michelle & genevieve

last week in paris

1. Nuit Des Musées: all the museums worth their salt (is that the idiom?) stay open till midnight, some with special exhibits and shows. 

exiting the metro at

place de la concorde

(we later came back for the YSL exhibit, which was fucking AMAZING)

grand palais

designed by a perfumer, each corner had a bubble machine that created bubbles with different scents that you could pop on your nose! 

next, musée de l’orangerie. 

gen may have had too much to drinky drinky. 

2. cafe angelina for the best hot chocolate in paris!

getting off the metro on rue de rivoli. 

saw this dude walking around with two huge bags of goodies from la duree. GREEDY FUCKER (im so jealous. a tiny macaroon from this place tastes like heaven but costs 1.5 euros each) 

place de la concorde in the day

3. reid hall, columbia’s campus in the middle of st germain. this is where they extort money from students to fund, among other things, the director’s fabulous designer wardobe. it’s hard to mind when it’s this pretty though. 

4. versailles (crowded, expensive, hot, and kinda boring. pretty though?) 

our heat induced delirium caused these sorts of antics (because making of tourists is a parisian specialty and we are 100% parisian obviously) also, we didnt make it into neither the gardens, nor marie antoinette’s grounds. instead, we went to get berthillon ice cream by the scene. 

5. trek to isle st louis for bertillon ice cream

notre dame 

behind the scenes footage of our religious devotion to food porn. 

6. gen’s last meal: steak frites at bistro paul bert 

followed by a goodbye party at alex’s. 

gen and kyle’s kooples (http://www.thekooples.com/) shot. pretty spot on, i must say. 

7. dinner and nighttime picnic under the eiffel tower. 

hannah describing her dinner to andres. yeah, all my friends are obsessed with food. 

8. moving into lisele’s apartment after getting kicked out of housing (bye bitch!). drinks & a semi-successful “last night out” with her and katherine. 

9. beat takeshi, a superb art exhibit/children’s playground designed by takeshi kitano, a japanese filmmaker. wacky, creative interactive installations that i think i enjoyed more than the kids i brought with me (the american children i babysit for) photography was prohibited but a snuck a couple. 

lunch with the american family; one of the most delicious meals ive had in paris. 

9. drinks by quai st martin with alex, leslie and their hilarious german friend visiitng from berlin. 

10. centre pompidou one last time. saw the dreamlands exhibit (on how fantasy utopias- from world expositions to carnivals- shape society), a lucien freud retrospective and brancusi’s studio

woman in line in front of me had the COOLEST shoes. 

hilarious installation of buildings with robotic arms that moved around in synch to a 90s style exercise video. kawaiiii~

super creepy sculpture named “ghost and brother” (fantôme et frère). the one on the left would repeat in a muted, spine-tinglingly creepy voice “so you wanna talk? let’s fucking talk!” over and over again. it was covered in postules and weird rash-like bumps. it would also wheeze in and out asthmatically. the one on the right, the “brother” was silent, but covered in spidery assemblages made from pots and sticks. CREEPY. 

a recreation of brancusi’s studio!

11. 

cooked a three course dinner for lisele to thank her for playing gracious host. staying with her was seriously like frolicking around an elysian field after the four months spent iwth my bitch of a host mom. so the breakdown- appetizer: asparagus soup made from fresh asparagus, fresh cream and herbs. mozzarella salad (that she made). main: shrimp, asparagus and mushroom pasta in homemade creamy sauce (i used like half a bucket of fresh cream). dessert: boiled apple that i cored and then filled with butter, jam and vanille ice cream. 

12. montmartre at night with leslie, alex and nicolai. 

13. finally made it to st chapelle (been wanting to go since my first day in paris with my mom, no shit!) although im not sure the 45 min wait was worth it, esp. since 1/3 of the chapel is under construction right now. nonetheless, it was breathtaking. 

ran to la durée to pick up gifts for samira, and of course, treated myself to this rose muffin as my last dessert in paris (i had a good long run of pastries and various creamy confections. this seemed like a deserving conclusion). it cost nearly 7 euros, but SO worth it. jam-like filling, perfectly soft muffin, rose flavored icing and whipped cream, with edible silver balls. 

i buried my greedy lips into it and it got a little messy. 

14. 

finally, my last meal in paris, which i had at le troquet. english menu = hilarious. food = fucking excellent. 

budapest

this blog is puttering out its last dying breaths. gen and i will be moving to a new summer blog soon so stay tuned! sorry for not updating in ages..we got caught up in exam madness and then trying to cram in as many sight-seeing/museum activities as possible during the tail end of the semester. i’ll write about that later, but first, i have some catching up to do: BUDAPEST! 

my camera died on the second day, which induced in me bouts of depression and rage. i barely got to capture on camera the best parts of the city, but this will have to suffice, i guess. 

i went to budpest alone, and couch surfed with two really different and interesting dudes. the first guy, andras, is a hungarian art student who lives in this apartment: 

like most buildings in budapest, its grittiness gave it some kind of melancholic charm. 

first meal was in cafe that my cousin (who traveled here a while back and loved it) recommended to me. huge space in the middle of an empty parking lot that was really hard to find, but so worth it in the end. 

most of my photos were taken for the magazine article i’m writing about budapest, meaning they’re of store interiors and shop owners (yawn). so yeah. these are some hip budpestian people that i met while doing research. 

the girl in the first photo told me about a free booka shade concert that night in the middle of an old square. i decided to go on my own and check it out. such a good call. booka shade, by the way, is a set of veteran german DJs who do amazing live shows, they’re on the mix in the last post. anyway, probably the high point of the trip was dancing my tits off in the middle of the strange crowd, out in the open, in the middle of the night, not caring who was watching (no one really was) and just feeling 100% liberated. it was what i was looking for when i decided to travel on my own, i guess. 

budapest is crumbling at the edges, but absolutely gorgeous, in its own way. i can see why so many people fetishize commie eastern europe. 

this was the coolest cafe ive ever been to IN MY LIFE. the owner is some mythic figure in the city who goes by some weird mono-syllabic name, baz or something. anyway it’s called CSENDES (silence, in hungarian) and the walls/ceilings are just spewing out the most random and eclectic decorations, like a full (working) vintage speaker mounted on the ceiling, bicycle wheels, lamps made out of miss piggy heads or torchlights, stuffed animal sculptures flying out of the walls…look! 

the bridge at the end of this picture leads to the river denube, this huge expanse of water that slices budapest into two. the buda side is the “older”, more historical area, with old castles and bourgie neighborhoods. the pest side is hipper, but also dirtier and with more commie-architecture. 

search “budapest nightlife” on google and you’ll see new york times and basically every travel guide raving about “ruined pubs”, which are temporary bars set up in buildings put up for demolition, literally made out of trash (like toilet bowls instead of bar stools) and decorated with garbage bin finds. 

this is the entrance to one of them. 

andras, the first guy i stayed with, is really into photography. i thought his old school camera kicked my DSLR’s ass. 

after this photo my camera battery died. FUCK, im still so pissed. basically, my friend alex came to join me for 24 hours (she missed her original flight and could only afford to come for a day) and we crammed in a crazy amount of activities into that short amount of time. saw the historical sights, went to the turkish baths, a few ruined pubs with dirk (second guy, a really funny german exchange student) and his friends, and a picnic in a remote island outside of budapest with andras and his friends, to celebrate laborer’s day “proletariat style” (in his words). i had a HUGE fried fish and beer for like three euros. amazing. 

oversharing

LINK: http://www.4shared.com/file/ulP8y_-X/Melange__trois.html

i like how every note/blog post i write always is prefaced by “so instead of studying, im going to procrastinate and work on this side project.” Who needs drugs or muses when you have the propulsion towards creativity induced by pressing deadlines and responsibilities?! 

This evening, I have made an extraordinary mix. Not just speshul because it has all the songs that have been in heavy rotation on my itunes for the last few weeks, but also because it follows a STRICT organizational scheme, based on a very clear progression across moods and genre. allow me to explain!! 

We start off with two dub-step songs of the best kind. no irritating dude trying to rap over them, just music based on nihilistic bass wobbles an inch away from being reduced to nonsensical sounds. 

1. Eastern Jam by Chase & Status is as close to a club hit as a dubstep song will ever get. If you ever hear the beginning sitar-like strains at a show, brace yourself to be severely moshed into by wigged out k-heads and endless “REWIIIIIIIINDS!” by that annoying MC who thinks that the crowd’s enthusiasm is caused by (and not in spite of) his attempts at “rabble rousing” 

2. Crunked Up by Benga. This british guy has been around forever, way before dubstep was the new “hot thing”for teenyboppers who’ve outgrown emo. His name was one of the first I heard when I started listening to dub, and i like his stuff because its never repetitive or boring. 
———————-

Now we move on from dubstep classics to the impossible-to-categorize Crystal Castles. They’re probably more melodic (and therefore more marketable) but I really respect how their second album is, against the usual trend of obscure bands raising to fame through internet buzz, darker and more experimental than their first. To me, CC shares the same destructive drive as dubstep, and i imagine the only way to dance to both is just to jerk your body around in painful and frenetic contortions (apparently, their live shows have been so outrageous that a police helicopter had to break one up. i mean, that’s pretty cool). 

3. Year of Silence by Crystal Castles. every few months i come across a song that wraps itself firmly around my brain and i cant get sick of no matter how hard i try. i played this song 20 times in a row last night, no shit. The fact that it’s remix of fucking SIGUR ROS just makes it even more incredible. i listened to the original. it was boring. 

4. Baptism by Crystal Castles. i like how they switch back between that jarring, simplistic sound that sounds like shitty early 90s techno (the kind that you used to para para dance to at arcades) with that “trendy”8-bit gameboy bleeps. and what is alice glass screaming? probably “im the same age as you and have already accomplished more than you ever will” :( 

————

Next, we move on to glitch, which ive been REALLY getting into. basically, it’s music compiled out of the bleeps and beeps of machines “glitching”- or malfunctioning. the mood here is markedly less aggressive, but the tendency towards experimentation and unholy marriages of weird sounds still dominates. i would even say that glitch is more artistic/creative. 

5. Battling Go-Go Yubari in Downtown L.A by Edit. Edit is one of the most talented young DJs in the world. Apparently he’s a big name in the LA underground music scene (cause i like have so00oo many connections there). anyway i like him because he makes really great music without taking himself too seriously. also, he’s azn! 

6. Drive It Like You Stole It, by The Glitch Mob. Watch out for this DJ group, they’re gonna be the NEXT BIG THING, i swear. a bunch of young american boys (with edit as a central figure) who drive around california staging live guerrilla shows at skate parks and malls. awesome. i like that they seem like kids i would hang out with in real life; its like theyre taking electronic music back from the nauseating demi-god-like european masters (Paul Van Dyk, I’m looking at you) and also away from the pretentious label-flaunting faux-hipsters (you too, Steve Aoki) and making music that’s focused on being fun and smart, instead of “which other DJs you’re affiliated with” or what ranking NME gave you. 

———

7. Heart Entire, Nosaj Thing. I saw this guy opening for Bassnectar and have never forgotten him since. His live shows are incredible, i’ve never seen anyone look so graceful while doing such complex things with music. he’s a contemporary of the glitch mob and comes from the same LA scene. ANOTHER AZN, btw. 

8. Kaili by Caribou. Since when did Caribou rock this hard? I remember listening to Andorra and being kindof underwhelmed, esp. given the hype. But everyone’s been going ape-shit over Caribou’s new album, myself included. So eerily pretty. Both Caribou and Nosaj thing come after glitch because they share the same strivings to pick apart and deconstruct sounds, but i find them more serious, contemplative, definitely more artistically inclined, and perhaps more emotional. 

———

now we move on to my oldie but goldie genre, electro, which will always have a speshul place in my heart just cause its soo damn fun. maybe it has less street cred than the stuff preceeding, because it’s so easy to make, listen and dance to, and this is the stuff that the aforementioned faux-hipsters DIG (esp. because of the 80s throwback samples and whole neon aesthetic that comes bundled). this comes after caribou and nosaj thing because it follows in the movement towards the melodic and lightweight. 

9. Woah by Grum. What happened to this guy? He was so promising after “heartbeats” (which i would upload too, except i cant find a download ANYWHERE) took over the blogs a year or so ago, and i don’t think i’ve heard much since. anyway, i love grum because he’s totally mastered the catchy melody + perky beats thing that so many other acts tried and failed to imitate post-justice. 

10. Building Blocks by Kill the Noise. I dont know much about these guys, but this is just cute. it sounds like my baby (robot) brother singing. and the scion cd collections are pretty consistently good. 

11. drugs in my body (designer drugs remix) by thieves like us. the original of this song is annoying; it’s by a band that i think a blog once described as sounding like they were “consistently fashionably drunk.” which could be fun, except i cant stand white boys singing offkey, it reminds me of the whiny indie shit i used to listen to in high school…where’s the autotune when you need it? anyway, thank god for designer drugs, who add a dose to badassery to everything they touch. 

12. tetris (tocadisco remix) by kid dub. i dont know who kid dub is but i think he is playing a lot of electronic music festivals this summer. anyway, i dig this song because it encapsulates everything a good dirty electro song should be: driving grimy beats, a simple but catchy refrain and appropriate breakdowns. 

13. Cocktail Queen by Melleefresh & Deadmau5. No mix is complete with some good old deadmau5. although i feel like this legend is starting to get eclipsed or left behind by fresher acts (his cool nerd act was kinda getting old, even though im happy for him + his playboy bunny looking groupies), hes still a freaking genius. this song isnt anything mind-blowing, but it has deadmau5’s trademark progressive house-y bouncy beats with some hot sounding girl’s voice over. i wish as much sex could ooze out of my voice as i say “i’m the one who makes you scream.” rock it! 

14. Charlotte by Booka Shade. I was never into Booka Shade, maybe because I was confused by their cheesy name and confused them for a Rastafarian reggae band. Anyway, I was recently converted when i caught them at an incredible live show in Budapest. one guy spins, the other guy PLAYS THE BEATS LIVE on a drum set. talk about amazing timing and team work. i think this song sounds really deadmau5-y and house-y, especially with the xylephone-sounding reverberations and the fact that i imagine myself flying across endless stretches ocean when i listen to this song (SHUTUUUUUUUUUP!!!) 

15. Odessa by Caribou. Oops this one got mixed in by accident, but i already uploaded the file and am too lazy to fix it. Whatever. 

16. Donut (Gui Boratto Remix) by M.A.N.D.Y and Booka Shade. Both are from Berlin, and more reason why Berlin is the most badass city in the world. This song is even more spacey than Charlotte, and an example of what good quality lounge music should sound like. Which is a great segway to the king of trippy loungey music…

17. Do the Astral Plane by Flying Lotus. As you can notice, the mix is moving towards a slower, chill vibe. But Flying Lotus isnt background music, so don’t you dare start smoking that hookah pipe and wondering what’s for dinner. I can’t decide if choosing the title”Flying Lotus” is a sign of admirable disregard for general ridicule, or a misguided attempt to tap into the eastern mystic vibe. given that the dude looks and dresses like usher, im just going to go with the whole “unclassifiable” thing and keep marveling at how he’s used synthesized hip hop and electronica so seamlessly. 

18. Guns and Horses (James Rutledge remix) by Ellie Goulding. Dipping into the pop genre a little, can I just say that Ellie Goulding has the most clear and irresistible voice i’ve ever heard? usually i wish my voice sounded like the raspy tones of lady gaga (no really though. have you heard her acoustic stuff?) but when i hear this, i cant help but think about how if i had a voice like that, i would probably be able to sing my way out of any situation and into the arms of the man of my dreams. 

19. Paris (Aeroplane remix), by the Friendly Fires. Okay, I’m actually really sick of this song, but this is a homage to my semester abroad in the city of lights/love because i know that when i miss floaty half-dream existence i have here, this song will take me back. how is it possible that im nostalgic for a place i havent left yet? 

20. Fair Weather Friends, by Daedelus. Nothing can be more firmly centered in the happy-wappy world of indie-pop than this song, with kids singing & whooping (i wonder if there’s just one group of really happy kids that bands like mgmt and ok! go head to for their samples?). this song sounds like summer. 

21. This Love by Ellie Goulding. Oh SHIT another song I forgot to take off during the editing process. Oh well, it’s still pretty, and more importantly, doesn’t break the flow of meticulously-constructed playlist. Also I like how she hits every single note (even the hard high leap ones). Take notes thieves like us! 

22. Werewolf by CocoRosie. I got into this band in college, apparently way later than everyone else cause they came out when we were in middle school? Back then, the “powerful emotional pull” of bands like Death Cab for Cutie made me tear up…I probably would’ve committed suicide if exposed to these two sublime french-american sisters. nightmarish lyrics over a hauntingly rosy melody, with voices that sound like they belong to those two bloody twin girls from kubrick’s “the shining”…..in a way, we’ve come a full circle back to the dark brooding of Benga, except in a completely different package. that muted trumpet in the background sounds like a mental breakdown in musical form. 

23. Endorphin by Burial. Jesus, Burial. What can I say that will ever do this guy justice? Transcendent, revolutionary…maybe i should let the guys at Pitchfork, much better writers than I am, to do the explaining: 
“a spiralling 2-step rhythm, foreboding Middle-Eastern drones, a disembodied diva plaintively moaning and a too-fleeting but essential sample coalesce into a groove that’s unnerving, mournful, and compulsively physical. Shepherding together so many familiar musical impulses, it’s how Burial spins them into webs of torturous beauty that can make this music so compelling.”

Did anyone read through the end of this quasi-thesis? Haha, I doubt it!!!!. Well since i’m just talking to myself at this point, good job michelle for wasting your time in a superbly productive fashion. you will definitely feel proud of yourself later tonight at 4am as you struggle to finish a paper that would be already written if you had done that instead of this. <3 

ps. if you do download the mix, let me know what you think & whether you agree/disagree with me!

random thoughts

it’s my last month in paris, and a muted soundtrack of “this is one of the last times..” seems to be running through my daily activities. 

Like, this is one of the last times I’ll strain to understand what my french professor is talking about. This is one of the last times I’ll spend too much time in Monoprix browsing their posh beauty products. 

It’s funny how I’m starting to notice small changes about myself as a result of festering in this country for almost half a year. Today, while walking down a narrow street, a guy leaned out of his truck and shouted “je t’aime!” to me. Instead of being grossed out by his lechery, my first reaction was to be offended by his use of “tu” instead of “vous”- the familiar form reserved for friends (or when you’re trying to talk down to someone), instead of the polite form that retains distance between strangers. I used to think it was hilarious that the frenchies get in a tizzy over “tutoyage” (to use “tu” on someone), taking it as yet another sign of how hierarchical they can be. mais voilà, c’est comme ça! 

Also, I used to feel a sense of relief/familiarity when I heard Americans talking on the street or the metro. It made me feel like less of an outsider. But now, with “tourist season” in full swing, I see and hear Americans EVERYWHERE and have caught myself cringing a little (or a lot) at how jarring the accent sounds, amplified by the often stupid subject matter (“wait oh my god, where did you get that baguette?? ahh i love baguettes theyre sooooo good” <- I am not making this up). dont get me wrong, my loyalties are still with team USA, but i guess it’s just striking that my ears still prick up when i hear someone speaking sexy french. even fuck your mother (nic ta mère!) sounds like honey. 

still, please shoot me on sight if i become another silly american girl pretending to be a continental bo-bo. 

-michelle (im signing this because i dont want to incriminate genevieve with my rambling thoughts. if you knew us at all you could probably tell that i wrote this, but as our blog popularity reaches dizzying heights, you never know who is reading) 

i am happy. and have been consistently so for almost the entire last few months (not withstanding a few gripes about my hollow love life and confrontations with racist frenchies). it’s weird to admit this, when anyone who knows me also probably knows that my tendency to analyze everything to death also translates into (misplaced) mistrust when things go too well for too long. but this semester abroad has seriously been half a year of easy living, with spring break being the proverbial cherry on top of a flat slice of cake. 

i got fat and giggly in amsterdam with two close girlfriends (and budapest blew my mind- but more on that later) and this is picture evidence: 

(ps. im listening to this dirrrty electro mix made by some hungarian dude while writing this, and if you’re into filthy disco beats, GOGOGOGOGO-http://www.andro.hu/Andro_Bodyrock_2_May2010.mp3) 

first day: just me and gen, we arrive at my aunt’s place at 6:30 am after a bus ride from hell (gen spent the entire bus ride loudly complaining about the stinky feet of the guy behind us, and we realized at the end that he could speak perfect english. also, we both forgot our passports and almost got our asses kicked by the dutch police, but luckily our stupid americans act pulled through) and take fattie naps till afternoon, before sojourning on into city proper to explore. 

we take a bike ride around my indonesian-dutch aunt’s gorgeous suburban neighborhood while on our way to stuff our faces (amsterdam = jayjay’s land; i never really figured out what traditional dutch food is supposed to be, but i quickly understood that mayonnaise and french fries is a national favorite) 

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM! 

croquettes (or what’s left of one) 

my cuz tiho, who is like legit dutch and super chill, esp. for a 15 year old (god i was such a brat then)

twilight was gorgeous

okay so im writing an article about amsterdam for a magazine in singapore about the best shopping/eating in the city; it was a pretty sweet assignment and a perfect opportunity to get to know dutchies. i also got a bunch of comp-ed goodies! obviously this is bit simplistic, and obviously i dont think that just because your great great great grandfather was an amazing french fries exporter (haha) it automatically means that you inherit his best traits, but this kind of stuff sortof seeps into a culture, you know? and i really do think that the dutch history of being super successful commercial traders was evident in the way that everyone was hyper-lingual (my cousin speaks five languages…including ancient greek) and exceedingly friendly. 

this woman sat me down over her house cocktail and told me the story of her restaurant, which started out as her + her cousins cooking meals for good friends. 

part of the set menu, which changes EVERY DAY

shoes modeled after macaroons and candy!

this guy is wildly passionate about denim and owns a jeans store..was super cute to see him wax poetic over his favorite pair. 

also got access to the sun roof for another restaurant. honestly thought it was a little yuppy but the view was unbeatable. 

my aunt and her family take us out to dinner to eat “dutch pancakes”….oh lord, words cannot even describe…….

pancakes larger than pamela anderson’s jugs and drenched in this thick, glassy syrup. 

also these bite sized pancakes (what are they called again gen?) that are both crispy and fluffy, come in a bath of butter and sugar, and practically explode in your mouth. 

say it with me now…OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!!

oh, whats dis? where are you going gen? 

martha joins us the second day! 

apple pies are also a dutch speciality. im not shitting. look at this thing!!! 

demolished.

we took a long drive along the country side to look at some exquisite flower fields. tulips are my absolute favorite flower, and to express my glee, gen and i tried frolic in one of the beds, only to be rudely told to FOKK OFF! by some dutch farmer. martha has the hilarious video evidence of this. nonetheless, twas a feast for the eyes. 

black tulips, apparently very rare and expensive. 

stumbled upon this store opening by some amsterdam fashion institution students. decided to walk in under the guise of “covering it for my article” but really to talk to beautiful people and eat their hors d’oeuvres 

pretty much also stumbled upon this hole in the wall store owned by a new yorker who sells underground skater t-shirts and is deathly passionate about staying non-commercial….he reminded me of a holden caulfield wannabe a little too old for his clothes, but nonetheless, it was fun talking to him about new york, selling out, corporate culture, and all these things that have been swimming around my head over the last few months as i tried to find a summer internship. 

laughter bombs + martha’s reprimanding finger 

in the red light district: this tiny lane (probably the narrowest street in the world) heads into a seedy labyrinth filled with prostitutes in windows lit with red lanterns right out of that police song. its so tight that your tits are practically separated from theirs by a thin glass plane. 

unfortunately i couldnt take any photos cause there were “no photos” signs everywhere & those bitches looked really fierce..wouldnt want to get into a fight with them! esp. cause 80% were actually men. 

late night whim to go on a ferry go round ride (oh yeah, there is a giant carnival in the middle of amsterdam. why am i not surprised?) 

our shitty map of amsterdam pieced together with my mediocre microsoft paint skills & scotch tape. although obliterated by the end, it served its duty well. 

fin! 

and next time, kiddies, my wanderings around budapest. stay tuned, whoever is out there…

vacances de printemps

spring break is over and i am mortally sad.

amsterdam:

london:

too tired to write anything about them but suffice for now to say i had a wonderful time.

anyone who knows me realizes rather quickly that i really like food. i was hard-pressed to find two pictures from each location that did not involve a food item of some sort. i once said (in an altered state of mind) that my secret ambition in life is to be a food photographer and michelle said “gen, i don’t think it’s really a secret.” this is not so interesting in itself, being fairly evident (as well as my love of adverbs), but rather as an entry into the realization i had today of why i don’t like my host family. michelle and i have 2 posts apiece pending to complete this study abroad blog, the first is about racism in france and the second is about how much we dislike our host families. there is no objective reason why i shouldn’t like mine. besides the fact that my host father and brother completely ignore my existence (seriously - i crossed paths with my host father in the street one day and said “bonjour”, he put his head down and quickly sped past me), my host mom is welcoming enough. she is not french, so it’s not really a cultural exchange of any sort, and the food she cooks leave some to be desired. but the house is very clean (obsessively so) and they generally keep to themselves. the reason why i have felt uncomfortable living here for the past 4 months is because i don’t have free access to the kitchen. and that makes me feel unwelcome. i can’t so much as go downstairs to make a cup of tea without my host mom coming in to watch me. growing up in a semi-azn household, food and the kitchen were a big part of family life. the motto food = love. cleaning your plate = love. therefore, no kitchen = no love and that’s why i hate it here.

more berlin

people been giving me shit for not updating this blog (or maybe its just those voices in my head). while taking a break from my criminally depressing activity of doing work when its so beautiful outside, im gonna upload a couple more berlin pictures and wax poetic about berghain (sigh) 

gen and i have obviously stopped feeling guilty about crossing borders every weekend. i really enjoy how my homework is usually to read a french book in a cafe. having no homework is scary though, bc it also means no practice and no gauging how you’re progressing - I have a three hour exam next week in which i will be graded according to the other french kids in my class….i will be lucky to pass. 

little adventure before even arriving in berlin: easyjet delays my flight for three hours and then decides to cancel it. normally composed frenchies almost start a riot in the deserted airport at 1am. its too late to take the train back home, and they’re offering a free night at the hilton. me and this berliner i meet (i told him i liked his snazzy shoes) kill time making fun of people, and then spend half the night trying to find food. 

this is like 1/100 of the people waiting in line for a room 

not too shabby! i stole so many shampoo bottles and croissants the next morning at the comp breakfast buffet (breakfast buffets at hotels are on my list of the top 10 things in life, dont you agree?) 

berlin boy doing some serious glamorizing 

anyway, i got on the same flight at gen the next day, and it was a happy happy reunion of the pussy possy. seeing these girls again made me appreciate how fucking lucky i am to have them as besties…we’re all so different as people and yet…argh okay i need to stop. 

as you can tell, genevieve got the most wasted that night (she cried the next morning because she was too hung over to eat her omelette breakfast, hahaha i am never gonna stop mentioning this) but we all got pretty tipsy…gen already mentioned this, but martha’s concoction of syrup and beer was AMAZING. 

martha & shiri resumed their lesbian activities 

martha’s apartment was so cute… this is her breakfast nook (where her roommate’s cousins later pillaged the pasta martha and i made! DEATH TO RAT-THIEVES!) 

arinn’s friend bryan who lives in berlin and shares callia’s wackiness, also had a magnificent pad. berlin’s real estate is really cheap, and for 1/4 of the price of a nyc studio, you can get an entire apartment. actually, everything in berlin was really cheap.

if you know me well, youve probably heard me get a little too excited when i reminisce about berlin. i fucking loved all its bombed out buildings covered in graffiti and the 72 hour nightlife scene. it’s the perfect city if you’re a restless student in your 20s…i dont think id want to live and grow old there (it doesnt seem ideal for making money or raising children) but i know that im racking my brains trying to figure out how i can feasibly move there after graduation for a few years..

martha drinks alone…

this is one of my favorite pictures EVER. martha’s apartment’s super fancy security system entailed poking a button through its grills with a long metal rod that is propped up by its door. martha very chivalrously would perform this task every night, not matter her state of intoxication. notice arinn’s equally amazing expression of bemusement..

AMAZING breakfast the next morning at jules verne (highly recommended)

riding rouge in the berlin metro. you can almost hear arinn lecturing shiri on how she needs to “stop posing with her body and more with her face” 

somewhere in this picture is an art gallery! 

the rest of the afternoon was spent looking for more art galleries 

o ok will do

& i also really liked how every surface in this city was an opportunity to draw or write something on.

bathroom door: 

i thought this was cute 

finding the comme des garçons guerilla store (see gen’s recap below) 

paris has been pissing me off lately because of the abundant racism on every level of society. sometimes theyre so ignorant they dont even understand why i get pissed off when they assume im “japonaise” just because im asian. frenchies need to get their heads out of their asses and learn about other cultures. okay, race is a really complicated issue here, and i dont have the time to go on a rant about it. but anyway, this chinese food place in berlin made me laugh:  

cause there were signs like this too! 

and the best one (on a bus) 

this is how arinn ordered drinks at every bar 

martha wore a SEE THROUGH green dress, black lipstick, and cat ears to a club. i love her. 

i want more parties like this in paris 

shoutout to elliot! 

my camera battery died at the berlin wall,

so i didnt get to take pictures of the second best place in berlin that i went to (alone, the day after the girls left)- the so-called “sistine chapel of graffiti”— the kunsthaus tacheles near oranienburger. the run down building reeked of piss and i was admittedly skeptical that there would be anything but a couple of rats and junkes in the dark building. there were a bunch of italian tourists wandering around the entrance, so i decided to suck it up and lead the way in. after climbing a bunch of stairs through rooms covered with peeling posters advertising secret raves and art shows, i found a labyrinth like maze of rooms covered with all sorts of graffiti (and not just boring name tags). im stealing some pics of the internet to give an idea of what it was like, but none of them really do it justice. really fucking wish i had my camera. 

the outside had a beer garden with a broken down schoolbus and all sorts of junk reconstructed into tables and chairs. there was a “studio” with iron sculptures by an artist, and another room selling art + posters..i bought one that read “all poets die in steaming piles of shit…ha! ha! ha!” - it seemed to summarize the berlin sense of humor…

so finally: berghain. 

two hour line outside the club even though we got there at 2am. bouncers looked like james bond villains. all cameras had to be checked in with your coats. we had to bring pretty gay boys with us, if not a group of five girls had no chance of getting in. the club has no VIP list or VIP rooms, and has a reputation for not letting celebrities in (carl cox wrote a rant after being rejected), and wont let you in if you look like a douchebag, or if you’re gonna be freaked out by what goes on inside. tons of beefcakes (many of them beautiful, but most looked too jacked on steriods and meth) in gay fetish gear and feathers. no reflective surfaces in the entire club, including mirrors in the bathroom, so you can never gauge how messed up you look. club stays open for a full 72 hours on the weekends; i saw fresh-faced people coming in at 9am (maybe after breakfast?). bathroom looked like a cesspool of sex and drugs with dirty water running off into weird puddles of substances. tons of tiny dark rooms hidden in corners for people to have sex. heavy techno/minimal/house reverberating off the factory ceilings.

in other words, a space where you could do whatever you want without people judging you or stopping you or even remembering that you do it. this is me, coming home the next day at 1:30pm…

hahahaha i <3 berlin. 

in a similar (woeful) vein

i’m in a rut.

i got back from pasteur around 7 pm today. today, transformation of competent bacterial cells with mutant plasmids to express and study the int4 enzyme. i had dinner (duck and lentils - vaguely posh, weirdly) and went up to my room. briefly skimmed facebook. and then launched into an epic 3 hour jaunt through the new york times online. i read about justice stevens’s retirement from the supreme court, a lot of recipes on broccoli , the discovery of a new human species (this article actually made me lol because this poor paleontologist dude searches for so long for these hominid bones or whatever and it ends up being his pre-teen son that stumbles upon them - TWICE - by accident), paperwork problems in medicine, an article on the henri cartier-bresson retrospective at moma (you should go if you’re in new york i’m so jealous!), this stupid post about rumors (i had to edit this post several times, the first time around i wrote “tumor’s” instead of “rumors”. i think my english is going) surrounding sarkozy/carla’s mutual infidelity, and a decent amount of time browsing t magazine. also a not insignificant part of all of that was intermittently reading reviews and looking at pictures of the ipad. the more i read about it, positive or negative, the more i dislike it, and even pronouncing the word “ipad” in my head makes me cringe. gross. but i’m not going to add to the already heaping mountain of literature devoted to something that is entirely insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. it was an insane breadth of topics, anyway, which i think reflects the fact that i am doomed to be a perpetually well-rounded person with an equally well-rounded set of interests. unfortunately, my greatest fear in life is mediocrity, and it looks like i’m heading down that road. never that great in anything, but pretty good in lots of things. i also am writing this entire blog post in html. still got it.

on an unrelated note, j. crew’s fall collection is fucking sick. they’ve really been banging it out lately.

it is now 10 pm and i have yet to do a lick of work. too late to go out and i’m exhausted anyway, but i can’t even cobble together my schedule for next year. for the record, it’s going to look something like this:

fall:

- orgo i

- senior french seminar (with some intensely-titled professor who is apparently a proust scholar. like in little miss sunshine. yeah, i read part of swann’s way. like 4 years ago.)

- topics in science (this is a 0-credit addendum to my clinical research on the weekends)

- PE (prayinggggg for yoga)

- biochem

- music hum (peace out core)

- independent research

spring:

- orgo ii

- orgo lab

- independent research

- another bio class to raise my sGPA (cruelest of cruel. my science GPA is still haunted by my utter lack of giving a shit freshman year), probably genetics because i actually really like it. if i can gather my wits about me i will be taking the neurobio sequence i and ii in fall/spring

- oh and studying for the MCAT.

the road to med school is such a piece of shit.

panic at the disco

im sitting here in the dark in my host moms living room (trespassing forbidden space, whatcanisay, im a baddddass!) at 5:30am, just got off the phone with my mom who, with the best intentions possible, has still succeeded in making me feel like shit. basically, she pointed out something that should have been glaringly obvious, but now is only painfully evident in retrospect.

im probably going to get kicked out of the states and sent back to singapore after graduating columbia. 

in order to stay in the US, some american company will have to hire me and process a shitload of visa papers so i can work. in my chosen “career field” where competition is fucking cutthroat and the jobs are getting scarcer and scarcer, WHERE THE FUCK am i going to find a newspaper company that will think that i am somehow more qualified than other regular americans for a job, and will be willing to help me get a work visa? HOW THE FUCK am i supposed to find a company THAT WILL LET ME TAKE THE JOB OF AN AMERICAN (this issue makes even the most heartfelt liberalists turn a few more shades of patriotic)?! it’s such a strange position to process - after living abroad for so long, going to american schools and having mostly american friends, i am starting to realize that nothing intrinsically about me is actually american, and that the country owes absolutely nothing to me. my personality is the way it is because i was fortunate enough to be born into a family that believed that it should stick together when my dad got an overseas job posting, and worked hard enough in high school to get into columbia. 

suddenly, the country ive analyzed and often criticized is weirdly shaping into some “promised land” - i feel as demeaned as an immigrant getting plopped back into a boat and sent away from ellis island, “back to where you came from”. but where is that, anyway? im ethnically chinese but have only lived in china for three months. my passport is singaporean, but all my singaporean friends went to the american school with me, and the only way for me to connect with a local nowadays is to reminisce about my childhood. i will always love my country and my roots, and will gladly fistfight anyone who questions my loyalties. 

BUT I CANNOT GO BACK TO WORK. a part of me just fucking curls up and dies, thinking about the tepid professional environment there, the gaping artistic vacuum, the dominance of Confucian values and the strict gender roles women are expected to adhere to. ill be alienated from my colleagues at the same time that ill be alienated from my college friends. i wont be able to get together for coffee and gossip about the adventures of going professional or entering grad school. hell, i wont be able to skype because of the fucking time difference. 

WHAT. AM . I . GOING. TO. DO?!!!!!!!!!! 

berlin encore

this was pretty indicative of our day. berlin is gritty (this is the most appropriate descriptor i can think of) and even the thriving art scene is hidden amongst threatening parking lots such as this one. finding the art gallery where the hip young berliner friend that michelle made at the airport was thus quite a trick. we eventually wandered through a scary carport and found it:

the space is a former factory or something, notice that industrial door and the uneven hole carved into the 5-inch wall.

really excellent exhibition combining sound and video projected onto these cardboard boxes.

truly a miracle find. michelle and i both spied this store from across the street and inside a tram, but promptly resolved that we would never find it again and forgot about it. the next day i saw a restaurant that looked oddly familiar (its name was like fuchensplashen - oh german) (i completely made that up but you catch my drift) and instinctively thought that the cool-wallpaper store was nearby. well, it was. me and my eagle eye. turns out that it’s even cooler than we initially suspected - a comme des garçons guerrilla store. sickkkkkk

elliot dreamboat

scandal on the berlin wall!

the only pictorial evidence from berghain. i had a really long description of our time there but it got deleted because tumblr/the internet is a fuck so i’ll let michelle do the talking on that one.

finally back in paris! feels like ages since i’ve spent a proper weekend here. no worries though, as i’ve got mountains of reading to keep me company. as the world is eternally mocking me, it’s finally starting to get beautiful out. i desperately need to see the exhibits on ysl (at the petit palais), crime et chatiment (= crime and punishment for all you french n00bs, at the musée d’orsay) and edvard munch, ou l’anti-cri (at the pinacothèque).

à bientôt, bisoux!