Episode Eight: an american girl in paris (part deux)
I’m writing about these last two episodes in real time because I watched them one time through without writing anything down, and now I’ve got two screens open on my desktop and I’m typing while watching and now I’m wishing I had been doing this all along. Damn.
Smith’s hair looks stupid after he dyes it.
Ah, the return of the cigarettes. She’s even eating at the patissier and smoking between bites. MPK says the giant dog smelled like a barn.
I’m guessing the tourist that’s filming her from the boat is …swedish?
aww, she sees her book in the shop. Too bad she completely screws those people over. I hate that.
Oh, the couple from Charlotte. Why would Charlotte and Harry serve them lox? That’s not really a very democratic offering, especially knowing that they’re hillbillies. “Is that the fish?” B just told me “lox” is also a rap group out of NYC that includes DMX and Eve.
My sister tells me that I really liked the french rap song (DJ Solar) that’s playing in the background while Carrie is running around Paris and Miranda is running around Brooklyn. I don’t remember saying that, but I’m proud of myself if I did.
Magda gets prettier in every episode. I hope I look like her when I’m old.
I love that when Big finally finds Carrie, she’s squatting in her nouveau-tutu looking for diamonds.
She says “this is so surreal.” I hate that word, ever since a fellow bookstore employee described our work environment as surreal. Fatuous statement, here and then.
Ah, Big’s name. That was my achilles heel. I didn’t like Big, but in arguing with a Big proponent, I conceded that Carrie was allowed to end up with Big IF we learned his real name. And we did, so she did.
“And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.” Okay, I get it now.