-What to do when you're bored with those hands of yours
-Creepy lifelike sculptures that will titillate your sense of perception
-Pretend you're Jackson Pollock (click your mouse to change colors)
-All about Dali, with wallpapers for your computer
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
For you artists out there:
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Oof!
I have made it through a "big deal" kind of event. I know you probably don't want to talk shop, and I probably shouldn't give many details. But suffice it to say that my boss' boss (the kind of person who always travels business class, lives in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, has the corner office with crown molding and a mahogany desk) was in town for an extended weekend... and everything went very smoothly. Whew. I also met some very interesting people: we had a dinner - lobster, scallops, rockfish mmm! - for 15 at the French Ambassador's residence on Friday evening, visits to various organizations on Monday (which was a very strange and eventful day, the low point of which the embassy chauffeur ran over a cat in Arlington). I'm not going to go into much more detail, but I will also say that sometimes, when you are the only 25-year old woman in a room full of men who are directors of such and such and hold PhDs in so and so, it is a) hard to get people to pay attention to you and b)when they do it is hard to get them to take you seriously. I will leave it at that.
After my diplomatic dinner on Friday (I had been on my very best behavior) I was ready to let my hair down. Man Friend, our buddy "Tetra" and I went to a coworker's place for his goodbye party (he left for France last Sunday). This coworker is the archetype of the French dude - kinda short, long dark hair, glasses, a big fan of Ricard, with the pitch-perfect French accent, and as soon as he saw Tetra and MF promptly gave them a sweaty kiss on each cheek. We proceeded up to his apartment where there were about 50 people crammed into a smoky and smoking hot living room, dancing and bouncing around to bad 80s music with crazy hats on their heads. I love how French people really could care less what they look like when they dance. It's such a refreshing change from the pretentiousness of American clubs. And there's no grinding! Needless to say it was a great time, but it was nothing compared to the party we went to on Saturday.
Another coworker (yes, the French do lots of parties, and do them well) lives in a house on Foxhall with two other internationally-minded types: a Frenchman and an Italian. They always throw theme parties; one was a white party where you had to dress in all-white; another was a Hawaiian luau. This one happened to be a "back to school" party (read: Catholic schoolgirls, of course). Total damage, ie number of empty bottles lying around on Sunday morning (and this is according to my coworker, whom I will call Le Toulousain) was:
Whisky : 2
Gin : 2
Rum : 8
Wine : 20
Vodka : 12
Beers: 100+
Le Toulousain and his housemates throw some sick soirées. Tetra had so much fun we had to drive him home before we resorted to duct-taping him to a sofa so he wouldn't get into too much trouble (more on that some other time).
After my diplomatic dinner on Friday (I had been on my very best behavior) I was ready to let my hair down. Man Friend, our buddy "Tetra" and I went to a coworker's place for his goodbye party (he left for France last Sunday). This coworker is the archetype of the French dude - kinda short, long dark hair, glasses, a big fan of Ricard, with the pitch-perfect French accent, and as soon as he saw Tetra and MF promptly gave them a sweaty kiss on each cheek. We proceeded up to his apartment where there were about 50 people crammed into a smoky and smoking hot living room, dancing and bouncing around to bad 80s music with crazy hats on their heads. I love how French people really could care less what they look like when they dance. It's such a refreshing change from the pretentiousness of American clubs. And there's no grinding! Needless to say it was a great time, but it was nothing compared to the party we went to on Saturday.
Another coworker (yes, the French do lots of parties, and do them well) lives in a house on Foxhall with two other internationally-minded types: a Frenchman and an Italian. They always throw theme parties; one was a white party where you had to dress in all-white; another was a Hawaiian luau. This one happened to be a "back to school" party (read: Catholic schoolgirls, of course). Total damage, ie number of empty bottles lying around on Sunday morning (and this is according to my coworker, whom I will call Le Toulousain) was:
Whisky : 2
Gin : 2
Rum : 8
Wine : 20
Vodka : 12
Beers: 100+
Le Toulousain and his housemates throw some sick soirées. Tetra had so much fun we had to drive him home before we resorted to duct-taping him to a sofa so he wouldn't get into too much trouble (more on that some other time).
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