A week in review

I don't even know where this last week went. I guess it got away from me about 10 am Saturday morning, when I went to Porte Maillot to pick up Lauren and company from the Beauvais shuttle. After a dramatic greeting involving slow motion running across a parking lot, dropping all belongings and flinging ourselves into each other's arms, we gathered everyone together and went down into the metro. First order of business, tickets. Well in front of us was this family who were not counting on the coins-only ticket machine and were getting frustrated. The mother turned and asked me if I could help, so I gladly stepped up. She asked me where I was from, and of course I said I was American (this exchange was all in English). There is still some debate as to whether she replied "Oh, Americans are scary," or "Oh, Americans are skilled." Anyway, I dialed in the right ticket type and number for her, but all she had was bills. I asked if she had a debit card and she pulled one out, but it didn't have the microchip. I know they have them in England and I just assumed all European countries do, but maybe they don't? Anyway, after I told her that without change or a debit card I couldn't help her, she unceremoniously said, "American's are very helpful." I was livid. Keeping my composure the best I could, I said, "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do to help you." At this point her husband had gone up to get change in the mall. So fuck you, you inept bitch. It's not anyone else's job to save you.

After that exciting start to the week, I navigated them to their hotel in the 11th, checked in, and immediately found some kebaps. Cuz what's Paris without a kebap, really? Then we went over to Mouffetard so they could see my miniscule living space and then get some pastries at Le Rétrodor, a very pretty bakery downstairs that is too expensive and actually has bitchy staff, I don't know why I go there. We sat down in a cafe to have some coffee but immediately got up because the Romans were horrified by the prices. Apparently in Rome you can go into a bar and get a cappucino and a pain au chocolat for like 1 euro. They were not feeling the 4.50 cafe creme. Can't blame them, though. After taking them (and getting a tiny bit lost) to FNAC to pick up concert tickets, I sent them on their way. On Sunday we were to Disneyland, which was fabulous of course. We had some hamburgers in Frontierland for lunch, rode the bomb ass and highly superior Space Mountain, looked for princess crowns but to no avail. What Disneyland Paris really needs though are Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, an Indiana Jones that isn't just a roller coaster, and some mother-fucking DOLE WHIP.

Monday I worked like usually, then went up the Eiffel Tower with Mike at Lauren at about 10 pm. Let me tell you, the light show is NOT impressive when you are standing on the tower. And after we went to St. Andre des Arts to get some crepes, followed by a whack ass encounter with the night buses. After getting them on their bus, I was faced with the choice of a 25 minute walk home or waiting for a bus for 20 minutes and then about a 5 minute ride home. I waited, even though I felt like a dumbass. Anyway, Tuesday morning I got up and had my meeting with Rosalie, which went well as always. My grand total of grades last semester comes to two A's, an A-, and a B+. Hollerrrrr. The bad news is that I still need to add a class this semester, because for some reason every class I'm taking is 2 credits. After the meeting I speed-walked to Censier and was only 5 minutes late for History of the French. I was a little worried about it because Keisha hated it so much, but I like the professor and aside from the marked increase in work compared to the MICEFA classes I took last week, I'm optimistic. That afternoon Lauren and I went up to Sacre Coeur, where we broke rules cuz we're bad asses. We also hit up Pigalle, then went back to my place to wait for Mike. We wanted to go somewhere to get fancy dessert (something much easier done in America), but I took a chance on Cafe Delmas and we ended up eating the most amazing chocolate lava cake in, perhaps, all of existence. It was so good we didn't mind the mouse running around the floor.

Wednesday was when I started to feel sick. I spent the morning on the Champs-Elysées and Rue de Rivoli with Lauren, then went to my translation class in the afternoon. I'm a little intimidated because everyone is French, but the professor is pretty nice and I was able to pick up everything she said. Apparently my French professors really are slowing it down for the non-native speakers. Anyway, it's like figuring out a puzzle. We translated an English newspaper article into French which was tough for me, but she said we'll mostly be translating French into English, which seems much easier. What struck me is that this is a fourth semester Anglo-American studies class, and it's taught completely in French. And the other classes I've seen on the planning boards all have French titles. Could they really be teaching American civilization classes in French? That seems very counterintuitive.

Thursday, man Thursday sucked. The cold-like symptoms had taken hold, and then the immense fatigue set in. I was like a zombie the whole day, with droopy eyelids in the teacher's lounge. The teachers kept saying that I was too crazy and going to bed too late. I somehow managed to crawl home and just went to bed that night, which was lame because I wanted to go out with Lauren one last time before she left. In any case, they all came over Friday morning to dump their luggage after check out. We went out for one last kebap, then hit up a creperie and a bakery. All the important elements of Paris. Everyone bought macaron-ish things. I got this BOMB ass thing that was a heart-shaped coffee macaron, with coffee creme, some coffee foam thing, and a crunchy biscuit thing that tasted like nutella, all sandwiched in there with a heart-shaped chocolate on top. It was 4.20 but I don't even care, it was that good. And Lauren, Mike, and their friends bought me a box of coffee macarons to thank me for showing them around. Lovely. What's not lovely is that after they left, I just laid around feeling yucky.

I thought Friday was bad, but when I woke up on Saturday, I thought I was dying. Ironically, my stuffy nose and chest were almost gone, but my whole body just felt like a tank was laying on top of me or something. I barely managed to brush my teeth, drink some tea, and eat some cereal before taking a 7 hour nap. Then I woke up at had some soup and watched Queer as Folk. By about 8 pm last night, I was feeling much better, and this morning I am about 80% better. I'm even going to hit the gym, since nothing will make me feel better. I guess it's good that I had one day of absolute misery instead of spreading it out over this week. But man, I can't even believe how terrible I felt. I kept thinking about at what point I would call a doctor, the fact that I couldn't find my cell phone, and that I haven't ordered a new health insurance card since getting my wallet jacked in London. And I was wondering if I had a fever, how high it was, and why I'm an idiot and I don't own a thermometer. It was also the first time since I've been here that I really, really wished I was at home. Even though I don't really have a home anymore, but I just wanted my mom to bring me cherry 7-up and rent movies at Blockbuster for me.

Anyway, I'm feeling much better so I'm trying to get some stuff done. I have some translation homework to do, and some History of France stuff as well but I don't think I can buy a newspaper today. I finally emailed my boss to apologize for ignoring her phone calls, I found my cell phone, and I'm going to sort through some other business today. What I really want is for freaking SFSU to post the summer school schedule so I can figure it out, tell my mom when the fee deadline is, and let my boss at home know when I'll be available this summer. In a little less than four months I'll be back in San Francisco and essentially I'll be starting over again. Mom has a new house, I'll need a new apartment, I'll have to re-integrate myself into the journalism track and really knuckle down in order to find internships and have some sort of job prospect when I graduate. Ugh now I'm nauseated.