Well three days into my first full-force week in Paris, and I'm not gonna lie, it's too much. But such is life and I will adjust. Teaching on Monday went really well. Obviously, the easiness of teaching is in direct proportion to how well I prepare. The tricky part is my A. lack of printer/photocopier and B. laziness. I can make lesson plans at home, but then it is a pain in the ass to go to the print shop and pay for photocopies and printing. Or I can lesson plan during my lunch break at school, but then I'm only half-way through the day and I can't prepare a lesson plan for the classes I haven't yet had. So. There you go. Anyway, tomorrow is the last day of instruction I'm doing for a while, cuz Monday is review day and on Thursday I'm doing Halloween day. I suppose I should ask the teachers if they mind if I give their students candy, right? Hopefully they don't say no, because honestly there is just no point without candy. Other than that, there will be vocab and maybe mask-making.
Tuesday I had my first class at Nanterre, a written expression class with a hard-ass French professor. Fun is not the word I would use, but hopefully I'll learn something useful. I also forced myself to work out in the morning so I could get it out of the way. In the evening was a big, three-course group dinner with the MICEFA peeps. It was all very French. And I ate veal, guys. It was sad. It tasted like pot roast. But honestly, it was pretty bland overall. So I have discovered a French dish that I'm kinda like "ehhhh" about. Oh and we were too busy being loud Americans in the metro to board the train in a timely manner, so I got my purse stuck in the doors. It was pretty much hilarious. Nothing fell out or anything, we just waited until the next stop and it was free.
Today was a fun-filled trip to the Hotel Dieu (a medieval hospital which, I was shocked to learn, is still functioning. In fact we saw some poor guy being wheeled into surgery on a gurney). I was basically trippin' today because I had class this morning, a short break to get some work done, then three more hours of class, then the gym and sleep. Plus somewhere in there I needed to go to Office Depot to buy notebooks and find somewhere to get cat food. I really don't think there's anything here akin to Petco, and the only real pet stores I know of are a metro ride away, which is not so convenient. There is an organic supermarket nearby that I checked, but no such luck. So I bought Puckleberry some super expensive food at a vet's office, because so far that's the only place I have found that sells quality cat food.
So there is a huge transportation strike tomorrow, and the inspector of the academy where I work sent me an email today saying that I should ditch tomorrow and I can make up the day another time. Yeah fuckin' right. My only free day is Friday and like hell I'm doing two days back-to-back. So when I go to work, I take two metros and the train. Well the train I take is not striking, and one of the metro lines doesn't have drivers and so doesn't strike. So that leaves the problem of getting to Chatelet, so I'm just going to take a cab. I sent all of this to my boss and she didn't get back to me, so whatever. I'll try to go and if I make it, then bien. If not, I'll suck it up. But I'm pretty sure it's all good. Oh and my Thursday night class was canceled because of the strike, so tomorrow might not be so tough.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Yayyyyyyyy
So, my friends, last night I went to the gym for the first time in exactly. . .(wait for it). . .45 days. That is more than four times the longest amount of time I had gone without working out in over three years. Basically, it was atrocious and I'm so glad it's over. In addition, I am in love with my gym I think. It's not absolutely perfect because they don't have Precor ellipticals (stop snickering), but they have nice, sorta new Life Fitness cardio machines, and like 200 new Life Fitness weight machines. The other issue is that they don't have a stretching/floorwork area, but I'm sort of used to it after two years at the highway-robbery scam that is Fitness USA. Anyway, I just staked out a little spot on the floor in the weight room. I feel weird taking my shoes off to stretch because the French have weird ideas about hygiene (Speedo mandatory in the pool, toilet seat covers not) and I don't want to offend anyone. The elliptical they have is kind of awkward and on a weird axis or whatever, but I made it work. Oh and there was the conundrum of lockers. I bought this itty bitty key-padlock cuz I couldn't find a combo one when I was shopping. So then there's an itty bitty key on and itty bitty keychain. So where do I keep the key when I'm working out. I couldn't put it in my shirt because it would fall if I moved too much, and I didn't have the forethought to put it on a safety pin or something. So what did I do? I attached the itty bitty key chain to my belly button ring. Har. Perfect storage spot.
So, other than that, it is the weekend again and I have some time to breathe. But not too much because I need to figure out what xeroxing needs to be done for my job this week while the printing store is still open. And maybe figure out why I can't send a fax on my fax machine. Fax machines are so dumb, especially this ghetto piece of shit. Anyway, I'm going to post something on These Words now, so go look over there.
So, other than that, it is the weekend again and I have some time to breathe. But not too much because I need to figure out what xeroxing needs to be done for my job this week while the printing store is still open. And maybe figure out why I can't send a fax on my fax machine. Fax machines are so dumb, especially this ghetto piece of shit. Anyway, I'm going to post something on These Words now, so go look over there.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
It's all coming together
Today I had my first day of class. Granted it is a MICEFA class and takes place in the same building where I had my immersion classes, but there was a lecture and I took notes and it was real. We also had a small field trip over to Les Arènes de Lutece, the fun little Roman arena where I watched Some Like it Hot a while ago. Anyway, we saw that, then went over to my neighborhood, where there are the last few visible spots of a wall that surrounded Paris in the 7th century. Pretty sweet. The class is "History of Paris," so there will be lots of these little field trips. I think it's gonna be rather easy. A higher level French is required for the class that starts tomorrow, History of Franco-American relations. That is just going to be balls because after 8 hours at the elementary schools, I have to catch the 4:42 train to St. Lazare, then metro over to the Sorbonne for class at 6. Thursday is just going to be a heinous day. Next week I start my grammar classes (blah).
On the front of exercise, I may have found a solution (I know, it's like my 9798475th idea). Anyway, I went to Paris 7 yesterday to check out the sports complex. That entire campus seriously looks like a prison. It was so cold and metallic and scary. I saw the weight room and such, but France is fuckin bizarre and I can only use the work out rooms if I take the classes. So I have to take the cardio class twice a week or whatnot in order to use the machines. What a load. So after I escaped from St. Quentin I went home and made a last ditch effort to find a private gym online. I went back to the Club Med Gym website, which I had initially overlooked because none of the clubs are in walking distance. Well, one is a 4 minute metro ride away, so I figure it's worth a shot. I just plunked down $700 for that metro pass so I might as well use it, right? I'm going to check it out this afternoon. Another shitty thing about France is that everything has to be paid up front, so I assume I'll have to do another two-part ATM withdrawal in order to get this gym membership. So ridonkulous. There's another fancy gym sort of nearby but not very accessible by foot or metro. I made an appointment to check it out on Saturday, so if worse comes to worst, I get a free workout.
And now for something completely different. Lesson planning sucks ass. I have 6 classes, with kids who have about three different levels of English. So I've resigned myself to making three different lesson plans. So gross. So that is my homework tonight, I will go to bed at the ungodly hour of 10, wake up at the even more ungodly hour of 6 am, and pray that the fucking train comes.
On the front of exercise, I may have found a solution (I know, it's like my 9798475th idea). Anyway, I went to Paris 7 yesterday to check out the sports complex. That entire campus seriously looks like a prison. It was so cold and metallic and scary. I saw the weight room and such, but France is fuckin bizarre and I can only use the work out rooms if I take the classes. So I have to take the cardio class twice a week or whatnot in order to use the machines. What a load. So after I escaped from St. Quentin I went home and made a last ditch effort to find a private gym online. I went back to the Club Med Gym website, which I had initially overlooked because none of the clubs are in walking distance. Well, one is a 4 minute metro ride away, so I figure it's worth a shot. I just plunked down $700 for that metro pass so I might as well use it, right? I'm going to check it out this afternoon. Another shitty thing about France is that everything has to be paid up front, so I assume I'll have to do another two-part ATM withdrawal in order to get this gym membership. So ridonkulous. There's another fancy gym sort of nearby but not very accessible by foot or metro. I made an appointment to check it out on Saturday, so if worse comes to worst, I get a free workout.
And now for something completely different. Lesson planning sucks ass. I have 6 classes, with kids who have about three different levels of English. So I've resigned myself to making three different lesson plans. So gross. So that is my homework tonight, I will go to bed at the ungodly hour of 10, wake up at the even more ungodly hour of 6 am, and pray that the fucking train comes.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Sometimes my life is like a movie
Whether one crazy roommate is throwing my food out the window, or I'm suing another in small claims court. This morning was like some sort of situational irony where two simple mishaps just screwed me over.
So. I did manage to get to bed at 10:30 last night, giving me approximately 7.5 hours to sleep, minus the usual tossing and turning. Nevermind the fact that Puck fell in a box at 5:30 and I didn't get back to sleep (don't ask). So this morning, I had a plan. A good one. Here's the back-story. I need to get my carte Imagine-R. It is the student metro card, it is cool, blah blah. In order to get it, I must get a money order for 547 euros and send it in with my application. Because I am picky (and stupid), I don't yet have a French bank account. I could get one with Societé Générale sans carte de séjour, but what would be the fun in that. Anyway, so in order to have 547 euros in cash, I must withdraw it from my Bank of America account. Over two separate days, of course, because there is a $500 withdrawal limit per day. No prob. I got out 250 yesterday, I was going to get out another 300 this morning. And then I would go to the post office during my lunch break. Well, this $500 a day rule applies to each American day, as I've learned. So I withdrew 250 euros yesterday at approximately 2 am PST. And when I went to withdraw more this morning, it was technically 11 pm PST. Fuckin' A. I tried twice for good measure, then moved on with my life.
Unforunately, that extra five minutes on my day set into motion a dire chain of events. I was at the ATM, so I missed the 7:03 metro. I had to wait, and thus arrived on the platform at Gare St. Lazare just in time to miss the 7:18 train. No big deal, another one comes at 7:33, which will get my to Marly-le-roi at exactly 8:05, 25 minutes before my first class. But the 7:33 train never came. At 8:15, a train pulled up to the platform. I was ecstatic and rushed on. I would be late, but I would make it in time to teach something that first class. About 15 minutes into the trip, past the point where I could've changed trains, I realized that my train was heading in the wrong direction. I am still not clear how this happened, because each platform receives only one direction of trains. So I was like, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." But at least I knew that I wasn't too far from Marly, so I exited the train at Versailles Rive Droite and frantically searched the bus map for the line to Marly. No such luck, it's too far north. But, this bus line would take me to La Celle St. Cloud, a train station on the line to Marly. So I took the bus all the way to the fuckin' end, then waited ten more minutes for a train that then took ten more minutes to get to Marly. By the time I had hoofed it to my first school, I had just enough time to apologize to some faculty before I ran off to St. Exupéry. Sorry kids, we'll have to pick it up on Thursday.
So. I did manage to get to bed at 10:30 last night, giving me approximately 7.5 hours to sleep, minus the usual tossing and turning. Nevermind the fact that Puck fell in a box at 5:30 and I didn't get back to sleep (don't ask). So this morning, I had a plan. A good one. Here's the back-story. I need to get my carte Imagine-R. It is the student metro card, it is cool, blah blah. In order to get it, I must get a money order for 547 euros and send it in with my application. Because I am picky (and stupid), I don't yet have a French bank account. I could get one with Societé Générale sans carte de séjour, but what would be the fun in that. Anyway, so in order to have 547 euros in cash, I must withdraw it from my Bank of America account. Over two separate days, of course, because there is a $500 withdrawal limit per day. No prob. I got out 250 yesterday, I was going to get out another 300 this morning. And then I would go to the post office during my lunch break. Well, this $500 a day rule applies to each American day, as I've learned. So I withdrew 250 euros yesterday at approximately 2 am PST. And when I went to withdraw more this morning, it was technically 11 pm PST. Fuckin' A. I tried twice for good measure, then moved on with my life.
Unforunately, that extra five minutes on my day set into motion a dire chain of events. I was at the ATM, so I missed the 7:03 metro. I had to wait, and thus arrived on the platform at Gare St. Lazare just in time to miss the 7:18 train. No big deal, another one comes at 7:33, which will get my to Marly-le-roi at exactly 8:05, 25 minutes before my first class. But the 7:33 train never came. At 8:15, a train pulled up to the platform. I was ecstatic and rushed on. I would be late, but I would make it in time to teach something that first class. About 15 minutes into the trip, past the point where I could've changed trains, I realized that my train was heading in the wrong direction. I am still not clear how this happened, because each platform receives only one direction of trains. So I was like, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." But at least I knew that I wasn't too far from Marly, so I exited the train at Versailles Rive Droite and frantically searched the bus map for the line to Marly. No such luck, it's too far north. But, this bus line would take me to La Celle St. Cloud, a train station on the line to Marly. So I took the bus all the way to the fuckin' end, then waited ten more minutes for a train that then took ten more minutes to get to Marly. By the time I had hoofed it to my first school, I had just enough time to apologize to some faculty before I ran off to St. Exupéry. Sorry kids, we'll have to pick it up on Thursday.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Titles are hard
It is Saturday morning and I am savoring the ability to sleep in and do almost nothing, more than I have in months. I'm glad that I had the entire month of September to essentially fuck around, because shit is about kick into high gear.
Tuesday was heinous. The RATP website (the transit authority for Paris) was down on Monday night and so I couldn't make an itinerary for getting to orientation. I decided it couldn't take more than half an hour on the RER and planned accordingly. Man I was wrong. I spent an hour on the RER, then another half hour on the bus. The main office for the Academy of Versailles, department of Yvelines, is in the middle of NO WHERE. In a giant shopping mall. So ridiculous. So basically I was an hour late. The orientation itself was basically pointless. I mean I signed legal papers and got paperwork for direct depositing my paychecks, but the teaching tips were bullshit. Afterward I was so tired and frustrated that I bought myself a giant chocolate macaron and braved the commute home.
On Wednesday I had to go to the post office to pick up my missed package from Darty (toaster oven and hot pot). Of course the two relatively small items were packed into a giant box with a bunch of padding. There was a big blue string-like thing tied around it, so I used that to carry it home. I must have looked so dumb. Then I mounted the giant box on the banister in my stairwell and pushed it up three flights. It was totally bonkers. I am still sore from the ordeal. That afternoon I officially turned in everything for my carte de séjour, so now I have to wait for approval so I can go get a medical check up. Keisha already had hers and apparently they tried to ask for her vaccination records. The French are all about outlining the rules and then throwing in some extra stuff when you're all ready to go. Luckily most of this extraneous crap is just a power trip and not really essential. Anyway, Keisha also had some sort of torso x-ray done. I understand that they want us to be healthy so they won't have to take care of us in case some pre-existing condition makes us sick, but honestly what was going to be on that x-ray? A baby? I don't think cancer shows up on your average x-ray. Whatever.
Thursday was my first day of teaching. I was up at 6 am and on the 7:18 train leaving from St. Lazare. So bogus. The schools are fine, so are the kids, but I'm frustrated with the administrators. There are just no teaching guidelines, no materials, no way to find out what their English teachers are teaching so I can supplement it. So I will wing it. Luckily I'm not responsible for testing or grading, just for getting them to speak. So that is what I will do. After teaching my first CE2 class (8 year olds), I was so frustrated I just wanted to leave. I don't understand why they want me to teach a conversation class to kids who have maybe a month's worth of English in their brains. They're not conversational, duh.
Anyway, I managed to overcome the hopelessness by the end of the day. The kids are great for the most part. They're very chatty but I think it bothers their teachers more than it bothers me. Their teachers want them to shut up all the time and honestly, I only need silence when I'm talking or I'm calling on someone. I remember quite vividly what it's like to be a kid, and even more vividly what is was like to learn a foreign language for the first time (although I honestly can't remember about much English Mme. Butler used -- the two languages have melted together in my mind).
Anyway, I survived that day and dragged my tired ass home. Friday was another Nanterre-marathon day. I got two of the classes I wanted, but one is too full so it looks like I'll be in two MICEFA classes (History of Paris and History of Franco-American Relations). Oh well. Keisha, Lucia, and I also stopped by the sports complex to get the schedule of classes and such. Next week I'll get my SUAPS card (they LOVE their acronyms here) and then I'll try to fit stuff in around my class schedule. I also need to stop by Paris 7 to check out their schedule and sign up procedure. Their website says I need a medical exam, but Paris X doesn't, so who knows. I'll have two classes starting this week with MICEFA, but my Nanterre classes won't start until the week after.
I stayed up way too late last night and now I'm afraid I've screwed myself for waking up at 6 am on Monday. Ugh, it is so painful. Today I'm going to take it easy, do laundry, maybe go out tonight? And tomorrow will be lesson-planning day. Gah. Luckily class periods are only about 35 minutes, so I don't have to fill up the time with much.
Tuesday was heinous. The RATP website (the transit authority for Paris) was down on Monday night and so I couldn't make an itinerary for getting to orientation. I decided it couldn't take more than half an hour on the RER and planned accordingly. Man I was wrong. I spent an hour on the RER, then another half hour on the bus. The main office for the Academy of Versailles, department of Yvelines, is in the middle of NO WHERE. In a giant shopping mall. So ridiculous. So basically I was an hour late. The orientation itself was basically pointless. I mean I signed legal papers and got paperwork for direct depositing my paychecks, but the teaching tips were bullshit. Afterward I was so tired and frustrated that I bought myself a giant chocolate macaron and braved the commute home.
On Wednesday I had to go to the post office to pick up my missed package from Darty (toaster oven and hot pot). Of course the two relatively small items were packed into a giant box with a bunch of padding. There was a big blue string-like thing tied around it, so I used that to carry it home. I must have looked so dumb. Then I mounted the giant box on the banister in my stairwell and pushed it up three flights. It was totally bonkers. I am still sore from the ordeal. That afternoon I officially turned in everything for my carte de séjour, so now I have to wait for approval so I can go get a medical check up. Keisha already had hers and apparently they tried to ask for her vaccination records. The French are all about outlining the rules and then throwing in some extra stuff when you're all ready to go. Luckily most of this extraneous crap is just a power trip and not really essential. Anyway, Keisha also had some sort of torso x-ray done. I understand that they want us to be healthy so they won't have to take care of us in case some pre-existing condition makes us sick, but honestly what was going to be on that x-ray? A baby? I don't think cancer shows up on your average x-ray. Whatever.
Thursday was my first day of teaching. I was up at 6 am and on the 7:18 train leaving from St. Lazare. So bogus. The schools are fine, so are the kids, but I'm frustrated with the administrators. There are just no teaching guidelines, no materials, no way to find out what their English teachers are teaching so I can supplement it. So I will wing it. Luckily I'm not responsible for testing or grading, just for getting them to speak. So that is what I will do. After teaching my first CE2 class (8 year olds), I was so frustrated I just wanted to leave. I don't understand why they want me to teach a conversation class to kids who have maybe a month's worth of English in their brains. They're not conversational, duh.
Anyway, I managed to overcome the hopelessness by the end of the day. The kids are great for the most part. They're very chatty but I think it bothers their teachers more than it bothers me. Their teachers want them to shut up all the time and honestly, I only need silence when I'm talking or I'm calling on someone. I remember quite vividly what it's like to be a kid, and even more vividly what is was like to learn a foreign language for the first time (although I honestly can't remember about much English Mme. Butler used -- the two languages have melted together in my mind).
Anyway, I survived that day and dragged my tired ass home. Friday was another Nanterre-marathon day. I got two of the classes I wanted, but one is too full so it looks like I'll be in two MICEFA classes (History of Paris and History of Franco-American Relations). Oh well. Keisha, Lucia, and I also stopped by the sports complex to get the schedule of classes and such. Next week I'll get my SUAPS card (they LOVE their acronyms here) and then I'll try to fit stuff in around my class schedule. I also need to stop by Paris 7 to check out their schedule and sign up procedure. Their website says I need a medical exam, but Paris X doesn't, so who knows. I'll have two classes starting this week with MICEFA, but my Nanterre classes won't start until the week after.
I stayed up way too late last night and now I'm afraid I've screwed myself for waking up at 6 am on Monday. Ugh, it is so painful. Today I'm going to take it easy, do laundry, maybe go out tonight? And tomorrow will be lesson-planning day. Gah. Luckily class periods are only about 35 minutes, so I don't have to fill up the time with much.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Shit son
Today I discovered why so many French people smell bad. It rains. It's humid as a mother fucker. And then you run around all day and sit on the metro with a billion other people. Then you smell. Today I ran up the stairs to my apartment, stripped, and threw myself into that frigid shower. Who needs hot water when the weather sucks so hard?
In other news, I went out to Marly-le-roi and met les gosses and the teachers at my schools. One of my schools is named after Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and there are little petit prince drawings all over the walls. I met some little kids with French flags painted on their faces -- so cute. I am starting on Thursday, which is terrifying because my orientation is only tomorrow. The kids are pretty young and so I have a feeling that there will be a lot of French involved because their English is not up to par. I've been warned that I shouldn't speak French to the kids because they'll laugh at my accent (whatevs) but the director today said that I "parlez presque sans accent." Perhaps the best French compliment I've ever heard.
In other news, I went out to Marly-le-roi and met les gosses and the teachers at my schools. One of my schools is named after Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and there are little petit prince drawings all over the walls. I met some little kids with French flags painted on their faces -- so cute. I am starting on Thursday, which is terrifying because my orientation is only tomorrow. The kids are pretty young and so I have a feeling that there will be a lot of French involved because their English is not up to par. I've been warned that I shouldn't speak French to the kids because they'll laugh at my accent (whatevs) but the director today said that I "parlez presque sans accent." Perhaps the best French compliment I've ever heard.
Et alors, il commence. . .
These past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Matt arrived on the 18, and we promptly blew out my electricity with a surge protector. We managed to get the emergency electrician over with help from a French friend, and most of the problem was fixed. After one more visit from another electrician, all of the appliances and lights were working. However, the dire situation lies in the water heater, and I have not had a hot shower in almost two weeks. My landlady offered to put me up in a hotel until it's fixed, but I don't think it's worth it. I feel like I should save this karma for another time.
The first few days Matt was here, he slept between 19 and 12 hours a night, which turned out nicely because I didn't have to worry about keeping him entertained while I was in class. We saw three movies (Death at a Funeral, Paris Je T'Aime, and Interview) thanks to Rentrée du Cinéma, a nifty little offer over a week or so where you buy one movie ticket and get one more for a euro. Holla. We did manage to get out on Friday night though, to drink under the Eiffel Tower with the Sciences Po crew.
This past week was much more exciting, after Matt had conquered the jet lag and a wicked cold acquired in transit. Tuesday night was a Sciences Po party. I felt so Parisian and grown-up, walking into the club at 2 am and not leaving until 5. Alas, the techno is probably taking over my life, but they did manage to throw in a couple songs I knew, even if most of them were disco or oldies. The French like a very bizarre mix of American music. Then we walked our sweaty and sore asses home only to finally nous couchons at 6 am. Which was great when I got up at 11:30 the next day to write some notes for the exposée I had to give in class at 1 pm. For whatever nutso reason I stayed for the party and movie, then dragged myself home to nap. Matt was on the first of a few of his self-directed excursions, but my nap was shot to shit anyway by the electrician. And still no hot water.
On Friday we ventured out again with the Sciences Po crew, to Le Queen, a formerly gay and now mostly trendy club on the Champs-Elysees. In an attempt to make it a somewhat earlier night, we should up at midnight, just after opening. Stupid idea. Everyone sipped their Smirnoff mixed drinks at tables and stared at each other until probably 1. And this time they only played one, SINGLE, SOLITARY song I knew. But whatever. It was great fun. I've adored dancing in that setting since the days of Bar Mitzvahs and Jew dances, but nowadays the guys actually know how to dance and it is a vast improvement.
In fact, while dancing on the mini-stage thinger with my buddy Alejandro, he refused to move for the glittery go-go dancer and got kicked out. Never get belligerent to a man in a fur stole. We ended up finding him outside, then going for crepes and taking the night bus home.
Saturday night was more low key but still fabulous. After seeing 2 Days in Paris (for the second time), we hoofed it to the Marais to try a cafe one of Matt's NY Times editors suggested. It was packed, but we ended up finding Chez Hanna around the corner. I have to preface this by saying that the Marais is both the Jewish and the gay district in Paris. So we ate falafel and hommos in a pink room with feather boas glued to the lamps while listening to the Scissor Sisters.
Sunday morning, we got our asses up before dawn and cabbed it to Gare du Nord, where I saw Matt off to Angleterre. I promptly returned home and slept until 2 pm. I spent the rest of the day watching Buffy, then listening to Say Anything and missing San Diego. But in a good way.
For those of you who don't know, my mom put our house on the market last week and sold it in five days. That's Carmel Valley for you. She's put in an offer to buy my cousin's old apartment in Berkeley, where I once spent a shit-faced night and still adore. It's a little disorienting because while I was packing for Paris and blowing a gasket at the thought of having to choose which stuff made the move with my mom, my comfort was that I had plenty of time. Not so anymore. But whatever, if she can get her dream home and pay off school for Sean and I, then allez-y.
Alright, now that you're all caught up (hi Sean), I have to leave so I can photocopy some shizzle, turn in my carte de séjour shit at MICEFA (read: LAZY), and spend an hour on the fuckin' RER so I can go meet some personnel at my teaching job. Peace out!
The first few days Matt was here, he slept between 19 and 12 hours a night, which turned out nicely because I didn't have to worry about keeping him entertained while I was in class. We saw three movies (Death at a Funeral, Paris Je T'Aime, and Interview) thanks to Rentrée du Cinéma, a nifty little offer over a week or so where you buy one movie ticket and get one more for a euro. Holla. We did manage to get out on Friday night though, to drink under the Eiffel Tower with the Sciences Po crew.
This past week was much more exciting, after Matt had conquered the jet lag and a wicked cold acquired in transit. Tuesday night was a Sciences Po party. I felt so Parisian and grown-up, walking into the club at 2 am and not leaving until 5. Alas, the techno is probably taking over my life, but they did manage to throw in a couple songs I knew, even if most of them were disco or oldies. The French like a very bizarre mix of American music. Then we walked our sweaty and sore asses home only to finally nous couchons at 6 am. Which was great when I got up at 11:30 the next day to write some notes for the exposée I had to give in class at 1 pm. For whatever nutso reason I stayed for the party and movie, then dragged myself home to nap. Matt was on the first of a few of his self-directed excursions, but my nap was shot to shit anyway by the electrician. And still no hot water.
On Friday we ventured out again with the Sciences Po crew, to Le Queen, a formerly gay and now mostly trendy club on the Champs-Elysees. In an attempt to make it a somewhat earlier night, we should up at midnight, just after opening. Stupid idea. Everyone sipped their Smirnoff mixed drinks at tables and stared at each other until probably 1. And this time they only played one, SINGLE, SOLITARY song I knew. But whatever. It was great fun. I've adored dancing in that setting since the days of Bar Mitzvahs and Jew dances, but nowadays the guys actually know how to dance and it is a vast improvement.
In fact, while dancing on the mini-stage thinger with my buddy Alejandro, he refused to move for the glittery go-go dancer and got kicked out. Never get belligerent to a man in a fur stole. We ended up finding him outside, then going for crepes and taking the night bus home.
Saturday night was more low key but still fabulous. After seeing 2 Days in Paris (for the second time), we hoofed it to the Marais to try a cafe one of Matt's NY Times editors suggested. It was packed, but we ended up finding Chez Hanna around the corner. I have to preface this by saying that the Marais is both the Jewish and the gay district in Paris. So we ate falafel and hommos in a pink room with feather boas glued to the lamps while listening to the Scissor Sisters.
Sunday morning, we got our asses up before dawn and cabbed it to Gare du Nord, where I saw Matt off to Angleterre. I promptly returned home and slept until 2 pm. I spent the rest of the day watching Buffy, then listening to Say Anything and missing San Diego. But in a good way.
For those of you who don't know, my mom put our house on the market last week and sold it in five days. That's Carmel Valley for you. She's put in an offer to buy my cousin's old apartment in Berkeley, where I once spent a shit-faced night and still adore. It's a little disorienting because while I was packing for Paris and blowing a gasket at the thought of having to choose which stuff made the move with my mom, my comfort was that I had plenty of time. Not so anymore. But whatever, if she can get her dream home and pay off school for Sean and I, then allez-y.
Alright, now that you're all caught up (hi Sean), I have to leave so I can photocopy some shizzle, turn in my carte de séjour shit at MICEFA (read: LAZY), and spend an hour on the fuckin' RER so I can go meet some personnel at my teaching job. Peace out!
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