Gosh, yesterday was sort of a whirlwind after I got back from Europia. There was still a shizzton of work to catch up on, plus some personal bidness to address, so I was totes running on empty by the time I went to bed at 12:00 AM EDT (which was 6:00 AM CET). Happily, though, I think I’ve snapped back to the right time zone and stuff. Werk.
Last night at dinner I was recapping for busy daddy some of my Europian adventures over the past 10 days or so, and he was all, “Yeah, I know. I read your blog.” And I was all, Well, did you know that I had some of the best Japanese eats and macarons in Paris? Or that I got caught in a crazy rainstorm in Madrid, and had to toss my shoes and buy a new pair at the airport? Or that according to FitBit I walked more than 57 miles during my trip? And busy daddy was all, “How would I know that? You didn’t post anything about that shizz.” And I was all, Exactly.
It’s funny to me how family and friends (and other assorted and sundry peeps) think they know what’s going on with me based on what I write on Lazy Dad’s Guide. Since it’s just us Squirrel Friends, I’ll let you in on a secret: lots more happens in my day-to-day, more than I have either the bandwidth or desire to write about here.
In fact, the carefully manipulated crafted narrative of LDGTE tells just a fraction of what’s going on at any given time. Really, I wasn’t even in Europe this week! Everypony knows that outside of Canada, my company’s main office is in Bismarck, North Dakota, where the public transportation system is called Le Metro and the eats there are totes amazeballs! I’m kidding! The eats in Bismarck are blech, obvs. No offense, Bismarck, North Dakota.

Gosh, yesterday was sort of a whirlwind after I got back from Europia. There was still a shizzton of work to catch up on, plus some personal bidness to address, so I was totes running on empty by the time I went to bed at 12:00 AM EDT (which was 6:00 AM CET). Happily, though, I think I’ve snapped back to the right time zone and stuff. Werk.

Last night at dinner I was recapping for busy daddy some of my Europian adventures over the past 10 days or so, and he was all, “Yeah, I know. I read your blog.” And I was all, Well, did you know that I had some of the best Japanese eats and macarons in Paris? Or that I got caught in a crazy rainstorm in Madrid, and had to toss my shoes and buy a new pair at the airport? Or that according to FitBit I walked more than 57 miles during my trip? And busy daddy was all, “How would I know that? You didn’t post anything about that shizz.” And I was all, Exactly.

It’s funny to me how family and friends (and other assorted and sundry peeps) think they know what’s going on with me based on what I write on Lazy Dad’s Guide. Since it’s just us Squirrel Friends, I’ll let you in on a secret: lots more happens in my day-to-day, more than I have either the bandwidth or desire to write about here.

In fact, the carefully manipulated crafted narrative of LDGTE tells just a fraction of what’s going on at any given time. Really, I wasn’t even in Europe this week! Everypony knows that outside of Canada, my company’s main office is in Bismarck, North Dakota, where the public transportation system is called Le Metro and the eats there are totes amazeballs! I’m kidding! The eats in Bismarck are blech, obvs. No offense, Bismarck, North Dakota.

I’m at the Charles de Gaulle Airport waiting to board my flight home. Honestly, as much as I’ve really enjoyed Europia and am glad that I had the chance to connect with my global busy business lady colleagues, I’m so ready to go home.

I often wonder how I ended up where I ended up in my life, and as much as I’d like to believe that I’ve carefully calculated each decision that I’ve made to get me here, the truth is that chance and circumstance have a way of interfering. You never know how life is going to unfold, amirite?

I’ve come to the conclusion that most peeps make terrible decisions, often based on emotion instead of reason. In the end, purely emotional decisions will end up biting you in the ass. True story. 

While I’ve made my fair share of terrible decisions in my life, this much I know that I got absolutely right: it is impossible for me to conceive of my life without busy daddy and the boy. As much as I wonder if I will ever again have the extra space in my heart for anyone else, I know that my love for busy daddy and our son is infinite. There is nothing we can’t do when we’re together. 

Plus, don’t fuck with me or my family, world. Because I will cut you.

I’m at the Charles de Gaulle Airport waiting to board my flight home. Honestly, as much as I’ve really enjoyed Europia and am glad that I had the chance to connect with my global busy business lady colleagues, I’m so ready to go home.

I often wonder how I ended up where I ended up in my life, and as much as I’d like to believe that I’ve carefully calculated each decision that I’ve made to get me here, the truth is that chance and circumstance have a way of interfering. You never know how life is going to unfold, amirite?

I’ve come to the conclusion that most peeps make terrible decisions, often based on emotion instead of reason. In the end, purely emotional decisions will end up biting you in the ass. True story.

While I’ve made my fair share of terrible decisions in my life, this much I know that I got absolutely right: it is impossible for me to conceive of my life without busy daddy and the boy. As much as I wonder if I will ever again have the extra space in my heart for anyone else, I know that my love for busy daddy and our son is infinite. There is nothing we can’t do when we’re together.

Plus, don’t fuck with me or my family, world. Because I will cut you.

It’s the law in France to have these stickers on all bottles of wine to discourage women from drinking wine while pregnant. Apparently it was a huge controversy when the law was passed because French ladies were all, “It’s my hot bod, I’ll do what I want!!!”
The French can be so subversive-slash-existential and stuff.

It’s the law in France to have these stickers on all bottles of wine to discourage women from drinking wine while pregnant. Apparently it was a huge controversy when the law was passed because French ladies were all, “It’s my hot bod, I’ll do what I want!!!”

The French can be so subversive-slash-existential and stuff.

You know how peeps are always like, “Ooh, Gay Par-ee!!! So purty and stuff!!!” In my admittedly limited exposure to the City of Lights, I can say that Paris is, in fact, gorgeous. But it’s gorgeous in the way that someponies think New York City is gorgeous. In fact, the part of Paris where I’ve been staying and working reminds me a bit of Brooklyn. That is, if Brooklyn was comprised exclusively of Cobble Hill, Boerum Hill and Prospect Park.

Still, even though I intellectually understand that I should be in lurve with Paris, we just sorta have a non-commital thang going on. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in frackin’ Paris for Christ’s sake! And it’s gorgeous! And the eats are amazeballs!!! But I can’t help but compare my experience in Paris with my experiences in Milano.

For all of Milano’s weirdness (and the city is totes weird), I’m basically in love with Milano. Like, I could totes live in Milano. Like, I want to hang in Milano and eat gelato and go shopping All Day Long. While Madrid (or the parts that I saw) were awight, like a Northern California dude who’s chillaxed but has kind of a dark side, the place doesn’t really do it for me. And Paris is sort of like that very handsome, well-kept gentleman who knows four languages, but rolls his eyes at everything that you say.

Milano, though, is like the artsy-fartsy guy who has a beard and a potbelly from eating too much pasta, but also has a heart of gold and has really great taste in, like, everything. Yeah, I’ll take that guy.

Somepony asked me where I took this week’s mercredi moustache pic, so I thought I’d share. I was standing at the top level at my company’s Paris office, which is built in a former zeppelin factory. The space is enormous and filled with tons of natural light. I’m pretty sure I would be driven to distraction if I worked here every single day, but it’s really nice to visit.

Somepony asked me where I took this week’s mercredi moustache pic, so I thought I’d share. I was standing at the top level at my company’s Paris office, which is built in a former zeppelin factory. The space is enormous and filled with tons of natural light. I’m pretty sure I would be driven to distraction if I worked here every single day, but it’s really nice to visit.