Girl Drink Drunk

Girl Drink Drunk

Everyone needs some kind of a refuge. A place away from home where they can go periodically to slow down, unplug and recharge their serenity levels. When I lived in Colorado, my refuge was probably the same as every other Colorado resident - some place at a higher elevation, up in the mountains, on a trail, near a lake or a river.These days, my refuge is much different. When I came to meet Olivier in France in 2005, it was my second trip to France, but was the first time I'd ever seen any of the country outside of Paris, which is the best part.I spent the first week of my trip at Olivier's apartment in Montmartre, (which a year later, would morph into our apartment) and the second week, we hit the road. We stopped in places like Blois and Dijon. We walked through castles and ate in restaurants. We stopped among the volcanic landscape of Auvergne to meet...
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The Minutiae of Carniverous Plants & Road Trips

The Minutiae of Carniverous Plants & Road Trips

"I think writers need windows on a view to remind them that a whole world is out there, not the minutiae with which they might be dealing on a close scale." - Anne McCaffrey.It just occurred to me that it has been a little while since I've posted anything here.Of course, that isn't because I've run out of things to say - I've actually got a list of topics sitting next to me that I'll be bitching about in the future, but the thing is... I just don't feel like it right now.I don't read many other blogs.  The reason being, I can't stand to read about the minutiae of other people's lives.  I admit, I just don't fucking care.  Blogs written by new mothers about each time their brand new larvae shits, blogs supposedly written by someone's fucking cat or anything written by someone who has absolutely nothing to say, but just needs attention from strangers on...
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Landing on The Big Mound

Landing on The Big Mound

Okay... so, after the feline vomit, bovine ass-slides and canine crap, we made our way down south to the coast until we reached the resort of La Grande Motte, which I learned means "The Big Mound." Big mound of what, I have no idea. All three of us were so happy to arrive, that we all took part in a raucous dance of joy.After all of that nonsense, we decided to head out to a pizza place nearby to stuff ourselves with pizza, rosé wine, sangria, fried calamari and shrimp. We decided to work off a few calories after our display of gluttony, so we stopped to shoot a few zombies.After the long car ride from Parensol to La Grande Motte, the dancing jackasses, the gluttonous feast and zombie killing, everyone had pretty much had their asses kicked for the day and had rendered themselves useless for the rest of the evening. ...
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