New blog/Life updates

Wow… I haven’t written here for quite some time. This was mostly a communication tool to friends and family, but now with Twitter and Facebook’s Twitter-like newsfeed, I let this blog fade into the abyss. I am going to start a new blog called LAIntern.com where I will be covering my life and interests while interning for two of the best companies in their respective fields. I won’t be talking about specific details (unless I can), but more on the experience of being a rising college senior working for two powerhouses in Los Angeles for the summer. I will also talk about general interests and cool happenings going on in the world (like every other Twitter user, ha!). Remember to follow me on Twitter, twitter.com/mopro!

A Continuing Theme

Yesterday, I started thinking about my future.  I mean… I’ve been thinking about my future since I was 8, but yesterday, I started examining key themes in my life.  What is it that I continue to do over the years that never changes; what is my core?  Honestly, there have only been two things in my life (other than family) that has never changed:

1. I like to involve myself in a variety of things and gain knowledge and experience in said things
2. I love to help people

The first makes sense and is perhaps the most obvious to outsiders.  There aren’t many 19 year old SCUBA instructors (but yes, I’m 20 now), teens who have flown both sailplanes and acrobatic aircraft, skied and snowboarded the Swiss alps, wakeboarded and water skied, designed websites and advertisements, has done visual effects compositing with motion graphics editing and film editing, DP’d and sound designed 16mm films, done Parkour in LA/DC/Paris, galloped across the Costa Rica mountain side, have a green cord in Capoeira, done magic with doves, be an extremely accurate shot with both rifles and handguns, have published articles in newspapers, traveled to over 30 counties, taught land and water survival, and blah blah blah (sky diving and bungee jumping are happening soon, though).  No, this is not a brag fest – the people that are reading this already know these things… hell, they’ve mentored me through a lot of them.  But all of these things mean one thing – I crave adventure and I crave learning.  People tell me I’m the most random person they’ve met… GOOD.  I only hope to become more random.  

#2. This one is less obvious and may only have been noticed by my immediate family.  Ever since I was 6, I have been put in a situation where I have willingly offered my services to help out an individual.  

When I was 6, in ski school (thanks mom and dad for that, btw!), I would wear a red beanie with a self-made white cross on the front (appropriately made out of medical tape) and say “I’m here if something happens.”  This was the first time I hiked up a snow-covered hill to help somebody in need.  

The second major time I remember wanting to help was at Reggie Smith Baseball Camp (Reggie, btw, flew acrobatic planes – an awesome dude).  At the camp, I would spend days saying “screw this baseball crap, where’s the trainer!”  I would take days off from catching to spend time with the trainer, walking around with a fanny-pack full of Band-Aids and anti-biotic ointment.  I wanted to be the guy that helped the wounded… the guy that fixed the problems.  

When I was in 9th grade at The Buckley School (in Sherman Oaks), I went on a school trip with my classmates to Joshua Tree.  Although I wasn’t really friends with the group I was placed in, during our long walk through the desert I gave up 90% of my water to others to help keep them hydrated, ignoring my own needs.  

Skipping ahead for writing sake, when I was a Junior at Montclair Prep (a High School in Van Nuys) I went on a ski trip.  I was snowboarding down a steep mogul covered mountain when a female friend took quite a tumble.  Already 3/4 of the way down, I hiked back up to virtually the top of the run (she was in over her head), snowboard in tow, to help her out and check on the problem and help her down.  Unlike when I was 6, this time, I was wearing snowboard boots which are much more comfortable.  

More recently, I became an Assistant Instructor, which includes both Emergency First Response training and a Rescue Diver certification.  I crave this knowledge on how to help people, and I plan on learning more.  

Finally, and most recently, during my stay here I was involved in helping a woman in a medical situation. I was with friends heading to a new art gallery opening here in Paris when a lady hit a post and flipped over her bike; high-sided. It was night time so it was near impossible for her to see the pole and she went flying. As we were walkin’ and talkin’ we heard this huge crash and wondered what it was. I look over and see what looks like a dead body lying on the side of the street; no movement at all. My body went into autopilot and I ran over and, in horrible French, started to help. I was right next to her doing a very redimentary exam checking everything from breathing and pulse to spinal injury. She was bleeding pretty bad as she lost two teeth so I made sure she wasn’t leaning back and moving as little as possible. I also found out that when I told somebody to get ice, I actually told them to get ice cream – hey, ice cream never hurt! After we figured out she was ok, I, and other helpful Parisians, helped this lady to a bench making sure to be cautious and give her the physical and mental support she needed (I focused on the physical part mostly). After the initial realization of what happened to her, she turned into a good mood and I tried to help make light of the situation by making fun of myself (I am, after-all, American). Somebody called an ambulance and I stayed with her until they arrived. All of my actions were based on instinct – I didn’t have to think. It was something I wanted to do, something I needed to do. Turns out, however, that my brand new white Hugo Boss pants didn’t agree with my decision. I had some nice blood freckles on my new pants (purchased earlier that day) to remind me of that night in the street. All I have to say is that Parisian dry cleaners are amazing – they can get blood out of white pants after it has been soaking for 6 days – well done.

Sophomore year of university, I learned of a company called NOLS; The National Outdoor Leadership School.  They have a program called the Wilderness EMT Course which “certify the student as a National Registry of EMT’s Basic EMT and as a Wilderness EMT.”  This rocks, and I definitely want to do it.  It is a month long and both housing and food are provided.  Hopefully, I can do it this summer.  Hey Mom and Dad… combined Birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas gift? Yea, yea.. ey, ey!  Why give a physical gift when you can give the gift of knowledge and life?  As far as gifts go, this is much better than my digital mixing board, no matter how much I love it.  ASIDE TO DAD: Man those guys at the Guitar Center were serious! And, dad, remember the phone ordeal?  Too funny after you found your phone but he already picked up so I turned it into a ‘thank you’ call!”

I constantly think about my future and where I want it to eventually go.  I have grown up in a very fortunate situation, and I wonder how my life would have eventually turned out had my upbringing not been so privileged.  Who knows what my future holds – will it be in media like my family predicts?  Will I find a profession that allows me to help people?  Will I do both?  If I decide to not go into the “family business” (or category), what will I do?  But then again, what if I don’t!?  So many questions to ask.  I only hope that whatever profession I finally chose is one that I love, and one that my family will accept.

 

Much love, and hugs all around.

Wow.

Big internal change for the better today.  I watched and read about some things today that really moved me and have helped me greatly on my personal journey.  I’ll just leave it at that.

Just a quickie, sans raunchiness (…this time…)

As I was writing my final tweet of the day (for my twitter, clicky), I was reminded of something.  My “tweet” had to do with my love of flying.  Although my most recent upload of pics to Facebook was that of me glider flying (technically sailplane flying, but I don’t want to sound like a douche… wait, too late), I’m talking about commercial flight.  To jump around this horrible verbosity (and my desire to hint at the fact that I enjoy sailplanes…), my “tweet” dealt with the fact that no matter what the airline, put me on it.  I’ll fly RyanAir, Qantas, Virgin Atlantic, or easyJet, I don’t care; just please, get me in the air.  I have traveled for over 24 hours straight changing mediums of travel from car to plane to train, but it is being in the air that makes it all worth it.

To meet my cruising attitude with my cruising altitude, I require the assistance of others.  Well… you do to.  When you fly commercial, I hope that you, my fellow reader, understand that so much goes into getting you from Point A to Point B.  When your “fun dispatcher” hands you your ticket (yes, flying IS fun) and they do it in a way that makes you happy, call that Customer Service number on the back of your ticket.  Each time I do this (4 different times with Virgin America, 1 time with JetBlue), it is always amusing to hear the tone of the CSR (Customer Service Rep).  They do their best to appear happy and welcoming on the line, but when you just think about what they go through in a day, you know that is quite the façade.  However, when you call not to complain, but to compliment, oh man does that not just make the day of your “fun dispatcher”, but the CSR as well.  Too often their day is bogged down by complaints and “not being good/fast enough” comments (not their fault most of the time, some customers are just ‘flight booking idiots’), but when they realize somebody is calling just to say “thank you for doing your job at an exceptional level”, they don’t really know how to react!  I asked if it happened often and they tended to say no, but I probably just called a few new CSRs… I can’t imagine they don’t get calls daily.  IF they don’t, whose fault is that?  I would tend to cast blame on the company, but when I see myself and those around my smiling and excited… EVERY TIME… to board a VA flight, I blame you.  Yes, you.  I have no idea who you are, I’m sorry.  I blame your neighbor.. better?

Moreover, when you finally get on-board, think of your flight attendants.  Ahhh!!!… I HATE calling them flight attendants!  Do you know the primary purpose of a “flight attendant” is?  No, it’s not to collect your garbage, give you your paid meal, or hand you another pillow, but rather be of aid in-case of an emergency.  They are more of Flight Safety Personnel than anything.  Although FSP get a lot of training in dealing with crappy customers, they are also heavily trained in helping you out if something bad happens.  They are there to manage the chaos come “flight-come-down-but-it’s-rare” time.  In the industry, FSP have taken huge paycheck cuts but they still stick around.  Times of old aren’t around anymore – the glamor of flying.  These days FSP aren’t talking in the galley about the newest celebrity who boarded at JFK, they’re talking about the most comfortable shoes to wear on long flights or why the new garbage bags aren’t as strong as they used to be.  Due to this fact, you should treat them even nicer – the environment of glory days are gone, and so is the money, but they are still here.  Do yourself a favor: on the next flight, actually talk to them, let them know you see them more than just a flying bus boy/girl.  I guarantee you they’ll appreciate it.  Also… pick up your trash, this ain’t yo mamma’s house!  I hope to never say a sentence like that again…

Much love out there cyber people, and thank you to those helping us get airborne, from our Fun Dispatchers, to the Security Personnel, to our “Baggage Guardians” (aka baggage handlers) to the Pilots and Stewards/Stewardesses in the sky (and the other hundreds of people I forgot, especially ATC).

And remember, always say thanks, cheers, xie xie, merci, gracias, gracie (or however Italians spell it).

A little piece of heaven… and no, it’s not chocolate cake.

Everybody is at war with themselves, it’s part of being human.  The trick, however, is to be on the winning side.  

The freedom granted by the ability to ignore the opinion of others (read: strangers, not family) has given me quite a personal power.  No longer am I confined by the gates of others’ thoughts and opinions – why should I give them power over me especially when I don’t even know them?!  Today was a beautiful day.  To think I used to live in an absurd reality where I was controlled by total strangers baffles me now.  When the doors open to those confined by them, saying there is a release from capture is a gross understatement.

Just for Fun

I, in no way, created or thought this up but I thought it was clever and funny.  I learned about this by following Kevin Rose on Twitter (link).  This is taken from DickieMaxx.com.

I tool this from Snackiepoo. 

Type out the sentence you end up with, in the subject line and forward to your friends…also, send it back to the person that sent it to you..
 
Pick the month you were born:
January——-I kicked
February——I loved
March——–I karate chopped
April———-I licked
May———-I jumped on
June———-I smelled
July———–I did the Macarena With
August——–I had lunch with
September—-I danced with
October——-I sang to
November—–I yelled at
December—–I ran over
 
Pick the day (number) you were born on:
 
1——-a birdbath
2——-a monster
3——-a phone
4——-a fork
5——-a snowman
6——-a gangster
7——-my mobile phone
8——-my dog
9——-my best friends‘ boyfriend
10——-my neighbor
11——-my science teacher
12——-a banana
13——-a fireman
14——-a stuffed animal
15——-a goat
16——-a pickle
17——-your mom
18——-a spoon
19—— – a smurf
20——-a baseball bat
21——-a ninja
22——-Chuck Norris
23——-a noodle
24——-a squirrel
25——-a football player
26——-my sister
27——-my brother
28——-an ipod
29——-a surfer
30——-a llama
31——-A homeless guy
 
Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:
 
White———because I’m cool like that
Black———because that’s how I roll.
Pink———–because I’m crazy..
Red———–because the voices told me to.
Blue———–because I’m sexy and I do what I want
Green———because I think I need some serious help.
Purple———because I’m AWESOME!
Gray———-because Big Bird said to and he’s my leader.
Yellow——–because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange——–because my family thinks I’m stupid anyway.
Brown———because I can..
Other———-because I’m a Ninja!
None———-because I can’t control myself!

Mine was I yelled at a snowman because I think I need some serious help.

 

What lies ahead…

As I sit here reading Richard Branson’s book, I keep feeling compelled to write about it.  As you may note from my very revealing [second to last] post, I have been very confused about where I stand emotionally.  What do I like, what are my passions, why the all-of-a-sudden full-disclosure? Something just clicked thanks to Sir Richard’s words.

I feel that both Virgin and Apple have a lot in common, albeit Apple’s limited range (right now). However, their respective cores are the same; “How is the customer feeling, and what on earth (or in space for that matter) can we do to make the experience better”.

I was very happy working for Apple. We always lived our “Credo” and would bend over backwards to make sure the customer was happy. The vibe at work was contagious for both employees and customers alike. I was known as the unofficial high-five king, had Army Rangers and other servicemen giving me a hugs after a computer sale, 60 year olds dancing and singing in the store, and even lunches paid for as “thank you’s” from customers. What a great work environment, huh?! But, as wonderful as all of this was, it would get tiresome.  At the end of the day, it was the same-old same-old and you weren’t challenged.  There also was little diversity in regards to what a person could do or be involved in.

So what do these ramblings mean? I have found a company that directly reflects who I am. If I were to one day work for Virgin, I would not have to conform my attitude to that of the company’s; my heart and mind are already direct reflections. 

I believe in creating and sharing experiences. At Apple, on the sales floor, I wasn’t just guiding somebody on making the 3rd biggest purchase the average person makes a year, I was giving them a memorable experience that would would think about anytime they saw their computer.  That would directly translate into a personal relationship between them and the brand, as after-all, I was just a facilitator of the brand.  Hell, I even had the niece of the founder of my business school invite me home for a family dinner to meet her daughter! At the end of the day, whatever it is I decide to do in life, I want it to involve providing a memorable experience.  Maybe that’s why I became a PADI Divemaster at 18 and Assistant Instructor at 19 – just another outlet to provide an experience.  If I find myself sitting behind a desk, my goals will revolve around the customer as brand loyalty, I feel, is the heart of a corporation’s success.   

I have to thank Sir Richard Branson for allowing me to realize that there are multi-faceted companies out there that believe in their customers and employees; what a wonderful world we live in.  So I have a new goal – meet Sir Richard Branson, if only just to shake his hand and say thanks. And the most beautiful part about it? I know I’m not the only one who feels this way thanks to him.

The Start of a New Life

I woke up this morning feeling a little different.  A sense of freedom overcame me and the first thing I did as I awoke was smile.  The ultimate freedom is upon me – I will finally learn to be myself; brutal honesty is my personal Hammurabi Code.    I still have no idea who “myself” is [yet], but to say I’m ecstatic for this new journey is a gross understatement.

We have some serious catching up to do…

Well… long time no see.  I have been on a whirlwind adventure abroad and honestly, just didn’t care enough to keep up my blog.  ”Wow” you might say, “how honest.”  That is the theme for this blog but more specifically, this post.  I am not going to delve into a ton of detail about living abroad here.  This post is more about self-realization and discovery.  Be warned… it’s quite long – roughly 2500 words. 

In all reality, life in Paris it isn’t much different than life in the States.  Sure, they speak another language, but at the end of the day, that’s really the [only] main difference for me.  This might relate to the fact that I don’t really get attached to much in life – some things could shock somebody else, but I just don’t care enough to, well, care.  I think this is why I’ve never been a victim of culture shock.  

I don’t see myself as a member of a specific culture, I am just a member of.  That maybe be a weird way to describe it (as it is) but it’s hard to put to words. (I’m sure Judy could do it very eloquently but alas, my skills are lacking).  France is France but it is also America, Germany, the Netherlands, Australia, Switzerland, blah blah blah another colonized society.  Yes, I understand… I know about the different customs and traditions (and so-on and so-forth) but the root, the core, of all of these societies is the same.  I don’t feel alien anywhere I go – I just am.  I think this is why, in my future, I want to work and live in various countries.  I don’t see myself the way most people see themselves.  I think I am much simpler than your average person but in a way infinitely more complicated.  I’ll explain (and here comes some serious honestly and the exposing of oneself – perhaps some cojones as well):

I suck as a person.  

Woa, harsh, calm down now.  No, I don’t hate myself, I’m not depressed, etc.  So… why on earth would I start my written self-discovery with the phrase, “I suck as a person.” It’s because I don’t see myself  as a valuable object in the universe (do you realize how small we really are?).  Sure, my actions can be valuable and beneficial to others, but my form, as it stands, is not valuable (except maybe as a human shield).  I do indeed value my life, and the life and well-being of others, but I look at things differently.  

Until recently, my life was based on the idea of comparison.  My voluntary actions occurred (~80-90% of the time) as a direct or indirect reflection of the desires of others.  I did what I thought others liked because they liked it, they thought it was cool.  My parents have always wondered why it is that I have done so many things in my past that never stuck.  On one hand, yes, I was trying to understand what it is I liked.  It has taken so many tries, though, because during the course of every attempt I would be distracted by what others liked.  Like what?  Well… nearly everything I have ever done I have done because it impressed or intrigued others.  I would find myself only doing activities that could be done in public view or in a manner in which others could view/hear about it. I always had to take pictures/film every aspect so I could prove to others what I have done – unfortunately not so I could look back on my time and reflect.  Looking back, it’s kind of cool (to me) that I have done so many different things and I have experienced more than most, but at what cost?  I have yet to find something that I am truly, truly passionate about.  There are things people can’t wait for just a little free time  in their schedule so they can get involved in their passions.  In their spare time, they are designing this, researching that, playing whatever.  I still have not found that thing.  I believe it is cause to me living a farce, a lie, until now.  My own personality has been a façade… I act the way I act to appeal to the desires of others.  Sure, everybody does this to some extent, but I have lived my entire life this way.  I was going through my clothes searching for a pattern that revealed a personal sense of style but all I found were various collections of styles that appeal to various groups people.  I have yet to find the brand M.S.P. (that’s probably why I got a ‘B’ in Brand Management… but I had the most amazing teacher so the blame rests on me).

Because I don’t know who I really am, what I truly enjoy and who I want to be, I have been a horrible friend (at least I think so) to most everybody I have met.  There is where we revert back to the “I suck as a person” comment.  So, break it down for me, Morgan.  Throughout my years, I have befriended those who I thought others liked, friends who would up my “social value.” Did other people think they were cool or uncool?  I would think, “If I am friends with somebody who people don’t think is ‘cool,’ why on earth should I be friends with them?” Moreover, even with my friends, I wouldn’t truly care about what they thought or did because I didn’t (and still don’t) connect with people.  I definitely understand the roles of a friend, so I would abide by/live by those rules (my main one tended to be ‘help thy friend in need’), but  it was a relationship of the mind and not of the heart.  Also, when I was with them, or even when I am by myself, I act in a way that others would like, but not with my own unique personality – I have always been more of a chameleon than an individual.  Luckily, in the past few years, I have come across two friends that I would consider best friends.  Although we don’t regularly keep in touch, I do care for them  when I am with them and enjoy my time.  That’s what’s so interesting to me.  When I am with somebody, I can have the time of my life, but once they are out of direct contact, they are out of my mind completely.  It’s as if that page has been turned and who cares if they were to show up in the next chapter.

When I move around and travel, I don’t even try to keep in touch with those who may have even been my “best friend” because honestly (and truly sadly), I don’t really miss them.  When I think about it, I don’t really miss anything.  Hell, I haven’t had an honest cry in many years. It all relates to the Morgan Disconnect Syndrome, where one can co-exist in a seemingly normal way, but only by actively imitating social norms because they lack the social connect with other people and experiences.  

I can’t help but remember Freshman year at American University.  I was such a tool (and have been until I admitted to myself who I really was just a few days ago).  I remember specifically one friend who went by the name of Tessie E.  I used to wonder why after both of us pledging [a Fraternity and Sorority] second semester we no longer communicated.  I always blamed her for turning into a shallow sorority girl not wanted to maintain friendships.  Wow, what a naïve reaction.  I actually have no idea what kind of person she is now – for all I know I could have been right.  I don’t think so, though.  I blame myself for our lack of further contact.  Looking back on my [platonic] relationship with her, as with many others, I realized how much effort she put in.  So many times I see new friends putting in the effort to solidify a new, solid, friendship yet I fail to return the favor.  She would stop by my room often just to sit down and talk, hang out.  How often did I go up to her room just to see how her day went? 0.  Yes, 0 times.  There is no excuse for that.  Did I ever let her know how much I appreciated her friendship and her efforts?  Not really.  Maybe just the one time I posted an advertisement of a Zales diamond ring on my cork-board saying that we will get married if we are still single by the time we are 28 (I’ve luckily always had a good memory).  I was almost always the taker, not the giver (during platonic encounters ).  At the end of the day, our respective lives aren’t really harmed by our lack of continuing friendship.   But probably once a week, I think of this example as the paradigm for all of my past friendships.  Every time I think of it, I want to call her and apologize.   Honestly, a friendship probably won’t redevelop but it doesn’t need to.  But, I do have to thank her for opening my eyes.  Because of my lack of continuing friendship with a person whom I held in very high regard, I have come to acknowledge my shortcomings.  I can now ask, “Why was I so selfish in my relationships.”  Now I know that it is because of my disconnect.  Now that I recognize it, I am able change it.   

(As a side note, if she ever needed help, I would be there in a heartbeat.  It’s odd how I have always believed in the unwritten code of ‘one must to help somebody they know who is in need.’  It doesn’t fit in with the rest of my personality so I have been trying to understand it.)

Back to comparison: I used to only want the best things because I thought that with money came respect.  If my clothes were better than theirs, my car, my whatever.  Money doesn’t buy respect  or happiness (although it can help), and I am finally realizing that.  I am finally learning to understand and respect the simpler things in life as my brother so wonderfully does.  

I always cared about others’ opinions way above my own.  Why would I buy X instead of Y? What was my opinion on the matter? I personally certainly didn’t care.  But what did Joe Blo (or now “Joe the Plumber”) think? That’s what’s important.  

People I didn’t know, strangers, had more control over my life than I did.  The way I would act in a queue was completely different than how I would act outside it.  But I would never see these people again! Why would I buy a certain book?  So I could learn the information or be seen learning the information? Too many times it was the latter.  I would never meet or see these people again!  Who am I trying to impress, and more importantly, why?!  WHO CARES.  It’s funny… The only thing I truly cared about next to my family was what people thought of me… I always forgot to care about me as I thought about me.  My personal opinion never carried any weight within my internal discussion.  I would change how I thought to appeal to the majority.  I would always compare who I seemed to others and would change it accordingly [to fit in].  How are my clothes to theirs?  Do they know my status as a person in the social hierarchy? blah blah blah, let’s be real… who the fuck cares.

It is because of this that I have no idea who I am.  All I know is that I like to teach things and be in a leadership position.  (But then again, do I like to teach because I like to spread the wealth of knowledge or because I am automatically put in a position of control/power/respect over others).  I don’t know, but I hope it’s the former.  I know that I talk too much, but now I know it’s because I want to show social value (which I thought turned into respect and admiration – how wrong).  I like to help people, but then again, it relates to the same question I have with teaching.  

At the end of the day, people want to be liked, I get that.  I know the things I am going through are not uncommon – perhaps just my degree of saturation.  Through writing this very honest, deep and public post, I have thrown my internal struggle outward; outward to a place I can understand and deal with it.  It is now that I am able to move forward.  I now recognize my problems and almost like the flip of a switch, feel like a different person.  Honesty is the best policy, and by being honest with those around me, I can develop and evolve into a wonderful person.  

In a sense, the freedom of not connecting is one of the biggest cages one can find them-self in, but now… now I am on my road to personal discovery.

I apologize to those I have hurt or been inattentive to in my past.  Especially my friends.  I will work harder now, and I hope you’ll forgive me for the lack of attentiveness. 

I feel a sense of freedom now.  I feel more of a free spirit.  I am more open to accepting other people and philosophies than ever before.  A key has been turned, and my cage has been opened. 

Much love for those who have been around me through these 20 years, especially my family.  Much love.  

Paris in a nutshell..

First off, I have to summarize Paris in a personal list of “5 Things You See When You are In Paris…”

We have:

1. Dog Shit

Paris is full of dog shit.  The term “walking around” probably originated in Paris, as when one walks, they don’t walk straight… they walk around all the dog shit.

2. Cheese

As a French taxi driver told me yesterday, “There is more cheese than day in year”

3. Bread

When you walk around, you see and smell bread everywhere… Gorgeous women walking (very quickly, and around the dog shit) eating 14 inch long baguette sandwiches… Men carrying 5 fresh baguettes from his local “boulangerie”… something one would never see in the States.

4. Wine

Bordeaux, 2005.

5. LEGS!

I would say that 80 percent of all women I have seen here have amazing legs… this is why French men are so unhappy… there is nothing but beautiful women around but all they do is stare out the window on the metro like a Marine doing the “1,000 yard stare.”   French women are so hard to approach.  I’ll find a secret – next to French, that is my educational priority.

Stepping away from “Top 5″ lists for now, I have noticed another core of Parisian culture – Passion.  I say Passion with a capital P to emphasize the various natures of passion expressed here in France (well, at least Paris).  Yesterday, I was sitting out at a cafe eating some escargot (so good, by the way) and enjoying a nice Coca Light when a homeless Frenchman started heckling all of the customers.  This guy, let’s call him Pierre (hello, stereotype), would walk around yelling at pedestrians, then walk into my (oh la la, my) cafe and ask for a cigarette or water.  Some nice girls sitting next to me offered him a smoke, so he went back to the street corner (which was directly facing the front of the restaurant).  While trying to enjoy a nice afternoon in France, I was berated (along with everybody else sitting outside) with constant insults and political ramblings coming from his verbal menagerie (a little french history right there).  This man was passionate about being crazy, and our cafe manager was passionate about letting him be crazy – somewhere else.  The manager stormed out of the cafe and kicked Pierre’s bottle of alcohol with such force Ronaldinho would stand up and scream GOOOALL.  He then threw Pierre’s “travel bag” to the other side of the street… then proceeded to do the same with Pierre.  This man was passionate about letting his customers enjoy their Steak Tartare in peace (plus we all got a free show).

Story Two:

I’ll keep this short.  Man and woman in sushi restaurant.  Vocal barrage courtesy hot girlfriend.  Exit girlfriend.  Man ponders.  Stands up.  Stands outside front door of sushi restaurant.  Screams (in French) “Baby I’m sorry I never want to lose you.” Return girlfriend.  Silence at table.  Food comes.  Finish half of food.  Still silence.  Man gives woman look of “So sorry baby, I will always be there for you.” 1 minute later, woman sits on mans lap and cuddles in tiny chair….

..Even by the time I finish my food (which arrived about 10 minutes after theirs), they are still cuddling in this tiny chair… not talking, just passionately holding each-other.  

One has to understand that when it comes to food and love, books cannot explain the true passion and devotion the French have for said subjects.  In LA, it seems hard to find people who are truly passionate about something because they are actually passionate - where they don’t just put up a façade for the public to see.

 After being here only three weeks, I can definitely see myself taking a job in Paris when I graduate.  Let’s see how my emotions change over these next two and a half mois.

 

[Listening to: The sound of my fingers passionately dancing on the keyboard]