Being bored Blows

So yes, here I am in Paris...bored outta my mind at the moment! There's a fine line between being too happy that you're not normal and disappointing people who think that being in Paris is the ticket to having the time of my life. I've been on the "ever-so-happy" side for months, despite natural moments being on the down-side of up. But right now, I'm just plain bored. It's too darn cold to be motivated to take a walk, and my usual call-up-at-any-time friends are all gone. I'm showered, have my hair dried, and could be presentable at the drop of a dime. But for the moment, I'm in sweatpants and my favorite sweatshirt, which as much as I love it, should NOT be worn every night for a week! This is normal. It's alright, I keep saying to myself. My 662-page book, of which I'm on page 14, is the perfect accompaniment to this glass of red wine. It's Thursday night...where is the old Friends, Will & Grace, Apprentice, ER line-up when you need it?

Bright but not White

It's now 11:00 pm, and I have no idea where my day went or how so many of my "projects" for today could still be un-touched with relatively little to show for the past 13 hours! But...it did finally snow here today. It was merely a dusting which didn't stick around for long, but I managed to take one photo where you can see the contrast between a fully-bloomed flower and snow on the ground. I tried to go to the temporary Russian art exhibit at Musee d'Orsay, but the long line outside in the freezing cold deterred me. I get a potential tutoring job contact, booked a hotel room for my cousin Nic who arrives in less than a week (smile!), and tracked down the ND Club of Paris's president to inquire about a Bowl-game watch! But without much to report today, I just wanted to show these pictures from my immediate neighborhood. "Montorgueil" is the name of the pedestrian street off of which my little street is situated.

I will still be Joyeux this Noel

It's Christmas Eve, and I miss my family. I want to be with my brothers, my mom, and my dad. I want to see my aunts and uncles and consins. I want to sing "Let there be Peace on Earth" with the Gentine family tonight and joke with my cousins Nic and Paula tomorrow about when we'd be harassed to play an instrument or sing while our moms told us how much they loved it when we used our musical talents. Christmas Eve in Paris is relatively warm, and not at all white. But every time I expect to be lonely here, somebody makes sure that doesn't happen.

Yesterday was my first day of break from class, so I spent the afternoon at the Musee de Picasso (my favorite one here!). I marveled at the way his style changed over the years, and for anyone who claims to not like Picasso, I'd argue that, in this museum, I'd be shocked if you didn't find a period of his life that you really connect with. I brought my journal and sat in two different rooms and sketched. I had coffee with Henderson before he left for home, and then I had dinner with Molly and we ended up at the cafe with Melanie, Johann, Wilson, and Yann where we looked at Google Earth to find Molly's apartment in Brooklyn and mine in Chicago. Then I spent today with my friend David, helping him finish his Christmas shopping, running around to stores before they closed and going home to wrap presents before he had to bring them to a Christmas Eve dinner. And tomorrow Molly and I are preparing a light Christmas lunch to eat with her mom and Yann, as well as Sly and Wilson, who are also away from their families this holiday.

Paris is marvelous, but I wish I was in Plymouth, Wisconsin. I wanted everybody at home to have a gift from me to open tonight or tomorrow--to be somehow "present," but my packages never arrived at my parents' houses, nor did theirs arrive here. So I'm reminded about what really matters, and that is just making sure that I get to talk to everybody in my family and tell them how much I love them. And tonight I'll sing "Let there be Peace on Earth" before I fall asleep...because in the grand scheme of it all, I'm extremely blessed and thankful that my life is as it is.

An Unabashed Approach

Nobody can say I'm not trying. My approach to learning French is to just keep on usin' it--no matter how wrong I might be, no matter how strangely my usage comes across. I text-message in French, I answer people in French, I try to converse in French...and I end up telling somebody (as I did yesterday) that his jacket was "too big" instead of "quite big" when I was trying to make small talk about the cold weather.

I have put all shame aside. Par example, when I returned in October and the weather was still a bit warm, I walked into the cafe and announced at the end of the bar, "Je suis chaude!" I thought I was telling my friends that I was warm...namely that the weather was so great I had worked up a minor sweat just trompsing around. Everybody's eyes grew wide, I received some strange looks, and then David and Victor burst out laughing. Apparently I was making a sexual reference about my desire for, well, nobody in particular (yes, making it that much more bizarre). Then the other day I sent a text to David about meeting up after he finished working, only to receive a phone call from him saying, "What's going on...is something wrong?" I thought my text indicated that I was waiting, when really I said I would wait no longer. Then last night I received a text from Melanie telling me to come join her for dinner at the cafe. I texted back saying that I would be on my way (I thought)...only to receive a text back which started (in English) "I think you misunderstood me..." What I wrote wrong, I'm still not even sure! Then the last straw was a text I sent today to David Henderson, an American friend who was meeting me at the Alliance Francaise after my class. I said, "Portes ton livre et on va etudier au cafe...." I wanted to tell him to bring his book so we could study at the cafe...but instead I told him to "wear his book"!

I don't know why I'm so enamoured by learning French, but I love it. I'm really not that great (although I am an admirable faker!)...and when I run into people in the building, it's probably a good thing that I have a wide smile and a friendly face, because I know my responses seldom make much sense. I'm probably known as "that girl who cannot speak French...but oh, she tries!" But maybe it's normal...in any language. Afterall, my mom told me last night that there would be "no clitter for Christmas!" (clutter/litter....c'est normale!)

The cutest Normand ever

Getting a Christmas tree in a big city like Paris, carrying it down narrow streets and up tiny winding staircases, seems like a task and a headache. But they've developed quite an admirable system to ensure that everyone who wants a real tree for the holidays can get one quite easily. There are lots all over the city--I believe each arrondissement has at least 2 lots set up, and then most floral shops sell the trees on the sidewalk (and since the floral shops are everywhere, if you're willing to pay a bit more, you can find one no more than 10 blocks from home). After you've chosen your tree, they stuff it through a big plastic funnel, forcing the branches upward, pulling it out the back into a tight plastic net. They tie the net at the top, and your entire tree is portable and compact. The other interesting aspect of Christmas trees in France is that they don't believe in watering them. They believe in trimming the trunk and allowing the sap to seal the moisture inside. They then stick it into a half-log as a stand, and "viola," no mess, no problems forgetting to water it...and supposedly it will keep until January. So far, I haven't lost a single needle. Really, not one. The only headache involved with this tree was going shopping for lights. Sam and Henderson were with me in the BHV looking through scores of boxes, wondering how a strand of lights could be so complex (not to mention expensive!). These little Christmas lights (so little you can't even really see them in the picture..although you can see the cord!) come with a surge protector larger than one you'd find for your refrigerator...and it weighs a solid 4 pounds (you think I'm joking, but I'm not). Then, the "strand" that makes up the cord of the lights is actually 9 cords wound around each other. So here you have these little lights sticking up from 9 strands of cord, and trying to make the cord look indescrete on the tree is impossible. Nevertheless, I love my tree with its ornaments from various shops and travels. Besides, I can't celebrate Christmas away from home and not have a real tree to carry me into the new year.

About time

So, right. It has been a while. The elasticity of time sometimes stretches what seems like a few days into 18. In that space of time, I started class again, had Sam Holdridge visit, we went to Amsterdam together, I've since returned to class every day and Christmas shopping and farewells to friends going back home for the holidays. All the gifts are in the mail, I have a real tree with lights and ornaments, I've discovered how to make my own peanut sauce for stir frying, and I'm reading an amazing book. Edith got me hooked on the OC (yeah, didn't think it would happen), every major street is lit up, yet we have no snow, and I might go ice skating in the next few days either at the Eiffel Tower (on the 2nd level) or at Hotel DeVille.

Today is Leah's Birthday. I am thankful that, 28 years ago, she was born. I am equally thankful that, 7 years ago, I met her.

Here are some pictures from Sam's time in Paris and our trip to Amsterdam. One word on Amsterdam: it was amazing and deserves a much larger reputation than its legalization of marijuana and prostitution. However, being in a culture/country where weed is regulated instead of outlawed is another topic of conversation in itself. Perhaps I'll revisit it another time...but right now, I just need this post to post.