Thursday, April 28, 2011


Paris hates you.
Things you can't do in France (this sign is clearly out of date because it doesn't include no burqas):
Window display at Monoprix (French Target):
For only 35 euros you too can look like a real American.
America is the new black.
Wine Museum on Water Street.
All the parks in the rich neighborhoods have pony rides, but you have to pay for them. You also have to pay to go on the swing sets. Nothing can buy you the right to go on the grass.
I spend all my time in parks sitting next to the grass longing for the day that I'm rich enough to go on the swings.
My parents invited me to spend a few days with them in Spain.
I took one picture per day.
My mom took way more.
"Let yourself be tempted: Intensely Farting, Finely Farting"
Most popular lunch formula in France:
"2012 not even scared"
My friend tried to tell me that this was a reference to the elections, not the apocalypse. Impossible.
Sweet restaurant name: "At the Dog who Smokes."
A kid at school today asked me if my "country of origin" was near the Amazon.
Best goodbye note I got from a student: "Love you Kelsey. Love you because you be good."

Friday, April 15, 2011



I am really enjoying imagining the situation that led up to this tampon being abandoned on the sidewalk.
"Bite" does not mean bite in French.
Looking forward to never having to answer the question "Ca veut dire quoi mudderfuukerr?" from an 8 year old again.
La classe.
A beautiful lake.
A beautiful bridge.
A beautiful park where people yell at you if you touch the grass:
Flowers that no one is allowed to smell:
I went on vacation.
To Corsica.
Here are some palm trees:
Here are some cars:
Here I am relaxing:
Here is a church.
Here is a statue.
Bloody Islands.
We went on a hike.
It was supposed to end at "the most beautiful beach near Ajaccio."
We saw the most beautiful beach from afar.
But we couldn't figure out how to get to it.
Ansel Adams.
Here I am not on the beautiful beach:
Here I am posing as the unabomber:

Monday, April 4, 2011


Beastly and mean dog.
His Majesty.
No soiling or urinating.
Look who I found!
"Kelsey go pose with your compatriots."
Rimbaud statue. Rimbaud is the only French author I have read while living here.
Back door.
Hiding from life amongst animal carcasses.
Bretagne. I went to visit a friend of my parents.
My parents took her to see Haystack rock when she came to Portland in the 90s so she took me to see this.
Bretagne is the Oregon of France.
Everyone makes fun of it because it rains all the time.
St. Malo.
This town was completely destroyed in WWII but they rebuilt it to look like it did before. "C'est du faux vieux."
Taking pictures for mom.
The forest where Merlin and Morgana and Vivienne and Sir Lancelot used to hang out and cast spells on each other. Now live action role players pretending to be those people hang out here.