Wednesday, April 11, 2012

paris hated me once (paris, france, not paris hilton, you dumb).

Once upon a time I was living in Paris for a study abroad program. It looked like this:


While in Paris, I looked like this:


When in Rome, right? (And by the way, that thing on my head is a beret, NOT a cowboy hat. Thank you.)

Anyway, it was my last day in Paris before my study abroad group left to do a two-week tour of the southern parts of France. And, like any normal college student, I hadn't yet done anything to get ready for the trip (Procrastination! YEAH!) Besides, all I had to do was pack all of my clothes, and I would be set.

But then I walked into my room.

There was my laundry. And, oh shoot, NONE of it was clean.

Well. Crap.
Notice how big that pile of laundry is. (this picture is, in fact, drawn to scale).



Houston, we have a problem.



I was going to be touring around southern France, but nowhere on our list of stops did the professor put the destination "laundromat." Which meant that I needed to do my laundry. And quick!

But, dang it Houston, we had another problem.

My host family had a washer, but did not have a dryer. Bleepity bleep bleepin' bleep.

But wait. It gets better: I was supposed to take my luggage to my professor's apartment in three hours. And I was NOT about to pack my clothes wet. No way. Mold and I had been in a fight for a long time and I wasn't about to try to reconcile things.


I put on my thinking cap (a hypothetical thinking cap, of course. Thinking caps aren't in style these days, you know).

After about 42.37 seconds of intense deliberation, I hatched a plan. I would brave the scary streets of Paris (I know, twist my arm) in search of a laundromat where I could dry my clothes. It was brilliant. It was epic. It was a guaranteed success.

So I set off wandering down one street.



So I went down another street.


Well... the next street looked promising...

Shoot. Well, how about the next street?
Okay, okay. I get it.

After about a half hour of wandering around without any luck whatsoever, I decided it was time to adapt my plan so that it included asking for directions. I spotted a lady who looked promising at a pharmacy on the corner, so I ran over to her.

"Hi, do you know where I can find a laundromat?" (Imagine me saying this in impeccable French. Because that's definitely what happened.)

She was very helpful.

Yay!
















But... Nothing.



So I decided to try again.












Nada.






























































THAT'S IT!!!!


NO MORE DIRECTIONS!


I HATE ALL PEOPLE!






I'M GOING MY OWN WAY AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU DUMMIES CAN DO TO STOP ME!








I stomped down the street.

Stomp.


Stomp.



Stomp.




Stomp.





And then, rising up out of the mist like magic, there it was in all its beauty, all its glory, all its magnificence.

I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus.



I'd never been so happy in my entire life. Ever.



My brilliant plan had worked!

Proof, once again, that I was a genius. Now all I needed to do was run the forty-three blocks back home, get my laundry, run back here and dry it!



Life was just!

Life was fair!

Life was finally going my way!





Until...












BOOM!
























...Really?

2 comments:

  1. hahahahahhaha omgosh this is PERFECT! I love it. I know exactly how this feels. I'm laughing out loud and your drawings totally rock!

    ReplyDelete

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