Announcing the Paris-or-other-place-in-Europe aka BSUaBiP Story Contest

Announcing the Paris-or-other-place-in-Europe aka BSUaBiP Story Contest

Having given some thought to Amy’s nefarious idea, I have decided that she is RIGHT. So I am holding a contest for EITHER the best Paris-or-other-place-in-Europe (so Amy can enter) True Story OR the best made-up story that could fit under the title Boobs Stuck Under a Bed in Paris. Note, the best story that can be posted on and/or linked to by a blog that my strict Catholic wanted-to-be-a-nun-until-she-changed-her-mind-and-had-7-children mother reads. I realize that can be a trick with the title Boobs Stuck Under a Bed in Paris, but those are the rules. If a certain J.Jackson wants to post a “made-up” version on her own blog in order to win the contest, she may.

I do not have any fox dolls to offer. BUT I will offer a box of handmade truffles, made by my sister’s and my very own hands, following my sister’s recipe. I strongly suspect that in payment for this box of truffles I will be helping her make ALL of her Christmas truffles for her entire Christmas list. Which is a very time-consuming and painstaking job, let me tell you, and the worst of it is, my sister won’t even let her helpers EAT even one tiny single truffle while making them. We get to lick the bowls afterward, though.

My sister’s truffles are my personal favorite truffles of anywhere, and trust me, I have tried my fair share of truffles around the world. I cannot, unfortunately, offer French chocolate as I have run out myself, but this does give me some ideas for contest prizes for the summer, once I’ve had a chance to go back to Paris and Provence and restock. Meanwhile, I think you will be happy with these truffles. (I think my sister usually fits 12 into a box, but I will have to double-check.) In addition to the truffles, the winner may ALSO have, should he or she want one, a signed copy of Blame It on Paris.

The contest runs until…hmm…let’s say January 5. I have to make the truffles over the holidays, plus who has time to be submitting stories until after the holidays, anyway? Also, that means the prize would arrive just in time to ruin anyone’s New Year’s diet resolutions, which makes me happy, because, while I am for exercise, I am adamantly opposed to diets.

Stories can be submitted as a comment, or posted on your own blogs and submitted as a link, or if neither of those work for you, you could use the email form on my website, but let me know in that case if it’s okay to post them.
And if we get enough of these stories, we should definitely put out an anthology, in the vein of Travelers’ Tales Whose Panties are These? anthologies. I’m just convinced the title would sell itself.

  • amy

    So I’m guessing your mother would NOT approve of my doing completely legal but definitely sinful acts in a youth hostel within spitting distance of the Vatican? That’s just a guess. I’m going to have to wrack my brain for humorous rather than slutty. Dang.

    btw, it’s official–an actual doctor has said it’s the flu. And so luckily I have until Jan 5 to wrack my brain, since it’s feeling rather spongy at the moment.

    And I am completely HONORED that my name is in the title of your contest. Oh, and as soon as I’m feeling better I’m calling my library to harass them because I could not find one copy of your book anywhere in the entire state’s library system, and admittedly it’s a small state (the smallest, actually), but STILL.

    December 21, 2006 at 3:59 pm
  • dee

    Does my Paris story count, or do I have to come up with another one? Just in case you need a new one… (hey, we were on that ship for 6 months, I’ve got lots of stories!)

    My mom always dreamed of going to Paris. Growing up with her, I loved all things French, took 4 years of the language in high school (even though I was fluent in Spanish until age 6), and bought into her dream of seeing the City of Lights some day. When I was a big girl and ran off and joined the Navy to see the world, I was finally offered the chance to see Paris. Of course, it came in the form of a six month deployment. But still… Paris! So off I went. We spent a few weeks getting to the Med, then went through The Ditch and spent a month or so bombing Iraq, then went back to the Med. We pulled in to Crete and Antalyah, Turkey. Turkey has very good vegetables, though I’m not quite sure why. They were nice, but I was really looking forward to Paris. We had one more port before Cannes, and that was Livorno Italy, for 9 days. I was not all that excited about this because, well, it wasn’t Paris. Still though, I went along to Florence because how many times do you get paid to vacation in Italy? Yeah, NONE, unless you write for the Smooth Traveller or something.
    Ohhhh, that it is magical place to be. Our first afternoon, we stopped in a piazza to have a cappucino. As I was looking around the square, I noticed that we were near the David. I mean, the freakin David was RIGHT THERE. It was surreal. We picked a hotel at random (ok, that’s a lie, we picked it because the name was almost identical to a Paris hotel that I know of!) so we stayed in the Hotel de la Ville. OMG, the room was two stories. Literally. It had a winding staircase to the sitting room, and a fresco, and everything!
    But the best thing about Florence was the Ponte Vecchio bridge. It was beautiful and magical and all of that stuff. But better. Because somewhere on that bridge, one of those cute little Italian jewelers sold my man a band of gold with a little sparkly rock attached. And later that night, in magical Florence, I got my official wedding engagement ring.
    Paris, two weeks later, was our celebration trip. I loved it, of course. But honestly, after getting officially engaged in Italy, Florence will always have my heart.

    December 21, 2006 at 6:13 pm
  • I love romantic stories. Thanks, Dee! 🙂

    And Amy, maybe I’ll have to tell my mother not to read this contest. I’m so glad my students are college age. Otherwise, I’d probably end up like that high school (middle school?) teacher in Florida whose students found provocative pictures of her in a bikini somewhere on the web.

    I’m sorry about your flu!

    December 22, 2006 at 6:01 am
  • Anna

    Well, I could tell plenty of stories about being embarrassed in Paris, I went there once with my two sisters, for one thing. However, one of those sisters is Ms. Florand, so I’m wondering if that excludes me from the contest? Like, I always feel really bad for those poor students working at McDonald’s when McD sponsors their Monopoly game. There they are, unable to participate in reindeer games just because they’re frying french fries.

    December 22, 2006 at 7:20 am
  • Anna

    Oops. I didn’t read the instructions. The contest is for any story, not just the Most Embarrassing? (As I read dee’s story, I was having a bit of trouble figuring out what the embarrassing part was, but, hey, my husband embarrasses me, too, so I just kept assuming the contest was for Most Embarrassing Story in Paris. Sorry.)

    December 22, 2006 at 7:27 am
  • amy

    My homeopath gave me magic little pellets for the flu and I’m feeling like a human again. Here’s my entry link:
    And it is completely acceptable for Catholic moms (my own included).

    Happy Holidays, everyone!

    December 22, 2006 at 6:49 pm