MULA A PARIS, HANG GARE DU NORD...

Bon jour et bonne annee, Paris! Je suis Lame Avocat / Diplomat Dorque. Enchante. Ca va. You betcha.

Oui, the LLDD-Hyphen-L and I were able to visit the City of Lights to open the new year, and it was incroyable. Paris instantly and effortlessly won us over, one of the few cities that exceeded the hype. We didn't venture far from the touristy path since this was just our first time here, and because I never got past module onze at Alliance Francaise (still, better than most of those yuppies/hipsters/artsy fartsies who quit after two classes when they realize learning French is, you know, hard). Anyway, the city was beautiful enough to speak for itself in pictures, so voila.

(that's French for "for first timers pretty much have to do the following things listed below")

GET DRAWN INTO THE EIFFEL TOWER'S TRACTOR BEAM

There's just no escaping its attraction from anywhere, kinda like the Death Star. The tower zoomed to the top of my all-time favorite landmarks list because not only is it impossible to not take a beautiful picture of it, it's impossible to not take a beautiful picture from it (unlike the Statue of Liberty or the Washington Monument). Plus it sparkles and has a cinema, restaurant and skating rink inside. Again, just like the Death Star.

C'est la vie? When you're up the Eiffel Tower, and you're of my generation, there's really only one thing you have to do, isn't there? That's right, you channel Duran Duran. (God, I thought Roger Taylor's chair was so cool back then)

GO UP THE ARC

The Arc de Triomphe is aussi one of those landmarks that's gorgeous to look at and awesome to view from (my English teacher Mom will have a fit deconstructing that last sentence. eh.) Fun fact I learned: back in the day, stunt pilots use to freakin' fly biplanes through the arc! Again, the parallels with X-wing fighters flying through the Death Star trench are just partout.

C'est la vie? Before ascending the arc, however, I would strongly advise you to check if there is a working elevator. I didn't, and heard about it from the LLDD-Hyphen-L every trois cent plus step of the way.

YOU'VE ONLY GOT ONE CHAMPS

Shops, cafes, lights -- strolling along the Champs Elysees is the quintessential Paris tourist experience, je suppose. And locals will immediately know you're a tourist if, like us, you make the mistake of starting off from the bottom of the boulevard and walk the whole damn thing uphill. Desole about that, LLDD-Hyphen-L. Mon bad.

C'est la vie? If there's one place you can show off to other tourists who ask you to take their "picture picture" that you know how to count "Une, Deux, Trois" before clicking, this would be it.

CHEER CHEER FOR OLD NOTRE DAME

The LLDD-Hyphen-L and I were fortunate enough to hear mass at Notre Dame cathedral. A dramatic a place as any - especially when the bells or the organ are playing - you can't help but gaze up and hum "The Phaaaaaaaantom of the Operaaaaaa is heeeeerrrreee...."

(I've melange'd my literary references again, haven't I?)

C'est la vie? Dudes, if you ever want to earn massive pogi-points with you're waswit, don't forget to bring a padlock to Notre Dame! Trust me on this! Apparently lovers in Paris often latch a lock onto a bridge and throw the key into the Seine as a sign of undying love, and the bridge right behind the cathedral appears to be ground zero for the practice. Je n'ai jamais entendu about these "love padlocks" before and, well, I'm currently down dix mille pogi-points in the LLDD-Hyphen-L's estimation.

FALL IN LOUVRE

Because of long lines and a shortage of time, the LLDD-Hyphen-L and I only got to the outside of the museum. Still, it's a great spot for "picture picture" and arguing whether you "get" that pyramid in the middle.

C'est la vie? What the...? The resting place of the sacred feminine is a mall?!? Then why didn't any of the salons there do anything about Tom Hanks' mullet-perm!?!

CLIMB EVERY MONTMATRE

Montmatre is home to Sacre Coeur basilica and a quaint village-type neighbourhood that had lots of nice artists' shops and French restaurants (where enfin I got to use up my supply of "...or as they call it here, food / fries / toast / onion soup" jokes)

C'est la vie? Montmatre is on top a hill and has I would say a 170-degree panoramic view of Paris. The missing 10 degrees? The view of the Eiffel Tower. Oh well, at least the burlesque places like the Moulin Rouge were right at the bottom of the hill (um, not that I noticed LLDD-Hyphen-L. I was looking for padlocks, I swear!)

GO ON A TOUR BUS, TAKE PICTURES OF THE CITY AT FUNKY ANGLES, CALL YOURSELF AN ARTISTE

Oh non you didn't...Oh oui I did just get pretentious with my photography!

C'est la vi...oh what the heck, let's run wild with the drama and take everything in noir et le blanc

You're damn right I just went all moody and introspective on your derrieres! Frequent Eat Bulaga guest Leah Navarro, play us out!

Je t'aime, te amo, I love you

Watashi wa anata o aistomasu

Ich liebe dich, iniibig kita

a Paris....

THE TWELVE DAYS OF DFA POSTS AND OFFICES CHRISTMAS GREETINGS

I had so much with this last year, I thought I'd do it again. Everybody now, and a one and a two and a . . .

On the First Day of Christmas, Vancouver PCG gave to me,

A Prom King and a Prom Queen . . .

On the Second Day of Christmas, Pampanga RCO gave to me,

Two Versions of the Same Card . . .

On the Third Day of Christmas, Madrid PE gave to me,

Three "What the..." Glee-like Poses . . .

On the Fourth Day of Christmas, Lucena RCO gave to me,

(Region) IV na landscape . . .

On the Fifth Day of Christmas, New York PCG gave to me,

The Fiiiiiiiiiiffffftthhhhh Avenue (Parol Project, that is) . . .

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, Moscow PE gave to me,

Six Babushka Dolls . . .

On the Seventh Day of Christmas. Lisbon PE gave to me,

Seven on a (reaaaalllly long) Staircase

On the Eighth Day of Christmas, the Coord Center gave to me,

Eight Signatures fo' cash, 'yo . . .

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, Helsinki PE gave to me,

Nine Pinoy Popsicles . . .

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, Public Info Services gave to me,

Ten Op-ed Writers . . .

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, Oslo PE gave to me,

Eleven Giant Winter Athletes (who are going to trample everyone underneath them! Run, people, RUN!) . . .

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Yangon PE gave to me,

(Um. Wow. Just...wow) . . .

. . . and,

Eleven Giant Winter Athletes (who are going to trample everyone beneath them! Run, people, RUN!)

Ten Op-ed Writers

Nine Pinoy Popsicles

Eight Signatures fo' cash, 'yo

Seven on a (reaaaalllly long) Staircase

Six Babushka Dolls

The Fiiiiiiiiiiffffftthhhhh Avenue (Parol Project, that is)

(Region) IV na landscape

Three "What the.." Glee-like poses

Two Versions of the Same Card

A Prom Kiiiiiiiing and a Prom Queeeeeeeeeeeen!!!!

Good show, good show! But where's London PE in all this? Well, stiff British upper lip and all that. We don't just irreverently join in any reindeer games. We're all about dignity and poise . . .

. . . and putting our faces faces on Christmas balls. Classy!

Maligayang Pasko at Maligo sa Bagong Taon!!!

THAT'S JUST HOW WE BOWL

Another weekend, another request to deliver "inspirational remarks." This time, we're at the Christmas party of a large FilCom Bowling association. I believe my speech went well enough, but I suppose that was all but guaranteed by the formidable number of bowling-related puns in my arsenal. The best one: lovingly referring to a pregnant lady as carrying "her own little bowling ball." The worst: making any "7-10" split metaphor. Just don't go there.

But what's this? People were not in fact rapturously applauding my speech, but rather the party's entertainment numbers? Who were these performers who had everyone (ahem) bowled over?

A musician who massaged the hell out of his guitar....

....and a re-telling of the club's history -- in old-school lakandiwang dula format.

I see. Those were freaking awesome, actually. Compared to the bowling club's entertainers, I wasn't such an "inspiration" after all. If anything, I caused everyone some des-(ahemmmmm ahemmmmm cough cough cough a-HEMMMMMMMM!)-spare.

THAT'S JUST HOW WE PAROL

The good people at Philippine Generations -- the big Fil-Brit youth organization I'm designated by the Embassy as liaison because, you know, I'm sooo youth -- came up with another fantastic event: a parol making workshop to usher in the Christmas season! In my welcome remarks, I mentioned how activities like these were great because they could make you feel like a carefree kid again.

HA! If only everyone knew of the painful childhood memories I had of crying during grade school WorkEd classes because I was one of those kids who was never good with his hands and couldn't make that goddam macramé spice rack to save his life. KAYA NGA NAGING ABOGADO EH!!!

Kidding aside, all that angst is still buried deep inside and will manifest later on is long gone and forgotten, and the workshop was genuine fun. Still, motor skills do not magically appear overnight (despite my letters to Santa), so my own parol's progression was slow, to say the least. The hardest part by far was getting the bamboo joints to stay in place. I was told by the traditionalist instructors present to never use any form of adhesive, and that everything could properly be held together by string, knots and good ol' concentration. With that sage advice, I was indeed able to complete the frame -- by using masking tape and begging one youth's mom to finish it for me.

And even with all that help, my parol still wasn't finished by the time the (five-hour) workshop ended, and was looking, ahem, a little asymmetrical. I just told everyone I was really going for the minimalist/abstract/impressionist/ironic look. (I was. I WAS!) Anyway, all the kids at the workshop were handed the same type of kit as I was, and we were all under the same time constraints, so it's not like anyone could come up with anything that beautiful or artistic...could they?

(....must...suppress...childhood...angst...memories...must)

THAT'S JUST HOW I ROLL

So I finally got the nerve to buy a used car and try driving around London. I thought a year of using pedestrian crossings painted with "Look Left (you idiot)" and "Look Right (you moron)" was enough training and conditioning for me to handle the whole driving-on-the-other-side-of-the-street thing. And you know what? It was. Right-hand steering is not as hard to get used to as I thought (although when getting in I sometimes still walk up to the passenger's side of the car; I just tell the LLDD-Hyphen-L I'm being a gentleman opening her door; she has yet to buy it).

You know what is fracking hard? Goddam roundabouts!! And goddam right turns!! I swear on Clark Griswold, I've gone miles out of my way because I can't properly time my lane crossovers without the help of stoplights. (made harder by the tears in my eyes from all the stressed-out crying)

Baby steps, baby steps. I am getting some experience under my belt making short trips around the neighborhood, going to grocery stores, and even travelling to the Embassy in central London on occasion. I even mustered enough courage to plan a trip with the LLDD-Hyphen-L to the beautiful English outlet stores countryside last weekend. When I woke up that morning, I went to the mirror, slapped myself in the face a few times, yelled "It's go time, fool!!", dressed with the same sense of purpose as a Rambo-gearing-up scene, stomped downstairs, kicked open the front door, and faced. . .

awwww...nag i-snow. That means the roads are all slippery, right? There's no sense in driving now...or until the end of winter next year, is there? No roundabout no cry, momma used to always say.

THAT'S JUST HOW WE ROLL

[ed. note: For reasons that will be clear in a couple of months, I'm too busy/tired/lazy to do much on this site. So I'm now shifting to a shorter-more frequent-less coherent posting style. Because that's how I roll]

______________

"Friends", I got your back! You and the Trade Office came into London this month and big-upped the Philippines (excuse me, PHL) at the great Philippine Tourism Investment Forum and at the World Travel Mart, and both events were huge successes -- not the least because of the sweeeeet ride you arranged for delegates to be rollin' all 'round London in

Vintage Routemaster buses tricked-out with big-ass "Philippines" on the side? Hells yeah.