Alan's CERN Journal: Week 39, Persian Food, French City

56 kB - 05 Oct 2004 20:32

Reza gives an under-the-table thumbs-up. What does that mean? Why would you do that?

68 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:12

Reza, his parents, Marco, and Pascale on the far right sit around the table at our apartment glowing with fullness. And look who's still eating... that's why Reza is so dense, he can pack it in.

51 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:29

Pascale loves to get her picture taken, can't you tell. Moments later I'm certain she was asking me show her the picture. She's got a serious crush on herself.

56 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:36

Marco, the birthday boy, fends off would-be cake snatchers.

58 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:37

Marco cuts his cake, note the backwards knife. It's some sort of Lebonese "tradition" that I'm assuming came into being when Pascale misstakenly wielded the knife backwards on a birthday not long ago and she is still trying to cover her ass. She's good at that.

50 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:38

The only thing more fun than cutting a cake is eating it... that and about a million other things that I won't bother to name, but still, cutting a cake can be fun. At least that's what I'm told.

57 kB - 05 Oct 2004 23:16

"Blackmail" is such a harsh word, let's just say this picture might play a critical role in "the profitable liberation of truth." I could be a liberator, just like W!

Medeski, Martin, and Wood in Lyon

Saturday Joe and I swung by the French side the Geneva airport to pick up a rented car. I had gone for the minimum necessary for hauling three of us an hour and a half away. Our compact class car was a Twingo, a car so diminuatively named I have a hard time imagining they could sell a single one in the US, even to those hip and open minded city folk. The back looked a bit cramped, but for three it would due. I never got a chance to try the ride back there, since I had to do all the driving. (Joe's so young he couldn't rent a car in any situation.)

We weren't ready to leave immediately so we took the car back to the apartment and lingered a bit. Jeremy had already left for CERN when I dragged myself out of bed. Reid was chilling at Zhengguo's place where he has been staying until Jeremy flys back to Ann Arbor and vacates his room. He was informed of our plan to leave around 2pm and our drive began wwith familar jaunt town the valley to Bellegarde.

A fan of rivers in gorges and large quantities of hilliness, I quiet like Bellegarde. We missed the turn necessary to hop immediately onto the toll motorway there in Bellegarde, but I think it was a quite lucky thing. Following signs to Lyon we found signs

56 kB - 05 Oct 2004 20:32 Reza gives an under-the-table thumbs-up. What does that mean? Why would you do that?	68 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:12 Reza, his parents, Marco, and Pascale on the far right sit around the table at our apartment glowing with fullness. And look who's still eating... that's why Reza is so dense, he can pack it in.
51 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:29 Pascale loves to get her picture taken, can't you tell. Moments later I'm certain she was asking me show her the picture. She's got a serious crush on herself.	56 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:36 Marco, the birthday boy, fends off would-be cake snatchers.
58 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:37 Marco cuts his cake, note the backwards knife. It's some sort of Lebonese "tradition" that I'm assuming came into being when Pascale misstakenly wielded the knife backwards on a birthday not long ago and she is still trying to cover her ass. She's good at that.	50 kB - 05 Oct 2004 21:38 The only thing more fun than cutting a cake is eating it... that and about a million other things that I won't bother to name, but still, cutting a cake can be fun. At least that's what I'm told.
57 kB - 05 Oct 2004 23:16 "Blackmail" is such a harsh word, let's just say this picture might play a critical role in "the profitable liberation of truth." I could be a liberator, just like W!

Persian Food, French City

Week 39

Marco's "Birthday" Dinner

Medeski, Martin, and Wood in Lyon