Paris au Cinéma

Interesting article in the NY Times about the Paris au Cinéma exhibition at Hôtel de Ville which I mentioned briefly in my other blog (the neglected one).

and still haven't got around to seeing, by the way. perhaps tomorrow...

so I had an interview...

...last Friday for a position that's a step up from what I do now, small firm that hopes to expand quickly, only just founded in January, so really a chance to create my own job within a certain framework, and grow along with the company. They wanted someone autonomous who can take initiative, really contribute to the team, all that jazz... Met 3 out of the 7 people currently with the firm. Liked them and could really picture myself working with them.

Got a call from the recruiter today - the interviews went really well, they liked me, BUT decided to hire someone else.

Waaaaaaaa...

Never mind. Something else will come up.

At least they gave me the courtesy of a reply, unlike a certain venerable and highly esteemed fashion house I interviewed with back in January (at their request might I add!) who never gave me any feedback or answer at all.

Why ? I can understand not replying to all the unsollicited CVs they must receive, but THEY contacted ME and I spent an hour and a half with an HR guy and pffft, that's it, never heard from them again.

It's as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth, except that I read Elle religiously every week and there is no way that could have happened without my being aware of it.

(And yes, I did contact them to follow up after the interview). Is that rude or what ?

Envy

I suffer from :

• Retirement envy. Having spent some time this past week with 2 different retired couples I have come to the conclusion that what I really want to be when I grow up is not an astrophysicist or a neurosurgeon or a movie star, but retired. Pity I still have to work for at least 30 odd years before that can happen, at best. And even then I doubt that my retirement would be nearly as comfortable.
• Knowing what to do with long hair envy. I've always had gamine, pixie-ish short hair and even though I've been letting it grow for the past 3 years or so and it's now below shoulder length, I still think of myself as a short-haired person. Yesterday I spent 30 minutes with a very patient salesperson at the hair accessories stand of a major department store trying on various hair thingies and feeling inadequate. All the long haired women I know can casually twist their hair up in a bun, stick a pencil in it, and look great. I tried that with assorted fancy thingies and my hair is so fine and straight the damn things wouldn't stay in place. It's enough to make me want to cut it all off again.

no sooner have I...

... grown to like the jeans tucked in to boots look*, than a new trend appears.

Skinny jeans, tapered tightly around the ankles, really long, i.e. bunched up to look almost like legwarmers, and worn with ballet flats. Now no doubt I'm just too far behind the cutting edge to adopt new looks right away and need time to grow used to it, but my first reaction is "huh?" Does this actually look good on anyone ?

*on other people, mind you, not for myself - I can zip up (most) boots over my calves without too much straining and pulling, but trying to add jeans to the mix would simply be asking for trouble.

Looking forward to:

May 10th - Bruce Springsteen & band (not the E Streeters), Seeger Sessions tour

and

June 12th - Emmylou Harris & Mark Knopfler, All the roadrunning tour.

Honorary man status

Or a man in a woman’s body.

Last night I met an internet acquaintance (yes, one of those people!) and her boyfriend for drinks. They were nice, interesting, easy to talk to and we got along well so I invited them over for dinner tonight, thinking it would be fun and that S would like them as much as I did. All fine and good, right ?

Except that in my enthusiasm it completely slipped my mind that today is our 2nd anniversary and that S and I had previously talked about going out to dinner.

Ooooops.

Bad girlfriend. Bad, bad girlfriend.

Luckily S didn’t mind at all, but I still feel guilty. Let’s face it, if the roles had been reversed, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t be at least a tiny bit peeved, and think something along the lines of “harrumph, typical male blablabla…”

So there you have it. I’m an honorary man. Next thing you know I’ll be leaving the toilet seat up.

A big thank you

To the man who sang the Girl from Ipanema (in Portuguese) and another classic Joao Gilberto song, the name of which I can’t recall, and played the saxophone on line 13 this morning.

The Metro ride into work is usually my least favorite part of the day, but thanks to him, I spent my brief commute humming along and smiling like an idiot at no one in particular. Not bad at all as far as Monday mornings go...

Me, sort of, but not.

A photo of moi in which I look nothing like myself. (I think - but that's sort of like listening to a recording of one's voice. You never sound the way you think you do.) But it's me all the same.

courtesy of the Lush forum

2 down, 2 to go

It finally happened this morning. S had 2 of his wisdom teeth out and will get the other 2 sorted in 2 or 3 weeks or so. He ended up going to a (competent and friendly enough) dentist in a medical centre rather than to the (no doubt competent and friendly enough, with a private practice in a posh and expensive part of town) dentist who was initally recommended, so the procedure cost 105 € instead of 280 €, and most of it will be reimbursed by a combination of national health and private insurances.

Really, when you're having your teeth pulled, is it worth paying an extra 175 € for a well decorated waiting room with a good selection of magazines ? I think not.

In other news, the internet connection at home has just been re-established after having been down for 3 days, because of a "technical intervention" (uh-huh...) by the internet service provider on our phone line. It took 4 phone calls to the technical assistance hotline, and a lot of frustration on my part, before I finally spoke to someone who knew exactly what the problem was and sorted it out in a few minutes.

The other guys I spoke to were very polite and friendly and charming but had no clue. They kept asking me to plug and unplug and try this and try that as if it were my installation that was at fault. Dudes - everything worked fine until YOUR company did something to my phone line - sort it out, people. Grrrr. (One person actually told me to turn the computer off, try again the next day, and call them back if it still didn't work - the IT equivalent of "take 2 aspirin and call me in the morning")

All the more annoying given the fact that every minute spent on the hotline costs an exhorbitant amount of money. At that price I'll take curtness and efficiency, thank you very much.

in the what ?

Friday night, helped out at my friends' restaurant as they were short-staffed. Finished later than expected, so a little after midnight S called my cell phone to make sure I was OK and wouldn't miss the last metro home.

- Where are you ?
- I'm almost home, I'm in the staircase. (quietly, as voices carry in this old building)
- You're where ?
- In the staircase.
- You're what ?
- I'm here, in the staircase !
- puzzled silence. What ?
- Open the door, I'm right here !

The door opens. Laughter.

He thought I had said "I'm in the suitcase."

It's a good thing he's learning French. We'll now be able to miscommunicate in 2 languages instead of just one.