This crap only happens to moi

Picture it: first night in Paris by myself, walking under the Eiffel Tower. There are hundreds of tourists, lined up on all sides, waiting to go up the tower. And in front of me, I see a guy dressed in camo shorts with a blackened nose. Not sure if it's a dog nose or just paint, but either way I plan to avoid him at all costs. But instead he spots me and starts walking toward me, arms outstretched. At this point it's too late for me to turn and run - he's closing in. I'm praying I don't get stabbed or raped out in front of all of these tourists, and instead find myself enveloped in a hug. Mind you, my arms remain stiff at my sides - who the hell IS this person, and why is he hugging me?! A few seconds later, he unhooks himself from me and turns to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen!" He yells. "My WIFE!" And nods in my direction. The crowd cheers. I turn a deep shade of red and get the hell out of there.

Apparently I wandered into some sort of street performance, and looking back it is hysterical. At the time, though - mortifying. What else is new.

Good thing black nail polish is in...

Because I'm about to lose a toenail, friends. In the 36 hours since my mom arrived, I have already had two injuries. The first happened before she even got to my place - I was reaching for the phone to give her directions and fell out of bed onto the hardwood floor, slamming my back into the iron bed frame. Needless to say I could barely move yesterday. And can move even less today, after a freakishly heavy nutcracker (we're talking 10-pounder here) came crashing down on toe #2 (the little piggie who stayed home?). Always one with a flair for the dramatic, I let out the most blood curdling scream I could muster, and haven't been able to walk on it since. It's already turned a lovely shade of blue, and I don't think the toenail is long for this world. At least it's open-toed shoe season...although let me just tell you, wearing flip-flops on the elliptical is...different. Because god forbid I skip a workout. The nutcracker could have lopped off the toe completely, and I probably still would have figured out a way to work up a sweat. Nuts, I know. (Pun intended.)

My daddy HATES me wearing these boots

Finally saw the preview for the new Footloose movie last night. Meh. It's the same, but...not. And there's hip-hop dancing. I don't think the good people of Beaumont (tragically spelled "Bomont" in the movie) would go for that. You've gotta ease them in, guys. Of course I will probably see this movie, but will know in my heart that the 80s version was better. (Which is pretty much the case with everything in my life, isn't it.)

Let's daaaaaaaance!

How about a little follow-through, people?

A few months ago, my boss told me she had someone to set me up with. Ironically, we both went to UNC although I have never met him. (And yes, I Facebook stalked him - 9 mutual friends!! What are the odds.) And yet...two months have passed, and no set-up. I'm sure he has a girlfriend by now - that's how these things work. There are way too many beautiful, single girls in Dallas for a guy to be single for long. So just a heads up - if you find someone to set me up with, do it THAT DAY. Gotta strike while the iron's hot, you know? (And yes, I speak from experience...)

Holy hotness, batman

(And no, I'm not referring to myself. Heh.) I'm referring to the redonkulous heat wave happening in Dallas (and most of the US) right now. I mean it's 8:30am and it's already 93 degrees out. Yesterday my car read 120. And only went down to 113. Awesome.

The rolling power outages also sound like fun - no A/C at all! Wheeee! (Just like being back in London!) So far, haven't experienced one (knock on wood), but I have a feeling it will be happening soon enough.

Damn you, global warming. (Actually, damn you Aquanet users from the 80s. I blame you for this. And mall hair.)

Waaaay too much Bachelorette for one person to stomach

I was very behind on my Bachelorette watching, having been in Europe last week. So last night/this morning I managed to crank out last week's ep (which the President so rudely interrupted - WTF), the Men Tell All (which was a complete letdown sans Bentley), last night's finale AND the After the Rose special. All told, 7 freaking hours of Ashley and her ever-shrinking outfits. Le sigh.

And BIG le sigh re: Ben C. I so heart him. And I so knew he was a goner when he started telling the camera about being engaged. Wah. Call me, Benny. We'll get you a quick haircut and then we can start dating. K?

Is this a French thing?

Picture it: I'm at the train station yesterday morning, waiting for my chunnel back to London to fly home. Waiting, and waiting. All of a sudden, there was a huge explosion. Apparently there was an unattended bag left in the station, and so they blew it up. Um, what? Do they do this in America? Not sure I understand the logic behind it - what if it WAS a bomb? Wouldn't blowing it up kind of defeat the purpose and cause the bomb to explode anyway?

Regardless, Paris was amazing. I might write a book on how to see it in 24 hours. Because that's basically what I did. The Eiffel Tower, a cruise down the Seine, Notre Dame, Arc de Triomph, Saint Germain des Pres...and finished it off with a mani/pedi. Seriously considered asking for a FRENCH manicure...but is that just a manicure over there??