Weekend? What weekend?

This weekend has been unusually eventful. I've gotten into the habit of doing absolutely nothing on the weekend. Three days of sedentary existence (except when I'm at the gym). This weekend was not that way.

After doing my laundry on Friday morning, I went down to the Camille Albane salon on Rue Monge. I spent a while looking up good salons nearby and I had printed out a picture of exactly what I wanted. Unfortunately, they were all booked up until 6 pm. So I gave it up, but on my way back up Cardinal Lemoine I stopped at a small, independent salon whose prices were posted in the window. 50 euros for a cut. I was planning on paying 45 already at Camille Albane, plus there was no wait, so I went for it. The woman was very French, asking me several times exactly what I wanted done, since apparently the picture I printed out was the same hair cut I had at the time. So whatever, I worked it out. At the end my hair was about 2 inches shorter and poofed out from the hair dryer, but it eventually settled down. So far, so good I think.

On Saturday morning, the alarm went off at 6 am. At first I thought I'd gone completely crazy and that I had to get up for work. Then I realized, no, today I am getting up at 6 am for fun. The bus left around 7:45, and then it was a straight drive to Villandry. Okay, I lied, we stopped at a mega gas station on the way to pee and buy snacks. I've noticed on the few road trips I've taken in France that there is very little in the way of towns and general civilization once you leave Paris, so instead there are these giant gas stations with giant 7/11 convenience stores, and usually some sort of Denny's-style chain restaurant. Except here this restaurant is called "Flunch." This is how they get us back for "à la mode," I think. Anyway, Villandry was a cool little castle. It felt less castle-ish and more like a large country home. There were some cool rooms and all that, plus good gardens. There was a great maze, though. The bushes were a little see-through, but there was a tower in the middle. So what did we do? We played some hardcore tag/hide-and-go-seek. Melissa, Colin, Derek, Lou and I went about four rounds in this labyrinth, managing to freak out some French kids and their parents in the process. The tower was base, and we each had to run away from "it" in order to get to it. We all took off and coats and put down our shit and ran around in the sunshine like 8 year olds. And it was awesome.

After our geriatric lungs gave out, we head out front to eat lunch. Colin accidentally bought some "apple rosemary" gelato, which naturally displeased him, so we all took turns tasting it and describing which household cleaning products we through it resembled. I mooched the leftovers of Keisha's salted-caramel crepe -- Paris really need to get with the program there. It started raining just in time for us to get back on the bus and take a good nap on the way to Chenonceau. Way back in French I, when I was 14, we watched this video about Chambord and Chenonceau, and I'd always wanted to see it. Now this was a castle. Melissa read the program while we went into each room and discussed Henri IV-Catherine de Medici-Diane de Poitiers love triangle. Chenonceau also has a bomb ass kitchen, with about four different rooms. While we were in the gallery, which is a big hall that goes over the river, a full-on storm started outside. Thunder, rain, wind, hail. It was pretty cool. Outside we tried to find the winery but instead took pictures of tulips and stalked lizards. I really wish MICEFA had switched the itinerary so we could've spent more time at Chenonceau. We contemplated round 2 of tag in the maze, but we decided against it. On the drive home we entertained ourselves by trying to figure out why there were all these weird parts on the bus chairs, and also trying to figure out which way the Earth spins, and if flying with the direction of the Earth's rotation makes flights faster. Yeah, I dunno either.

Today I woke up around 8 am with a throbbing headache and finally gave up trying to get back to sleep around 9. I felt like I was hung over. Dehydration? Perhaps. Around 1 I headed over to an apartment appointment. The day I put up my ad last week, this American woman offered to let me sublet her daughter's studio for a couple weeks to get me through June 12. I went over to see it today, and it is excellent. Well, it's actually about as small as my current studio but with much less light. However, it's right on the border of the Latin Quarter and St. Germain des Prés, and it's cheaper than my place now. And it has a double bed so Lauren won't have to sleep on the floor. It will definitely get the job done, and for only 150 euros a week.

Right now, I should be working on my exposé. I signed up to do it on Tuesday so I would have it out of the way before break and May, when Lauren and I will be traveling or she'll be staying here most of the time. Now I'm thinking I should've put it off. Exposés are just dumb anyway and boring for everyone except the professor, who will rip you a new one in public if you fuck it up. Sigh. The rest of this week is busy as well, with tests in Histoire des Français and a vocab quiz in translation. I didn't time-manage all this work very well. I need to take some crack or something tomorrow so I can stay motivated during my lunch break and after work.

I can't wait for break. On Thursday I'm bringing my suitcase to work with me, then going straight to Porte Maillot to catch the bus to Beauvais. I'm excited to explain to everyone that I have my luggage because I'm finishing this job and then going directly to Rome. Peace out, bitches.