Paris – Page 2 of 8 – Rasmenian detritus

London, Paris, New York… and Longmont

June 23, 2015December 1, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

It all started with laughter and a longing to be somewhere else.I don't miss my hometown. I moved out of Longmont, Colorado in 1994, and never wanted to move back. For me, crossing that town line is like stepping into a dark parallel universe of bad memories. It's a time machine that only goes back to traumatic events; to people who only knew me as the juvenile delinquent offspring of a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. People who said I'd end up as nothing, popping out kids, smoking crack and ending up dead in a ditch. It's the town where a loser who nearly killed me is still frequently seen walking around on the street.I still have some very awesome friends living in Longmont, and while I almost envy their loving view of the place, I simply do not share it.My home life was not as bad or as good as it could have been, but it was difficult. It had a...

Nous Sommes Charlie

January 9, 2015January 9, 2015 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Our little house in the French countryside sits somewhere between Paris and Chartres. Barely visible from the road, it hides in the middle of several tall pine trees where squirrels, pheasants and frogs bounce around doing things that busy animals do. Upstairs, in the attic of our house and in my husband Olivier's home office are several tall stacks of newspapers.Newspapers that look like this:When I moved to Paris in 2006, Olivier had these papers stacked all around our tiny apartment in Montmarte. "What's up with these?" I'd wondered. He told me they were a satirical newspaper, which didn't surprise me at all because he and I met through our mutual love of The Onion. One of the reasons we ended up as a married couple in the first place was due to our love of mockery and funny shit.As time went on, I realized he wasn't just a fan of the newspaper. He was fucking bonkers about it. He...

The Airplane Personality Test

March 14, 2013 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

I hate flying. When I was a kid, I traveled by plane often, as many children of divorced parents do. Back then, it was a fun & exciting adventure. Because I was a wee one traveling alone, I received special attention. The flight attendant would bring me a little plastic pin with wings on it. "A gift from the captain," they'd say.I'd read my books & listen to my Walkman. The person sitting next to me was always nice. Or, at least quiet & polite.Over time, things changed. I got bigger. My legs grew longer. My patience, shorter.I take more international flights now. The airlines have changed, too. Now there's a lot more seats crammed into a single airplane in order to squeeze more money out of every flight.Flying anywhere -- even a 2 or 3-hour flight -- has become a fucking ordeal that one must survive, rather than a fun & exciting adventure. It's no longer the happy beginning...

Awkward Adventures in the Socialized Healthcare of France

August 30, 2012November 23, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Before I even get started, let me warn you that if you get squeamish when it comes to chatter about doctors poking around in lady bits, then this post will not interest, amuse or inform you in any way. You'll likely be too preoccupied with all of your squeamishing to to focus on reading, so... off you go while the rest of us talk.Like a great many people, I've never cared much for going to the doctor. Any doctor. For anything. I'm not afraid of doctors, but in the past, I usually had to feel as though I were at risk of coughing up my aorta, or maybe shitting out a spleen or several yards of intestines. Even when I had broken bones, I was reluctant. I didn't mind carrying my broken wrist with my good arm if the alternative was sitting in the emergency room. A busted eye socket... well, I didn't even go to the hospital. Luckily, I...

I Don’t Live in Paris

February 3, 2012November 24, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

I live in France. I don't live in Paris. I used to live in Paris.People sometimes ask me about something going on in Paris. I can only answer with, "Um... I don't really know the details about that. I don't live in Paris."Occasionally, I'll be asked, "So, how're things in Paris?""Well, fine as far as I know. But, I can only guess because... I don't live in Paris."A little over 6 years ago, I stepped off a plane at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. Olivier was still my husband-to-be & I was not yet Madame Massoud. He fetched me & my Cat at the airport, along with all the possessions I could bring along with me.He took us home, to his apartment in Montmartre. All of you who are either already familiar with the area, or who are Francophile Amelie geeks, know that Montmartre is located in the 18th arrondissement of Paris. For the rest of you, here's a...

Halloween in France

November 3, 2010November 23, 2020 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

France, I love you, I really, do and I will always defend your honor in a bar fight, but please... leave Halloween alone. Before I moved to France, Olivier explained to me that Halloween doesn't really exist here; that a few people will dress up, or do something Halloween-like, but that it is largely an American holiday and that French people don't really give a shit about it. Okay... that's understandable. Especially since French people have their own 'Day of the Dead,' as it were. Many French people do observe the traditions that are at the origins of our Halloween. On November 1st, la Toussaint, or All Saint's Day, French people all over the country are visiting their loved ones in the cemeteries, leaving chrysanthemums on their graves. Many people have the day off from work. It is an actual holiday in France. All the more reason to leave Halloween alone. My first Halloween in France, Olivier and I were living in Paris. We...