I'm laying on our new squishy, soft, cloud-like couch watching my Michael Jackson: Live In Bucharest: The Dangerous Tour DVD for maybe the third time in a week.
My This Is It movie ticket is already in my wallet, awaiting the Tuesday, October 27 at 9pm (Pacific Time) premiere. I will be wearing a Michael Jackson t-shirt and sparkly glove that night.
When I was little, I remember my mother liking Michael Jackson and being excited about his song/video tied into Free Willy. I decided I also liked the song, video, and performer around that time. Yeah, mom was onto something with this guy.
That was in 1993. I have liked Michael Jackson for 16 years. It's more impressive when you realize that I was not quite six years old yet when Free Willy came out. That's sixteen years of my twenty-two years of life.
When I was sixteen, my little sister and I did a duet jazz dance class together. On Day 1, we said we wanted our recital piece to be to "Beat It," and we wanted to use hats. We practiced at home using our mother's old cassette tape. Not long after that, I decided I needed "real CDs" (I only had a handful of albums then, mainly Backstreet Boys and such). My first purchase: Michael Jackson Number Ones, and I believe the Numbers Ones music videos DVD was actually a gift from my mommy.
Mother and I were hardcore TEAM MICHAEL during the 2005 trial, and jumped around with each announcement of "not guilty." I looked at the cost of airfare to go to London for the O2 shows (mother said that was too unlikely). Then I was outside UCLA hospital an hour after he was pronounced dead. It's weird that that is as close as I could ever be to him.
I know, I know...we suck at updating, but I hope this tidbit is worthwhile:
Today, I disassembled a couch in the hallway. It was either that, or use some ropes to lift it out over the third-floor balcony.
My old roommate Lizzy has gotten married and moved out, so new roommate Tanya moved in. Today her furniture arrived—"adult furniture," if you will. As in, a real couch/chair/ottoman set, that is not from IKEA.
Amy's old white leather couch was slowly dying and sinking into itself, so it was time to say goodbye. But the couch wasn't ready to leave us. It fought its way out into the hallway, and refused to fit into the elevator at any angle. Then Amy informed us that they definitely hoisted it into the apartment with an improvised balcony rigging system.
So there it sat, in the middle of the third floor hallway, as we girls called/texted/facebooked for help. We were ready to rally up some troops to help with the balcony mission, when Amy got frustrated, grabbed a boxcutter knife, and attacked. She cut the back leather panel off the couch, then returned for a hammer. Soon we were hammering out the inner framework, ripping off the leather, and otherwise causing havoc in the hallway.
But we did it. We smashed off the end pieces and most of the back piece, until it was small enough to fit in the elevator.
I suppose I had finish the updates on Paris, because while Emily hasn't asked for them, I really should record it all as best I can.
This takes us back to last Tuesday. On Tuesday I slept even later (which was really nice) although awkward, as I was totally interrupted by French room service trying to clean.
I finally dragged my sorry ass out of bed and wandered over to L'arc de Triomphe. I stood in line for a bit and then walked up the 284 steps to the top. Let us ponder that for a moment. 284 STEPS. Man is that a lot of steps. It nearly killed me, but the view is worth it once you make it. I took many many photos. Taking pictures was a great way to record the trip and gave me time to recover.
I walked down the 284 steps (which is easier than going up) and had lunch. At McDonalds. Yes, I know, I ate at McDonalds. The McD's on the Champs-Elysees no less. It was delicious and unbelievably busy. Busier than I have ever seen any fast food place ever. I only went there out of convenience and price. I spent way too much on dinner the night before (at a nice place on the Champs) and this was my way of making up for it.
I wrote a few postcards while I ate and then moved on to La Tour Eiffel. I waited a long, long time to go up, bit seeing as I had promised a friend of mine I would, I waited. Although once I got to the top, I kind of wondered why I did (being vaguely afraid of heights and all).
Dinner was quite the affair that night, as we went out with her work crew. Mom and I tried Fois Gras, which wasn't that bad. I don't think I'd jump to have it again, but it was an experience and now i can say I've done it. Mom had ratatouille, I had a pot of fish. Literally. It was delicious. For dessert I also had Creme Brulee on a Waffle. Best decision ever. Better than everyone else's lame-o ice creams. The only thing potentially better than the food was one of Mom's work friends kind of getting in a snit with the waiter. But I would've done the same thing-the waiter was all...I guess "uppity" is the word.
We got back super, super late.
Wednesday entails going out with her work peoples around the city. Stay tuned.
So back to that whole "I went to Paris" thing. We shall recap briefly.
So on Monday I went around the city by myself, while my mom worked. I slept a bit late (which was nice) and took the metro into the city. I started at Notre Dame, the first stop of the day. The church is gorgeous. Just so stunning. I took photos as best I can. I also caught the end of a tour in English (which was nice too) and informative. I wandered around the church and spent about an hour and a half there.
Upon leaving the church I decided to find this street that my mom read about in the Delta Flight Magazine. It's the Rue Sainte-Louis en L'ile. It's a charming little street with boutiques and little restaurants. I didn't eat there, I instead had a yummy sandwich from a take-away vendor and ate in the park behind Notre Dame.
Wandering over to the Lourve took longer than expected, but I found it. I feel that's impressive, being as I'm completely and utterly geographically challenged. I pretty much closed the place down, seeing everything as best I could. I did the high points, even taking time to see La Joconde (AKA the Mona Lisa). She's impressive, although smaller than most people realize.
After closing the Lourve, I walked further than I should have. I ate at a restaurant off the Champs-Elysees, which was delicious. It took me a long time to get there and got rained on pretty hardcore in the proccess. The waiter was nice to me, especially seeing as I was alone, kinda gross and American.
And thusly ends my Monday in Paris. I will include pictures and return for Tuesday soon. With pictures.
--So I know Emily has the time set on this thing to be on LA Time. Meaning when I just posted that last entry, it said 1:07 PM. And the my mom's laptop says it 4:07 PM, being Eastern Standard Awesome Time.
And my watch, here in Paris, says it's 10:07 PM.
I'm just throwing that out there. Just so you know.
So I'm in Paris. I got in yesterday after a long day of traveling. Packing went (surprisingly) a whole lot easier than I thought it would. Just a load of laundry and a brief debate about whether or not to take the raincoat (which is also lightweight and cute). (the coat stayed home)
My mom and I flew from Flint to Atlanta. The Flint Airport actually had pretty good muzak, which surprised me. It also had free WiFi, allowing me to feed the compulsion and check both the Facebook and the Twitter. One thing about the Flint Airport that was weird was its size. It's small. Real small. Like, Dude Where All The People, small. I found it unsettling.
The flight was uneventful and fairly short. We then got off the airplane to enter a gigantic airport, the size of which did not freak me out at all. We had a long time between flights and all the hustling and bustling about made me feel more at home. The food court that we found near our gate (one of many I'm sure) had tons of food, as well as an actual person playing the piano. I found it hilarious once I realized she was going through movie and tv theme songs for a while, hitting on Star Wars, Star Trek, Superman and probably The Facts Of Life. My mother and I ate at a TGIFridays. It was...fine.
The flight to Paris was LONG. And originally, my mom and I weren't sitting together (due to booking shenans that aren't worth going over). So we get on the plane, I've got a window, there's a seat next to me (for Matt Damon?) and then the aisle, and then my mother. Before this French dude could sit down my mom was all "HIMYDAUGHTERANDICAN'TSITTOGETHERDOYOUMINDMOVING?NO?GREAT" and was in his seat before he knew what hit him. This was made all the funnier because we were A)totally punchy and B)He was vaguely cute (albeit wearing one of the stupidest hats I have ever seen) and all "Yes! Sit next to a young and pretty girl! Score for the French Dude!". And then my mom took all that away from him.
Other than the flight being long, the high point of our first day in France was landing. We land and then get the announcement that there aren't enough gates, so don't trip down the stairs as you walk out. Okay Fine. We walk down the stairs to see a bus, waitiing to bus us to the gate. Which apparently you can't get to in a direct or timely fashion. I swear we drove in circles for like...15 minutes for little to no reason. It struck me as hilarious.
Then jet lag hit hard and we got to our hotel and ate and whatevs. Day 2 tomorrow? With pictures, since I actually took a few.
Me: Remind me when you're leaving on Fri Me: so I don't hit you with 50 international texts over the weekend Alexa: lol Alexa: werd Me: One full week? Alexa: yup Alexa: I like the idea of lounging through the day Me: Are you going to Paris proper? Alexa: yup Me: PLZ LOUVRE FOR ME Alexa: Oh GOD I will Alexa: Multiple times Me: and eat delectable pastries Me: and good cheeses Alexa: And drink good wine Me: Eiffel Tower it up once Me: WRITE MY POSTCARD AT THE LOUVRE OR EIFFEL TOWER Alexa: Promise Me: Those are my vicarious requests Alexa: No worries-consider it done
I was already nearby on June 25. When my mother and sister told me about MJ, I ran down the street to UCLA Medical Center and joined the crowd surrounding the reporters (who were still setting up). It was madness. One guy near me at one point brought his iPod and portable speaker dock, and blasted "Heal the World."
I went back to my Buzz Aldrin book signing after about an hour in the crowd. Once that ended, I went back. Some of the chaos had cleared, but the fans were still coming out...and so were the reporters. I was even near a broadcast for a French station.
And if that wasn't enough, the following night I walked over to the Jackson family home (apparently I've lived less than two miles away and never knew that before).
I wanted so badly to get tickets to his funeral/memorial (as all my friends/coworkers could tell you), but alas, the lottery system hated me. Even when there was a rumor of a Neverland memorial on Friday 7/3, I was trying to get my work shift covered and rent a car to go. (That wasn't meant to be either.)
I've been listening to an unhealthy amount of Michael Jackson's music since then, though. I'm not okay with this happening.
So yesterday was my birthday. Turned a whopping 23 years old. Yes, I know-Oh being 23.
I've had a hard time accepting this birthday for no particular reason. I think it's the fact that I feel like a bit of a failure. I graduated college, got a degree with honors and thusly set off into the world to be a grown up.
I then moved home with my parents, got a job at a coffee shop and took up ballroom dancing. Things haven't been good, they haven't been bad, but due to the expectations I've put upon myself I feel as though things haven't gone the way they should have. I know it was a bit of bad luck to graduate when I did, through no particular fault of my own. The world has taken a bit of a turn for the ridiculous, especially here in Michigan.
I know that the last few weeks I set into a bit of a depression, and I'm trying to come out of it. Currently it's through doing little things like wearing pretty colors when I'm not at work, reading good books and watching things like "Bridget Jones' Diary", and that whole thing is going get its own entry.
---P.S.-The birthday was good, and now I've got Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip, which is fantastic.
I Promise to update this blog at least every other day. They might not be funny, they might not be long, but I will update.
So we'll start with this brief, yet to the point observation.
I work at a coffee shop with a drive thru. I'm perpetually amazed that when people pull into this drive thru, they stare at the menu as though it's written in Chinese. They then mumble their order into the menu board and act totally and utterly confused and/or incredulous when I say things like "I'm sorry, that was a Grande Mocha with No Whip, right?" and come to find out it's a small coffee with cream.
Maybe if you spoke above a mumble and had any kind of a clue, we would be able to assist you in a timely fashion. I mean, in a hypothetical perfect world.
Auto-response from Alexa: Watching the Slap Chop commercial with our friend, Vince, really really makes me smile Emily: TEAM BILLY MAYS Alexa: hee hee Emily: SCREW HEADSET VINCE Alexa: I LOVE VINCE Alexa: BACK THE HELL OFF Emily: BILLY MAYS HERE Alexa: Vince doesn't shout Emily:BILLY MAYS HERE Alexa: Vince is going to make America skinny, one slap at a time Emily: you're gonna love his nuts Alexa: LOL Emily: fettuccine, linguini, bikini. Alexa: Seriously Alexa: Vince is hilarity
As Emily and I have just agreed, I shall give you a verbal recap of our time here in LA. And by "our time", I mean my time.
So on Sunday we woke up early-ish to go eat lunch at Aroma Cafe. It is this delicious little cafe on...a street. Which I can't remember. But anyway. They apparently are a hot place as the line always was long. Emily and I hopped in line, grabbed a menu and made our selections. I had the chicken and prosciutto panini with the curly fries. Emily had a turkey one with hummus and a small salad and we split some amazing roasted potatoes. I generally don't hold with waiting in line too long, but it was great. They serve you a little like the Corner Bakery in Chicago would, where you order at the counter and then take a number and then they bring you the food.
It was yummy, cute and worth it.
We hop the bus again to head down to Hollywood. We get off, hop the train and magically appear on the Walk of Fame. (see the previous post for photos of us)
For a moment I spent more time staring at the ground and didn't even realize that I was standing outside Grauman's Chinese Theater. But Emily said "HEY LOOK UP" and I did and it was "WOW. WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?"
And then it was an awesome photo montage of us and the handprints in the cement and stuff. Emily will be quick to point out that I am Matt Damon's biggest/only fangirl to which I say "LIES LIES LIES". And anyway, the world is a big place and if Tom Cruise can have deranged fans, so can Matt Damon. Moving on
Emily and I then present ourselves for the suckers we are and get sucked into a "Tour of the Stars' Homes". And it was awesomely, deliciously tacky. We took photos of Leonardo DiCaprio's front gate, one part of the Playboy Mansion, Bob Barkers' house (among others). It was awesome and absurd and we even went down to Rodeo Drive and felt unbelievably poor.
We returned to our Walk of Fame and the Disney Soda Shoppe for some ice cream and a Pre-Disneyland Kickoff Extravaganza. AKA A coke float and an ice cream sandwich. WHATEVER, IT WAS AMAZING.
And soon I will tell about Disneyland, most likely after our Santa Monica/Venice Beach/Getty Museum adventure.