Behind the Magic

When I get home...

2009-05-28T23:44:00.005+02:00

#1 I must remember to start my studies on The British Guest.

The British visitors that come to Disneyland Paris have intrigued me. They have recently flocked to the magic kingdom.

Parents that let their kids loose all around- without being very watchful.

20 year old Brits that turn out to be 13.

12 year olds that act/dress/talk/think like 18year olds...

Mums that pass official complaints about Cruella Devil being mean to their sons.

Families that dress in an nonsenseful manner, but buy Disney merchandise as though it were cheap stuff.

The Brits, (Roast Beefs in French) are clearly a bunch worth studying.

Foutain of Blue Water

2009-05-11T12:26:00.004+02:00

Fontainebleau was, a million years ago, submerged under the sea. A kind of inland sea, with many streams and rivers linking to it. Its very name suggests that fact- the place used to be called Fontaine Belle Eau (Fountain of Beautiful Water)

Thousands of years later the filthy rich Kings of France built a chateau in the middle of what was then a forest larger than Paris itself. To the royals this was simply a hunting lodge.

Hundreds of years later, but only a few years after the famous '89 revolution, Fontainebleau is one of the Parisians' favorite weekend getaway.

Sebastian proposed to go on an excursion there with his new car. My first impressions of the place: a typical French castle (and France is literally littered with chateaux, especially in the neighbouring regions. Google Val de Loire). Upon entering the gold leafed gates one discovers a few unique touches: the strangely bright yellow walls, the exotic choice of plants and a variety of ~~mushrooms~~ fungi.

For the first time in my life I saw a white feathered peacock. With its fan (for lack of the right word) down you'd think it was some mixed breed of duck and swan.

(Update: Upon Googling this breed of peacock I learnt that "The White Peafowl breeds from India and are the rarest and feathers can reach a sale price of $500.00 per feather." -Wikipedia)

Surprised already twice in the same hour I wasn't expecting much once we got through the frontyard into the main grounds. Less so expecting to see a down-sized version of the Versailles Palace gardens. I find Versailles to be excessively large (the day i visited the place I fully understood why the French revolted against the Monarchy!). But here, on the opposite side of Paris is the same thing only on a more acceptable scale.

On the whole this castle, 45 mins away from Sleeping Beauty's Castle (at Disneyland) is not one for the Not to Miss list. By contrast the sourrounding forest is definitely worth the drive.

The interesting thing about this forest is that a) its made up of Pine tress which release a beautiful aroma; b) its full of great big rocks and boulders. The kind of big grey rocks that usally form part of marine habitat. Their smooth, slippery texture is evidence that these were one day below sea level. And another thing... the ground is made of sand! How surreal is that!?

Impressive.

pictures: Mik's Picasa Web Albums

A Meme

2009-05-08T22:28:00.004+02:00

I don't usually do memes but this was pretty fun to do- not to mention original. I nicked the idea from YouTube celeb Jazza John of Ryhming With Oranges.

DIRECTIONS:

- Go to Google image search.

- Type in your answer to each question.

- Choose a picture from the first page.

- Use this website (http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic.php) to make your collage.

QUESTIONS:

1. What is your name?

2. What is your favorite food?

3. What is your hometown?

4. What is your favorite color?

5. What is your favorite movie?

6. What is your favorite drink?

7. What is your dream vacation?

8. What is your favorite dessert?

9. What is one word to describe yourself?

10. How are you feeling right now?

11. What do you love most in the world?

12. What do you want to be when you grow up?

Surprisingly, Googling my name produces several images of me! I'm 100% Googleable! =)

share the link to your results as a comment

Of Penguin, Virgin and Curiosity

2009-05-03T17:45:00.007+02:00

While travelling from Brugge back to Brussels there was this girl.

We sat across from eachother on the train. She was reading. I was staring...at her. Well, not exactly at her, but at what she was reading.

The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger was printed on the red and white cover- a typical Penguin classic.

It surprised me that the book was in English, and I wondered why a forgein teenage girl would read an English classic- considered by English teens too boring to read. It intrigued me.

So today I went to Paris to buy the very same book from the Virgin Megastore next door to the Maltese Embassy. Simply to satisfy my curiosity.

Have you read it?

Google Reader (1000+)

2009-05-03T12:07:00.005+02:00

I was only away for 4 days.

But still Google got tired of counting the number of unread articles on my Google Reader.

I guess I know what I'll be reading this Sunday afternoon.

Click image to view it in its entirety

Crossing 2 borders in 2 days

2009-05-02T12:32:00.005+02:00

One moment I was bored- on forced vacation (why?) and had no idea how to occupy my time. The next moment I was on a train crossing the border into Belgium.

And moments later I was crossing another border into Holland... this time by bike. (Can things get anymore cliched?)

"Mik, pack a change of clothes. We're going to my homeland," exclaimed Seb. "I booked the train tickets and reserved a room in Brussels."

This is probably one of the things I will come to miss the most about living in France. The ease and facility of travelling. Through voyages-sncf.com we found the cheapest train tickets to Belgium (50Eurs) and through booking.com we reserved a room at a luxury hotel for an incredible 65Eur.

Eight hours later I was sitting in the newly refurbished Thayls train, travelling at 195km/h towards Belgium. In exactly 1hour and 20mins we reached our destination- that is the same time it takes to get from one side of Paris to the other with the RER (Paris' regional train).

Brussels is amazing. I just had to say that publicly.

I've always praised and boasted about the beauty of Paris and made clear to everyone my dream of living in the city. However, in Brussels views and opinions change.

It may very well be because I'm fed up of Paris, or it might be the fact that I had low expectations about Brussels- but for some reason I now have a massive desire to live and work there.

You wouldn't think (at least I didn't think so) that Belgium is a tourist kind of place- photo opportunities, theatres, famous museums, history, beautiful weather, relaxing...

My idea of Brussels before I got there was: cold, bureaucractic, people in suits, political minded people, nothing of interest to see/visit other than the EU buildings.

Asthetic-wise its completely different to Paris. Paris is all about history and old buildings. Brussels is all about modernity and contemporary thinking. Strange was the word of the day- from park benchs to metro stations, thinking to fashion sense- the Belgians have a strange way of doing things. Strange not in a weird way, but in a positive different way- a futuristic, modern, advanced way of thinking way.

Probably not Belgium's proudest export, QUICK was the first of may cliches we were to face. Quick, is a fast-food restaurant no different to McDonald's, only they claim to use authentic ingredients. Stepping out of the train station it was the first image our eyes registered.

If the French are Frogs, the Beglians are Fries. Another cliche. Everyone sells fries. And it's actually considered a speciality and no one dare say it's part of the fast food industry. Honestly, Beglian fries are delicious- and many times healthier than McD's.

Art seems to play a major role in their culutre. Everything is based on artistic principals. And with their advancement in ICT they produce some of the coolest things.

Probably one of the things that impressed me the most were the PEOPLE. Most porbably the inventors of the waffel had such and impact on me due to the fact that I've spent sooo much time with the Parisians- and have forgotten that there are people in this world who are not rude, coldhearted, careless, self-centered etc.

This may very well be one of my best anecdotes once I'm back in Malta: In Brussles its not just the bus-drivers who are kinder and ready to help you out, or the lady in the shop who doesn't care if you don't buy anything although she wasted 15mins of her time trying to explain the publc transport system... but even the panhandlers are more stranger-friendly- wishing you a good evening and happy long-weekend as you pass by. In Paris beggars a) either don't talk to you; or b) when (IF) they do it's to ask you for money and if you don't give them anything they'll curse you to hell.

Analyse the following stances:

French beggar approach: beg stranger into giving you a tip. No results? Make stranger feel uncomfortable about himself, use phrases such as "flithy rich bastard". (This might work on certain strangers however they will hate you for life and avoid you forever just like everyone else already has!) If that doesn't result in anything: Use as many vulgar words to scare the poor (no pun) stranger away.

Belgian beggar approach: Be polite- wish every passer by a nice day. Result: stranger will feel a tinge of guilt; most probably he will turn around to drop a tip into your cup. Say thank you.

There is another side to Belgium however: the pinch of salt on the strawberry [sic], the snail in your salad, the hole in the condom-- you get the point. It was a scene that shocked me sick- literally. I was uneasy for most of the time. It started out like any other Red Light District I know of: Sex shop after sex shop, weird looking bars with weird looking people drinking (yes you guessed it) weird looking drinks. There were curtained shops advertising "Pleasure from 5Euros" (if that meant prices starting from 5euros or get pleasure our of a five euro note- I wasn't going to find out). So far, it all seemed normal and gave me that normal feeling of 'not my kind of place.' We walked further on, turned round a corner and... I went pale.

The street looked just like an other commcerial street (Maltese readers- think of Merchants Street, Valletta): one shop next to the other with displays of the products sold in the glass windows. And here lay the difference- the products displayed: women. Women standing or sitting, women doing their hair, women talking on the phone- the only thing in common was their attire. No offense to anyone in this profession but all looked like rejected models from the lingerie industry. I could go on forever about my stroll through this street but it would be depressing.

If you're up for a discussion on "How can such off-putting women be in this profession?" let me know.

To be clear and be fair, I know that every country has a street similar to this one- and it's an accepted thing in many places- but the shocking thing is the manner in which the women are presented. Humans for sale. "Try me", "No satisfaction, no pay"... the only thing I didn't see, and nearly expected to see was the pan-european symbol CE (meets EU consumer saftey and health requirements). A total contrast to Brussels- the city of Human Rights Equality and Stuff.

Oh, and did I mention that the higher floors of this sex complex are the offices of the Police Commission HQ?

The next day we took the train to Brugge. A beautiful old city. Reminded me of Mdina. It's everything like in the pictures. Google it.

And continued into Knokke, which is a completely different Belguim. This city reminded me of Bugibba (Malta). It's the last Belgian city on the coast before entering Holland.

In Knokke we hired bikes and rode past the frontier into Caznad, the Dutch city bording with Beglian, sharing the same coastline. Biking in this region is another story. For the last 4 months I've been biking here in Paris, and i've gotten used to the cars (and their drivers' mentality). On this coastline however its other bikers you've got to look out for. The place is crowded.

That's for another time.

Here are a few photos.

Recap

2009-04-27T11:44:00.003+02:00

It's been a longtime and so much has happened. I doubt I'll post detailed posts about the last few major events that happened in the past 3 weeks.

Sunday, April 5: Drive up to Strasbourg. The Alsace region is a beautiful, picturesque place. Everything is completely different. It was like beign in a forgein country. Even the language they spoke was different: french with a horribly strong accent- sounded like Germans speaking French with the German alphabet.

The only negative thing (although from hindsight I'm beginning to think of it as positive- since I witnessed history) was that in Strasbourg every billboard, bus stop, lamp post, bridge and even a hotel was damaged in some way: broken down, smashed to bits, vandalised with graffiti or burnt down! The Saturday before there was the NATO meeting at the EU parliament in the same city and apprently the French went out to the streets to protest against France's renewed entry into the Alliance.

The next day we crossed the border into German to spend the day at Europa Park. This was my first time at a leisure park other than Disneyland- and I was impressed. Better ride, high standards, strict guest disiplinary rules... brilliant. Photos: Strasbourg + Europa Park.

Sunday, 19 April: We were off to another Attractions Park, this time closer to home: Parc Asterix. This is a 100% French theme park based on the comic-book Asterix & Obelix. Amongst the common people this is known as a cheap Disney. "Can't afford a Diseny ticket- Come to Parc Asterix"- kind of thing. Here is something to ponder over: to operate one attraction at Disney there are at least 14 castmembers (operators)- at Asterix its one per attraction... two max! I guess it adds to the thrill. Photos.

Wednesday, 22 April: I signed the Official Letter of Resignation. They specified the guidelines and code of ethics when leaving the company. One thing that shocked me was that: You are not permitted to take sick leave w/o justification, work extra hours, leave early/ come late or take vacation during the last month. :S

Present day: Im on forced vactation. I had a couple of days left and was told to take them now or lose them.

Away for Awhile

2009-04-05T00:50:00.004+02:00

I'm off to Strasbourg in less than 8 hours.

I won't be home for a while, and probably won't be connected to the net for that time.

No posts to read. Or new pics to view.

But I do recommend you follow me on Twitter, as if I have extra credit I'll text a tweet to let you all know how it's going.

The Plan

We leave here (Montevrain) at around 8h30.

By midday, or latest 2pm we should reach the our first destination: Strasbourg.

We'll spend the day sight-seeing, and we'll even sleep in the city.

The next day we head off to Germany, to reach our second destination: Europa Park

We should hopefully spend a fun-filled day doing attractions and being entertained.

1800 is our planned time of departure from Germany.

We should reach home by 9pm.

View Larger Map to see trip details.

I shall write a post once I'm back. I shall take photos and post them online.

smile!

More than a Pluto in Paris

2009-04-04T02:00:00.001+02:00

DO you remember this post?

recap: it was early in the morning. we had just spent the night in Paris and where on the train back home. A nearby passenger recognises me as a Bellhop from the Tower of Terror. Congratulates me on my bizarreness. (NB Bellhops of the Tower play weird roles).

Well, all that reoccured earlier this evening. We were on the last train ride home, half past midnight. The night was spent at the openning of the Foire du Trone, a massive luna park that opens once a year for one week.

The night was pretty cool. It was the first time I had ever been to a real luna park, one that consisted of more than 2 thrill rides, a candyfloss maker and a coke vending machine. This park had roller coaster rides after flying chairs, human milkshakers, and the lot. There were walk-through haunted mansions, a first for me- and probably my favorite thing of the night.

Facebook Album

Security was on high alert. This was ouesh (pronounced "wesh") terrority. Ouesh ouesh is the French version of an American gangsta'. The night played out smoothly, albeit herds of men jumping queues. (They are French afterall- queue lines are an American thing).

I was just thanking my lucky stars for a night without having witnessed a fight when something didn't seem to be right on the train.

"What's your problem?" repeated the kid with an increasingly aggressive tone.

With no reply from the Asian looking guy he was supposedly talking to he stood up and approached. The bully was a little kid, and to be honest it added a comedic element to the episode. The rest of the wagon had frozen. Everyone looked on with tense air- expecting something to happen. The victim of the whole thing was supprisingly calm and seemed to handle the provocation very well. I sliently applauded the victim for his response when the kid told him:

"If you've got a problem I'll call my mates and we'll settle this."

"I'm sorry," a sarcastic plead from the victim, "I don't have any friends. I'll have to settle this by myself."

The Asian stood up. It became even more clear at what a young kid the bully was. The Asian was double his size, wearing a suit and holding a briefcase. The air was very tense, and chaud (literal translation: hot).

The Asian kept his calm. But it was evident that the kid wanted a fight and was making every excuse to get the party started. The kid approached the Asian, touching their chests together. The Asian raised his arm between them to keep a distance. The bully took this as a sign of Get it on. So, the bully clutched the Asain by the jaw.

This is were it got all so interesting and confusing at the same time.

The bully's mate, who was a spectator until now, approached the two. With an exaggerated puffed chest he pushed the Asian into the cornor- thus it was a two to one situation. i.e. unbalanced.

Out of nowhere and as if it was choergraphed a guy dashes from behind me, another guy comes from behind the train. They split them up. The entire thing gets physical. Arms and heads seem to be bobbing everywhere within the crowd of commotion. Its clear that the kid is defending rather than attacking (what a coward). And as if by magical coincidence the train stops moments later at the station. The Train Police (as though they had been informed) invade the wagon and throw all those part of the brawl off. Passengers in the wagon pointed out the bully and the heroes and the night was saved.

What I find incredible is the fact that although the French are some of the most non-social people when it comes to public transport they're always ready and on alert to help those in need. Honestly, the two guys that flew out of no where to help, seemed like undercover agents, whose role was specifically to break up fights- but they were too ordinary to be agents.

That episode must have broken the ice other than anything else. The entire wagon was united and passengers were passing remarks from one end to the other. It was at this moment that the man infront of me began talking to me. And that's how I discovered another Pluto.

(What's a Pluto? Read this post.)

It begins with a signature

2009-04-03T10:42:00.003+02:00

Here we go.

I guess this is the beginning of the end of one of my life's best and most full-filling experiences yet.

This morning I signed the last Housing Contract I shall ever sign in France for the time being.

It is also the very contract that initiates the count down of my stay.

As in every contract (at least in France) one is obliged (if one accepts the terms) to write Read and Approved followed by a signature. In the tense moment, that lasted no more than 10 minutes in a hospital-ward-looking office, I still found it humours to abide by that custom and approve the very date I, myslef submitted. It felt like I was choosing my own execution date, but at the same time I felt as though I was choosing my own date for freedom (don't ask what from).

"It would be excatly one year that you would have moved in with us," remarked the very lady that helped me sign my first Housing Contract 10 months ago. "Time flies."

And things change. I remember clearly that a year ago I didn't like the first impression I had of this lady. And every day since I've done my best to avoid her. A long time later we're back in a similar situation but so much has changed. My impression of her is now one of a sweet, kind-hearted mother. This time round I don't need the English translation of the contract (that was offered to me the first time round). Confidence in speaking and expressing myself in the foreign language has improved a tremendous amount.

Wait's awaiting?

I have a strange feeling that from now till my departure it's going to be a rush of panic to get all my papers sorted. I'll try and take each day as it comes. "Indeed, times flies."

Don’t cry because it’s over, SMILE because it happened

Who said it best?

2009-04-02T22:11:00.001+02:00

A lady in her 60s.

She was exiting the elevator after a trip to the Twilight Zone, at the Tower of Terror.

It was clear that the blood in her aged body was in high circulation, as she couldn't keep still without holding on to the walls.

Amidst all the screaming and shouting, cheering and laughing of the other exiting guests she exclaimed, "Wow! That was orgasmic!"

For a split second I went out of character and let my jaw drop.

"I'll be seeing you again I reckon. Have a magical day."

Clip Preview

2009-03-30T12:02:00.002+02:00

A sneak peak to the pics i'll be posting on flickr

You Know It's Time When... #5

2009-03-30T11:23:00.002+02:00

You start referring to the British as Roast beef

Explanation: The British call the French frogs. Europe calls the Belgians fries. The French call the British Roast beef (pronounced Ross-beef) - after Britain’s traditional Sunday meal.

View the complete series so far.

Miska Muska Mickey Mouse

2009-03-29T23:55:00.001+02:00

I spent an entire day at Disneyland. A camera full of magic-filled shots. Keep an eye on my Flickr file for all the pictures. I shall be uploading them here... few at a time.

Mickey's Magical Party

image: shot by self at the Disneyland Resort Paris; depicts Sleeping Beauty's Castle decorated for the Mickey Magical Party celebrations.

You Know It's Time When... #4

2009-03-29T12:05:00.004+02:00

You learn to ignore the crowd, although at its heart

case in point: The French are crowd people. The idea of lining up in a single file to queue up for something is American (to the French). Thus crowds in France are a common occurance. People pushing, shouting and thrusting to be the first. Frist time experience of this barbaric ritual is shocking, coming from the citizens of such posh-endowed civilisation. You'd think that you would never be able to live with the French after seeing such an act-- but not after you've spent enough time with them.

view the entire series so far of this collection.

A Conflict of Magic

2009-03-28T23:45:00.000+01:00

A fifth day. I wasn't in the mood.

A fifth day on a Saturday. I would have said "No way!" But being the kind-hearted boy I am I accepted to work over time to help out a badly staffed team.

Today was the PRESS EVENT for Mickey's Magical Party, which begins next week; at Disneyland Resort Paris. The parks were full of photographers snapping every angle, journalists with their Blackberries, film crews.... and the VIPs.

It was rumored and confirmed that Phil Collins; Italian footballer, Cannavarro; French rugby player Chabal; with a variety of other French celebs (I don't know) were present at the Walt Disney Studios.

It was rumoured with no confirmation that Will Smith was also on French soil, at the Kingdom of Magic.

The presence of VIP Guides, whose presence on the parks is as rare as their costumes' beauty were out in overwhelming numbers.

Bizarrely the celebs and guided VIPs were invited to the park, and that means they didn't pay a cent to experience the magic. Free hotelling at the prestigous Disneyland Hotel, free private guide (for each member of the family if neccassary! I saw a little girl with her own guide!)- they usually cost 400Eur/hour (hence their rare presence on the parks). And all other VIP treatment entirely for free.

Ordinary guests had to pay no less than 59Eur (for one day) and were restricted from many things. Due to the high presence of VIPs, all the best seats for all the theatrical shows were reserved, including the new parade.

I find that highly unfair. But then again it forms part of the Disney Marketing Stragtey. Word will travel fast that Phil Collins (& co.) celebrated Mickey's 80th Anniversary at Disneyland Paris.

You Know It's Time When... #3

2009-03-27T01:42:00.002+01:00

You curse in French, even when talking to family and friends back home.

case in point: you forget words like shit, crap, f*ck. Or uffa, mad*nna, istrina, h*qq (Maltese). And replace them with merde, putain, chier, connasse... etc. The surprisingly splendid thing about the French language (aka language of amour) is that swearing is practically a lingusitic art. Swearing in French doesn't consist of one word vulgarisms, but a series that ends up in an entire sentence of rude words.

Example: va te faire foutre t'un espèce de merde, fils de pute!!

And the more lingusitically capable you are, the more colourful your sentence.

I enjoy listening to a French curse!

view the entire series so far.

You Know It's Time When... #2

2009-03-26T20:19:00.002+01:00

The second post in the series.

You begin to carry a Zippo in your pocket although you don't smoke.

Explanation: whether you're here on holiday- short or long stay- or not, strangers are bound to come up to you and ask for a light. The line "got a light" is not used as an ice-breaker here in France. There exist so many a French man (and woman) who smoke that sharing fags and lights has integrated into their culture.

view previous entries of this series here

Responsibility is the Best Policy

2009-03-24T14:43:00.003+01:00

A short film executive produced by Grant Heslov and George Clooney.

Tony is about a relentlessly responsible father. But the Tony at issue isn’t his son. It’s his son’s teddy bear. Or more vexingly, his 6-year-old son’s lost teddy bear. And therein lies the crisis, the challenge, and the question: Can you ever be too responsible?

Certainly parents who make the ultimate sacrifice of taking a family trip to Disneyland can already claim to have done the right thing for the kids. So when Tony is lost on that trip, shouldn’t a replacement bear be good enough?

--You are not fully dressed until you wear a smile--

Source: Responsibilty Project

You Know It's Time When...

2009-03-24T13:30:00.003+01:00

You Know It's Time When... shall be a series of short posts related to the real purpose of this blog: French lifestyle and I.

This collection of posts shall be all about why I think I've spent enough time in France, specifically Paris. The title actually makes reference to knowing when its time to end a relationship. Here, the relationship is between the ageless lady and myself.

The first post: (You Know It's Time When...)

To pass the time in queue lines you play word games (I Spy, Telephone, etc)... in French.

Case in point: Waiting in a 4 hour queue to get into the Bercy Stadium to watch PINK's Funhouse Tour concert, I was amongst a group made of 2 Italians, a Belgian, and a Greek- not a single French.

From the Flickr File

2009-03-23T17:27:00.004+01:00

13 Days to go

2009-03-21T23:55:00.001+01:00

I did not want the weekend to pass without having posted anything, and seeing that this Sunday (tomorrow) I'm working (a rarity) I'm not going to have time.

Thus I'll post sneak-peak photos that I shot today while at the Walt Disney Studios. Most photos are related to the new celebration, officially commencing on April 4th: Mickey's Magical Party.

The best shots will be posted on my Flickr File, while the entire album shall be found on my Picasa.A smile confuses an approaching frown.

Pluto in Paris

2009-03-20T01:50:00.006+01:00

It's nearly 2am and I'm knackerd. I've just come back from an evening spent in Paris. I'd be in bed right now were it not for my urge to share an experience before the night is up.

We had just spent the night in Paris and were returning home by train (commonly referred to by it's name: RER [a slower TGV]). With every stop the sardine packed train emptied. Towards the end of the journey it was just us and another voyager who was preparing to get off at the next stop.

The young man, probably my age, skateboard in hand and large headphones around his neck approached me. [the following was held in French- translation is literal]

"Hey. You don't happen to work at Disney do you?" He asked.

I was slightly taken aback and coldly replied, "...Yess?!?"

"You're a castmember at the Walt Disney Studios?"

"That's right," still sceptical about where this was going.

"Have you ever worked at the Tower of Terror?"

"Yes. It's my base attraction."

"Then it was you I saw last time. You're the one who doesn't speak much."

I didn't quiet understand the term he used. I turned to look at my French friend who explained that he was referring to my Mime show.

"Oh! Yes. That's me! I do the mime."

"Well dude I'll take your hand," he shakes my hand, "it was one of the best shows I've seen. I liked it lots. We wanted to leave you a PLUTO, but didn't know your name."

"Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. For next time my name is Mik."

The young man parted. My friends applauded. I felt proud to be.

A smile is a language that even a baby understands.

p.s. PLUTO: is a guest compliment to a castmember.

In the Press

2009-03-18T19:59:00.011+01:00

France, or at least Paris is full of free newspapers. In the metro (aka subway in England) one can find stand near stand of news journals from several different news network companies. And it's all for free- hence their popularity.

Seeing as they're free for all they obviously lack something. Unlike, say the Times of Malta, there are no Opinion columns, or an Editorial. The freebie newspapers are just factual journals- and are full of adverts.

Backstage, behind the scenes at Disneyland the most popular of the journals (called METRO) is made available. Therefore each weekday the 2000 of us at sometime or another throughout the day would end up reading this journal.

In the last two days, there were 4 articles which caught my eye and I find are worth sharing:

1) An article on Malta. I was delighted to discover a beautiful picture of the Grand Harbour.

The article, titled: Sardinia and Malta- Pearls of the Med; was subtitled by: Lesser known than Sicily the island has a richness like no other.

2)Article two was good news: French government is to reduce VAT (known as TVA in France) to 5.5%- which means buying a cafe simple at 1EUR in Paris is now plausible (maybe possible one day), or a ham&cheese sandwich for less than 4.95EUR.

3) This was a bit more worrying, although has become habitual. A general strike shall be held on Thursday 19 (tomorrow). Honestly, I do not know why they're striking this time- and neither do the French I asked. Why should you strike right after the govt announces a decrease in VAT? Fortunately it will just be the public transport that would effect me. 48 hours with no news, no school, no public services won't bother me.

The good thing about a French strike is that they warn you in advance (its the law)- thus I'm well aware of the fact that tomorrow I need to plan earlier than usual to take an hour long journey to get to work.

A smile is a window on your face to show your heart is at home

p.s. celebrated St. Patrick's at Disneyland. Fireworks and all. View photos here.

Frankly Shared

2009-03-16T09:37:00.005+01:00

Let's forget about magic for one post.

As I often do during my days off I catch up on all the feeds that would have accumulated over the week in my Google Reader. The few articles I do like I repost on my Google Shared Items.

Here's an interesting topic for debate. It's all about having a common language in the European Union, at least at the EU Parliament- the author suggests English be it. I agree.

However, what do you think?

Written by Eamonn Fitzgerald

Of course the Bulgarians will debate ebulliently in Bulgarian, just as the Italians will campaign indefinitely in Italian. And the French will argue fervently in French, while right up to the end, the Finns will deliberate in Finnish. But when the MEPs come to Brussels, they will all speak one language.

And it won’t be Romanian. Sure, Commissioner Leonard Orban is all for multilingualism, and the full report of his imposingly-named “Group of Intellectuals for Intercultural Dialogue” concluded that “Promoting a ’second mother tongue’ strengthens multilingualism and intercultural dialogue,” but there is something called “reality” and it will certainly make its presence felt this year.

For one, the enormous costs of maintaining the EU’s translation and interpreting services will have to be questioned at a time when industries and countries are fighting for economic survival. Then, there’s the environmental aspect of generating so much paper-based documentation. Making it all digital would be a rational alternative, but it would not address the crux of the matter.

Enter English. And here is the proposition in favour of getting all MEPs to use the world’s lingua franca:

The evidence points to the imminent collapse of the European Union’s official language policy, known as “mother tongue plus two”, in which citizens are encouraged to learn two foreign languages as well as their own (ie, please learn something besides English). Among Europeans born before the second world war, English, French and German are almost equally common. But according to a Eurobarometer survey, 15-to-24-year-olds are five times more likely to speak English as a foreign language than either German or French. Add native speakers to those who have learnt it, and some 60% of young Europeans speak English “well or very well”.

That’s Charlemagne in the 12 February edition of The Economist. Hard to argue with the logic of “English is coming“.

Quoting Philippe van Parijs, a Belgian academic, Charlemagne adds that “speakers at EU meetings automatically choose the language that excludes the fewest people in the room. They do not use the language best known, on average, by those present (which in some meetings will still be French). Instead, they seek the language that is understood, at least minimally, by all. Thanks to EU enlargement to the east (and poor language skills among British and Irish visitors to Brussels), this is almost always English.”

Yes, let’s learn as many languages as we can and, yes, let’s honour their diversity and beauty, but let’s not waste millions on denying the reality that one of the 23 official languages is, luckily for all of us, better suited to saving resources and money than the other 22. Especially when those resources and that money could be, should be, used more effectively and efficiently in a time of crisis

Article was found here

Smile - It's the second best thing you can do with your lips.

Comida Con Amigos

2009-03-15T01:20:00.007+01:00

Today I was meant to show you a new set of Disney photos, but unfortunately the weather wasn't right. Apart from bad natural lighting, the greyness in the air affected my mood and I no longer had a fancy to take pics of Mickey's grin.

On the other hand, I can provide you with pictures of food (the most prominent subject in my facebook albums). Tonight we dined at Canas y Tapas, which is a Spanish restaurant chain- this being their first and only outlet in France, at present.

more images will be available on facebook.

follow this link to view album

In other news, tomorrow I'll be working. After yesterday's post you know why I'm glad to have been asked to do an extra shift. Moreover its Sunday, I have rarely (if ever) worked on a Sunday.

A smile is the light in the window of your face that tells people you're at home.

Week Ends on Positive Note

2009-03-13T23:59:00.004+01:00

It's such a pity that today of all days of the week was a good (if not great) day.

The last day of the week turns out to be the best day in a while.

It's a pity because having spent a great day with the guests making magic, encourages you to keep going and work more. Whereas having a not-so-good day would make one look forward to the weekend, thus relax and prepare oneself for the new week.

Here I am, wishing I'm called in to work tomorrow.

Most of the guests seemed to be in a good mood today, which spreads good vibes, which in return injects castmembers with extascy-like energy. Of course, the guests I'm referring to are the British- our all time favourite. They don't complain over minor things, they're polite (generally), they understand something the first time it's explained to them...

In other news: works for Mickey Mouse's Birthday party, which officially begins on the 4th April are nearly done. Most of the Boutiques have stocked up on new (and amazingly BEAUTIFUL) merchandise. Mickey's face is all over the place- although an old face, it gives the parks a refreshing look, after celebrating DLRP's 15th Anniversary for 3 consecutive years.

In fact, all this good feeling that seems to be everywhere has given me the fancy to take pics of the new merchandise and NEW CHARACTERS (some that have never before been seen in Paris/Europe). Return tomorrow for a set of Mickey Pics.

*DLRP- Disneyland Resort Paris

image: Flickr

Smile - it increases your face value

Party at Pink's Funhouse

2009-03-10T23:47:00.004+01:00

update14/03: photos

No matter how hard I may try, I doubt I will ever manage to dream of a better night.

The night I write about, was the last, that is the final hours of 9 March. It happened to be the night PINK performed in front of a packed stadium in Paris. The same night thousands of ppl were mesmerised by the awesomeness of one person.

Indeed, what I'm trying to say is that last night's concert was fantastic- literally, something out of fantasy. Flamboyant costumes, elegant dancers and a stage that sparkles "life".

I was impressed because all my expectations were exceeded! I thought I was going to watch a concert. Instead I was presented to a show. The difference? A show compromises of several different arts (i.e.dance, song, act, etc.). Whereas a concert focuses on one (maybe two) particular art forms. Not only did Pink and her company sing (heavenly) and dance, but they wire-trapezed, fly around, somersaulted in the air, bungy jumped into water, spun around the entire audience suspended in the air by a cable/chord... not to metion the interaction with the audience - which was very welcome.

I had the impression I was watching a Disney production when I saw the flamboyance, variety and quality of the costumes used! And the enormity of the stage gave the impression we were at a circus- or should that be 'at the Funhouse'?

A ~~girl~~ woman that can move her ass in such a way and sing in such a tone (live!) at one go deserves one's chapeau. I was shocked to discover that Pink is actually 30 years of age. I would have guessed something like 27.

After all photography was permitted. I was slightly gutted when I found out, a moment too late, but the outcome was positive seeing as it would have been too heavy to carry around all night- making me more uncomfortable than I already was.

Yes, comfort is a completly different story on the night. But that's for another time.

For now I wish you a pleasent night.

Views photos albums on facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=83425&id=549437594&ref=share

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=83431&id=549437594&ref=share

Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.

For a Brighter Day

2009-03-08T23:45:00.005+01:00

Tomorrow, which starts in a couple of minutes should be like a silver lining on a grey cloud.

My alarm is set for 8am. Our bike trips are usually on Sundays but I wasn't feeling to well this morning, so we postponed it for tomorrow.

Later that day- the evening actually- we have PINK's CONCERT! Finally. Tickets were bought four months ago. This concert is the very reason I extended my stay in this bureaucraticly-infested country.

Apparently we've got to leave here (Chessy-home) at 12pm. Get there by 13.30 and start queuing to get a good place.

Bike Trip around town

FUNHOUSE COVER

Update: I've just been informed that photography is forbidden. What the hell!? I wanted to take some good close-up shots of my favourite singer (probably my only favourite-I'm not a fan of many bands-let alone attend their concerts!)

smile- we all smile in the same language!

Happy Women's Day

2009-03-08T18:11:00.003+01:00

"Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition"- Timothy Leary

A pic from my "Me with a Message" file

Pain all over- Gotta love my job

2009-02-17T23:55:00.000+01:00

I couldn't have planned a better day myself.

First day back at work after 3 weeks of absence, was a day jam packed.
A well charged day full of commotion and activity- unlike ordinary weekdays.

Due to last night's anxiety I left home way ahead of time this morning. I was afraid that in 3 weeks the entire park could have changed. Boy was I mistaken.

Upon entering Imaginations (the main building backstage, aptly named)I felt as though it was my first day at work. It felt magical to a certain extent; seeing all the costumes of every single attraction walk in front of me. To help you imagine the feeling: try and recall the film Santa Claus 2, when the kids visit Santa's workshop at the north pole? the feeling the kids had the moment they saw the elves working and all the bright colours flying was the same feeling I felt seeing a guy in the Phantom Manor dress kissing his girlfriend goodbye wearing a Pirate's costume (from Pirates of the Caribbean). The Magic.

I remember that before I got off on sick leave the weekdays were very quiet, uneventful days. Today started out great and ended great.

The attraction opened late, due to an operational problem. Thus for the first 45 mins of my shift we stood in front of the attraction answering guests' questions.
Sometime later we discovered an abandoned bag in a bin, and thus the very strict Disney security procedure commenced; which involved closing the attraction.
Few hours into past noon we had a 'Guest Situation' (dispute with a guest) like anyother except this time it was one of us against 11 of them (guests). Security was called to escort the disrespectful youths out of the building. Such things cause excitement amongst us castmembers. Makes us feel powerful that we have the power to ban people from places.
Oh, apart from that group of mad-youths, I should mention that most of the guests present were the sympathetic kind- especially the French.

But the highlight of my day has got to be the end.

15 minutes to end of my shift I was in the director's position; the attraction was in my hands. I was eyeing the monitors on the wall in front of me, in the control tower. There I noticed something suspicious. I asked my assistant to verify my suspicion- she wasn't sure either.

We were running out of time. The elevator this suspicious man was in had just entered the Shaft, in less than 60seconds the elevator would drop its first 20meter fall. Panic was beginning to take over. I was beginning to raise my voice (unintentional).
"Get me a confirmation on the man in the back row! 4th on the 4th! Shit! Quick!" I demanded.
"I can't! Visibility is low!"
Anyone that entered the control room at that moment would have thought we were both deaf.
"What am I supposed to do?? Shit!" Panic. Panic. "I'm going to do it. Shall i do it?"
"Ok do it."
We began a count down, as we were trained to do no matter what circumstance.
"3...2..." The elevator begins its first 40km/s fall. "...1."

BAM!

My hand slams the big red button. Ride Stop. Attraction halted in emergency mode.

What followed suite was the ordinary procedure for anyone that disrespects Disney's security rules.

You see, such opportunities very rarely do happen, thus doing so is a thrill for us.

What a day. Feels so good to be back at work, albeit the sore feet, back ache and good old fatigue! Welcome back to the real world, Mik.

Anxiety

2009-02-16T23:55:00.005+01:00

It's been 3 weeks since I haven't been to work.

My sick leave ends tonight.

Tomorrow I shall be back at work. Back to making magic, something I began to miss terribly over the last few days. Back to making children smile and adults simper.

Back to work is also back to a routine. A pre-organised, methodical routine. A return to an ambience of a stress-filled entourage. Back to join a team of single-minded castmembers working to keep the 4 Keys of Disney in check.

And honestly... I'm scared. A lot may (and definitely has) changed in 3weeks. It feels like my first day at work.

p.s. the anxiety is keeping me up. hence this post.

Observing the EU

2009-02-12T21:34:00.003+01:00

Those of you that have recently visited my Shared Items page on Google Reader, found here, would have come across a note about an odd, but yet very welcoming news article.

Apparently "[trucks] in the European Union could see additional tolls for the air and noise pollution as well as the congestion they create following broad backing in an EU parliament committee on Wednesday (11 February) for a revision of existing legislation on road charges..."

Read the entire article here.

p.s. apologies for the short, out-of-theme post. I'm preparing a post on my VIE MA VIE experience. (Live My Life is a game show were two participants exchange roles for a day.) Come back soon.

*source: EUobserver

Brand Malta

2009-02-08T09:23:00.004+01:00

I've always been an ambassador to my country.

Back in Malta I was a tour guide at a private museum where I would only boast about my country's rich heritage. I enjoyed sharing my passion with muggles of history.

Here in France I do my best to promote my country. It's slightly tougher though because living abroad has made me realise that not everything Malta offers is unique. And more often than not other countries can offer so much more.

"We've got larger beaches and cleaner sea," said a Danish castmember about her homeland.

When I brought up the subject of rich history, "I'm sorry, but I'm still a teen. I don't travel for history, I travel to find sun, sand, sea and fun. Plus we have our share of museums" She had a point. (I would have continued to argue about aquatic-tourism but this particular Dane felt like a potentional pain in [...]-- a pain best to avoid.)

It was the same for most of the richer European nations, each having their own good points for choosing their country. I was beginning to wonder "why leave your country then?"

If I were being followed by TV cameras the viewers would have noticed that my Brand Malta campaign wasn't as juicy as when I started out.

However, last night changed all that and put things back on track.

We were a group of six that didn't know one another too well. So, until the ice between us broke we only spoke to the person we knew best... until...

"Excuse me," I said across the table, "what did you just say?" I was certain I overheard something that concerned me. "Where did you say you where going?"

"er... Malta, this island in the med..."

"Oh!' I gasped the air like it was a new flavored version. "I know where Malta is. Malta is home!" I said as though I was an explorer discovering Malta for the first time.

She gasped, kinda taken aback by the surprise (or maybe by the way I said it). She then pointed to a minuscule grey necklace around her neck. The necklace had a small pendant shaped thing...

"Oh my word! That's the Maltese cross!"

"It's one of my most treasured possessions."

Malta & EU at the Maltese Embassy (Paris)

The night wasn't long enough. Talking about Malta and one's adventures is lifelong. I felt my Maltese pride come back to me just like hot cocoa in my stomach on a snow day.

This Colombian-born Swede came to Malta for the first time to study English. In doing so she fell in love with the islands and its people (and the buses). The last time she was in Malta was back in 2007, and after her trip flew directly to France to begin working where she works now: the Parade at DLRP (i.e.Disneyland).

We were at it so much that 4 of the people at table were persuaded to visit the islands this summer. The Swede, a Dane, Brit and a Belge... and perhaps an Italian will be joining the group of friends I had already put together earlier on during my stay. They will be joining the French-born American, the Spanish and a Sicilian, to embark on The Great Siege.

This summer has the air* of something memorable!

*has the air is a literal translation of a French expression, of which the meaning can easily be understood.

In France You do it Their Way

2009-02-06T16:14:00.004+01:00

Do you remember that post I wrote a month back regarding a questionnaire the management of my residence wanted us residents to fill in? Jog Your Memory Here.

Well, today, the story continues.
To be honest with you, the moment I saw the manner the un-anonymous survey was presented to me I immediately put it aside. I had no intention to answer the electronic questionnaire... back than.

Early this afternoon, I was on my to the washroom (literally a room full of Washing machines and and equal amount of tumble dryers) when the lady in charge stopped me.
"Excuse me sir," she said all so politely (one of the things I love about this country; moreover, Monsieur sounds better than Sir). "I would like to have a word with you later, if you may."

A hundred and one thoughts ran through my mind as I put my washing into the machine.
Was my housing-aid application not accepted?
Were there insufficient funds to pay my last rent?
Did someone spend the night in my apartment?
Was I making too much noise...?

"Did you want to see me?" It was an hour later that I returned to her office.
"Yes. In fact I want to ask you if you remember receiving a letter in you letterbox regarding a questionaire..."
Oh, I knew where this was going. A wide grin grew on my face, a sign of my pride knowing that I was right all along: anonymous my ass.
"Yes. I do remember receiving the letter."
"But you have not replied to it, yes?"
Clearly you know quite a lot about me.
"Mr Pisani," this woman always surprises me when she calls me by name, "this survey is anonymous, and it helps us improve our standards to residents like you."
Anonymous my ass.
"In fact, madame, that is very reason why I refrained from taking part in the survey- it is not anonymous. How would you know if I answered it or not, were it anonymous?"

The lady began to explain the way it works. 'Each resident is given a private code. He uses this to sign into the website. The website automatically send us an email informing us that Mr X has completed the form, however does not reveal the answers.'
Still, not very reassuring.

The lady then produced a 3page list of all the residents names...and their private code. How am I to believe its an anonymous questionnaire when they're got all the necassary info to match answers with names??

"OK. I'll do it." I only agreed to do it to get it over and done with. I don't have anything to hide, and answering the form will improve standards. However, I'm disappointed at the level of anonymity that they agreed to in the first place.

Now Im off to meet my political friends for a night of crepes, gallettes and gaufres. Vive les diabetes.

Dinner with Sarkozy...

2009-02-03T09:31:00.007+01:00

It was no more than a week ago that I dined with the Mayor of Montevrain (my city).
After yesterday's evening event I came to the conclusion that

if things keep going in the same direction, at the same pace I would end up dinning with Mr Sarkozy himself by the end of the month.

So yesterday I was invited to dine with the Youth Members of UMP. The Union pour un Mouvement Populaire, is the same political party that the present French President comes from. Just like the invitation to the council's "Best Wishes", the only reason I accepted the invitation was for the 'new experience'. Only this time I was glad I attended.

Back in Malta, although I was not directly involved in politics, but rather well-informed about what's happening on the political scene never had I attended a political function*, let alone dine with members of MZPN (Membri Zghazagh Partit Nazzjonalista- Youth Members of the Nationalist Party).

As it happened it turned out that these youths, 10 of them, whose ages ranged from 20 to 31 years (yeah I know- not really a youth at 30) were some of the nicest, most sociable, interesting French folk I've met so far during my stay in the land of preached (but not practised) fraternity.

They all come from different social backgrounds: a student, a financier (and part time film-maker), a salesman, a mayor's secretary, a member of parliament, a woodchucker... amongst the rest.

"Mik," said Anne. "Meet Benoit. Benoit, meet Mik."
"Err... enchanté," I hesitated as we had already introduced ourselves during the introduction period of the dinner.
"Benoit here is a fan of Malta. A true fan." Benoit threw a confused look Anne's way.
"Benoit, Mik here is Maltese. He comes from Malta."
And that kicked it off.

Ever since he discovered Malta, Benoit has visited the island 5 times. When over, he resides in the Balluta bay area. He hasn't been to Comino "because there isn't anything to do," he thinks. (This is beginning to sound like a Bio Brief.)
One time he walked it all the way from Popeye's Village to Mosta, after missing the last bus. And apparently walked it from Victoria, Gozo to Marsalforn. The thing that surprised me the most was his knowledge of Maltese politics: he's aware that the Maltese equivalent of UMP is PN. He even asked me if I have my PN card! I was like "only die-hard fans actually have one".

Oh yeah... and the best thing about this night was that it wasn't political AT ALL (apart from Maltese politics, which was more like a history lesson)!

*except one time, Independence Day- which technically should not be considered a political function- but rather a national feast!

Dining with the Mayor

2009-01-28T00:40:00.007+01:00

I came to France to experience new and different things.

The only reason I accepted to attend tonight's reception was to fulfil that very desire.

The event was a get-together by the mayor of Serris to wish all the residents and neighbouring residents a Happy New Year. Here are a few points worth mentioning which may help you picture the event:

1. France is divided nothing like Malta is. Serris forms part of a district called Marne-la-Vallee, which includes Chessy (Disneyland), Montevrain (my present town), Lagny (the largest) and many others... In turn Marne-La-Vallee forms part of the 77th District known as Seine-et-Marne, which is made up of several groups of towns like Marne-la-Vallee. Even further, Seine-et-Marne (aka 77) forms part of Ile-de-France, another grouping of grouped towns, which includes Paris (the City).

2. Over the past two weeks each of the Local Councils of the towns that form part of Marne-La-Vallee have been inviting each other over to their Town Halls to wish one another 'Best Wishes'

3. Serris is the town I used to live in before moving to Montevrain. I spent my first 4 months of life in France in this very sweet and cosy place.

When Seb, who is an elected member on the board of councillors of Montevrain invited me to attend the "Best Wishes" ceremony of Serris, I wasn't all for it. I had a bad feeling of it's not my thing; I'll feel out of place; I'm not even an eligible voter... Against all odds I ended up going.

It started well. Upon entering the grand hall, lined up on either side were the recently elected council members. Thus it was quasi-obligatory to shake every single members’ hand. I followed Seb. It wasn't too hard.

"Bonne soiree. Bonne Annee," you would greet the member.

"Meilleurs Voeux," he would reply.

It was the same procedure for each of the 29 members. I ended up using this small (very small) talk with all the strangers I ended up shaking hands with this night; friends of Seb.

It continued to go well. The actual show was opened by a young group of musicians (to refrain from using the term rock band.) Surprisingly they were good. They played three tunes, and the vocalist sang very well in English. For all the time this group was up I was into their entertainment- I was only disappointed to find that they weren't going to play anything French.

Then the mayor had his speech. He introduced all 29 members onto the stage- and here I wish I took a photo. Looking at each member side by side I saw what defines FRANCE. France is a multi-cultural and ethnically rich country. Members of this council originated from all over the globe: black man from Africa, black woman from America, a Moroccan, Chinese, Germanic and everything in between.

The mayor continued his speech. A speech that was one hour too long; it lasted around 90 minutes. I was hot and I was not interested. I began to realise that I'm out of place amongst all these men. I'm the youngest person in a suit; I am the person with the lowest pay; I am the only person who cannot vote for anyone in the building; i began to think.

With the mayor's last words the buffet of finger food opened. But it wasn't long before Anne told us we're getting the hell out of here and going to have a proper dinner. I wasn't really in the mood of eating out again.

"You must come with us, you'll see why," said Anne.

We were our little clique: Seb, Anne, Laurence and I.... and a fifth person.

This man turned out to be the Mayor of my town, Montevrain. I was flabbergasted and awed at the fact that he invited me to join him to dinner.

I felt very proud and honoured. I spent 4 years living in Valletta and had never dined on a personal basis with the mayor. And here I am, 4 months after my move to Montevrain and I'm already dinning with my Mayor. The gentleman ended up paying for the entire meal.

And for those of you wondering the man is a real French man. i.e. very generous (once you're part of his clan), very charming (especially for his age), and very sociable, and he seems like a hard worker-- I guess I've just described a typical politician. Having said that he did remind me of Jacques Chirac; although he's on the opposing side.

I was tagged

2009-01-26T22:05:00.008+01:00

I'm not really into blogging communities. I only really blog to keep a record of my favorite moments of life in Paris... and to keep my mum updated. I'm on sick leave for the next 3 weeks, and I'm already bored.

So, I was tagged by Mina in a 'meme', which I learnt is a "concept that spreads from one person to person via the Internet, much like an inside joke."* In this case we have a set of questions that is passed around the blogging community, by tagging people to keep it flowing through the web.

I actually enjoyed doing this.

The Questions:

Q: Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] says" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] asks" in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] likes " in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] eats " in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] wears " in Google search.
Q: Type in "[your name] was arrested for" in Google Search.
Q: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google Search.

The Answers:

1. Mik needs a new hairstyle too!!!!!!! [funny i should come across that- i've just cut my hair]

2. Mik looks like he's watched one too many Ali-G videos

3. Mik says Christmas is almost here HURRAY

4. Mik wants his films to be like 'incidents in space' where the viewer becomes part of the installation, another actor in a complicated series ... [whoever this Mik is, he's very much like myself]

5. With these pictures Mik does not convey a view of human beings shaping actively the world – instead they seem to have become the objects of a process out of control.

6. Mik hates Linux [I never even used Linux]

7. mik asks a vital question [as always]

8. Mik likes building tools that offload our brains and make it easier to get creative work done. [not sure about the building tools, but creative work is a score]

9. Mik eats a dumpling

10. Even Mik wears a coat & gloves!

11. Mike was arrested for a lot of things ["mik was arrested for" - did not match any documents.]

12. Mik loves the Bats [according to the site Bats is a band from New Zealand]

I tag:

Laetitia [because I know you're into such things]

Stef (Afef) [because you update ever so often]

*source: wikipedia

Third Time Lucky... mon cul

2009-01-25T22:31:00.004+01:00

The first time it's all panic and stress.
The second time it's deja vu- slight panic and negligible stress.

You'd think that the third time the same thing reoccurs you would have everything under control... that's not the case.

Remember the last time? It wasn't too long ago: Christmas Day (/2008/12/putting-the-x-in-xmas.html).

***

The plan was to visit the old part of the town with a friend; a place I have not yet been too. It was turning out to be a beautiful day, thus perfect for photography. However plans were quickly changed when I began having a shower.

My weak shoulder gave in as I reached out to grab the shower head. Fortunately this time I had a friend to call, instead of the well-aquainted Firemen (who came for me the previous two times). Seb was here within 20minutes.

He tried calling friends with cars, but they were either asleep or not available at that moment. He ended up calling 112 on my behalf. From hindsight this was a mistake. This is a lesson for all: WHEN IN PAIN CALL THE EMERGENCY SERVICES YOURSELF... or else, read the following.

Since it was my Seb that called, the 112 team did not react to my case as urgently as the previous times. They passed us onto the 15 team (emergency doctors). These are not as well equipped since their cases are usually not so urgent. Seeing that I was conscience and assisted by a a friend my case was classified as non-urgent.

"We'll be there within 30-45mins," they informed us.

What! I couldn't support the pain for that long! ... but I had too.

We decided to plan ahead and prepare ourselves at the lobby of my residence so no more time would be wasted once they arrive. Getting out of my room, into the elevator and out into the lobby was a very difficult and painful feat.

In the lobby we found the residence concierge. He's not really a concierge, just an oridinary castmember like myself who passes most of his free time in the lobby talking to people. He's popular. He has a very flambouyant, outgoing character. Always passing jokes.

Not surprisingly he was gay.

"Hey goodlooking! Too much sex last night?"

"Nah, I dislocated my shoulder."

And that's when he noticed the colour of my hand, "Look at your hand! Its blue! Bloody hell, lemme massage it for you."

He got onto his knees and began rubbing my hand inbetween his already very creamy hands.

He began talking; serious blabbing. His sentences were full of sexual innuendo and frankly I wasn't in the mood.

We passed such a long time in the lobby that I probably met half of the residents entering/ exiting. And seeing that I was with Mr Popular -who knows everyone of us- I was introduced. Although we live in the same building I have never come across any of them. There was this one petite girl, cute and sweet, who decided to stay with us to keep us company and support us me.

Popular, as I shall call him for lack of knowlegde of his proper name, was doing his best to keep the sexual innuendo going. He began a sort of quiz,

"Are you hetero?; DO you like big boobs?; How do you like your girls?" His technique actually worked and for a moment I was gigiling along with the girl and forgot about my pain.

An hour later the Ambulance arrives. New faces this time- and new attitudes.

"Sir let me do my job," one of them told me arrogantly, after I told him to be a bit gentler pulling my arm. In the end they turned out to be to great men- very helpful, gentle, caring and sympathetic (in its original definition).

At the hospital the doctor was one I did not know.

He began to explain the procedure we were going to undergo. Compared to the previous times this sounded barbaric. It's when I asked, "are you not going to sedate me like last time?" did I notice his name on his badge: Dr Lovwasky (or something). And though I don't want to seem like a rascist I began to get a bad feeling about this.

The plan was to place my armpit on the back-rest of a chair and the doc would pull my arm.

Despite everything... it didn't hurt a bit. In fact I'm proud that he used such a practical method.

I've got a dreadful 3 weeks off from work as a result.

Half is more than Full

2009-01-24T21:48:00.002+01:00

I was asked, by those authorised to ask, to come into to work today.

"We need you for at least half a day," they pleaded.

The amount of times I have worked on the weekend since I began making dreams come true can be counted on one hand. Back when I started, back when I was uneasy at work I used to associate the weekend with trouble, or plainly "a shit day". The parks were always packed and waiting time in the queue would at times exceed 100minutes!!

I was glad to see that my days off had been fixed to Saturday, Sunday and Monday (we get three days off). Working on weekdays was slightly calmer. However recently it had gotten too calm. So calm that time would stand still (no pun intended*). Thus when the opportunity to get some action was offered I accepted without hesitation. I agreed to work half a day, to avoid a a knackering day.

From hindsight I would say that the day was an exciting one. However, living it minute by second was as stressfull and as action-packed as a full work day at the Tower of Terror.

It all began with me waking up late. My body clock was not used to getting up before 10am on weekends. Getting to the station I was unaware that transport is less frequent. Finally getting to work, still in sleep mode, I'm given a surprise quiz... all because some numbskull got his Disney Codes confused; he called the Firemen to deal with an abandoned bag, when he should have called the Security guys. Having said that, confusing the two codes, 43 and 53 is pretty easy.

We opened our doors gates to the public and the real action began. Through out the 5 hours that I worked, three times did we experience code101 (=out of order); one for each of the three elevator shafts. At one time we were running the attraction with only one elevator shaft, i.e. 2 elevators... which forced us to cycle-down (i.e. close our gates to the public, but let the public already in the waiting line stay in and finish the attraction).

One 101 was so difficult to deal with we had to call the Firemen to intervene during an evacuation of guests from the ride- that was a first at this attraction.

Another 101 was caused by a bag flying out of the elevator and onto the balcony of the tower- another first...for me at least.

I also witnessed an incredible amount of wheel-chaired guests coming to the tower. Chair bound guests can only ride one particular elevator and only one can ride at any one time.

I re-ignited my anti-work-weekend syndrome while shutting down the FastPass ticketing system. The guests don't stop asking questions. And although they would have already heard the answer to their question because I would have just answered the same question from the guest before them they still want to hear it said to their face. The guests don't seem to understand that Fastpass is a supplementary service and technically not paid for (I say technically because entrance tickets may be considered expensive). Neither do the guests seem to understand that in order to keep the FastPass lane fast tickets need to be limited- imagine if every guest could get a FP ticket... what is the point!?

All this, plus the usual troubles of guest-situations, guests jumping the queue and causing trouble... is more than I see in my entire week. And all I did was five hours on Saturday. I can only begin to imagine what a full work day is like on a Sunday.

*many episodes of The Twilight Zone (basis of my attraction) are based on the idea of time standing still.

Disney Discriminates

2009-01-19T15:33:00.005+01:00

I now know what it felt like to be a black man back in the 20's. Because of my nationality Im not permitted to work in a place of my choice, albeit my capabilities.

I have wanted to do what I did earlier this afternoon for a long time; ever since I first heard of this blacklist*.

This isn't about Disney discriminating against ugly people. That is a well-known, understandable fact. Just like a modelling agency, Disney has got to choose attractive people from lesser attractive folk. This kind of discrimination (which really shouldn't be called so) is perfectably undertsandable when a company like Disney survives off good marketing campaigns.

The discrimination I want to talk about is one more serious. A kind that made/makes me feel like a black from the 20s.

***

I walked into the Disney Casting department, and walked up to the receptionist.

I introduced myself and proceded to ask for information regarding work at the Walt Disney World in Florida. She produced a form from one of the shelves.

"You must read this application form, sign it and send it back to us by the end of this month together with a Cover Letter in English and your CV in English," she informed me.

I had already read a copy of this application form, from one of my friends and thus already had a question to ask her.

"Here," pointing to a paragraph on the form, "it says: potential candidates must be native residents of the UK, Italy, Germany, France, Morocco, etc. My country of origin is not listed."

"And that is...?"

"Maltese. I am from Malta."

"Ahh," she said in a -we've-got-ourselves-a-bit-of-a-problem tone. "I'm afraid you cannot apply."

And here is where I began my argument. An argument I had been planning for the last three days. An argument I had perfected like a monologue infront of my mirror this very morning.

I began on a soft note: asking whether I can represent another country instead, say the UK.

"Non." I insisted that I was capable of speaking English fluently, and have very good knowledge of British culture.

I then took another step: I asked if I can work in anyother part of the Walt Disney World, it doesn't matter where. "Non"

And the forte of my argument, which came more like staccato to the young lady: "So if I undertsood you correctly, because of my natationality I cannot work in Florida. Because I am Maltese I am restricted from taking advantage of the benefits French castmembers have."

"Yes. that's right."

Malta is a European Union member. It is written that each resident from any member state should be treated equally, as though a member from that foreign state. Thus, why does the USA not recognise the EU as one UNITED group of STATES (just as the USA is). Why can a French man work, but a Maltese man not?

Disneyland Resort Paris, employs more non-French castmembers than French.

Walt Disney World is no-where near this figure, yet it insists on calling itself DISNEY WORLD, when it should just be DISNEY USA!

***

Disney vs Ugly People: http://marquettehomelandsecurity.blogspot.com/2006/10/disney-discriminates-against-ugly.html

*Blacklist is not an official Disney term. It's what I call those nationalities not on The List.

Castmembers from Hong Kong

2009-01-19T13:06:00.004+01:00

Yesterday we re-welcomed a new castmember to Disneyland Paris.

They're actually a group of three, but the other two were too knackered to go out; you don't blame them: a 14hour flight is no joke.

Ela, and the rest are from Disneyland HONG KONG. They're here to play the face-character of Mulin, in Disneyland's new Mickey Mouse Parade- at the Walt Disney Studios (my park!).

Check out the facebook album for more photos of the evening

Come back soon to see Ela&Co. in costume.

It's a French Thing

2009-01-15T23:36:00.005+01:00

Once every so often we come across something which hits us as "So French."

The same happens back in Malta. We say "Only in Malta" when witnessing something ridiculous, say: a traffic Warden issuing a fine to a police for having parked the police car unlawfully.

I've always said, and will keep saying until proven wrong, that contrary to what people think/say the French are very much alike the Americans. (I won't go into the details of that tonight.) The French want to be American. Just like a girl of 13 years following her pop idol, France looks up to America.

A case in point is: enforcement of data protection and a right to anonymity. Only to discover that France is finding it hard to respect the latter. Keep in mind that France was at one time ruled by Kings; times when anonymity was inexistent; when eavesdropping was a paid profession. Although that was a long time ago, its in their blood to want to know "who did what?"

The funny little people who make up the inhabitants of this little, comedicaly-amusing country belive that they can fool people into anonymity. Read the letter below, most importantly the highlighted part (which I translated below)

highlight: This questionnaire is anonymous. Your personnel access code is: # Censored

To me its purely an oxymoron. Its saying "This survey is anonymous. So anonymous that we're giving you a personal code, a unique code that belongs to you and no one else. This way we'll be able to know that its you who voted in such a manner, anonymously"

Long live the French.

Tunisian, a Chinese and a Maltese

2009-01-12T00:22:00.007+01:00

Doesn't the title sound like the opening to one of those racial jokes.

Or, in our case "There was an ~~Arab~~ Muslim, a Buddhist, and a Catholic" would have been a better introduction.

Indeed we were three men, all of different races and cultures, spending the night together, watching an American movie. It is night's like this that make me feel so fortunate to be working at Disneyland.

That however was the end of my day...

The memories of my morning are taken up by Eastern women asking "Speak english?"

Women in rags, probably refugees that I reckon emigrated (or is it immigrated?) from Bosnia or Kosovo at time of war. Although I would have been the first person to answer with a big loud "Yes! I do speak English, how may I help you?" I had learnt, very well (if I may so myself) from experience.

Saying Yes I Can will lead you into trap, one not unlike a SPAM email from an allegedly richman in Africa. The lady shoves a letter into your hands. The smile you wore when you exclaimed your knowledge of the international langugae qucikly fades away as you being to understand what you're reading.

"I am a poor woman from Bosnia. I have 3 young children. I have no food and no money. Please give me 1euro, 2 euros, or a restaurant ticket to survive."

I learnt to ignore beggars begging for money. But these woman, who I always bump into outside Notre Dame are just annoying. They follow you all around the piazza until you answer.

Walking around trying to find my next subject to shoot, I noticed a group of these women talking. For the first time I saw them as an ordinary group of old ladies chatting on a Sunday afternoon, taking their children for a stroll. That image was quickly repainted as the younger of the ladies noticed my interest and asked me The Question.

At first I didn't respond. I kept walking aimlessly. As expected she repeated.

I turn around towards her with an expression of 'oh! you're talking to me. I'm so sorry.' And she repeated The Question a third time. "No," I said in a way that seemed I was cleaning my shoulder of dust.

She stood still. Staring at me with what I believe was a look of despise (perhaps hate). I kept walking ahead.

"Nice Adidas shoes you have," she said. Which surprised me. And to be honest she caught me off guard, and was about to lose my cool.

But casually, in what seemed to be James Bond style, and what felt like slow motion, I looked over my shoulder and lipped a very articulate "Th-an-k yo-u." I must have come across as a sensual, sex appealing playboy the way my teeth bit my tongue to noiselessly pronounce the 'TH', and the way my lips pressed together ready for a kiss when formualting the 'you'.

Frozen on the Lake

2009-01-10T19:50:00.002+01:00

I found it funnily strange to see the village ducks unable to go for a paddle and thus walk on the frozen lake. Coming from Malta I've never seen such a show.

(click to enlarge)

Picture was taken at the DISNEY VILLAGE, by the mountain where the Hurricanes Dicotheque is. We're talking about Disneyland Paris.

115: one-fifteen

2009-01-09T21:58:00.004+01:00

Here in Paris we're currently experiencing the coldest weather they've experienced in a very long time. Last Tuesday 6 January was one of the coldest days recorded.

The beauty of the snow was a distraction from the freezing temperatures. The alcohol still running through my blood from a heavy night of drinking days back helped me bare the frostbite-inducing temperatures. Here, however, is a story about someone I ashamedly forgot to think about over this festive season...

IT WAS LATE in the evening, not far from midnight. It was cold, very cold. He was alone on a bench in the children's park. He was barely covered... thus I called 115. A short, sweet but repetitive piece of music calmed my despair of seeing someone sleeping outside during this period of feasts when we, with all carefree attitude, wake up in the warmth of our home...

"Above all, do not hang up. One of our personnel we'll take your call momentarily..."

After 20minutes of waiting a young lady picks up. I explain the situation to her. She asks me to hold on. Finally she explains that the 115 team "cannot intervene to help the man because he is in an enclosed area," and in their books that means he is "OK!"

I insisted, but she exclaimed, "if you believe the person is in danger you have to call the police."

Of course! How stupid can I get? The 115 number is only there for the homeless and this poor man is not homeless because he's in the warmth of the square!

I am disgusted... and very sad that I couldn't do anything to help this SDF (Sans Domicile Fixe- homeless).

*115 is a French national hotline designated to help people with 'social difficulties'

TADEO First Original

2009-01-05T20:12:00.005+01:00

A few days ago I blogged about a Castmember who like myself has lots of free time on his hands after a day creating magic at the Resort. A castmember who has utilised that free time wisely enough to gain something out of it.

A few days ago I blogged about a castmember who set up his own Fanpage on Facebook and started uploading cover versions of popular rock tunes.

Today I shall blog about the very same castmember.

Today, however, I shall blog about his first original single.

It's called RUSH.

I'm not a fan of rock, but this is good. Very good indeed.

Check out his Facebook Fanpage: http://www.facebook.com/pages/TADEO/109883650439?ref=ts

YES Man

2009-01-03T12:37:00.002+01:00

I watched YES Man.
It's not a goo0d film for many reasons.

It reminds me of Liar Liar (a great film) for the basic plot of the film:

-Liar Liar- A lawyer who cannot tell a lie.

-Yes Man- A loan banker who cannot say no to accepting bank loans.

After watching the first 20minutes you know exactly what's going to happen, be it the scenario with a homeless guy, pretty woman, old toothless sexmad lady...

As I watched Yes Man, I observed two things:

(1) Jim Carrey is heroic at trying to keep the movie alivem, and succeeds when he is freee to be goofy and not locked into saying yes and experiencing the consequences;

(2)It is no news that Zooey Deschanel is a splendid actress and a great beauty!

Read this Review for more info: http://boxoffice.com/reviews/2008/12/yes-man.php

Unexpected beauty

2009-01-03T01:13:00.002+01:00

The streets were dark. Road signs were lit only by the reflection from the car's headlamps.

We kept passing signs which indicated that point was the end of that particular town. I counted 4 of these signs.

The driver, a killer of a woman aged 26 had no clue were we where heading. She kept her eyes on the car infront of us that we had been following for the last 15minutes.

The passanger, a 3o year-old man who is not yet aware he's currently passing through a premature midlife crisis, was suffering from stomach cramps.

All five of us, including the two others in the car we were following had just finished eating at a Turkish restaurant. Strangely we were the only customer's that evening. We were off to a town just outside the city, Crecy La Chapelle. We were heading there to help Michael move house, as he is moving in with Mabrook for a month until he leaves for Hong Kong.

It was after a long (very long) stretch of light-less road did we discover a welcoming sign. Bienvenue Crecy La Chapelle was written in black on a white painted board of wood. Evidently we were no longer in the city.

"Do they speak French here?" Asked Sebastian, wondering if we were still in France.

I on the other hand was mesmerised by the scenary, albeit the darkness. Houses made of bricks, and roofs built of wood. Chiminies blowing smoke, and drain pipes on the facade of buildings. Cats perched on rooftops, and plants hanging down from the windows.

"This is France," I remarked, "this is what I always imagined. A real town."

Looking up at the night sky I was shocked to see it so well lit. Thousands of little white lights shinning brightly, looked like dust in the air.

Back home Disney's bright night lights (imagine the spot light used to call Batman) make it impossible to see anything in the sky.

I think I've fallen in love with the town. I can't wait for Michael to invite me home.

Having said that Anne and Sebastian couldn't have felt more like fish out of their bowl. Dark streets, wooden doors, a metal key, unpainted ground road signs is not their thing. They come from Chessy where thanks to Disneyland streets are well-lit, doors are either made of glass or aluminum, to enter your home its either a digi-code or a magnetic card...

We were out of cute Crecy La Chapelle quicker than I would have liked to leave.

Next time i'll take my new Nikon.

Friend Releases first Single

2009-01-02T11:46:00.002+01:00

When your talent is a rare and cherished one you are well taken care of by the Disney company.

Your pay is high and your work hours are little.

Michael Tadeo happens to fall into that category. Fortunately he has used his time wisely. He has created an album of songs he recorded himself. With just a MAC and a guitar he has made a musician out of himself.

So far he has only releases one track: Man in The Mirror (Cover Version Michael Jackson).

But he has informed me that every other week he shall upload a new tune.

Check out his Official Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/TADEO/109883650439?ref=nf

Or Youtube profile: http://www.youtube.com/tadeotv

An Angle to Avoid

2008-12-30T20:47:00.002+01:00

Home from a day of photography in Paris. I'm here only for 5 minutes, as I'm rejoining my friends for dinner. But there's something I have to say:

Whenever you are in Paris NEVER EVER, no matter what the circumstances are... NEVER go to

L'ANGLE CAFE.

This cafe is found just off the Champs Elysee.

It is the most unfriendly place I have yet set foot in this ever more suprisingly unfriendly city.

The bartender, who is also the owner of the place talks to you as though he wants to eat you alive. And apart from that when he does talk to you, he talks to the entire room. He makes sure everyone understand your order.

I'll narrate my story after supper.

Have a good night.

Putting the X in Xmas

2008-12-25T21:59:00.005+01:00

The only reason that makes me believe this morning's events were not deja-vu is the fact that the original episode was recorded in detail on this very blog (post/11/2008/caution-wishes-do-come-true).

The very same accident. At approximately the same time of the day. With the same state of room (a pigsty). Same call for help. Same source of help. The only difference was that this time I knew what was happenning. This time I was... expierenced.

When I called Emergency number 112 I knew exactly what to say. I had learnt how to say my injury in French. When the Firemen arrived I knew what documents they were after, and in what order. I gave the lot to them before they asked for it, in the order they would have asked for it.

The only difference was that this time the conversation between me and the fireman with me in the back of the ambulance was one of "old mates catching up", rather than last time's theme of "new friends in the making to try make you feel better."

This evening that fireman, who happened to be the very same young man form the other time would eat with his family and narrate the story of how a patient returned to his aid for the same injury. I highly doubt the man from Normandy (his origins) would ever forget 'the guy from the tower of terror,' or 'the Maltese.' Twice in less than 2 months is more times than many soldiers see their family!

When the doctor asked me to walk to the Radiologist and began to cite directions, I interrupted him with "to the right, along the corridor, second Hall on your right." Not much changes in 2 months.

When I asked the hospital to call me a taxi home, I already knew the ride home was going to cost me €25.30. I also anticipated the taxi driver giving me an 30cent discount on account of being short of change from €30.

'Tis shall be one of those unforgettable anecdotal Christmasses I so often seem to live through.

A Magical Night for and by the Makers

2008-12-19T00:36:00.002+01:00

I couldn't let this evening pass without sharing my experience.

I'm writing this post at 00.46, thus in my mind it's still the evening of the previous day (Thurday 18 December), and not the early morning of Friday 19.

I have just returned from work. Tonight was a slightly extraordinary night. We had a Special Event: a party was organised by Disney for all Cast Members. It began at 20.00 and ended at 23.30. The party was held at the Walt Disney Studios (my park) and 3 of the major attractions were open for the fete: Crush's Coaster, Rock 'n' Roller Coaster, and The Hollywood Tower Hotel (my attraction).

I was not at all looking forward to the evening. From the moment I signed in my shift at 2pm I wasn't feeling all too well about what was to happen in the coming hours. It soon became clear that my sentiments were shared by nearly all my colleauges. None of us wanted to face fellow castmembers and try to 'imagine' they're ordinary guests: what's the point of making magic when they know how its made? why should we fake a toothy smile when they know very well 'smiley' is not how we really feel?

Anyways, for five whole hours I was cursing my Karma! How unlucky could I be to work on a special event for castmembers, when I could be having fun myself!

BUT, no matter how shitty my mood was, I was prepared. I was prepared to be made fun of, prepared to be pissed off, prepared to be insulted, prepared for anything. I had brought with me my white gloves (which i only use for special occasions, compliments my costume very nicely, and makes me somewhat different from the others); I had bought a golden medallion earlier that day to use in one of my 'animations' (an short improvised sketch done infront of guests while they wait- this is done because according to Walt Disney himself ppl who are entertained while waiting think they've been waiting for less time than they actually did-- make 10 mins seem like 5mins).

5 mins before 20.00 and my mood was already better, albeit only slightly. I was informed that Mark, Viven and Eloisa were joining the Team. Mark and Viven are from the TOP- big guys; guys with a pay cheque I can only imagine. They come from the Guest Saftey department (i.e. Disney's most important department). Eloisa is an ex-Team Leader of the Tower of Terror team. She moved to a different department around a month ago, but rejoined us tonight to help us out. All three are great people to work with, and since its been a long time since we last spoke working side by side will make time pass by quicker.

Indeed time did pass quickly, but it wasn't because i spent time talking to old pals- in fact I found no time to ask more than "How's life good behind a desk?" I found myself enjoying the evening as much as the partying castmembers. All the excitement made my subconscious sharper than ever, and ended up saying witty lines I would never have thought of had I actually thought about them.

"How long is the queue?" Asked one very pretty girl, clearly from the Character&Parade department.
"Around 10 mins, young lady," I replied with charm (its part of the character, and not me flirting).

"Ohh," she sighed, "that's too long for me... in this cold."

She looked at me deep into my eyes. I smiled; my mind was blank I couldn't react, so i continued to smile.

"Is there any chance that I may pass through the FastPass (fast entrance, skipping the queue)?"

"I'm afraid not. You're not a princess tonight." Saying that last line I shocked myself... and few of her friends.

"But I AM a princess."

"Really?" I was surprised to hear I guessed right. "But I'm afraid tonight you're not a princess."

"Fine then. I'll go freeze." And off she and her friends went to join the queue.

Moments later she grabs my attention by waving majestically across the Lobby.

"Hey you, my I have your picture?"

.... and I'll stop here with this episode.

Inside the actual Tower it was somewhat chaotic. Liftiers (the one incharge of the elevator) were dispatching elevators at accelorated speeds; Groupers were grouping people as fast as the Liftiers could shoot them off into the Twilight Zone; and the Groom was controlling the flow and direction of people as best as his eye-coordination could allow. In fact we added a 2nd Groom tonight (first time).

At one time I was a Groom and helping to control the distribution of guests. During pauses, when guests would have to wait until boarding I would began a bit of animation. There was this English girl: tall and blonde, clearly she was a princess. After she begged me to save her a place in the front we got to talking.

"You know what, you? You would make a great Aladdin."

When she said that I felt so flattered: 1) because a 'professional' was speaking (a princess!)

2) its not the first time I've been told that, back in Malta some girls used to call me Aladdin because they couldn't pronounce my name.

That evening I met this same girl and her boyfriend three or 4 times, and each time she would either shout "Hey its Aladdin!" or start singing an Aladdin tune.

All these cheerful episodes not mentioning the hundreds of snapshots by castmembers-cum-guests. This means that for once we're going to come across the pictures guests take of us on the internet, since every castmember is connected to one another somehow or another on facebook.

And obviously the rules tonight were a bit more lax than usual. Kissing between a castmember on duty (i.e. me) and a castmember as guest was permited; by kissing I mean the french bises (i.e. a kiss on each cheek). I even got a few from guys.

Another happy moment of night was the discovery of free food. Our Team Leaders brought us a pizza, packet of crisps, bottle of coke, and a piece of cake each. So very kind!

I'm knackered and shall go to sleep. Tomorrow is yet another CastMember party at the Walt Disney Studios, and yet again I'm working. Will try to edit this post from all errors tomorrow.

Bombs or Dynamite- Ecstacy just the same

2008-12-17T18:45:00.004+01:00

I had written today's entry yesterday, but left it in the drafts folder. At the time I wasn't sure if I could publish what I had written seeing it is/was pretty confidential information.

However, upon seeing that the word has gone public, I've decided to spread the news. Having said that, do not take any of the following statements as THE FACTS- do not hold me libel against mis-information-- think of the follow as just a rumour.

----

The epsisode begins with me at the tower control of the attraction. That means for the following 15-30mins I'm in charge of giving castmembers orders, answering castmember questions, calling the maintenance team for repairs, Team Leader for guest situations... and all the rest.

Today [Tuesday 16.12.2008] was a pretty quiet day. Not many people in the park, not much happening in the Tower, at least nothing extraordinary... until...

Head of Security of my park bursts into the Tower Control Room and demands an immediate inspection of the premises. Being the Director at that time I asked two available castmembers to search the building for an abandoned bag or anything suspicious, as requested by the Chief. It took them around 30minutes for them to have cleared the entire building; in the meantime the Head, his assistant, my assistant and myself got to talking.

Apparently a few minutes earlier 5 bombs [update 17.12.08: they were infact dynamite sticks] where discovered at one of Paris' largest shopping malls, Printemps. As a result, all of the city of Paris was put on high alert, and so was the Disneyland Resort Paris. For the first time since my journey began at the land of magic security men could be where positioned onstage- although you can't tell they're security unless you know what a Disney Security wears. Every single bag was being inspected upon entrance into the parks.

The Head had more inside info to share: It was an Afghan who planted the bombs, he said. Yeah right, I thought to myself, how rasict can you get? [Update 17.12.08: I take back what I said, as it was indeed an Afghan Terrorist group (to be politically correct: Reformist Group) who planted the bombs. Read below].

In the end nothing was found at the Tower, nor anywhere else in the park, thankfully- although many of us had our fingers crossed for a full-out evacuation of the park: we all wanted some excitement that day, no matter how risky.

News items from today's papers:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7788269.stm

http://www.csmonitor.com/2008/1217/p10s01-woeu.html

p.s. and here i was, thinking that living in France is one of the safest places from terrorism since interculturism is so very rich; black, white, muslim, jew living in harmony. Gotta rethink that.

A Good Excuse for an Extension

2008-12-08T00:46:00.001+01:00

What a day. What a day! What A day!!

A tour round my town by a member of the board of councilors of the town.

A meal at the newly opened Chinese restaurant in town.

Shopping at the largest mall in town.

Coffee at Starbucks, situated in the most beautiful street in town (and many towns miles around).

Its days like today that make me want to stay in France longer.

It was only a week ago that my mum and I spoke about my permenant return to Malta. We decided February should be my last month here.

After today I don't want to leave so early. After having met new people (like this councilor for example) life here may become cheerful once again; just like it was in the beginning. But its not just the fact that I had a good day that has encouraged me to change my mind... In fact I am now obliged to stay here till MARCH (2009).

I bought myself a concert ticket to PINK's European Tour of her latest Album Funhouse (which I am proud to say I downloaded legally). The concert is on the 9th March. Thus, I'm here for a month longer than previously planned.

Gotta call mum and tell her the news.

When the Magic is Lost

2008-12-01T16:40:00.007+01:00

Although this is a post about the company that employes me, it was through the media (the region's newspaper) that I got to know about the tragedy.

According to French Press Reports:

A Police investigation is underway to determine the cause of an accident in Disneyland's second park.

On Saturday (29/11/08) afternoon there was a near fatal accident at the Disneyland Resort in Paris.

A visitor to the WALT DISNEY STUDIOS, was on a Toon Studios' rollercoaster attraction when

he fell out of the carriage. The man, in his 20s (some report 21 others 25) was with his wife on Crush's Coaster.

"For some reason he thought that his harness was coming loose. Panicing he jumped some 7 metres to the ground," explained a source close to the victim. Bleeding from his head the young man was taken by emergency medics to the district hospital (Lagny-sur-Marne)- where I was hospitalised a week ago (FYI).

The moment the passenger was de-seated the ride stopped, a security measure performed in every Disney attraction. The carriage the man was in has been removed from the ride. It shall be thoroughly examined to determine whether the cause was a technical error.

Police are looking into several conclusions: the victim might have volontary jummped out; did he really have an impression of a loosening harness?; could he have been ejected from his seat mechanically?

The attraction was closed for the rest fo the day, but reopened the next morning.

Crush's Coaster was inspired by the Disney/Pixar film Finding Nemo. This attraction is unique to Paris. No other Disney park around the world (Florida, California, Tokyo or Hong Kong) has one like it. It was created by the Imagineers of Disneyland Paris and constructed by a German company, Maurer Sohne. The attraction consists of highspeed drops into the dark inside a vehicle/carriage that rotates on its own axis. The attraction itself doesn't seem to be the cause of the accident, only the victim's carriage.

sources (French Only): nouvelobs.com- http://tinyurl.com/5gk8uo

lefigaro.com- http://tinyurl.com/5kbt33

Do You Know Them?

2008-11-27T21:35:00.004+01:00

This post has nothing to do with my usual rants on the French way of life.

This is about two pretty girls who lost something I reckon is of high sentimental value.

The girls above lost an SD memory card in Valletta. If you recognise them raise your voice.

spread your smile! x

Statistics are like bikinis...

2008-11-21T12:25:00.008+01:00

...What they reveal is suggestive, but what they conceal is vital. ~Aaron Levenstein (business professor).

I came across an interesting paper published by the Eurobarometer.

The paper is an Analytical Report on the Young people and science; published October 2008.

It was "conducted to determine young people's interest in science and technology." When referring to young people one means: 15-25 year olds (note aside: thus age 26 is the official EU mark for 'OLD MAN')

Found here (opens .pdf), the reoprt is 206 pages long. Although reading the entire thing is of no particular interest to you and me, scrolling through the diagrams and Annex one comes a across a few interesting facts.

For example: 36% of young people (from all the union's 27 countries) are NOT interested at all in the universe, sky and stars. Well below the average is Malta with 19% of our young people not being interested at all.

On the other hand Malta was ranked very high- 51%, fourth position- vis-a-vis young people interested in New inventions and technologies.

The report even shows that there are clear diferences in opinion between Young Men and Young Woman; between older, more highly-educated (22-25 year-olds); respondents' place of residence (city people were more seriously interested in ICT inventions).

More interestingly was the fact that no particular differences were found between respondents of different occupational status.

--What does the following say about Malta, when compared to France?
20% of Maltese (second only to Poland with 24%) strongly agree that technology would create jobs rather than eliminate them while only 6% (the lowest ranking) of French have the same opinion. Could this be an effect of the SMARTCITY publicity.--

In the reoprt Malta (33%) is accused of "lacking high levels of awareness about innovations related to GM foods" together with Bulgaria (34%) and Sweden (33%).

On the other hand, Malta had one of the highest levels of awareness and interest in nulcear energy (58%); second to Italy (63%).

Ranking number one, leading by nearly 10% is Malta and our Awareness of and interest in mobile phones- 93%. Ireland is ranked second with 84%.

The high interest doesn't surprise me... however the actual statistic-being number one is somewhat interesting.

Respondents in Malta were not only the least likely to believe that scientists were devoted to the good of humanity, they were also the ones (together with Greece, and Cyprus) who most often thought that, due to their knowledge, scientists had power that could make them dangerous: 81%, 83% and 82%, respectively, agreed with this proposition.

The report covers a wide range of topics related to science and technology:

science education; the studying biology, engineering or medicine; the fields of study attracting most attention; most effective solution to global warming; science and tecnology: risks vs benefits... etc.

I find such papers extremely interesting. Statistics in my opinion are the closest thing to truth. Having said that, I don't mean to say they are THE TRUTH (2 years of Marketing Studies gave me an insight into what really happens during the data collection process). Statistics are like women- mirrors of purest virtue and truth, or like whores to use as one pleases. Its just that in our everyday lives we are always supposedly quoting statistics to make our thoughts/opinions infallible; Many people use statistics as a drunken man uses lampposts - for support rather than for illumination*.

Satistical QUESTION:

Who should have the largest influence on decisions about the division of research funds?

write your answers in the comment box by choosing between

Government
Citizens
EU
Scientific Community
Research Organisations

Remember to include your country; and I'll let you know what the majority of your country thinks.

*quotation by Andrew Lang (novelist)

Think you can help out?

2008-11-21T00:50:00.003+01:00

To all readers from the UK. London area, specficially.

I'm wondering if anyone out there is willing to offer accommodation for a couple of days.
All I require is a bed and clean bathroom. Breakfast, or any other meals are not necassary.
On the other hand I do ask you not to hold evening curfews- I would like to enter and leave my room as I please with no 'be back by midnight or you're locked out' restrictions.
Of course I'm willing to pay for the service and hospitality (aslong as its cheaper than all the rest I've come across so far)!

I'm planning to spend a few days in London to do the culture rounds at the theatres and attend an interview at a local company there.

No specific dates have been set. However availability should be for the month of December/January/beginning of February.

Please do contact me if you can help.

p.s. in return I might even give you free entrance tickets to the Disneyland Resort Paris Parks.

Something from Mum

2008-11-20T18:32:00.002+01:00

I decided to share with you a message my mum sent by email.

Ignoring the religious context I still find the message powerful and somewhat inspirational.

I believe it may help non-believers answer one particular question they keep asking the Church.

"Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..."
"You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted.

The surgeon looked up, annoyed "I'll cut your heart open," he continued, to see how much damage has been done..."
"But when you open up my heart, you'll find Jesus in there," said the boy.

The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly. "When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up, and I'll plan what to do next."

"But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."

The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out if I can make you well."
"You'll find Jesus there too. He lives there."

The surgeon left.

The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, '...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis' here he paused, "death within one year."

He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud. "Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and You've cursed him to an early death. Why?"

The Lord answered and said, "The boy, my lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine.
"His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow."

The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months Why?"

The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for He has done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb."
The surgeon wept...

The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?"

"Yes," said the surgeon.
"What did you find?" asked the boy.
"I found Jesus there," said the surgeon.

Author Unknown -

Today's Comic Relief

2008-11-20T02:02:00.011+01:00

After watching a YOUTUBE video where a guy comically tries to rip up the telephone directory, I read the comments. Just like reading the Letters to the Editor in a newspaper or mag I find it entertaining to read other people's reactions. Here is one worth sharing...

On this particular video, I came across the following:

First impression of the author comes from his manner of writing... in this case I gather the author is a kid aged 12 or maybe oldest 15. There was something that interested me in his username, which is clearly his real name (another act of stupidity). I decided to click through his profile page.

I'm so glad I did. It made my day. I was in fits of laughter....

Upon reading his profile info, doubts of his age are quickly sorted.

Apparently his true age is 22.

He claims that we're jealous of him, and jealous of how cool he is.

Surprisingly enough he hails from the USA (and proudly flies the flag).

What tipped me off my chair was his occuption: apparently

stunning people with one's looks has become a full time job

His interests and hobbies are the icing on the cake: the art of stunning.

Is it any wonder not one single person from the million of accounts on YouTube are subscribed to this self-acclaimed stunna?

The Films he watches are typical for someone alike.

And wny not check out the kind of books he reads, might explain his manner of writing.

p.s. this post is not meant to be racist, judgemental or prejudice in any way. I came across something comical and thought of sharing it as comic relief with you after a tedious day's work.

Caution: Wishes do Come True

2008-11-17T23:54:00.003+01:00

When you were young, did you ever dream of doing things you consider ridiculous nowadays? Did you ever wish for something you’d think twice about doing now? Did you ever have an envy to experience something but now you know better and would rather not?

“Be careful what you wish for,” they say. Dreams really do come true.

When I was a kid I always wanted to know what it would be like to call the Emergency number (112 EU/ 911 USA). I dreamt of being carried away in a state-of-the-art red ambulance (used to watch many US films), and be treated in a state-of-the-art hospital with the nicest doctors and nurses; simply because I wanted to experience it.

Today I can truthfully say that my wish came true. It may not have developed as I dreamt it, but the things I wanted to ‘experience’ I did.

At exactly 13.14 this afternoon I had the Pompiers (firemen) knocking at my door. (The firemen in France do everything- lifesavers. By that I mean, they don’t just fight-fire, as done back home). After a few phone calls by the leading firefighter to find a hospital with a free bed I was helped onto a stretcher and taken away. Here is when I lost track of time.

According to the fireman who sat beside me during the journey to hospital, “the trip is going to take 15mins. Hang in there.” He meant that literally as the ambulance kept swerving left to right; me clutching my pained shoulder.

Once at our destination, I was wheel-chaired into the Accidents & Emergency centre to be greeted by a hall full of stretchers- not one was empty. I began to feel sick.

I noticed that three of the bed-bound men came from Disney. I recognized their uniform; they were gardeners.

10 minutes later, after the Firemen exchanged all necessary papers for the hospital to help me I was then wheeled to the Radiology Centre; to get an X-RAY of my arm.

As the nurse wheeled me around from corridor to corridor, my arm in more pain than before was relieved for a few seconds. The pain relief came from a distraction in the form of high-pitched screaming. It was coming from a bed being pushed past. On it was a completely nude girl, with a tube in her arm. Nurses tried to cover up her nudity but the girl seemed to be in too much pain and kept tossing and turning, kicking and punching the air. I felt sick.

There was an old man next to me. He was in a stretcher with tubes in his nose. When the nurses spoke to him he didn’t look at them in the eye. He barely made any effort to speak audibly. Opposite me was a farmer. A man in wellington boots, and a red checked shirt (the typical kind associated with famers). His wrist was bandaged. I assumed he had hurt himself while working with farm tools.

When the Xray was done the nurse wheeled me into a waiting room and said,

“Here are your Xray results. I’m going to tell the doc to see you as quick as possible.”

I was concerned with the ‘quick as possible’ part of the sentence.

“How bad is it, nurse?” I asked.

“It’s not too bad, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”

Very reassuring, I thought.

I was transferred on to a bed and pushed into a room. This was to be my operating theatre- although no operation was necessary. Here, a very pretty nurse explained to me what was going to happen. She left the room and moments later she reappeared making a loud metal noise.

“Hehe,” she giggled, “did I scare you?”

“I’m going to put on this mask for you. It won’t make you sleep, but it will ‘turn you off’ (literal translation).” By that she meant ‘put me sense-less'. “It will make you woo woo.”

I had never been sedated before, but I had been told its “cool”. I never believed them that breathing ‘that’ could make you ‘happy’. Even as she said “make you woo woo” I didn’t take her literally.

I was wrong. I should have believed them, and I should have taken her literally. It took me 3 breaths of morphine to begin feeling loose all over. It started at my feet; I felt them drop. Then my arms; I could feel them, couldn’t tell where they were; I remembered I had one hand covering the area of the pain on the other arm, but I wasn’t sure anymore if that hand was still there. I began to think of the pain- it was still there, but I couldn’t make sense of it; the pain felt like it was coming from everywhere. Like when you have an itch on your back- You go scratch the spot bothering you, and just at that moment there’s another spot somewhere else itching, until finally your entire back is itching you- that’s how the pain felt. I decided to open my eyes; I was seeing double, things moving on there own- coming closer/farther, moving left/right. Eyes open was not a good idea. I began to think; I couldn’t remember the details of what happened in the last 3 hours- that’s when I decided that this was all a dream and I should be waking up in a few seconds.

In fact it was a few minutes later that I woke up. Unfortunately my environment had not changed.

“Bonjour Monsieur,” said the doctor who, as I opened my eyes I realized had my arm in his hands and seemed to be playing tug of war with it.

“Moan” I said, not because I was in pain, but because I knew I should be in pain.

The doc had my arm in a position that would have hurt me an hour ago.

I couldn’t focus well, and so closed my eyes.

“Come towards me! Come towards me!” The doctor kept repeating. His speech wasn’t very clear; as though someone was playing with the sound control: Loud, Soft, Loud, Soft…

I wanted to say “I’m thinking of moving but I’m not moving!”

But all they heard was “mwaaaa, mmmmaaa, moooaaa, mwwwa.”

In the end the doc had my arm in the position he wanted it to be. He tugged and twisted it into positions I never thought I was flexible enough to do.

Although heavily sedated, I did feel the ‘pop’ and it was a feeling of relief. I wanted to thank everyone in the room; but I blanked out after all was accomplished.

Moments later I found myself back in the Radiology centre, without the mask.

A second X Ray to see if all fit back into place as it should.

The nurses at the centre were all jolly this time. No one looked at me suspiciously, as if trying to figure out what’s wrong with ‘this one’.

“Feeling better sir?”

“Yes. SO much better.”

“It shows. Moments earlier you were in this room with a dead man’s eyes. And now you are smiling a young boy’s grin.” All the other nurses concurred.

As I waited for the results I saw the farmer again. We both smiled at each other. I noticed his bandage had been changed. He came over to my bed.

“Ca va mieux?”

“Yes, I’m feeling so much better.”

“It shows. Before when you were in there…” he pointed to the operating theatre I had been in. Instead of finishing off the sentence he rolled his eyes, as if to say ‘it didn’t look good at all.’ I found it was very kind of him to have been concerned for me. He made me feel warm inside.

This entire experience opened my eyes to several things, but the most impactful was the fact of how lonely I am here. While I was panic stricken at home I had no idea who to call for help. It was only out of natural instinct that I ended up calling Mum (all the way in Malta). I knew she couldn’t be of any help, but I couldn’t think of anyone to call. Fortunately she put my mind straight. I ended up calling 112, after several failed attempts at calling my residence’s reception and the emergency doctor’s line 15.

I also noticed that most of the bedded people in hospital were accompanied by partners or relatives- it made me feel so cold and lonely.

Thankfully the nurses and firemen were some of the friendliest French I’ve had opportunity to meet. Despite me being foreign, they were very patient and extra caring with me.

As soon as I was checked-out normal life slapped me in the face- or it might have been the cold chill. I was outside the hospital with no-ride home. I had to pay EUR 25.00 to get home.

Coming home...?

2008-11-16T21:27:00.002+01:00

Found some interesting prices on airmalta.com

A total of EUR 212.00 for a 5 day stay in Malta.

Price includes the hefty airport taxes, fuel surcharge and all that bull****

The dates are perfect too. 5 days starting from Thursday 18 December.

It would give me a chance to share a few days of Christmas Spirit with family and friends, but more importantly (at this time, at least) is that my managers will be happy in knowing I'd be in for work by Christmas.

Fingers crossed until Tuesday. Hope managers will accept.

Me, a Product and an Assistant

2008-11-10T19:13:00.005+01:00

Lesson#3 The French are known to have crappy service. Customer service that is.

I went to Darty's. A big -both structurally and commercially- electronics shop.

I went to buy a vacuum cleaner. Specifically, a small handheld sucker to clean the broom closet I call home.

At €20 I found a decent thing, from a reputable company.

With all my politeness I called a shop assistant. I'd figured he hadn't much to do at the time, since he was texting away on his mobile. Using paid company time for business other than company business is not only practiced at home I gather.

I expressed my interest in the 'vacuum in hand' (literal translation) I had my eye on.

The old man, who gelled his hair skywards rather than backwards informed me that the item is exhausted (literal translation).
"How convenient," I said out loud. Truthfully, I was thinking 'yeah right. I know this sales pitch; you're going to make me buy a more expensive one.'

"What?" He said so, impolitely. (Think on terms of ‘what the […] did you just say?’)
I acted as though for that second I had forgotten I was in France. I excused myself for speaking in English and continued with, "What about this one?"

This time I was pointing towards a handheld vacuum cleaner several Euros cheaper, and evidently several models older.
"That too." Meaning, that's out of stock as well. "What I can give you is the expo."
I asked him to define expo and apparently it means 'the one off the shelf.'
"How much would that cost?" I enquired, thinking it was a genuine question to ask taking into consideration the item is not in mint condition- since its packaging has been opened.
"What?" And the look he gave me was the did-you-translate-your-english-thought-question-in-to-french-properly- look.

I explained to him that the item I'm requesting had already been opened and used by others, and was wondering if there's any chance of a discount.

He looked me straight into my eyes, for what felt like a long time. Then he looked straight at the plastic sucker, for what felt like another long time... until he finally shook his head, which made his chubby cheeks bounce and said "Non." This had a slight tone of disgust.

To be honest I was taken aback: Back home to the humble Maltese shopkeeper who would be more than happy to knock off a euro or two to get rid of the display item (usually the hardest to sell).

With the same politeness I used to begin my relationship with the sales-assistant I ended it.
"Thank you all the same, Monsieur. Have a good evening."
Unbelievably the man just nodded and left.

He didn't even wish me a good evening.
If I were French I would be offended. Frankly, I've been here 8 months already and I do feel slightly offended... am I becoming French?

Could this have anything to do with the fact that I disturbed him from text messaging his mistress in Toulouse?

A day full of Kudos -- Part III

2008-11-02T22:54:00.002+01:00

(continued from... PartII)

French people have no excuse not to understand a word of English. In fact most of the time French people are being overly modest when they reply "a little bit" to the all common tourist question "Parley- vous anglay?"

After mass, and a meal at Mc Donalds on the Champs-Elysee I went to watch a film, on the same avenue. The film: Mama Mia, was the only one showing in less than hours time.

The good thing about French Cinema is that the film distributors distribute the oringal version of the film. That means: if the film is in english, in english will you see it. Next to the title one will notice VO or VF. One being Version Originale (which includes French subtitles) and the other Version Francais. Even more intertesting is the fact that most prime-time films (i.e. films shown at 7pm onwards) are shown in VO format-- which generally means english.

The previous day I had gone to the cinema also (to watch a very well done film Vicky Cristina Barcelona) and I noticed one thing in common between the two cinemas. To get to the actual theatre (screening hall, or whatever you want to call it) one must walk through a very (x10) narrow tunnel, which curves and wiggles along the way- thus you never know what's ahead of you. This is probably a passage in between two theatres (screening halls). In Malta things are very different... the passageways are huge compared to these... by French standards you can fit an entire theatre into one passage at Eden Century Cinemas (St Julians, Malta).

Having said that I was literally gobsmacked when the winding corridor came to an end. We ended up in a tiny room! I thanked my good karma for having thought ahead of time. Imagine a cinema SMALLER than the cinema at St James Cavalier, Valletta! Imagine a hall smaller than the Music Room at St James Cavalier!

There was only one aisle. That means people could only get in/out from one side. My first thoughts were: if someone needed to use the toilet halfway through the show he'd need to make the entire row stand-up so that he could exit. And stand-up again when he would return. So immediately I targetted a seat by the wall. I new I wasn't going to need the toilet, and this way I had no chance of being interrupted.

Not surprisingly the theatre filled up fast. There were a few later-comers who caused some caos. Since it is in human nature to ALWAYS leave an empty seat between one and the next person, these odd single seats would be in the most difficult of places to reach. Hence late-comers were asking people to move-up one seat, get up to get to the one odd seat... etc... By the end of it, the entire cinema was full, every seat taken.

The film itself was a great family film. It put me into an even better mood. After every number I had a great urge to clap out loud... instead I satisfied my need to show appreciation by tapping my thumbs together.

My understanding on the French species was about to get a whole lot better in the theatre too.

For some odd reason the moment Pierce Brosnan sang one of his solo's the entire audience burst into a fit of laughter. At first I thought it was the song, or the theme, or the way the choegraphy was done to suit the song and the plot-making it slightly comedic. But that wasn't it.

When Monsieur Brosnan began to sing a more serious, more sentimental number they still burst into fits. And then I began to think that most probably the French were seeing Bond go soft. I began to think that the French were understanding his character as a kind of Bond parody- a romantic Bond (with a heart).

OK I admit. Seeing Pierce Brosnan sing AND dance was new to me too. And I agree it may have been funny. But that doesn't expalin the audience's rib-aching laughter- as though it was an intended joke.

check out part I and part II

A day full of Kudos -- Part II

2008-11-02T21:17:00.009+01:00

(continued from... PartI)

For the first time since I got to this Republic famous for its French Postcards* I attended Mass. In fact I was 10minutes early. Indeed I was very pleased with myself. Little did I know this was going to be a great opportunity to learn more about the French and their Lifestyle (my lifelong goal is to write a book on allthings French- see profile).

The place - which just in case you were wondering was: Notre Dame de Paris - was more packed than I was expecting, I'll elaborate on this later. To be honest I don't consentrate much (spiritually) in the larger churches (aka Cathedrals). In fact, back home I was fortunate enough to have lived in Valletta and thus got a chance to attend mass at most of the churches in the city. It was clear that at Santa Barbara's, found on Republic Street, one feels most 'one with the Spirit'. And at places like St. Karmnu, on Old Theatre Street, or at St.John's Co-Cathedral I would find myself day-dreaming.

Totally unintentional, I had chosen the hour for the International Mass. By international they mean: First reading done in English (by a French Altar boy who could do with a few extra lessons, but did his best reading the old, difficult Bible English), all other readings and homely are done in French, and singing (or should it be chanting?) is done in Latin. That is international to the French. Typical.

However, one ought to give them credit for the folio handed to the congregation which had translations of the readings in French, English, German, Italian and Spanish.

Back to a word on the singing/chanting bit. It was accompanied by a beautifully constructed but not as beautifully played organ. Before Mass actually started there was a 5 minute entré, which I swear to you was played to ward off evil spirits! I can't imagine such ear-piercing tunes could attract the angels from the heavens!

One thing that impressed me so much that its worth noting was the slightly-less-than-majority of the large congregation was made up of young people- mainly referring to the 20-30 yr olds age bracket. Back in Malta I was used to a congregation of kids and grannies- though that may be because I lived in Valletta, which has an ageing population.

SHARING THE PEACE was hand shaking business. I was once told that in France men and women must kiss on each cheek-- I wasn't sure if this was the mode here. So when the priest announced we may exchange signs of peace I took a good 5 seconds to react. In this time i observed those around me. No cheek-kissing except for members of the same family.

My next feat was the phrase to say. I wasn't going to literally translate "Peace be with you" as it doesn't sound right in French. I decided to stick with the response "Also with you", as the literal translation sounded pretty good "...avec vous aussi."

There was yet another problem to come.

As I extended my arm, going in for the exchange of peace I was waiting for my neighbour to begin the phrase (Peace be with you, in French)... but like me he was expecting to say the response. So both of us didn't say anything and I just smiled. The same thing happened with the next neighbour, and I began to think that none of the people around me were actually French. Like me they too probably had no idea what to say. Thus our sharing of peace turned out to be a handshake and a smile. Typically French actually, when I think about it.

PRAYERS AFTER COMMUNION. After I recieved the Holy Sacrement I went back to my place. This was no easy feat. The lines for communion were indeed typically French: unorganised- verging to the definitions of a 'crowd'.

There was no space to kneel down. So, sitting down I spread my legs, leant forward, head down, hands cupped to my mouth, eyes closed and recited my prayers to the soundtrack of organ-mouning and the clicks of snaping cameras.

Few moments later, when the organ stopped its loud, unrythmic play signaling the end of communion I got up to sit properly.

As I did so the I noticed something was missing... half the congregation had left the mass! Not-OIM (only in Malta), I thought to myself.

*French Postcard: link should been seen accompanied by an adult.

A day full of Kudos -- Part I

2008-11-02T19:24:00.004+01:00

With the extra cash I had saved up in previous month I was feeling an extra bit generous.

As I found a comfy seat on the train destined for Paris, the usual happened.

A long comes a beggar and places a yellow card on the opposite seat. The card, printed recto-verso reads something along the lines of:

"Help. I am a beggar with no food or shelter. Please be kind enough to spare €1, €2 or a restaurant ticket (popular in France- non-existant in Malta)."

The backside would read the same albeit in French.

However, unlike usual times this beggar was a boy. One younger than my 15yr old brother. He was probably the son of a beggar, and joined the family 'business' having given up a chance at proper life (NB. education in France is free, and obligatory until 16yrs old- thus, like in Malta there is no reason to be 'un-educated'). Or he might have been a orphan and escaped the orphange to join a clan of beggars. Whatever his case, he is definitely the son of no-mother.

I usually ignore such beggars... and gave up donating to them after my first month of travelling back and forth to Paris. I had realised beggars were going to be a common acquaintance during my trips to the City and would make me euro-centless by the end of the month. However, in my jolly, generous mood I picked out €2 and handed it to him.

It was only at the next station, when he got off, did a strange thought occur to me.

A thought that actually frightened me:

Did I just pay €2 to finance a criminal ring?

Staring TinkerBell

2008-10-27T21:26:00.003+01:00

Either Disney is really desperate to sell more DVDs and have run out of ideas and are thus revamping old time favorites...
Or Disney have some major super cool marketing scheme up their sleeves

TinkerBell is not only the name of the world's most loved fairy, but is now also the name of Disney's latest release!

Having just seen the trailer it seems to lack that special Disney magic the real classics contain.

Even the way its made- its all CGI animation thus making it look like a Barbie movie only with a Disney trademark.

Plot

From what I understood after watching the trailer is that it's a sort of prequel to Peter Pan. A prequel which is infact an introduction to Tinker Bell. Who is she? What is she? Where does she come from? etc.

The bottom line of the film (like many Disney films) is: belief.

"faries travel to the world of children and inspire their belief"

Cast

Is not made up of any of the big guys.

Tinker Bell, who interestingly enough is not credited first, is voiced by Mae Whitman.

Ms Whitman is the young girl that keeps appearing in most of the popular TV series' such as: Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives and Family Guy.

*official UK site: http://www.disney.co.uk/DisneyOnline/fairies/

Seeing $$$

2008-10-26T21:16:00.005+01:00

It's nearly the end of the month and for the first time since my arrival I'm seeing figures.

The end of each month for the last six months was difficult to get through, financially.

It's well known that Disney don't pay well. At least not well enough for the standard of living in the region. One can't blame Disney anyway. They've got over 12 000 full time employees to pay, an additional 3 000 or so part-timers, and at least 8 000 seasonal contracts (for the summer, Christmas or Easter periods). And to make things clearer, as it is not my intention to defame my employer, to compensate for the low-pay with high-living standards Disney castmembers are offered a number of price advantages in the regional shops.

Few examples:

some clothing shops (in the region) give as much as 70% off on price tags
we save 1EUR on every meal from (the region's) McDonald's.
60% reimbursed transport fees (travelling in this region)
discounted lodging/accommodation (in the region)

Still, I never managed to save any money from my wage. Having said that I have never touched the money from my Maltese account neither. The Disney pay is made to perfection. I would end up spending all but 30EUR- 80EUR per month. Until this month...

The month is not yet over, but still I have a 3-digit figure in my account. I'm delighted. I'm actually beginning to earn something decent. However, truth be told... seeing 3 digits (verging on the fourth) on my bank statement makes me feel guilty.

First off, I'm not one who saves a lot. What I earn I like to spend... obviously I never overspend and I'm always careful I have enough for the necessities. I feel guilty because I've bought my luxury item for the month (the latest iPod Nano Chromatic) and still I'm left with a pocket-full of spending money. I have this urge to give a handful to a charity... but a meaningful one.

All certified charities are meaningful, but in this case I'm referring to those such as: Cancer Research, Alzheimer's, HIV/AIDS- health-related charities.

Yes I know... I'm being self-centred as the only reason I'd donate to such charities is because one day it may be me in need of their help. Don't criticize me...

I'm just a teen with too much money for one's own standards.

Love the French Way

2008-10-22T19:57:00.004+02:00

Yet another post related to the French and their uncanny way of dealing with amour.

Today however my post is about a French love-move that has gone one step too far beyond the line that seperates the understandable and the weird.

I remind you, cherished reader, that I am a lad brought up in an enviroment very much closed in relation to that I am living in now.

In simple terms I was brought up with a quasi-closed mind... while here I live with people whose mind is open like I never believed it could.

Anyways, this story is only one week apart from the last 'Love the French Way' story.

And once again this story begins with a discovery in my letterbox.

Now, I'm still trying to figure out if this was either:

a) a promotion by the Durex company

b) a health promotion by the health department

c) a prank- someone trying to be funny

d) or maybe even someone trying to hint something to me *wink wink* *nudge nudge*

Indeed... in my letterbox discovery today were two condoms.

Note aside: There is a warning on the back of the packets that says the product is for vaginal use only... any another use may cause damage to the product and risk rupture (etc...). That's a real pity. I'm sure the promoters who deposited the condoms had no idea that 96% of the residents in this Residence that are sexually active are infact gay.

Could this have been a way to promote -safe- sex? Could they not have chosen a more suttle way... like distribute the condoms at the supermarket, clubs, bars, in the streets?

No the French are way ahead of everyone... they do door to do delivery.

Well, lets look on the bright side of things... at least we know someone's protected next time Monsieur Valentine shows his forgotten face.

LARGO WINCH

2008-10-21T21:41:00.004+02:00

Started out as a comic-strip*, very popular in France and the Netherlands.

Largo Winch is now the star of a Pan-European film- one that has potential to beat Hollywood blockbusters at the box-office.

Short Trailer: http://specials.divertissements.fr.msn.com/largowinch.aspx

Long(er) Trailer: http://www.nrj.fr/op/largo_winch_ba/index.html

Although websites are in French trailer is bi-lingual.

If you look carefully at the Long(er) Trailer you might see a few scenes shot in Malta.

Release date in France is 17 December 2008!

Date noted in diary! I'm looking forward!

It may be hard to believe but I am 93% positive that this pic was shot in Malta. View of Sliema from Valletta... with a lot of computer generated images.

Clearly this is a Malta Unique. A church in the background. Can you specify which?

Looks like the backlot of the Malta International Airport, no?

Another Malta International Airport look-alike. Doesn't the view on the left give it away? I think so.

*link is to a French site

**Pictures from Official Site: www.largowinch-lefilm.com

A 3 Night Weekend Break

2008-10-20T13:32:00.004+02:00

I just got back from a weekend break.
Where did I go? The hotel down the street.

I spent the last three nights with my brother, who was over on a business trip.

I decided to take advantage and live as though on holiday for a couple of nights.

The hotel, an Italian chain Mister Bed, in Torcy is only 2 stops (10mins) away by train.

Although not very far from my place of work and my mini-studio-made-home I did actually feel I was on holiday. Reasons:

went out to eat a lot.
spent a lot on coffee from parisian cafes
spent a lot of time in paris
got ripped off from parisian cafes
made welcome in paris (?)

On my first night with my brother I took him out to eat and be entertained (yes! at the same time). At none other than the best Diner-Show around: Disney's Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show at the Disney Village.

I would rate my satisfaction on that night a 9/10.

The entertainment began the moment we gave in our tickets at the entrance.

With rodeo, and live country music playing in the backgroud, the smell of horses and other wild animal droppings, the aged wooden floorboards and not to mention the costumes of the castmembers on site the ambiance felt real. Together the sights, smells, and noises had already set high expectations before the show even started.

The audience was split up into four colours, or ranches: Red, Yellow, Green, Blue; wearing a cowboy hat corresponding to their colour. Each ranch is assigned a clown (or animator)- whose role is to get the audience to interact with the show. We, the yellow ranch, were fortunate enough to have been assigned a wild, happy-go-lucky, comedian-by-profession clown, who probably hailed from the USA (judging by his accent).

Due to our lack of allergies we were directed to sit in the front row (not something we would have voluntered for). 5 minutes into the show, it was clear that our (yellow ranch) clown was going to be giving us a show of his own.

You should understand that while watching the show and being encouraged to applaud and root for our ranch representatives (cowboys) on stage we also had to eat... in the dark. Thus no one should be blamed if we couldn't do all three things at one go.

However, our clown thought all was possible and began to pick on my brother for not applauding loud enough, rooting enough, and not eating enough! Every ten minutes he would come to us and find something negative again. At one point in time he even began to spoon-feed my brother (literally: food on spoon and into my bro's mouth). Embarrasment at its highest!

There was one time throughout the show that our african-american clown-cum-cowboy went up to everyone (in our ranch) and stole their napkin- which is something very necassary when you're eating in the dark, not really knowing where the plate is and accidently forcing a bit of food to fall of the plate into your lap. No one really understood why he did so... until the end.

Towards the end of the show my brother and the clown were still not on good terms- clown continuously telling my brother off and making fun of him. Then my brother tells him something (that no one else heard) and the clown reached down into his strappy-baggy pants and dumped a massive pile of yellow napkins (that previously belonged to other yellow ranch members) on to my brothers table area.

Few moments later a Disney wiater (in cowboy costume) came to clear the mess up and apologised, giving my brother an ice-cream.

Desperate for Romance?

2008-10-13T22:54:00.006+02:00

We've all known it. You have. I have. Sam has. Frank has.
The Americans know it and make (dirty) jokes out of such knowledge.
I've known it since my obsession with all things French began.

The French are Romantics.

No, I'm not referring to prose- although it wouldn't be worng to say that French literature is largely made up of romances (the genre).

I'm referring to a Frenchman's character. The way he looks at life. He uses every opportunity to seduce a girl, whether he intends to sleep with her or not. He uses every moment to practice.

Have you every observed a Frenchman in the process of seducing a girl? Its an unwritten theatrical piece. A theatrical piece from Moliere's times. Not much action, but a rather lot of verbal expression.

In many parts of the world the word seduction just means the act of using overused cliches and too much eye contact, together with a stroke of luck-- all to catch the attention of the girl sitting at the other end. The worst bit is that most men would be happy with just a glance back in their direction, or at most a peck on the cheek from the honey they've been trying to seduce for the 15mins.

Here in France, the art of seduction is practicsed very much like it used to be originally*: using witty metaphors- a form of coded language- only those in love could decipher, to attract a girl with the sole intention of getting under her corsett.

Since I moved to France I've been able to understand Le Monsieur and his lifestlye a tad better.

The first thing I noticed upon settleing in was the open-ness of the people. I don't just mean a larger gay community than back home. I mean everybody is readily willing to express himself openly to no matter who or what about.

He is willing to talk about his failing relationship with his wife. His addiction to porn. His unsatisfactory sexual life. Problems with his concker... or whatever.

I also noticed that online dating sites are extremely popular here. I never imagined people other than Americans actually had accounts on those sites. But meetic.com would prove otherwise.

Not wanting to go into the statistics of how many relationships have been created thanks to meetic and such sites (the percentage is high!) I'll skip right to my point...

Being all so romantic and open-charactered may seem like great ingredients for a perfect gentleman- at least the gentleman dreamt of by Hollywoodian film characters: the French, rose giving, cigarette smoking, slightly feminime gentleman. However, this is the description of a gentleman from the past. The gentleman that lived in the times of Paris' youth (and I don't mean Hitlon!). What happens, I ask, when these qualities are put into today's world?

The answer, I discovered today.

In my letter box I discovered a little square piece of paper.

The author of the text on this paper, a certain Mr Alensy was advertising his state of celebetoire (single- no companion). I thus came to the conclusion that the Frenchman may be a desperate one. And hence coin the phrase a desperate romantic.

* i.e. in the days before Cosmo magazine

p.s. this blog was slightly rushed due to time restraints. my apologies if it wasn't of interesting reading.

(Un)Officially a French Citizen

2008-10-12T21:50:00.005+02:00

I'm feeling particulary proud at this moment in time.

As in many parts of Europe the Yellow Pages companies over the past 2 weeks have been distributing their business directory.

Assuming I'm not entitled to a copy seeing that I don't have a permanent fixed residence (moved house twice in 7months) I decided to borrow a copy I spotted on someone's doorstep. I did so for no particular reason other than to get a new insight into French lifestyle.

The title Yellow Pages is indeed literally translated to Pages Jaunes (in French).

Accompanying the yellow, recycled paper directory is another big book of numbers, this one being the Phone Directory.

I was curious to see how the phone numbers of such a big country are listed. Back home all numbers fit on one book. Here, they only seem to list the phone numbers of region.

Inside the numbers are yet again divided into names of towns/cities (found in the region).

While flicking through the bible-paper pages I got a funny feeling that I might discover something interesting.

I flipped the pages to find my town.

Scanned the alphabetical listing down to "P".

And there I was. Listed on a French Phone Directory together with another 1million French citizens.

It gives me a proud feeling to be listed.

(It also explains why I was victim to direct marketing a few months back.)

Recap of the last 5 days

2008-10-11T11:41:00.002+02:00

My week has finally come to an end.
Five consecutive days of work.
A pre-Halloween party mid-week that ended at 3am.
I thought the week was never going to end. My energy levels were never so low.

Today I'm taking it easy, like I always do on my first of the three days off we get per week.

Although the previous week was a tough one to get through I now wish it hadn't come to an end so soon (contrary to a previous post). So I did I make it through the week?

My stars were shinning in my favour. Karma came round to help me through the week.

-the guests this week were pretty nice. got along with many of them and all seemed to react well to my 'shows'

-I received an official compliment, and surprisingly it was from a frenchman! (never expected it!)

-walked to work singing along to tunes on my new iPod

-the Halloween party was great fun, and gave me a chance to meet new people (Facebook friends' list expands; Six degrees of world seperation becomes more evident)

-and everyone at work seemed to be in a 'jolly' mood throughout the entire week, thus we got along well.

ABOUT MY COMPLIMENT

Just like many of my colleagues I had gotten bored of saying the Disney spiel (security speech with a theme) around 80 times a day. And just like a lesser few of those colleagues I came up with my own. Basically changing the words around- make it more comedic, terrifying or what-not.

Since I'm one who gets bored easily I've come up with quite a few of these 'shows'.

These 'shows' are not premeditated... they start out as improvisations as a result from confronting the guests. You start out by doing one show and you build up on the guests' reactions... in the end you end up with a completely different show from the original.

There was a time not very long ago when I was very very bored. I was extremely fed up of my job. My mood was low. Energy levels drained. I couldn't be bothered with the show anymore. My show was practically a no-show.

Ironically it was for my no-show that I was to be rewarded.

The creation of my no-show show began with an elevator full of Spanish people.

Sidenote: To us castmembers Spanish is synonymous with loud, dumb, living-in-ones-own-world, waste of energy. However today things have changed and the Spanish have become my favorite guests.

Anyways, there came a time when I began to animate my spiels for the benefit of the Spanish and others who did not comprehend my English and French versions.

Basically it would go something like:

"Please keep your hands (and I would point to my hand), arms (point to my arm), feet and legs (point to those) inside the elevator (I would draw the perimeter of the elevator using both my index fingers)."

So, on that day of the elevator full of Spanish I just kept my mouth shut and 'spoke using gestures'. My show had become a mime. The guests had reacted very positivly and from then onwards I began to improve on it... adding more comic gestures like "pointing towards a guest, picking my nose, licking the same finger and then quickly shaking my finger" the idea: do not pick your nose. In my opinion somehting like that is comic relief when you have a list of saftey precautions like: hands, feet and legs inside; no smoking; no photo/video-graphy...

However there was something that frigtened me about performing this show- the same reason for which I called this mime a no-show. Security is the number one priority at Disney and these secuirty speeches are obligatory. I was thus afraid that not 'saying' my spiel might be considered as though the security information was not being passed on to the guests- which is considered a safety hazard (potential libel court issue). Thus I reserved this 'show' for the end of the day- when my energy levels would be at their lowest and it would be least likely to have a surprise audit (inspection on my work).

I've now been doing this 'show' for around 3 weeks. Its become pretty solid- sharper, more recognisable gestures. And the reactions from the guests are always positive (NOTE: when guests DO NOT UNDERSTAND I drop my character and explain in a monotonic voice- such people have no imagination and probably never played cherades!)

Moreover, all this time I perfomed this 'show' in the dark- making sure no other castmember was around, not sharing weird guest reactions like we usually do in the breakroom.

Until there came a day when my dark secret was revealed.

It was on Wednesday that I was informed that Frenchman Mr Lecroix passed an official compliment at the Walt Disney Studio Services to congratulate me on "[my] incredible spiel in mime," quoting from the dossier Disneyland Parks Guest Comment Reports. My Team Leader, who informed me was as happy with the news. She was impressed that such a thing as "spiel in mime" was possible. I on the other hand was very happy that I wasn't told off for not orally saying my spiel.

ABOUT MY IPOD

I bought it over the previous weekend, just before my week of 5 workdays was to commence.

Its the new nano-chormatic bought for 129EUR.

The day I bought it I felt like a kid opening an early birthday present. Its such a nice little thing.

I installed iTunes and my mood changed. I spent over 15 minutes trying to figure out how things work- usually 5 minutes is all I need. In the beginning the programme automatically starting converting all of my songs, videos and audio files stored on my drive into iPod compatible format- something not wanted!

Anyways my relationship with my new toy was not to be based on first impressions. The next day while I was more relaxed I discovered how usefully intelligent iTunes was. Infact one can easily become a lazy bastard if all programmes were as efficient as this one.

Another plus is the ease at which one can purchase single tracks or albums, full sitcom seasons of single episodes.

The best part of my new toy was to come to light the following day.

I took my iPod to work. As I walked I sang-along to the tunes... and that put my into a great mood for work. Being a small, slim thing it fits into any of my tight pockets and even into my wallet. I thing I've found my new best-friend.

Ohh... and thanks to iPod I've discovered the practicality of podcasts (which is made more accesible through the iTunes Store).

Not-so-scary Halloween

2008-10-08T21:10:00.002+02:00

Looking forward to tomorrow's pre-Halloween party.

It's actually a Halloween-themed farewell party for a friend.

Couldn't find make-up. Bought a mask instead.

Will post pics and a video (i hope!)

Tomorrow will need to buy candy! Can't forget that.

CHRISTMAS PRESENT

There are internal company rumors saying the prices are going to increase.

With a price tag of 70EUR to enter both parks one imagines he's entering a palace.

This means that standards from our side are going to increase dramatically. Every guest is now a king, queen, prince or princess!

Off to clean my room. Got room inspection tomorrow.

You can take my pic for a doze of extacy

2008-10-07T21:36:00.004+02:00

I was going to write I post about my Maltese connections and I.
About who I've become. How I've changed in relation to my Maltese blood/upbringing/mentality.
BUT the post was turning out to be too negative.
All I can say is that today I met a Maltese group of six men (late 20s) who offended me (intentionally or unknowingly makes no difference). Simply, it made me understand that I've changed from what I was originally. I can no longer represent a typical Maltese citizen with typical Maltese mentality. The reason: because being here for so long has taught me things you can learn on an island closed within itself.
All I want to say (before I end up rewriting all the negaitivy I wrote previously) is that once I was born a Maltese I will always be a Maltese whether I'm like a Maltese is perceived or not.
May those six people and anyone like them end up in a magic-less place!

PHOTO FOR EXTACY

This week feels like its never going to end. It began two days ago and there's 3 days to go.

I am energy-less and exhausted. Today I could not work properly.

The reason: I only had one day off this past weekend. Usually its 3 days off.

Reason for that: I'm an angel:- A collegeaue asked me to change a day with her so that she could have Saturday off (since her mum was coming to see her), and swapped with her Tuesday off.

If things went according to plan I should have had Sunday and Monday off.

BUT towards the end of last week the timetables were changed by management due to lack of staff and I was due to work on Monday, thus leaving me only one day off!

Simple term: Knackering!

All was not dull afterall.

Although dead tired I still did my best to entertain the guests who paid good money. Fortunately one of theatre's oldest secrets worked on me: my audience gave me the extacy (metaphorically speaking) I needed to go through my day. I also noticed that I am most euphoric when asked to have my picture taken. Having said that I should add that I don't ever recall people asking me "photo? photo!" so many times in one day. Felt so proud (and popular)!

To add a side note: I learnt how to make people take a photo of me. Its a psychological trick I came up with that needs more experimenting. If the next few experiments work right I will share my tips with you.

A Happy Feast Day to me

2008-09-28T17:57:00.005+02:00

Reading my homeland's paper (online) I discovered that today is the feast day of St. Michael.

I did absolutely nothing today, like I always do on my first day off rest for the week.

Spent most of the morning watching more episodes of The Twilight Zone... I've reached around the 78th episode out of the 156 created.

I took a few moments to research my patron saint:

-St. Michael is not just and ordinary angel, he's an archangel. One of the principal angels, you know like Angel Gabriel.

- According to the Book of Daniel (12:1) he is a "great prince who stands up for the children of [the] people."

Back in High School, during an ordinary (read boring) lesson of Maltese Language the teacher was reading out from one of our literature books. "Pisani!" He said suddenly, stopping the entire class and drawing everyone's attention.

"Yes sir," I said politely, a bit shocked too.

"Do you know what your name means?"

I pretended to think about it, knowing he was going to reply his own question in just a moment.

"Mikhail," he said as though to himself. "Mikhail. Mi-kha-il. Or Mi-ka-el. It means 'Who is like God," he lectured.

Not wanting to go into the detail of the weirdness of that lesson: suddenly thinking of me, and lecturing the entire class on my name; I got to know, a couple of years later that he was not entirely correct.

Today, while researching my patron saint I came across another definition of my name: "Who is like God?" The difference is that my teacher made a common error in citing the definition as a statement, similar to 'One Who is Like God', when in actual fact its a question 'who is like God?'

Apparently this phrase, or rather name was a war-cry (battle chant) said by the angels during one of their wars against Satan & co.

Interestingly enough St. Michael (together with good friend George) is patron saint of Chivarly. Maybe that's where I get that charisma so many people tell me I've got. Although I wish I were really a knight. (Word chivarly comes from the French "chevalier"- meaning knight).

Happy feast day to me.

Let's just say I'm one bit more knowledgeable now.

Mood Forecast

2008-09-24T19:09:00.002+02:00

Things definitely look brighter than they've been for quite a long time.

Going through an 'up' period of life. From the looks of things 'up' should remain the order of the day for quite some time. At least I hope so. I haven't felt so happy(?)/ content with life in quite a long time.

In other news

I had the"filming for casting" thing today.

Obviously that means that I discovered what it was all about-- a bit late.

Since my manager did not give me much info about it, except the place and time I was lost the moment I arrived at Batiment Baloo.

Luckily I thought in advance, and went there 30minutes before the necassary hour.

For 25 minutes all i did was wait, and walk around a building trying to find anything that may show me a way to a "casting".

I noticed a guy I met only once before (at a special event). That night of the special event we got to talking, out of bordem. It was just us two outside my attraction in the cold.

When I saw him today I new he was going to be my way to the destination. Indeed he was.

A true Godsend!

So, what was it all about after all?

In simple terms, it was an audtion. They're planning on producing an advert to recruit new castmembers to work at Disneyland. Today's 'thing' was an audition to choose the best people for the role. They let me read part of the "idea" and it seems real interesting-- very magical.

Today we also had the Americans inspecting our work. As far as I know we gave a good impression. Remarks would be made clear during during tomorrow's briefing.

Off to do my laundry.

Holy wood?

2008-09-23T21:25:00.003+02:00

What a day.

Take my mood at 10.25 this morning.

And take my mood after 4.00 this evening.

What would you see? Black and white! A total contrast.

Being late for work this morning I was in a horrible mood.

Due to my bad mood I began to feel tired earlier than usual. At one time I even introduced the hotel as "the Holy-wood hotel", instead of "Hollywood Hotel".

My manager actually spoke to me (personally) today. True, it was brief, not even 2 minutes-- but at least he spoke to me, and did so with a smile. Very rare! He informed me that tomorrow I have, and this a literal translation from French (because I don't even get it in French) that I have a "filming for the casting." I'm meant to present myself at the Batiment Baloo at 13.30. What I don't get is that the Baloo Building is usually used for formations (training).

Anyways, I'm looking forward to something good. Even if its nothing like I imagine (filming for an advert or something) I'll still be happy that I spent a few hours out of rotation (not working).

smiles and magic.

Me in a chapter titled TODAY

2008-09-22T19:28:00.005+02:00

I write this and eat a carrot.

I write this and smell burnt fat (from the burgers I fried for lunch).

I write this and think of my day...

There is something about me and "attraction".

I tweeted about this yesterday or the day before, but i feel as though the entire world is attracted to me, except the people I'm really trying to attract. I don't mean to sound boastful or anything... but wherever I am, whatever I'll be doing at that particular moment, there is always someone who attracts my attention because I have attracted his/hers.

Clarification: when someone stares at me, my ears get hot (probably red from the outside).

What I always want to know is: why? At first I used to think there was something wrong with me: something on my face, in my hair, my clothes, am I standing on dog shit, sitting on wetpaint....

But now I've gotten used to it, and I take it as though I'm giving out uncalled for signals.

Case in point:

yesterday:

Time: 11.00

Place: Metro station

Action at the time: Sitting on bench waiting for metro. Staring. Observing people. Being bored. Over hearing the conversation next to me.

Snyposis of what happened: As I was minding my on business eavesdropping I observed an old man climbing down the stairs. He walked past me. After a minute I notice him walking past again, in the opposite direction (i.e. back to where he came from). He stopped infront of me, but up ahead so that there was lots of space for ppl to walk between us. The man next to me, whose conversation was like a radio talk show to me, noticed him staring in our direction and asked "Would you like a seat?"

The old man rejected the younger man's offer, and walked off.

For what felt like 5 minutes I was just sitting there, looking at the floor-- at my shoes actually.

I was wearing a hat and couldn't really see what was infront of me with my head down.

I got that feeling of someone watching me. Still with my head down I look to my right. There I see a man standing by the wall looking ahead of him to his left. 2 seconds later he looks at me and looks away. I keep staring at him wondering if he's the reason for my "feeling". He looks back at me, and looks away at something that seems to be ahead of me, judging by the direction of his stare. I finally look up, only to find the same old man from before standing a few feet ahead of me, with both his hands on his stick infront of him. That moment was very cinematographic: as I raised my head I first made out his shoes, then legs and walking stick, upper body, and finally his face. He was smiling at me. For a spilt of a fraction of a second I was freaked out, but something took me over. I smiled back. For the first time since we first made eyecontact I looked away- back to the man standing at my right. I looked back at the old man and he's still smiling at me. "bonjour" I say, trying to break his stare. Politley he replies with the same, and continues to smile. "Ca va?" I ask (very impolite of me- but he must have excused me on account of my age and generation gap). Like a real gentleman who knows a lot, he replies very softly, a barely audible "Oui." It was a long, peaceful, smiley 'oui' with three gentle nods. "Et vous" he continued. The rest of the converstation will be left for another entry (look out for the tag 'attraction') as it's not important here.

Case in point 2

Time: later that same day

Place: Museum of Architecture, Paris (near Eiffel Tower)

Action at the time: Just bumped into a guided visit of the place.

Synopsis: I was with a group of friends. the idea was to just check out the place (being free and all). As we were wondering around the place we caught up with the guided visit. Out of curiosity we decided to check out what the old men (the experts leading the tour) were saying. As I found myself I good spot, from which I could see the speaker's face, see the images in his hands and the monument behind him a man to my right began to talk into my ear.

"He's telling us about the connection between these three pieces (what was on display) and the new testament." Not knowing what to say I used my automatic reply of "oh d'accord" (oh right).

When the group began to move to another display the man took that moment of silence from the speaker to give me a brief summary of what has been discussed since the beginning of the tour. To be honest I hardly undertsood what he was on about. By my automatic reply seemed to be working, although it wasn't doing me any good as he keep on telling me more as though I was genuinely interested.

More talking from the speakers/leaders.

Then, another pause as we walked to another display. Again the man began to talk to me. This time I took my time to look at the man and make out his character: definitely french, probably Parisian, an architect and if not, an archiologist, studied history/or loves it at least, is well read and likes young boys.

Obviously, we shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But truth be told: this was one book I wasn't interested in reading.

When the speakers began to introduce the new item on display and all attention was drawn to what his assistant was pointing at I took it as an opportunity to break away from the group and rejoin my friends who had dropped out upon hearing that religion was part of this.

Hours later we were still wondering around the museum. This time in the modern section. Again I meet the man. Or rather he meets me. That conversation is for another time.

Case in point 3

Today:

Time: morning

Place: not far from home

Action at the time: walking to a residencial home to look ask if they have vacant apartments.

Synopsis: As I was walking to the main entrance of the Residence, just round the corner, I was preparing my speech in French, "I'm a youth worker (a french term- housing is usually cheaper) and I'm looking for an apartment for a few months..." when a lady interrupts my thinking.

"Monsieur. Excusez-moi monsieur." She was walking down the last step of 3 leading to a block of apartments. "Do you know where the Residhome Prestige is?" I answered and began giving her the directions when she interrupted me. The rest of the conversation will be filed under 'attraction'.

Back to the purpose of this blog... my day.

I went to ask this Residence for a quotation on their apartements.

Typically French she wasn't very welcoming. But there was something strange as we conversed.

For the very first time in the history of my French conversational skills I had the upper hand. That means I was the one leading the conversation. I was the one who had the power to end it. The woman seemed to be scared or something. For the first time ever in a French conversation I looked at the person's eyes directly for the entire duration of the conversation-- even when searching for the word in French I did not look skywards.

Although that conversation was in vain, as either the apartments were too expensive or the studios were full up I still felt satisfied afterwards. I felt as though I had gained something: confidence.

At the supermarket I was looking at two pairs of headphones.

one at 20.00EUR the other at 10.00EUR. The former from PHILIPS (well known), the latter from LABTEC (heard of them, but not as popular). To make my choice took me a good 15minutes. In normal circumstances I would have made a decision in 5 minutes and would have opted for the PHILIPS immediately. Reason: PHILIPS is a name in itself that guarentees quality. But if only if the other pair was 10 cents cheaper than that displayed. The fact that the second pair was a whole 10EUR cheaper made me think hard. It made me want to know more about the differences. Why is PHILIPS an entire 10EUR more? As it turned out, the 10EUR difference between the two was just for 'the name.' According to the specifications LABTEC was made to give better results. And thus at the end of it all I went for LABTEC, and saved 10EUR.

Forget brand loyalty.

Walking out of the shop I was swinging my hips, snapping my fingers and whistling to the beat of the music on the haut-parleur (what's that english?).

Had quite a day... mood-wise.

"no doubt that you knew what you were doing"

2008-09-20T12:02:00.003+02:00

Was disgusted to read the following article.

An 18 year old Briton sentenced to jail for sponsoring terrorism.

Reuters say it best: http://tinyurl.com/49c8vh

[http://preview.tinyurl.com/49c8vh]

A Disney Cafe

2008-09-20T10:52:00.001+02:00

A cafe viennios from the new Cafe Cafe in the Walt Disney Studios.

Of Christmas and moods

2008-09-12T20:40:00.002+02:00

As I tweeted (my twitter) earlier today, i was reminded of Christmas.
The weather today was what i would call 'typical' Christmas weather-- not that I know what typical weather is like during Christmas, since in Malta its usually a typically hot day.

For that reason I began singing/humming Christmas tunes-- unintentionaly.
It was a friend of mine who remarked on my out of place-ness.
Walking home from work I saw a rainbow, coming out of the Tower of Terror (my place!)-- and as always happens the time i need something the most, is the time I don't have it-- my camera! So unfortuneatly I don't have pics.
I promise, though, that tomorrow if it rains I'll flood the net with my photos. Keep an eye here.
I'm off from work and I'm planning on going to Paris.

---

Met quite a few British guests.
I've always liked them. They're really nice people to entertain. Not that the others aren't, its just that they don't seem to forget their British humor while on holiday in "the country of the enemy." Thus, while i do the entertaining, I'm being entertained in return.
Had quite a few good laughs, with most of my guests, including the Spanish.
Came up with a few new tricks and ideas.

---

I'm in a very out of season seasonal mood. (If that makes any sense.)
:)

A day in the life of...

2008-09-12T00:21:00.006+02:00

Title has nothing to do with anything...

or, actually it's got everything to do with everything....

A hot day it definitely was.

Although the heavens broke just as we were closing. Freshened the place up a bit.

Few things worth commenting about:

Yesterday I met an American couple. Appartently these are castmembers (or ex) from one of our American parks. They now spend most of their time travelling world wide to all the Disney parks handing out American-sized badges/pins.

They're a nice couple, Rachael and Richard, kind hearted and spirited people.

They even run a site dedicated to all castmembers world wide.

www.hellers.org (See my photo on the site after 25 September).

A girl... or rather, a young lady handed out lollies.

I was doing my thing in the library, when this 20-something woman approaches me.

By this time I was very tired. We were nearing the end of the day and couldn't

take anymore.

She, toegther with her friend, really surprised me when she said "Take this. A token of our gratitude for being so kind to us."

A very sweet gesture indeed. Its nice to know that there are a few people in this world that recognise our work is tough, and appriciate our work in the first place!

Old Friends

2008-09-11T00:35:00.003+02:00

Have you ever had the coincidence of being present when two old men meet after a long time of absence. The way they greet eachother, and talk about every subject on this earth- you'd think they haven't seen eachother since pre-school.

Having been a frequent public transport user (back in Malta) I used to experience many of these 'reunions'. Maltese buses are the best place for usch things. Everytime I would witness a "reunion" it would put a smile on my face and make me think about my future.
I wonder if I'd be doing the same in years time.

I never expected to be doing so at age 18.

I have just returned from one of the best dinners I've had in the last six months.
A Maltese friend came up to Disneyland. We met. Agreed to eat out together. And this evening, once we hooked up spent till 10 minutes to midnight talking. We were on a roll.
The security guards (politely) kicked us out of the commercial centre, were we had seated ourselves on the couches in the lobby area. Later, the restaurant began to shut for the night while we were still in.

Even as I write this I still have more to tell them (friend and his girlfriend).
Great night. Will not want to forget this.

Smiles & magic

Make a Dream come True

2008-09-10T20:22:00.002+02:00

Helping out a friend.

Rather than a friend... she's my cousin!
Go cuz!!

Of pics and photos

2008-09-09T16:35:00.013+02:00

I've always been interested in photography.
Rather than the art of capturing still moments I am even fonder of the end result.
Browsing through photography magazines at the store is one of my (many) secret habits.

It's only recently (last year or so) that I decided to put my creativity to this medium. The results can been seen on my Picasa Web Albums.

Today I will name PHOTO DAY, as for some reason photos (viewing & snapping) made a major part of my day. Below are a few that left their mark.

Not exactly sure what it is about this picture that left an impression on me. It might be the hint of spontaneity in the photo-- these are not models, this was not staged. Or it may be the rain. Pictures in the rain seem like a good idea. Will definitely give it a go next time it rains (less than 4 hours).
A photo by Luz De Mar, found here. Clearly its the contrast of the boys warm coloured skin with the gray backdrop that makes this picture remarkable.

Here, its the girl's expression that made me download this photo. Also the contrast of innocence and adulthood has fascinated me since the day I discovered Graham Greene (British Author). Sally Mann is the photographer of Candy Cigarette (photo's title). Image source.

According to the caption this is Victoria Yun, a 19 year old model. You might say, "Easy to tell why this picture impressed him." True, the girl has a body to be fond of. However, I would rather use the term "beautiful" on the photo in general. There is a certain warmth, and strong sense of nature. Exposing a lot of skin may be deemed quasi-pornographic by some, but here it reflects well with the theme of nature. Photo quoted from devianART, by hakanphotography

sending you all smiles...

p.s. shows ive got nothing better to do. this is my 2nd blog of the day- a first!

Anything else...?

2008-09-09T14:12:00.003+02:00

These past two days haven't been anywhere near my best!

This morning I missed the UPS guy by 2 seconds!
He was meant to bring my new iPod nano- and today was the only day I was present to collect it.
I heard the doorbell ring-- in typical Maltese mentality I went to the window to check who it was, instead of speaking through the intercom.
I realise its the UPS guy, so I shoot across the appartment to put on some pants, search for my keys-- in all this time I haven't picked up the phone to tell him I'm here.
I go back to the window to find him exiting the building (parcel in hand).
I ran out of my appartment, down the stairs, into the lobby, out onto the front yard, exit the main gates, look both ways, see the UPS van at the end of the street, wave in vain and finally curse vanity!

Later, problems with my fridge.
Last night I went to open my little fridge to a huge stink. I noticed that inside it was humid- more warm than cold. I opened the freezer box to find a puddle of water.
This morning I inform my receptionist of the problem. She tells me the earliest the technician can come is Saturday (this weekend). I tell her my fridge stinks because I have cheese and vegetables. She says we'll replace it this afternoon.

As a result of my fridge going bust I missed my trip to Paris, spent another day inside my cuboid. I might even be suffering from depression.

Oh boy, where is has the magic got to?

Results from my Trip to MALTA

2008-09-05T20:10:00.004+02:00

(I'm afriad it's in Maltese)
Storja ta’ Success

Mikhail Pisani hu guvni ta’ 18-il sena. Sentejn ilu hu spicca mill-Kullegg St. Edward’s u dahal il-Higher Secondary tan-Naxxar. Meta kien hemm irrealizza li l-istudji akkademici ma kinux qed jaghtuh is-sodisfazzjon mistenni. Ghalhekk hu xtaq jibda jahdem, u bhal kull persuna ohra, ma xtaqx isib sempliciment impjieg. Xtaq impjieg sodisfacenti, differenti u b’kuntatt kontinwu man-nies.

Mikhail kien ra r-reklami taghna f’Settembru li ghadda u attenda ghall-Fiera ta’ l-Impjiegi tal-EURES li saret fl-istess xahar. Fil-fiera hu interessa ruhu fl-opportunitajiet offruti minn Disneyland Resort Paris. Ghamel intervista fuq il-post u gie msejjah ghal intervista ohra.

Illum Mikhail ilu sitt xhur jahdem bhala animatur f’dan l-akbar park t’animazzjoni fl-Ewropa. Mieghu hemm jahdmu hames zghazagh Maltin ohra li wkoll gew ingaggati permezz tal-Fiera ta’ l-Impjiegi tal-EURES li saret is-sena li ghaddiet. L-esperjenza ta’ Mikhail se tixxandar fuq l-ahbarijiet ta’ TVM din il-gimgha bhala parti mill-promozzjoni tal-fiera.

Il-Fiera Ewropea ta’ l-Impjiegi se terga’ tittellgha nhar il-Gimgha 26 u s-Sibt 27 ta’ Settembru li gej. Rapprezentanti minn Disneyland Resort Paris u minn kumpaniji ohra Ewropej se jergghu ikunu Malta biex jimpjegaw haddiema barranin.

Successi bhal dawn isiru realta` bil-kontribuzzjoni ta’ kulhadd!!

Back 'home'

2008-09-04T21:54:00.003+02:00

I just arrived in France.
Back in my apartment. Socks are hung up all over the place, just as I left them to dry before I headed off for Malta.

The flight was ordinary I guess.
The bus ride home however was more interesting.
Unlike my previous trips, when the bus would be packed with Spanish, it was full of Maltese tourists. I was so happy to see so many coming to Disneyland.

The moment I stepped out of the French Airport, for some reason I had a "I'm home" feeling.
For the past 5 days I spent in Malta I felt like a foreigner in my own place (read previous entry).
Within 5 minutes of touching French soil I was doing what I do best: answer people's questions.
"Where to we pay for the tickets?"
"Is this the bus coming?"
"Mummy is still inside, she's going to miss it daddy."

And there I am, reassuring them that the bus is easy to spot "a big, red bus, with DISNEYLAND written across it." "You can buy your tickets on the bus."

Checking out my letter box was surprised to find a letter from my residence's management.
A warning.
Apparently on the night between the 1August and 2August I had 2 people in my appartment between the hours of 0h43 and 1h08. What's anyone going to do in 25mins, in my aprtmt?
I anyone comes that late to my place they usually sleep over... since the last train is at 0h23.
Anyways... I never did have anyone over that night at that time.

Will be speaking to the manager tomorrow.

Going to unpack.

magic smiles from,
MIKA

Away at home

2008-09-01T09:18:00.000+02:00

Im back home. Akwardly I feel like a forgeiner.
I sit in my old bed. The same one I slept on for the past 4 years.
I sit and write this note as though I’m on some kind of foreign exchange holiday.
I don’t mean to say I don’t recognize my family, on the contrary, family is the only thing reminding me im back “home”.

In the past six months I have completely forgotten how intense the heat can get here. The unbearable humidity is definitely one thing I have not missed. Being unadjusted to this climate has drained my energy. A few hours after midday I began to suffer from a headache or migraine. It’s been here since.

Quickie #2

2008-08-26T23:31:00.004+02:00

(update from previous post)
I'm now back home.

Ate a good plate of typical Sicilian sausage, and a unique plate of fresh pesto pasta. The pesto was home made by his mother.

I enjoyed myself very much. All we talked about practically everything. We really caught up on each other-- the recent stories in our lives, what's been happening and what's not.

Unfortunately or fortunately (not so sure) we even spent a long time talking our Her.
I guess it was a good thing because I needed someone to talk to, but at the same time it reopened the wounds. I still don't want to believe I met her...and more than that I can't believe I still acted 'funnily' in front of her-- like someone afraid/shy/ i don't know what.

In other news...
the mood, at my friend's house (this evening) changed slightly when he decided to show me this website that he's subscribed to. This site claims to unite all the gay people from the world, or at least from Europe. He had this weird idea to check out the Maltese listings.
I was expecting to see a blank page, or even a "Does not exist" page. I was very wrong.
"155" was the number listed next to the Malta title.
We decided to have a look.
Believe me or not, but I'm saying the truth, I recognised 2 out of the 4 or 5 profiles we clicked on. It was an unbelievable moment seeing my friend listed on a "Gay and Single" website.
Well good luck to him. My friend is now interested in him.

Tomorrow is a new day, a new history to be written.
Let's look forward to it, and make it be a memorable one.

xx

Quickie

2008-08-26T21:21:00.002+02:00

Quick update.

I'm eating dinner at friend's house.

First day of my week and it wasn't too bad.
Met the girl that kissed me the previous week.
Told off a group of 4 people for trying to enter with expired tickets (again).

But the highlight of the day came as i was exiting-- when i thought my day was over.
I met The Girl. And now im feeling very down.

This is the very reason I accepted my friend's spontanoues invitation to eat at his place.

What's kept my mind occupied this week?

2008-08-23T10:50:00.004+02:00

provided by worlde.net

Interesting to see how important time is in my life. With all the Spanish I meet everyday, its not wonder Spanish is so big.