Pink Trash Travels

Friday's Random Thoughts

I'm prepping for our trip to Oktoberfest tomorrow. With the eventual goal of writing about the weekend from the perspective of a non-drinker surrounded by clanging beer steins, I hope to capture the essence of the annual celebration (as well as Instinct Magazine's acceptance for publication). I finally have up and running again. So, you no longer have to remember the "blogspot." I'd like the entry page to be interactive, but I'm not quite up-to-speed on Flash. That will have to wait a bit longer. Xavier may be moving to the states. So, we'll be down one less friend in Paris. We're happy for him but sad for us. I've been fighting so long with the landlord of the building about replacing the carpet in the hallway that I had almost succumb to dastardly deeds to get my way. I either was going to pull the carpet up my self or pour bleach down the stairs - attributing both to vandalism. But, as My Name is Earl communicates, "Karma is a bitch." With all the business we sent La Compagnie De Provence this week (with Kerry, Lisa and Elizabeth all stocking up on their great smelling soaps), they should give us a kick-back. My flowers in the window boxes have all but stopped growing. Rather, they continue to drop leaves at an unsightly pace. By now, I had hoped for them to be glorious and full of blooms. Instead, they look like sticks. That's what I get for trying to be Parisian and grow Geraniums outside my windows. Since I have to wake-up at 6 for an 8:00 a.m. flight, I'm off to bed. Bon week-end!

Directeur de Maison

When Kris and I were talking the other night about our finances, we once again confirmed we're saving more money now than when we lived in Chicago. With a combination of our investments and our spending habits here in Paris, we're able to put away a nice "chunk of change." Which, I admit, is odd considering I don't work - in the traditional sense anyway. I'm no longer a VP of Marketing but rather a House Manager, or Directeur de Maison. Which, after reviewing our finances, is actually a paying job. "We're paying me not to work," I said. "And, in some cases, we're paying me to be bored!" Funny how life works.

Have U Heard?

Paris invaded Oktoberfest this week to promote a new canned sparkling wine, "Rich Prosseco." She arrived in traditional Dirndl clothing - except with a few alterations to display her goodies. Is this girl EVERYWHERE? Jeez.

Robbie Williams admitted to MTV UK that Rudebox, the first single from his upcoming CD, is his favorite of all his tunes (though the general public has mixed feelings about the song). He also declares that one song, currently sitting a top the U.S. charts, is what's tickles his fancy. "I downloaded Justin’s song ‘SexyBack’ and play it before I get on stage in the evenings on this tour,” he confessed.

Catherine Zeta joins was ripped by UK press this week for wearing the same little black dress for dinner at the Wolseley restaurant in Piccadilly in London on Sunday night as well as on Monday night at Lebanese restaurant Fakhreldine. When you're traveling, you sometimes have to duplicate!

Eddie Murphy has professed his love for former Spice Girl Mel B. He has, however, denied any intentions of marriage. He might want to reconsider since both of their careers have somewhat stalled.

Kate Beckinsale, in Berlin for the promotion of her latest film Click, was caught by a windraft exposing her midriff. As a result, her glamorous gown quickly turned into what appears to be a trash bag.

The Scissor Sisters top both the UK album and singles charts this week. The disco camp icons spend their third week at number one with the single, I Don't Feel Like Dancin' from the album Tah-Dah - just released stateside today. Elsewhere on the UK singles chart are The Killers with When You Were Young, ahead of Justin Timberlake's SexyBack, Nelly Furtado's Promiscuous and London Bridge by Fergie. Janet debuts with Call on Me at 18 and Checkin' It Out by Lil' Chris at 19.

Our New Favorite

Yesterday for lunch, Kerry and I ventured out for crepes. Unfortunately, the restaurant I had in mind was closed. So, considering it was a nice day, we settled for a bistro around the corner. As a result, Kerry swore off French food. Her butter soaked ravioli and sausage topped salad was too much for the New Yorker. With that in mind, we opted for an Saturday night Italian meal at La Madonnina - a restaurant that now sits atop our favorite destinations in Paris.

Hidden within the 10th arrondissement, the small, baroc styled eatery oozed friendliness (and, after walking 45 minutes in the rain, our soaked mugs welcomed a smiling face). The crowd was lively. An array of eclectic music enhanced the energetic ambience. Smoking was limited. Best of all, our meal was rich in flavor and full on conversation - especially surrounding what we called the "Cheese Tamborine."

When our server Melany placed the silver dish on our tabel, we were a bit unsure how to proceed. After lifting the lid and noticing the absence of a spoon, we debated using our own or devising another way to top our gnochi with grated parmesan. The stylings of a musical instrument won out. So, with a slight tilt to the front and a tap on the back, we played the container better than Laurie Partridge.

After retiring our "Cheese Tamborine" and finishing our meal, we expressed our delight to both Melany and her counterpart Giovani. Excellent rated food may be easy to find in Paris, but complimenting service is a bit more challenging. So when the two come together, it's something quite special - especially for this casserole lovin' gay boy from Kansas.

Have U Heard?

George Michael starts his first tour in 15 years Saturday in Barcelona. Hopefully this will keep him off the streets - literally. We don't need any more "sleeping" accidents.

MTV announced Justin Timberlake will be hosting the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards in Copenhagen November 2. Here are some of the nominations.

For her 2007 calendar, Kylie glams it up by wearing a collection of vertiginous stilettoes, outlandish costume pieces and thick, 1960's inspired make-up. And under the title of the calendar, Kylie: The Showgirl Princess, are the words: "A true fairy tale full of glitter, glamour and dreams." Atta girl.

Emma Thompson revealed she's undergone painful surgery to remove varicose veins from her legs. It's refreshing to know an actress can speak honestly about her body and not try to brush over weight loss and other issues by emphatically stating "they're just overworked."

Pop-star Anastacia is to wed her British bodyguard Wayne Newton, 38. Apparently, he told Anastacia he wanted to "protect her forever" and "couldn't imagine living without her" when he proposed on bended knee. Insert vomit here. No matter, congratulations to the former contestant of MTV's Star Search copycat The Cut.

Ring the alarm! Beyonce looks amazing at Armani's show during London's Fashion week. If only I had the same positive comments to say about her new single which crawls the charts to number 12. To me, it sounds like she's in pain on the record. Enough with the hip hop beats America. Support true pop - like the Scissor Sisters!


For a year now, I've been comparing all meals in Paris to one: my beef bourginon at Le Montebello. I had fond memories of the traditional French dish with its rich sauce, juicy beef, succulent potatoes and sweet carrots. Tonight, however, I discovered my gold standard of Parisian dining was now nothing more than a bland pot of kitchen leftovers.

My friend Kerry is in town from New York. So, based on an experience from last year, Chris and I thought returning to Le Montebello would be enjoyable. We were wrong - completely wrong. With crying babies to my right and obnoxious Australians to my left, my beef bourginon arrived sans resemblance of the stew I originally enjoyed last September. I was crushed.

For a moment, I thought my pallete might have changed - not the meal. But as I gazed into the ceramic pot in front of me, I realized it had indeed morphed into bland and unappealing cuisine. If anything, I can now move on from my beef bourginon to another meal by which all others will be compared. The falafel stand in the Marais perhaps?

Have U Heard?

According to David Beckham, he makes his 0 size wife Victoria eat on a regular basis. How could she say no to him? I wouldn't.

Miami Vice star has found himself in a bit of trouble. He's being investigated in a €2m bank fraud in Dublin. After finding out, I'm sure "he was looking for his Hearbeat."

Angelina Jolie has spent £200,000 on works by British guerrilla artist Banksy. Purchases included a white bust with a bleeding bullet hole in the forehead - the perfect piece for the guest bathroom.

Hugh Grant and his fiancée Jemima Khan look thrilled at the relaunch of Sixties label Biba at the British museum during London Fashion Week. I think they need a Slurpee.

Topshop announced today that Supermodel Kate Moss has signed a multi-million-pound deal with British retailer to design her own clothing range exclusively for the chain. Take note Whitney. You can make a comeback!

They're Multiplying

Fashion week is upon us. The streets are bustling with pretty boys and their perfect hair and skin. For some reason, I've never noticed the influx prior to other fashion weeks. But as I walked around Paris today gathering flowers for our arriving guests, I realized the models were multiplying around me. Mind you, I don't find them sexually attractive. Yet I can appreciate their youthful glow and stylish dress. Luckily, as I grow older, I'm less likely to have my confidence shattered by these pod people. Then again, I'm already second guessing what I'm now going to wear tomorrow for shopping with my friend Kerry. Ugh.

Have U Heard?

DJ Dailey's Mini Mix preview goes quiet this week to recognize Robbie William's new video Lovelight. The second single from his upcoming release Rudebox, slated now for October, is both understated and groovilicious. Check it out!

Looks like Kylie is ready for a comeback! Appearing just sixteen months after being diagnosed with breast cancer, she strutted her stuff in support of the Red Square concert held in London this past Saturday.

After being axed by the new England squad manager last month, David apparently called Tom Cruise for some advice. Since Tom was dumped last month by Paramount, David thought they had something in common. David, let us know if Suri is indeed an Alien baby - as the press continues to report.

In London for the premiere of You, Me and Dupree, Michael Douglas looks to be caught in a G-Force pattern caused by the moon's gravitational pull.

The new Scissor Sisters album hits stores this week. Check out their page for a stream of the entire album. Between the Scissor Sisters and Robbie's new music, I'm a giddy little school girl!

Weekend Recap

Even with Chris out of town this past weekend, my schedule didn't stray from the norm. Saturday gym. Shopping with Xavier. Dinner at a cafe. On Sunday, Xavier and I saw a movie - Thank You For Smoking. Knowing it would be a sweatfest inside, I wore shorts on a day when the temperature hovered just over 70. As I walked to the movie, I received more strange looks from the Parisians who were dressed as though winter had arrived. They gave me the look over, from head to toe, as they passed me in their scarves and overcoats. But unlike one year ago, now "I don't care." Let them stare. My summer wear was fashionable, with a bit of American flair. It's not as though I was dressed in a tank top and Daisy Dukes.

As for the movie, it was good Sunday fodder. My review may be skewed due to my attraction to Aaron Eckhart. And apparently I'm not the only one. As I googled his name to ensure a correct spelling, I stumbled across this "shirtless" website featuring Aaron as well as others without les chemises. PTT approves!

It's My Duty

As I noted a few days back, PTT most likely will find it's way to But in the meantime, I feel it's my duty to familiarize you with growing phenom by posting some of the funniest or intriguing videos I've found on the site. You'll see it's not all about blogging, but the sharing of entertainment. So, for all you Simpsons loving fans, take a look at this one. I'm amazed that somebody took the time to reconstruct the opening.

The GENIUS Award

I was talking with Paddy earlier today. He had never heard of How crazy is that? I was trying to explain to him the whole Lonelygirl15 phenom. In short, three guys found a creative outlet for their ingenuity. GENIUS!

Wednesday Night Outing

It was Xavier's birthday on Monday. Since he was busy with Jeff, his newfound American boyfriend in St. Tropez, we were unable to celebrate. So tonight I joined him and Stephan for a bite out to eat - and past 10 p.m.! Considering Chris and I are usually in our pajamas by 9:30, it was an unusual treat.

Tuesday's Random Thoughts

As Chris heads back to the States for work, I find it quiet in Paris. Though, I'm trying to meet Xavier and Stephan for dinner tomorrow night to celebrate X's birthday. It's 90 degrees here and I'm sweating. Thank God we didn't pack away the a/c unit for the bedroom. I'm on my weight gain program and according to the scales today, I've gained 4 pounds over the past five weeks. My goal is another 10 (off somewhat good weight). Then I'll trim off the unwanted fat (I hope). Maddie is feeling a bit under the weather. After a long walk tonight, she let rip a number two that resembled Niagara Falls. I was slightly embarrassed considering a group of people was walking close behind. I quickly listened to Justin's new CD today via iTunes. Sure, he's channeling Prince circa 1982. But from what I could hear, I prefer the N'SYNC days when his music had hooks and hum-along melody. I'm considering taking PTT to This way, you can see my new hair cut - which is getting good reviews. Apparently, it makes me look younger. I must have started looking more like White Trash than Pink Trash with the roots and over-processed dye job!

Instinct Magazine

I've been wanting to expand my writing credentials to include a national magazine. There's something to be said for the validation of your work. So I hunted down the editor of Instinct Magazine to pitch a few articles relating to Paris and our upcoming trip to Oktoberfest.

I selected Instinct Magazine based on their tone of voice - one that correlates nicely with mine. That, and being a gay magazine, they would be more apt to publish the Pink Trash Traveler's take on Ibiza, Berlin or Green Bean Casserole. The editor replied, and I quote, "I'd be very interested in reading any of the finished product for any of these pitches you've mentioned." Yeah for me.

Now, I'm contemplating the story angles for both Paris and the beerfest in Munich. The latter seems to write itself - considering I'll be nestled in a beer tent surrounded by booze hounds for hours. As for Paris, that's a bit more difficult. What would a 18-34 year old gay man in Indiana or Utah want to know about me and/or my life in Paris? So many thoughts, such little time.

Ellen's DJ Search Update

It's 4:00 a.m. in Paris and I can't sleep. As I'm searching the internet, I receive a call from my friend Lisa in Chicago. She's watching Ellen from earlier on Wednesday and low and behold, I'm included in a montage of DJ search entries! Before introducing the new DJ, Ellen said she received "thousands and thousands" of tapes. She then rolls the footage - and I'm second. "Bonjour Ellen!" I say. Apparently, she opted out of a long, drawn out search process a.k.a. The View (and as she originally stated last May). But that's okay. At least I know I made an impact!

I'm Free

For months, I’ve been debating whether to cut my hair. It all began last February when I asked Toni & Guy’s colorist for highlights and received a platinum wash that eventually turned sour. It continued this summer when I purchased barrettes to keep the loose strands out of my face while sleeping. But the final straw was our trip to Berlin when no hair product could tame my locks and my mother, after glancing at the blog, commented on the state of my hair affairs. So, with nervous energy, today I got it cut.

In short, I’m ecstatic. I used a photo of David Beckham for inspiration. And today, as I walked the streets of Paris, I no longer cared that the wind was blowing. I kept my glances in reflective windows to a minimum. I’m free at last.

A Perpetual Sweatfest

Last night, Xavier invited Chris and I to his company’s extravagant soirée in Baccarat’s grand ballroom. Xavier works for Chelsea Textiles, a fabric and accessories company based in London with offices in Paris and NY. He had been planning the event for more than six months so Chris and I wanted to show our support. What we didn’t want, however, was to exhibit the sweat dripping down our brow and other parts of our body. To my dismay, I’ve come to realize perspiring in France is unavoidable.

It started with the cab ride to the affair. With the weather turning unseasonably warm and I in a suit (the first since departing Chicago one year ago), beads of sweat started to collect on my forehead. I tried to quickly diffuse the problem by asking the cab driver, in French no less, to ignite the a/c. He replied by rolling down the windows. This was unacceptable for many reasons – first and foremost being the concern I had for my hair.

I have an appointment on Wednesday to cut my coif and return it to its’ original color. But until then, any direct contact with wind only aggravates the situation – essentially turning my head into a bird’s nest. So, fortunately, the driver heard me grumble and switched on the cooling system.

For fifteen minutes, we enjoyed a relatively pleasant cab ride. Our body temperatures settled to more normal levels. That was until we arrived at our destination and entered a ballroom decorated with beautiful fabrics, illuminated by crystal chandeliers and heated to 100 degrees by the blistering sun outdoors. “Oh my god,” I said. “This can’t be.” But it was. After all Xavier’s planning to ensure problems were limited, the ballroom was an oven.

For the next hour, Chris and I found ourselves between the main event and product showcase room next door where the a/c was working properly. We would strike a conversation with the many Brits who were in attendance, or the patient French who would talk slowly enough for us to understand, then grab a little cool air refreshment. Around 9:15, as I was being lectured by one Frenchman as to how I should speak better French, not eat so early, go out more often (and generally all around how I was too American), I felt a breeze from above. The a/c was working. And, as a result, it gave me reason to smile, escape the sermon, and find Chris, Xavier and our new friend Jeff from Washington D.C. to celebrate. Though I was now happier than before, after glancing in the mirror, it was too late. My hair had fallen. My face was glossy. I was a mess.

Being that Chris had to work the next day, we departed around 9:30 from a party that was ending at 10. We thanked Xavier for inviting us. We bid adieu to Jeff and others and worked our way down the spiral staircase to the exit – SWASS (sweaty ass) and all.

As we made our way home, I thought of the week ahead. It was to be extremely hot for the next few days. But with my expected new short doo on Wednesday, I dreamt it would alleviate some of my heat pain. Then again, it’s Paris. Short hair or long, summer or winter, movie theatre or grocery store, I’d sweat. I guess I’d better stock-up on deodorant.

The Bitch List

After our movie "sweatfest" the other night, I asked myself, "Why, at times, am I so bitter?" I quickly realized it was because of circumstances around me. Little annoyances build to an explosive release - with Chris being the recipient. So, to level my behavior and save our relationship, I've initiated the Bitch List. Starting with the first entry, it highlights those items that make me bitter - thus morphing me into a raging bitch. And I know I'm not alone. Send me your bitches and I'll add them to the list. I feel better. Wouldn't you?


Because I can't see a movie in a pleasant, temperature controlled environment. Instead, I sweat and it smells like dirty hair.

And submitted by Marty in Chicago:


Because a pinhead pulls into the "I-Pass only" lane without a pass or someone equally lamebrained pulls into the "coins only" lane without sufficient change.

Marty, I sympathize. We can read, why can't they?