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3 Kings

Today marks the Epiphany, the 12th night, which commemorates when the infant Jesus was visited by Zoroastrian astronomers.

In France, it is celebrated by eating La Galette des rois, or frangipane.  It is a diddly-licious almondy cake.


The ritual goes as follows: one person, usually the youngest at the table (though last year it was me, the oldest) assigns each piece to each person.
Here’s the kicker: hidden in the cake is one small ceramic angel figurine!  Whoever gets it in his or her piece is named King or Queen.  The responsibilities of office are marginal, and pretty much the only priviledge is wearing the coveted Burger-King-like crown, which you can do for the rest of the party.  After a few bowles of cidre, you might feel tempted to wear it on the way home on the metro, but you listen to your girlfriend’s better judgement instead.

Xmas

Have a look at my pictures from Xmas 2008.

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BD Boum

One of the more endearing things I find about France is that comic books are broadly accepted as a form of art. 

This weekend in Blois there is the 25th annual BD Boum, with all sorts of things happening all around town. 

I don’t think there will be a lot of cosplay going on, though.

bd BOUM – Festival de Bande Dessinée à Blois

We gots the internets


We gots the tubes, we gots the info supahighway, it’s on and we are on it, baby.  Even the Satanic Hot Water Bottle Cover is pleased.

Stay tuned for a new joint on Veesh dot Com

Presidential Drinking Game

From the Seminal. Sorry we didn’t find this in =
time=20
for the first debate, but there’s still time for fun. =

 
Every=20
time John McCain mentions his POW experience, praise his courage and =
drink a=20
kamikaze. This one is only for the heavy drinkers.
 
Every =
time Obama=20
says change everyone has to switch seats and drink the other person=92s =
drink of=20
choice.
 
Every time John McCain tries to associate Barack =
Obama with=20
an unsavory character, take a sip of your dirty =
martini.
 
Every time=20
someone says bailout you have to finish your drink and pour=20
another.
 
Every time John McCain says “my friends”, spit out =
your=20
drink and shout “I am not your friend” at the =
television.
 
Every=20
time “evil”, “evil doers”, or anything with evil is mentioned, drink a =
sip of=20
French red wine.
 
Every time John McCain threatens Iran, =
drink a=20
savage car bomb or cherry bomb.
 
Every time Barack Obama =
ties John=20
McCain to George W. Bush, drink a sloe gin fizz and wish for better =
days. . .=20

 
When Georgia is mentioned, drink a fuzzy =
navel.
 
Every=20
time John McCain mentions Sarah Palin, drink a white russian. After all, =
if=20
Sarah Palin is around there must be a Russian nearby=20
somewhere.
 
Every time John McCain smiles creepily, drink a=20
roofie-colada.
 
If anyone mentions a golden parachute, pound =
some=20
goldschlager.
 
Every time John McCain makes an appeal to =
states=20
rights, lean back and take a sip of that sweet southern comfort. . .=20

 
Every time John McCain says anything, take a drink from =
the=20
oldest, crappiest bottle you have-that skunked beer in the back of the =
fridge,=20
the two-dollar wine someone gave you for your birthday five years ago, =
the dregs=20
from that bottle of Popov vodka left over from a party you had in=20
February-because you=92ve heard it all before, and you didn=92t much =
like it the=20
first time.
 
Regardless of what either candidate says, at =
the end of=20
the debate, drink something that must be lit on fire first, then hit =
yourself in=20
the face with a shovel.

Calling it in

an <b>internet update</b> =
dee dee dit=20
de dee dee dee dit…

 

We’ve received word that our internet =
is now=20
working.  Yay.  The only problem now is that we’ve not gotten =
our=20
magic box yet.  When will it arrive?  It’s like waiting for =
Christmas=20
without a calendar.

 

Fall has started now, but the summer is =
pressing on=20
valiantly.  Although chilly in the morning, by midday we’ve had =
nice sunny=20
weather.  I really hope I get out to film it before it’s too =
late. =20
Alas, I am too busy with Dr Slough and something for =
Veesh.com.

 

 

Calling one in

The school system Orleans-Tours, in =
which Julie is=20
a teacher, is larger than Belgium.

 

Bringing a packed lunch to school is =
unheard of in=20
France.

Calling it in

I’m calling one in.
Still weeks away from having the internet at home, I’ve set up the blog =
to post using email. In this fashion, one can write the posts as email =
messages using a pop3 email client, send the messages to the outbox, and =
they should get posted at soon as the email is sent.

There seems to be a few things to iron out: a few odd characters and =
text wrap issues etc. Also, I don’t think I can use any html or send =
attachments to be posted.

Internet Update

We’ve received word that a technician =
will come=20
around on Friday morning to get the phone line activated.  After =
that, it’s=20
still another 20 days before we are finally online at home.  =

 

 

The verdict is in…

Last week was an eventful one for Julie.  Her thesis finally finished printed and sent off to the prof, and also hearing back as to which school, and which city she will be teaching in.

And that city is:  Blois .  Yes, that is pronounced like “blah” with a “w” in the middle.  Mike’s going to have a field day.

It’s a little town of about 50,000 inhabitants.  It is a very old city, dating back to the 6th century or so, and has a very rich history.  It was a residence for French Kings.  Louis XII was born and lived there.  Other notable homeboys are Denis Papin, who built the first piston steam engine, and Houdin, the father of modern conjuring.

The middle of town is hilly and winding.  On our apartment hunt yesterday, at least two of the flats we visited were in medieval houses.  One of which was literally next door to the chateau (I wanted that one because it’s on all the postcards).