Well, Tuesday was an early day. I had a European Business midterm, which basically consisted of me regurgitating everything I have read for the class since the first day...which does not actually amount to much, so it was fine. My hand was ready to fall off after that exam, easy, but no matter.
I wasn't feeling super hot that day, so I took in an easy day, napped a bit, then went for a nice walk all around the city, ended early.
On Wednesday, it was roasting hot, so I concluded to wear a dress (which, those who know me know I never wear those things, let alone own them). I felt cute. My friends made fun of me for "dressing up", but no matter. I bought a pair of cheap heels that would actually function with the dress, resulting in a good amount of blood sliding off of my skin, down the shoe, and onto the ground. Several men in the Métro pannicked and tried to get my attention, while I simply replied "yes, thanks, I know...".
I met up with Pierre to go to Château de Vincennes (just east of Paris, essentially a castle-cum military office park. There was a free quintet concert playing a few delightful tunes there; Rossini, Mozart, Schuman, Haydn, and Gervaise. Everyone there, absolutely everyone, was someone in and/or related to the military. I felt slightly out of place, or like a rebel if you will. The concert was brief and pleasant. The evening was beautiful. But the moral in the group was low, and conversation was not flowing as fluidly as I usually can muster up. We got a drink at a nearby café, and then called it a day. I got home a bit discouraged and in pain (ahem, I was bleeding).
Thursday started off slow, and in sandals (my feet were swollen and sad). I met up with my marketing group to conclude our project topic would, in fact, be on Campbell's Soup's marketing strategies. Franglish was had.
Class happened, took a test in it, and that was done with.
Choir was particularly interesting because José-Louis was in a punchy mood and kept on distracting me while we sang, and while I completely sight-read the new music to the choir. Enchantée. But I had my fun, too, so I cannot complain too much. Fellow tenor Etienne actually decided to make an appearance and help me with our singing parts....but then I realized that I'd be distracted two-fold on BOTH sides of me: José-Louis playing the flirtacious punk and Etienne as the nosey colleague.
After practice (I was famished), Liisa offered to go to Les Deux Magots for dinner. Thinking, yes, a pleasant hearty French meal in St.Germain de Prés. A few glasses of wine, an entrée, a plat, and a dessert.........we both got similar stuff.....amounting to 85Euros total. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! And my dinner was misunderstood; I thought I had ordered a big steak meal called Carpaccio, and the man comes out with this plate basically lined with super-fine raw meat. I was devastated. Good meal, overall, though. And Liisa and I, of course, discussed men, her marriage, our plans, and everything else under the sun. I'm sure we spoke loudly and that people hated us, but it was a moment straight from the movies, so we relished in it.
After class on Friday, I met up with Pierre to pass on a book for his thesis from my library. Luckily (though unfortunately, I didn't have the time that he had for once), we were both in better moods than the last time and talked more, but I then ended up running late to my lunch date at Tokyorama with Paz and some of the French girls from class. The lunch was decent, and mostly it was Paz and I explaining to the girls just what NYC is like.
Ran home and put on yet another dress (for Liisa's birthday dinner) and met up with Liisa to do some fast shoe shopping pre-dinner. We had a great long walk, and she settled on some fabulous(ly expensive) heels. Liisa (and I) is very adverse to wearing skirts and dresses because we are super self-conscious about our bodies, so the agreement was that I'd wear a dress so that she would feel alright and more comfortable on her special night.
Reservations for 14 at this massive resto, Pastapapá, nearby Opéra. The restaurant was alright; very, very American. The food was alright, and in big proportions, but you could tell it was a chain resto. But I enjoyed my food, and I was sitting next to José-Louis and Nicolas, forcing me to stumble in French all dinner. Brandon, though (who is far better in French than me), got them to talk about politics and social issues, so my nearby companion Rimi and I sat there confused.
Afterward the dinner, I should have gone home, but was peer pressured to go to this Café Oz Australian Bar/Club with my buddies. That means funky dancing in a 50's style dress and open-toed heels. Awkward..... And I was not in the mood to be a big loud club, so I agreed with Lorena to catch the Métro home before it was too late. Though, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Rahul get funky and Peter look like a sexy tortured soul.
Saturday, oh man...well, I went running around my area to find BAY LEAVES for my dinner, to no avail. I am frantically trying to make 2 dishes for roughly 12 people (with the help of Rimi and Brandon), realizing that most of the people coming to dinner are friends of friends and I've never met before.....and I'm sending out Paz and Brandon to grab other things for me while I try to not burn the Jambalaya or Casserole. It was hectic. To be chased with Rahul and Peter informing us they, in fact weren't showing up (claiming they didn't know it was still on, THOUGH it is a weekly event...). It ended up being alright because I had just enough food for everyone anyways.
The dinner went really well. José came with one of his other Saint-Cyr buddies and a guy from Bulgaria that he rock climbs with. They were really nice guys, but sometimes their French was too fast for me to follow. We talked, debated, I mostly cleaned and listened..... Lorena swung by, and I made brownies from scratch for her, with the help of José (who told me that stirring the brownie mix was a man's job). Apparently we were a little too loud in the kitchen because on of my neighbors yelled at us to quiet down. Though, we were just talking and mixing brownie mix....
Everyone agreed later on to go clubbing at this place La Scala over by the Louvre. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to stereotypical French diskothèque, and I really actually enjoyed myelf! Yes, of course, there was a problem before about where it was, and I had managed to accidentally mess up some of the logistics, but we managed finally to get into this club. The drinks were disgusting (but free), and the music was house/techno, but we had a blast. It was the kind of dancing you do when you don't want to think at all. Just dance. Color me female, but it was really great; I needed it. Our slightly big group circled up and danced with each other. And the guys DANCED! Which is my favorite part! They enjoyed themselves! It made me really happy to see that, that's for sure.
We did have some problems....us 3 girls (Liisa, Lorena, me) were being hit on and approached by some random men. We were making it quite clear we weren't interested, and we ocassionally would cry out "lesbian", but usually one of our guys had to step in, put their arms around us, and say "back off, buddy". Ah, yes, that's why I love hanging out with guys: the constant protection!
By 4-5am, this random group of drunk French guys started picking a violent fight with our two soldiers in the group. They definitely got in super-soldier-fighting mode, but somehow managed to stave off natural fighting needs and we walked out of the club exhausted and ready to hit the hay anyways.
We went for a walk to start dropping people off, and I finally ended up back on the métro with Lorena and the nice Bulgarian guy (who spoke English with us), got home, and slept. A lot.
Today is a lowkey day. It's raining and thundering, and I have no real need to do much but vegetate, again.
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