Melting Brains

Should you want a visual, I'll be cooped up in here for the year.

Well, the first week of classes is over. It was a lot of information, but a decent primer for the "fun" we have coming to our class in the next few weeks. The program has all of the classes packed in a 6-week schedule - that way the rest of the time we can slave work away at the many large academic projects we have to finish before May 31st (we have a 1.5x longer break than the rest of the school). If you think about it, though, a 3-month semester is a frightfully short period of time to pack in so much information into my brain. I am  nervous about doing well, considering the amount of work I see in front of me.

But hey! We celebrated the end of the week by rallying as many classmates together as possible for some drinks at the campus bar. I enjoyed an early evening talking to water nerds over cocktails and beers...surrounded by college kids.

I still cannot get over the fact that I am going to be on a real campus for the next year. NYU was such a different beast in regards to geography and lifestyle; there, we were city slickers who happened to go to class between work/friends/parties. The people who walked past me were New Yorkers, and I never knew to where anyone was going. A gallery opening? A boardroom? An audition?

At UQ, on campus, anyone who walks by me is a student. And I know they're a student. And they know I'm a student. How surreal! I keep thinking to myself, this isn't reality!

Today it was hot out. Uncomfortably hot. The thermometer tried to trick me by saying it was only 86F out...but I knew better. The humidity - attached to the sun and the warmth - made it feel more like the late 90s in temperature. I was melting all over the pavement.

The water ladies and I met up early in the morning to go to the City Welcome Festival - a day the city council puts together for us international students. There were booths filled with swag for students in hopes to gain some of our pocket change. We went to a few booths for free things (notepads and bags), the  sun beat us unforgivably with rays of death. We did not last very long, and quietly bumbled our way to get some groceries before heading to our cooler, not-so-sunny flats.

I ended up holing up in an air-conditioned library at school for the better part of the day, reading hundreds of pages of required reading for next week's classes, and writing critiques of each of them. I forgot that is how the weekend looks for graduate students - squirreled away in libraries reading and thinking and writing and having mild panic attacks.

For the next year, I will be spending my weekend hours staring at text, trying to make sense of it all. And writing things in my computer about how smart I want people to think I am.

Parties and Customer Service

Denise and I went to a rooftop party Saturday night in town. I was reluctant to go, but she wanted me to come so she could rub in my face a little bit that she won our month-long bet. The bet? That she wouldn't be able to resist dating a single man during the month of March. I was sure she'd lose - but alas! she's got will-power. So she was on the prowl on Saturday, and now I owe her a very nice dinner.

Well, rooftop party is a bit of a misnomer. We were on top of a building, yes...but it was an indoor parking garage. The party attendants looked in dismay up towards the tower next to the parking lot upon arrival. We were told a rooftop party, not a parking lot party. But I guess it was for the best, because the fog was thick and the top of the Kigali City Tower was hidden between misty clouds and hazy lights. Their drinks were expensive and yet cheap, if you know what I mean. But, TIA.

Clubbing in Africa

I forgot to mention last night that yesterday's lunch was brought to you by my financing co-worker, Robert. He invited Denise and me to his house for lunch with his wife and child. Well, alright, Denise invited us, and Robert couldn't say no.

We walked through the quiet streets of Kibagabaga and arrived to a nice little simple house on a bit of a hill. Robert's wife is beautiful and very kind and sweet. Her English wasn't great, so we spoke French occasionally so she could be part of the conversation. The little girl was absolutely adorable. I think she was about one years old, and she really enjoyed jumping around.

The meal was extreme! I thought we'd really just have some rice and beans, a simple lunch. But Robert's wife pulled out all the stops for us - Rice, chips, plantains, boiled meat in a spicy sauce, and cassava leaves. The cassava leaves were kind of stewed like the Indian dish, saag. It was very much like spinach, with a creamier taste to it. The meat was...well, the meat here seems to be mainly liver, which I personally find unappealing. But the sauce was nice! Oh, and Fanta. I didn't realize we'd be eating like kings, and I ate a hearty amount, in part to be polite and in part because I was hungry. But oh man, in hindsight, I stuffed myself silly.

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...

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.

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.

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.

Sarkozy?! Really?!

Yesterday I stumbled upon a Brocante (flea market-type fair) on a street by my flat. It was great! All antiques! The best part was when I stumbled upon a stack of (organized) antique post cards from around the world! Used postcards (written and posted) with pictures of Paris and London from 1850s-1900s. In a moment of pure genius, I found about 14 postcards to buy (22 euros ain't bad...) so I can make a framed memorial to my loved European cities. What gems!
Joris and I meet up and went out for a Greek dinner. We talked in French (as usual with my select few French friends), and I thanked him for his incredible patience.
We met up later on with Liisa (plus her Italian friends, her African coloc and his African buddies) and went out to dance at a salsa club, Latina Café. We had so much fun ALL NIGHT! I forgot how fun that kind of music and dancing was! Joris was a complete blast and danced with us like there was no tomorrow. He'll be in Barcelona next year, so I told him we were just trying to prepare him.
Liisa and I ended up missing the last metro, so I walked her home (in heels) and took a cab home.

Today was beautiful! I meandered to school to watch some Free Jazz at this week's festival. I forgot how much I missed music. After a while, though, it turned into smooth jazz, so I scooted out. And I walked.
Since it was the first Sunday of the month, all museums in France are free admission. So, I went to Musée Rodin for a while, walked around the grounds. Grabbed a nice salad dish in the garden there, and was surrounded completely by birds. Nearby French people laughed as I battled birds for property rights.
Afterwards, I walked through the Esplanade over to the Grand + Petit Palais for more museum joy. Something I love about Sundays in the spring/summer in Paris: everyone gets out and goes to the grassy areas. Soccer here, spooning couple there. It's wonderful. I think I could stay here longer.....
Much to my dismay, I got to the museums too late, and they closed as soon as I walked in. No matters, I got what I paid for.
And a nice, long walk home. Discovered some delightful areas I have never ventured to before, which I hopefully will investigate further.
Attempted to make fried tomatoes, and failed miserably. Even lit my frying pan on fire.
And then the French elections happened.....................WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?! Ségolène Royale was such a good candidate; Sarkozy is soo not the right person to run this country! And the votes in all of France were completely divided: Sarkozy won with 53%, while 47% of France was completely left in the dust. What kind of system was that?!!?!?! I'm very, very disappointed in society right now. And a bit upset with the French. My hopes of being a French citizen are forever (or at least 5 years minimum) shot. Unless I marry one.

Schumann to Scala

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.

La Grippe

After 2 days straight being bed ridden because of the influenza (because, despite its perfections, Paris does spread the flu), I feel like quickly telling of my Friday night.
Liisa and I met up with one of her Finnish friends from home (redundant?). She asked me to come along because she said she doesn't enjoy his company very much, seeing as he was a real
"snob" of a guy. I, being the supportive friend, obliged to play buffer.
He was a rather pretentious guy from some ENS or some other big school. Went to SciPo for his u-grad. And he was just brimming with self-appreciation and critique. I know many people like him. I could tell he was sizing me up the whole time. I decided to play at his own game.
We went to this place near the Sorbonne for dinner, called Le Petit Prince (oh so appropriately fitting his demeanor). Though the thought of food is slightly revolting to me right now, I can objectively say that the meal was excellent. A little pricey, but well worth it.
The table talk was amusing; he grilled me for about 2 hours. And about newspapers, too! What do I think about the Herald? The WSJ? The NYT? The BBC news? The Financial Times? Le Monde? Well, apparently I passed with flying colors and impressed him. I didn't stumble with any of the newspapers, and I (putting on my pretentious facade for him) was adding some good old BS intellectual jargonated opinions. He loved me. It was great. And you could tell that, as soon as he called me a "liberal", he lightened up tremendously and chilled out! He started goofing off a bit (thinking he was with someone of intellectual equal, I presume), and even agreed to go out to get a drink after dinner. He actually wasn't that bad of a guy, once he took off the holier-than-thou impression.
We went to this bar in Mouffetarde that I strongly recommend not going to: Student's Bar. They pushed us in and out all too hastily. Terrible service, even for France's standards.

Liisa's Italian friends called up and asked us to go to this posh club with them, Showcase. So we met up with them and sally-forthed to the club. Liisa and I, unfortunately, were the only sober kids in the group, making it a little confusing to get to this said club.
Now, mind you, I'm not much of a club-goer. So I was just hoping it'd be some nice little place I could cool the jets off in some corner. Ohhhhh, noo......
This place freaked me out the moment we realized we had to go UNDERNEATH a bridge by the Seine. The bridge over by Esplanades des Invalides. I always think that there are ogres under bridges. And now I know the truth; I'm right.
We get into this bar/club/disco place, and there's this sad excuse for a band playing. Liisa and I, knowing quite a bit about music, were rather offended by their music. And one of the guys was wearing this frilly girl's shirt, which was not pleasant to watch. And the drinks were expensive, so we bought one and called it quits. After a while, I started to realize that everyone at the club were probably on something....
And the Italians were wasted within the first 30 minutes.
We tried dancing for a while, but after about an hour I finally asked Liisa if we could just go. I wasn't having enough fun to stay (or want to come back, for that matter). We had a lovely walk back to school and after I dropped her off at her flat, I hailed a cab.
The next day I woke up completely and utterly sick, called an emergency doctor, and stayed in bed... And though I asked for an English-speaking doctor, I got a French-speaking one. Oh well, it took a bit, longer, but we did the job. And she put me on the WEIRDEST diet ever!!!! Cheeses, meats, yogurt......everything I normally don't eat! And I've been too sick to even stomach the idea of cereal, so it's been a quiet digestive few days...

I Smell French Toast!

What HAVE I been doing all this time? Well....lots.

Thursday
I was supposed to get lunch with Dad's friend, Etienne. But, when I got to his perfume boutique, Juan informed me that there was a death of a friend, so Etienne was in the country. Juan took me out to lunch, instead. This itty bitty Italian brasserie hidden on some side street near Pompidou. I didn't know WHAT was on the menu, so Juan agreed to order for me. We talked in French for most of the time, and I felt awesome about it. He's more nervous about talking in English than I am about French! That was encouraging. Unfortunately, he was called back early to the office for an interview with Elle Magazine or something, so he left me (luckily with a paid bill) with half of his meal to finish.
Feeling encouraged about my French skills, I concluded to go join the Sciences Po Chœur. I get in, and realize that my French actually DOES suck. They were talking SO quickly that my head was spinning! I didn't know WHAT was going on, let alone what I was singing or how I should sing it. The group is almost completely women. The leader of the group remembered that I emailed him about volunteering for the tenor section, so I was with one other guy (who sings like an opera tenor diva) on the tenor part. He was laughing at me the entire time because I looked (and felt, and was) completely lost. Nice guy, really. His name is Etienne. Aaaand apparently I have a concert in about a week or two. That wouldn't be such a problem if the chorus wasn't "bad" and if I knew how to access a piano somewhere in this city!!! (Thank god Juan today volunteered to let me into his dorm at the cité to use the piano.)
And THEN, after chorus, I brought 2 of the other exchange students (Liisa from Finland and Bastien from Germany) out with me to meet up with the gang (being, Rahul, Paz, Peter, and Brandon) for dinner at this Mexican joint. The food was WAY overpriced, so we left a bit peturbed...but the conversation was full and fun-filled.
We ended up walking to this club event that Sciences Po was throwing...called Black Out. Sketchy Mc-Sketch of a title, yes. But fitting. It was SOO packed...I swear, if there had been a fire, we would have all been done for. But the music was loud and intense. And there was a lot of dancing. A lot of dancing. Lorena and I tried to teach Paz how to dance. Success to be determined. It was funny because you could tell who were the exchange students and who were French; the French kids wore white shirts under the black lights, and the foreigners wore other colors and had their lint showing up everywhere.

I got home at 3am, to sleep a few hours before my class.
Friday
Well, my international marketing class is a joke. No one in the class (save Paz and me) have ANY marketing experience in any way at all. I'm the only marketing major, so my teacher has pegged me as the class TA type thing. What's worse, the class is MARKETING 101!!!!! I mean, Paz pulled up notes from his Stern class from 2 semesters ago, and they were the same! Word for word...This is my major we're talking about, here. Oh sweet lord...
Lorena joined up with us later for lunch at St.Michel. After we walked around, and after I bought two RIDICULOUSLY shaped brioches, we concluded to go back home.
Pierre and I met up to go see a movie "La Vie Des Autres". German movie, French subtitles. Not easy. Whatsoever. Luckily, I had Pierre next to me explaining bit by bit the plot of the movie. I think with all 3 languages, I was able to understand the movie as much as I fully could. Interesting movie about East Germany before the wall fell, and how the communist government would spy on people.
We hit up Paz's place later on and hung out for a few hours. Lorena and I tried to encourage the boys to dance, but they were quite opposed to the matter. Paz gave in a bit, but Pierre was being stubborn. Pierre WILL dance one of these days. Oh yes, he will...
Paz kicked us out to talk to his girlfriend back at home. So Lorena, Pierre and I went back to the Cité. Pierre and I ended up showing pictures to each other and staying up all night talking. I crashed at his place. ...and this is when I start exercising my diplomatic abilities...

Saturday
I was exhausted all day. I didn't want to do anything. I went for a run anyways.
I talked to Ido on the phone for a little while to figure out his visit to Paris.
Later in the day, Brandon gives me a call and talks to me about having people over for dinner. I mean, it's fine, I love my friends, and I love to cook, so I said yes. But when six other kids showed up (including one I didn't know?), that's when I felt a little flustered. The boys bought the materials for cooking, and I ended up cooking 3 different type of dishes (a chicken stirfry, some pasta, and cous cous...). It was intense. Everyone running in and out of my itty bitty kitchen to grab things here and there. Dinner was good, though. LOTS of left overs. And our conversation, as always, was bountious.
Brandon ended up missing the last train out, so he spent the night on my pull-out couch. After counselling me in some current events...

I woke up remembering I had a lunch date with Juan and his girlfriend, Patricia at one. So I bolted, leaving Brandon stuck in my place.
I met up with the two Spaniards by Pompidou at this place called Les Marroniers. At first we talked in English to improve their speaking skills, but I could tell after a while they were getting tired of it (they aren't fluent...), so we switched into French. They are such delightful people!!! Wonderfully accepting and kind! We potlucked our meals together and discussed Spain and America and France and everything else we could discuss with a limit of words and understandings.
We ended up going to the Musée Picasso afterwards. Every first Sunday of the month is free in any French museum, it's fabulous! We walked around the museum for a few hours. I ran into a lot of Sciences Po kids there somehow, too. I actually am starting to appreciate Picasso a lot more now, too! I like some of his art more, discovered some new favorites, and talking in French the whole time! It was lovely.
I got home to see how Brandon was fairing. He ended up cooking me french toast for dinner. Not to mention he had cleaned my apartment while I was gone! Gosh, that kid is going to make a great wife someday.
I talked to Nate on Skype for a few hours. He helped me sort out some things I've been fretting about. And we joked about our secret feelings towards Stephen Spielberg....something about volleyballs and rope and a yarmulke? Nevertheless, a much needed conversation.

I have to go to bed. Brandon and I agreed to go running in the morning.

Classes Today

This weekend, I was jogging around the Tour d'Eiffel....
And I literally, literally, ran into Emily, my old roommate from NYC. She was on a jog, too.
I mean, we knew we'd be in Paris the same time. That's why we were roommates. But it was still really weird to be on my normal run and see someone I actually KNOW!

Saturday we ate dinner at Paz's place in Gentilly (some little banlieu on the outskirts of Paris). Interesting town...
We went to some bars at the Bastille later on. This one Brazilian bar had some really great (but EXPENSIVE!) cocktails.
Brandon stayed over because we finished late.

Sunday some of the kids came over to finish our baguettes from the night before for a feast of a lunch. We ate a lot. Then we layed around my place and deliberated at how to rent a car for a weekend. Then we went out to see a movie, "Molière". Interesting, was in old French, didn't understand all of it. Grabbed pizza afterwards, and went to bed.

It's crazy...the kids I'm friends with here hang out with each other so often right now that we all feel like we've been living with each other for 3 years already or something. We're really close, but only have known each other for a few weeks. Great kids, though. I adore them.

Gotta go get ready for the first day of classes.

How Peculiar!

Yesterday was rather ridiculous.
I found myself in my apartment looking at my friend Peter (Scotland) in his underwear on my couch, eating dinner and drinking wine. Why so much class, you may ask? Peter called me to plan a night of me cooking chez moi for both of us. Then his fountain pen broke and ruined his jeans. So, we tried to wash them in the machine and let them dry on my radiator...but it took a lot longer than we thought it would.
And we got red wine all over my rug (stupid clumsy sober kids), which really sucks. But Peter had a system of getting it out, so let's hope it is successful.
After we scarfed down our Meringue puffs from my patisserie, Peter and I SOMEHOW managed to stumble upon something that may have been the most peculiar thing I've seen here yet. One of the public TV stations (N11?) was playing porn. Soft porn. On public television. It was probably THE WORST porn ever produced ever, too. Not only was it dubbed from some language like Spanish or Italian, but it was quite obviously fake! In every possible way. The moves were fake and they looked like they weren't even enjoying it. And then Peter and I realized we were watching and critiquing pornography, in which we immediately stopped.

Before Peter came over, I was at the Cité working on a project. Lorena (Peru) AND Nico (Italy) both ran into my on my way out. Lorena tried bullying me into going out with them all (a LOT of the exchange kids) to the Erasmus party. But because of Peter's pants, we were unable to attend. She's going to kill us.

Today was really busy and fun! It was the last day of our "stage d'integration" (AKA orientation), which means classes start on Monday but let's not think about that....so it was a sad day for my orientation group. Some (4-5) of us are being moved up to level 2, so we are being seperated. In celebration, our French coach brought us out of the classroom to go on a tour of St.Michel. We walked all around the older parts of the city with the super small passageways and miniscule squares with itty shops and whatnots. All around the 15th-17th century. We visited St.Germaine and St.Sulpice. And we also visited one of the original towers/walls of the medieval Parisian fortress! It was accompanied with interesting conversation, too. 2 hours of ancient buildings and french and really amazingly picturesque locations hidden in the core of Paris? Yes, please!

Afterwards some of us walked back to school about 30 minutes after our class normally ends. Normally I go out to lunch with Paz (NYU buddy), Rahul (Georgetown), and Peter (Scotland) after our classes let up at the same time, but I thought it was just a convenience-type occasion. I get back and notice (expectedly) that the guys aren't around the main hall, so I start talking with one of the Mexican girls in my class. Soon after, though, I get a text from Paz asking me where I was, and that they were waiting in the basemend for me to go eat lunch with them.

Now, the funny thing to me is that it means I'm part of the group. 3 guys, 1 girl. Which is ALWAYS (literally, no joke) the gender ratio with me and my close group of friend. In Massachusetts; in New York; and now, here. 3 guys, and me! ALWAYS! Granted, I love my boys. All of them. But my question is: Does god package boys in groups of 3 or something? Or is it just me?

So we went out to a cafe just a block away from school. It was a great ambience, slightly uber-flambouyant. I loved it. And the lunch was great! Sandwiches, as usual. Europe is all about sandwiches, I've realized. I eat more bread here than in America by far. Anyways, we popped a bottle of red wine and chit chatted. I noted the entire time how amazing I find it that I so quickly found my niche of 3.

After my other last class, where we gave a hilarious presentation (good job, us!), the guy in my class from Holland, Johannes (beautiful, yes. but taken), and I got to talking about joining the tour at the Louvre with some of the other exchange kids. I got roped into it.
So now I find myself in the Louvre with a group of exchange kids that I'm not familiar with, sans Johannes and Annalise (Australia). We have on headphones, and are listening to this woman in front of us speaking in complete (and FAST) French about the paintings and sculptures around us. We are walking around the museum in a huge cluster, trying SUPER HARD to grasp onto SOME, ANY French words that we can understand. Truly frustrating. And we didn't get very far in the tour, either.

The boys (yes, the 3) went to the Louvre independent of the group, and waited for me and Annalise & Johannes (and Ashley) to get dinner with. After much debating and pacing around, and deliberating, and grabbing a pint at Grolsch (for Johannes' Dutch roots), we finally chose to go to the Marais (Jewish-Gay Quarter) to this great little restaurant, Equinox. They put our large party in the cave (which is the basement, essentially....usually looks like a brick cave...lots of the old bars and restaurants here have places just like this). We bought 2 bottles of wine and spread it around the group. Entrées were delicious. My salmon was great. And the desserts were innovative. The dinner was a complete success. And we all enjoyed each other's company!
We plan on going to Annalise's sometime soon for vegemite toast. And we left each other with bises all around. And some good tipsy feelings.
I love bises (by which I mean kisses on the cheek). I think it really is a lot more affectionate and polite than waves or hugs or NOTHING at all. We must integrate this into normal everyday life always.

Comment?

Let's see....it's been a super busy week! I haven't been home for more than a few hours, really...

Monday, orientation started. They put me in the beginner's French, which is completely ridiculous because I can hold a conversation in French! I was completely outraged, and I went to talk to the leader of the program who was talking to me, in French no less, and saying, "You're not in the medium level? You can hold a conversation with me an understand? This makes no sense....well, no matter, stay where you're put." I then find out that almost most of the class is in the same boat as me; where we are conversational in French, but being held back unexplicably. Luckily, we are the group with no homework to do, unlike Paz and all of my other friends who have presentations to do. A few days later things get slightly better, and we're told that we might be moved up a few levels. I sure hope so!
I am sick with a sinus infection. Be surprised.

Tuesday was fun. Classes slightly improved. The group of exchange kids went to the Restaurant Universitaire Mabillon, where I sat with my friends. The food looked pretty gross, but it was so cheap (2.75 E), how can one complain?! Lorena cut up Paz's chicken for him like a baby because he didn't like the look of it, and I laughed out loud hard enough that I had to stop myself for fear my nose'd fall off.
I came back for a run later at night to help me rid of my sickness. I ran to the Eiffel Tower (yeah, because I can do that here) and dodged traffic a bit. It's pretty amazing to just, on a whim, decide to run 10 minutes or so to international monument like that. Like it's no big thing.
I was going to say indoors at night because I felt really crumby, but Lorena persuaded me to end up with the other kids at Frog & Princess for student discounts. It is this little pub that holds maybe 50, but we managed about 80 kids in there at least. You literally had NO space. Arms down, didn't matter. No space. I stayed for an hour or two and left early to cough and sulk in bed.

Wednesday I met up with Brandon and we watched Auberge l'Espagnole. It was a pretty good movie, had more languages than the UN, and warned us of what is to come of our exchange experience. Apparently I'll run away from any normal job after my trip here in France...
We met up with Alex, Paz & Rahul after the movie. We concluded to go out for a falafel (after trudging about the Latin Quarter for something cheap, fast, and easy) and see the French movie "La Môme" about singer Edith Piaf's life (which was quite remarkable!). The accents were really hard to understand, so a lot of it didn't make sense at all. It took all 5 of us afterwards to put together the scenes and understand it more completely. But it was a very fun night with them all. Great kids, I love the people I'm studying with right now.
I helped Rahul clean his apartment afterwards (color me OCD).

Thursday, yesterday, after classes, we all went to Musée d'Orsay. It's this odd museum that was one a train station. The art ranges wildly, and the guys were complaining about the artwork the entire time. After a long (and slightly painful) trample through the museum, the guys and I went out for some pizza (imagine me eating pizza....it's rare).
Lorena called us up and told us to meet her at this club, The Mix. On Thursdays they have free entry for international students. We were in the beginning of the line, and the line by about 30 minutes into entering the place, it was mad chaos. Brazilian night, you know how it is. After forcing the guys on the dance floor for a good round of songs, we cruised out early because of morning classes. And just in time, too; the line was ridiculous.

Note: Yes, I have been eating out a lot. I have made a good group of friends here, namely men of course, who always want to go out and eat for lunch/dinner. Baguettes for lunch, something cheap for dinner. So much bread!

TODAY! After a long day of feeling like crap, and after somehow managing to offend the hot Dutch guy in my class, I bounced out around 5pm to meet up Dad's friend, Etienne, in the 3ème arrondissement.
Etienne owns his own perfume company/store. It has some pretty ridiculously named, and incredibly interesting-smelling, perfumes (14 total?). And he is one of the kindest men I have ever met in my life. He essentially told me that not only am I to hang out with his employee who's at Sciences Po fulltime, Juan, and his friends, but that I'm essentially a part of his family here. Need a dentist? Doctor? Need absolutely anything?!?! CALL HIM! And I will be eating with his family in a few weeks, perhaps getting drinks with them sometime. Stopping by whenever. He gave me free perfume. Amazing man. Adorable baby, too!
His assistant, Jerry (a girl), sampled the perfumes with me. Though I was mostly talking in French with them, she asked me to help her with her English. We both got drinks afterwards and talked in Franglish. We will be getting together later on to help her English. Wonderful girl, from Madagascar.
I then got stopped on the Métro by the RATP cops for having the "wrong papers". I got fined 35 Euros, and I'm still ripped about that.
I met up with the kids to go to a jazz club in some dive bar that MUST be from during the French Revolution, and I'm serious. Good music, good pina coladas, and good company. A good night overall.

And now, I sleep.

Dublin, Ireland

It was a pretty crazy weekend. Ok, here it goes...

Wednesday
I got into Dublin and suddenly remembering that they "parlez anglais" in this country. It was wonderfully refreshing!

My old roommate Lauren met me at the bus stop from the airport, and greeted me at Trinity College. After browsing Dame Street quickly, we deliberated whether or not we should cough up 7 Euros to see the Book of Kells. We did. Those books are amazingly beautiful. They're some of the oldest Bible prints available, and they are wonderfully crafted. And then we snuck into a few of the college buildings before walking around the rest of the area.
We then toured around Grafton Street (shopping central) and found refuge from the cold in the indoor mall. This is where we stumbled upon, what but my favorite British treat, WAGAMAMA'S!!! We definitely ate there for dinner. Wasabi chocolate fudge cake all the way!

Lauren is a film student in a film program there. And their theme is music videos. So for one of her assignments, she asked me to be her character in the film. So, for about 3 hours in the middle of the evening I stood out in the freezing rain making a complete jackass of myself while dancing relentlessly and shamefully on the streets (and at some clubs) of Dublin. Lots of people stopped and stared. And it was quite apparent that I was on something. The song was Tower of Power's "What is Hip?". I was dressed up in one of the most ridiculous outfits we could conjure up. It was great. And now I have a 1-minute music video of my toolishness. It's pretty priceless, actually.

Lauren and I stayed up all night talking about life and boys, life, and our spiritual paths. We have a lot to do...

Thursday
The first two days were kinda dreary. Rainy, FREEZING!!!!!! It was not a great time to tour around the city, which is small anyways.
So I bumbled to and fro Dublin by myself while she was in classes.
I walked around Dame Street some more and took pictures of interesting buildings and old churches. I think I have some strange fascination with medieval history, because most of the places I was most interested in visiting were from pre-14th century. The newer it was, the less interested I was.
I viewed Christ Church and its 10th century ruins; I meandered over to some not-so-nice looking churches that I quickly turned away from. I hid out from the cold at Dublin Castle where I took a very intriguing tour. It so happens that the original medieval castle is underground and mostly in ruins, and I got to see a small portion of it. I then hid in a nearby French cafe and took some tea.
Lauren and I met up for lunch at Gruel and have a most exquisite meal.
We ate more food than I thought was humanly possible during my stay. Which made me feel like I should dedicate the rest of my life saving starving children in Ethiopia, since we were being SO gluttonous.
I love Lauren, she's a great girl, but when we get together? It's food, food, and food. Food. Everywhere. Can't believe myself right now.
SO MUCH CHOCOLATE!

Anyways, I tried to be courageous and take a gander at Liffey River quickly before hopping about Temple Bar (kind of like a Chelsea in NYC area). Lauren joined up with me later and we took a long brisk walk (to compensate for our indulgences) on the northern side of the city and cruised up O'Connell Street (the Broadway of Dublin) and back home in her super toasty apartment.

Friday
It became beautifully sunny and WARM! I was able to actually walk around without feeling miserable! So, I started the day with a much needed workout at Iveagh Fitness Club. Lovely place, super fancy.
I then went over to Stephen's Green and walked around Grafton Street once again. I went to the Museum of Irish History, where I saw many mummified Irishmen and Viking swords. It was a nice romantic adventure.
I walked across the city to go to the Guinness Storehouse just so I could say I have been there. The area wasn't that great, and the outside of Guinness was massive and inudstrial and a bit sad looking. I don't think I was supposed to walk around without paying, but I somehow managed to snoop all of the floors without paying. The inside was very nice, kind of a warehouse feel. I got to the top floor, Gravity Bar, where I saw a stunning panoramic view of Dublin, with mountains/hills in the distance. The walls were all glass... I then went down a few flights to another bar and grabbed a half pint of Guinness so you all would leave me alone about not trying things out and being all cliché.

A quick note: I went to Ireland to get away from the french, right? Well, I think god or someone was trying really hard to kick me in the face. I only MET french people there!!!!!!! At the Guiness factory, I went into one of the bars to be bombarded by a hoard (yes, a hoard) of French drunkards slaying the french national anthem.

Anywho...Lauren and I decided to go out on my last. We weren't feeling like doing much, but after gorging ourselves on both donners and oversized crèpes, we ended up going out to a club anyways.
Some guy gave us free tickets to a club across town, d two, so we went to see what it was all about.
We just wanted to dance. We drank our tap water (she was a bit sick, so drinking was a no no) and danced our heads off on the dance floor. We just wanted to dance.
And we did dance a bit. I went to get some more tap water, and a few drunk Scotsmen hit on me, and I laughingly shook my head and went on my merry way.

BUT THEN, oh Holy Moses...I get back to Lauren, and this duo of FRENCH GUYS FROM TOULOUSSE (I swear they were at least 30...) got all up in my grille. And I mean it. The shorter, more obnoxious of the two decided to take a liking towards me. I was making it quite clear, I thought, that I wasn't interested. And they didn't really speak English, by the way, so I had to attempt broken French to communicate with them. This guy had the worst dancing skills ever. And some even worse pickup lines. Over and over again, "You French is very good. Is excellent!" and "You are beautiful woman. I mean." Sure, ok.
Lauren didn't even try to help me out. I tried to imply that we were lesbians, but that didn't seem to translate very well.
Basically, I begged Lauren to leave. While we're leaving, Frenchy grabs my face and plunges right in. I am quite literally unable to pry him off. I'm not one to be terribly mean about things like this, but no, that was NOT OK. And it wasn't good, either. In fact, it was kind of really disgusting. Oh god, I needed a toothbrush after that.
Lauren thought it was hilarious. And it was, but BLAH!!!!!

After running away, we literally ran into a group of 3 more french guys! They were Parisian med students who were there with some rugby team. And after talking with them for about an hour or so, walking around with them, we exchanged numbers and emails and parted. As soon as Lauren and I get out of their hostel, though, we ran into 3 MORE french guys!!!!!

Lauren and I were laughing our heads off by the end of the night because of our sheer luck. And to seal the night off soundly, as we were trying to get into her flat, we heard (as if right next to us outside) the loud and slightly raunchy screams and groans of a couple having massive intercourse. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a while.