MONSTER BLOG

I haven't written the blog yet but I can feel it will be monster-like, probably do to the monster-like pile of things I should be doing, but don't want to: exercise, shower, email back potential employers, homework, seeing a travel agent (why am I still scared of speaking French after five months? ugh), buying sandals (I'm in pursuit of the PERFECT pair of sandals because I'm going to be doing some traveling and want to bring only one pair of shoes but I don't know if it's possible), hanging up laundry, plucking my eyebrows...ok...I will stop now. I think sometimes I use writing in my blog to procrastinate but I start to procrastinate at even writing anything. So here I go.

Time goes by too fast. Too fast, and MUCH too slow. I was going to write that I am coming off a really nice weekend, but then I realized it's Thursday which means it's practically already the NEXT weekend! Yet I feel like the moment I pick up my little brother at the Amsterdam airport on July 16th, 9:15 A.M. is a lifetime away. And it's always going to fast or too slow in the wrong direction. Wow. Profound, Casey. Putting into words thoughts which have never ever been thought by anybody in the history of mankind. Well anyway. I think I already wrote that I spent my Saturday shopping and feeling miserable. However, Sunday was June 1st. Meaning not only is it June now...yes!...but also that all of the museums in Paris were free (as they are the first Sunday of every month). So I went with Luis to the Picasso museum, and then we enjoyed lunch down the street from la Place de la Bastille. It costs 4€ for a non-refillable coca light probably amounting to 12 ounces. $6. Just so everybody knows. I wish I had known before I ordered it.
After eating, we went over to the Museum of Eroticism, in Pigalle. Oddly enough, there was no free entry, despite it being the first Sunday of the month. So after forking over 5€ apiece, we were in. Naturally I made a "that's what she said" joke in the first 30 seconds of our being there (it was raining! I had an umbrella and Luis said 'c'est mouillé.' (it's wet). You know you would have too). Something I had to wonder about as we looked at all the pervy (I mean, beautiful) paintings, was the music choice. U2, probably greatest hits because I definitely heard "With or Without You" and a new one (not sure of the title) right after one another. Or maybe a U2 mix. I wondered because to me U2 is not a very erotic music choice, but maybe the sad looking man working at the counter thought it was. Or maybe they intentionally play non-sexy music because they don't want anybody to get too turned on in a museum. I wonder if I were to go back today, would U2 be playing again? Or maybe this time it would be REM? Is there something wrong with me because I was looking at erotic paintings and thinking about Bono instead of boners? Probably. But I don't care. After the museum we found an irish pub and I drank a pint of guinness and thought about how I didn't want to go home(to my fake home here that is), and an old man drew us (without permission) and then kept ripping up his drawings.
And now it's Thursday. I've spent a good chunk of the morning reading Mindy Kaling's shopping blog, which has now inspired me to become a semi-famous female writer-performer on a successful network television series, and then do a lot of shopping and then blog about it. Kudos, Mindy! Oddly enough that supports my dream to date/marry John Krasinski! How convenient. Where was I..oh yes. Today is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday which means I am meeting up with a childhood friend who lives in Paris now, and on Saturday I am going to meet another woman for whom I will likely work in the fall. I am praying to god I get this job. Pleeeeeeease woman. It sucks trying to pick out an outfit for these types of meetings. I want to look pretty and fashionable, because Paris mothers ALWAYS look pretty and fashionable, but I can't look too dressed up because I want to have the appearance of being good with children. It also sucks picking out outfits in general because I hate all of the my clothes. (I can hear Jonah asking me in my head: do you want some cheese with that whine? Why yes, Jonah, thank you. I love cheese.)

Ok I'm just going to cut myself off here because I don't know how to write a blog and I actually really do need to go do some of those other things. Bon weekend everybody! bisouuuuuuuux


Oh, and I should add one thing. I am not scared of speaking French. Going to a travel agent is something I would feel awkward about in America too. Why? Don't ask me. I'm a big weirdo. And Parisiens are mean so whatever.