No, that’s not Janie Sparkles; it’s Foot Foot! He’s a warm brown brindle Frenchie that we’ve run into at the dog park. Last night, he, Janie and Bibby had a wonderful wander in the dusty paths of Cesar Chavez park in Berkeley. It was our first big off-leash adventure since going away.

While not directly about Paris (they are French bulldogs after all), leaving Janie at Pet Camp was the hardest part about going away. I’m sure she enjoy her play sessions, both with the small dogs and the gentle larger dogs (we asked that she be moved up because she likes ’em bigger). It’s just not the same as sleeping in our bed or snoring next to us on the couch.

It appears that she lost some weight during her stay, as we expected. Foot Foot’s mom said Janie makes him look like a porker. That’s what you get when you’re not food-motivated. She has been a more frequent member of the clean-plate/bowl club and pooping like a champ.

Her stay at camp didn’t affect her personality. She’s getting so much love at the office and looking for cuddles and belly rubs whenever possible. She’s just as playful as always and seems truly happy to see us.

Four years ago, I wouldn’t have believed you that I’d be a knitter. The same goes for being a dog person. Although I’ve got the man of my dreams, my heart belongs to this furry little lady and her friends.

I succumbed… this is my project-that-dare-not-speak-its-name. Finished this morning, final dimensions: 6′ x 1′. I thought the drape of the SWTC Bamboo would make a nice gay Euro scarf and it would be a great chance to play with dropped stitches. Why not try the most contagious pattern on the Interwebs?

I blame the podcasts (specifically Brenda‘s first episode) for piquing my interest in this oft-knit pattern. Now, I’m not a shawl guy (per new ex-pats in Germany podcast Knitters Uncensored)… I call it a scarf. Besides, the c(l/r)apotis is not in the same league as these shawls#151;have you seen what Elemmaciltur and Mel have made?

I started this black/white/red/silver guy last December and it’s been hibernating for a few months as socks have taken over my world. Cataloguing it into my Ravelry account brought it back to my attention. Just about a foot left, it was a nice break from the round-and-round of my current cable-y sock fetish to work simple and flat. I started this to satisfy my long-running “gay Euro scarf” crush. Obviously multi-stranded knitted yarn is nothing like woven cotton/linen, as proven by the one item of clothing I bought in France (a striped green and blue gay Euro scarf).

Speaking of which, I’m well-aware that I owe you many a post (or two) about Paris. My best intentions have been sidetracked by the joy that is RAVELRY. (Thanks, Jenny!) Ravelry-ing/Ravel-rizing/Ravellring gives me a sense of control over my stash and future knitting projects. I feel like my knitting is now my friend, not an obligation or a list of to-do’s and to-design’s. Trust me, it’s worth it; so sign up on the waiting list NOW!

Please pardon the interruption to my regularly scheduled sock knitting. In the meantime, enjoy some of C’s Paris photos.

Still in Paris, not writing much (obviously!).

However, Threadless.com, the T-shirt company I’ve posted about before, is having a summer sale until June 3. All shirts are $10, including this cute knitting one.

Our breakfast this morning, procured by my non-Frenchie manfriend. We still haven’t figured out the coffee situation. Any recommendations of French brands?

He went off to take some exquisite photos around the neighborhood this morning as I researched running routes. Found a great run, but didn’t make it out yet (à demain, la promenade plantee).

For Mr. Man’s photo fans, I’m not letting him post his pictures, for fear of him loading up my computer with gigs of gigantor files! You’re just going to have to deal with my cameraphone for now. Our delightful friend and fellow synchronaut just flew in this morning, so we’ve got to take him to his apartment around the corner. A bientôt!

Made it to Paris yesterday, after what felt like an entire day of flying. Good thing Mr. Man called to confirm our flights at 10pm the night before the 8am departure. It had been cancelled. They had been trying to contact me for months, but were using a wrong telephone number, nevermind that they have the correct phone number and email address in my Mileage Plus account.

Luckily, they were still able to get us to Philadelphia (where I finished the second of my ugliest socks ever) for the flight to Paris, but with a lay-over in Chicago. Oh, did I mention the new flight was at 6:15am in San Francisco? They rearranged our flights home, making it one flight less and arriving 3 hours earlier (but still not early enough to pick up Janie from Pet Camp on Saturday).

Thanks to cashed-in miles, we were flying business class on all flights. It was my first time flying non-freight internationally, and I highly recommend it. They feed you non-stop and there’s plenty of room in the wide chairs (which you need from all the food and wine). One of the flight attendants out of Philly recognized me from my college year, some 13 years ago. He was a student at Temple while I was at Penn. (It’s a small gay activist town.) Thanks to him, we walked off the plane with an unopened bottle of wine and a whole bunch of little vodkas and gins. (Scout, I need to learn the word for pomegranate to raise a glass to you and use ’em up!)

We landed in Paris at 7am, having barely slept myself. It was nice to finally see Pan’s Labyrinth and Stranger than Fiction, but I certainly paid for it as I was in a daze all day. We made our way in the rain to our rented apartment in the Marais. I barely conversed in French with Fanny (French isn’t her mother tongue either!) and we signed the contract and handed over our Euros and we were “home” by 10am.

We wandered around the neighborhood (I promise better descriptions) and had an adequate meal at a cafe before I passed out on the couch at 7. Therefore, I was up by 3am and forced myself to listen to tourism podcasts and not get out of bed until 6. I read up in the Rough Guide, as this trip has been completely unplanned—I’m going to decide on what I’m doing as we go.

Our first swimming commitment is Wednesday, with practices on Thurday and Friday morning, with competition on Saturday and Sunday. That leaves today and tomorrow for wandering, shopping and drinking in the beauty that is this city. Then, another week to try to see as much as we can.

Here’s what you missed, Mel and Isela.

Both watershow performances went off without a hitch. My synchro team is ready to go kick some Parisian butt next week. But before, I head off to start an international conflict, I want to thank some wonderful peeps for coming to see me practically naked:

• Ernie, Min Jung and Cindy—you guys came on such short notice and made my Wed. night!
• Jenny and Harold (2/3rd’s of Stash and Burn, my favorite knitting podcast)—we will hang out in June
• Susan, of Crystal Palace Yarns and her husband (who’ve heard of us for years, but never had the chance to see us wet in person)—I can’t wait to try the new sock yarns!
• Annie, a lovely friend and next-door neighbor who also attended last year
• Fabulous co-workers, spouse, child and former Stanford Synchro teammates thereof: Allison, Dylan, Marilee, Mars, Stephanie, Rachel—be kind when you tell stories about this at the office
• and, of course, Mr. Man, whose photo you see here.

It’s a joy to have people see what I spend hours preparing for at the pool. For my many local friends who didn’t hear about this, I apologize for not being on top of it. The SF show almost didn’t go off because of pool closure and my work life has been so filled with work, not leaving much time for emails to y’all. There will be another show in the late summer/early fall before Nationals in Tuscon… and I’ll be doing a solo at that one. I’m really, really sorry for not letting people know about this personally.

Hey, Paris Aquatique! We’re gonna get Namaste on your ass at IGLA.

Speaking of which, I’m all ears if you have any Paris suggestions for food, wine, yarn, art, running, more food, shopping, urban exploring and stuff. I’ll even visit your friends, if you know people there…

My swim team is having two performances before we head to compete in Paris at the end of the month.

If you’re in San Francisco or the Bay Area this week, come on by!

• 8:00 pm, Wed. May 9, 2007 – Martin Luther King Pool, 5701 Third Street, SF, CA
• 6:00 pm, Sat. May 12, 2007 – Mills College Pool, 5000 MacArthur, Oakland, CA

It’s a sliding scale of $5-20, to benefit the team and help cover pool rental and coaching costs.

(Pardon the reposted photo of Knucks made for my coach.)

I’m sorry.

I’m curled up in an intellectual fetal ball, hiding from my Internet responsibilities of writing about so many wonderful things (BMFA sock camp with my Mom, Scout’s Indie Swag first shipment, my finished Monsoons, Ravelry—see, I’m so busy I don’t even link anything!). I’ve also been a terrible friend, not replying to emails, or calling or letting people know I’m drowning in work stress and unable to get back to them. (Not a cry for help or pity.)

To make matters worse, I don’t foresee a break to this silence for at least another month. It’s two weeks before a two-week vacation to France, doubling as a synchronized swimming competition. As a gesture of apology, I’m handing you this sunny, candy-coated clip from a French movie (not set in Paris), starring a 24 year-old Catherine Deneuve with a small role (and lots of dancing) by Gene Kelly.

Les Desmoiselles de Rochefort (1967).
If only my life had this much song and free-wheeling spirit! More to come…

In lieu of composing my own travelogue, I bring you something from my favorite t-shirt site:

I’m trying to distract you with sheep graphics so you don’t notice my lack ‘o writing.

An update on my whereabouts and the past week’s activities will have to wait a few more days. While I had planned on writing an account of recent adventures, I hadn’t planned on spending 4+ hours in the emergency room tonight.

What we have here is an example of the dangers of synchronized swimming. My front tooth punctured my lower lip (entering and exiting) against the shin of a teammate. So far, the highlight of my 34th year…