Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Hoo, Boy...

For those of you who are not up-to-date with French current events, I expect that all hell will break loose sometime in the next few days.

For months, the French government has been debating whether or not to raise the retirement age for workers. The unions had planned a strike to occur today.

Last Saturday morning, I woke up to the news that the French Senate passed the bill to increase the retirement age from 60 to 62. It happened when no one expected it. BEFORE the strike happened. I'm pretty clueless about France's system of deputies and whatnot, but I do know that this decision will not sit well. The first thing to go will be the public transportation systems: buses, trains, the Métros in the larger cities.

As it is, my two ways of getting around Dijon are by bus and my own two feet.


Let me tell you that purchasing a bike looks VERY tempting right about now!

France is on strike today. I'm only used to one or two day strikes, but there is talk that the French railway will have une grève illimitée , a strike that has no exact date of when it will end...so this will be new for me. I expect a complete disaster in all areas of service.

In my Miami mindset, planning for a disaster (like hurricanes) includes buying two weeks' worth of food and water. Maybe I should add some terrine de foie gras to my Carrefour shopping list as well.

And in other news, Loser Ex-Boyfriend is in town and he wants to see me. Before I left Miami, he messaged me via Facebook to see if I would bite and accept his apology (which I stupidly did). We both agreed to be friends... and ever since then he's been spewing some total bullshit that I was his first love and that he misses me and my cooking. Why the fuck did I break the third step in the Kübler-Ross model? I shouldn't have bargained ANYTHING with that jerk.

Keep in mind: he still is dating his current girlfriend, so I really can't see why on Earth he would want to see me. He surely has better ways of spending his free time.

When I think about their relationship and the particular backstory about how her parents hate him, I think of this song:

I say let him come. I'll make him regret he EVER broke it off with me.

Wish me luck, folks.

Barb the (incredibly stupid) French Bean

Disclaimer: the video is not mine


  1. Ruh Roh... this sounds like a recipe for disaster. Loser ex totally DOESN'T deserve your time or energy and sounds terribly, terribly creepy.

    Don't drink wine in or around his vicinity. I say nix the whole deal! Abort! Abort!

    Only bad things lie ahead with this dude!!!

  2. you know, i hope this doesn't sound creepy, but i was listening to NPR this morning and they were talking about the strikes and all the rallies etc and i thought of you right away! i was like WHAT IS THE BEAN GOING TO DO?! :P
    i agree with stephanie about the ex situation. RUN- don't walk- away. even if nothing smoochy-smoochy happens, if your anything like me, it will drudge up all of these old feelings seeing him, and it will just make it harder for you when he's a dingleberry again...
    hows THAT for unsolicited advice from someone who doesn't really know you? sorry if that's way out of line. i'm only thinking of your beanie feelings!

  3. sod the git have bugger all to do with him hes only going to screw with your head

  4. Stephanie: At least I didn't drink wine (too fattening), nor was I alone in the apartment; my awesome roommates were at home with me.

    Jess: LOL! Wow, Jess, I am (somewhat creepily) touched by your worries about the strikes. Things actually went pretty calmly in Dijon yesterday; I didn't need to use the buses to do my things.

    And trust me: he really is far beyond the dingleberry stage. :-P Thanks for caring!

    Widow: I know, my dear...but I least I got to show off what he lost. >:-) MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!


  5. I was aware of this controversial plan of changing the retirement age via the internet, and also aware of the reaction of the french. The British are somewhat bemused by it, since their retirement age is 67, or something like that.

    Goes to show you that once you have a good thing, it's hard to give up!

  6. p.s. Tell loser ex-boyfriend to go screw himself.


Apparently, leaving comments on this blog is a hit-or-miss game of Russian roulette: you are either lucky and can comment away, or you are required to log in when the settings are CLEARLY set to allow trouble-free commenting (sorry 'bout that, folks). If anything, the Facebook page is always a viable option. :) -Barb