Tomorrow is Friday the thirteenth. Sounds prettier in French, of course. To my American ears, Vendredi Treize sounds as if it could be the name of a French movie starlet. Or a new perfume. Or both. "I always wear a dab of Vendredi Treize."
Vendredi treize isn't necessarily a portent of bad luck. Some folks think it's just the opposite, the way saying "merde" or "merde puissance 13" is actually for good luck, like "break a leg." Claude Lelouch named his three-masted yacht Vendredi 13. And there is a publishing company, Editions vendredi treize. Stumbling on their site was certainly a bit of luck for me.
It turns out that Editions vendredi treize publishes Urban Guides to Paris, including Balades en Bus, showing the best ways to see the sights of city on the RATP buses, my hands-down favorite pastime if not on foot.
Vendredi treize isn't necessarily a portent of bad luck. Some folks think it's just the opposite, the way saying "merde" or "merde puissance 13" is actually for good luck, like "break a leg." Claude Lelouch named his three-masted yacht Vendredi 13. And there is a publishing company, Editions vendredi treize. Stumbling on their site was certainly a bit of luck for me.
It turns out that Editions vendredi treize publishes Urban Guides to Paris, including Balades en Bus, showing the best ways to see the sights of city on the RATP buses, my hands-down favorite pastime if not on foot.
Hmm. I had thought I was going to write that guide. Oh well. I guess I'll get out my Navigo and go go go.
3 comments:
Thanks for updating. Bloggers over 50
When I was pregnant this summer, my due date was vendredi treize (and not, alas, July 14). Even though many people told me that it could be considered good luck to deliver on Friday the 13th, I was a teensy bit superstitious about it.
So when I went into labor early in the day on the 12th, I heaved a sigh of relief and then... well, things progressed more slowly than expected, and I found myself pushing for almost an hour while looking desperately at the clock.
The obstetrical surgeon who came in to help the midwives out at the end asked me casually if I wanted to deliver on the thirteenth or not.
I said no, and he said, "Donc, il va falloir pousser, madame," and I thought to myself YOU DON'T THINK I'M PUSHING ALREADY? Meanwhile my husband was ordered in English and in French to sit down before he fainted.
Le Petit finally arrived on the 12th, nine minutes before his due date. (There's the long version of the story on my blog.)
whoa, what a strange story! I was born on Friday the 13th, and I've always enjoyed that fact.
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