WORST DAY OF MY LIFE

The trip from Paris to Boston should have only taken 8 hours. It ended up taking 25 hours.
My luggage weighed a total of about 75 kilos....170 pounds-ish.
I cried a lot.
I will try to make this as brief as possible...
7h - My luggage gets stuck in the elevator at my apartment. I somehow managed to forget that the inside doors don't close when it's obstructed a certain amount, yet the outside doors lock. I had to call my landlady to wake up the guardian to open up the elevator.
7h15 - My taxicab service has forgotten me for my 10h15 flight. I lived at least an hour away from the airpot. Call the service and they apologize to me, but tell me that they can't help me. The street cabs won't take me, and the numbers I call don't want to help me either.
7h45 - I am running with my luggage from the 88 bus I took to and through the RER station to get the train that goes to CDG. The RER stations are essentially riddled with staircases. I have about 4 flights to go down, and about 5 to go up. After my luggage falls down the stairs a few times, a bunch of guys helped me out by hauling them up the stairs with me to catch the next train. I'm dripping with sweat.
8h17 - I get on the RER train. I am calling the parents in the US to see if they can help me locate exactly where my flight is.
9h05 - I get off the RER train and start RUNNING through to my terminal. I am thinking I won't make it because my arms are about to fall off.
9h20 - I BARELY missed the cutoff for check-in by a few minutes, mostly because my flight was slightly delayed. I run to the passport check and am finally put in the front of the line to make my flight.
10h35 - I am put on my airplane and fall asleep. I end up talking and joking with the guy next to me on the flight for a few hours, watch "Michou d'Auber" and "Je Crois que Je L'aime".
**7 hours and 6 time zones later...**
12h45 - We land and go through customs for about an hour. I am told via voicemail that the flight to Boston has been cancelled and am put on a Manchester flight. That means I can't yet check my luggage until I make the domestic terminal. I get to the terminal and wait 2 hours (at least) in a crammed, chaotic line to be told that all of the flights to Boston AND Manchester have been cancelled for the day due to weather. Maybe I should try Laguardia?
14h45 - I call my family to find out all flights into Boston have been cancelled. I am directed to go from JFK to Penn Station to TRY to get a train out.
This is when I start sobbing and crying.
15h - I grab a cab (still crying) that accepts VISA (because my bank card, and cash, has been frozen because I was using it still in Europe?). He helps me out with luggage and promises to get me there, but that there is hour-long traffic into the city. My mom calls back to say I can't get a train to Boston (sold out), but that I have to take it to New Haven, where Dad and Aimee will bring me home. I cry more then fall asleep in the cab.
17h - I get to Penn Station and get my ticket. I grab an unwanted dinner and wait for the 15minutes-late train.
21h35 - I arrive to New Haven, where Aimee and Dad run to me, grab my bags, and drive me half dead and asleep in the back of the car.
I got home at 12:30 in the morning.
That's the general breakdown of it. Really, one of the worst experiences I've ever had in my life.

BUT NOW that I am, in fact, in the states again, it is time to say farewell to the Kim Is Foreign blog, and return to the Kim Is Domestic blog. Ciao, Paris. I love you, and will miss you

Last Night

The last day in Paris was busy!
I met up with Lorena for a goodbye lunch. Reminiscing.
Then we went to close my bank account.
Then I met up with Kendra for a goodbye beer and sorbet. Talked about life.
Then I ran home to clean my apartment as much as possible.
Then ran to meet up with Joris, his ex, Marion, Marie, and Steven at Les Halles for my last night. We ended up going to this Café Rive Droite. I had entrecote and felt like a million pounds. They spoke in fast French (of course) and I missed most of what was going on. I was stressed anyways, so I wasn't focussing very much. Too much had to be done before leaving.
Anyways, the reason we went to this bar was because it became a Karaoke night after 11pm.
The kids got drunk fast, and the karaoke got a lot more fun after that. They sang loudly and usually on pitch. More animation, and even some dancing!
The music was interesting, too. The French songs were ridiculous (like one about Mexico?), and the English songs were sung with some hilarious interpretations and accents.
They made me sing in a group with them to a French song I had never before in my life. So, that was the first problem. Second, language. Third, the French kids weren't even keeping up with the words in the song! Too fast! I just sang "lalalala" and it seemed to be alright. It was a song about being on the boats in the sea..."Emmenez-moi"? It was a lot of fun.
Then Liisa met up with us at the end. The laughs and fun continued. Marie kept saying "Do the chicken!" and I couldn't help but die of laughter every time. We all walked and sang and danced outside.
Marion and Marie are already planning on meeting up with me in NYC (and Boston), and Joris is thinking about joining us sometime, too. Let's hope.
It was really sad to say goodbye to Joris. He's one of my favorites. At least we'll keep in touch, but still, it was bittersweet. He's my boy! He gave me three bises, and he wanted me to know that that was special.
Liisa and I walked back to her flat and talked for a little more than an hour. Another sad (yet not forever) goodbye.
I hopped a cab and got home in time to take a nap before the next adventure began.

Tests, Luggage, and CHOCOLATE

Oh, Liisa, how you spoil my soul...
After my 2 hour final for my last class at Sciences Po (goodbye, french buddies! goodbye, Péniche! how sad), Liisa and I were successfully able to down 1 brownie, 2 servings of ice cream/gelato, and crême brulée (much like my arms...).
We went for a walk to Île Saint Louis to shop around for some final family gifts, but first got our initial chocolate fix. When we got to the shops, we realized we STILL had to try Berthillon ice cream before we cruised that, so we got 2 scoops. Shopped around on the lovely ITTY BITTY island. Then we went for a walk over to Institute Monde Arabe and the Bastille.
It's crazy when you have lived somewhere for a long enough time... you don't realize all of the areas and THINGS you miss out through your daily routine! It's sad that through our getting ready to leave we realize this too late.
Stopped at the opéra to PRAY for punk opera tickets, but to no avail.
Continued to walk around the area until we reached the restaurant that I first went to in Paris a year ago while staying in London: Centinaire. Still good, yup.
We talked and ate for 3 hours. That's when the crême brulée happened.
We walked home via Le Marais, and then said, "Our last stop will be our final bites of Amorino gelato." And we did.
What a nice, relaxing day....post-final, that is.

Now I'm packing. Had to repack the bags, after panickingly discovered I have to actually haul my luggage from connecting flights. I think I've successfully managed to roll everything possible, so now I have just 2 bags (how much they weigh? we'll find out later...). I'm an amazing packer...and yet, I have so much more to pack.
And I have to write 2 letters AS WELL AS clean the flat before I leave. Stress....

Karma Better Be True

Today I have yet again been cooped up in the flat studying for my final that's going to be in about 13 hours. I'm a master of procrastination.
I've discovered I cook and bake a lot when I'm stressed.
At least I haven't started cleaning the apartment, yet. That'll be tomorrow.

Oh, my shoulders are healing. They're peeling and they're mad disgusting looking, but at least I can move them around normally mostly. Things are looking up.

I went to Shopi for some things to make lunch and dinner for myself today. Grabbed my things and scooted out. I am not even a block away from my apartment when this really really really old lady (think at least 80s?) asks me if I have time to help her. I guess I did. She wanted me to assist her to the grocery store. Alright, I'll be a good person, I thought. I can spare 15 minutes walking this woman 2 minutes away.
Mom, I've found someone who is a lot slower than you. Think one foot in front of the other, long pause, repeat. It was really hard, and I spaced out a lot.
So I get the lady to the grocery store and she asks if I have more time to help her in the store. I didn't think I would be able to with my already-purchased-bag on me, but somehow she managed to get the guy to let me in. Another 20 minutes. I didn't know that helping her out was going to invest a lot of my studying time. But I felt bad just leaving her, so I just kept helping her.
I don't think she was entirely well in the head. She was kind of babbling about how "those colored women" (roughly translated from French) were taking care of other people's children. And she commented something along the lines of, "Oh, I know America...they speak English there, right? That's far away. I have seen your president on my TV." Oh, alright, then.
So I get her her groceries, and naturally she asks me to walk with them back to her apartment. Which is, in fact, further than my place is from the store.
So, a total of about 1 hour and 10 minutes today consisted of me doing a good deed by helping this old lady I didn't even know to and fro the grocery store and home. It was harder than I anticipated, and at the end I had to pardon myself to leave because my pot was still on the stove.
I got home and my couscous that I just cooked was cold.
I didn't know that people still were called to randomly to help little old ladies around town. I feel like such a chivalrous...man?

Because of my good deed, I baked a little cake for myself. Really good, actually, with added raspberry kicks to it.

Enough procrastination. Back to studying about public goods and IMF.

Even Buddha Eats Brownies

I've been kind of reclusive lately. Many of the people I like spending time with have already left or are unavailable for the time being. My apartment and I have had some quality time together...packing, cleaning, cooking...

The run yesterday was a joke. The gauze moves around so much I could barely go at a fast pace because when I tried my arms would scream in pain. A for effort?

Last night I went out with Alex and her other Aussie girlfriends to Buddha Bar. I was really expecting the bar to be a club of some sort, where you dance in the middle. But I was very, very wrong. It was a restaurant!!! With a bar on the balcony. Extremely well designed, very beautiful, but no dancing. The music was appropriate and very dancing friendly, if only the location was...we wanted to dance so much, but couldn't! We bought our 1 drink each that cost at least 3 times the normal amount, and relished in them for a few hours while we soaked in the atmosphere and shouted over the music.
It was kind of good that it wasn't a club because my shoulders are still throbbing, but regardless I would have liked to dance a bit.

I went home early enough to catch the métro. I went to bed around 2am, put on my alarm. It didn't go off, and I woke up 11 hours after I feel asleep. I better be well rested! Lazy day...

I baked brownies today, tried a new recipe I found on my favorite recipe site. They're full of cocoa. They're more cakey than brownies, but still taste alright. Lars is coming over to take them, I hope he likes them alright.

I should start studying for my final in 2 days...

Gauzed Up

Second degree burns, anyone?
Just got back from the doctor. She drained the massive shoulder issues I had. Then she put on these graffes (medicated, I assume) and lots of gauze on my arms. Told me I have to do it for 10 days, now.
It was probably one of the most disgusting visits at the doctor I've had for a while. She punctured my burn blisters and stuff came out and it was just not good looking.
But at least it's medicated now, and I should be better in about a week.
My shoulders still kill and I can still barely move my arms around too much without feeling like they'll rip off. The blouse I'm wearing has stains on the shoulders now, and my gauze is moving around a bit (ouch). But I'm on the path of healing, right?

Fête de la Musique

Nightmare.
It was a complete nightmare.
Well, our chorus had a concert to perform at the city hall near school. We didn't sing very well, but that's not surprising. The orchestra was out of tune and not in sync, but that isn't surprising either. One of Auriane's friends was singing with the orchestra a bunch of arias, and she was simply breathtaking! She was really a great soprano. The audience adored her, and so did we. Really a gem of a voice.
I said goodbye to my fellow choral members.
But the wasn't the nightmare.
So my sunburn blisters are ever increasingly worse. Have yet to go to the doctor. I'm trying to find Brandon because it's his last night in the city, so I want to say bye to him. But Fête de la Musique had officially invaded the entire city. I was walking through St. Michel trying to get some food of an edible sort (to no avail) before I met Brandon supposedly at Café Oz, and I was squished in a mob of people! And loud rock music was mixing from every corner! All of the restos were full, and the take out places crammed. I was being painfully pushed back and forth (via shoulders, of course) until I finally got to Châtelet to find out I had to go back towards my house to find Brandon.
École Militaire, here I came. So I finally got there through the MESS on the métro, and am in a LOT of pain (enough to be compelled to cry), and get to the apartment of one of Brandon's drinking buddies. One of the guys from the BBQ, which made it all the more interesting. I love Brandon, but his drinking buddies are not my favorite people in the world. Not my type of a good time nor conversation. Rimi and I left after an hour and the rest of them went towards school. I walked Rimi home and we stayed until 3am talking about everything.
I was going outside to catch a short taxiride (with Rimi beside me) when this guy comes up and tells me that there's no chance in my getting a cab during that night. He starts talking in English to us. Very nice guy. He offered to walk me most of the way. Normally, I'd say no, but for some reason I felt in my gut to take his offer. We walked towards home, and talked. He is this really interesting guy, comes from Russia, studied a bit at UChicago, and graduated from Sciences Po a year or two ago. He was researching organ trafficking, and we talked about my interest in human traffick. He gave me a lot of pointers. And we talked about travelling, where he insisted I go to Venice before I leave (where I insisted I couldn't if I tried). Nice guy, gave me his card when we parted. I'm really glad we met up, I could maybe find out a lot more from him.
Yeah, I gotta go to the doctor now, this blister thing is getting to be too much.

Marseilles & Aix

Marseilles was a pleasant surprise. Except for the second degree burns I've received from its sunrays (and I'm quite serious).
Kendra and I met up at Gare de Lyon to get the train there. Surprisingly, it was a short 3 hour trip. We talked the whole way and excitedly watched the really really pretty scenery pass us by.
We got into Marseilles and easily found our hotel near the station. After we dropped off our bags, we went out into the city for a little late night promenade.
Marseilles is dirty, I will admitt that. But it wasn't disgusting, it was just kinda like parts of NYC where they just can't keep up with the litter. And it smelled like NYC a lot during the day, or like seafood. I don't know why people complain about Marseilles so much, it's really quite pleasant. And to add to the trip, Kendra and I spoke in French most of the trip. That was fun, too.
Kendra and I stopped first to get a seafood dinner at a little plaza area Place Thiars. I ordered a bouillabaisse for us to share. I didn't realize how rich and gravy-like they were supposed to be. Full of fish, yes, but not exactly what I had in mind. Glad I did it, but I prefer the bouillabaisse in NYC....
After our nice dinner, we continued our walk down and around the port. We found a bunch of memorials and forts and nice rocky beach scenes. The only issue we really had was that men kept cat calling us as we walked around. It was constant during the whole trip, to the point where we tried avoiding going anywhere with men.
We got back to the hotel late because we discovered these crazy cow statues all over the city, and felt compelled to take pictures. But when we did get back, we crashed.

In the morning we woke up late and walked to their L'Arc de Triomphe to catch the bus to Aix en Provence. We stopped by a Tunisian bakery first though because we were curious as to what the treats tasted like. We bought a box of treats and split them all. Let me just say that I'm never eating treats again because they are completely LOADED with honey sugar and fried. We felt disgusting the whole day because of those treats, and it was only the first day!
Aix was really really nice, too. It's this small city with really nice architecture and everything is close to each other. The town, I know, has been used in lots of movies for its beauty and quaint places. We walked around, took pictures, joined the market that was all around the town, and even found Sciences Po Aix! Yes, we even went inside...
But unfortunately, it was far too hot to do any extensive walking without getting completely exhausted. So, after a few hours, we finally headed back to Marseilles where we tried looking for light dresses to wear and ended up concluding that a nap was much needed in our A/C room.
We woke up in the evening and decided to take one of the local busses around the city so we could see more. We went by the beaches and saw a lot of rocky shores. The view was really quite amazing. It ended at La Plage de Prado, where we got back on the bus to the port.
We then went out for dinner on the port again. This time it was all veggies and salade and fruit for me. I couldn't deal with the Tunisian overload, still. We chilled out until it was dark, which is when we went for another tour around Marseilles, and we ventured to the other side of the port to where the Hôtel de Ville is. We got very lost, found some really interesting streets and alley ways, and concluded the trip with a view of the Cathédrale de la Major, which looks strangely like the Duomo in Florence. I was interested in the Italian reminents I found in Marseilles. Some of the locals stopped us to talk, but their accents were very strong, so those didn't last too long.
Got to the hotel and crashed hard again.

The next day we had concluded to take a boatride around the Vieux Portes of Marseilles. It was funny because we were the youngest people on the boat as well as the only English speakers. Another 3.5 hours of pure French for us. The French people, you could tell, didn't know what to think about us.
But the boatride was breathtaking. The view of Marseilles (France's oldest city, you know) from sea itself was amazing to see. We were going past these huge rocks and coves and the water was so green and blue and fresh! The best part was we would go to these coves in the middle of nowhere that obviously had no ways of car transport, and yet people lived in these areas! There would be a resto, a café, and houses next to these boats! And the beaches looked amazing, too. The water was SO BLUE! And the villages were SO SMALL! But people were there, we saw them!
Kendra and I were so excited to see these really paradisal areas that we started singing and dancing on the boat. The French people stared.
We got back to quickly grab some food for the trip back to Paris and got onto the train with our fruit and cereal. That is when we discovered our really bad sunburns.
And now my sunburn has turned into a shoulderful of blisters that keep getting bigger and bigger.
I'm going to the doctor today, this is ridiculous (and PAINFUL).

Goodbye, Husband

Said goodbye to Pierre last night.
And Nicolas.
We spoke French most of the night, which was an interesting change for me with those guys. I wonder how I did.
Great guys, I'm really sad I had to say bye so quickly and soon.
And Nicolas is so hard to get a hold of!
I kept joking with Pierre to "have a nice life" and he kept giving me this roll of the eyes with "we'll talk! see you in a year!"
I hope he's right.
They made fun of my sunburn a little bit.
I was a bit ferclempt the entire way home.

The German Invasion

Friday Friday Friday? What happened? Well, I met up with Joris for a while, we went out with his other French friends for a pint (which was a panic purchase on my end since I didn't know what we were doing). Then we went for a drink with his best friend from home and their other friend from somewhere.
Then I went to Gare L'est to get Felix, the German. The little devil that is like a brother to me.
I got him at the station, partially buzzed because I hadn't eaten all day yet managed to have 2 drinks before seeing him. So that means I was speaking in Franglish and annoying poor his poor German self. He didn't feel too well either, unfortunately, so we opted to eat at a brasserie near my apartment so I could have an omelette and he could stomach something light.
The restaurant was cute, but there was a half-crazy-half-wasted man making the most peculiar shrieks at the bar during our hour long meal. Disturbing.
After a nice meal nevertheless, I coaxed him into seeing the Eiffel Tower after the rain stopped a bit. Thinking it was going to be a quiet, leisurely walk, we started our stroll. Then we hit the Woodstock of Paris: le fin du bac. The Bac is the test all French students need to take to pass high school. Ridiculous, yes. And the afterparty has tribal drums, boozing teenagers, and rompous acts of negligence. Felix, being the old man he is, kept saying, "Damn kids...I'm too old for this...with their wreckless drinking...I just want to have a quiet night..." Which reminded me of a grumpy grandpa. So we walked up to the Trocadero to watch the tower sparkle. And within 30 minutes, Felix became well acquainted and rather professional with my personal camera, MUCH moreso than I have ever been.
That was followed by a long walk back.

The next day was started by a trip to the boulanger for some croissants by a sick Felix AND a sick Kim, and a stop at Concorde so we could stroll through the Champs Élysées to look at the concept shops. Felix, being the small-town boy he is, complained most of the day about the amount of walk I made him do. I told him to get a grip.
Metroed over to the Notre Dame area and took more pictures. Went into the cathedral. It was still pretty, but laden with uncaring tourists who were disregarding the notion that Notre Dame is supposed to be a place of worship. Felix took pictures. And complained about the amount of walking he had to do.
I made him walk around school and that area because I had to go to Auriane's birthday meeting over by Odéon. Sure, it was raining, but he didn't seem to mind that. I brought Auriane a little gift, and it was a pleasant little get together. Calm. Felix kept asking me, "This is the French way to paty???" No, Felix. I had this fruit drink called "La Vie En Rose" which tasted like candy! Auriane's boyfriend from England was quite charming, quiet, but we shared a nice conversation. Auriane tried to get me to slip into the British accent, but to no avail.
We finally left the bar and Brandon joined us to get dinner at this really great little place nearby called Del Papa. I'm kinda sad we found this place now; the Italian food was sooo good! And they thought that I was the only one in the group who spoke French, which is funny beause Brandon can speak circles around me. They asked for stories from my "doughnut grandmother", which left them in awe.
Anyways, a very fulfilling and decently priced dinner was followed with us stuffed kids grabbing a gelatto at Amorino's (of course). Quite a deliciously Italian night, if I do say so myself.
Brandon then decided to write his 3 papers at my place that night (which, about 36 hours after that, he's STILL here...working). He didn't do work, though, because Liisa came over and we watched "Zoolander".

Sunday we woke up a bit late, took our time, and Felix and I finally sally forthed to Le Louvre. It rained all day, but it was alright because Felix wanted to spend HOURS in there. Now, remember, I've been there 7 times about now, and I've walked through most of it, but Felix wanted to see it ALL. Twice. Mind you, I'm very sick with a sinus infection now, with no food in the system. It was hard to stay standing, let's say that much. By the end of it, I was glad that the museum closed earlier than usual because it forced us to go home.
Cooked some at night, talked some, joked some, helped Brandon with his work, and slept.

Too bad Felix woke up really late today and made me sprint to Gare L'est (because he can't function travelling alone) so he wouldn't miss his train at 7h24. I didn't get to have a nice morning with him. He made it, though, don't worry.

Grades Roll In

A word to men on cheek kissing: If you gently hold the woman's head while you kiss her on the cheek (and I mean kiss well, none of those nonchallant bises), it'll make her swoon.
........
Moving right along.
Passed marketing officially. Aced my papers for European Business Environment and French Opera. Was officially one of the worst students in my French class, but still passed and was told I did an excellent job and improved a lot.
I made friends with yet another German today while in chorus. He is this pleasant guy from the Erasmus program at Paris I. We talked in Franglish. He ended up walking around with me for a short while after practice and showed me this city-wide festival called Designer's Day. Basically, a lot of designer stores around Paris are having open house parties with free flowing champagne and wine and hors d'oeuvres and everything. I also ate this really funky ice cream on vegetables thing.....it was weird tasting. But it was a very interesting way to cap off the day.
I hate the dog that lives next door.
In other news, did you know it was actually physically possible to rip someone's testacles off???

Goodbye, Caterpillar

Peter bought me a red rose.
It was his last night.
People came over to my place for dinner last night while I made a quick dinner and 2 desserts (brownies and cookies). It was a nice calm dinner for most of the end, but the beginning was a bit chaotic because I poorly planned the blasted thing. Oh well, moving right along.
Peter kept talking about he was worried it was the end of his life / the world, then would tell us all about he's going to change his life in Scotland around.
My little boy has grown up so much this semester. I met him his first day in Paris, and he was like a little kid scared and ornery. And now? He's this guy! This guy who makes some decisions and can woo girls and stay off the liquor on his own accord and is sweet and funny and caring! I'm so proud of him and how far he has come along with us.
Afterwards, Brandon Lorena Peter and I went to Chez George for Peter's final bar in Paris.
Lorena and I danced. Brandon encouraged me and helped boost my self esteem. Peter was being noble and socializing over bottles of wine.
I finally had to leave, though, to catch the last métro. Peter got a little teary eyed. He gave me a huge and long bear hug, kissed me a bunch of times on the cheek, telling me how much he loved me and how much I did for him and all of that. I promised him we would still be seeing each other, I promise. He bought me the rose as I left.
Peter the caterpillar has butterflied.
I was a bit weepy the entire time getting home, and I am keeping that rose for as long as possible.

Ponts Et Galas

Yesterday was chaos.
So, I was running all around to get to things on time. Class happened. Kendra and I went to Angelina to drink hot chocolate, excessively, and to eat salads like somewhat decently good but not really girls. Ran to Rimi's to sew up my dress. Then I ran late to my dîner de conference with my French class.
We met at Pont des Arts. This bridge is where loads of people go to eat and drink with friends. It's basically a social bridge. Hard to explain. It's always packed, and usually full with very drunk teenagers and not-as-drunk older adults.
Anyways! Everyone (except me) brought something to munch on. We feasted on a lot of interesting concotions. Our teacher brought some red wine from his hometown, Tours (which we bonded over). It was a really nice 2 hours on the bridge, drinking wine, talking in French, bonding with my French class not in the classroom. Really cool kids. I talked mostly to my teacher (who looks 30 but is 41...which is why I need to move to France), a girl from Buenos Aires, and a guy from Slovakia. Lots of laughs. We talked a lot. Mixed up the languages a bit; Spanish, English, Polish, French, some others...I really really had a nice time with them, casually lounging on the bridge...until it started to pour rain.
So, I ran back to Rimi's apartment to get ready for the Gala. The Gala is basically Sciences Po's strong (yet not quite satisfying) attempt at making an American prom. Huge differences: It was an open alcohol bar, 2 club levels, an outside, and HUNDREDS OF DRUNK FRENCH KIDS! But more on that later...
It took Rimi and I about 2 hours to get me prepared for the Gala. Makeup, hair, jewelry...it was all a hot mess. We laughed a lot, and poor girl got really confused when she was trying to apply eye shadow on me....because I don't have Asian eyes.
I got to the Institute Mondial Arabe for the Gala an hour into it. The building is magnifiscent, that's for sure. The line, though, was 30 minutes long. I was all alone. Made friends with a nice foreign girl. We hit it off and joked about what we expected.
Finally got in, and took another 30 minutes to fail at getting a free drink. Too many drunk kids were more aggressive than me. Oh well.
I saw José walking around in uniform, so I slid over to bug him. He was not in a very happy mood, telling me that he didn't know why he came, that he didn't know anyone, and yet he had so many girls to dance with.
Oh, poor baby. No pity.
So we hung out for about 30 minutes or so. We went up to the beautiful balcony to talk a bit, but he was constantly distracted by other people and started talking to his other friends he found on the way. I ended up waiting for him to stop talking to others than talking to him myself. By the end, he implied that he was going to leave and that I wouldn't see him until next semester when he does exchange at Westpoint. Thinking about how big of a jerk move it was, I let him walk off with a group of other kids, and I was officially not enjoying the formal.
And my other friends there were either running and managing the night (aka too busy to have fun) or with a bigger group of friends I didn't know at all.
Luckily, I found Annelise the Australian girl I've known since the beginning. We we both disappointed in the night, but then concluded to go have fun downstairs in the club area anyways, despite it all. We found some of the other international kids she's close with (who were all moderately to extremely inebriated), and we ended up enjoying ourselves dancing and goofing off on the dance floor for about an hour. I even met up with the girl from the line. She decided we were best friends or something...
Finally, however, I concluded to leave at last. But the girl from the line insisted on going up to the balcony with me anyways. Alright, drunk girl, I'll humor you. So we go up, and I look around, and I find Joris! My favorite! The one working the night! So I went over to him, and he absolutely made my night. He was excited to see me, was the first person to tell me I looked nice ("Looking cute!" is what he said, and that I looked like Carrie from "Sex In The City" --a New York woman -- to be honest) and talked with me. And he looked dashing! He was taking time to talk to me, and I felt so cool. He was cutting convos short with other people to talk to me. I told him that I was going home then, and so he decided to escort me downstairs. He ended up walking me outside (it helped that he wanted to smoke) and we talked for about an hour outside
Saw José leave with some random girl, which he tried to skirt away from saying bye to me again. Oh, not cool.
I went home and fell asleep around 4h30, exhausted, and slept through my class.
Anyways, thank goodness for Joris. He made my night officially.

Driving Through Normandy

This weekend I went with friends to the Normandy coasts. Because Paz insisted on not waiting for when Liisa was available to drive and no one else was of age, I was assigned to rent and drive a car. Driving in Europe, check. One less thing to not have done in life. It was an adventure, for sure. Though, I think the 12 hours was a bit excessive. And I was promised a Mercedes, but received a Citroën instead.
So, on Saturday morning, I was the only person on time to leave. Then we had to wait for an extra hour or so because Lorena and Brandon (the other driver) had slept through their alarm clocks and we had to call and wake them up. Being one of my huge pet peeves, I had to fume a bit and walk around the station for an hour.
What really sucked about the trip was that essentially the GPS unit was given to me, and the couple stayed in the back to make out all 12 hours and cuddle and everything, while poor Rimi tried hard to stay awake to keep me awake and living, and I drove. And drove.
And Brandon's car had a lot of fun because they actually all talked and sang and didn't depend on an obnoxious GPS system to figure the way for them.

Anyways, the first place we stepped off to was Caen to see William the Conqueror's fortress. Not extremely impressive. Basically just this big walled park with a church and museum in it in the middle of some old town. It was on a lovely hill. Nice cathedral outside. And it was free. Pleasant, but I think we stayed there a little bit long.
Next we voyaged to Bayeaux to see the Tapestry. The museum was super simple, but I thought it was remarkable. Simple, but it worked. They give you audio guides and you walk around the 70 meter tapestry while listening to the explanations of everything. It really is an amazing piece of art. And there was a whole lot of DDay Vets at the museum. They were excited to see a bunch of American kids, so one man particularly continued coming back to talk to us. He was really adorable.
As we drove to the beaches, we literally came into a wall of fog. Sunny one minute, all of a sudden engulfed in this thick soup of fog. It was very eery, especially since it was the week of the anniversary...
We made it to the American Cemetery on the beaches just before it was getting ready to close. The fog really added to the somber atmosphere of the huge site. Beautiful fountains. A cliff over the beaches (that we went down to, and were not completely impressed with....it was a beach, but we were expecting more). The graves were absolutely beautiful. I hate to be walking around graves and taking pictures, but it was so artistically done and beautiful that I couldn't help it. Fog, too! Taps were being played while they lowered the flags, and then we were kicked out of the park.
The last stop of the day was (again, for me) Mont St Michel. We were there the same weekend that the big Marathon was happening, so it was packed with fans and tourists and runners and all. The hotel was nice, clean, and modern. And only 2km from the mount. So, we walked at night to it. Got a bit in the way of the marathon runners.
I am amazed at marathon runners. They really are inspirational. 47km?! And such perseverance! I'm tempted to try training for one, just to be able to do it and say I have. I think it's something to investigate when I stay a little more rooted...
Damn, can Rimi eat. She was hungry always and ate a lot!
The mount is actually nicer at night when everyone's left. We waited for about 40 minutes for the other car to get there so we could eat at one of the restos at the top of the mount. It was a nice dinner, and there were fireworks going on outside on the waterfront, so we enjoyed the view. After we ate, we walked around the city walls and got lost a bit. It was really nice to walk around without a lot of people crowding the streets, and it is so well lit at nighttime! Even walking through the little cemetary was interesting! It really was something I'm glad to have done. We joked off at the top of the mount (when we finally reached it...), and I dropped my sunglasses down probably 3 or 5 stories! Don't worry, they still function quite well (thanks, $5 sunglasses from Target!). Brandon grew into taking pictures of the group while going down stairs. Not a good idea. But we still enjoyed it all.
We walked back to the hotel after they turned off all of the lights of the city, which was a bit creepy, and hard to see things. Luckily, the marathon had just ended the parties, so cars lit our way back on the road.

The next day we woke up early to go to the grocer's next to the hotel to buy our breakfast. I bought a box of chocolate cereal that I ended up finishing that day.
We roamed around the mount again, only this time we had a time limit and were mainly interested in going through the Abbaye. Having already gone through the abbey, I joined up with a French tour, and got yelled at by a bunch of the french folks because I didn't realized it was a private group. Oops.
We left to hit up the cape town Saint Malo for lunch. It really is an adorable seaport town, walled with bricks, tightly nooked buildings. And lots of sea and boats and yachts. Because we didn't have lots of time, though, we only had an hour to look around fast, eat lunch, and scoot out. The parking itself took 20 minutes. So we basically had time to walk in, eat pizza and an ice cream cone, and leave again.
The trip back was agony. 4 hours turned to about 5.5/6 hours from the traffic. I was fuming because Paz insisted on being rude to me the entire trip, and then continue to snuggle in my rearview mirror. And so by the end of the trip, I was on the verge of tears from frustration and aggrivation and I busted out of that car ASAP.
I wish I didn't have to spend so much time in the car and more time with my friends in the other car.

Some Finishing Educational Touches

Had my final for Marketing on Friday. Done.
Passed French class.
Got my final paper back in EBE and did well. Just a final left for that.
Negotiations is done.
French opera is the only unsure one.

It's getting close to the final stretch. 16 days left. Not ready yet.

Some Poetry

Gencho invited me to a poetry reading on Tuesday. I don't know how he got the idea that I was super into poetry, but I'm not.
Nevertheless, despite not feeling great, I got myself up and out and -- in the baggiest outfit I think I have -- looking for a bunch of American and French poets.
Don't know how, but I managed to get pretty lost for roughly 30 minutes before I even got to the club the reading was at. Stopped and asked a bunch of local bartenders, who flirted with me before giving me the answer I wanted.
Got to the reading, and it was just as I thought it'd be. It was in a cave, so it was darkly lit (oh, the ambience...). I walk into the basement to find a bunch of people lounging on the floor and scattered chairs to listen to this woman silhouetted in the corner reading poetry. Some was French, some was English.
I didn't feel like sitting down, so I stayed in the hallway just next to the reading and listened. Gencho tried to get me into the room, but I refused.
I do like poetry. I think that those can write good poetry are marvelously intelligent. But I think that some people into poetry use it as a form of mental masturbation and really are taking themselves too seriously or deeply.
The woman was writing a passionate letter to Henry Ford. Oh, alright.
The last guy wrote only in French. I liked him the best. His were humorous yet provokative. One was about how different groups of people count to 15, another was about the different ways of thinking (or not thinking to think, or thinking to not think...).
I left early, much to Gencho's dismay.

Day Trip Toute Seul

Today I woke up at 5h30 and got to Gare Montparnasse around 7h. I had a return trip to go to Rennes that I was supposed to go with Joris on, but since he had a final pop up that day I was not going to let my ticket go to waste.
I had a long train ride to Rennes, where I was in a twilighted sleep that makes you roll your neck around and eventually makes you feel kind of motion sick. But I finally got into Rennes.
When in the city, I looked for the bus times to Mont St Michel. Much to my dismay, I had 2 hours to kill before it left. I went for a stroll on the big street to discover a little about Renes.
Old city from the 11th century, small and intimate. It was like a smaller version of London with Parisian imitation. The buildings in the area I was in were newer, and I mean the ugly art-deco types. I didn't get very far because my stride was small since I kicked my ass in an hour of yoga the day before.
Got onto the 1.5 hour busride to Mont St Michel. Another rolling-of-the-neck trip.
And then Mont St Michel comes into view. It was like hearing Common Man playing in the background. It was huge, intimidating, looming. Beautiful. We got out of the bus and I could only look up for the first few minutes. But I had only 4 hours before the last bus back to Rennes, so I hopped to it as fast as possible.
Did I mention yet that tourists are infestations? I know I am one, but these people come in swarms, I promise you! And the worst ones I would say are the Scottish, Americans, and Japanese (or, more general, Asians). The city was completely riddled with people, and I could barely walk forward let alone hear myself think. The shops were all tourist shops now. And the restos were in English, too. Made me feel guilty being there.
Anyways, the Mount is basically this enormous hill where you have to walk up ramps and LOTS of stairs. Lots. I enjoyed that part a bit because I felt like I was getting somewhere, and most of the tourists seemed to be apprehensive of climbing the steps, so remained on the lower grounds.
The abbey itself is interesting. There is no real furniture in it, but I don't think it really needs it. The architecture is stunning. And there are so many nooks and crannies in the structure that you could surely get lost for HOURS in the place if you didn't have the museum signs and arrows everywhere. The bigger chapel in the abbey had a service while I was there. I was intrigued to watch it in this magnificent background, and tourists in their sneakers and fanny packs sitting down to take vigil. And then a little girl started screaming. Enough with that, I'm out. I somehow got stuck in some Eastern European school trip. German? Russian? Something else? I'm not sure. I think there might have been 2 trips, because I know I heard German, but then there was another more Slavic language being spoken that confused me.
I didn't take too long in the Abbey, mostly because I know I'll be back in a few days with the gang. So I went for a walk around the gardens and walls. The island has so many different staircases and pathways! I don't know how I ended up where.
Ended up finding a little restaurant that wasn't too crowded to eat an omelette at. But it wasn't good, they had the hardest time keeping track of who ordered what, despite the small crowd. The women forgot I was there, forgot what I ordered, forgot THAT I ordered. Agh, frustration. The omelette was foamy (yes, for real) but tastey. This old American couple sat next to me and were completely hopeless. Couldn't read French, and tried to do that thing Americans do, "Excuse-ay-mwa? I'll have umm..le wah-terrr? Si, wah-terrr." Oh, no. And they were looking at the menu as if it were in another alphabet. I asked them if they needed help, in which they said yes and asked lots of questions. They ended up still messing up the order so I guess I wasn't too much help. And they asked a lot about me and why I was in France, they were telling me that they were with tour group that was going all over France. It didn't sound like they were enjoying the trip too much, despite their patience, discouraging me more to ever take a tour trip somewhere else in the world.
Walked some more, shopped, strolled on the ocean side. Read my French book. It was a calm day, aside from the mayhem of tourists.
Waiting for the bus back, I started talking to this Japanese couple. They knew NO FRENCH. And were trying hard in English. They liked that I was from NY. They were on their honeymoon. They insisted on taking a picture with me. And now, somewhere in Japan, I will forever be in someone's honeymoon album as "the girl from nyc that we met in france".
Back in Rennes, had 2 hours to kill before my train. Read, ate a salad. Mounted the train, and that was that.

Blech

Haven't been feeling super hot lately.
Stomach ache. Realized I've lost a lot of muscle while being here. Just overall gross feeling.

Cooked on Saturday. Had a small group of only 6 of us! That was the smallest group I've cooked for here!
I went to the Salvador Dalí Museum with Kendra on Sunday. It was really amazing. I didn't realized how many sketches Dalí actually drew! And he was really into randomness. I really like his works a lot. Some more than others, of course, but overall he's one of my top 5.
I love the fact that his melted clocks were based on a train of thought at a dinner party. He was glancing at a wheel of camembert cheese, and was somehow brought to thinking about how time was fluid...and thus he went from point A to point Q3 in one swift step. I feel like I relate to his way of thinking a whole lot. The only difference is that his was considered a form of genius, while mine is considered a handicap.
Kendra and I afterwards went for a nice long walk. Just talking. It is fun because we just talk, and none of it matters, yet, it does. Anyways, we ended up going to the Cimetière de Montmartre and roamed around the not-so-little city of dead people. We found Adolphe Sax, and since she's an avid saxophone player, she was very happy to see him. Another 2 hours of walking around the city and we parted ways.
Peter was over my place the entire time working on my computer. He bought pizza (blech) out of grattude. Note: Peter lost one of his front teeth in a drunken tumble. That means I had to cut his pizza up (like a mom for a 2 year old) in little pieces. He then went off about how he was straight-edge from now on, changed man, alcohol ruins people, blah blah blah.
Yesterday, I officially finished writing papers for Sciences Po. I also finished my course in economic negotiations. The debate was about US & EU negotiations about steel. Not terribly interesting, but a bit. I passed my french final. My prof even told me that I have progressed a lot. High five.
I met up with Piere and we got a really fast tea at the Mosquée. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I just felt aggressive the entire time. It's nice to see him, and to see that he's no longer running around frantic trying to juggle everything. But it's too bad I'm leaving soon and we can't spend a lot more time hanging out. This goes for most people, though, I guess.
I ran into a lot of people before I got home from class last night.
Particularly, I ran into José on the street. He started going off about this weekend and how busy it was and how he didn't even have time to sleep.....and I had no idea why he was telling me all of this, until I realized he was using it as an excuse for something. I just wanted to ask him if he got his ticket for the Gala. Which he did. The other stuff I couldn't have cared less about. Oh, people.

What Was That?

Raining, raining. Always raining. It's been like this mostly all week.
I have been doing normal lifestyle things again; eating lunch with friends, studying and goofing off with Joris at the BDE lounge, making more French friends based on my American status.
Jogging...meetings for projects...laundry....
On Wednesday, Joris was giving me crap (he still goes) about buying Ladurée macarons. I bought them for the dinner party, with a bottle of wine! He'll have none of it. Oh whatever...
At least he was nice and bought me my ticket for the Gala, since I lack a checkbook here.
Liisa and I ended up eating the macarons before even getting to dinner with Gencho the Bulgarian and José...they were chocolate! Can you blame us really? As women??? No matter, we were an hour late for the dinner anyways because we got lost at Les Halles to find out we actually needed to be at Comédie Française right next to the Louvre....a bit of an inconvenient walk, but it was alright because we were girl talking and enjoying the not-as-rainy weather. Gencho had to actually find us in the end because we were clueless....
Dinner was absolutely great....long time talking....we had a bit too much fun...and ended up staying later than expected...there was lots and lots of wine...... we had the most interesting conversations...ahem...
Gencho was hitting on engaged Liisa, which was hilarious. José (who cooked, by the way, from a book called en français, "Meals for Men to Cook in Order to Woo Women") took off his shirt at the dinner table to show us his manly chest...which takes a lot more explaining that I don't wish to get into here...and Liisa and I were in complete shock the whole night. It was just a fun night.
Thursday was easy going; woke up for class that was cancelled. Studied for french final that I took for 2 hours (wrote an essay about national identity in the EU, good times). Chorus was boring of course, though Lars from Germany and I had fun as the only "men" there. I had to sightsing all of the music, though music because this new tenor came to sing the second tenor lines, but he is completely tonedeaf and I had to help him by keeping him on pitch (super)....after which, Bonnie thanked me for everything that I do, and in English! Shocker.
Liisa and I got dinner at 2 magots again after that. We HAVE to stop those dinners out, they're REALLY SERIOUSLY killing my financial stability (or lack thereof). But we, as always, had an excellent dinner and conversation together. We spent hours just talking, venting, reflecting on life...things that we don't do with the other people.
Oh yeah, and I got that internship that I interviewed for. I'm a bit scared, though, because they have designated me as a leader of a group of interns while I'm still here in Paris. What does that even mean? I haven't the foggiest idea... I have to start work ASAP on that all, too...
Our final presentation in marketing worked out pretty well. The class was shocked at our ideas. No bad comments. Though, Joris harassed me all throughout class.
now, working on a paper....