I don't speak English good no more

The more French I learn, the more English I seem to forget. That's actually not entirely true. But I do find myself thinking in terms of French grammar. Instead of Lucie's father, I think, the father of Lucie. Or instead of, "I need that nutella and banana crêpe," I think, "the nutella and banana crêpe of which I have need..." etc. I hope I don't return home saying, "My shoe black on my foot left hurts much my toes."
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We cooked for five hours yesterday. BU hosted a French food class. The courses:

- Appetizer and Apéritif: tomato and dijon tartes with salt and Herbes de Provence. (I ate about twelve of them. They were so delicious.) Ate it with some cider.
- Salad: mixed greens with warm goat cheese and homemade dijon vinaigrette and walnuts, along with red wine. (Elisabeth, the instructor, bought Bergerac wine, in honor of "Cyrano de Bergerac," the play we are all going to see tomorrow as a group. Cute.)
- Plat principal: endives au jambon....sautéed endives wrapped in ham and topped with a sauce that used half a block of butter to make. I'm glad I tasted the dish, but I won't be making it any time soon. With this, we had another red wine, Buzet. I prefered this to the Bergerac. It was a bit stronger, but still smooth. Hmm. I actually sound like I know what I'm talking about. Haha.
- Dessert: mousse au chocolat! It is seriously one of the simplest desserts you could possibly make. All you need is chocolate and eggs, and a little elbow grease. We finished off the wines with this last course.

And of course, along with it all, lots of good, lazy afternoon conversation.

Left there full and satisfied. Or should I say, the lunch delicious me gave a coma of food and I had need of a train rapid to me take to the house of me to me put to sleep....

In English: All that food made me sleepy, so I went home and took a nap. Fin. (The end.)

Photos!

My mom's is better

Dinner tonight was delicious. Françoise made French onion soup for our first course, followed by gnocchi with crème fraîche and what was essentially a cross between bacon and ham (I forget the French name for it), and for dessert, tarte aux pommes (apple tart). We had delicious white wine with the gnocchi and dessert, and lots of good conversation. (I think any conversation is good if I am able to communicate clearly in French. Even the most menial of subjects somehow becomes more interesting to me if I can talk about them fluently in another language.)

Another thing that made today one of the best days I've had so far: Tanya's and my favorite boulangerie reopened this morning after a ten-day vacation. I went there for a chausson aux pommes for breakfast. The smell of freshly baked bread and warm pastries was divine. The baguettes from this place are the best I've tasted. On several lucky occasions, I have timed my visit to coincide with a fresh batch of bread, toasty and crunchy on the outside, warm, soft, fluffy, melt-in-your-mouth on the inside. The aroma is almost as good as the taste of the bread itself. And I've just written an entire paragraph about bread. Welcome back, boulangerie, welcome back.

Ingrina is in town for a couple days, so I hung out with her for most of the afternoon and showed her around a bit. It was fun playing host for a few hours. The weather was pretty gloomy this morning, but as is custom in this old city, it cleared up into a beautiful afternoon. The sunset today was one of the best yet. We visited the Museé d'Orsay, the Louvre (just the outside to take a picture of the pyramid), and Notre Dame. The Musée d'Orsay used to be a train station, a fact that is obvious upon entrance. It looked a bit like Grand Central Station in NYC, but much prettier (not that Grand Central isn't cool). I absolutely loved it. More than the Louvre. We got a fleeting glimpse of the inside of Notre Dame before the security guard rudely kicked us out. You'd think they'd show a little more grace in a church. No worries, though.

We relaxed from a full day of walking (I walked all day, from my house to BU, then from BU to the Musée d'Orsay (and all of its exhibits), to the Louvre, to Notre Dame, which is probably 4 or 5 miles total) with some café au lait and pain au chocolate from a nearby café. The pain au choc was grossly overpriced, but it was Ingrina's first, and I approved of its taste, so c'est pas gràve. I dropped her off with Jorge in the Latin Quarter before heading home to dinner with the host family. (--> a really huge, really cool clock inside Musée d'Orsay overlooking Paris and Sacré Coeur)

I did not do a lick of homework today. And it was splendid. I'm going to bed now, and I've done nothing productive in the way of academia. But I think today's activities were infinitely more valuable than teaching myself the conjugations of the conditional passé or the passé intérieur (which no one uses anyway), so no worries.

The delicious dinner was the crowning point to my wonderful day.

A final word about the French onion soup: Françoise's was good, but my mom's is better.

Paella, sangria, churros...must be ¡Madrid!

These are all sorts of outta order, but they're all in Madrid...Plaza de Mayor, Palais Royal, churros and chocolate, bus tour, Spanish architecture, sangria, sunset on the plane ride to Madrid, etc. Enjoy! (Click to enlarge.)

(The post about the trip is below the photos.)

Paris, tu m'as manqué

I crashed last night at about 3 and got up early to finish the paper. So after this is finished, I'm more than likely going to sleep until tomorrow. I don't remember the last time I went to bed before 11 pm.

Anywho, Madrid! I'll start with a summary for those who don't want to or don't have the time to read this extremely long entry.

Things I learned on this trip: 1.) Paris is awesome. Going to Madrid made me appreciate this city so much more. I think I may have even been a little homesick for this dreary old ville. 2.) Parisian food is awesome. 3.) Don't deny the bread if you want to avoid the wrath. 4.) Clubbing can be fun if done properly 5.) I think I could learn Spanish. Just give me a month.

Paris, tu m'as manqué = Paris, I missed you. I'm glad I went to Madrid, but I'm happy to be back "home." Even if my city did welcome me back in the form of cold temperatures, scattered showers, and a fresh coat of dog poop on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. Thanks, Paris. You're the top.
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If you're curious for the details, read on! If you just want pictures, see the entry above.

We got in on Thursday night and hit the ground running. I was exhausted from the heaviest week of school of the semester, and was in no mood to go out. However, my friends would not let me rest up for Friday, so we all got dressed and got our first taste of night life in Madrid. The first obvious difference between Espagne and Paris: Madrid is a heck of a lot cheaper. Clubs in Paris are between 15 and 20 euros, and that's just a cover charge that doesn't include drinks or the coat check. Madrid's cover charges, if they weren't free, were only ten euros! I'm not really the clubbing type (unless it's a jazz club), but I must admit that I had a blast this weekend.

Thursday's club was called Joy. It was free for students, so we decided to check it out. Despite running on no more than 4 or 5 hours of sleep, I somehow managed to stay out until about 4am, at which point we all piled into a cab and headed back to the hotel.

But the fun didn't stop there. Friday night, we went to Kapital, which is probably the most unique place I have been in a while. I learned about it from my friend Steph, who is studying abroad in Madrid this semester. It's a seven floor club, where each floor has a different theme. The main floor was house/techno, and there were also rooms for hip-hop and Latin music, and several floors with lounges and karaoke. One floor even had a movie theatre. Ridiculous. We bounced between floors, until we discovered that the main floor has a plume of icy cold fog that shoots down on the crowd every twenty minutes or so.

The music would build up to this crazy fast pulsating beat and the lights would start flashing and people would jump around and dance and it all built up into this huge suspenseful wait until finally......WHOOSH! A chilling, refreshing blast of fog to cool the dance floor. It was like being trapped in a whirlwind for five seconds. It was pretty spectacular. Friday night was also a 5am bedtime, as we piled 5-deep into a cab at around 4. Apparently, 4am is early. Kids in Madrid usually start their nights around 2 or 3, stay out until 6, at which point they grab hot chocolate and churros and wait for the metro to start running again to take them home. That's dedication.

It turns out that we just so happened to visit Madrid in the middle of Carnival. There were festivities all over the city, and people dressed up like it was Halloween. We bought some cheap masks and wore them out on Saturday night. 'Twas quite fun.

Not to be labeled as strictly party animals, we were sure to hit up all the historic sites during the day as well. Basically, we did Madrid on about 5 hours of sleep each day, combined with a siesta in the evening before going out for dinner and clubbing. It was not a bad way to spend three days, although by Sunday I was exhausted and ready to return to my normal, calmer (and more boring?) way of life.

We purchased two-day hop on hop off bus passes that took us all around Madrid, hit up the Museo del Prado, the Grand Palais (which was AWESOME), and did some shopping. Madrid is a tiny city, and we soon discovered that we could get everywhere by walking. On the last day, we lounged around in Plaza de Mayor, this cool courtyard with tons of street performers and outdoor restaurants. Saturday and Sunday's weather was absolutely beautiful, so we basked in the sun as much as possible.

A word about food. To put it simply: I missed Paris. A lot. I will never again take for granted the crèpe stands on every corner, or the boulangeries in every neighborhood, or the free bread and free water at restaurants, or the waiters who say bonjour to you when you enter. On all levels, the food scene in Madrid was not so hot. Grab and go food doesn't exist in Madrid, and so at one point, we actually had to stoop to McDonald's take out. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a Big Mac? Years. YEARS. It was an epic fail in the lunch department.

However, on Friday night, we did go to this delicious restaurant for paella and sangria. The waitress hated us from the moment we told her that we didn't want the non-free bread, but despite her less than cheery disposition, the food was excellent. We ordered two paellas, one with everything (seafood, chicken, sausage, veggies), and one with chicken and sausage. The pans of paella were about half the size of our table, which sat 6 people comfortably. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to prove it. But if I were exaggerating, I'd let you know. We literally scraped the pans clean.

On Sunday, we tried to get tapas from a restaurant in Plaza de Mayor. We placed our order only to have the waiter return ten minutes later to inform us that they had run out of paella. How does a tapas restaurant run out of paella? That's like McDonald's running out of french fries. We did, however, have some absolutely delicious sangria. The catch: it turned out that the pitcher cost 20 EUROS! The pitcher from the night before was only 10. Another fail in the lunch department.

We finished the day with churros, which we dipped in hot chocolate, before heading to the airport to come back to Paris. And by hot chocolate, I mean pure chocolate melted and poured into a cup in a thick, rich, goopy, warm, messy, chocately delight. Believe it or not, it was actually too rich for me to finish. I could only make it about a third of the way before I had to give up the ghost.

All in all, it was a good trip. The perfect amount of time to get away from Paris for a bit and explore some place new, but also just long enough to make me realize what a great deal I've got in this lovely city of mine.

If you've made it this far, you're the bomb. Thanks for reading.

It's too late for a clever title

Suffice it to say, though, that I am alive and content. Just got back from Madrid about half an hour ago, and it was awesome. There will be more on that later. Right now, it is 1:25am in Paris, and I have to finish writing a paper (kinda failed at planning ahead, but whatevs. I'm studying abroad. Emphasis on A B R O A D. Haha). And I have class at 9am. Bonne nuit for now.

Je suis fini

...is actually not the correct way to say "I'm finished." Unless you mean in the dead sort of way. As in when I die, I'll be finished. Or my midterms killed me, so now I'm finished. To say you're finished with a project, or with dinner, or with tying your shoe, the correct phrase is, "J'ai fini." I, however, meant the first version.

Midterms are over, and je suis fini. More in the sense that I'm exhausted than anything else. The tests themselves weren't that bad, though they would have been better had I studied sooner than yesterday night at about 8 o'clock. Sorry college, I cheated on you with my new friend Paris.

One of the things I did yesterday instead of study for midterms was book two trips: one to Madrid for next weekend, and one to....A SOCCER GAME IN BARCELONA!! Madrid is cool, ya know, but I'm so excited for the football match in Barcelona that the only way I can express it in writing is to use all caps and add a gross amount of explanation points after BARCELONA!!!!!!!

I'm going to Madrid for a long weekend with Tanya and four other friends. The only thing that stands between me and Espagne are three presentations, a paper, and a quiz. All due next week. Nothing much.

I'm going to Barcelona with a friend for part of spring break. We were lucky enough to snag one of the last sets of seats that were actually next to each other (as opposed to caty-corner, or even better, a section apart). Judging by how difficult it was for us to find two seats together, I think the game is nearly sold out. Which will be awesome. The only thing standing between us and Barcelona is, well, an actual ticket TO Barcelona. Haha. Minor detail. (Oh yeah, and finals. Another minor detail.)

For the first time in the month or so that I've been here (whoa, it's been more than month already?!), I am finally starting to enjoy myself. I've been having a good time so far, and I've met a lot of cool people, seen some cool stuff, etc., but it hasn't really felt like what I thought a trip to Europe would feel like. Being in Paris is great, but there has not really been anything magical about this place for me, not like there seems to be for other people. I haven't had that, "Wow, I'm in freaking Paris!" feeling at all yet. I think now that I actually have travel plans, now that I will actually be exploring new places and doing the things for which I have so frugaly saved all my pennies, this study abroad thing will start to feel more like it should. And as more time passes, I think the wow-factor of my host city will kick in a bit more. Or maybe I'm just not the exciteable type. I dunno.

Anywho, I need to dormir. And by dormir I mean sleep for the next four to six hours to make up for what I missed last night. Peace.

Sunsets and Chocolate

Not much time to write anything, as I have to study for midterms (I'm not sure how I feel about abbreviated semesters...), but I caught a beautiful sunset over the Seine this evening on my walk home from school. These are proof that my two feet beat the métro any day.

[the tippy top of the sunset]

[crossing over to the Right Bank]

[the Passy viaduct]

[sunset over the Right Bank]

And introducing.....pain au chocolat...aux amandes! (My favorite pastry made even more succulent with the addition of what is essentially an almond paste. It tasted kind of like a mélange of galette de roi and pain au chocolat, my two favorite desserts. It was good, but a bit too rich for me. I think I'll stick to enjoying the two separately.)

[a rich little piece of heaven]

C'est tout. "La Cantatrice Chauve" is calling my name.

Obama for President

Who wouldn't want Obama on their bum?

(Some underwear I found at a boutique in Le Marais.)

Soldes!

Get it while it's hot, folks. Paris is on sale for two more days. Every year, beginning in January, all of France goes on one massive sale that lasts until mid-February. There are "Soldes" signs in every store window, so if you're gonna faire des courses (shop!), now's the time to do it. (Audrey's had some really unique shirts and dresses. Perhaps when mommy comes to visit, we'll go back...? Hehe.)

In addition to my gorgeous boots (which I've worn twice already), I've gotten a couple shirts, and am in the market for an across-the-body purse (so the pick pockets can't get me!). The sales end Tuesday, so some time between studying for midterms (which are Friday, which is stupid), preparing two presentations and a debate, and going to the theatre to see a plot-less play for class ("La Cantatrice Chauve" = The Bald Soprano = hey Ionesco, you suck!), I need to hit up the stores.

Ahh, the joys of spending away last summer's Park Ranger earnings.

On Friday, I went to the Musée du Vin for a dégustation course with the rest of the A-J crowd in my program. We spent probably three hours learning about wine, comparing the colors of different wines, smelling wine, writing about wine....and finally, we TASTED wine. We had five total: two reds, two whites, and a sparkling white. None of them were spectacular, but the sparkling white and the old red were the best. So far I'm liking California wine better than what the French have to offer. (Granted, I haven't forked over the cash for a really "good" bottle just yet. Pictured is an 850 EURO bottle of Cognac, which equals about a thousand American dollars. Is it really even that good??)

Last Wednesday, my Economics class took a field trip to L'Union de L'Europe Occidentale to learn about the innerworkings of the UEO. It was better than sitting in a classroom for two and a half hours. The emcee annoyed me though. He was this round little man who made jokes nonstop about President Bush. I learned something about myself during that field trip: I don't really like it when foreigners poke fun at my presidents. I don't think I took offense to the fact that it was George Bush, necessarily, because I'm not a huge fan. But I got pretty tired of that silly French man yacking on and on about the ex-Pres. We Americans can critique and criticize our presidents without outside help, thank you very much.

They absolutely love Obama over here. Everyone on the panel at the UEO talked about how they can't wait to see how Obama's new foreign policies will affect the European Union, how they're excited to see what he can do with and for them, etc. etc. They then asked us as Americans to give a short word about our outlook on the new administration. Everyone came to basically the same conclusion: Obama can't save the world. He needs to start with America. I find the expectations of the rest of the world quite interesting. I'm excited for the new president (I clapped and cheered with the rest of my campus when the election results were announced), and I think he will do a lot of good. I'm also glad that the rest of the world seems to be happy for America for once. But I think people are jumping to conclusions too quickly. I hope they aren't upset if everything doesn't come together right away.

All right. Enough about politics. Time to stop avoiding my Econ homework. Here's to partiels (midterms). Bleh.

I'm Yours

Some French people outside my window are singing Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" right now. Funny how I'm in a country that supposedly doesn't like loud Americans too much, yet everywhere I go, American culture is somehow put on display. I think the French secretly love us.

Broke the bank

I can't pretend I didn't understand the number the woman quoted at the register. Perhaps I subconsciously avoided translating the French price into English numbers, never mind the Euro into American Dollars. Or perhaps my hands moved to my wallet faster than my mind could calculate the financial gravity of the situation. I was in a daze throughout the whole process. I think I had a minor heart attack when I got my credit card and receipt back. I'm serious. I let out a little gasp when I walked out onto the street after it was all through, cold air on my face and ungloved hands, big bag with new purchase dangling from my fingers.

"What have I done?"

I somehow managed to get my phone out of my pocket and tap in the conversion from Euros to Dollars on the calculator. The number popped up. It was then that I decided to fast for an indefinite amount of time, as I had just spent about a month's worth of grocery money. (Okay, maybe a little exaggeration. But not much.)

Why all this drama, you ask?

These:


They were just so damn cute! Look at the details! The heel, the buckle, the little ruffle on the legs. Who could pass that up? I mean, who? Nevermind that I'm a college student on a budget. You get one life, and you might as well live it in cute shoes.

Alors, here's to bread and wine for the next few days. (Cheap wine, mind you.)

Hey there, February

Tanya and I met some friends to go to see the Picasso exhibit at the Petite Palais this evening, but when we got there, there was a line zig-zagging across the front lawn of the museum. The sign at the back of the line said there was a four hour wait to get into the exhibit. Coincidentally, it was also about four degrees outside. Forget Picasso. We got crêpes instead.

Earlier today, Tanya and I climbed up to the top of Sacré Coeur, the highest point in Paris. (More pictures below.) I haven't yet had a chance to look up how many steps it takes to get to the top, but I'll just say that it isn't for the fat or the faint of heart. A narrow, winding staircase is the only way to mount the dome, but it was well worth it. This after I had already walked for about 45 minutes, and ran into yet another scammer trying to pick my pockets/sell me the ring I had supposedly dropped on the ground. Don't these people know that I am a well-informed tourist? I read my travel books carefully, thank you very much.

After that, we walked to Moulin Rouge. Not exactly a family friendly area, but I found it more amusing than offensive. Fun fact about Montmartre (where Sacré Coeur and Moulin Rouge are located): before it was incorporated into the Paris city limits, it was a tax-free zone for alcohol, so frugal drinkers would go there to buy liquor. The monks in Montmartre would thus make wine at the monasteries. How ironic. Monks making wine in what would later become the sex district. Oh, Paris.

The last thing to report (in this kind of boring entry....) is that I went to a jazz club yesterday night with Trevor, Sam, Jillian, Mark Anthony (and girlfriend), and Patrick, and it was one of the most enjoyable places I've been so far. It's this little joint called the Hippocampus. It's about as big as my living room, and has a very homey feel. The bartender was this middle-aged woman, probably late 50s, and the owner/manager/waiter doubled (or quadrupled?) as the washboard player for the three-piece jazz ensemble that entertained us all night. (A clarinet player and a pianist finished out the group.) We were the youngest people in the place by far, but we didn't care.

The band played a range of jazz and other popular music, including selections from that silly musical from way back when with John Travolta and all those catchy songs about cars and summer loving that are kind of guilty pleasures. It was pretty funny listening to the pianist sing, "Tell me mooore, tell me mooore," in his French accent. My favorite was when the pianist played Ray Charles's "What'd I Say," ("Zat's vat ei zeey" with the accent) complete with the signature "Hey, ho" call and response. We of course sang along. It was pretty classic. At the end of the night, he gave a special shout out to "les jeunes" (us young folks). Nice.

Tomorrow we are going to Trevor's favorite jazz place. He's got a crush on one of the waitresses there. Maybe the music will be good, too. :-)
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More pictures! Mostly of Sacré Coeur, which was the only thing worth photographing today.


:: These two are after the first part of the climb, overlooking Montmartre. ::


:: The first is from the very top, after the second part of the climb. The second is a blurry pic of the spiral staircase. ::


:: From the very top of the dome, overlooking Paris. If you look hard in the first picture, you can see the Eiffel Tower in the middle. I love the haze over the city. ::


:: Hippocampus jazz club & restaurant: pianist, clarinet player's mini-saxophone ::
(Fun fact about the saxophone photo: if you click on it to blow up the image, you can see my friend Patrick reflected in the right-hand side of the instrument, and again on the left-hand side. You can also see my reflection on the left as I am taking the picture. Details, details.)