Im back!!

Ladies and gentlemen it is good to be back on United States soil. I figure maybe I'll write a little bit about the trip, being that flights always seem to involve some of the best characters and anecdotes you could imagine (I mean really you can't make this stuff up.) This one definetly does not lack characters, but don't worry you'll meet them shortly. I just wanted to say that I still have a bunch of unfinished blogs, so keep checkin back about my adventures in France and I'll keep you updated. Oh and if there's anything you want to know about specifically in France, or from my perspective, just make a comment, send me a message or shoot me an email and I'll post an answer.

Ok now back to the wonderful 13 hour or so flight day. Let's see.... how should we do this? I have an idea....

Let's meet the characters first.

Phillip Anyou - nice security guard who really got to know me

a REAL wanker - just some guy in the London airport

The "GREEN" family -the family that adopted the air out your laundry policy from France.

the 'happy' flight attendant - do a synonym search for happy

Passepartout - around the world in 23 hours... i think he's got time to spare

Mr. Pierre Walker - 2 good legs and 1 mission

and as a bonus the entire cast from what international sport do you play

Ok so we start in Paris at around 10am. I arrive and coach drops me off. Knowing I don't have a boarding pass, I go through the line to the border patrol thinking that maybe it's on the other side. Oh no. I get directed back to the desk at the far right were a little French woman is sitting. Not speaking english she points to a machine when I ask if I can check in. Great! Who needs real service when you've got a computer to do your job! Let's just get rid of all the jobs and make it "EASIER" by using computers.... hahahaha.... (but I'm not bitter)

Well it says all you need to do is scan your passport and your good to go... enter computer failure. I scan my passport and the next thing I see is an insufficient data screen. Awesome! I try to do it again, no luck. Ok side option, check for the electronic ticket number or something else I dont have. Great. Didn't print out the paper, so I make the decision to use the phone...

eventhough I'm probably over my data plan because AT&T says when you
take pictures with the Iphone and download to your computer using a cord.
It's IDK an extra dollar a pic. and you've seen how many pics I've
taken...sorry mom.

After making that gut call, it's good to know that reliable service is at your finger tips.... or not. I see the little clock spin countless times and just wait... good thing every 3 mins the computer I'm trying to board at wants to know if I've walked away or am still waiting. I have to press a button like 15 times while looking for service. I'm getting a little nervous thinking what will I do if I get stuck. I don't have a phone or coach's number... crap. "Lord help me" (good idea)... Of course afterwards I get service, thankfully have saved it under starred emails. And get the eticket number. Walk through the line again and thankfully I get the same lady who smiles and lets me pass.

I get to my gate and wait in the baggage check line, check my baggage and proceed to the gate number. The lady tells me it's gate 29. vingt-neuf. I try to find it, but it's rather difficult to find. I walk back and forth and then notice that each sign doesn't include the 29 gate... you've got 12-28 on one side and 30-4o something on the other... SWEET. Finally I find it and wait with the other people to go through security check.

People are so fun to watch. It's one of my favorite things to do. I really love people and seeing how different we all are. In the line there's a young Irish guitar player, a Japanesse man in a rush and a bit confused, an English girl who keeps looking at me like she know's something I don't, an Arabic family, an old man in a kilt who becomes a little upset when security wants to check under his kilt ( I dont know why he'd be upset though?!?.... thankfully he's yelling at them in english and I can understand his enormous sense of frustration), I mean really the bases are pretty much covered here.

Then introducing Phillip Anyou. This is the guy who basically molests me. I totally relate to the old man now. I mean I'm wearing just a T-shirt and jeans, that's it.... there is nothing in my pockets, no hat, no shoes.... ok I do have socks on.... no belt, nothing. (I learned this lesson working with Delta, if you throw all your stuff in a bag before you walk through there's no way this type of "Philling up An-you" ever happens) I understand the normal pat down, or wave the wand over you, but this guy was one more grab away from me being locked up in a French prison. He seriously had a problem.

So after I get through a nice lady asks me if I'm sure I want to wait because there is nothing in the terminal except the seats right next to her.... You think I'm going back there with the French fondler... I dont think so.

As I'm waiting for the plane to arrive, I listen to my Ipod and try relax before the flight. Finally hearing a couple of English voices around is a good change of pace from the everyday French. I then see the main guy from British Airways coming through and asking people where there going. So... next thing you know I have to go to gate 28, totally different from gate 29. Instead of making a big security line and letting people walk to the right gates, the terminal I was in decides to have individual security for every 2-3 gates. You know what this means- say hello to Phillip again. After being molested we hop on the quick flight to London.

London's airport is intense. I mean after you go through the maze to get to where you are going, its really nice. There's all kinds of nice duty free shops and restaurants to really keep you entertained. I decide to grab a bite to eat, in case I don't get feed for a while on the plane. Not a huge story here, but I got a mexican sandwhich in London. I thought that was ironic, until I tasted it and realized it was crap. It was on some super fiber, whole grain, whole wheat, make a whole foods super shopper throw-up, kind of bread. And I have no clue how much I paid for it because the Euro isn't accepted in the UK.

I eat the sandwhich and head to the gate. They haven't started boarding so I go to the restroom. Introduce the REAL wanker. I can understand now why they call men from the UK wankers. As I go to the urinal to relieve myself, I naturally take the stall away from as most people as possible. Unfortunately it's the holidays so I have one free spot on my left, myself, and then said wanker to my right. Minding my own business I was rudely interrupted by the wanker wanking... too much information I know... I move to the left, finish and get out of there as fast as a Jamacian running the 100yard dash.

London's airport is a little bit different then most I've seen. After you check through the gates you then walk down the escalators and rows of stairs to ground floor, then hop on a bus that drives you out to the airplane, manuevering all over the ramp (ramp is the word for the floor that the planes drive/ park on, etc.) So being that we have the holidays, every one is trying to get back to the US for a Merry Christmas. The Green family was one such group.

As we load onto the bus I am followed by the Green's. You see I made a V-line to the back of the bus in a place I could stand. They followed and sat in the 3 seats that I had left. Basically this is how this ancedote goes. The man starts histarically gripping at his wife, whose daughter around 14 is sitting next to her. Being a woman she says I don't want to talk about this here and I've had enough. Logically thought process I think, but papa's pissed. I mean let's describe this guy. He looks like late 40's early 50's, you can tell he's a business man who values his time and makes a lot of money. By the way his dressed I'm drawing conclusions of snobishness. He's already pretty much grey, but it's the kind of grey on a guy's head when it shouldn't be grey; making me think he's up tight.

So Mr. "Green" decides to really show off the environmental side and air out that dirty laundry. Apparently he asked his wife to get the tickets, and she had an 8 hour lay over in London. We are getting on the plane to Houston now so why is it a big deal. I guess the past 8 hours really wound him up. He's "like dynamite. Where gonna explode, then were gonna get higher. Then we'll catch on fire." (a replaying series on NASN about the worst coaches...this was a pregame speech to one of the NFL teams)

So the daughter is totally respectable in this situation. She plays peacekeeper and tries to calm the situation out. I think it's crazy. At one point the man grabs his passport and slings it at the wife. You can tell she's sorry, but Mr. Green doesn't much stand for sorrys, atleast from what I gather. I feel sorry for the wife, proud for the daughter, sad for what matters most to the man, and thankful that I can use this story to guide me in my own family one day...

I start thinking about people. I just start thinking how different we all are and yet how much God loves us all. It opened my eyes, as if I was the one looking from above. I could see how this would effect the little girl down the road. How strong she'll be because of it.

Ok back to the ancedote's.... I'll try and wrap it up bc I know I'm taking a while....

So I hop onto the plane, with the help of my new favorite "happy" flight attendant. I mean this guy is just a bundle of joy (insert wrist flick) All in all though the guy did a pretty dam good job serving all of us on the plane, but I still can't get over looking back for a whinning girls voice and hearing him. His name was Nicolas, and there is nothing funnier then when we started going through a little turbulence hearing him scream at some little kid for getting up into the aisle. I about died laughing.

On the flight I had the privelage to sit in the middle seat next to 2 guys around the same age as myself. One was Passeport, he had one of the longest days I had ever heard. He had woken up in New Delhi at 2am and flew to London, had a 4 hour layover, and was on this flight.... Basically the guy was in a plane for 18 hours, overall 23 in an airport, and still had 5 hours once we landed to finish out Dec. 22nd. It played out great bc the guy slept like a rock the whole ride to Houston, except for the first 20 mins were he told me he was from the woodlands, studying, and going home to see the fam. He was definitely a talker so my right ear was pretty glad he fell asleep. To the right was a non talker who listened to music the whole ride there. It only sucked bc he was just as broad shouldered as myself...so when we sat it was normally a pushing match on whose shoulders would be sucked in like a man frozen in the antarctic. I gave in for a while streeching my arms to the sky.

It seems like it would be the worst, scrunched next to 2 guys on a plane with my knees being crammed from 1/2 the part of the love fest going on in 2 of the seats in front of me, and not to mention the old man playing patty cake with the touch screen tv on the seat behind me. But all in all it was a pretty good trip. I mean seeing Greenland is pretty surreal. It's like look through the white clouds to see the white ice capped land. It was beautiful.

Also on the flight was this random creepo named Pierre walker. Pierre went to the bathroom every 28 minutes. I say 28 bc it was pretty spot on. I had no clue what he was doing, but it was a little freaky. I wrote him off with a bad case of bowel movement problems and left it at that. But after he was finished he strolled through the aisles for a good 15 mins before starting the cycle over again. Quite odd, which made it humorous to me.

Oh and finally let's not forget the endless streams of international athletes returning home for Christmas. On our plane we had 2 guys from a basketball team. A girl who looked like a basketball player, and a legit volleyball player. Also in London there was the Italian handball team, and various random basketball players flying to Miami. It's comforting being able to relate to them with just a look.

I finally arrived and made it through the line at customs, waited on my bag, and all in all only took from leaving my apartment in Pontoise at 9:45am to arriving in Houston at 7:30pm... add the 7 hour time difference and you've got a long day. But I'm thrilled to be home. Hope you all have a MERRY CHRISTMAS and I'll write in after the holidays about some other things that have happened in France that I've yet to talk about.

Off to the US.... I'll update you with more from France while in the continental US!!

Au REVIOR

Finally the lil monster returns to the football field...

"Far Droite 357 fullback flat on 1. Ready, Break." We run to the line of scrimmage and I call out the Middle Linebackers number. It's second and goal from about the 8. "Down... Red 19, Red 19...." Then the strangest thing in my entire football career happened. A definsive lineman, nose tackle to be exact, walks across the line with his finger up speaking in French. Uh..... What? Should I snap the ball take the half the distance to the goal penalty? He taps my left guard on the shoulder. Djilali a first year rookie at the young age of 30 something rocks out of his stance a little bit. What the crap great now we've got a false start.... (no whistle) HUH?

The defensive lineman then proceeds to fix Djilali's jersey. Apparently a shoulder pad was not fully under the Cougar jersey and the defensive lineman found it imparative to fix the jersey before he tried to pound Djil into the dirt and kill our quarterback. I say try because there's no way I'd allow that. I guess it's just a different mentality. I mean really....

"Concentration is the ability to think about absolutely nothing when it is
absolutely necessary." - Ray Knight

Football is different. I mean it takes a different mentality to play this game. You have to be a tough SOB with a high pain tolerance and be a little bit on the sadistic side I take a totally different mentality when I step onto the field. Coach D at GT called it the Lil Monster. You have to transform into a barbaric being who get's the job done. So after the guy fixes Djil's jersey he lines back up. I'm just talking to Matt in the middle of the cadence completly confused. "Did that just happen? what was that? am I playing football?" I almost couldn't compose myself enough to block. My mind was literally doing backflips.

Needless to say the day would be a bit of a different experince. When we arrived at the stadium at 4:15, it was the first time I had seen the field in the sunlight. Normally we practice at 8:30pm, so it was a little different feel. It was tough to get into the mental zone as well. At GT, the locker room is silent. Even the pipes know not to squeak on gameday. The normal custom in France is to say hi to everyone as you arrive or they arrive and shake hands. It was a little different saying hi to everyone and trying to not be a jerk, while at the same time getting myself into game mode. Thankfully the earphones kinda helped some of that. The Meteorites are not quite the same talent level as the Hurricanes or Hokies, but you never take anyone lightly...I'm mean ANY GIVEN SUNDAY. (thanks jamie fox) Plus being a scrimmage it's not a real game, so your not as amped generally. I looked back and I think the last scrimmage I had was against Texas City... well atleast the last scrimmage I can remember.

Ok. The scrimmage was designed to be 3 quarters long 12 minutes a piece, no field goals/ kickoffs, the rest is full go. They win the toss and get the ball first, we stop them defensively. Here we go... football in France. We run the ball. Knock the cobwebs loose and get the bodies used to contact early. Sebastien Torel runs hard and we gain 8, until Will get's busted with a holding penalty. They only move the ball back 5 yards. Confusion? Whatever I'll take it. We call the next play and hurry to the line. As we get set, the refs realize the mistake and move the ball back. Good because I almost thought I could double my holding penalties a game if the foul was only 5 yards! Guess not. The drive ends up stalling, I make a bad snap at center on a zone run right with a middle linebacker blitzing over me. The snap was too low and went to Matt's knees. I'm a little upset with myself and make sure it doens't happen again. Now we have to punt.

Whose the punter... Mickael.... Where's Mickael? Working as a firefighter, he'll show up later. Who gets to punt then. Matt Polhemus. Matt's had one kick at yale for like 17 yards or something of that nature. It's funny. He makes a nice kick to the 10 yard line, but forgets he then has to be the saftey valve in case something happens. They break the return and Matt has to make the tackle. He pushes him out around the 45. That a boy QB.

Someone scratches my arm on a pass play and now i'm gushin blood. It's not hurt, but it wont stop. I send someone into the locker room to grab some tape that Arnaud has in his bag and try to wrap it up before we have to go back on.

The defense get's an interception or a punt not sure which and we start driving. Thankfully the guy arrives as we take the field. I have just enough time to wrap the wound while walking to the huddle. The tapes a little different because it has a protective layer before the sticky part which makes it kind of difficult to apply in a hurry. I manage to do a make shift job and get the gash bandaged up.

We are looking alright and do a good enough job to get Seb into the endzone. On one block, Loic Le Glas wheels back and makes a monster block on an unsuspecting DL chasing the ball. I'm pumped! That was nice. I check my chinstrap since it's unbuckled and notice that I'm now missing a snap. We go for 2 since there's no FG's and honestly I don't remember the play but seb punches it in on a tough run. I think he's even a little shaken up, but fights through it. I'm impressed. As I run to the sideline I have to send the guys back into the locker room to get a new snap. Desolee

Start of the 2nd quarter, Loic, the one who made the big block, get's rocked and becomes concussed. He doesn't remember his name, where we are, or how old he is. Not a good sign. We only find out because during the punt return he's not out there. As I'm working on my chinstrap snap...(that's a mini tongue twister, say "chinstrap snap" 5 times fast) ... I barely get the snap screwed in and run onto the field with the ear pad in hand trying to get it hooked on correctly. You forget how nice it is to actually have guys like Tom and Punt at GT doing that stuff for you. I'm in the huddle and getting the play with my helment still off. As we walk to the line I get in on in time, put on the helment and get set... barely made it.

So I don't remember this part perfectly because it was really freaking akward. Play was all of a sudden completely stopped. The officials huddled up for about 5 mins and then the next thing I know I hear someone shouting something about a medecin (thanks Rosetta Stone for teaching me that's a doctor.) Apparently there is no doctor on hand...being a scrimmage coach mas just thought it was like a glorified practice. Since Loic's concussion and another player on the other team got hurt the ref's are tenative. We all sit and wait in confusion, wondering if we'd get the chance to continue playing or not. I take a seat against the retaining wall around the fence.

I kind wonder, who cares, let's just play. It's football, people get hurt. It's a tough game for tough people. Later I am informed that the ref's are appointed or something by the federal govenment or what not, basically meaning it's on their heads if someone is seriously injured without the doctor there to help. (ok ok I get it, I mean I want to play football, but I understand you do what you gotta do.)

We wait a 15 mins and let the refs leave. Then we continue to scrimmage with some of the refs staying and ref-ing. You see some of the refs were old cougars players and volunteered to ref, one is actually on the team, but didn't have his papers to play. Who needs to pay refs when they play for your team right?!?!? haha.

We begin playing and Mickael arrives from his fire fighting job. He is one of our top recievers and really helps freeing up the passing game. He catches a bomb and breaks a takle on his way to a 60 yard TD. We line up for the 2 point play and a player comes into our huddle trying to speak broken english. He says when we touch you stop you. Our OL pushes him away and we have a little scuffle of words. Matt was wearing a red jersey, which of corse means don't hit me. On the pass play the defensive player from the Meteorites felt Matt should've been sacked, but as Matt kept running and threw the pass, we scored. Blah Blah... we line up and this is when Djil get's his jersey fixed.... Seb runs untouched into the endzone for 2 on an inside run that bounces out. Will and Loic Soutenare make a monster combo block allowing this to happen. I feel a little more confident about our running game.

Oh I forgot. I got to play on defense!!! I LOVE PLAYING DEFENSE. It was awesome. I mean I had no clue what I was doing but I went in and we stopped them from there parade down the field. The D was missing a few tackle and they started driving, so I got to go in to give some of the DL a break to catch their breath. We stop them. I got cut blocked by two DL. But seriously it's not that bad, just annoying. I don't know why everyone hates it when I cut block! Just kiddin, it sucks I understand now, but it's not as horrible as most guys think, but then again I didn't get cut by a replica of me.

That was supposed to be the last offensive possesion but the Defense on their last possesion grab another turnover. We march out and run a couple plays, then "IT" hits the fan. We run a pass and the same guy get's to Matt. And by gets I mean what happen was a defensive lineman spun off of will on a one on one pass pro. I happened to see it and got there in time to knock the DL out to the right. (Will plays right guard.) Well he get's close enough to Matt that he rolls out to the right even further and the dude who was talkin says he touched him.

Ok time out. Just because you touch someone, or are close enough to touch someone does not, I REPEAT DOES NOT, imply that you will tackle him. We're not playing freeze tag on some elementary school yard playground. It's football. So he starts jawing and Matt jaws back a little bit. Nothing serious. Your normal talking for football, but some of the Cougars take offense to this and run up and get a little more physical then an altercation of this magnitude needs.

Next thing you know the teams are pushing in shoving. I'm standing were the huddle should be thinking, come on. The Meteorites are getting a little antzy or whatever, coach mas decides to call it. We have a lot of yelling and griping from the players. Coach set's us down. From what I gather he's trying to tell us to just play during the whistle and not give a crap about that. Which is what any coach in football would do. Another first happens. In front of the team a couple of our players talk back to the coach, or speak their mind. I was a little in shock because this never happens in America. If there's a problem or something you speak to coach after the team breaks up, but not in front of the team, and never challenging the coach in front of his team.

What I learn is some of the players feel we need to be respected. Couldn't agree more with you. But respect is earned, never given. You also don't get respect on a football field by starting fights or crap like that. You earn it by driving a guy into the ground every play and doing you job well enough to have more points on the score board at the end of the game then the other team. Anyways, I hope the guys get this. But it's hard to tell in a different language. Overall it's an enlightening experience and we need to travailler dur and get ready for the Flash. Because there a dam good team and I'm a little worried.

French Interview

HAHA... first words I can think of to describe it. Matt and I went over to the Parisian newspaper for an interview and it was a pretty interesting experience. First we rolled in and said hi to everyone, thankfully coach was there to help translate because if not then I think we'd just be lost. We went outside to pose for a photo for the article. The photographer set it up perfectly. He shot from the ground and with me closest to the camera, basically resulting in what appears to be me an 8 foot tall tackle, coach a small child in the middle, and Matt looks like a normal QB. (For the record though, Matt's a pretty big guy for a QB... he could play LB and it'll be good to see a QB that can hit)

So then we sit down and try and talk to the reporter and answer all his questions. What would normally be a 3o min interview lasts around a couple of hours. We talk about our experiences here and back in the states. What it's like going from football being the top sport, to one at the bottom. About France, our opinions. Pretty much just about anything. I think the reporter started just chatting after a while and got intrigued with College football. But I couldn't really tell you because everything I said then Coach translated and vice versa. So I have no clue what exactly the guy heard, but we'll see when the paper comes out. Sometime while I'm back in the states.

Just thought I'd enlighten you on another eye opening experience. Oh and he asked if we found any French girls yet. We said no and it sounded like he's going to write a personal ad with in the article. That could be weird. Anyways I'll post the article for you when it comes out.

From Paris with Love

It was the best day of my life. Top 3 memories of all time. Matt and I had took off to another excursion through Paris just to check out the city and become more familarized with Paris. We left early to make sure we had enough time to get back for practice, maybe even a pre practice nap. The sun had just decided to show itself through the cloud of grey that had been surronding Paris for the past week or so, Pretty much setting up the greatest day of all time.

Matt and I arrived in Paris and started walking down a side street close to Champs de Elysses. Just stimulating the local economy by purchasing enough pastries to make any man gain 3lbs. (serious addiction is starting to kick in and I'm about to have to purge myself by entering pastry rehab.... they call it America.... oh wait I forgot about donuts....dang...what will i do?) Anyways were marching along and then we see a big commotion in the crowd. Like seriously what's going on here?

We check it out and they are literally shooting the new John Travolta film, FROM PARIS WITH LOVE. Ok and apparently the guy kissing guy thing as a greeting does happen. Just in the form of real creative types/ actors/ etc. You know the people who think there totally B.A. Just a sidenote. So were walking by and apparently there is this scene that there trying to do where they need some American tourists for the background shot. Thankfully I'm American. We walk up to the gate after the guy with the mic points us out and asks us to come up. This is gonna be SWEET! I tell matt.

On the set of From Paris with Love

They take us back to the make up closet or whatever it is. Think about a 18 wheeler's trailer converted into a costume/ makeup thingy... I'm not to up to date with my fashion, so I have no clue. So we get all ready and stuff. All were supposed to do is walk by the big shopping store, look at a map, and then scratch our heads as the screen strolls past to Amber Rose Revah strolling past on the cell phone.

I can't tell you how pumped I was, I mean really amazing opportunity. I'm gonna make it, say hello to stardom. Here comes the red carpets, and after partys with the big timers. I'm a little nervous... as we hit our part, I actually stumble and fall into Amber on the first take. "WHAT THE CRAP MATT GET IT TOGETHER" I tell myself. She's ok. The director's pissed, but who cares. We get it on the next take fine. He wants to do one more another way, just to make sure I guess.

Afterwards Amber comes up to me and laughs about me falling. I stumble over myself just a little bit, then try to put the old Matt Rhodes charm one. I tell her she's a little bit too beautiful and I didn't know how to control myself... NICE recovery. Ha, so it's awesome. She ask me and Matt to hang out with her friends after the shoot. I'm like YES!!!!!!!!!!! Does this actually happen????

Then all of a sudden I hear a loud roar.... people are protesting. Yelling and screaming and throwing stuff and setting cars on fire with alcohol soaked rags rapped around bricks. It's utter chaos. I don't know if I should run or watch or rent a video camera and become a youtube star....

Another loud BANG.....

.... I roll over. What the crap? I'm still in bed, but the noise it's not going away. What time is it? 9am. What? Did Will go to work? Is Matt up this early? Did someone leave the TV on? It must be the hooligans movie. Lemme go check. I'd hate to waste energy.

As I roll out, my head still trying to hold on to the dream, I think...."why did John Travolta actually work out in my gym in Cergy 2 weeks ago? Why is that stupid story from the gym owner infesting my dreams? Maybe it's the urban cowboy/ pulp fiction fest that's being played non stop on the movie channels that's helping?"

I check the TV. Nothing...

What. The sounds coming from outside. What could it be? I walk to the window, crack open the door. As the cold air says hello to me standing in my boxers and t-shirt, I peer through sleet filled eyes to a full flegged student protest.

Kid's are going crazy, marching in the streets. Chanting non stop. I notice as one group of boy's comes parading down the road leading to the already massive crowd amassed at the gates to the school. The leader is a boy probably 17 carrying a cone chanting French obsenities... (I KNOW THIS FOR A FACT) And yelling out. The others behind him, totalling close to 100 follow in order. I can't tell what's happening.

Is this about to be a fight like I saw in that Hooligans movie? This is gonna be good. I feel a bit of pity for the few cars that are parked along the road. Boy are they gonna get it. As the group approaches the crowd. I start getting intense. Here they go. Welcome to the war on Rue de Matisse. An actual part of History. This isn't a dream, atleast I got woke up for this. A good enough reason in my book.

The students however don't fight, unless by fighting you mean yelling loud and shaking the fence to the school. Still wouldn't know who'd when that one, the students or the fence? I decide since I'm already up I will grab a bowl of cereal and let the real life television show playing through my new HD window entertain me. I throw on some sweats and sit on the balcony.

It's a good show. Last's about 2 hours. The police come. Instead of breaking it up they just let it go. There's not to much. Some actually "good" students actually went to school. What were they thinking? One girl pulls along a trash can... OK. Pour quoi? Whatever. Girl you sure showed them who was boss by grabing that trash! Don't let the garbage man clean that up, Your so bad ass. The crowd then marches towards the police and onto a main road stopping traffic. Well the cops had already stopped it for them, but whatever.

It dies down. But was a great way to realize that your dream wasn't true. Apparently what had happened was... the new minister for the schools in France/ Paris expecially, decided to fire a bunch of teachers and change the criteria or something. I guess it wasn't to the liking of the students. Apparently all around Paris the students protested. Some might have actually got a little crazy(story). But all in all a great show from the 3rd story balcony overlooking the main strip.

* Side note: Riots actually ocurred on the shooting of From Paris with Love.

May I have some cheese with that wine.

The Streets are packed with the hustle and bustle of Christmas time. Children stop and stare in the windows of the puppet displays for some of the department stores. There are street shops lining the paths selling everything from Crepes to toy helicopters to leather knee high boots. Noel is in the air and it's a special time. We stop to enjoy a Crepe. I have Nutella and Almond, matt nutella and bananna, and Will decides to take Sel (salt). This is partially because he's jealous of my breakfast taco I made that same morning. Potatoes, eggs, cheese, bacon, hot sauce...

We scower the stores looking for the appropriate gifts. Enjoying the style that France has to offer. Matt buys a grey and black scarf. We are becoming more and more French by the minute. *Sidenote: I actually was amazed just this past afternoon when I was riding the bus from the gym to the apartment and I could read the titles of the Newspaper over the shoulder of the women next to me.*

I notice while shopping in the stores, there is a lot of American influence here. You have some of the same brands, however the styles are a bit more fashionable. For instance Carhart, a brand I know for tough rugged wear, for cowboys or more so the blue collar guy, where actually designer t'shirts, pants, sweatshirts, etc. I mean they still had a true carhart jacket that one would be familar with, but WAY more fashion. America has a big influence on the world, and you begin to realize that the world becomes a smaller place with advance in technology and international influences.

A European Carhartt Jacket... I know Eddy Parker would never approve!

After shopping in the main district, we went home on a route that showed us more street vendors. I guess you would think china town type of look. There are row after row of tents set up on another never ending street. One side of the street has endless amounts of shoes mixed with other random products, while the other side has clothes and attire. It is pretty crazy. Finally we arrive at the apartment with enough time to change in order to make it to coach david's place by 7:30.

Have I told you yet how much I love French meals! Coach David and his wife, Karen, invited us over to his new place to enjoy a meal. Coach's place is really nice. I was impressed by the size, again the perception that everything is sooo much smaller in France was wrong. I think it's just America's obsession with more, more, more. I mean it's not anywhere near an unliveable one room flat like some would think, but I will say that their balcony is pretty huge, I can only imagine the barbeques and partys they will have on that thing. You could play a small football game on there!


It's a good time with the group, Coach, Karen, William, Matt, and myself. Apparently William, David and Karen all worked at the same company and this is how the relationships where born. Karen met David and obviously that's working well! Also, David introduced William to the sport of football. They tell stories of playing in the long corridors of their office and getting the President to play with them. There's also a story of perfume wars and Will breaking down a door to try and get to David. It's a great night learning about the people that are becoming my close ami's.


Ha so of corse being a man who loves tasting the food and remembering the places by the food I eat, I'm going to tell you all about this meal. Will starts cutting up the sauscission, a big sausage that we put on the toasted bread and butter and David brings out by far my favorite meat so far. It is a wild boar loaf with noisettes or some other kind of nut in the middle of the loaf. It is so good. I mean it's a little creamy with a slight "gamey" type of taste that just hit's the spot. I don't know why but I love it. Also it worked really well with the glass of Porto that I had.

We continue to trade stories, Will brings out the action figure of Coach David making a touchdown catch for the Cougars. It's awesome, Coach's own action figure! Apparently the guys got it for him as a wedding gift. Karen and David got married in September and we see all the photos from the wedding. Oh and my favorite David explains why Will calls him a "farmer" in French though. Because the word actually means standing in Cow manuer or something like that, apparently David is from the North Eastern part of France closer to Belgium and was from a farm. This leads into Texas and cowboys and country music. Karen actually says she likes some country, or more so the line dancing...and I say I noticed the Country greatest hits CD she had under the TV.

For the meal we eat a Pork loin that has been cooking for a while so it is nice and tender. It has prunes in the center of the meat to give it a nice flavor/dynamic. The sauce or natural jus from the meat is just really good. I use that to put on top of the alfredo pasta and the cheese pilled on top. The bread of corse is amazing... I've become so used to having good bread that it's almost an after thought now.

Afterwards we have cheese, and bread and a nice bourdeaux. Coach describes the cheese as a mild one. Mild my butt. It's pretty strong. I eat a little and enjoy it. I think for me the fromage is only good in moderation. It is good though, but too much of a good thing can sometimes take away from it's quality. I eat about three forths of the cheese and then get prompted to finish with the encouragement/ force of David and the rest of the crew. David then starts talking about some of the other cheeses and how there only good when the maggots or worms crawl out of them. This of corse is only for the hard core fanatics or the older population. I've had enough needless to say.


We drink some wine which provokes another story from the group. David apparently never had alchohol until he met Karen. They talk about him and being a farmer and it's just good times and good laughs. I enjoy it so much just sitting around the table learning about each other eating good food and laughing. We take a bouche which is like a traditional christmas dessert. Much like a log cake or whatever is in America. It has ice cream and caramel and little toffee pieces in it. It hits the spot and concludes another fine French dining experience, well along with another digestive of Courvoisier.


I love this the most. Good food with good friends and good laughs. It's quite the time.

Confit de Canard

A never ending Jeudi... We left for Paris around 4:30pm to meet up with Jean Jaques, a friend of Matt's aunt and uncle. We hop on the train and make our way to the connection for the next line at St. Lazare. We get there right at the hot spot for 5 o'clock traffic. You see owning a car in Paris is much like owning a car in New York City I would imagine, actually probably worse but I'm basing my judgement on the price for gas, the price for a driving licsense, general population, etc. That being said there are a ton of people manuevering around this station. We took a different train in, not one of the normal Paris rail lines, and here all these different trains connect with the rail lines as well with buses and so on and so forth.

We are starting to manage the train system pretty well and get to the right train line to take us to Jean Jaques apartment. As we walked into the train stop it is an incredible site of what most americans would refer to as sardines, me however I refer to it more of as the large number of opilio crabs caught on the Northwestern crammed into the tiny pod. I mean literally I have to pry my way to the beginning of the train line which is at least 8 rows deep packed with people. There are marks on the ground trying to control the flow of traffic for easier departures, along with "helpful" workers. So as the first train approaches it's more packed then the people waiting to get in. Really? Is it even possible that there's enough air to breath on that thing.

As we wait we let 2 trains pass before we can get to the front of the line. As our train comes the masses pile out and we fight like a salmon trying to spawn onto the train. It's packed, I don't know if I could do this everyday. I was touching atleast 7 different bodies, while another 3 were touching me. Imagine me being a petite woman and seeing some random guys chest while standing next to my child. No way Jose. Thankfully we only had to go 3 stops on this packed beast, with each stop bringing a new current of anxious people pressuring their way in while the few tried to fight their way out. I even had a little trouble myself pushing out.

Finally we depart to the street and arrive a little early to scope out the scene. We find the apartment and then go to a little brasserie to kill some time and maybe watch some sports. My French get's tested as we order a drink and I ask for the Toilettes. I can tell I'm getting better, but not even close because the waiter immediately switched to English and told us what they had. Ah, it's frustrating. We go back to the apartment and try to find which door was actually his. You see he told us he lived on left door on the 2nd floor. Easy right? Well not so much when you don't know if the bottom floor is the first or zero floor... then once you climb the stairs, which are like the narrow binding spiral staircase the doors, there is one on the left and then a tight turn and two more. So you think to yourself ok, obviously the one on the left is the far left, not the little turn and the door on the left, or would he have said the first door instead of the left door?? Is it the second floor or the third floor? About this time the lights go out... remember the energy conservation... Yeah.

Anyways we find the door it's the far left one on the 3rd floor. Jean Jaques is a really neat guy. Think Albert Einstein white hair but curly a tall guy as well who gives off the air of intelligence. Later we find out he is a math and physics teacher, no wonder. He is a really nice guy, one I enjoyed just sitting down and talking with about everything. From politics and Obama, to the lack of religion in France and his own "Catholicism" eventhough he openly stated he didn't believe in God, too French people and their customs, to traveling in America and his experiences with Matt's aunt and uncle, and all sorts of things in between. It feels really good to have a real intellectual conversation, not one where it is just a dump of information, where you feel good about spilling your knowledge on someone else, but a Real conversation. One where both parties leave thinking differently. I thuroughly enjoyed it.

We also meet his son who was 26, named Camille. He is in school fixing to take his finals exam. In France the government controls the hiring of civil servants, i.e. teachers, and they do not need a whole lot at this time. Basically it depends on whose retired. This is a lot different from the US where we are in need of teachers, strike that... in need of GOOD teachers. Apparently he has to be first or second on his exam out of the 10 or so registered. This is for a job outside of Paris in the suburbs. Maybe we'll get to go out with him some night.

Ok so lets get to the dinner itself. A masterpiece in it's own rite...this is saying something when coming from France the home of some pretty great art, like Matisse, Kandinsky, Monet, Van Gogh, etc... Now that I've got your attention, let me make you really taste the food. Of course too begin with we have a baggette and some wine. Let's stop there. First, Jean Jaques didn't know if we would like wine being American, but wanting to experience all that is France we had to oblige. (side note, I'm falling for the cheese, wine and bread mix) So Jean Jaques goes down to his celluar or bottom holding cell in the apartment complex and grabs a bottle of red wine. I don't know what kind it was, but let me just say it was amazing. Apparently he get's the barrels, yes that's right the barrels of wine and bottles them himself. Wow. It tastes really good, not to sweet, not too dry, and a great taste.

After we get through munching on the bread, and the small breadsticks he brought. We are treated we Confit de Canard. A nice duck leg that falls off the bone. I don't know how often I've eaten duck, or if I even have before...I'm not sure. The taste makes me want to eat it again. It's a darker meat and each bite is filled with flavor. He also brings Pomme duchess a bite size deep fried potatoe mix, which is really tasty and compliments the meat. It's also accompanied by a side salad. The meal is great, even better the conversation. We are then treated with a nice taste of a fine French cheese. I don't know if I've spoken much about French cheese's, but the stronger the smell the better the taste! I mean it's pretty intense and alone, I don't think it would be very good... but the mix is great and really works.

Next we have a digestion to help ease the stomach and clear the palate for dessert. Digestion for this meal consists of a strong Eastern European rum. I really don't know, but it was a Slovakian looking bottle that I couldn't comprehend. Afterwards, he brings out a nice lemon cake and a caramel creme that has the consistency of flan. It is really sweet and with the lemon cake it is a good match. Finish that off with a small sip of courvoisier or Cognac and you have yourself home cooked French meal number 2. It really was quite an enjoyable experience, expecially when we had no clue what to expect. I mean go meet some random guy for dinner. Who knows how that's gonna end up...

Afterwards we head over to the train to meet up with some of Matt's French connections. Apparently a sister of someone he knew from home. We make our way to some place called footsie. This place is one of the neatest concepts I've ever seen. If I owned a bar I would totally do this. So you walk in and above the bar you notice ticker takes...kind of odd. I mean maybe this is the hang out for financial traders, whatever.... but then you notice that instead of companies it is types of drinks served. Every 5 mins or so the new stock prices come in, depending on the products sold last round and demand, much like the real stock market. So let's say I buy a coke and a budweiser (btw this is the first place I've seen with the american classic....mostly bc American beer is not highly regarded here (it's just weaker) ) the next five mins both coke and bud will increase in prices. Maybe some other things will decrease and intice you to buy. The key though is as the night progresses you consistently raise the overall average price of drinks thus making more money and inticing more buying so people feel they got a "deal".

It was a neat place, we meet all the friends and they're a breath of fresh American air. You have Kerri, the sister, Rob, the sister's boyfriend celebrating his 21st birthday even though it's not his 21st b-day but apparently he'll be in Morocco so c'est la vie, Caroline, a friend, Ellis and Andrew, and Jessie, the friend in town for a couple of days looking at a school in Europe to get a masters, but turns out I think he broke up with his girlfriend and left the country. He's a small town guy, so I kind of like him, he has his own business or something, but he spits a little when he talks. Atleast he has some good thinks to talk about though. Kind of like the guy. So that was the crew.

We hang out at footsie and then around 12:30 or so Matt and I decide to leave so we can make the 1am final train ride to Cergy.... Did I say 1, bc that's what I thought it was until I got told other wise by the crew. Apparently the last ride was 12. Great. What do I do? How bout make the night neverending...

We stay a little longer and then make our way to a bus stop and hop on. Bus rides at night are a tad bit creepy in the middle of Paris. Not to friendly, and the people are a little bit odd. So this we hop on and I don't quite catch what happens but Kerri moves away kind of upset. Some weird guy is speaking French. Rob follows Kerri, then out of no where a couple mins later, Rob is a little upset and goes Hulk on us and tries to push his way to creepy guy... OK. This is not going to happen. Can't happen. Won't let it. We calm Rob down, find out the guy touched her or something so we hop off and end up at some other place which seems pretty normal.

It's some type of hideout place or something because you walk around and it looks pretty normal but then we follow the crew and end up in some old cave type of thing that looks like it was used as a wine cellar back in the day. It's been converted into a small lounge, a bar, and a downstairs dance club. It's crazy. We dance a little bit and they start pumping some spanish salsa and I see some Spanish group singing loudly and I think to myself. Here I am in some English type of bar, in some under ground cave, in the middle of Paris, from the United States, listening to Spanish music while some spanish crew salsa's to it. What? .... no really.... What? I just laugh, "life is in the journey."

We make our way out and some weird guy is following us. We hop on various buses, passing different landmarks on the late night bus. Jump off finally evading weirdo and then walk about a mile or so to the University where the crew is in school and living. Thankfully the have been gracious enough to accomodate Matt and I for a few hours before we can hop onto the next train to Cergy. We end up staying in a room with only one small twin size bed. I'm 6'4" and matt's probably 6'1" or 6'2".... Great... oddly enough there is a student in the dorm hall carrying a matress. Someone inside thinks I've lost it when I start ranting to him about can I borrow your matress. Too bad he was visiting too and borrowing someone elses who was out of town. My powers of persuasion must be a tad bit off...

So me and matt made do and napped for a couple hours before waking up and catching the morning train to Cergy, which thankfully the stop was right across the street from the University. We made it back to Cergy around 11am in a neverending night. I am just thankful for the experience and the story to tell.

Down, Set, Freeze

Ok this is just a quick side note, but it's something that has never happened to me before. Tonight at practice it was cold. Not snuggle around a camp fire cold, not wrap up and stay warm cold...no no no! I'm talking frozen fingers, can't move your body, drink a bottle of liquor and jump off the Titanic like that one guy from the movie type of cold, but I want to clarify it was not close to the ice bowl Cowboys vs Packers cold. So I know it could've been worse. (Atleast to me... fyi Texas was always hot, and Atlanta not that cold either....I've been lucky)

So anyways something happened that I thought was incredible. It defines the cold for me. So I was coaching the line on some blocking schemes and I took out my mouthpiece after doing sled work with the guys. I started talking about play action blocking schemes and literally 5 mins later I stopped to get back in the drill and demonstrate. I grabbed my mouthpiece and put it in my mouth and I literally bit into ice. My saliva had frozen in 5 mins, that's what type of cold were talking. Now I know there has been worse and I know some people from the north might have had this experience, but it was new to me. I mean seriously my spit freezing. You'll have to let me know if that's something that happens often or if it was that cold...

Musculation OCD

Yesterday I went to the gym to work out and I encountered the strangest man I have ever met. The gym we lift at is not a LA Fitness, but it's got all the necessities. Anyways needless to say the gym is a little disorganized there are your typical weights out of place and a couple of bars with weights still on them. I was doing some front squats, which I had to do a make shift workout spot because some guy thought it was a great idea to use the squat rack as a coat hanger. That's another story...

So I've pulled a bar from one of the bench racks and loaded it up and set it out in the middle of the gym. I am in the middle of hang cleaning the bar in order to be able to hold the bar on my shoulders and front squat. Then all of a sudden here comes mister OCD. I mean this isn't a minute case of obsesive compulsive disorder, this is like some worse then MTV "I Have OCD" type of stuff. Here's just a little video about OCD... but anyways...

A diagram to help understand what we are working with here...

So I am in the middle of cleaning the weight and this behemoth of a man comes up behind me. He's dressed in a cut off sweatshirt that's 2 sizes too big and his sleeves are gone, on top of that he has a denim looking vest type thing, perfect for working out. I know I'd rather have a denim vest then under armour ANY day... He basically looks like a big French Russian who just got through watching Rocky beat up some frozen meat. So this guy pushes his way behind me with a bar from the side to the rack where I just took the bar I am currently using. OK. No biggie beside he almost hit me in the middle of lifting some heavy weight and having me fall back on my butt. I figured he just really wanted to use that specific bench... I was wrong

He then preceds to move back and forth from the rack behind me to the rack in the front left of me in order to put 2 25 lb or 10 kilo plates on the bar he just set up. So he's gonna bench what he just set up right? Wrong. After he does this then he goes around the room picking up other random curl bars that still had weights on them and slams them upright right in front of me and cleans the bar. Then walks the bar behind me and puts it up. At this point I'm thinking maybe he's just the janitor or what not, eventhough I've never seen him before.

So the whole time I'm trying to do set's of squats this guy keeps unracking the weight literally 2 feet in front of me and then walking right behind me to line up the bars. Ok so after he's racked the curl bars he then picks up all the free weights and alligns them in the correct spot. He then decides to ask some of the other French guys what bars/machines they are using so he can fix them too. He ask's them because most of those guys take 30 mins to stare at their bodies and the other half a minute to lift, so it's hard to tell what someones actually using in the gym. Sidenote... So he cleans the incline bars the other bench and picks up any plates that have been laying out. He also aligns the clips that hold the weight in place in perfect order. All while being able to distract me from lifting and actually being right in the way.

Hahaha....actually one time he almost fell when I moved from front squats to straight leg deadlift. I was bending down to pick up the weight and as I moved it upwards, I guess he didn't realize how close he was to me and I almost knicked him. This of corse startled him because he was in the zone, the clean up the weight room zone. He almost busted it and had to catch him self on the bench. I felt bad for a second and then was like, well why is he doing this. It was bad because even all the French lifters were getting annoyed

When this guys finished, it's pristine. It is a beautiful looking weight room. He's only spent 30 mins and not a weight is out of place. Only then does he actually begin lifting with his partner. I wanted to laugh. It was the craziest thing I've ever seen in the weight room...we'll besides Ryan Lara almost getting crushed from a missed powerclean but being flexible enough to limbo all the way to the ground with the bar crushing down on him...

The king and his castle.

So yesterday we went to Versailles with Coach Mas to see the chateau of the king and learn a little history. It was the longest walking I've done it quite some time. A little history first before I jump into explaining the chateau... So King Louis the XIV started building the castle out of his father Louis the XIII's old hunting grounds. The grounds where in the countryside, not so much now, and the king decided to move from Rome to Versailles because the lords had tried to overpower him while he was a boy. Louis the XIV became king at 5, and took full power once he turned 22. So he didn't trust the lords and decided to move away from Paris and make Versailles the center of all political power.

So he began building on his father's land and never actually got to see the completion of the chateau. Louis the XV then built on the Opera and the Petit Trianon. Louis the XVI then took control and he was actually the king there when the French Revolutionaries marched upon him from Paris and took him back and beheaded him. Louis the XVI could have stopped them and had his army kill the French people, but he did not want his French people to die. So he let them come. There is a neat part of history because as the people were coming to kill the king, someone shouted "God save the Queen" and was able to warn the Queen from three rooms away, so she could escape. We actually got to see the secret door from which she left and made her way out safely. It was neat standing from the King's bedside balcony looking upon the courtyard imagining that he once stood there greeting the people who were coming to kill him. Also in one of the king's room, it is noted that Benjamin Franklin actually signed a peace treaty with France in that same room. It is nuts when you really start thinking about the history and viewing the castle with that type of mindset.

So as we walked in I must say the rooms are granduer. They are magnificent. The detail throughout the chateau is incredible. There are so many paintings and sculptures that really show the French love of arts. I can't even begin to describe all of them. Some of my favorites though included the line of sculptures coming from the bottom floor of the Orleans family and other important members of the time. The rendetion of the last supper. The painting of an overview of Versailles. The ceiling in the chapel. The chapel itself. The sculpting of the king on his horse. ETC. ETC. ETC. There's just so many...hopefully you can see some of the pictures.

Anyways the beds in the bedrooms looked so small, but actually it was just the overwhelming size of the room that made it appear so. I couldn't believe that it was the same bed a king slept on. That's nuts. Hundreds of people would actually come and watch as the king awoke or went to bed. I couldn't imagine that. Why would he entertain people coming to see him sleep??? There is a brillant painting above the Kings bed of a woman (symbolizing France) watching over him as he slept. Also I laughed when the audio tour told us that a woman would come change his shirt every morning because apparently the king sweats a lot!! Ha ha. This was Louis XIV.

Could you imagine though being a king? I mean you could never be alone, never. I mean I know sometimes I need space and just want to get away. Even with the kings "get aways" people were still around him. Tough job to inherit from divine right. Anyways I don't think it was that bad always getting what you want. I mean imagine the parties he threw and the music he listened to. Speaking of, the kings favorite was Lully. As we drove to the castle coach mas played some Lully to get us in the mood. I love it.

So after checking out the house. The Kings chambers, Queens chambers, the Dauphines apartements, the Salle de mange, the chapel, the antichambers, and all else we grabed a bite to eat next to a class from middle school. They were all munching on some sandwich's and we were as well. We then started one of the longest walks every. The grounds are huge. I mean it goes further then we could see. It's enormous. The walkways are so beautiful. Trees line the never ending baths, coble stone streets. Beautiful sculptures. The fountains come on as the king marched by and went off as he left. I imagined how he entertained himself. I mean instead of plugging in an IPod he just said "Maestro, play that new jam." What a life. I imagined the king walking during the day through the same park I was walking and the minestrals following him, the musicians playing. The people gazing. Apparently the park was open to the people as long as you had a hat on back in the day. Oh and that reminds me.

That reminds me of the billards room in the Grand Trianon. The king would be playing some pool and the musicians sat up top opening the windows playing down to the king. How cool. The Trianon was the kings get away. A place to get away from the Pomp and Circumstance and unwind a little bit. After viewing this, we saw the Petit Trianon, a place for Marie Antionette and later Napolean's wife. It was small and quaint. We then took the walk to the village built by the King for Marie Antionette to remind her of home. The villagers lived in this and it is actually still used today for some of the same purposes. Oh but the walk...haha... we went all the way around to the back entrance, and it was locked. So coach had a bright idea to hop the moat and just climb up. HAHAHA. YEA RIGHT. Then we walked all the way back to the Petit Trianon and then from there walked back through the garden paths to the village.

It was neat, I felt like I was in another country. I mean it's such a different look and feel. I knew Marie must have loved this. A swan followed me around for a little bit looking for some food. The coy in the pond was definitely overstocked. I loved that they hadn't restored this village, but kept it as it was. It made me think, other countries have so much history. I mean ours seems really small, in comparison. I guess maybe that's why some Americans do not have much pride. I remember writting a paper about that for college my first year. I wish I had this experience to help me understand why. Our history is so young. We don't have the same length of time as other countries. Maybe that's why A-Rod wants to play for the Dominican Republic instead of America, why athletes take dual citizenship so they can play in the olympics, why people have more pride in their Mexican, African, Asian, South American, or European heritage. There's more history in those parts. I have no problem with that, I just wish maybe if we had more of a history, the American people would have more American Pride. Maybe more like Texas pride!! (sorry gotta throw that in every chance I get...DONT MESS WITH TEXAS!!!)

I digress... so we walked back and found Marie Antionette's secret grotto, where she met probably just a few people. It was hard to find, and you also could barely see it. If I didn't know I was looking for it, I probably would of passed it over as some rocks. In fact, I actually did that without even knowing it. There is a little peep hole to see who is coming and a door that blocks off. How cool to have a secret meeting place. I imagined the Queen talking about secrets or even meeting a secret lover or something of that matter. I think there was definitely some of that going on.

Overall it was beautiful even in the snow. Maybe I'll get to go back and see it in the Spring. The picture link is here. Pictures. I have to go to Paris now, so I will come back and re work on this and add some photos, but I wanted to get it out ASAP.

It's official, I lost my virginity...

Let me tell you how it happened. It was friday night I had just gotten through with another frigid practice at around 10:30. We went out with coach to some of his friends party. Apparently there were a lot of single French flight attendents and they were having a little get together at one of their apartments. We got there and it literally didn't take but about five minutes til it happened. I hadn't even met the girl yet, nor got her name for that matter... this was then followed by two other random girls that I hadn't met yet either... I guess it's a French thing...


My social kiss greeting virginity had been taken by a flight attendent and followed quickly by some more. It is rather awkard when your used to a hand shake and maybe a side hug. I felt so weird having a girl I had never met kiss me on both cheeks. But it is better then the normal handshake I must say. Also though the French are best at it, but it is not that often that men kiss men like the video says. This is more so reserved for maybe special formal occasions between really close friends. I for instance have not seen this male greeting yet in France, but I'll be sure to let you know when that changes.

It was funny later when we were at the hockey players house, and Olivier's girlfriend did the same when she was leaving. We talked about it and apparently it's weird for them when they go to the US to extend a hand and shake. Roland said he has to catch himself because he often turns his check when departing or saying goodbye. The French have a customary type of handshake which is more so a wrap your hand around the thumb as they interlock instead of actually gripping the entire hand. It's more of like a greeting with your boys, but that's it. No following finger lock or "pounding", just a long lock. All of the guys do it and that has been another thing getting used to. It may just be amonst the younger guys, but everyone I have met so far does the same. It's tough because I'm used to the long handshakes in America with friends.

I went to Chateau de Versailles today... I will update you on that A demain....for now Bonne nuit.

The Jokers

I about lost my mind when I heard country music blasting in the club last friday night. I literally laughed out loud. Even though it was Shania Twain's "man I feel like a woman," it was hilarious. I mean seriously this is like the comic relief in the middle of a movie. This is my life. It was funny. Ok first let me tell you about club duplex.

So you walk in, more like down, into the club from the street level. There are some typical security guys bouncing/deciding who comes in or not. Then once inside there is a main level on top which is a room more with a latin feel and very large. It's only open Vendredi and Samedi. Then there are two more rooms down stairs one a straight up techno type of dance eoom you'd expect in Europe and the other a more hip-hop style. Well I guess hip-hop night was more like open mix night because they played 50's music, beach boys, COUNTRY, and same other golden oldies mixed in with your French/American hip hop mix. It was awesome.

I went to another hockey game Saturday night. Let me just say it was the most incredible tie I have ever seen. I'll paint a picture. The Jokers of Cergy vs the Vipers of Montpellier. The Jokers are your scrappers, your tough kids who can all skate fast and have the gumption to take a crack at the large defenders. The Vipers are from a rich district/team....you can easily tell by the massive amount of advertisements on their jerseys.... I mean seriously I thought the name of there team was some Irish Pub!! That being said you look at these guys and there atleast a foot taller on average then the Jokers. I mean there some big boys. Numbers 18, 25, 77 are all huge defenders, I'd say atleast 6' 6". With names like Vernikov, Urosev, Simak, you can tell there not from France...18 is your prototypical tough guy hockey player, a huge Ukranian getting paid to protect the goalie and rough up the other players....the nemisis.

The first period goes off and it's a battle. If you could fight in this league without suffering being ejected, I swear 4 fight's would've broken out in the first period alone. Its brutal and intense. I find myself on the edge of my seat and entertained with the general gladitoral battles that all men love. #81 for the Jokers, Roland Fontaine, a fast skating small guy wouldn't back down. It was fun watching him jaw with the players from the other team, I mainly watched him bc he was speaking English...it's amazing how much that sticks out in France.... Anyways several times the big guys were elbowing him in the head and playin' a little cheap and he just said in esscence do it again and I'll knock your teeth end. It was fun watching him check the the Ukraine Vernikov into the boards a couple times after he tried a big hit. At the end of the period it's scoreless.

The next period has more action as the Jokers give up a goal a man up. The Vipers skate in attack mode even a player down. But the Jokers quickly answer with a goal to the top shelf on a nice cross pass. The period ends and the Vipers scored another goal. The last period is where most of the highlights come. On one play the Jokers cleared the puck and the goalie came out to get it, but a fast skating Joker went after the puck and leveled the goalie onto the ice. It was vicious, the goalies feet were in the air and you could tell he wasn't used to being hit. Afterwards he laid on the ice and really looked like a baby. The fans were on him. It's physical and the Jokers get scored on again. It's 3-1 and not looking good. Finally with about 5 mins left to play the Jokers score on the Vipers who look like a team trying not to lose, instead of playing to win. After seeing this the coach yells at his players and they start attacking a little more. In fact they scored a goal following the Jokers answer, but it was called off because the player apparently hit it with his hand into the goal...or something of that nature....I'm not to familar with the rule but it was an illegal touching of some sort.

After this the Jokers try to mount a comeback... the clock keeps ticking... 3 mins 2 mins 1 mins.... Come on guys. The captain number 17 Olivier Viennot looks like he has the answer but barley misses the top post. It's frustrating as a fan because you want them to win so bad. Despite being a little cold sitting so close to the ice. Tick tock, tick tock. Time is winding down. Now theres 20 seconds, 15, 10 ...man this isn't gonna happen... but the Jokers never lose heart. The lay it all on the line. With 1 second left on the clock a Joker rapped around the goal passed it to number 8 the Canadian player who slaps it in for a goal. The clock winds and that's the game. It was classic. The best hockey game I've ever watched.

Later it turns out we end up hanging out with Roland, Olivier, and Sylvain (the goalie from Canada) at their house. I think they were friends with Tony, the lineman last year. There solid guys and we talk about the game and stuff. Hopefully we'll hang out with them more. They said they play poker at their house some times... luckily I know the game just a little bit!!!

Life is good.

Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

I meet an Austrian girl at the club duplex and it reminded me of this song...


So I wrote my own about my experience in France...

1No raindrops on footballs, and Alyou with glasses
2Champs de Elyses and the high fashion lasses
3Narrow driving alleys and cobble stone streets
4These are a few of my favorite things.


5Meeting new people and trying to speak French
6Pastrys and chocolate and fromage with a stench
7Life still surreal and the Arch De Triumphe.
8These are a few of my favorite stuff.


9Learning the history and going to Chateaus
10All my new teamates and lockeroom French flos
11Cafe's and Pubs and Ice hockey rinks
12These are a few of my favorite things.


....There's plenty more but I just thought this would be humorous!

Snorring man

After the Eiffel Tower, we walked to Champs de Elyses to watch Quantam of Solace the new James Bond movie. I'm a 007 fan and I like the new guy Daniel Craig a lot. Anyways it's a good movie if your a man. Great action scenes, great get away scenes, car chase, I mean it was pretty entertaining. The plots no award winner for best twist or anything, but it's what you expect from a James bond movie. However I did think it was lacking a little bit in the cool gadgetry aspect that I'm accustomed to with James Bond. I mean don't get me wrong the bureau had a pretty sweet computer like a touch screen on crack, but it's not something I haven't seen before. Also, it wasn't something Bond even used. I digress.

The reason I bring this up is to tell you about the movie theater itself and maybe some of the people in it. So we go in and make sure that it is playing in English. Good call, instead of racking my brain trying to figure out French (like I do with Rosetta Stone....btw I'm a fan of the stone, but it's tough... hopefully before June I'll be able to speak some French!!!) So we go into the theater and I don't know if we just drew the short stick because the theater is about twice the size of a home theater... it might even be the same size as the theater in the SAE house at Tech. But the seats are comfortable and there are not that many people watching anyway

Speaking of people "watching" ... let me tell you about the family in front of us. So a husband, wife, and daughter, the daughter was probably my age, were sitting in front of us. In the middle of one of the action scenes the husband starts snoring... REALLY? I mean you can do whatever you like, but seriously go to a high action packed movie and fall asleep... to each their own... I look over at Matt and then try coughing loud to wake him up... no good, then Matt tries nudging him in the back of his seat. This guys a sleeping rock... whatever, then maybe 9 mins later the daughter also falls asleep. Ok, so maybe they are a narcoleptic family! I just couldn't believe it. I have sounds of gun shots and snoring all in one.

Haha, it was a humourus experience. Here's a pic from Champs de Elyses. I wish I could capture the depth of it. This is only about a 3rd of the way down, but I wanted to be able to see the Arch. It is so cool during Christmas time because All the lights on the trees lining the street fall. Maybe I'll get Matt to take a video and show you guys... Speaking of Christmas... I can't believe it is here already. I think all I want for christmas is a chickfila peach bowl ticket!!! hahaha... Anyways hope you are enjoying the holidays. Au revoir.

Eiffel Tower

The base of the Eiffel Tower

The other day, when I got stopped by the policier, we were headed to the Eiffel Tower. I had this picture in my head that the Eiffel tower is the icon of Paris and France. I mean it is probably the single most recognizable building, let alone probably one of the most recognizable structures in the world... I mean competiting against the Pyramids and the Great Wall of China I'd say it's doing pretty good. Seriously though when you get close to this thing it takes all of a second to realize how big this thing is. I mean it is so much wider then I thought it would be.

My first view of the Eiffel Tower up close

We approached the tower from the north, coming alongside the river. It is a pretty neat view, you can even see that the tower has a circle of stars on that side of the structure. There are tons of lovers trying to take snap shots of the tower in the background and tons of tourists doing the same. I think I took maybe 5 different peoples pictures before we left. Let's also not forget, for 3 Euros you can take home a keychain remembering your encounter from one of the many scam artists trying to make a quick buck. Boy can they get annoying. All of them carry the same ring of key chains with hundreds of silver or gold replica Eiffel Towers, probably worth 30cents a piece.

The view from the park.

I think the best view was from the park that is situated south of the tower. It is breathtaking and actually being right next to it was pretty cool. Just the architecture was pretty neat, being that it was built over 100 years ago. However, it does have more of a modern feel then most of Paris. I don't know how I feel about this. I mean I love the old town, the quaint little houses in Pontoise and Cergy, the old stones made for walls and the tiny passage ways and alleys that fill the city, and the cafe's on every new corner. But the Eiffel Tower stands alone, theres no other building like it.

The Eiffel n Me!!!

We didn't get to go on the top though, bc there was hunderds of people in line and only one towers lift was working.... THERES NO WAY I'M WALKING 81 FLOORS TO THE TOP... so I'll go up some other time. All in all though it was cool getting to see it with my own eyes.

a couple random thoughts...

A: The police hate me... I got stopped again today switching trains in Paris. What the crap? I am to American... I must just stick out way to much. Thankfully they let me off when they heard we were football players who got paid...I now proudly boast the international professional athlete card!

B: My coach can not do a regular sit up. Not one, he can crunch and do toe touches, but can not do a sit up. I cracked up laughing when I discovered this at the gym the other day.

C: Ok I don't know if I've just been missing the trends or what, but apparently it's cool to carry around your phone blasting the theme track to your life...via old school beatboxer's carrying the radio on their shoulder... I mean seriously... do you really need a soundtrack? can you not afford earphones....do we give 2 cents to what your musical tastes are? (especially when it sucks???) I thought it was just highschool kids...but no this old lady probably 60's was doing the same. No consideration, I guess it's just the craze.

D: Speaking of music I'll hit you guys up with some of the high played stuff, and some of the straight ridiculously weird stuff:

Bienvenue Chez Les Bylkas
Sefyu
Estelle and Kanye West : American Boy
THE DOWN RIGHT WEIRD:
Mylene Farmer LIBERTINE (NOTE NUDITY, NOT KOSHER)

That's all for now but there is some good techno too! Kate Ryan Elle ella l'a

Bonne Nuit!

Is there ANY more room in your stomach?

After Friday nights practice and bowling extraveganza. Will said we would go work out and then he was going to take us out to a great French meal.... By the way the Friday night bowling/hanging out after practice was awesome. The place we go to is just like a Dave N Buster's or something of that nature. Anyways we all go around have a beer from this thing Giraffe, which is called so because it's a long tube a little more then a yard high that is filled with liquids. It looks like something Willy Wonka created for Wonkaland. We sit around and talk and just have fun. I decide to go check out the place, I find some solid games to play. They have a punching machine that measures your power, a hammer that does the same, and of course it wouldn't be Europe without a huge soccer ball measuring your leg power.

It's fun we mess around on that for a while and bump chest's measuring who's the bigger man. Then some little small guy we didn't know challenge's me to a punching competition, in French. I had no clue what he was saying... I was sure he wanted to see who was a better puncher, but i didn't know if there was a wager on this, so I wanted to be clear. He went first with some kinda of hook/cross combination... he was the perfect height to hit the machine, me however being a little taller had to hit down on the thing...Would that be a problem for me.... of course not, I'M FROM TEXAS!!! :) I won... we then bowled as a team.

Just some of the guys hanging at the Speed Park.

Matty P and myself teamed up, normally I suck at bowling but I got 2 strikes a spare, one total miss hitting only 4 pins, and then 9.... it was such a good time bonding with me new team. There is just a great joy when you add a little competition. You can tell they were joshing each other about and making fun of the gutterballs, eventhough sometimes I'd look back at Matt and in a glance say DID YOU GET THAT?!? of course not... but it comes with the territory. Learning french is fun. I'm on that Rosetta Stone, and will makes fun of me for saying Le Poisson nage... Yea no crap the fish swims, Have you EVER seen a fish that doesn't swim? Me neither.

Back to bowling, it came down to our last bowl... Matty P just had to get a strike or spare and then hit 4 pins.... The pressure is on and everyone is surronding him yelling, screaming, and trying to knock him off his game. Just like a crazy football crowd as the opposing offense is trying to score in the redzone. It was great, he hit a strike... Money in the bank... RIGHT?



WRONG.... ahhh Matt with two bowls left missed by 2 pins... It was such a close game that we ended up in 4th. Out of a medal even... I thought of the olympic archer who lost focus and missed his gold medal to get nothing... BUT it was fun.... anyways back to THE MOST FOOD IN THE WORLD....

So Saturday after lifting Will, Loic, Matty P, and myself headed to Paris to eat at this steak house that was in a word... FILLING. Before we even got to the place, the Policier stopped us and made us pull onto a side street away from where we were headed. She was a nice lady and I think she really was just flirting with Loic who was driving at the time, that or me in the front seat just screams AMERICAN. (for the record i'm tired of that....and i have no clue why we stick out so much) After passing the check we presumed our course. By this time it's close to 12:30 and we haven't eaten anything all day because Will promised there is no way we'll finish our meal. Challenge, I'll accept. Have you ever seen me eat? I remember stuffing my face as a kid and being forced to watch myself eat in the Red Top in Angleton. Please, no problemo.

The Police at the check point.

We drive around and can't find a parking spot for a while. There is a daily market so parking is tough, blocked off by the large trucks carring produce, knock of watches, purses, etc. Finally I see one at the end that we snag and take. Will runs to the ATM and we walk through the market. The smell is like roses and mustard gas. A butcher is burning of the feathers of a pheasant for a lady. Let me just tell you this, it stinks. It makes you think about where your food comes from. (Justin IDK about that chicken farming...just stay away from the burning feathers part... :) )

Finally we get to the steak house and Will is getting a little restless. See I failed to mention that we just worked out and it was tough. For those of you who don't work out, you really need to feed the body afterwards to replenish. I don't think Will had worked out like that in a while either. We get to our table and I push back the wooden booth to make room for the 3 lineman and QB. Automatically Will asks for the Pain... Bread is so good in France, have I mentioned that? We munch on that a little bit and Will orders for all of us. It is a huge steak, let me say HUGE. Think Godzilla, the Grand Canyon, think Moby Dick, think GEORGIA TECH over GEORGIA....

Let me tell you though that the French when you say medium, medium is more rare then medium... I had a piece that was just a little bit chewy and rare, but other then that it's great. When they present the steak to you, it's just a steak on a plate... I'm thinking really.... I mean don't get me wrong it takes up the plate, but no veggies, no salad? huh.... and then here comes the waiter with a huge pot of potatoes...Trufade... oh my heavens... It's good....its the best, it's a huge pot with potatoes that have been cooked mixed with garlic and cheese and are a mix between mashed potatoes and pan fried potatoes, so crispy and creamy.... OH MY... awesome. Again you can have as many potatoes as you want. After I finished the steak and the potatoes, we got more potatoes... I didn't know how i scarfed this down.. It's a lot... I look at my stomach in shock that I'm still able to fit in the table. It was great.

The best part of the meal was when the steaks arrived and how eerily how quite it was while we ate. For 15 mins no words were spoken. We just enjoyed. This was a drastic change from Will who was about to eat his hand he was so hungry, trying to hurry the waiter up!!! We then walk out satisfied just being lineman, I don't think Matt's going to be able to eat with us that often or else he's gonna become the tight end. But were not finished yet. I had mentioned eating a crepe and funny thing, right next door there is a shop that has them... I'm loving dessert in France. It's so good. We go sit in and it is a classy little spot, a little more modern as far as tables, chairs, silverwear, waiters attire...but still old school in the ceilings and decor. I like it.

Will with his Crepe.

We grab some crepes and they are delicious. I have the chocolate with bananas and they top it with whipped cream. So good. The waiters make a comment about us coming from next door and still being able to eat. He says no one ever does that. I smile. I'm a lineman. Takes me back to having the waiter from Magianno's come out to the table after my first preseason camp eating with the boys. I'm smile deep inside. By then I am stuffed, I cant move and I'm starting to get tired.

I don't know why the French are not fat, I mean I am eating like crazy over hear and it's so good. I am worried I might be 300 in no time... EHhhh. But we head back to the apartment with enough time to watch my boys beat the hell out of Georgia. (I'm a little jealous now seeing the pic's of my teamates eating the hedges at the puppies palace....I always wanted that, congrats boys now I can live vicariously through you!) It is an amazing day. LIFE IS GREAT. c'est la vie.

Amy for you a picture of some Euros...

Again check out the pics here...

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