I can’t. I’m almost 50, and back then I deliberately picked a major that would lead to a career with a neutral or good impact. I make half the money I could have made, I enjoy my job, and I’m not part of the problem (well, or only as much as we have to, living under capitalism.)
Hmm. But you eat them both with a fork and knife. (And a panaché bien blanc, it’s law.)
Si tu me demandes de lister 100 sandwiches différents, jamais je ne citerais le croque-monsieur. Je crois que c’est parce qu’il ne devient croque-monsieur qu’une fois chauffé.
My mom, every time she needs to re-enter her Gmail password: “I’m pretty sure there’s never been a password on my email thing.”
Oh dear. Had this friend, J. She was an artist and taught classes for kids. My kid started her class when J and I were already friend.
A few months later we were supposed to co-host a big New Year’s Eve party for a bunch of our friends. J was moving, had job troubles, she bailed on the party the week before–didn’t help, didn’t even come. I was annoyed but I could understand.
In the same time period my kid decides she won’t re-enroll on J’s class because… well, because she’s 7 and she got bored. I try calling J to let her know. 15 times as I recall it, let’s say 7 times because I may be wrong. She doesn’t return my calls. I have other things in my mind and eventually forgets about it.
Two weeks later, first art lesson of the new year, Kid doesn’t go. Two minutes after the lesson ends, J is calling me screaming that I forbade Kid to come back because I was angry about the misses New Year’s Eve party.
Nothing I said could convince her otherwise, and my numerous “I should have told you, I tried to, I called you 10+ times and you never called me back, and then it was the holidays and it slipped my mind” could have been in Ancient Greek for all the good they did.
It’s been 4 years. Small town. To this day she crosses the road to avoid me. She’s telling people I’m a terrible mother and person.
30 years later and I have absolutely no idea. As I rubbed shoulders with her (small department) for the next 3 years I could tell she was self-centered, vain, and sure of her own wonderfullness, but it still doesn’t compute. Well. My nose and I only remember her when somebody ask a question like OP’s.
I need to start by stating the fact that I have a perfectly normal nose in a perfectly normal face. At 18 I was a pretty young woman.
Ages ago, first day in university, first lecture. 400 students listening to the professor. A random girl is staring at me for most of the lecture. Afterwards she runs through the crowd in the hallway, catches up to me and says: “Just had to tell you that you rock. You’re an inspiration to me. Looking so happy and carefree, with that nose of yours! I don’t know how you manage.”
I love you. I’m off to google this Philomena Cunk person but I love you for her quote. It’s absolutely brilliant.
I have a question.
Did he know how to use bar soap?
I honestly don’t know. When my phone dies I go to the nearest phone store and ask for the cheapest android phone they have in stock. They ask me what brand I want, what features are important to me–cheapest. They warn me that the camera isn’t as good as OtherPhone’s–cheapest. And the battery…–cheapest.
If I had to venture a guess I’d say it’s a Redmi? And I suppose it’s bad.
It was 150€ 4 years ago. I can’t fathom sinking 500€ on a phone.
But like, seriously. I’ve been (mostly jokingly) begging my husband’s girlfriend to move in for a decade. Daily life would be SO MUCH easier with 3 adults at home.
I often do it to dampen unpleasant noises. Car alarm? Siren? I make my ears go Frrrrrrrrrrrr. It helps a lot.
Roughly: 1 liter freshly-picked dandelions flowers. (No stems or green stuff. Pour 1 liter boiling water. Two days in a dark place. Strain. Add 1 lemon and 1 orange, quartered, 250g sugar. Boil for 30 minutes
Wait til it’s back to room temperature and add 10ml yeast.
Cover with cloth, wait 1 month (stir every day)
Strain (cheesecloth or sth very fine) Glass bottle. Wait 3 months before driking. Burp the bottle often, otherwise BOOOOOM.
Wild flowers. I’m about to make dandelion wine, and, later, poppy jelly.
It really is. Of course, we still live in a wider context of corporate capitalism, and it sucks here as it does in the whole country. They’re gutting public transit, school budgets, and healthcare. Our local representatives are hard-right assholes, because the old farts vote more than us.
Rural France, as far from the 20 biggest cities as geographically possible, a hard-left hotspot for the last few centuries. Tbh we have like 10 local leftist third places (a co-op bar/live shows place, a freecycle place, two boardgame/rpg bars, a pay-what-you-can (good) restaurant with ultra-local food, a community hall for crafts, homework, WFH, and random meetings,two community theaters.)
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Und ich spreche Deutsch! Been to Bavaria (I know) a few times as a kid / teen, my grandmother taught highschool German for decades, and my dad reads Goethe for fun. German was the language I actually loved. Never use it nowadays though, and it’s so rusty I can’t do anything with it anymore. And my traitor kid just picked Italian as her 2nd foreign language. She sucks.
I’ll be cautious and not eat the brain or marrow.
Big ask, since I’m French, but hey.