OKAY so I started translating this GREAT 49 minute interview with the MOR Troupe in Russia (where they currently are), and it was amazing like, the mystery of Mikele's wristrags was explained and Flo saying he's better than Harry Potter and they talked about wanting to go to other cities and they were giggling and being precious AND I PAUSED IT 20 MINUTES IN TO MY TRANSLATION TO GO GET SOME RICE AND WHEN I CAME BACK THE VIDEO HAD BEEN REMOVED BY THE USER

So

Here is a translation of the first half of the conversation, complete with commentary on how cute they are by me.

Read more... )

And that's where I paused it to go get rice. JUST AS IT WAS GETTING GREAT! Anyway, we now know where Mikele lives, what the story is behind the wristrags, that Flo is a LOTR fan and a Potterhead, and THAT THERE WILL PROBABLY BE MORE OF THESE SYMPHONIC MOR CONCERTS IN THE FUTURE.


ETA: THE REST HAS BEEN FOUND!

Read even more... )

And Melissa is about to talk about her album when the video ends.

TADA I DID IT!

ETA again: In a quest to drive me over a cliff into an abyss of madness, someone has found another twenty minutes of this interview.

Read the most... )
Applause, it's over, I finished translating this damn interview and IF ANYONE ELSE COMES UP WITH ANOTHER HOUR-LONG VIDEO OF UNSEEN FOOTAGE I WILL FIND THEM AND THREATEN THEM
The Troupe says "bye-bye" into the camera and waves.
lesmisloony: (lol amadeus)
I AM GOING TO WRITE DOWN THIS DREAM.

Okay, so it started out with Aidan Turner (you may know him as Mitchell from Being Human or the dick from Desperate Romantics or, more recently, the one hot dwarf in the Hobbit movie) showing up at my house and apparently we were old friends and I was actually the person to suggest him to an agent who got him a job as an extra in the LM film (he isn't in rl just to be clear) and later as that dwarf. Anyway, it also turns out that I had had a big crush on him before he left to be famous (makes sense) but here's the part that I find out that he also had a crush on me. So we're about to have dream!sex but he's a terrible kisser and I have morning breath, so in the end we kind of roll apart and walk away from each other, which is pretty disappointing.

Well, then I remember that today is the school musical at my old high school, and that the new head of the pit band is Nuno. So I go over to the school and find it set up for this little play, with Nuno sitting at the piano all ready to go. For some reason there are two stages with two audiences, and the one at the back of the room is just for the pit band, and the one at the front is just for whatever this play will be. I start to go to the pit band one but realize what the deal is and go to the other little theatre instead. While I'm sitting on these high bleachers, Nuno comes up to us and stares straight at me and asks if *someone* could come play second piano in the pit. I direct him toward these kids who went to high school with me because I feel animosity and am worried that Nuno is just trying to prove that he's a better pianist than I am. Then, while we're waiting for the show to start, I start wandering between the two theatres in a big circle. When I come back to the room where the show itself will be, it's filled with water so I decide to swim through it, but I get self-conscious that Nuno will think I'm a bad swimmer.

On the other side of the water is the performance space, and guess who the show is about--Flo! Who has moved to my hometown for some reason. In fact, the show is just about Flo wandering through his daily life. Later someone asks if it's good and someone else answers that if you already love Flo it'll be an amazing show, but if you don't know who he is you won't care at all. I go back to the bleachers where one of my high school bffs is sitting and I quickly tell her that since Flo is my biological father, that means I've accidentally committed incest. Because apparently in this dream me and Flo had hit the sheets at some point in the past. Also apparently I was adopted, because I had a photo and Flo and... Bérénice... hanging out together, so in this dream they were my biological parents? NEVER MIND THAT FLO IS ONLY EIGHT YEARS OLDER THAN ME. Also there was a lot of sex-related stuff in this dream which is pretty unusual for me but not disagreable.

So for a short while in the dream I was standing in for Flo as the "play" began, and basically I walked up to the front yard of his house loudly commenting on things in the way I assumed he would have done. When I got to the front yard there were skittles and candy eggs scattered around, so I started doing an Easter egg hunt which I guess was part of the show. There was also a big weird hole in front of the front steps leading up to the house, which I guess led into a basement, but it was gone later. There was also lunch set up on this picnic table, and apparently lunch was to be a glass jar filled with pasta. There was also a plate with a bit of butter on it, but there was a bunch of hair in the butter so ew. Well, I heard a cat calling for help inside the house, so I went in and found a ton more jars of pasta in the entryway to the house, and in two of them cats were trapped in the pasta. I was surprised because to my memory Flo only had one cat, this mean calico that he got to keep him company right after he moved to my hometown, but here were two adorable tiny kittens.

I freed the kittens from the pasta, and one of them (a talking kitten I guess?) took me on a tour of the house. Everywhere we looked there were more tiny cats, and by the time I reached the front room I had counted eleven. I looked out the window and saw Flo playing baseball, which I guess was part of the weird play he was doing, and I said something about how he was the best person ever. The kitten disagreed with me, saying he was actually a terrible master. I looked out the back window and saw my parents taking laps on a walking track that passed just behind the house. I could tell that they were all mad because they thought I was off somewhere losing my virginity (lol) so I called out to them and complimented them on the Snuggies they were wearing. My mom had a pink one and my dad had a blue one. They saw that I was fully clothed and not lying on my back somewhere and perked up. But then they came into the house, which made me uncomfortable because Flo didn't even know I was in there, and I was worried he'd be freaked out to see that that one fan (I guess we've dropped the idea that he's my biological father and we'd slept together) had broken into his hosue.

Meanwhile the kitten wanted to show me a hiding place where she thought another cat might be. There was a little water statue thing in the living room, and when she pressed a button it, like, cracked open dramatically and the water drained out and a big plant rose from beneath the floor. The kitten, who was in a human body at this point, started pulling the plant's pods apart because she thought that mean calico was sleeping in one of them. But all she kept finding were Jack's magic beans. Meanwhile, my grandmom and my parents were making dinner in Flo's kitchen and I was like GUYS WHEN FLO FINISHES PLAYING BASEBALL HE'S GOING TO COME IN HERE AND BE REALLY WEIRDED OUT. And then I finally woke up.

Idk, just wanted to share.
I'm back!

Protip everyone: if you're having trouble breathing AT ALL, go ahead and head on over to your nearest hospital. Turns out what I had was a pulmonary embolism, meaning sitting for hours with my legs crossed (and taking birth control) had caused a blood clot in my legs which had then travelled up and lodged itself in the aorta thing that leads from my heart to my lungs, all but blocking the blood to my lungs. And, trying to be a champ or whatever the hell I was doing, I thought I'd just wait it out. If that clot had gone any higher in my body I might have actually suffered brain damage. And apparently my body is a damn trooper, because the fact is I first noticed a little bit of chest pain SUNDAY, but I thought it was just being out of shape. Tuesday night I fainted and from that point forward breathing hurt. Wednesday I was convinced I would be fine (I think I have a disorder or something, but I remember when my dad broke his foot a couple years ago he also insisted he was fine and limped around the house for a day and a half before he finally let us take him to the ER). When I woke up Thursday and the problem hadn't changed AT ALL my boyfriend convinced me to call the hospital.

They sent a doctor over and he didn't know what the deal was, so he called us up an ambulance. It took them AN HOUR to get to the place. I grabbed my purse and jacket and headed out, assuming they'd give me a pill or something and I'd be back online before dinner.

When they first started saying I'd have to be in the hospital for "quelques jours" [several days] I actually burst into tears. I was really freaked out for the first day or so. They kept me in ICU for a day or two, then moved me out early because they needed the room. I had a room that was bigger than Vincent's entire apartment, but unfortunately the TV wasn't free and there was no wifi, so Vincent brought me my laptop and (new) external hard drive, and I spent the rest of my Parisian hospital adventure watching Torchwood, RTD Who, Horrible Histories, Conan, and videos of me and my friends goofing off in the dorms.

I wasn't allowed out of the bed until Monday, meaning I had to use a bedpan. When they did let me up I couldn't believe how utterly delighted I was to go to a toilet on my own. My whole bed confinement had consisted of me avoiding drinking water and holding it in in order to spare myself the embarassment of ringing for the nurse to put that damn thing under my ass and having to essentially SOIL MYSELF and ughhhh gross. Luckily I never did numbah two in the bedpan... I held that in till Monday evening when they let me stand up.

I could see the top half of the Eiffel Tower from the window of my hospital room, which was pretty cool. Honestly it was kinda nice to stay in a clean, quiet environment for a few days with three average meals brought to me and no one being surprised when I just stayed in bed watching movies all the time. The downside was all the needles that were coming at me. I had to get a shot morning and night with this horrible stuff that burned like HELL. They had to thin my blood so no more clots will form, and I'm on a pill that I'll be taking for at least six months. Every morning they woke me up around 6 or 7 to draw blood, but since I have deep veins there was this one hot dumb nurse guy who could never find them and would just dig around in there and OW SIR.

Basically, my thighs and stomach are covered in bruises and puncture marks from the shots, my inner elbow crease thingies and the backs of my hands are also bruised and punctured from blood being drawn, and WHY ARE IV'S A GOOD IDEA?!? My IV hand is still all bruised and cripped and OW AGAIN.

Anyway, I'm doing my best to never cross my legs though it turns out that is my absolute default sitting position. They say as long as I'm on this medication it should be impossible for new clots to form, but they're also edgy about me taking a plane in less than twenty days. I didnt mention my eleven hour train ride to them at all... nothing the doctors say will make me change my flight. I will DIE if I have to stay here much longer. I am such a homesick motherfucker, like you can't even understand. I dreamed I was home multiple times over the past week and my heart broke every time I woke up and realized it wasn't true. I'll wear the fancy tights they're going to give me and I'll get up and walk a bit once an hour or so and I assume I'll be fine.

Oh, I'm never allowed to take birth control again, by the way. So... buckle up for my period to come back in full force. I did not miss the days of crippling cramps and my sudden urges to punch everyone who looked at me.

The hardest part is that I had to miss stagedooring the avant-premier of 1789, and of course Flo was there. So there's a really good chance I've missed my last ever chance to see him. I sent him a message on his myspace saying that if he one day realized I had disappeared it wasn't because I stopped following his career but because I got hospitalized and then went back to the US, but after sending it I saw he hasn't logged onto that page since Valentine's Day. So I think I've lost him. I'm going to try hanging out at the train station next Friday and Saturday in hopes of catching him or Mikele on the way to Lyon for the foot concert, but it's either that or they happen to show up for 1789 a day I'm there...
Loony: oh i was gonna say, i was stagedooring from 11 to 8pm today
Loony: there was a free concert of 1789 at the PDS this morning and it was so so great
Mommy: I thought you were getting tired of the drama in the whole stage dooring scene
Loony:: i'm really going to miss music i love sung by actors i love surrounded by pushy fans
Loony: today was the day i knew where to find mikele though
Mommy: There is nothing more moving than a live show
Mommy: I cry when the curtain opens
Mommy: Then I cry again when the music starts
Loony: after the concert i went to a famous theatre called the olympia to find mikele
Loony: i got there around 1pm and the show started at 8pm
Loony: there were already 50 people waiting
Loony: and as the day went on there were more and more
Loony: mikele showed up late for his rehearsal and just pushed through the crowd and i was too far away to see him
Loony: and now i have no guarantee i'll ever see him or flo again
Loony: so i went home and flopped on my couch and cried because i'm realizing that there is stuff i'll miss
Loony:: i mean i'll probably see them when 1789 opens, but they won't want to do photos because they're there to see the show
Loony: and i still have a dream that they'll come to new york when/if the american version opens
Mommy: Maybe you can see them there
Loony: and after that?
Loony: i know it's silly but i actually love them
Loony: like i care about losing them in my life significantly more than if i were to lose like
Loony:[the name of a person i took out to not be offensive should s/he ever see this blog]
Loony: or even [someone else]
Loony: you guys and kelley are more important than them though dont worry
Mommy: Thanks
Loony: and flossie
Mommy: Even when she pees?
Loony: as long as it's not on my head [one time when i was asleep the dog jumped onto my bed and was so excited to discover that I was up there that she peed everywhere]
Loony: mikele and flo have never peed on my head
Mommy: Flo and Mikele never pee when they see you. There is no joy in that
Loony: no but flo is all tease-y and precious and ive never seen him light up like that for any other fan
Loony: and mikele is the only person like mikele in the whole world
Loony: kelley says when i miss flo i can paint a beard on her
Mommy: She might get tired of that
Loony: tough
Mommy: Every morning you will make her late cause she will wake up with a new beard painted on during the night
Loony: people will wonder why flo is always asleep in the pictures i post on facebook
Loony: and propped into a sitting position
Mommy: That would be weird
I think I'm just gonna go home. I won't pay the €200-300 to get that visa renewed; I'll just hang out either at this house or at my boyfriend's for a month and a half so I can see 1789 and maybe Flo and Mikele, then I'll go home before Halloween. After Christmas I'll move in with Kelley and get a job with her temp agency and apply for the spring semester at NYU.

I'm giving up on seeing London or Vienna or Cardiff, but I've run out of steam. Someone tell Máté and Billie Piper I love them.

I still haven't told that family no, but there's no way I have another year of au pairing in me. I'll talk to the family I'm living with and see how they feel about me staying, then I'll talk to the boyfriend, then I'll text everyone I know and make sure I tell them all goodbye.

I think I'll use visa stress and homesickness and timidity as my excuses to ditch this family rather than tell her that I couldn't handle those kids in my burned-out state. Maybe I'll offer to babysit until she finds someone else to bring in a little extra cash. I'm worried about my finances. I have to close my bank account.

Really? I just want to go home for a while and have a break from this paperwork nightmare and buttered noodles for every meal.
I think I must be REALLY homesick.

I've started questioning this whole thing. If it wasn't for the musicals scene and my obsession with stalking Florent Mothe after concerts I would be giving serious though to making a big change. I would be seriously thinking about applying to a grad school in England or something. I would be thinking about following a career path that led into publishing, like copyediting or proofreading or something.

It's been a full year since I was in the States, and in that time I've been in a situation where I lost a lot of confidence in myself, became convinced that I was socially disabled, and was unable to make friends that fill the hole left by the dorm girls. I was supposed to be rooming with Kelley in New York right now, living in a shitty apartment and working a part-time job while I reflected on what I really wanted out of life.

I'm so skeeved out by the lack of separation between church and state and the weird obsession with having the perfect body that I see in American culture that I don't know if I can go back. But I also don't know if I could really make close, bff type friends out of French people who had such different childhoods than mine. I don't know if my French will ever be good enough to get into school.

I guess I'm just really lonely and I feel really inadequate. Maybe I can get my foot in the door working in translation for a publishing house here in France (after two years of a master's program), and if I'm still unsure whether I'm happy I could try applying to one of the millions of companies in New York. Or I could apply to grad schools in New York for next year, and if I don't get into the French ones I have a backup plan that won't require me to au pair for ANOTHER year.

I'm not sure I remember what it is I would miss about France if I went back to the States, besides the obvious political climate stuff and Flo. I think it's just coming down to a cultural thing between me and other French people, and frustration with trying to communicate in a foreign language. Why am I doing this?

This is a burned-out post.

I don't want to be an au pair again.
lesmisloony: (amazing Richmond)
Okay, update

So, about a month ago I went to Lille to stalk down the MOR Troupette for their teeny reunion.

Read more... )


Okay, I have to deal with my job for a bit, so I'll tell my second and slightly less-interesting Lille story later.

:D
So I decided to recount some of my Troupe stalking stories that have happened so far in 2012!

Read more... )

So. Excuse me while I lie down on the floor and die.

I love this country.
Jobwise I am kicking ass and taking names.  Well, one name specifically: Nilou the Nightmare Child.  Since the family tore me apart last week I have put my damn self back together with a full burst of Place je passe glory.  I am juggling and going the extra mile and trying to battle my tendency to "do it in a minute" which results in piles of laundry in my room and chores slipping my mind.  It's already super effective: just now when I changed into my pyjamas I hung my dress up and put my tights away in a drawer and folded my sweater and put it back on the shelf.  Two weeks ago you can bet your ass all that would have been shoved into a pile on the edge of the bed.  And it wasn't even an effort: I'm typing this out because when I sat down just now and noticed I had put my pyjamas on (um, yikes) I was like shit what did I do with the dress and then I remembered putting it on the hanger without a second thought.  If after an entire life of letting things pile and pile I can finally learn to get shit done promptly, I bet I can do anything with my future.

Secondly, Nilou the Nightmare Child loves me more every time I make an entry about him.  I look back with a sympathetic smile on the early days when he refused to put on his jacket and pitched a fit in the halls of the school or screamed and clawed at me when I tried to get him into the bath.  Yesterday morning he refused to eat breakfast because I wasn't at the table yet and refused to get dressed until I came upstairs to help him pick out his socks.  Today I was able to put him down for a nap with no fighting, just a lot of playing when he should have been resting, and when he woke up instead of crying and calling for maman he called for me and then asked when maman would be home.  When I said soon he asked if I could come play marbles with him.  Today at lunch Mimi asked who he thought was nicer, me or Shantelle, and when the mother's and my protests of "Oh no, no Mimi, you don't ask a question like that, that's so rude" died down, Nilou very seriously muttered "Ehreen."  I know the parents will write it off as Oh well, he's older this year, Oh well, Ehreen spends more time with him, but screw that.  I am better with the kids than she is.  I'm not better with responsibility, but I'm better at bonding with them and relating to them so HMPH.  And I also think I'm better than the parents at setting down rules and making them follow through with things, but hey.

And speaking of the parents, this evening when the mom came in and saw that, as with every day this week, I had done all the chores necessary and dinner was on the stove and the kids were already in their pyjamas, she literally danced around the kitchen saying "parfait" and I'm happy and clapping her hands and smiling at me.  HA.  HA HA.  YEAH I'LL SHOW YOU TO DOUBT ME... SELF.  I'LL SHOW YOU ALL.  I CAN *DO* SHIT AND I WILL *NOT* BE DEFEATED AFTER COMING ALL THIS WAY.

Socially, I'm faltering.  I've made a few tentative steps toward making a few tentative steps toward making friends, but it's intimidating and gross to have to deal with it alone.  If I could find some kind of a club thingy to join that might work.  I've had a lot of trouble with the French friends I've made because I don't trust ANY of the French fans except one who is several years older than me and lives in a different city.  The others I may love but am still suspicious of.  I think the easiest would be to make friends with Americans or other such foreigners who are living here.  They could give me advice and I could know how to read them.  I'm a really good judge of character but that radar gets damaged when it has to cross a language barrier.  We were told last year as students to try to avoid foreigners and mingle with locals, but now that I'm trying to become a foreign local I see finding a group of people with a similar background as a pretty good idea.

Romatically, I'm withering.  The longest I'd ever gone without hearing from him was five days, and it has now been twelve.  I know I could do better but I can't even find normal friends, so how am I supposed to find someone as attractive as him who is also less difficult to deal with?  All of the emotional romance stuff is gone from the equation now and it's just boiled down to attraction, which I think is better considering how unavailable he is, but the problem is I still don't have a plan B.  It took me five months to break him in and we were pals before that... that's a lot of work for only two hours of clumsy payoff.  I don't even know any other attractive men, famous ones notwithstanding.  But I can't keep throwing myself at him and letting him think it's okay to walk all over me.  I am one of the only people left who knows about the situation who doesn't think he's a giant douchebag and that makes me feel terrible for making a big show of slamming the door once he was out of earshot and then checking every day to make sure I left it unlocked.  I took in the welcome mat but I didn't hide the key.

So I did what I do best and turned to the weird innate superstition in me.  One month from the last time he texted me is December 4th, which is also the anniversary of the first day I really noticed him as a person.  Funny how that works.  I will wait and stop checking my phone until that day.  If he hasn't noticed that he is letting something that most humans of the stereotypically male persuasion could only fantasize about wander out of his life through sheer idiocy by then--by which I mean, if he hasn't texted me by then--I *will* make a real decision.  Maybe I'll be so angry at him by then that I won't want to ever speak to him again.  Maybe I'll convince myself that he needs a long message explaining my feelings.  I don't know.  I'm going to wait.  Having a goal in mind makes it less open-ended, which makes the silence less final, which makes it less scary.  It also means I don't need to fret or try to make a decision for several weeks, during which time I can work on that whole social life thing, and who knows, maybe I'll find one of the jillions of people out there who are better at life than he is.

Today I was thinking about the first time I heard Grenade by Bruno Mars and how I immediately thought he was singing about my love for Florent Mothe.  I then realized with great satisfaction that I would NOT catch a grenade for my Frenchman.  I honestly believe, without trying to sound snotty, that between the two of us, I'm the one who would be missed by more people.  Now if it *was* Florent Mothe you can bet your ass that there will be pieces of flabby American all over the damn place and one very shocked French rock star picking pasty flesh out of his beard for a few hours.  But for my Frenchman... no.  I would not catch a Grenade for ya, and you won't do the same.

There.  Update.
Mozart l'Opéra Rock gives me so many emotions.

I listen to it all the time still, as I have done for two and a half years now. But whenever I stop and think about an aspect of seeing the show live I get all gaspy in my lungs and wonder if I'm about to cry. It's not a sad feeling really, it's just kind of an absurd amount of love.

I've had this nagging desire to watch videos of Flo talking to me at the stage door lately, but I know as soon as I hear his speaking voice again I'll have too many heart spasms to deal with.

November 7th is getting closer and closer. What if I don't get to see Flo or Mikele? What if they don't recognize me? What if I don't have time to speak to them? What should I wear? How quickly can I get there?

When I see the 3D movie I'll probably weep the whole time. Not because I'm sad that I miss the show, but because I love it. It changed so many things about who I am and it made me so much better.

I remember when I used to think it was good fun but silly. Now I tell myself I'm a widow because it's over.

I'm not upset that it's over. I don't have money or time anymore, so I couldn't follow it and knowing it was happening without me would kill me. I'm so satisfied with what I accomplished last semester. I miss it, but I'm ready to move on.

I'm also ready to own a DVD of this 3D version. I want MY version of MOR, I want the Flonytail and Laurie and "Don Juan, reprends-toi!". I want Yamin's adlibs and I want Jonathan and Bénédicte and I want it to all be clear, not one of my videos with my giggling underneath and my camera's terrible inability to focus.

This is a pointless entry. I just wanted to say I love Mozart l'Opéra Rock for those of us who forgot.

Urgh.

Aug. 16th, 2011 10:13 pm
Went shopping with Kelley today and bought three dresses, three bras, tights, and socks.  Good things to have.  Then we did a photoshoot.  I was doing a good job all day untilllll the photoshoot, when I basically started pouting and bitching because I couldn't take myself seriously enough to pose for any of the pictures and I felt really self-conscious and horrible about it.  I then proceeded to loathe every picture when I saw it in the camera.

I put the pictures on facebook anyway because Kelley made me, and once they were online they weren't so bad.  Here are my least favorite pictures of each outfit we took pictures of:

Read more... ) 

Anyway, that was my day.  I like my new clothes and stuff.  I just wish I liked me more consistently.
 Two options: sublet and move out (all the good times with Kelley that I'm supposed to be having this fall...!) or find someone to split the room.

Splitting the room means sharing the closet and the bathroom with a total stranger (granted they won't be a stranger for long...) and at night probably sleeping on my futon in the living room.  Right now I'm sleeping on the futon but in my bedroom so it's not a big difference.  The prime candidate right now is a young man who apparently sounds like a gay man on the phone or a Swiss doctor who doesn't understand banks.

The other option is for me to move into a "converted den" in the house of a friend of a coworker and sublease my half of this apartment.  Right now there's one prospect to take my half of the lease in August, a girl from craigslist.

The converted den is cheaper and closer to work and the rest of the world, meaning it won't take me two hours to make the trip to work which would only be about fifteen minutes if I had access to a car, but my roommates would be two guys who are total strangers.

I'm so frustrated by all this I haven't had time to mope about how Patrice apparently doesn't read messages on facebook anymore (or he hates me) or how much I miss France and Frenchmen or the fact that in less than a month MOR is closing and, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, THE WORLD WILL BE OVER.

So maybe it's a good thing to immediately be launched into this madness without time to languish.

Also, I've already picked up two shifts this weekend from coworkers.  Looks like I'll be working quite a bit more than I'm scheduled to!  Two hours of bus nonsense or not, I will NEVER turn a shift down.

As soon as I get a response from one of the fans I messaged I'm going to send five dancer dolls to France to be given to ANYONE IN THE TROUPE AT ALL, along with a note telling the other dancers to please send me an address so I can finish a doll for each of them too because they're all fantastic.  Then I can open for business knitting dolls for people with money.

My book thing is coming along okay.  I'm up to chapter two and I've wrangled a way to denote the difference between someone speaking French and someone speaking English without having to write every sentence twice.  Today I narrated the details of my entire relationship with Patrice Maktav, starting with the doll-giving and ending with the hug and free ticket my last day in France, to a friend on fb chat and it was such an epic story that I forgot it was true.  She thought it was over so many times and would be like WOW YOU'RE LIFE IS AMAZING and I'd be like BUCKLE UP KIDDO WE AREN'T EVEN AT THE GOOD PART YET.

And I realised again as I was telling the story that he's SUCH a good guy and I so often misrepresented him due to my crazy (cough cough Lyon entry about how much he hated me cough).  I was worried he'd come off looking like a total ass in my book, but I expect he'll be okay.

The thing that scares me about just how much information is going into this story is the fact that if it gets published there is like a one hundred percent chance that, if he ever hears it exists, Florent Mothe will read this book.  And he will know all the things that I'm not even comfortable telling my mother.  Haha.  (She's gonna find out too if the book gets published...)  Or, as the girls on the Florum so perfectly put it, "I was looking yesterday... in the bookstore... and by accident... I found your book?"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I'm going to shut up before I have to lock this entry.

So!  Things!  1.  Find out if that craigslist girl is worthy of living with Kelley, find out if I'm okay with living with two strangers, and also find out if letting a gay man take my room is a better and more plausible option.  2. Mail those dancer dolls.  3. Take some doll orders and get to knitting.  4. Go to the career services place on campus to get my résumé fixed up so I can put out more job applications and stuff.

FIVE: RUN AWAY TO FRANCE, FIND PATRICE MAKTAV, FORCE HIM TO MARRY ME, AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER IN NERDY BLISS.
  

I printed this out and autographed it.  And on the back I wrote "Hey Florent Mothe. I was going to print out a Floto (that means a picture of you, by the way) but I realized this one is much more interesting. And I autographed it for you, so you have to treasure it.  Anyway thanks again for always being awesome onstage and off.  There aren't many people like you out there.  I'll try to keep trolling your fanpage and the second you cross the ocean I'll probably hunt you down, so in a way it isn't goobye.  See you on the internet! <3 Erin (P.S. - Can you tell Patrice I say hi?)"

Yeah I probably should have given that more thought before I started writing it.  I like how last semester I wrote a huge love letter that I angsted over for ages and this semester I was like PEACE OUT.  Haha awww Floflo.  I'm gonna see that man for the last time in a few hours.
Oh Caen, you were a bizarre and unexpected and thoroughly awesome weekend.

Read more... )

And then I went home.

The only thing left for me is Toulouse...
After spending two days with some crazy wonderful German girls stalking the filming of the next series of Merlin at Pierrefonds (yep, I saw Colin and Bradley and the gang IN THE FLESH and then went off to bother Florent Mothe the next day) I swung back by my house in Paris, showered, changed, repacked, and set off for Rouen.
 
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AND THEN I WENT HOME.

THE END.

WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY LESMISLOONY

NOW I NEED TO WRITE ABOUT CAEN.
 Hey hey hey.

I made a filter so I wouldn't annoy everyone.  Also I've really had to lock down my journal more since I suddenly became like the most famous Mozart fan who writes a blog in English about stalking the Troupe everywhere ever.  I'll try not to go off on a rant about how my life isn't real and seriously I can't even believe my own stories even though I'm the person they happen to.

Anyway, so if you haven't seen all the weird conflicted posts lately that relate to my icon and you wish you could, leave me a comment.  And inversely, if you DO see them and you're tired of my wangst and indecision clogging your friends list, leave me a comment.  I won't be offended if you want off the list, so don't hesitate to be honest!

My Rouen saga is halfway complete and will be posted soon.  Today I bullied Flo into commenting on a picture I left on his facebook fanpage which resulted in me getting about ten friend requests and my head exploding a little, since according to his activity he's never ever done that before.  Then I got a random notification that, not to be outdone, Patrice had stalked my facebook and liked a Doctor Who fanvid an American friend had posted for me to watch.  I love my boys.

Anyway.  Let me know about your opinion on that filter!

If you have ever heard anyone say they had the best birthday ever, they are lying.  It is impossible.  Because I had the best birthday ever.  

And last year my friends parked a freaking TARDIS in front of the dorm.

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Ahh.  I love all the things.
 All better?  Or all in my head?  lol what am I doing with my life.

Seriously though it's all better.  But I'm sticking to the theory that Florent Mothe threatened Patrice Maktav's kneecaps because it just makes sense.  And because when I was being all dejected over Maktav not loving on me Floflo was all over me in a tragically non-literal way.  He stopped and talked to me like four times in under an hour.

DEAR DA PONTE.  It should not be easier to spend time with SALIERI than with you.  Quit it.

But seriously though it's all good again and I am sunburned and blistered and SO TIRED but I'm so content that nothing can touch me.

Rennes was really good.

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Voilà!  It was a good weekend and I am a happy fan.
Whatever happened to our love?
I wish I understood
It used to be so nice, it used to be so good...

lol okay.

So as you may have heard, Patrice Maktav broke my heart in Lyon.  And then a few hours later he stomped on it.  He honestly does not know or understand what he has done, but that does not change my melancholy.

But a lot of really good things happened too, and some of them are entirely thanks to Maktav!  So I will not give up on you, Patrice Maktav.  I will simply... I guess I'll just... gah I don't know.  I'm just gonna have to see what happens in Rennes.   I have not really changed my behaviour since Strasbourg, which was when I fell in love with him, and I have definitely not changed my behaviour since Dijon when he was banging on a bus window to wave at me, so I don't know what's gone wrong between us.

Here follows my CR of Lyon.

The best part was when Flo got jealous.

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We're going to Rennes Saturday.  I've already finished two dolls and hope to whip out a third maybe.  We'll see what happens.

But seriously, third party types... did I do something wrong here?  Did I overstep the fan boundaries or something?

January 2017

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