I have been remiss in posting, but here’s good news!  My travel buddy, Tiffany, a friend from high school, is not yet back in school.  That’s right, they don’t start until February!  Can you imagine!?  February. So, lucky for you (?), she has composed a guest post about our travels.  Without further ado…

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Bonjour readers =) You are in for a treat today: a guest blog! This is Cindy’s good friend Tiffany and more recently, Cindy’s comrade on our fabulous trip to France. It was absolutely one of the best trips I have ever taken, and I highly recommend a trip to France to all those who have never been there. Heck, bring Cindy along too. Then you can relive my experience =P

So what is Paris like? Well, it is all Eiffel Tower, museums, coffee, bakeries, and shopping. Basically, everything anyone has ever told you about Paris. But despite all that I have ever heard, I still was not prepared for what Paris is really like. For one, it is a big city on a very small area of land. Walking from one end of Paris to the other, and I’m talking about edge of suburbia to other edge of suburbia, is definitely feasible if you’re willing to go on foot for probably 3 to 4 hours. Crazy right? I wouldn’t even dare dream about walking from one end of New York City to the other unless I had an entire day. French people are also an entire other aspect. Or maybe just people in Paris since those were pretty much the only French people I was exposed to. First of all, the French are not as rude as their stereotype. Or maybe I was just imagining egregious snubbing, in which case, it is not difficult to exceed expectations. Honestly, though, I found the French very friendly. They say hi to strangers, perhaps even more so than people in the United States. Then again, I’m so used to ignoring the people in my surroundings while at college that my personal experience is most likely a very terrible example to base off of. All I can say for myself is that I definitely said hi to more strangers in France than ever at home. Their fashion during the winter is definitely all drab, dark colors. Everyone in France wore black, gray, or dark shades, and that coupled with the rain, snow, and clouds was pretty dreary at first, but you get used to it. I’m sure it’s just a winter fashion thing because their spring lines came out while we were there, and the colors were definitely very spring-like.

Ok, enough about France for now; I don’t want to bore you ten sentences into this entry, so I’ll tell you about me and Cindy’s first, slightly amusing mishap. As a quick background, in France, Cindy and I stayed with a family friend of mine in a small suburb right outside of Paris called Issy les Moulineaux. It was actually a great location because we lived within 3 minutes walking distance of the train station. Train and subway is seriously the only way to get around Paris if you don’t want to walk, and the system is very good, though there are daily delays and quite a few “accidents.” I should probably also clarify the family friend aspect. We were actually staying at my mom’s friend’s ex-husband’s place in France. He’s definitely a character… Shu Shu is very cheap, as in frugal up to the point where it’s simply ridiculous. He’s been in France for the past year because his company in Taiwan sort of sent him out on this long-term business trip. I found him all at once to be absurd, amusing, annoying, and I guess my relation to him began and ended the same way after three weeks – acquaintances. I definitely relied a lot on Cindy to keep conversations going at breakfast or dinner. My Chinese is most definitely not as fluent as hers nor am I willing to maintain conversations, so Cindy was definitely a lifesaver. His wife, on the other hand, is really amiable and funny, so that was definitely a plus. Ok, but what of the mishap that I totally got off topic from? Alright. So it’s maybe three days into our trip and it’s something like 10 pm. I was lying in bed, about to sleep, and Cindy had just gone to the bathroom and was now brushing her teeth. A while later, she comes in and lies down, and we’re both laying there in the dark, listening to the toilet still run from flushing when Cindy then turns to me and asks, “Is the water still supposed to be running like that?” At the time, I was thinking the exact same thing because the water had definitely been running long enough to become noticeable. We both get up to inspect the toilet, and it must have been near midnight by now. I think we both might have been a bit nervous because we really couldn’t wake Shu Shu up to ask how to fix the toilet since it was late and he had work tomorrow. And besides, it’s kind of embarrassing having to tell your hosts that you broke their toilet less than a week in. It also didn’t help that it was at this most inconvenient time that I was beginning to remember that the other day, the drain on their bath tub was slightly clogged while I was showering. I mean, seriously, why not just pour on the bad news right? “Morning Shu Shu. Um… while you were sleeping, Cindy and I kind of broke the toilet, and your drain is now clogged. I kind of noticed it while showering last night.” It just would not have gone over well, especially since I suspect that the drain stoppage was due to mine and Cindy’s hair…

Anyway, Cindy and I decide to lift the ceramic cover on the back of the toilet. While she holds it up, I kind of start fiddling with the pipes and stuff inside. Eventually, we manage to get this central tube to disengage, and the water stops flowing and actually starts to accumulate in the tank. Hooray, we fixed it! Cindy puts the ceramic cover back on, and we happily go to the sink to wash our hands. Cindy picks up the bar of soap next to the sink and starts scrubbing her hands, and I offhandedly comment, “Oh, is that the soap you’ve been using?” She looks at me confusedly and responds, “Um, yes?” She then watches as I pick up this bottle on the other side of the sink with a blue clear-ish liquid, examining it while wondering aloud, “Wait, then what is this?” I turn around the bottle, which I had assumed was soap since it had the pumping type of nozzle, to read the label and was horrified to read something about daily facial cleansing something. “Oh my god! I can’t believe I’ve been using facial cleanser for hand soap!” Cindy proceeds to burst out laughing, and we hurry back to our bedroom. Not only do we manage to nearly break the toilet and clog the bathtub, but I had been using Shu Shu’s wife’s facial wash to wash my hands for the past few days. Cindy and I both agreed as we got back into bed that we would definitely not mention to them any of this, and we finally got to sleep a little before midnight.

Moral of this little story? None really. Just know that living with Cindy seriously isn’t that bad. There are definitely other tales I could regale you of Brussels, beer, and boys, but that might have to wait a bit as this story took a lot longer to write than expected. ~Tiff

4:15 PM me: hi
Cindy: hi.
4:17 PM this is what i see…
Punal is busy. You may be interrupting.
me: lol
oooo
oops
4:18 PM there
Cindy: hahahaha
who doesn’t?
4:19 PM me: exactly
wssup
Cindy: not too much
just getting ready to get ready to go out
haha
4:20 PM me: ohhhh
where u goingg
Cindy: what about you?
dinner with thursday plan, and then maybe a cookie party, and maybe a cocktail party
4:22 PM what are you up to?
me: im packing

4:23 PM Cindy: ohhh
you’re leaving…the 26th?
4:24 PM me: 25th!!!
4:25 PM Cindy: OH
4:26 PM me: yeah!!!!
4:27 PM Cindy: um
should we hang out?
haha
4:28 PM me: haha
4:29 PM if you wanan come over tonight
after you come back
from whereever you going to
varsha si coming over
Cindy: ok!
i’ll give you a call to make sure it’s ok
4:31 PM me: haha
k coo
4:32 PM Cindy: yay
4:33 PM me: when r u going
Cindy: i’m not sure
my friend’s going to call me
4:34 PM me: haha
okok
4:35 PM Cindy: interested?
4:36 PM me: in ur firend?
who is he/she
Cindy: hahahaha no, interested in dinner
4:37 PM it’s thursday plan
zach
me: oh
naw i gotta hit the gym
wth my friend mohammad
at 7
lol
4:38 PM Cindy: seriously?
4:39 PM also, is mohammad muslim? do your parents know!?
me: haha
my parents know
and mohammad is muslim
are hardcore
*and
Cindy: uh oh!
4:44 PM me: haha
why
Cindy: trouble trouble
4:45 PM religious strife
me: haha
Cindy: so i think i need to try to seduce my genetics gsi
4:46 PM me: how?!
4:47 PM Cindy: idk…i mean, i’m not very seductive
maybe he likes small asian girls…?!
we can always keep our fingers crossed
4:48 PM me: hmm
why dont you try
Cindy: i’ll TRY
but i’m not seductive
4:49 PM me: yes you can be
purr
purr cindy purr
Cindy: wow
that’s quite possibly the most disturbing thing you’ve said to me!
5 minutes
4:55 PM me: lol
sorry
he he he
4:56 PM Cindy: haha
but yeah
i’ll have to talk strategy with you
when next semester commences
and i start working my…lack-of-game
4:57 PM me: oh
no worries
we will talk
and stategize
Cindy: he’s pretty nerdy
me: and etc etc
easy
Cindy: maybe it’ll work in my favor
4:58 PM hahahahaha
but what if i’m not smart enough?
5:00 PM *sigh *
too difficult
me: ur smart neough
cuz u will use MY brains
5:01 PM Cindy: hahahahahahhaa
punal
you basically just said that my brains aren’t enough
5:03 PM me: hahahahha
oops
i didnt mean that
Cindy:
you so did
5:04 PM me: hahaha
NOOO
Cindy: which is fine
it just means that we’d BOTH have to date rich
5:05 PM me: i mean
i am
lol
Cindy: wait?
what?
5:07 PM me: i do date rich
5:08 PM Cindy: his name is richard
me: richard!?
oh
RICH
OH
Cindy: => rich
me: i get it
haha
Cindy: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
me: i thot u emant
like
5:09 PM date wealthy
hahah
Cindy: ppbt!

me: please put that on ur blog
lol
Cindy: HAHAHAHA you should
tonight
me: hahahahah
Cindy: i’ll come over
5:10 PM me: alrite fine
Cindy: and log you in
me: haha
kk
5:12 PM Cindy:
5:13 PM me: its pris happy birthday !
5:14 PM Cindy: aw yay!
are you guys celebrating?
5:15 PM me: she is in london
lol
so no
haha
Cindy: oh!
study abroad? pleasure?
5:16 PM me: i think pleaseure
before she goes to india
Cindy: oh! cool. how long will she be in india?
5:18 PM me: til
foroever
until school starts
haha
5:19 PM Cindy: aww
5:20 PM me: lol
Cindy: so my mom heard me on the phone with thursday plan just now
we were figuring out what to do for dinner
5:21 PM so she starts going, “we can all go to sweet tomatoes together!”
hahahahahahaha
me: LOL
oh wow
Cindy: that would be random as hell
5:22 PM me: haha
that would be awesome
Cindy: dude
i should bring him over to your house
duh
5:26 PM me: LOL
oh
wow
5:27 PM Cindy: so punal
you like to date rich, hm?
me: yes
i do
have a problem!?
5:28 PM Cindy: um yeah. because i want to date rich
hahahahahahaha
5:29 PM me: no
u want to date Rich
i just want to date rich
difference
thank you
come again
Cindy: hahahahahaha
come again? i sure hope so
5:30 PM ok i gotta go get ready
byyyye

As promised, today I bring you a guest post.  Let me introduce you to my friend, Getty, a fellow linguist.  His email said: Here was what I have written up – unedited, really, just the raw ramblings. Tell me if it ought to be longer or shorter or less weird or what. I’ve been reading a lot of Neal Stephenson, which has a lot of overstatement, and I’m pretty sure that showed up there.

As you’ll soon see, though, the best version is the un-edited version.  So, without further ado, I give you, The Talk, Getty Version.
——————————————————-

It was never like sex was a secret at our house. As a young child, my parents would watch movies that other parents might attempt to censor well into a child’s teenage years, if only to avoid the awkward explanations of what those people were doing with sheets conveniently covering their naughty bits. Home videos reveal my grandfather – a coarse, often offensive old man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and a considerable belly from years of alcoholism – being frankly shocked by my mother’s candid discussion of breasts while my brother and I were nearby. And I suppose the real talk happened when I was very young – three, or four, I can’t remember – and I asked my mother at point-blank range.

“Mommy, where do babies come from?”

She looked at me and smiled, and explained to me that when a man and a woman want a child, the man inserts tab a into slot b and then the sperm hunt down the egg and so forth. She was, as a matter of fact, a labor coach, and thus had a great deal of knowledge about babies – not to mention the fact that she had two of them. She took care to explain that for nine months, the fetus develops, and then is birthed. I fixed her with my three-year-old eyes and told her, “I don’t believe you!”

I could go on and list other adorable children-talking-about-sex stories, such as when I offered suggestions for why my mother didn’t have a penis, or my brother’s misunderstandings about how cat sex worked, but that’s not really the point of this piece of writing. My parents weren’t overly protective, and they were always candid enough – however, they also had a somewhat odd sense of humor, which is why, when I was in eighth or ninth grade or so, my mother called me in to her room before the family retired for the night.

“I know you already know some of these things, but I feel like it’s my duty as a parent to educate you. So, I think we need to have The Talk.”

Already, I could feel every rational impulse in my head urging me to dash out the door, and most of the other impulses urging me to dash out the window. Against the better judgement of every conscious neuron firing in my brain, I sat down and nodded apprehensively.

“You already know about sex.” It wasn’t a question. It was fairly impossible not to know about sex. Even if the exact physiological details hadn’t yet been revealed to me, even if I had never put a condom on a banana, even if I had never seen a nude woman that was not on a TV screen or made out of marble, I knew quite enough that, should an occasion arise in which I would be called upon to save humanity by having sex (humor me here), I wouldn’t let my fellow human beings down. So, inasmuch as it was possible for a nerdy, introverted twelve-year-old boy, I knew about sex.

“Yes, mother, I know about sex.” Now the question was whether this was going to be merely aggravating or actually painful.

She thought, clearly trying to taking her job as a mother as seriously as possible. “Well, do you know about sixty-nine?”

I nodded, edging into a position where I could tumble backwards out the window, if the situation required it – which it did. “Yes, mom, I know about sixty-nine.” (Around sixth grade, I decided that mommy was too childish, and consciously switched to calling her mom in order to sound more adult and less reliant on her. I would on occasion use it in a pointed, almost patronizing way to let her know that she wasn’t mommy anymore – she was mom, and I was no longer her little baby. I would later do the same thing with mother.)

“I just feel like I haven’t been teaching you enough, like I’m failing as a mother. I need to teach you something new.” She adjusted her glasses and sat up a bit. A smile spread across her face – clearly, she had thought of something to teach me, something which I hadn’t known before. “Well, do you know about golden showers?”

“I’m leaving now,” I said. And I did.

And that was the Talk.

Actually, not, because it’s a home game!  Without further ado, I give you Punal, to tell you what we’re doing tonight…

we are going to a giants game! yee! i have a jacket because tis going to be cold. and we are going to eat garlic fries. lots of them. and we are going to need gum.

And now, I’m back.  We’re playing the Padres.  Grr.  And yeah, it’ll be chilly.  And hurray for garlic fries.  And no gum, because a) I don’t like such things and b) NO KISSING!  No getting close enough to even SMELL garlic fries.  Ok?  Thanks.

No seriously.

But we baked today. It was hella amazing. We baked cookies filled with cinnamon seasoned creme cheese and fig jelly filling! Yeeee!

Cindy: “Everytime I see SFSU i think of STFU.”

Oh and there is a show called Little Mosque On the Prairie.

Its a real show, but its canadian. But you can watch it online!

Its about a group of Muslims living in a real white town of Mercy in the middle of the prairies in Canada. Its a baller show, not going to lie. Watch it and tell me if it is not good.

So what up yall. I want to say that life has been pretty boring. Well, I went to Davis for Picnic Day and told my parents it was for a biology field trip. That was pretty fun. It is mostly a blur because for picnic day you get wasted, absolutely trashed. Thats what I exactly did. And boy did I have the time of my life. Not only did i get to witness 1000s of other drunk college students, but I got to see India, yes the India of UCDavis. Cindy knows about this community at Berkeley because that is who i hang out with all the damn time.

Drunk indians are quite humorous, Cindy has seen this with me multiple times. I tend to um make mistakes. But its ok none of them are hardcore…. yet.

But I made no mistakes in Davis, it was great. Cindy talked too much and fell asleep on teh ride back to pleasanton. it was depressing because then I coudlnt talk to cindy.

Anyways, back to India. I talk about India in this blog as a community, not the country. India and I have a love hate relationship. Drama and gossip prevails and it is the ideals that every indian dude and chicks stick by.

I hate drama and gossip, but then again who do i hang out with berkeley… indians. makes me the biggest hypercrite.

but its alrite because im indian.

and yes i can use that as excuse. stupid cindy is going to judge.

Ok we need to study. and cindy is hungry. she is a fattie horse. she came over TO study and what does she do. we gossip and talk about drama. yeah she is indian.

haha

this blog is confusing. im not going to lie. pressing backspace when tying to erase a couple of letters makes me go to a previous page.

i do not what to write as i am paying attention in Cindy’s linguistic class. It is quite interesting. I am tired

Peace out.