Monday, January 11, 2010




: a temporary or second lodging

i was forced to take french for the entirety of elementary school. in sixth grade, before entering middle school, we were given a choice between french and spanish for the remainder of our school years. i chose french for two reasons:
1) i figured that since i already knew so much of it, i may as well pick up where i left off, and
2) this know-it-all girl ANNE, whom i really disliked, gave this preachy speech about how EVERYONE should take
spanish because of the growing hispanic population in our country. i also chose french to spite her.

i hate preachers.

some of my mom's friends have a PIED-A-TERRE in seattle, which is really convenient for me because they once gave my mom the key and offered us the use of their downtown apartment—a small space on the 22nd floor of a high-rise near the market. we were told to lie to the doorman and say we were their cousins so it didn't seem suspicious, but i kept forgetting their hyphenated last name (printz-kupeler? prince-kupelman? prinz-coppola?) so my mom had to do all the talking.

the male half of the hyphen (not sure which) is apparently really fascinated with holocaust literature and film; the apartment, otherwise barren, boasted at least six shelves worth of books and vhs tapes dedicated to this topic. i fell asleep on the fold-out sofa to some sub-par adaptation of the diary of anne frank.

there were also three two-liter bottles of DIET DR. PEPPER on their kitchen counter. this is the soda that might be offered to me in a game of would you rather. like, would you rather eat all of the bum-poo off of the burnside bridge or drink a tall, cool glass of DIET DR. PEPPER.

we only stayed for one night, but it was grand. staying in other people's PIED-A-TERREs is like pretending to be rich for a night. that was the first and only time in my life that i had a doorman. he was nice. i can't remember his name, but he recommended a good mexican restaurant.

je n'aime pas ANNE ou DIET DR. PEPPER. la. je l'ai dit.

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