Kings, Queens and Cheese

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Along time ago, in a far away land, called “France” people put little figurines in cakes and then had a party.

This is basically all you need to know.  There is some other stuff, but it’s really not important and will only make people feel annoyed by you at cocktail parties.

What is important is this celebration, especially the word, roi.  Roi means King and I am a huge fan of royalty.  I love sorting people out by madeup bloodlines and then determining which of these people is more important than the others.  It makes thing easy.  In my pocketbook, I keep a simple square of paper.  On it, it shows a person with a crown and the words “LISTEN TO” and then there is a picture of someone without a crown and the words “CONTINUE TEXTING.”  It helps me out in all sorts of situations.

Anyway, to celebrate this holiday, Vincent and I decided to have a party.  We decided to have raclette which is a very great way to gain a lot of weight while eating something delicious.  This was my first time having raclette and I was delighted.  We melted the cheese in these small trays and then shuffled them onto the plate and dipped bread and potatoes into it.  Scrumptious!

Conveniently, I also told everyone to “not worry” and “please put your trays on top of this thing right here” which very quickly melted everyone’s plastic.  Nothing goes well with organic cheese, than simmering black plastic.  Also, scrumptious!

I invited a few French enthusiasts to this party and they kindly brought different French things: wine, the cake (which I felt “too tired” to make and instead watched a French drama), this amazingly strong, but very green liquor called “Chartreuese” and some delicious pastries.  The best way to get people to bring you free stuff is to have a party, especially when you tell them to “feel free to bring French things” and subtly hint that they will not be invited back if they don’t.

The guests were a good looking bunch.  One wore a lion dress.  Another, a crocheted beret and bowtie.  It was hard not to feel we were surrounded by movie stars.  I should have asked for autographs, but by the end of the night we had all ended up in one of the guest’s bedroom, drinking Chartreuse and surveying his sock collection.  C’est Magnifique!

Overall, it was a fine evening.  I especially enjoyed my guests enthusiasm for the French, a group of people who I will write a letter to and ask them for a membership card.  It will go something like this:

    CHER FRANCAIS,

              I have a lot of work to do regarding fully understanding your culture, but I am making tremendous progress here in the United States.  If accepted into your club, I will do my best at not terribly mispronouncing your words.  I will eat a large amount of your cheese.  I will drink your wine with the gusto of an opera singer.  Do not worry. I  know a lot about wine. I went to a French vineyard when I was sixteen and took a six minute class on it.  Here I was taught how to stick my nose into the cup.  It should be noted I have exquisite nostrils.  I also know how to tell strangers that “Je t’aime” which I have found is a very effective way to make friends.  Please let me know at your earliest convenience if I may be part of you.  I don’t know if this helps, but I can type 87 words per minute and in middle school had a non-speaking part in a play.

                               YOURS SINCERELY,

                                               Alexis

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