Wherein pictures try to make up for the fact that I've been neglecting you lately

This is from my first night out in Lyon. Elizabeth is a fellow American, and it was her 21st. Because I was the only one who understood the full significance of this, I made her do shots. This was the prettiest, but apparently it tasted like mouthwash.








This is the Cathedrale St. Jean, in Vieux Lyon (the old city). I haven't been inside yet, but I think it's very nice even with the scaffolding. The day this was taken there was an art fair in the place with lots of pottery and sculptures. There was also tons of awesome food (like real Belgian waffles) and a rather crappy band which played Hava Nagilah.













There was also this guy. Yes, he is dressed up as a penis. Priya and I couldn't even keep our eyes open, we were laughing so hard.

Evidently in France there is a tradition called "Enterrement du jeune fils", whereby all men about to get married have to get dressed up and embarrassed by their friends in public. Clearly, it takes on a sexual tone (as another friend had the pleasure of being serenaded by someone in a bee costume singing out the rigidity of a certain body part).

This has definitely been my favorite picture so far.







This is the club we went to last weekend. I suppose they thought they should translate "route" to English, despite the fact that it is also an English word. The whole decor of the place was "American", right down the Bud Lite signs, and they even had most of an airplane hanging from the ceiling, which was rather cool. The music, of course, sucked for most of the night, but we danced anyway.





After all, we had to teach them Europeans how to! You really can't tell from photos, but I'm sure you remember how bad the dancing was in Italy. This guy was from Strasbourg, and he was obsessed with Frances (whom you cannot see since she didn't want evidence that any of this had taken place). You might think he looks like a toolbag now, in that knitted sweater vest, and you'd be right -- but only partially. You see, this rare breed of loser was also wearing -- and I am not kidding you -- a black, lacy thong. He hiked up his vest many times that night just to show us how high the thong sat on his waist.

And he claimed to be straight.

It was really the most disturbing part of the night, except for perhaps this next picture...



...wherein "non-gay" dudes grind with each other on a large speaker, and other questionably-real dudes dance with spaghetti arms galore and perhaps some cases of St. Vitus' dance thrown in for good measure.

You really had to see it to believe it.














Meanwhile, I got likkerred up enough to get up on the speaker and dance myself (at this point, they were playing Shakira, Sean Paul and some old Beyonce, so I could justify it in saying that it wasn't bad techno). The short guy is Rami, a kiwi of indeterminate sexuality but who was actually quite a good dancer and really fun to have around for that essential male presence. I don't think I'm a very good dancer (Lisa will tell you I suck) but I can say with good conscience that I was much better than any of those French girls, whose idea of rhythm was little more than the feet-apart, feet-together kind of thing we did in middle school. Ugh.


Just to wrap up, a picture of me and Priya. She lives downstairs from me and we met on the first day of orientation. I pretty much live at her place half the time now too, since it's cozier and she doesn't have a roommate. Also, she cooks some of the best Indian food ever, and you know how I am about that. She's even invited me to London in November to celebrate Diwali -- I can't wait! It's nice to have a great friend here, even if she's leaving in January to go to Valencia.




And that, my dear, is a wrap. At least till next week. The pictures, I'm sure, will keep coming. This place is amazing, and the only thing that would make it better is, of course, your presence. So think about that visit!

xxxAnnie