushed out into a frizzy mess by my straight-haired, but well-meaning mother.

I give to the following day

Ok. So I am finally going to finish blogging about Paris. If you've heard the stories or seen the pics, please forgive me. Je remet au lendemain. (It's French for 'I procrastinate.' Or literally: 'I give to the following day' which is a really nice way of saying it.

See. It's not that I'm procrastinating; I just want future me to have something to do. Wouldn't want her to get bored.