Saturday, October 1, 2011

Brosh Hashanah

WARNING: I just ate some Petits Écoliers that have been sitting out for a few days (weeks?), so I may die before I finish this post. If I don't, now you know what I eat on days that start with S.

I'm writing to wish everyone--everyone--a happy Rosh Hashanah! It is now the year 5772. Finally! I know we've all been eagerly awaiting the big 5-7-7-2. Now that it is upon us, how should we celebrate? Spend $57.72 on wine for the weekend? Lose a game of basketball by a margin of fifteen? Count to 5772?

Maybe I should get a tattoo on the back of my neck--the nuque--that reads 5772 in some cool French font. Which brings me to my next point: the curious phenomenon that is the tattoo that tons of French girls have on their nuque, which I will now call the nape-tat. Usually, the nape-tat is hidden behind flowing locks of cheveux or just barely visible above a jean jacket. (Is that French?, you ask. Prepare to get your mind rocked by Nîmes.) But in these last two weeks of unseasonable heat, Bordeaux's co-eds, boy it feels weird using that word, can't help but show the world their nape-tats. A common thing to get nape-tatted is a circle that looks as much like the Zia sun symbol as a huge target that practically screams "AIM FOR MY NAPE-TAT!" The question is, why? Whence this urge for a nape-tat, mademoiselles? You are all so beautiful, even without the endless cosmetics products that have weird pseudo-scientific names like Bio-Face. Why would you want so banal an engraving on your perfect porcelain peau?

Anyway, I'm seeing a lot of these nape-tats. (I just said "nape-tat" out loud to see if it was as fun to speak as to write. It was.) They're making it hard to pay attention while my linguistics professor repeats the phrase "en genre et en nombre" ad nauseam. Another note about this prof: he has worn the same shirt for the last two weeks. What is he hiding? Probably a nape-tat.

I have to go arm-wrestle a corkscrew. Shana Tovah!

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