Game Time!

As Devon used to like to play with us in the kitchen of 909 M Street, in Washington, I thought I would share my “High/Low” of yesterday. Not to be confused or in competition with Leslie’s game, “Kiss it or Dis it” which is equally as fun to play. To be fair to both parties, I will play a round of both (plus, the more I type the more body heat I produce).

Tuesday, February 2, 2010: National Crêpe Day

According to About.com: “In France, 2 February is la Chandeleur, Fête de la Lumière, or jour des crêpes. It's customary to eat crêpes and do some fortune telling, and there's a fun game for French classes too.” (I opted out of the fortune-telling as I have no desire to know what French catastrophe will be heading my way next. Merci beaucoup. After reading the above information, though, maybe my tutor showed up yesterday because she wanted to play crepe games?).

Now, let’s play some games (sans crepes).

High: The scaffolding is coming down! I can now see outside as I sit here and type away. This could be an issue as the brand-new store Topping -- from three stories up it appears to be the European sister to DC's TangySweet -- seems to be talking to me. Its purple awning waves in my direction, and I swear I saw some granola spell out “Come over, AMB” this morning in the store window (that was probably pre-coffee). As a connoisseur of fro-yo, I do believe I will have to give in and purchase -- although I am sure it will rival a Tasti-D pricetag. Nonetheless, it is now clearly visible, and a welcomed sight.

Low: Matt is now ill. It is always hard to see a loved one sick, especially when your loved one usually does the dinner dishes. As the evening would take us, Matt lay on the couch hoping to rid his body of whatever was plaguing it, and I sat there hoping it wasn’t on the shower curtain or new bed spread I just purchased (the soldes are almost over -- I had to be Parisian and partake one more time). In all fairness, a peacock-adorned silk duvet cover by Olivier Desforges is timeless, oh-so-French, and a necessity. It was more like buying milk then splurging. Matt has taken to it well, as he has still not emerged from the sheets. I, however, seemed more intent on listening to the neighbor snore through the wall last night, then basking in its luxury (accidentally taking two caffeine-infused Excedrin prior to bed did not help with that).

Since it is another Wednesday chez Benz and Spike is home all day, stay tuned as I am sure my low will get lengthier!

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Kiss it or Dis it works slightly differently. You look at a picture or scenario and determine whether you would kiss it (you like) or dis it (you dislike). Pretty simple, except it can cause some heated debate if with fellow female co-workers over a People magazine at lunch.

It was after lots of searching that I found Bruno Romaine, a hairdresser, on Rue de Charonne. I walked in to see a large monogram on the reservation stand and was sold. This was only after I saw the “English spoken” slogan on the window (my primary criterion). I made the appointment for 1pm, and after flying down there afraid I was going to lose my spot, Pauline and a man whom I am assuming is Bruno, were sitting in the sink chairs, listening to Missy Elliot. I immediately relaxed, and the transformation began. It was not the peace and quiet (as Pauline and I could not communicate), or the soft white leather chair that I sat in while she scooted around on a wheeled stool to cut from each angle. Nor was it the electric green towel that dried my once long locks while she tirelessly combed through my tangles (while a remix of Gangsta’s Paradise was playing -- irony at its finest). It wasn’t even the coffee she brought me as I sat there lost deep in my thoughts and my serenity. It was the simple feeling of having it work out. I had booked an appointment with the desire to get a French haircut, and there I sat, Pauline flailing away. At last, something had come together. Or, as you may see it, come undone. Keep your kisses and disses to yourself, s'il vous plaît, as I am already a bit irritable these days. However, just know that even if you think I look like a young child who found mommy’s kitchen scissors and decided to have a go, it was the first time, in a very long time, that I was at peace.