I finally got around to filling out my Parisian evaluations. Here are some excerpts:

Being outside of the United States has definitely allowed me to grow tremendously. I found myself in the scenario of the person who only truly findshave perspective on their situation once they remove themselves from the situation entirely. As an American, coming from arguably the most dominant country in the world, with the American view on globality beating down upon me daily, it is very difficult to transcend the American viewpoint and the American information bubble. By leaving the country for long enough to call another place my home, I was able to embody another culture, and a very politically concious culture at that. This was wonderful because it allowed me to take a step back from the American canvas and then look at it from an outsider point of view, giving me truer clarity in my views on America and an objective viewpoint from which to criticize not only my country but also my own daily doings. The perspective comes in two ways. For one, you can see overall how another country differs from yours and how others see your country and its political stance. Secondarily, you see how everyday life, la vie quotidienne, compares from once country to another, the overlaps, the differences, everything. I feel as if being abroad allowed me to truly see how far the consumerism that runs the American machine goes. It allowed me to bounce my ideas about culture off of people outside the country. This experience allowed me to see the most obvious shortcomings that I would have overlooked, such as the fact that Americans truly do not read, things would add directly to how we are able to succumb to the Big Business monster. Just the simple difference on public transportation. In France, the majority of ppl have books or newspapers they were reading. This, in and of itself, creates and entirely different zeitgeist then the one we have in America, where we are spoon-feed information through the popular media. Combine this with the fact that every French person has some political agenda and you have a people that stand much more aware of themselves and the world then us. Every new french person I met had a question for me about American politics. American politics. They knew enough about our politics to ask me informed questions, to some of which i sadly was either ignorant or had no answer. This is incredible and sad, the former for them and the latter for us.

The social hierarchy is completely different. The views towards migrant culture, ethnic interaction and economical difference and nearly incomparable. (this section will take a while… file it on rememberTHEmilk for another day)

A few sundays ago, I got hit abt a fashion show at SupperClub in the city. It was my first time i had been to Supper, though i had heard abt it a couple times b4. (WAIT WAIT WAIT) Let me hit rewind real quick. As im driving around the city, i get a call from one of my favorite new American friends i met out in France, Jenn. She hit me cause her friend was out here for the weekend and didnt kno anybody in the ciudad, and thusly didnt kno wat to when night time came around. So, after i met wit cuzzo Chuk, we headed down to the marriot DownTown to pick up Saras. The three of us then hit Supper. real nice venue, two floor dance area surrounded by white linen couches. Turns out, the old friend that hit me, was in the show. But, admittedly, me being me, i ran rather late, so i caught the models and their ridiculously eccentric DiPietro Todd HURR dews while they ripped the dancefloor instead of the runway. i Caught up with courtney, the inviter, in full grab for a couple pictures. Pretty good for a SundayNight taking a friend around my fav city, THE CITY.

PS: the craziest part abt the whole thing is that my moms used to get cut at DiPietro Todd back when our fam was eating for god knows how much. Thats a far ways back from her Walgreens hair color and self cut hair shes on now. Life will throw u curves so be ready if the fastball u expect doesnt come.

Aww… throwback… almost America’s Top Model.

The New Fam from the NOla…. livinSTRoNG, after the SToRM

TOwn shit wit the new Man

The new C+ earrings are now available online. Get urself a purr….. and b the first wit the new shit while also supporting an up n coming artistic mind.

I prefer the Planet of the Grapes.

GL4M x C+, the collab project part UNO

With the current ease of manipulation and then dissimulation of information came an over saturation of promotional information. This saturation comes in the form of flyers, emails, social network messages and groups. Every morning, i receive and invite to at least fourteen-teen or twenty seben heif new events on my facebook. I could chalk that off to my popularity and be happy about it (as the leo side of me wants to) but i have to be honest and think that this is a little over the top. With this being said, every once in a while, i encounter an event invite that is really worth while. A friend of mine i met out in Paris, someone whose actual name was very elusive to me, invited me to the FORnaRINA Urban FASHion Show.
Now, lets start with his name. When he was introduced to me, my friend Laura just said his name was Crazy, so i started thinking that was his name. then another called him paul. then his facebook said de. To this day i am not sure wat his name really is, but hes a cool cat either way.

Anyways. After the signup and printing of the tickets, i rushed out of class to meet MRint at the Carosel du Louvre to see what was really good with this fashion show. I mean, admittedly lame as i am, i had no idea who fornarina was or wat their brand was abt but they hooked me at urban fashion show. It seemed like the place i needed to be. As i rode the one train to the lourve, i had the usual pregame jitters. You know, when ur headed out, to meet a friend, go to a new club, hit a new party, you always get a lil nervous en route, wondering if its poppin schmackin, yankin. You kno. you worry if u will get in smoothly or if u will b subject to some form of hatred from the harbinger of Hate that is the bouncer community. (PS: i actually jocked some girl at the Glow concert for having a “I LOVE HATE” t, but really it would have been better if it was a i love hate from all but security. lol. Anyways. Again. As i pulled up, meaning, as i strolled over from the metro platform, i saw caught in a mixed emotional moment. I was struck but the extreme length of the line to get into the event. First, reassurance. Yes, i must be in the right spot. then anguish. Wat the fuck am i gonna do about this line? then, hope. Do i kno anybody in line ahead of me? then, sadness. I do but she is like three ppl ahead. Damn.
Once i finally got in the wait was worth the while, the hour while. There were hella (yea, hella) different rooms, a party room, a show room, a VIP drink for free room, a room with a giant pink dinosaur, a room with stupid amounts of pink bicycles… Really, it was like an adults playground. There was a dance floor (that heated up as the night went on), free heineken, all kinds of candy, and kettle corn. models doin interesting interpretive dance numbers telling stories of underwater kingdoms and stuff (yea, just a crazy as it sounds) and then to top it off, i get bumped dumb hard by security. Yea, i was just minding my business, watching the lil model show/story, and then some big ugly fake fabio ponytail mf nearly knocked me over. Im thinkin damn, again with the hate. But then all was put into perspective. I saw why space was being cleared. The bouncers had tried to subtly sneak Lindsay Lohan into the event. Two ppl away from me, following me around the world. I felt pretty good about wat i was doin with my life. Like the french say “La vie est BELLE”.

Hello all,

As you have probably noticed i haven’t been writing as frequently as in the past. The reason for this is that I have returned to my life’s homepage, SF. Im back in the city and readjusting to my schedule out here. Btw interning, working, hooping and taking care of the fam (not necessarily in that order) I have had a hard time figuring out where I want to fit my blog time in. Its a work in progress, as is the rest of life. But I apologize for seemingly leaving you and, as Hancock said: “I am the only one of my kind…. and i will do better”

the First edition of the living globally chronicles has ended, and i find myself back in my stomping grounds. No no, not the clouds, the clouds are like google desktop or netvibes, they embody the cloud computer, no pun intended. But yea, im back in THEcity, back in SF. As they say, we will always have Paris. I have to say, im glad to b back, there are some things u cant get out there, things i didnt notice until i left the country. Dont get me wrong, i love paris, and i will b back quicker than u can say “poopty poopty pants-ssss”. But i had to kno i was back fri. As i drove down to HP pavillion in San Jose, the excitement built itself up inside me. I was on the way to “Glow in the Dark”, the add on show in the bay area, seemingly meant just for me, who could not go to the show on 4.19 because i was in Paris. The show was amazing, Lupe kilt it, then NERD. wow. I went so bad i almost fell back into the row behind me. O yea, i forgot to mention, i was in the 7th row on the floor. Yea, i had a groupie moment. Yea, i got a handshake from mrBillionaireBOYZ. Yea, im juiced. Anyway, the show was crazy, diddy already said it. Ye came out at the end n quelled the haters n the bitchassness by coming out at the end n saying that if someone who designed computers said he had some new tech that was better then the shit we had 30 years ago, he would b applauded so y cant ye say hes better then john lennon??? Ill leave the question to u…

Sorry for the poor quality on the images but they were being hella sticklers. you werent even supposed to have a camera inside, i snuck it in jail house style, those pics will come soon. for now u guys have to settle with the iphone photos. Fitting with the hopes of a 3g iphone that might drop today…

Before i even start, i will apologize to those who happen upon this blog who are from philly and truly appreciate the art of the original Philly CheeseSteak sandwich, a sandwich that i have never had in philly but the closest i have found is the CheeseSteak Shop on DIVISe in the city. With that being said, since i dont even eat steak, “real” phillies and I could never b close friends. First flag comes from the chicken alternative to steak. Second flag comes from the fact that i like the teriyaki philly that OBW puts out anyways. to my knowledge, but correct me if im wrong, a “real” philly consists of thinly sliced steak, a traditional roll and cheese, or CheeseWiz. I way far from that when i desire a philly. I like peppers, onions provolone and chicken, pos with a teriyaki glaze. As i counted down the daze (pun intended, the daze is the reason y i havent been posting) till i returned to the land of my maturation, i figured i would bring a couple of ppl in on my craving for the OBW philly. Marinated the chicken with the salt n the pepper n a lil cayenne for spice and the soy vay teriyaki i imported from AMERIKA. let that sit for at least 30, allow the juices to soak in. get you a nice french bread. I have realized over the course of my sandwich eating years that the bread really does make the sandwich, mikes sourdough out in san Rafael, for example. The Amoroso’s Baking Company bread that is typically used in Philly is the key to the sandwich in my mind. Either way, sautee some green bells and some onions. Sautee the chicken too, and then throw you queso of choice on the top. This is the key, melt the cheese, then place the bread right up there. this way as u flip the bread w. the chicken and the veggies it will be eat ready. and there u go… ur in tha Giant’s version of philly… ha.

PS: add a lil dandelion right as you eat and u will really b cookin

A few weekends ago i had an epiphany. It was not sparked by something majestic, some picture, scene art that was so moving that it changed my outlook. No, it was much simpler, something for the everyday man. Tim and I had just gotten back from eating dinner at his house after a long day of basketball at the park. We walked into my apt around eleven, thinking we were going to have a strong drink and then head out to a bar to meet some friends. Then, the “element perturbateur”. We sit, one on the coach and one in the lounge chair, and nearly fall asleep. Big problem for people who wanna go out. MrIntl shoots me an idea… “y dont we invite them here?” On short phone call and next thing i know i see this:

Now, you might see this as something great. A wonderful view, an excellent thing to see out of your window everyday. And since you might know that i forcibly looked at that view everyday since it was right out of my french style windows and very hard to miss, you might ask urself y this exact picture was so marking. Well, if you notice, in the background, the sun is coming up. This is all well and good but, it means that the phone call actually lead to a very late night, a complete 180 from the sleepiness of 11pm. With this call, an entire party ensued. Drinking, dancing, french, americans. All this from one simple phone call. An entire group of ppl left being “out” to come chill with me and tim. As i sat eating my brochette frite, i realized that i had truly made friends out in Paris. i mean, there were the obvious ones, tim and others that were my american friends. But, the ppl at my house were not mostly american, or even half. they were swedish. they were french. I had actually done it. I penetrated the french nose up culture and found a niche full of great frenchies. Im just glad this kind of thing doenst happen everytime i stay in. HA

Not to mention this type of thing happened again on several subsequent occasions and nearly lead to me being kicked out of my apt…

Adding to the uniqueness of my life, my parents (primarily my moms) decided to raise me as a vegetarian, with the exception of scale fish. This continued until i was 12 and i decided to starting eating chicken like my pops. Yea, my parents were very empowering so the agency i have over my own life and my situations stems from my parents. Anyways, during the time that i was a veggie, i ate a whole lot of falafel. ALOT. at least once a week. In SF, we have some pretty good ones, try 19th n Irving if ur lookin, but out here they also dominate this vegetarian delicacy. With that being said, i am not attempting to say that french people understand vegetarians, just the other day i was at an African restaurant and they served my vegetarian friend a sauce that was made with porc but scooped the pork out. Sometimes they will not serve you cheese, sometimes that means you eat fish, or even lamb or even chicken. Crazy cultural misunderstanding. Anyways, Rue de Rosiers…. bomb falafels. I would recommend L’AS de falafel. fresh pita. shredded red and white cabbage. tomatoes. cucumbers. falafel balls. deep fried eggplant. hummus. tahini sauce. and if ur tryin to spice it up (you kno i like that spice) get the Lenny Kravitz special wit the Harissa. they double layer the aforementioned combo. Real good stuff. Its kinda crazy because in my carnivorous days i forgot the appeal of meatless meal. a light full, great for pre exercise. If u come to paris, u really should go get one… its that serious, call it the cancer special.

This is not AS but its Chez mariane… good but not the joog shop like the lenny kravitz spot

After we stopped for a nice traditional french macaroon, with fresh raspberries, much better than that coconut bull….

I cant help but b amused by the irony of havin a street called “BadBOYs” in the castro of PARIS…. too much