Well, not really. I was born in April, same day as Nabokov, Kant and Lenin so I was doomed to dabble in lefty politics, lofty philosophy, highbrow literature, and maybe destined to live in LA too since Jack Nicholson and I also share a birthday.
Unfortunately, no famed artist or art historian was born on the same day, so that part is unexplained, so far. Maybe I landed in the
wrong cultural industry?
So, why then announce Frenchy's B-Day in November, will you be asking, you my smart and observant FBC! readers? Well, for 3 reasons.
a) Because I feel like it,
nan mais alors!
b) Back in April I didn't get to throw myself the huge party I usually do, for cause of too much exhaustion. But I still need a celebration, what if it's 7 months later? I don't care!
c) In case you haven't noticed,
Thanksgiving is next week. Yay!
If you have just joined FBC! (welcome!) you don't know yet
my regular monthly feature,
Thanksgiving In [Insert Month Here]™, created to celebrate just anybody
I feel like celebrating, though if you wish to join the list it's better
to know me personally - it helps greatly - and generally speaking
be nice. For real, everyday of your life. Otherwise, nixt.
Pretend nice? Out of the way!
But this being November and the real Thanksgiving being just around the corner, I needed to do something else. And , I kinda wanted someone to celebrate me, just for once.
In person I am very, very nice, if a bit challenged in the humility department, not to mention vertically, so yeah, maybe I could be celebrated a tiny, tiny bit.
Anyway, since no one else is going to celebrate me and my B-Day was spent doing nothing, here it is.
'nuff said about my Frenchy self, I'm not going to praise myself any further, and I'll be spending Thanksgiving with lovely friends (Hi Austen and Jonathan!).
But, being an impoverished Frenchy vapidly looking for a job in these uncertain economic times, I have a bit of a wish list. I figure, if
I saved you $25 (+tax) and probably a bit more by reading bad books so you
don't need to, you guys could maybe pool your resources and get me presents. No? Yep, I knew you were a bunch of cool people!
So here's my list, dear Santa Claus readers. I
truly need these, I swear, to keep company to my garden gnomes salt and pepper shakers. Speaking of which, this
little fellow would be a welcome addition to my home. I could grow cat grass in the wheelbarrow for Pomme. She really enjoys watching me cooking, in case something would fall on the floor, and since winter is coming I need a
cocotte to make stews. I'd like the
7q in yellow, thanks!
I tend to be very blue in winter (not enough daylight, and blogging doesn't help), and when I was a kid I was reading the stories of
Moomin when in need of comfort. I didn't know there was a
2-volume comic-strips publication. I'd like both, please.
My nerdy self would really enjoy
this translation of one of the greatest art historian in the Universe. I have a French edition but it is not complete (BTW, if someone at the Getty reads me: please put together an edition of Julius von Schlosser's complete writings. Many thanks in advance!).
I don't have a fireplace, but I do have a cat to sit on my lap when reading my Moomin books this winter, and I guess some melancholic soundtrack would be in order. I'm pretty much into
Elliott Smith at the moment but don't own any of his records (I'm streaming music from
here ). Any album would do, really, or better yet, the entire collection!
As much as I like being home, reading, writing the blog, cooking stews, baking cakes and cuddling my cat, sometimes my little Frenchy self needs to venture out in the big bad world, to see some exhibitions or even, the horror! attend openings. It's usually an opportunity eagerly awaited by idiot or otherwise fairly distracted drivers to hit me. It's not that I don't enjoy whiplash and other resulting debilitating back pains,really, but it is starting to grow very stale and feel a tad unfunny. So I'd like
one of these, complete with driver, when I absolutely have to get out of the house.
Failing this, maybe a scapulary, a rosary, a St Christopher medal or two and one Fatma's hand could help, as well as some Jewish and Buddhist lucky charms if these exist (apologies to my Jewish and Buddhist readers for not knowing what these might be).
Aside from this, I'm fine. Of course I could do with
one of these, or maybe with the entire catalogue from
this place or some choice items from
this one, but I don't have enough shelf space at present. I would also very much a curator's job
here, but not until March as I need to finish some project first. I don't need anything from
this place either, but the website is too cool and reminds me slightly of
Fischli and Weiss.My new expanded readership could also help me find someone who's an auditor at Deloitte and Touche, if possible (Accenture would do too). I need to interview someone from there to figure out what job they really do for this thing I'm writing.
Which leads me to the following:
Because, as I was telling you earlier I am very, very nice (and modest,
cela va sans dire), if you do not wish to contribute to the fund to lift my little Frenchy but nevertheless chic spirits (you, cruel and mean you), I suggest you do something even kinder and more generous!
Adopt a striking writer!
Go drive by a picket line, select the most malnourished-looking one, try to lure him (did you see the pictures? They are 80% male picketers!) with some bait (beer, Groundworks coffee or such-like, In'N'Out burgers, macarons from
La Maison du Pain for the sophisticated types), pick them up in your car and take them to your home. They need nourishing food, warm clothing, some place to sleep (your couch is fine) and wash (try to pick up a house-trained one), and lots of cuddling since these disenfranchised souls cannot write and occupy themselves outside of the picket lines. If you're lucky, maybe you'll even spot a cute one!
For the moment these poor stray cuties just need a foster place, but if the
WGA strike prolongs itself well into the winter, it is likely they will need to find their loving forever home.
Don't let these poor innocent writers be
sent to the pound redlisted by the cruel and insensitive studios and producers!
Adopt a writer today! And
Jesus will thank you when you get to heavens (unlike Uncle Sam, since adopting a WGA cutie is not tax-deductible
yet). If you are not a believer, the writer will thank you himself (or herself, if you pick one of the 20% female picketers) by warming your bed this winter, a more immediate reward when you see what energy prices are, no?
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