Foire de Paris

Got my hair cut yesterday. After MUCH anxiety, I stumbled across a frugle and decent review of this French chain, called Tchip. Name sounded sketch, and it looked like something out of an 80's teen movie, but I stepped through the doors anyways. At first, I was scared because I see just two workers with 5 women in a salon enough for at least 10 employees. And they clearly didn't know what they were doing with the old women's hair colorings. I started glowing with sweat.
Thank goodness a woman comes out of the back room confidently and puts me in her own hands. Granted, she didn't speak an ounce of English. And I don't know any terms like "layers" and "angled", but we managed to understand each other. After she hacked more than I wanted off (we were deep in conversation about American working hours compared to France's), I am satisfied with my cut. Short, yes, but it is the right idea of coiffure. And everything (including tip, shampoo, cut, conditioner) was only 24 Euros!
That's essentially all I did worth talking about yesterday. Chorus was uneventful, and a bit lonely, so I won't get into that.

Marketing class today was dull as usual. My group had a presentation to do, but Joris had SMSed me to say that he fainted in the shower and wasn't coming to class. Luckily I researched and created the entire bloody project anyways, so I just picked up the slack. I think we did the project well, but I guess it doesn't matter as long as we get a good grade.
Then, yes, the Foire de Paris. Essentially, Paris made roughly 10 massive warehouses (an expo area, I presume) into these specified expositions. From house siding to wine tasting, from medieval dance to make-overs. In a nutshell, it was awesome. Every food/drink table had free samples. I got in for 9,50 Euros on a discount, and it was worth every penny.
I first made way to the "Tropical France" area (think Martinique, some African places, South American, Caribbean places that are/were part of French territories). This was my favorite part already. It was booming with culture music, bright colors everywhere. People bustling to and fro. Colorful accents. The smell of marvelous things. And I was one of the only white people in that warehouse! I bought some coconut sorbet, and let me tell you: ORGASMIC! That stuff was utterly ambrosial. And there was some amazing PURE cocoa drinks. I got hit on by a few of the venders, who ended up getting only my email, and in the process managed to give me a free plate of soulfood that normally costs 5 euros. I wish I could go back and eat more food there...
Mind you, my accent is thick, and my French shotty, so EVERYONE I encountered asked me where I was from in America. Not so nice.
Then I made way to the "Europe" area. Not nearly as fun, but still a good time. There were so many artists swinging around, I managed to stay mostly by the free samples. Cheese, saucissons, chocolates, sweets, biscuits, and wine. Now, my main intention the entire time I was being shoved foods left and right was to find this Corsican wine that Liisa raved to me about when she had gone to the fair. I got to the Champagne first (which was excellent, and I think I made friends with the man who was making me taste his Champagne), and literally skimmed by all of the wine booths before finding Corsica (the only booth). The guy didn't appreciate my lacking French, and though I fell absolutely in love with his bottle of white wine (it was the best wine I've ever tasted in my life), he refused to sell it to me on the spot. He kept saying "Think about it. It's really expensive, you're a student. Don't buy it right now." I can't believe I got turned down on buying something!!!!! And WHEN THE HELL am I going to ever go to Corsica so I can find this wine ever again? I don't even think the link for this Corsican wine is the right place!
Afterwards, I watched a subpar dance group, meandered through the other warehouses (which is wearing, no pun intended). And I came home to run and sit here.

Cops and Grills

Why don't the French Barbeque? I ask you.
I hadn't thought about it until the cops came yesterday.
It was May 1st. National holiday. No one is at work. And it's Labor Day, right? So you'd THINK that (as an American thinking of course) people would be grilling it up all over the place. Oh, nay, nay.
For those who don't know, in America many public spaces are made specifically for Barbeques, and grilling. They even have little grills on the sides of some parks.
Brandon decided to through a little barbeque on the park behind Les Invalides (yup, of all places). I am not thinking anything of it. I know people picnic there. I have invited my French buddy Joris to join us so we could discuss our project. He sees the grill and such, and starts chain smoking. I ask him what's up, and he simply replies, "Oh, this is all very illegal." We even found a regulations poster, and Joris says we were breaking probably about 4 laws.
Nevertheless, Brandon ventures on with his newly bought camp grill. And one of his friends I don't know well, John, has invited the entire school of American University in Paris to join. Now, don't get me wrong: I'm sure some of them are nice. But most of them were acting dumb and just drinking wreckless amounts. In the daytime.
Some non-cops-but-still-officers-of-some-sort came over and warned us that, though they'd love us to have a BBQ, it was illegal in every public place in Paris, and that we better put it away before the police come and deal with us.
Off we go. To Brandon's apartment complex's courtyard?
In the US, it's alright to use the amenities of your apartment complex. Public use for the private space kind of thing. So, we think we're fine now. Though, they didn't by any Petroleum, so the grill was failing magnificently at igniting. And John and his 20 friends start drinking copiously again, and start kicking a ball around in the stupidest way imaginable. And Joris still chain smokes.
Why were there people in the apartment complex taking pictures of us?
John sees this, and (slightly inebriated) starts flipping the bird and swearing in French to Brandon's neighbors. Lots. Big commotion. People come out, and threaten to call the police. John's posse bails ASAP at the sound of "police", leaving all of their stuff behind them. For us to clean up. My friends and I are trying to stop the coals from burning and cleaning up toute de suite, because we didn't want any havic. If we can't have the BBQ, we'll stop. We're good kids. But John keeps trucking away in not-so-nice French.
We start bringing everything into Brandon's apartment when the security guard and president of the complex come over, and John has started to swear at them. They're all up in arms about it. So, the police have been wrung, and warranting John's arrest. John scrams to the park and hide for a while.
Which leaves Brandon, Peter, Liisa, and I to fix everything (Paz Rimi and Joris have been sent upstairs, since Paz and Joris are both French and Rimi was helping them out). Brandon, being the excellent diplomat he is, managed to calm down the two men, explain to them why John got upset, and how in the US it isn't OK to take pictures of people, and how in the US it's completely acceptable to have BBQs on your own property. It was all a misunderstanding. One of John's oh-so-special friends has come back and started swearing again in French about how they're exploiting us because we're foreign. Liisa manages to shut him up. The two men tell us that we need to make better choices with our friends.
The cops come. They look like they're giggling. They ask, "What's that?" We reply, "It's.....a grill." The respond, "Oh, you should probably get rid of that." We respond, "We know that now. Thanks." And it's basically over.
It ended up being my friends and I (and a calmed down John.....) in Brandon's flat eating stove-grilled burgers. It was a pleasant afternoon.

After a while, I agreed to meet up with Pierre and talk. We decided to, after talking out our differences, to remain friends. It is the end of one chapter in our frienship and the start of a new one. Everything is perfectly fine. Yeah, it all sucks, but I think in the end it'll be for the best. He's such a great guy, and I'd hate to lose such a gem. Again.

Today was not very exciting. Signed up to go to Budapest (that's in Hungary, folks) with Sciences Po. Did some banking. Cooked for Liisa, José, that Bulgarian guy, and me. We watched the Presidential Debate, and I'm never eating again.

Drag

It was excellent.
I am walking to the Bon Marché to pick up something for dinner between classes, when I see him.
A light pink tank top, shades, a cute mauve pencil skirt, a small shoulder purse, pink fishnets, highlighted hair and pink strappy kitten heels.
At first glance (and only seeing his back), I was thinking, "Holy Amazon! That is one hefty chick!"
Then I look at the walk, and think that's one mannish walk that Amazon woman has...
Ahhh.....she is a he!
And he didn't hide it, either. I am surprised I thought it was a woman at all!
I couldn't tell whether he was a transgender or just put up to a really funny joke/bet.
I walked behind him for a few blocks, and the walk was delightful! People's reactions to him were utterly priceless. Confused old women. Smiling younger guys. The whole lot.
I wanted really badly to take a picture of him, but his stride was too long, and I ended up getting it out just as soon as I got caught behind some tourists.

I got a really good wok at the grocer's. Unfortunately, the men making my wok were hitting on me, telling me how "belle" I was (which, of course, I have to say thank you, but always with a hint of cynicism), and why would such a pretty girl like me be eating alone when they can join me? I utter "rentrerai chez Sciences Po" and they shut up about that. They quickly caught onto my American accent, and started asking me about the American Presidential Elections. I tried to explain that it was too early in the race for me to decide who to vote for, but they continue insisting I have a candidate to vote for already.
It's funny how people here are behaving lately, with this whole election being days away. People are talking about politics nonstop, and even projecting thoughts about OTHER elections they have no control over.
That wok was really, really good, though. I relished in it for a whole 45 minutes.

In French class, the highlight of the class (aside from my phone ringing 3 times in a row while I tried to silence it) was definitely about "Pimp My Ride." Someone made a comment about old cars getting fixed up pretty. Someone else (American, of course) made a funny remark about "Pimp My Ride," at which my French teacher looks at her with complete horror and disgust.
In English, he says, "You PROSTITUTE your CAR?!?!?!"
Oh, the fun got only better after that. YOU try explaining to a French person in FRENCH who's native tongue isn't English what "pimp" means in slang. By the end of the discussion, I was crying of laughter, only to find out furthermore that in the UK it's called "Chav My Motor". Which, to those who aren't familiar with English slang, basically means "White-Trash My Car".

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.

Humbug

I've been listening to music a lot lately.
I've been eating unknowingly.
Tout seul.
I think I've hit a bit of a low.
Actually, yes, I have.
Perhaps it was waking up to the sounds of a blood-curdling scream of a baby all morning.
Or the constant rumble of the sandblaster in the courtyard.
And now, I'm sitting alone on the grass at Sciences Po, thinking about how to make the last two months here the best I can make them, given circumstances.
Stiff upper lip, right?

What Do Vous Croyez?

Don't get too excited.
I may have just had a dream where I was thinking partially in French. Makes no sense, I know. I barely speak the damn langue, but I definitely know that part of my dream was in French.
On that note, I'm going to jog.
I've been feeling a bit bored lately...

FFWD Mode, Only Long

Alright! I should do this NOW so I don't forget to do it this week, and then I'll have more than a week to get back on track about:
Monday - My parents came in to visit me for the week! They were exhausted when I met up with them after my classes. We ended up catching a fast dinner at Léon's before my next class.
I then went to José-Louis' with Liisa for a dinner party. The rule was: in his place, we HAVE to only speak French (which wasn't hard for him and his 2 other friends, they ARE French...). It was one of the hardest rules to abide by all night. But I trucked along, kind of...
José made us this really great French dish for our main meal, and 3 other courses to boot! I supplemented the brownies for the dessert....His friend, Nicolas, is a winemaker, and brought us 3 bottles of wine for us to taste; one in every color! It wa splendid! Liisa and I were giggling the entire time about the sheer ridiculousness of our lives and the situations at hand.
And a note about José-Louis' place.....IT WAS MASSIVE!! He says that he's staying with a friend's family, which would make the children's toys everywhere, and the 2-story monstrosity of a flat that we were exposed. A billiard table in the main room, full kitchen, stereo system, and a huge outside patio with a view of the Eiffel Tower?! You've got to be kidding, Kim, right? Nay, my friends, no kidding here.
After we had a really nice (and late) dinner, José and Nicolas pulled out the dancing skills! Which was a shock! Those boy can dance! They were swing dancing with Liisa and I, and José even swung Liisa over his shoulder! José's female friend just watched, which was odd, but she seemed to be content regardless. But alas! A good night always has to end, so Liisa and I hailed a cab in the wee hours of the night/morning, and went to bed swiftly, after a night of perfection.

Tuesday - Class was a waste. Except that Eugene informed me about the VaTech news. All I'll say about it is that I luckily knew no one involved or affected, I have little (if any) respect for journalists and publicists, and that Bush's arms policies are worth shit.
Afterwards, I met up with parents to go out, but didn't make it very far; I crashed on their bed for a few hours. I finally woke up to eat some lunch with the parents, and then to go see my apartment. Lazy day, and ended it early.

Wednesday - The day started with Mom, Dad, and I meeting up at the Catacombs, which are these cave-tunnels underground all over Paris. You could probably get into any section of Paris through these caves! We were only let into a very small section of the catacombs, but it was simply amazing, nevertheless! Miles and miles of caves that we saw ALONE! And what's more, but there's roughly 6 million dead people buried down there, from the 1700s plague and the 1800s riots! They have organized the bones and skulls in a hasty decorative system, and they strategically embellished with somber French/Latin quotes all throughout the darkened caves. It was quite a site! And we saw the alter where All Saint's Day used to be performed, and everthing!
Afterwards, we ate at this place called Indiana Café; this sad French attempt at making American food. The quesadillas were made with mozzarella and crêpe-like layers, and the fries were pretty dinky. The food was good, but it wasn't American. Granted, I'm not complaining; it was just an interesting portrayal of American culture. The parents were nice and let me go for my normal jog afterwards before we head out for dinner at this nearby Lebanese resto. The food was really good (they even did the grape leaves correctly!). I went back to the hotel with them, where we had a debate about American values, education, and spirituality. Just another night with the family, right?

Mind you, the whole week I was very proud of myself because I was doing all of the talking and the ordering and explaining for the parents. I felt like my French was actually subpar!

Thursday - I grabbed lunch with them before they walked me to my classes. One of my classes was cancelled, so I ran into Rahul and I talked and walked with him for a while. I then went to Sciences Po to do homework. Joris, bless the child, walked me through my French homework, despite that he's French and has his own homework and club to run. I owe that kid my life.
Class trudged by. I then met up with Pierre for dinner with the parents at Café Lipp. The parents didn't inform me that we were to match (they were in black blazers over green shirts and black slacks), so I felt very awkward and clashing at first. But we had a very intriguing dinner. Dad really let his hair down for Pierre, and Mom and I did our girly gossip on the other side of the table. Pierre wow-ed them with his French knowledge, and we ate a long (and slightly pricey) dinner discussing cultures (but of course).
Pierre and I ended the night with a few videos about military training, so I could see just exactly what he'll be put through this summer. Yes, I admitt, it looks hard, but I'm still excited to see how he turns out after it, even if I am in the US (which is a sad thought).

Friday - My marketing professor is a tool. We had presentations about Benetton, and the first 4 groups took roughly 20 minutes a pop, leaving us last 2 groups 6 minutes to do a 12-minute presentation. Nice.
Paz and I grabbed a few sandwiches and chit chatted before I met up with the parents. We did some walking. Mom and I went to Galerie Lafayette and shopped for a few hours. I came out with a new purse and a shirt.
We had to RUN to my flat for a pizza dinner with the parents and my friends. Dad and I went out to get pizza, and my friends came over. We talked all night, joked, Dad said some not-so-appropriate-Kim things. It was great.

Saturday - I went for an extra long run, it was great.
Afterwards, I went on a wild goose hunt to find all of the materials needed to make the Indian dishes requested the night before.
Then I cooked for 6 hours. Alone.
I'm never cooking Indian food from scratch alone ever again. That is all.
The food was good, don't get me wrong, but it was far too much to do alone. And 10 kids?! What was I thinking?!
José-Louis joined us for dinner, which meant it was French for Kim. That was frustrating, alright. But we had a good night, and everything went well in the end.

Today - Bump on a log. I have gorged on left overs. Been reading a bit for my midterm on Tuesday. Met up with Paz for an hour to eat dinner. Walked for half an hour, then back here to do chores, procrastinate with my blog, and read some more. I'm a winner.