After Jennie left I went a did 8 miles in the Bois de Boulogne. What Jennie was seeing in the shops I was seeing in person with my 4 trannies! What is funny, is that the French government is the true pimp of the system because, apparently, the trannies pay taxes so the government turns a blind eye - what is good business for the trannies, is good business for the government. (Maybe I should thank them as I run by for supporting the funding which keeps the trails in such great condition here?!). Yesterday this was proven to me as I was running along the road I saw a huge police brigade out (2 vans, 2 cars, and motorcycles) pulling people over for speeding. No more than 100' down the road, the trannies were there - business as usual. Infact, you could see them from your car seat as you were waiting for the cop to finish writing you your ticket...now that would piss me off!
My 8 miles went as follows:
7:15/7:22/7:23/7:21/7:26/7:19/7:29/7:05 min/mile
This morning I got up and went to my last pilates session until September (France takes all of July and August off, which includes my instructor). I am really bummed because since I started taking pilates 2x a week, my usual sore-bits from running have been drastically reduced (and most times now, non-existent). After my pilates class I was walking back to the metro and I noticed a hair salon that did not look busy yet. I looked at the price board to see that a haircut will cost 15 euros...perfect! My ears were still ringing a little from being called a chia-pet from my sister and brother-in-law so I finally decided to be brave and get my first haircut in France.
I went in, they whisked my upstairs where I was greeted by a young, stylish lad who proceeded to wash my hair. So far, so good. From there he took me into the hair salon where he introduced me to my hair stylist for the day (well, then - who the heck was the guy that just washed my hair?!). From there we had my usual broken-french conversation about my likes/dislikes/and my concerns regarding how he would carefully dishevel my hair. None of this mattered because he decided that my look was too "classic" (which was his broken-english way of saying "old"). He decided that I should by more "jeune" (young). Whatever, just get this beard off my neck - the back of my neck looks like Grizzly Adams.
After that, the guy that washed my hair returned and made sure I had coffee, chocolate and that the hair stylist had what he needed. I started to think to myself -wow, this is a really great deal for only 15 euros! Yes David, that would have been a great deal - but for 55 euros (~90 bucks) you definitely got ripped off. It makes sense - each stylist had their own assistant, middle of Paris, the treats, etc. But I tell you what - my usual haircuts in Houston, from the best place ever to get a hair cut (and cowboy shave) are that same but for 5 times less the price! (I miss you Matt - I was going to make an appt. for when I came through Houston. Unfortunately I think I had a bird nesting in my neck beard...I could not possible wait any longer!).
Feeling like I got ripped off again in another one of these "lost in translation" moments I decided to head out to the Bois de Boulogne for 6.5 miles easy. It went as follows:
7:20/7:19/7:16/7:21/7:19/7:16/7:00 (last 0.5) min/mile
Tomorrow I have 14 with a dash of threshold thrown in for good measure. Good times!
I am of to enjoy the evening and I am hoping that people notice my 90 dollar haircut!
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