C'est Nice

Actually, I haven't gotten bitten again since my last posting, but the bites are kind of driving me crazy. I'm washing my sheets for the second time in five days, which is frustrating, because to dry them I have to hang them all over my room. When I get back home I'm washing everything else, and inspecting the mattress and bedframe and everything. I was on a web site yesterday that said that you really shouldn't assume that it's bed bugs until you see an actual bug, and I haven't seen one yet, though I haven't been looking too closely either. Anyway, I'm using that info to help relax my mind a little bit.

I applied to my first job in this go-round of job applications, an Editorship for DC Comics out in San Diego (La Jolla, actually... wouldn't that be hilarious?)... it feels good, actually, doing something so constructive... we'll see if anything pans out. I had to apply through TimeWarner's online job web site, and they have this big notice saying that you're not actually an applicant until someone from HR contacts you, which is depressing, but... anyway. Perhaps tomorrow I'll start combing through various craigslisty and NYU CareerNet type things. Oy.

All right, well, I guess there's not that much to report, but since I was connected thought I might as well say hey. heeey!

i've been hit again, another round of bites. I'm slowly resigning myself to the reality that, perhaps, i have a bed bug infestation in my room. this of course makes me fairly unhappy, seeing as it will require me to do a butt load of cleaning and inspecting, and then to talk to the people who run the school to see what exactly I should do about it. The prospect is rather daunting. Then, there is the question of where I'm supposed to sleep in the meantime, or if I'm just going to continue getting bitten. Barf-o-la. My worries weren't exactly eased by an article on CNN detailing a new bedbug epidemic in the States: http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/01/22/bedbugs.ap/index.html. Apparently, there's nowhere to run. Awesome. I hate it.

This weekend was pretty okay. I'm on a budget since I purchased my plane tickets for the february break, which is probably a good thing, since there's no real reason to be spending a lot of money anyway. I saw three movies at the cinematheque this weekend, where, at 1,50 EUR per film, I decided letting myself splurge was okay. The films where The Maltese Falcon, The Gingerbread Man, and Fargo, the three films part of the cinematheque's admittedly bizarre "Film Noir" series. Anyway, all three were pretty good; I was surprised that I hadn't heard of Gingerbread Man, the thing was star studded: Kenneth Branagh, Robert Duvall, Robert Downey, Jr., even Famke Jannsen, who plays Dr. Jane Grey in the X-Men films (and who I'd never heard of before) was in it. It was a film of a Grisham short story, which was strange, because you don't expect a Savannah accent to pop out of Branagh's mouth, yet, there it was. The story was a bit... odd... and I feel perhaps the potent symbol of the Gingerbread Man was somewhat misused, but then, I haven't really spent that much time thinking hard about the subject.

Fargo was the most fun, but I suppose it was engineered to be a "fun" movie more than the other two. It did make me wonder where Frances MacDormand has gotten to; that's the role I believe she won an Oscar for, and deservedly so. It also made me want to be in some cheesy Minessotan Diner with a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes and some sausage, while it was snowing outside, but, alas.

Anyway, the rest of the weekend followed the normal pattern, first drinking at Johnny's on the cheap, then a pint at Thor's on the not-so-cheap. There was a brief interlude at a discotheque, "The Metal Cafe," which I can say pretty much blew large, oblong-shaped chunks. Charlotte's boyfriend, Jon, came back to Nice for a second visit, and this time she let him spend some time with us (during his previous visit, the one night we went out during his stay, Charlotte returned home early in the evening, 10 o'clock, saying "Jon's really tired" over and over again... a likely story). But it was good chatting with him; as it turns out, he lived for two years or so in his earlier childhood in Chappaqua, of all places, so we got to do a little "Oh, those crazy United States!" which is always fun.

All right, I gotta run; I have class in five minutes. Hope all is well wherever you are, and keep it real.

sup, fools?

in my ever fervent desire to apprise you of from whence i'm writing, i'm happy to report that i'm sitting in the fnac café once more, but this time legitimately, staring across Avenue Jean Medecin at Nice's Notre Dame church (maybe it's a cathedral, I'm never too sure about these things). It's nice, although the stone is very light colored and hasn't been cleaned in a while, so it looks pretty dirty. so it goes, I guess. Anyway, it's a nice spot here... well, was until they just put on some really shitty dance music. Christ. They've got nice big windows here and some interesting photos on the wall... it's a welcome change from the startling familiarity of the rendez-vous café over in the shopping mall. I know i've said it before, but c'est dûr, la vie. It's hard, this life.

The days have been pretty straightforward. I've been continuing with my MLK lesson for my students that I haven't had yet... some of them are into it, and some of them could care less, and them I'd like to thwap whup-side the head. But that's another matter. One person I would like to thwap is President Bush, who has a story in the NYT today talking about how he's commemorating MLK, and I'm thinking, damn, it sucks to be dead. If MLK was alive, I don't doubt that he'd be tearing Bush a new one. But he's not, and so Bush gets to stick his hand up the icon's ass and say naff things like "we're both religious men." Sure, that may be right, but me and Lance Armstrong both know how to ride bikes, yet I'm not going to make any comparisons between the two of us. Anyway...

Oh, so, I got an e-mail from my dad today saying that my mom broke her leg by skiing into a tree. Besides feeling completely justified in my refusal ever to ski, it's weird being over here during such a moment of family need, which doesn't really make sense since this was basically the same thing that happened this summer to my dad, when he tore his achilles. Anyway... I guess all that means is that they're primed to handle such a situation. Bernie and Anna and my cousin Josh are holding down the fort in New York, while my dad is keeping my mom company in a hospital up in the Berkshires. I guess that's one of those "in sickness and in health" moments for them. Isn't that cute.

All right, well, I'm falling asleep, which isn't a terribly appropriate thing to do in public, so I better check out. Hope all is well, and don't go skiing into any trees, folks.

now I don't have anything left to write about.... just kidding. It is hard to think, though, when those deffies get started. for those of you that don't know, Fnac is a store that resembles a Barnes & Noble, but with a darker decor, and interbred with a Best Buy... but no washing machines. Anyway... it's kind of crazy. They're (as in, the French) are having their semi-annual "soldes" this week, so things are a bit hectic round here. The main street, Jean Medecin, which is normally barely tolerable, is now a veritable parking lot.

And I'm sure as hell not getting anything during these crazy sales. Why? Because I've thrown a bunch of dough down for my february break. Unsure as to whether or not I'd be travelling at the end of my assistantship, I thought better get in a good trip during my TWO WEEKS OFF in Feb. So, I'm going to Italia to visit gram and Jerry for the first week, and then to -- wait for it -- Morocco! That's right, folks, your very own Charlie is going to Africa! Whoaaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaa! I'm pretty stoked about everything except the "low-fare" airline tickets I bought. It cost half of what I paid to get home for the christmas break, which I think is something like a bargain. Granted, there is NO WAY i'd be able to pay for this thing if I weren't living rent-free... It's been a little awkward when talking to my non-Lycée assistant friends about the trip, trying to toe the line between sharing my excitement and bragging.

The best news of all, however, is that I've managed to convince Annapaola and Charlotte to come with me. Okay, convince may be a stretch, it's more like I told them my plans, and then they said, "hey, that sounds good!" and signed on. Then there was the requisite alignment of plans, which is never exactly pleasant, and usually more tedious than I like. But I think it's all going to work out. I had been prepared to do the trip on my own, having grandiose visions of the rogue, lonesome traveller in a strange land, sitting all day in some salon de thé, writing in the notebook I bought from a man who makes his own paper for a quarter of a Draim, or whatever it is they use there (i guess I might want to check that out beforehand... ah well). My solo trip also included an equally grandiose notion of going back to Nice via Gibraltar and southern spain, taking the Ferry over from Tangiers, but that got a little complex. Plus, it takes something like two days on a bus, apparently longer on a train, and I think I know myself well enough to anticipate the intense unhappiness that would set in about two hours into the trip. Ah well.

This week, I've been doing a lesson on Martin Luther King for my classes. I like the lesson, because it's both topical and timely and it makes them listen to someone else speak English besides me. I'd forgotten how good the "I have a dream speech" is, and I'd never really read it in a literary context. I got an mp3 of the speech off the 'net, and there's something kind of thrilling about listening to MLK himself give such an awesome speech, recorded from the Lincoln Memorial, and everything. For some reason, it makes me want to visit DC... I've never been to the Lincoln memorial, and as tacky as it sounds, I like the idea of going somewhere where historical things happened.

Other than that, things are slowly re-entering the groove. I've basically given up on trying to defeat jet-lag... my sleeping hours on the weekend, when I'm going out, are more or less EST hours, so I just sort of suffer during the week. I'll tell you one thing: this espresso shit has about as much caffeine as my breakfast cereal (right now, generic brand Smacks, although there's a box of Frosted Flakes, "Frosties" as they're called here, on deck).

All right, well, they've started singing again, so I think that might be my cue to head for the door. I hope everyone is well, wherever you are. Love to all.

yeah, this is pretty much super sketch. i'm teaching my third class of the new year, and they're busily zorking away, leaving me nothing to do. fortunately i'm in the computer lab this afternoon, so i can amuse myself a bit.this includes trying to find out if the bites and rather large swollen areas on my wrist and around my neck are bed bug bites. gross, i know; but i'm not sure what else it could be. i've read one site that talks at great length about something called a wheal, a word i'm not entirely comfortable with, and not only because i have no idea what it means. i've already taken some antihistamines, and perhaps i'll go searching for sole kind of calamine lotion later on. it's more obnoxious than anything else... really, i'd just like to find out whether there are actual bed bugs in my bed or if i've developed some sort of allergy to something french... or perhaps to france in general.

speaking of which, it's good to be back. i went through a bit of a rough night last night, which actually is when the first bite showed up. i'd had this plan of going to bed around eleven so that i could start to adjust to the time here, but that ended in folly when i found myself wide awake at 3 am, totally unable to fall back asleep. i watched several hours of tv that i had carefully stockpiled on my computer, read about a hundred pages of white teeth, and finally fell back asleep around 8 am, only to force myself up again at 10:30. oy.

well, there are more stories to tell of my first days back, but duty calls... time to go enlighten; by the way, i'm typing on a french keyboard, so if there are any Zs or Ws or As or Qs that look like they don't belong zherever they are, blame it on that.