So it turns out that in spite of my Canadian/Romanian citizenships, I am still working illegally here (probably). Isn't that great? I've been paying taxes for the last, oh, 9 months now, but an illegal immigrant. Whoo!
And when do I get to find this out? After having worked again a little today.
It's the thought that counts. The mind-boggling, administrative-minded thought. Prepare yourself for an incredible odyssey through administrative hassle! I'm already dreading it.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Today at the Elysee
Friday, July 2, 2010
Love
Love makes you forget that you're alone. When love moves away, loneliness returns. When love comes back, you suddenly have no time for anything else. But you just don't care.
Substitute drinking alcohol, sports, work, or any other obsessive activity for love, and the above holds true.
Stay alone long enough, you begin to go crazy. And it feels good. It feels like you find yourself.
Stay together long enough, and you don't want to find yourself again. You'd rather be a couple, a totally different type of beast.
Substitute drinking alcohol, sports, work, or any other obsessive activity for love, and the above holds true.
Stay alone long enough, you begin to go crazy. And it feels good. It feels like you find yourself.
Stay together long enough, and you don't want to find yourself again. You'd rather be a couple, a totally different type of beast.
Paris, dammit
Because using profanity in a title is cool.
Hurray, I'm back! (heavy sarcasm)
Alright, what happened? I'm back from budapest (for good, but it ain't). It's hot, sticky and muggy. The city hates you. The people all feel like if they didn't walk directly in your way, you wouldn't get the GENUINE paris experience. Oh, and who could forget the delightful metro, with its urine-perfumed stairs, which seem to go down only so they can swing right back up 10 meters on. Who designed this city? M.C. Escher?
On a happier note, I get to see my friends, who make me forget that paris sucks. It is so nice to walk down the street after 8 pm and not have to fight through throngs. And they do have some great meatshacks (kebabs). Vive la republique.
Hurray, I'm back! (heavy sarcasm)
Alright, what happened? I'm back from budapest (for good, but it ain't). It's hot, sticky and muggy. The city hates you. The people all feel like if they didn't walk directly in your way, you wouldn't get the GENUINE paris experience. Oh, and who could forget the delightful metro, with its urine-perfumed stairs, which seem to go down only so they can swing right back up 10 meters on. Who designed this city? M.C. Escher?
On a happier note, I get to see my friends, who make me forget that paris sucks. It is so nice to walk down the street after 8 pm and not have to fight through throngs. And they do have some great meatshacks (kebabs). Vive la republique.
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