Becoming a Germaphobe

Becoming a Germaphobe

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
I used to laugh at germaphobic freaks like me.  I'd see them with their Lysol, alcohol pads & sanitizing gel, talking about "that bug that's been going around" & I would shake my head & laugh.Paranoid freaks.Sitting at my desk, in the office where I worked, I'd watch my coworkers as they passed around a can of Lysol.  "Keep that shit away from me," I'd tell them.  When someone would offer me an alcohol pad to wipe the germs away from the receiver of my phone, I would reply with a "thanks, but I like my phone dirty".I was a drinking, pack-a-day smoker, happily surrounded by millions of dirty microscopic organisms & I enjoyed watching my coworkers sniff, sneeze & hack among the sound of misting Lysol.Not because I'm that sadistic, but because I never got sick.Then I moved to Paris.Once I moved to Paris, I moved about the city the same way as millions of other Parisians: public transportation. ...
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24 Hours, 4 Meals, 2 Countries & 1 Pharmacy

24 Hours, 4 Meals, 2 Countries & 1 Pharmacy

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
When Olivier and I woke up in our hotel room in Breda, we couldn't focus on much except for breakfast. Here's the thing about breakfast: each time I leave France, I get all worked up and dizzy about what this new place will be serving for the first meal of the day.I judge a country based on its breakfast. Sure, there are other small, less important factors that affect my opinion of a place: the booze, the people, the sights... but, these are all nothing compared to the importance of what food a country starts its day with.France, I love you, but a croissant and a cup of coffee just doesn't cut it for me. This is a snack. Fail.Holland, on the other hand... they have their shit together in this area. There was fruit, cereal, plates of meat and cheese... yogurt, juice, coffee, pastries and a variety of bread. A chubby woman with an absurdly sincere grin brought me...
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Cold Medicine Inspires Brilliant Ideas

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
It never fails. If I have nothing to do, no one to see and nowhere to be, I feel great. If I have plenty of things that I have to do, places to go and a busy social calendar, my nose will turn into a snot faucet. My throat will become sore and I will cough up mucous in an endless stream in between violent sneezes.I was sick at my wedding. The last time I went back to Colorado to visit friends and family during Thanksgiving, I had a horribly contagious cold.It never, ever fails.Now that the Hotel Massoud (a.k.a our home) is booked solid from September 7th to September 22nd, I'm all hopped up on cold medicine and have sneezed so much that the cat has made herself scarce, refusing to be in the same room with me.I think Olivier is enjoying this, though. I can barely speak, which means that I cannot effectively piss and moan about anything,...
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