It's that time of the month again...

I hope this finds everyone in good health and good spirits (preferably Absente). Predictably, I have failed to find a job in France, and given that just breathing here exceeds my daily budget, it appears that it's time to pack up my crap and head east to the land of promise and cheap vodka. Try and find a difference there, I dare you. So, the good news is, I'll be in Eastern Europe.

As for the my time here in France, well... Let's just say that I came across a unique and timely opportunity to spend some time with nice French family in a little French village. I realize that this probably conjures up pictures of vineyards and chateux, of sweaty afternoons smashing grapes and lazy evenings sipping wine over miraculous sunsets, of wearing white and black striped shirts and bicycling down to the pattiserie to pick up baguettes, but this isn't exactly the case. This is a planned French villiage, a sort of socialist scheme to mask poverty and wealth by basically building a bunch of prefabricated housing and selling them according to income. Now the only things seperating Pierre de Luc and Jean le Bouffon are concealed behind frilly lace and stained rayon, respectively.

That's not to say this place isn't nice, mind you.

In the interim, Morgane and I managed a nice little road trip out to Finesterre (the end of the world), where we relaxed at Le Cap de la Chevre (The Cape of the Goat). This is real Breton, folks. Out there, everyone smells and no one shaves. (Contrary to popular belief, that is not typical of France in general). Needless to say, it was primarily an olfactory experience.

Anyway, my job hunt is going to take me next to Elblag (pardon me), Poland, a port city up on the Black Sea. If that works out, great. If not, well, I'm sure there are plenty of opportunities in the Czech Republic for a young, well-educated, bright-eyed American boy. Right?

Right?

Anyway, summer is peeping it's melanoma-encrusted scalp over the horizon, so if anyone wants to fly out to Eastern Europe, drink Absente, and sneak around some old pawnbrokers' flats, let me know. I'm up for anything!