Thursday, May 14, 2009

BLog the whatever: in which Jaron abandons that silly format and updates you on some goings-ons


Hey there! So I'm in France, as you can tell by the way I'm sneering as I type this. The first thing you notice about France is that they hate me. They hate everyone. Yesterday I was at the supermarket and I wanted to buy some apples and tomatoes. It is not an easy thing to do. You have to put them on the scale yourself and then find a picture of the food on a huge board and enter the code. The checkout girl can't be bothered. She fussed with her nails as she mumbled instructions and did everything in her power to avoid eye contact. I didn't understand at all what was going on and people behind me were getting mad. Finally I figured it out and pushed some random buttons. I think I paid for artichokes, but I was so flustered I didn't care. Then they just sit there waiting for you to bag your own groceries. They have the bags though, so they wait until you ask for them and THEN bag them. I got two flimsy plastic bags to put my 30 lbs of food into. I barely made it to my apartment when they exploded. Could have been worse. I cooked dinner for myself last night. I made a mixed greens salad with tomatoes and a vinaigrette dressing that I learned to make in New York. Just oil, balsamic vinaigre, a bit of sugar and some dijon mustard (this particular variety had pesto in it...magnifique!). I also cooked some egg rolls in the oven, which turned out disgusting. And of course a baguette. I eat every meal outdoors. I have a terrace that is simply merveilleux.
I have taken some pictures and video but the cord to my camera is in my stuff that I had shipped over and apparently it will take another month or so for that stuff to clear customs. Oh, the french! They are so slow. And there is no incentive for them to be nice to you because it's nearly impossible to fire a frenchie. The employers are obligated to pay them about 15 years' severance, so they typically just don't bother. If it's a question of poor job performance you can fire them, but then you have to prove in court that they were inept, and that is next to impossible, since the whole country is inept.
They do have a fantastic vacation schedule. This weekend is a 4 day weekend. Last weekend was a 3 day, so was the one before that. The Y&R office requires you to take one free day off per month on top of all that. All paid, of course. The French are paid for everything.
So far I still don't have a bank account or a phone. Those are important things, I think you will agree. I'll feel much more settled once I have checked off a few essentials.
As far as work goes, I love the office. We are on the first floor and to the right and left of me are big open courtyards full of smoking frenchies. They sip little espressos and chain smoke, and in their free time they do advertising.
I think I'll have the opportunity to do some good work here though. The team is structured very simply. We have one boss, and he sits across from me at my table. If any of us wants to run something by him, we just do it. Instant feedback. Good progress.
All right. I'll try to find a picture to go with this post. Maybe just go to Google and type in n'importe quoi and post the first pic that comes up.

8 comments:

  1. Sounds lovely - the terrace, the dressing, the sneer. Loved reading your post, informative in a straightforward, witty manner. The French sound like tons of fun...whatever. Any hot girls?

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  2. It is so good to get a report of your new digs! I assume you carried your computer with you? So do you speak only French, only English, or both with your boss who sits across from you at your table and with all the other boys and girls that also work for y and r?
    I'll look forward to more posts - with RELEVANT photos etc. Okay, I guess the rat makes a point...
    Love you, Mom

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  3. Although it sounds like you had a rough shopping experience, it sounds like you are going to like it in France. I'm sure someone is nice in France. That's cool about the vacation days though! Have a great day!

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  4. My French teacher was nice. she was french. And my professor who taught me my "peoples of Africa" anthropology class. So there are at least two nice french people. Of course, they no longer live in france. So maybe its something in the water over there. Or the cheese, most of which is gross. You'll sneer too when you decide to start eating rotten butt cheese like your comrades.

    Anyways, can't wait to visit, which I'll do shortly after my arrival in Europe, most likely. Save some camembert for me!

    that's so cool and so french to eat outside, btw. I ate outside today, too, but that's because I don't HAVE an "inside," as it were.

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  5. I think it's a monkey mum. It's not your fault though-blame the french. Blame them for everything.

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  6. "Settled," I have found is certainly a relative term. I relate so much to your new living conditions and getting the necessities, let alone the comforts, of life a bit organized. Glad you have a good working environment though. Is your boss the same guy you worked with in Hong Kong, or New York? Oh, BTW, I'm so proud you eat French baguettes. Do you eat French toast and French fries too? How about French cut green beans? Those French are everywhere, aren't they? Some Frenchman organized the streets of Washington, DC so that people run into each other. There is a subtle cruelty to the French, don't you think?

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  7. I wouldn't worry too much about the change of scenery. You DID, after all, go on for several paragraphs about food. You'll fit in nicely before long, and when you come back, you'll tell us all how horrible our food and fresh cheese is. Good luck with everything.
    Damian

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  8. who taught you how to make aforementioned dressing?

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