Cold Hard Facts

People should read more. Get out more. Learn how to conversate. How to tell a story. Its come to my attention recently that people dont know how to tell a good story.

Is the art of conversation gone? What ever happened to witty anecdotes and tales of interest?

Does the art of conversation exist only with alcohol and a possible side of drug use? Are good stories only told at night when the bottle is open and the cards are on the table? I know sometimes I tell too much and for those of you out there who may find this in reference to them, well Im sorry. Oops. But at least you made a good story.

But not all stories at have to come at the price of another. Ive embellished and re-hashed many a tale of myself just for the amusement of others. And the point here? Well I think you know... Its that yes, Im interesting. I try to serve my stories Up with a twist. I dont waste time on non sense and unimportant details that really no one cares about. I mean have you ever listened to yourself tell a story? If you did would your mind wander halfway through and would you want to walk out of the room? Now imagine you hear yourself umming and awwing and desperately trying to make a stupid story interesting by adding immense details and the all-too-obvious fiction thrown in just for the sake of making yourself sound fascinating. Just stop. Because guess what? People like you better when you're quiet. Just sit there and look pretty and laugh at everyone else's stories. There's a time and place for everyone to shine. And yours my friend, just isnt in the spotlight. mmmk?

So next time you find yourself wanting to contribute, make a brief outline in your head and think of what the possible outcome you desire will be. A laugh? A cry? A phone number from the hottie across from you? I mean what is it exactly you are trying to achieve?

And lastly, Say it, dont spray it. Nobody likes to be covered in spit-- especially during Cold season.

G'Day Mate

So I just got back from a week in Australia. Spent one week in the land down under, first in the Gold Coast and then down to Sydney for a few days. Let me start here--28 hours of travel time, 24 hours of flight time. yeah...

I started with the first leg of 14 hours from Paris to Singapore. After landing at Changi Intl, I desperately needed a massage. My ankles were huge and my shoulders tense. More so than anything else, was the pure stress of knowing that I had 4 hours to kill and another 10 hour flight to take from Singapore to Brisbane.

As soon as I stepped into the airport, I thought it was a mirage. voila. SPA.

"Hello, pretty lady. You want massage package? I give you good price on complete package."

Yes I wanted it all. Pile it on. I killed 2 hours on a table and in a jelly foot bath in Singa. Lovely.

Then to board the next plane which had me locked in for 10 hours. All said and done, I left on a Thursday, arrived on a Saturday, and can safely say I look forward to never having to make that trip again.

Turns out, that although its summer season down under, it also happened to be an unlikely storm season. I went from a brisk 12 degrees in Paris to a humid 30 degrees in oz. Although hot, my hopes of returning to Paris tanner than the whole of the city, were quickly dashed with my first lightning sighting straight off the runway. That said...

By the time we arrived to Sydney, it was clear blue skies and Bondi beach had my name on it!

Sun, sand, clear water, and yummy food! hurray! All of a sudden, I was immersed! It was "g'day mate, g'day mate" all over the place! Especially when it was totally inappropriate for me to say it, I felt obliged. At night, in the morning, in the store, to the toll collectors on the road etc etc, Gday Mate!

All in all, I had a fab time in OZ and returned back to my beautiful Paris tan and happy.