tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71235012011-09-02T05:57:28.701+02:00exceptionally grumpy personNARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.comBlogger5871100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1142133878422143912006-03-12T04:21:00.000+01:002006-03-12T04:25:17.706+01:00

That's it, the move is official. Come visit me at my Blogsome site. Drop me a line if I've forgotten to update your link, of if you think you deserve one!

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141994020760517362006-03-10T13:31:00.000+01:002006-03-10T13:33:40.776+01:00

I'll be moving my blog soon... I'm running away from the Blogspot platform... will tell you as soon as the new site is ready.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141950211602323492006-03-10T01:20:00.000+01:002006-03-10T01:23:31.620+01:00

As requested, the fondue picture...Unfortunately, the fondue has already been eaten and all that remains is the little shallow pool of cheese at the bottom of the bowl. Please take note that the model's reaction was due more to shame than indigestion. Really people, it's a giant bowl of melted cheese mixed with alcohol and garlic that you dip into bread into.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141751041091014442006-03-07T17:58:00.000+01:002006-03-07T18:07:50.666+01:00

The disgrace of the bird flu has hit Frenchmen hard. Look at them hang their heads in disgrace!Actually, this is a photo I took at the Natural History Museum in Neuchatel, where we were this weekend. They had a special exhibition on chicken... good timing I'd say. It was very entertaining, though I found the permanent exhibition equally stunning. The dioramas were simply gorgeous.Switzerland is

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141233172864043932006-03-01T18:12:00.000+01:002006-03-01T18:48:13.693+01:00

Last night I went to L’Equipe’s 60th anniversary party. It’s the French sports paper, which also runs its own magazine. The party was hilarious, gigantic and filled with obscure sports celebrities.First, I have to say that I hadn’t slept much the night before and was bothered by an unusually vivid dream. In the dream, I lived and worked in a gigantic warehouse space that I shared with others.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141144442039335842006-02-28T17:31:00.000+01:002006-02-28T17:34:02.050+01:00

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1141140618675070992006-02-28T15:21:00.000+01:002006-02-28T16:33:02.940+01:00

Today's news from the INTERNATIONAL HERALD TRIBUNE:FrontpagePace of Protectionism quickens, Economic fallout could be harshaccompanied by photo of Industry Minister François Loos, looking particularly daffy yet dashing with euro-wirebrush hair, surrounded by three very dour non-descript men. Mixture of private and public officials.Article detailing recent tide of protectionist schemes. Though the

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1140913246244195362006-02-26T00:56:00.000+01:002006-02-26T14:52:10.650+01:00

The other night I had dinner another neighbourhood restaurant called La Boulangerie (15 r des Panoyaux, 75020). I take it the site was an old bakery, though there's nothing that remains of the original. The floor is rather a quaint rustic french pattern, though hardly the thing one associates with bakeries.Anyways, we had decided to go there out of Kim's suggestion. She has the most bizarre sense

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1140457518268788432006-02-20T18:35:00.000+01:002006-02-20T18:45:18.283+01:00

I just got back from Marseille, where the show happened. But, this isn't about that. This is about how I feel I'm drifting away from some people. Well, one person in particular...who's only and first reaction to finding out I had a show was to ask me whether I sold anything, not what it was about. In the immortal words of Donald Trump: You're fired.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1140262924863174602006-02-18T12:37:00.000+01:002006-02-20T11:48:47.093+01:00

I have turned comments moderation on because it's not a free world and I refuse to publish the comments of people I think are incapable of understanding subtleties in reasoning. You know who you are and I hope you get your own blog to launch your one-man politically correct war. Naive and hypocritical indeed.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139774967683022602006-02-12T21:06:00.000+01:002006-02-13T03:01:31.050+01:00

I hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from high school, thus it was with some surprise that I learnt recently that an old classmate of mine was involved with music through a rather prosaic message from my old bandmates. I googled his name, came up with his website and subsequently his email address. We made contact.What followed was a quiet kind of correspondence. Polite and warm. During these

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139676765253287252006-02-11T17:19:00.000+01:002006-02-11T17:54:49.220+01:00

Another tennis post. I spent all day yesterday inside a tennis court, watching the quarterfinals for the Paris Open Gaz tournament. The semi-final match-ups were as follows: Patty Schnyder vs. Elena Dementieva; Tatiana Golovin vs. Nadia Petrova; Mary Pierce vs. Emilie Loit; Amelie Mauresmo vs. Dinara Safina.We got there for the end of the first match, which Schnyder won handily. It was amazing to

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139503125805702302006-02-09T17:24:00.000+01:002006-02-09T17:39:53.286+01:00

Last night I was with Kim and we were talking about friendship. I don’t think I need people but, if that were really true, I wouldn’t feel so disappointed when they move off to Barcelona without a heads up. True, Voin is a kind of European gypsy but none of us expected his New Year’s vagabonding to extend to a permanent retreat.Kim, however, didn’t seem to care. She said:-I can’t be disappointed

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139462044938816612006-02-09T05:54:00.000+01:002006-02-09T06:55:24.343+01:00

There are those who ridicule the blog, with it's innate emotional needfulness and the fake play at honesty. Let me be the first to say that manipulation and veracity are overrated, and yet we all play these little games. The only thing I don't agree to is the laughing scornfulness of those who mock the artful blogger. Afterall, how easy is it to mock and ridicule on a blog? Terribly easy, point

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139460754999040762006-02-09T05:50:00.000+01:002006-02-09T05:53:08.510+01:00

I had accidentally turned on comments moderation on my haloscan comments. So, this whole last week, I was like "What the hell?! Nobody reads this blog anymore?" Ahhhhhh, so happy I was to read all my comments chock-a-block. Thanks folks!

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139365449658605522006-02-08T03:15:00.000+01:002006-02-08T03:29:41.926+01:00

Last night, I took the evening off from what has been a ferocious stretch of work. My finnish ex-roommate is in town and last night he and his brother popped over. In true finnish fashion we polished off two bottles of vodka, one lemon, one can of Israeli salted cucumbers, plus our brains. At around midnight, we went for a vodka run but my two six-foot plus bodyguards didn't make it all the way

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1139194901319593652006-02-06T03:44:00.000+01:002006-02-06T04:14:45.870+01:00

At this moment, I'm watching the Superbowl at home. That's right. At home. I can't believe France 2 is showing the Superbowl on television, that I have to watch it by myself, minus screaming friends and other people who know the sport, listening to french commentary, and staying up to ungodly hours of the night. First of all, let me be the first to say that I find it very strange that France's

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138929296459169922006-02-03T02:07:00.000+01:002006-02-03T03:59:52.886+01:00

It's weird to see someone list their 100 Best Records on any given site. Can you imagine the time it takes to listen to 100 records? Can you imagine the time it takes to listen to them often enough, along with the other thousands of records for you to say, yes this is the hundred best? I mean, the only people who have time for that are living in jail or limbless.... or maybe just Rolling Stones

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138909686181488542006-02-02T20:31:00.000+01:002006-02-02T20:48:06.246+01:00

I have a major work (as in job) assignment deadline peeking over my shoulder, and, it is in this, my darkest hour, that I have finally come to grips with the power of my own creativity. Nobody else I know could pick reading Gone With The Wind as a procrastination strategy. Perhaps is the problem with working from home. With no fixed hours, and a grudging acceptation that my best work often comes

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138762273103315022006-02-01T03:50:00.000+01:002006-02-01T03:52:21.133+01:00

Nam June Paik is dead. Crap.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138739176858951042006-01-31T21:15:00.000+01:002006-01-31T21:26:16.956+01:00

Since it's now past January 30, the last official day you're allowed to wish someone Happy New Year in France, we can start contemplating the next great ritual. It's really not that early to be thinking about where you're going to be come mid-July. In fact, holiday rentals can start flying out the door even before Christmas. Will the Nardac be left wrong-footed? No! In fact, today I just

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138685344859789982006-01-31T06:25:00.000+01:002006-01-31T06:29:04.876+01:00

The Jackpot this week is 183 000 000€. Have you played?And if I win, I'll give half of it away... to taxes... ok... it's really something stupid to whine about.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138588040898960842006-01-30T03:18:00.000+01:002006-01-30T03:46:52.646+01:00

The truth about BHL (pronounced BI-ATCH-elle, stands for Bernard-Henri Levy) is simple: he's simplistic, bombastic and a megalomaniac. That's why it doesn't come as any surprise when Garrison Keillor rips him and his new book, Traveling America in the Footsteps of Tocqueville, to tiny little bits. Almost anyone could find BHL's generalisations embarassing. But, I don't really understand why this

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138584261143061322006-01-30T01:12:00.000+01:002006-01-30T02:30:25.810+01:00

Since summer 2004, I have been a fan of Roland Garros. I mean, I remember watching a few games on the clay court when I was younger, most notably the 1989 Chang-Lendl game, but I was never really taken with the orange court. It made for slower play, and seemed somehow more laborious, with it's prolonged baseline exchanges, than the elegant serve and volley of Wimbeldon.In that early summer of

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138536475388793442006-01-29T12:52:00.000+01:002006-01-29T17:38:47.416+01:00

Roger Federer has just won the Aussie Open and is now giving his speech. He is crying his heart out. He has received the trophy from one of his lifetime idols, Rod Laver, and he has equalled Pete Sampras. In my imagination, he's probably just realized that he is on his way to beating Sampras's record, to becoming unequalled in the game of tennis, and realizing how much it means to him.In tennis,

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138419840787442592006-01-28T04:40:00.000+01:002006-01-28T05:10:38.610+01:00

Amelie Mauresmo has just won her first Grand Slam in Melbourne after the retirement of Justine Henin-Hardenne. Amelie must hold some record on this... She advanced twice by Michaela Krajicek's and Kim Clijsters's retirements from injury, and now has the title with Justine's throwing in the towel. I'm not sure what Justine's injury/illness is at this moment but it must have been grave and terrible

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138391343797084712006-01-27T20:16:00.000+01:002006-01-28T03:58:56.476+01:00

Which one am I?ex·pa·tri·atev. ex·pa·tri·at·ed, ex·pa·tri·at·ing, ex·pa·tri·ates v. tr.To send into exile. See Synonyms at banish. To remove (oneself) from residence in one's native land. n. One who has taken up residence in a foreign country. One who has renounced one's native land. 1768, from Fr. expatrier "banish," from ex- "out of" + patrie "native land," from L. patria "one's native

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138380128971201922006-01-27T17:33:00.000+01:002006-01-27T17:45:49.056+01:00

I'm drunk... no... really. It's been a long week and cracked open the Bordeaux a couple of hours early. Whatever. Drained, overworked... but still, there's one last hill to climb.The finals....Amelie Mauresmo and Justine Henin-HardenneAt this stage of the game, it's like playing the lottery. The special circumstances surrounded finals means that both players have to be considered as x-factors.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138316117159357042006-01-26T23:12:00.000+01:002006-01-27T00:08:12.060+01:00

La Terre Abandonnée was released in french theatres yesterday. It's by my former classmate, and Benoit's friend, Vimukthi. I saw the giant poster in the metro, as well as receiving a rather self-congratulatory email from one of the assistants as the school. I laugh at the self-congratulation, given that this same school kicked Vimukthi out in his second year for trying to do something they'd

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138280393896615852006-01-26T13:43:00.000+01:002006-01-26T19:10:40.170+01:00

MARCOS BAGHDATIS has just prevailed over David Nalbandian in 5 stupendous thunderous sets. Legend! 3-6, 5-7, 6-3, 6-4, 6-4. The boy has ripped through Roddick, Ljubicic, and Nalbandian to get there, probably the hardest ride to pick to get into the finals!Jim Courier:What does it feel like to win this game?Marcos Baghdatis:"I don't know what to say, it's just amazing."How did you come back from

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138209706417814582006-01-25T17:51:00.000+01:002006-01-25T19:05:32.246+01:00

I was wrong on several counts in my last prediction. Yes, I did predict three of the four winners on the women's draw, and three of the four in the men's, but I was off on many of the set predictions. There were surprises.Federer, for example, wasn't playing like Federer and Davydenko was actually, in my opinion, capable of taking the game. He played magnificently and it's a shame he caved in

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138189259619029542006-01-25T12:32:00.000+01:002006-01-25T12:47:07.260+01:00

This just popped up in my mailbox from the Palais de Tokyo website:HAPPY END PARTYVendredi 27 Janvier 2006... ...... .. . . ...... .... .. ..... ...... ........ ......... ....De 20h30 à l'aube, Grande Soirée Musicale et Convivialepour fêter le départ de Nicolas Bourriaud et Jérôme Sans... ...... ... ... ..... ..... ...... .... ..... ..... . . .. ... .....free admission, all

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138181340685588242006-01-25T09:26:00.000+01:002006-01-26T00:40:48.430+01:00

I don't do restaurant reviews often for the simple reason that I don't go to restaurants often. But, those days are changing. Last night, I ate at a restaurant in my neighbourhood that I'll be going back to, again and again. Le Baratin is a wine bar, with a list of red and whites by the glass, and everything I've had there has been delicious and interesting, but it was the food that wowed me last

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138048526719616082006-01-23T21:17:00.000+01:002006-01-24T06:39:22.643+01:00

I like this meme from Tym, which I tagged myself to complete. Normally it's four, but because this is my 555th post, I've decided to do 5.5 books that changed your lifeWomen in Love by D.H. LawrenceThe Invisible Dragon by Dave HickeyAs They Were by MFK FisherArt Theory 1900-1990 Harrison and WoodTess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (funny because my cousin listed another Hardy book)5 people

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1138029752365904172006-01-23T16:01:00.000+01:002006-01-23T18:14:35.546+01:00

The Australian Open has never looked so open and deep. There are players on a comeback, unknown young players, and injured players on a roll. All the quarterfinalists have already played magnificent games. With cream of the crop present, it looks like the upcoming matches should all be good ones, with one or two exceptions, of course.Justine Henin-Hardenne vs. Lindsay DavenportLindsay Davenport

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137955189815609952006-01-22T19:20:00.000+01:002006-01-23T03:16:28.283+01:00

I love my country... Canada. I can say this without irony because I really do love Canada. It's peaceful, big, beautiful, with an amazing standard of public education, healthcare and support for culture. Canada is quite prosperous right now while still remaining a fairly socialist country. It is a model immigration nation and one of the easiest places to live. Unemployment is down, and cultural

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137947891332228852006-01-22T17:13:00.000+01:002006-01-23T03:20:23.966+01:00

Incredible! Nothing short of INCREDIBLE! Marcos Baghdatis, of Cyprus, has pulled off an amazing and beautiful upset of Andy Roddick, 6-4 1-6 6-3 6-4, sending him into the Quarterfinals against Ivan Ljubicic. Ljubicic himself is playing at a phenomenal level, completely destroying Thomas Johansson, the 2002 Aussie Open Champion, with pinpoint winners and killer serves. The match between these two

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137775018464263892006-01-20T17:23:00.000+01:002006-01-20T22:44:06.423+01:00

It's bad enough that they let their pooches do No.2 all over the place. The worst is when they encourage said beasts with pats and snacks after it has crapped. Imagine yourself walking to work in the morning when suddenly your eyes are arrested by the disturbing image of a little Yorkshire terrier sniffing at a gigantic hump of human-sized shit. Rain is falling in dew-like wisps... The dog turns

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137756813473273262006-01-20T12:14:00.000+01:002006-01-20T17:23:26.386+01:00

There's a real heat wave sweeping over the Australian Open right now. Temperatures are supposed to climb to the low 40s tomorrow and there's talk of suspending play in the afternoon due to dangerous conditions. This afternoon, under scorching heat, Fabrice Santoro won against former French Open Champion, Gaston Gaudio. I hope the Magician can keep on going!Later on, played under cooling evening

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137707856191193802006-01-19T22:11:00.000+01:002006-01-20T11:39:42.196+01:00

You're going to have to indulge me on this. I'm too obsessed to think or talk about anything else. I've got Aussie Open Fever. Today, I woke up and listened to Lleyton Hewitt getting knocked out by archrival Chela... on the radio. That's right. Due to the absolute lack of television coverage, I have been reduced to pre-war time media... the radio. The 21st century version of this radio, though,

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137447985629756832006-01-16T22:33:00.000+01:002006-01-16T22:52:36.226+01:00

Something strange happens to the average male in the dead of winter. Normal steak-chewing bookish types sometimes transform into full grown creeps. In the last week I've had two declarations of love from anonymous readers of this blog, three emails for a date as a result of a want ad I left on another site, two obscene phone calls, and one blind man encouraging his dog to urinate in front of me.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137181368040761552006-01-13T20:26:00.000+01:002006-01-13T21:39:42.003+01:00

Though "les Soldes," the French annual sales, officially started January 11, I didn't cotton on until I started receiving my invites in the mail mid-week. Couture houses's and small designers's private sales, usually by invitation, are the chance for middling artist types, like myself, to get some gorgeous stuff at slap-me-silly prices. This year, I cracked for Estelle Yomeda's shoes. She used to

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137154637673033832006-01-13T13:07:00.000+01:002006-01-13T13:31:53.493+01:00

Everyone, I'd like you to meet my very good friend, George Stanley. George is modelling our very own newest moustache, the Moustache 2006. Chocolatey and sensitive, yet firm and defined, this new moustache will keep you awake in the dark nights, and make you the envy of non-moustached men, everywhere. The perfect blend of Hitler and John Waters, this moustache says that you're not only in touch

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137077955355360122006-01-12T15:35:00.000+01:002006-01-12T18:36:58.410+01:00

It struck me, as I made that addition on the last post, how silly it is to say the "best of." I have neither the time nor the capacity to see every "worthy" movie that is released in a year. It's a disturbing way to start the year, by falling on such a useless appellation. What I was trying to do, ineffectually, was express my enthusiasm for a film that I feel profoundly touched by. Maybe it's

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1137028362838053582006-01-12T01:59:00.000+01:002006-01-12T02:33:38.510+01:00

Werner Herzog's latest film, Grizzly Man, is a documentary on Timothy Treadwell, a California dude who heard his calling in living with wild grizzlies, often calling them his "friends" and bawling in front of the camera of out of love for them. The tragic aspect of the quixotic Treadwell story is simply that he and his girlfriend were, one early autumn day, eaten by one of his 'friends.' The film

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136725720572614402006-01-08T13:52:00.000+01:002006-01-08T14:08:40.823+01:00

We came home last night, after massive winnings in poker, at 5 in the morning to a cold apartment. An eerily chilly apartment. The heater was off. In winter, I never turn the heater off while we're out. I just turn the thermostat down. After all, the energy it takes to reheat an entire room is hardly worth the bother than the occasional blasts it takes to keep it moderately liveable. The heater

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136566206858738682006-01-06T17:36:00.000+01:002006-01-06T19:42:44.003+01:00

Hendrik and AnabelleLast night, at éof Gallery, I went to the launch of La Maison Rectangulaire, a book by Hélèna Villovitch, with illustrations by Hendrik Hegray. There was hot mulled wine, spiced bread and, later, oysters and more wine, with the night ending in a headbanging contest, broken glasses and a lovers's altercation, proving that things go from class to crass when the alcohol runs fast

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136381395344323172006-01-04T14:07:00.000+01:002006-01-04T17:06:40.780+01:00

I was riding the metro today and reading the Guardian. Reading the newspaper in the morning is one of my secret pleasures. It's not like I really care that the sturgeon population has dropped 90% in 30 years resulting in today a ban on beluga/sevruga caviar, nor do I really care that Arsenal and Man Utd. play like butlers after losing their hot-headed captains. All the pleasure in reading the

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136378819923008952006-01-04T13:25:00.000+01:002006-01-04T13:49:40.026+01:00

A little while ago I mentioned something about a DVD blind-test competition. That competition was won by yours truly... well, actually by a team I carefully guided out of the darkness... ok, by some other guy who knew more about films than George Bush, ahem, Sr. Whatever. In compensation, I picked off a lovely old Jeff Bridges/Clint Eastwood film, Thunderbolt and Lightning. This week, after

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136243606480589082006-01-02T23:33:00.000+01:002006-01-03T11:38:06.906+01:00

Last night, I watched a documentary on Arte about the notion of beauty in France. Different celebrities, mainly actresses, talked about how they were perceived as icons. You had Deneuve, Moreau, Marceau, Doillon, Mastroianni, Casta and Bardot, all in one show. Here's some things I remember (paraphrased except for Moreau, who I remember exactly):Bardot...My life wasn't mine anymore. I didn't have

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136172551222552202006-01-02T04:24:00.000+01:002006-01-02T04:29:11.246+01:00

New Year's Resolution: stop worrying about who's looking where

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1136039062933653862005-12-31T13:59:00.000+01:002006-01-07T12:38:41.973+01:00

This year’s Christmas Eve Dinner poll may have revealed something interesting about 2005: this was one weirdly normal year. From people having turkey turkey turkey, always dressed with mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce, to someone running out for pizza, Christmas Dinner was normal in that it is unpredictable for some families, and comfortably repetitive in others.From

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135861958766211322005-12-29T14:09:00.000+01:002006-01-04T08:32:01.146+01:00

The Christmas Dinner Poll comes out tomorrow, and there's still time to participate. In the meantime, I offer you my best and worst of 2005.1. The Most Amazing Performance I Never SawAraki at Palais de Tokyo.Sometime in the early in October, Araki passed by the Palais de Tokyo for the inauguration of his expo. He had conceived a sublimely simple performance for the opening. One of his favourite

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135713302036591632005-12-27T20:40:00.000+01:002005-12-28T22:12:12.086+01:00

Besides the Christmas Dinner Poll, which I'm still hoping to get a sizable response on so keep the emails coming, I managed to leave the apartment last night, just to go down the street to a house. We were supposed to discuss a new joint project but once I got through the door, all I could think about was the imminent champagne (wow, you just can never get enough of the bubbly!).It's rare to find

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135550381709846282005-12-25T23:36:00.000+01:002005-12-26T01:56:58.820+01:00

Well, Christmas is done. But, hopefully everyone hasn't been too traumatized to talk about it. So, once again, it's the annualCHRISTMAS DINNER POLL.Take the time to email me and tell me what you had for dinner. I'll post the results up in a week. Ouch, my stomach is still killing me._____________________________Meanwhile... Here's some pics from my Christmas Eve experience. Thanks Mom for the

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135257592546962452005-12-22T13:44:00.000+01:002005-12-22T14:35:48.393+01:00

Thibault and his angels (l-r standing) Julia, Eve, Thibault, me. (l-r kneeling like they should!) Christine and Kim.Voin and Kim contemplating a ride that seems to replicate the experience of a cat inside a washing machine."In Bulgaria, you only need a little cotton candy to make Santa Claus."Spinning our teacup on the Ferris Wheel, aka The BARF MachineThe Birthday Boy on the Bumper Cars. Get

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135246371234386612005-12-22T11:11:00.000+01:002005-12-22T11:12:51.250+01:00

Hungover. Accidentally sprayed perfume on my lips. Now everything tastes like perfume. Ugh. Can't even do something simple like drink tea without gagging.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135221658036233012005-12-22T04:12:00.000+01:002005-12-22T14:44:15.086+01:00

too tired... photos first... post later...started at the Fair inside of the Grand Palais, then moved onto the parking lot near Place Concord for some wine and dancing, finally ended up at Stefan's, where drinking and smoking finally takes its toll. Love you gals and guys... Happy Birthday Thibault, y'ole sonofagun.The MAN!Me, Melinda and ThibaultIn case you need verification, this is a boy's

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135078851634389132005-12-20T12:34:00.000+01:002005-12-20T12:44:29.900+01:00

'Tis the season to be grumpy... fa la la la laaaaa... and watch "Best of the Year" specials, It's a Wonderful Life, and converse politely with people who might be part of the same species. Many people hate this holiday. I don't mind it so much because I usually don't have to lift a finger, not being the host of my own special family Christmas.Anyways, I know what's on the programme already for

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1135005116905968172005-12-19T15:53:00.000+01:002005-12-26T15:08:00.510+01:00

I geeked out this weekend, running away to La Rochelle for a little DVD Blind Test (basically "name that film"). After a series of very exhausting travels, up and down the country, I managed to pack in an hour nap, and a killer round of Mario Kart, before heading off for the competition. Now, you might think, being an english speaker and all, that I'd be at a disadvantage. Well, it's true I

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1134719911879848132005-12-16T08:53:00.000+01:002005-12-16T08:58:31.893+01:00

must stop smoking and drinking with complete strangers. of course, strangers become friends, but is it really worth it when you have to wake up early to go to work, still smelling like a sour ashtray? no. I have a responsibility problem. but this job doesn't pay me enough to be responsible anyways. I want to stay home. I want my mother.Why? Stupid. But I wasn't born to be smart anyways. I was

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1134383536588102282005-12-12T11:17:00.000+01:002005-12-12T13:16:46.586+01:00

George Bush Sr. lied when he said he didn't like broccoli. He should have just said he didn't like any vegetables that didn't come from a can or the freezer department. The Bush family cookbook is a miracle in this modern age of cookbooks. Here, you can find all those ancient recipes from bygone days which feature powdered soup mixes, ring molds and frozen vegetables. Imagine throwing together

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1134308716299786912005-12-11T12:42:00.000+01:002005-12-11T20:53:46.096+01:00

I know I talk about reading, every now then. But, the last thing I want to encourage is a certain chore-like need to upkeep one's moral and cultural obligation of reading. Reading, for me, is a pleasure in careful measured doses, intermittently broken by binges. Like an addiction which needs a small amount of cultivation, and which life sometimes reproaches deeply. If it weren't for all the

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1134063945173469472005-12-08T18:08:00.000+01:002005-12-09T02:04:16.486+01:00

I have to confess that I have never read any of Harold Pinter’s plays, nor seen one of them. Of course I know the name, as most semi-educated university graduate in the arts will. But, the actual content, what he stands for, I have no idea. However, having read his Nobel acceptance speech in the Guardian this morning, I feel positively galvanized to find out more about his work, and not

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133992340392425082005-12-07T22:23:00.000+01:002005-12-07T23:42:57.256+01:00

C'était l'anniversaire de mon mari, le Forgeard, l'autre soir. Comme il y avait du champagne et que des grands spécialistes du vélo étaient présents, la soirée s'est terminée tard et bourrée, remplie avec des cris pour Jalabert. Hélas, quand on veut une soirée tranquille, les veillards, armés par des elephants en bois, des lunettes Versace et une coupe inoubliable (on est tous gagnants quoi!),

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133749334879839702005-12-05T03:18:00.000+01:002005-12-05T03:22:38.336+01:00

CHRISTMAS IS COMING!All Nardac wants for Christmas is a ton of books. Not exactly a difficult guess given she's an anglophone in gay Paris. And, while she may read, write and speak French fluently, the poor thing still needs to upkeep her mother tongue.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133746406662911162005-12-05T02:16:00.000+01:002005-12-05T10:42:41.806+01:00

This is going to be a horrific week so don't expect a lot of posts in the next couple of days.The blogpoll revealed that black, the new classic, is everybody's runaway choice for favourite colour in undies. Not really a surprise, but, you know, I like white myself. Being a Catholic girl and all. Hats off to those who go commando though. I once knew this guy who went commando so much he wore two

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133529242482687992005-12-02T14:13:00.000+01:002005-12-02T14:18:04.736+01:00

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133480706502262372005-12-02T00:36:00.000+01:002005-12-02T00:45:06.516+01:00

No easier way to kill chatter on a blog than to post something chilly about philosophy and irony. So, I'll sway your attention and introduce a new topic: why is it that some girls get away with wearing paper thin sweaters and miniature embroidered Chanel blazers while the rest of us are wearing two cowl neck sweaters, one over the other, just to stay warm? Do I just have bad circulation or are

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133442803392087112005-12-01T14:12:00.000+01:002005-12-02T00:48:25.056+01:00

Irony is rarely innately funny. It might provoke a strange acknowledgement that lurks in the corners of our mouths, but it doesn’t actually unleash unbridled irrational guffaws. It lurks too shallow in our consciousness and derives from knowledge: that somehow we have become too cognisant of the submission before forces beyond us. This does not mean that irony cannot be humorous to some extent,

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133379370557004522005-11-30T20:31:00.000+01:002005-12-01T07:11:03.733+01:00

I had the afternoon off, so I visited Voin, my favourite Bulgarian troublemaker. Needless to say, the clothes came flying off and the camera got whipped out. Here's the PG-13 offerings.And nooooo, this isn't ART! It's just all fun and games. And you know what they say: It's fun and games until somebody pokes their eye out... Then it's fun with a cyclops!(and that would be me today since the eye

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133281920956150932005-11-29T17:30:00.000+01:002005-11-29T21:11:58.500+01:00

The public domain is completely utterly forgiving, in most ways. One can pretend, can invent, fritter time away while klatsching over the newest Potter film, or their own personal woes. I often treat the blog as my boredom factor. When I’m bored, I write what I would normally be babbling to somebody in real life. In fact, the frequency of my posting often reflects my actual social schedule. I’m

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1133179224169570382005-11-28T12:19:00.000+01:002005-11-28T15:18:33.643+01:00

In lieu of a proper post, I'd like to give you this little documentation of the weekend, a lovely quiet weekend the way I like them when it's cold and dark outside.Needless to say, with the sudden slew of photos and lack of text of my blog, y'all might have gathered that I am in possession of a new camera. Ye be correct. It's a Canon Powershot S80, a little on the larger side than most compact

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132909979985268562005-11-25T10:10:00.000+01:002005-11-25T10:12:59.996+01:00

from last night's whizz bang restaurant opening at the MAC/VAL. Inaki's new restaurant... menu forthcoming.Ana and Thibault

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132691331438329072005-11-22T21:26:00.000+01:002005-11-22T21:28:51.456+01:00

Haven't been able to drag myself into the land of blogs for the last week and a bit. Too much partying, too many foreign visitors, too little sleeping. I can't tell more. Going to bed. In the meantime, I'll give you a subject you can mull about in your own free time: what does a person, who spends most of their time moving from country to country, out of caprice, call themselves?

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132277985740466542005-11-18T02:39:00.000+01:002005-11-18T02:39:45.756+01:00

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132181938496831062005-11-17T00:00:00.000+01:002005-11-17T00:16:02.390+01:00

With each passing year, the arrival of my birthday seems to bring this quote from Stand By Me clearer and clearer into focus:CHRIS: Come on Teddy, act your age!TEDDY: This is my age! I'm in the prime of my youth and I'll only be young once!CHRIS: Yeah, but you're gonna be stupid for the rest of your life.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132179406360179092005-11-16T23:12:00.000+01:002005-11-16T23:28:28.550+01:00

How to really explain this…I’m a big fan of those kinds of nights where things happen without plan or direction. Nights where you:- Get ridiculously wasted on free alcohol, courtesy of the Pompidou no less;- Get kicked out of a foreign cultural centre for laughing too hard at a humungous stack of Schweppes;- Hang out with some dudes on a giant bed so big it’s blocking the whole goddam road;- Go

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1132103528206375832005-11-16T02:09:00.000+01:002005-11-16T08:22:54.496+01:00

After hanging out with street gangs and five fashion fags, is there anything left? NO. Fuck me.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131755677661102392005-11-12T01:27:00.000+01:002005-11-12T01:37:32.700+01:00

I don't really know what to make of this. The police have culled a high number of SMSs and internet websites in the last couple of days, calling for attacks on Paris tomorrow, the 12th. The list of places is in the Liberation article. I don't care to reprint these things in detail. Scary.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131711368440480692005-11-11T12:38:00.000+01:002005-11-11T13:25:35.863+01:00

Last night was Hendrik Hegray's opening at France Fiction. There's something about this moppet-headed little bugger that always makes me laugh. I'm just a little surprised his moustache happens to be real now. He's exactly the type of character to paint his moustache in. The work was lots of collage, magazine cut-outs, and drawings on cut-outs, the naive style.I showed up after the wine was

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131552291085002432005-11-09T16:57:00.000+01:002005-11-09T19:01:13.706+01:00

There used to be this girl, in my math class at high school, who always used to carry a bottle of water around with her. I always thought it was the height of chic. That water bottle, along with her long brown hair, seemed better than all the accessories anyone could buy. Only later on did I realize that her height, her ability to be well groomed yet casual were also part of the look. The

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131392295282838442005-11-07T20:23:00.000+01:002005-11-07T20:41:45.330+01:00

Ok, so this year no Safin, no Federer, Hewitt, Gasquet, Nadal, and Lendl (joke!) but the Paribas Masters final was still quite incredible. I know my sports posts are real winners, like the cooking posts, but fry me some turnips, that Berdych boy can play!The Paribas final was between Ljubicic and Tomas Berdych, and hot damn, that Berdych boy made me sit up from the first set. He has everything:

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131321871204955602005-11-07T00:21:00.000+01:002005-11-09T13:14:44.946+01:00

The situation is this: you have a large population of poor teenage boys, of largely immigrant descent, who are jobless, bored and essentially aware that they are regarded as "untouchables." You take these bored young men, all armed with cellphones, scooters, and anger, and you give them a position where their actions can be justified politically, and you see what happens.I'm going to be straight

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131242073377968892005-11-06T02:10:00.000+01:002005-11-06T02:59:44.960+01:00

I’d like to think when major stories happen in your town, you’d feel connected. You’d feel linked to some general concern, that the story would seem to loom large over you. I imagine that if you stood in the way of a hurricane the experience would leave a resonance.I feel tonight so far away from the France reported on television and newspapers. I keep reading reports that there have been riots

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1131057355781391292005-11-03T23:34:00.000+01:002005-11-03T23:49:40.626+01:00

I went to see the Champion’s League game at the Stade de France last night. Before the game, I dug out my favourite red and white scarf so I could support Manchester Utd. I’m not really a Man U fan but I just couldn’t resist the temptation to go for the Beast (Wayne Rooney) after all the hoopla.It took me exactly 3 seconds to turn my coat once I got to the stadium. Why? Because only a suicidal

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1130891385561900102005-11-02T01:26:00.000+01:002005-11-02T07:57:17.956+01:00

1. Make her watch Rosemary’s Baby with you while eating lunch.2. Tell her fat people look permanently pregnant.3. Show her photoshopped pictures mixing you and your husband’s faces (That was our Halloween trick - THE HORROR!)4. Pretend to have Turette's.This and more, available on “A guide to visiting in-laws in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.” Comes replete with

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1130495176437565732005-10-28T12:24:00.000+02:002005-10-28T12:33:08.240+02:00

So there he was again, wearing a dark fedora and still without any hair. His sweater seemed pulled from the depths of his grandmother’s trousseau. It was Annabelle’s birthday, yesterday, and among the many strange things, he was one.There was also the boy who looked like a young Axl Rose, who I had met earlier at a fashion shoot. Apparently from Switzerland, I wasn’t sure if he was artist,

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1130183786079911652005-10-24T21:47:00.000+02:002005-10-24T22:04:28.936+02:00

It's my first wedding anniversary tomorrow. We're going to burn some paper Monopoly money in celebration tomorrow. I'm still married, surprise, surprise.By the way, if my posting is irregular and thin these last two weeks, it's based on three things: Boggle-addiction, party-panthering, and, actually, work. I almost missed two parties this week because I couldn't tear myself away from

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129891367054312852005-10-21T12:41:00.000+02:002005-10-21T12:52:48.153+02:00

I met her, completely by accident, at the crossroads in Belleville. At first I couldn’t recognize her, but I had only seen her twice before.My first thought was regarding her beauty. She had the kind of fine, even and pointed features that looked even fresher with the sunlight. Her light creamy skin glowed over pouty coral lips. Her eyes were dark and round.She stood there, on the other side of

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129683081854404942005-10-19T02:48:00.000+02:002005-10-19T02:51:21.863+02:00

I can't get over this. Now I have to change my pants because I laughed too much.

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129470105432948152005-10-16T15:24:00.000+02:002005-10-17T15:12:23.786+02:00

La Dauphine handed me a well-used meme last week. 5 Random Things. I know I got a little carried away. So, without further ado, Nardac's Long-Winded explanation of 5 random things about her egotistical self.1. Richard D. JamesWhile some people’s lives are saved by bonafide miracles, my life was saved by a rock star. Well, technically not a rock star but an electronic music guy, with long shaggy

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129199233102814002005-10-13T12:21:00.000+02:002005-10-14T03:38:02.036+02:00

Fuck! That stupid shagging shambula list is up my wazoo! I just woke up from dreaming I had been chosen by Larry David to accompany him to a gala dinner and I ended up having sex with him while people all around were pointing in surprise to something behind us, and I craned my head to see what it was and Larry said "What? Why are you looking up? What's over there that's not over here? What? Am I

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129168195276715492005-10-13T03:28:00.000+02:002005-10-13T04:28:22.496+02:00

I've got the late night munchies, and it has nothing to do with anything inhaled or imbibed. It's because of a certain lady named Julia from a certain island called Singapore. Yes, that crazy island where I was born and where I don't seem to like anything besides the food. Well, call me a filial daughter because I now count two Singaporean foodblogs in my blogroll. Julia's got the skinny on

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129160500304208202005-10-13T00:59:00.000+02:002005-10-13T04:03:42.150+02:00

Techie:I've managed to teach myself some basic CSS programming, courtesy of W3C schools. Hence the changed layout. It's remarkably easy and surprisingly fun. A good thing to do when you're sick in bed. I'm currently tinkering with Flash to prepare for my all new artistic project... which will go up January 1st, 2006._____________Geeky:Have switched from Firefox to Camino, Mozilla's lightweight

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1129076975091667942005-10-12T02:09:00.000+02:002005-10-12T04:37:16.836+02:00

How can somebody's favourite word be Colostomy Bag, even if they once sported mile-high bangage? That's just wrong. Nobody's favourite word should be that. But...Actually, Colostomy Bag makes me laugh too, in a shameful way, in a penguin showing off his spiny red penis kind of way. But is it good? I have a test for that. Hold on... *running to the bathroom to get available literature*I will now

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1128983396041761982005-10-10T23:54:00.000+02:002005-10-11T02:00:52.556+02:00

I cry less but sometimes I forget what I’m looking at. I have to give myself things to look forward to. Is it as simple as that?Last night, during dinner with friends, I had a moment. There, before me, was a sparkling crossfire from interested minds, eager to entertain, toil and trouble over thoughts, words and inaction. I watched them abstractly until I came across his face. This is my husband’s

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1128878930556568412005-10-09T18:45:00.000+02:002005-10-10T04:59:23.253+02:00

Something about supermarket line-ups always makes me homicidal. I don’t understand why people always expose their worst sides in the queue. In front of me today was a prissy little blond thing, buying two gallons worth of kitty litter, 1 bottle of wine, and three cans of carrots and peas. She made such a big deal out of delicately fishing around in her wallet and carefully turning up her nose. I

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1128700587497290292005-10-07T17:37:00.000+02:002005-10-08T01:28:11.160+02:00

This must have happened, somewhere in New York. Some ordinary woman, standing in the queue at a check-out counter, starts screeching on her cellphone. All you can make out is “I can’t believe it… I cannot believe it. You’re going to be on Seinfeld? That’s a-mazing. What?! You’re a Soup Nazi? What the hell is a Soup Nazi?” And then we all get to hear about how her husband is about to star on

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7123501.post-1128606262131458302005-10-06T15:44:00.000+02:002005-10-11T02:09:21.683+02:00

Another meme… this time I was mercifully tagged by Geraldine.This meme reminds me of some crazy psychedelic rock group that I sometimes listen to on Thursday evening when nobody has phoned me for a little pick me up or party. There I am, violently headbanging when suddenly the doorbell rings. The pizza guy is really too gangly and his peach fuzz moustache supports his apathetic glance. He just

NARDAChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08178357844367164683noreply@blogger.com0