The new sidewalk treasure...phlegm.

It's disgusting...I know. Again, as I walk to school...to anywhere really...not only do I have to step around merde, but also pet urine and phlegm spit. It boggles the mind why all of this must remain on the sidewalk. Who do these people think are going to clean up after them?

This past weekend, D and I went to Chamonix to watch the Ski World Cup. We wanted to see all the great Alpine skiers before they would compete in the Winter Olympics. Sadly, the race had to be cancelled due to fog on the track. Boo. But, visiting Chamonix was an adventure. It's a gorgeous ski town where 99% of the visitors and people who work in Chamonix speak English. We met a guy who was a graduate of UC Davis. We met a bartender who recently graduated from Stanford. And we met some guys who were from Seattle on a ski holiday. Americans were everywhere. As were the British.

While in Cham (the abbreviated term used by the locals...I'm pretending for the moment), D and I had lunch in a cafe and D wanted to me to practice my French and order the coffee. So, I said: "deux cafes si vous plait" and the server responded to me in English (!!!). Not fair.

Last night, on our way back from our supermarche, Carrefour, we drove down a street called: Rue 19 Aout 1944. The street name is a date (?!). Can you imagine your address being: 40, 18 Aout 1944? That has got to confuse the post office. I wonder if it's required for all residents on that particular street to obtain PO boxes.