vacay.

hola.

i am on vacayyyy. will post as soon as i am back at my maison.

madrid. barcelona. london.

thursday, friday, saturday. woo.

so unfortunately. running into madame thaib on the metro was not a one-time-thing.

for the rest of the week i rode the metro with her. including thursday. why am i emphasizing thursday, jeudi, if you will? well on thursday ines teaches our class. our ta. not thaib. so WHY WAS SHE STILL ON THE METRO. oye.

thursday was fairly uneventful. i went to class, came home. freaked out because our wifi didn't work ANYWHERE. not just in my servant's quarters but like anywhere. TG for my 407 #1B living experience, i knew how to restart the wifi. count it.

thursday night we went to Rice and Beans. a mexican place in the 2nd arrondissement. it was yummy we got tacos et burritos. one flaw. no tequila. no corona. they had wine (duh.) and some beer. oye. they call themselves a mexican restaurant. whatever. it was yummy. satisfied craving. so cross that of muh list.

friday was BEAUTIFUL. like 60s. sunny. amazing. dana and i went to saint germain de pres. walked around. soaked up some rays. i took several touristy photos of the street. dana continued to walk. whoops. we stumbled upon a great cafe as well as a great little shop i'll make the madre go to upon her visit. (notice how thoughtful i am, thinking of the parental units while abroad).

friday night was cafe oz round deux. bahaha. eesh. carmen is away for le week-end (yes. that is how you say it in french. no. i am not being obnoxious). so the house is quite empty and dark. but we are managing.

we prepared ourselves for the evening and headed over to ian's for a GW-packed pre-game. ian and ava live right near the tour eiffel (cue touristy shots round deux). one i took was just plain pretty, the tower at nuit. the other fab shot i got was the crazy light-up show it does.... on the hour.

ian and ava also live near, and by near i mean across the street from the AUP libe. but i have never been to the AUP libe. so that doesn't really help me with a frame of reference. perhaps it will help you?

anyway we depart from ian and ava's post a quick run to a bodega for some additional drank. we cab it to cafe oz. get out. line again. totes worth it. moves fast. all of us are in. once again super fun. once again we meet craycray french people when getting breathers outside.

circa 3 AM dana and i decide we need some food, duh, and then we need to find the night bus. so we find a food stand. word. directly across the street from cafe oz slash supah packed. so why not. we get in line.

THIS IS WHEN STUFF GETS WEIRD.

dana is wearing an uber fashionable crop top compliments of H & M. and this french man strokes her stomach. strokes. i look at him, slightly wastey-faced and go. RUDE.

we leave, walk right outside food stand, and wait for creeper mccreepstein to leave. 10 mins pass (most likely 3, but it felt like an eternity). get back in line. THERE HE IS AGAIN. strokes it again. this prompts me to say, once again. YOU'RE RUDE. dana tweets that her stomach has been caressed. and i push to the OTHER side of the line. girls on a mission, duh.

we chat, pick what we want, chat. people exclaim "you're from america" i respond. yes. yadda yadda. and we're up. i order: un sandwich poulet sans fromage. dana gets a nutella crepe. clutch.

my sandwich comes out. pita wrap thingy, poulet, fries, i am not complaining. i bite into it. I AM COMPLAINING. there is hot sauce on my poulet. like i am a fan of hot sauce. but not right now. wah. what an awful slash miserable slash unwanted surprise.

i give the sandwich to some boy we are standing with and am left holding a cone of a few fries and some shreds of poulet. l'epic fail.

onward. we march on to the bus stop. i ask these girls sitting there if they are waiting for the neuf deux. the nine two. yes in french that means nothing. AND. we were looking for the n16, the night bus #16. the bus #92 is the regular bus dana and i take. l'oops.

the girls understood. dana sits. i stand. we wait. the bus comes eventually. we hop on. home. i bbm everyone i know asking for water. ely tells me she'll order me some. jean says she'll send me some. i have such accommodating friends. don't worry guys. i got some. and some special k. obvs.

we get home circa 4:30. sleep til 12. it was rainy today in paris. GASP.

special note: i would like to take this time to admit to an addiction i have. i will attempt to stop purchasing special k as of this week. (that's a lie.) but i am aware that i have a problem. first step. id the issue: special k.

additionally. tonight is a jam-packed night of. drumroll please. hdubbs and the departed. joys. while i basically don't go to school here. this week i have two tests. not. fair.

OH EM GEE.

how did i forget.

this news is not just a quick edit to a previous post or tack-on.

carmen made a crumble aux pommes et framboises. for all you ne parlez pas francais. that is a CRUMBLE with APPLES and RASPBERRIES.

so at first. i was peeking at it. as it cooled on the balcony outside the kitchen. then i admired the huge bowl of sugar and cherries just chillin' becoming jam. then i ate my dinner. still admiring both.

then carmen came in. i asked what the occasion was. she replied. no occasion. she just made it.

i like her, duh.

then she asked if i wanted any. no, merci. i'm fine. okay, she replied. and took the crumble with her. time passes, i come down to book my tickets to amsterdam. read emails. catch up on FB.

carmen comes back with the crumble. i keep working. i look up. there she is. a little bowl of crumble in hand and a spoon.

if you don't like it. si je ne aime pas. you don't have to eat it.

what a great homestay mommy. shout out to carmen. you're the bomb.com.

ps. i loved it. duh. SO GOOD. gahhh.

spring time in paris. sort of.

kind of.

a brief glimse if you will. on monday it was sunny and gorg in paris. i am not good with temperature guesses, but i wore a blazer and scarf so you can figure that out.

anyway, monday started off... less than spectacular. on my metro ride i was chillin' as normal. listening to some jams. regina specktor BEGIN TO HOPE... if you are curious. if you want to be in the moment with me so to speak. haha.

so chilling. make my transfer. get on new train. chilling. arrive at my stop. step off train. my chill morning is interrupted. an impostor. madame thaib. yes. you recognize the name. my french teacher. OYE.

she starts parle-ing avec moi in french of course. how was my weekend. what did i do. i answer in broken french slash frenglish. like whatever. mi ami lauren. visite du barcelona. (broken french... bleh bleh) ehhh (more broken french blehhh). as we get up the escalator i have now become aware that she spent her weekend at bookfair. she is amazed i walked all around paris in my ballet flats. she broke her foot last year and has to wear orthopedic shoes (did not catch this french word but she pointed at her black less-than-chic sneaks). ahh. oui oui. wellllll. then i tried to work some french magic. il faut aller a la banque.

and i'm free. i tranverser la rue and fake go to the atm. no i am not proud i fake atm'd. i am proud i escaped. so you win some you lose some. listen people, before you judge. in case you FORGOT. monday is double period french. so i did what i HAD to do. mmkay?

whatever. nbd. 8 kids show up to my french class of approx 20. fml. so we are sitting. period one goes by painfully slow. then as the break is about to occur a moment of complete and utter shock occurs throughout the room.

madame thaib: i think for the next period we should all get lunch together.

shock factors. one. it was said in english. two. she suggested we ultimately skip class. three. the activity included food.

um okay. so we all meet up at the restaurant right outside the metro. a few additional people stroll in for period two. and we enjoy a nice lunch. i speak in english. oops. and i discuss amsterdam plans with two girls that just got back. all in all a success. then we all peace out. good second period.

after french i decide to be noble and take advantage of the weather. so i opt to WALK HOME. i am going to make myself sound impressive, unless you know how the arrondissements work. in which case i am less impressive. BUT. i live in the 17th district or arrondissement. my school is in the 7th. yeah i walked it.

so in reality. i walk from the seventh, across the bridge, through the 8th, and arrive in the 17th, but it sounnnnddds like i walked 10 districts home. eh?

anyway, the walk isn't THAT short, it is hefty. made even heftier by me getting l'lost. like OOPS. when i got the l'arch i was tres confused as to which one of the million rues jutting from the circle was the one i needed. oye. def took out my map. def looked like a tourist. def got home over an hour later. oops.

i got home. went to monoprix. met marlyse in park. gym'd. and made dinner. overall success if i do say so myself.

listen people. one day at a time.

yesterday i walked home.

today i booked tickets to and from amsterdam to meet abbs.

tomorrow i will do laundry.

BIG THINGS ARE HAPPENING on this side of the atlantic. watch out.

cafe oz.

after our tres french dinners, while content may have been questionable we ate at 10:00 so timing was tres francais. dana and i decide, since we economically ate at home, we can spend the 5 euros each for a cab to the bar, considering it was 12:15 and we hadn't left yet. we find a cab in our circle and hop in. i had heard about cafe oz from kids in my cours du francais. and we had seen it on the cab ride home friday night and it was poppin'.

cue cab ride to cafe oz.

you girls speak french? un peu. i speak a little english. where are you two going? dana answers, he makes some comment. asks us what we are doing in paris. i explain i am an artist. did i mention we had wine? dana lets him know i am not. whatever. its an interpretative term, artist.

he asks us if we have had hasheesh. we ask him what? he tells us you smoke it, it makes all the young people smile. don't smoke it. okay, noted. he asks us if we the cocaine. dana laughs out loud. no we don't do the cocaine. but why he asks. he says it is very strong and very expensive. yes mister cab driver. all of the above is correct. 12 euros later we are at the bar. he notices the long line and tells us we have made a good decision. okay whatever. thank you for the ride. peace out.

the line was tres long. dana and i wait. trading spots in line as the other explores. stephanie and lauren arrive, join us in line. we wait two more mins. this guy approaches me and asks if we will go in with them, it is hard for men alone to get it. DUH. i am always one to help. we cut our way ahead a few. woo. we get to the front. we are id'd. duh. then they send dana in. and she comes back with tickets. meanwhile. the two men that we are getting in think i am nuts. oops. whatever.

once in the bar. it is so fun. loud. lots of scottish rugby players. lots of american music. lots of people. lots of fun. we stepped out for a breather circa 1:45 am. cue john.

john starts talking to us. asks us where we are from. chattin up a storm. we introduce ourselves. yadda yadda. bye john we head back in.

around 2:30 we decide to leave. we head out. meet some british folk on the street. walk walk. find laur and steph a cab. walk walk no cabs. tons of people waiting. no cabs. no cabs. no late night food open. no happy hayley and dana. we walk. walllllk. walk to le marais.

like NOTHING. we pass like a gazillion night buses but neither of us know how they work. they are a mysterious beast. they are all over the city, but way different routes than the normal buses, which dana and i also know nothing about so. like. hmmm interesting.

no cabs. wah. i am texting and bbm'ing people. they probably think i am on the verge of death and or being taken. maybe cause i told them that. oops.

finally a bus with a familiar term sprawled across the top. the last metro stop on our line is flashing across the front. we get on. approximately 40 minutes later we arrive home. head inside. grab some special k. and get in bed.

our total journey home took approximately over an hour. but hey. we made it.

l'week-end.

thursday night dana, marlyse, and i tried willi's wine bar. tres yummy. wine was good. meh expensive and won't be doing that again. while i recognize that spending money on experiences is a good use of my funds, that was a one time thing, and i'd rather eat at small cafes and experience more on my travels. so check that off the list. the food was good, company was good, wine was good. yay.

after the wine bar the three of us split, marlyse was en route to meet french friends, dana some gw kids at aup, and me some cornell kids including some visiting from rome. hopped on le metro post wine-bar. oye. i got there, but it took some time, and several times walking around the same circle looking for the rue i needed. when i arrived at baxo bar everyone was ready to head home or move on. so we hopped BACK on the metro, when i soon realized maybs i should ride this home considering manch was coming to visit tomorrow, AND avoid paying for a cab. so i did. wooo success. so economical.

got home. special k. fell asleep to movie in bed.

friday was a day of checking things off lists. lauren and her friends from barca arrived with a list of places to go and see. we knocked what dana and i had done in weeks in paris off in a matter of half a day, made it home for siesta and reconvened at the sacre coeur circa 20:00, or for those of you in the united states... 8:00 pm.

the church was GORGEOUS. on top of montmartre. you can see all of paris. absolutely gorgeous. the hike up the gazillions of stairs only to realize a tram exists that can take you from the metro up to the church was less than glam, but hey. you win some you lose some.

we took pictures, enjoyed the view, and headed to the latin quarter for dinner. the latin quarter was poppin' full of people and restaurants, we ate the usual parisian 3-hour meal and made our way to rue de lappe to enjoy some hipster-esque bar scene and sip sangria in the que pasa bar. i know i know. my friends visit from spain, and we go to que pasa. what.ever. oops.

btdubbs. nevah. in my life. have i been id'd as hard as i was at que pasa. i mean for one. the drinking age is 18. secondly. it was my real id. which is a rare occasion. again. i don't pretend to understand.

saturday was more lax. girls from barcelona visted notre dame and musee d'orsay. dana and i snoozed, made breakfast. headed to marais to meet them. of course i introduced dana to all my great food spots en le marais. and we walked around, in and out of boutiques, headed to gallery lafayette. bought wine for dinner. and it was nap time again.

in true french style, i had some baguette, some camembert, and some special k for dinnah. dana made thai chicken with rice noodles. and special k. are you noticing a trend?

the wine we got was good despite the the sommelier being a sommel-jerk. he was like. i don't understand what you want. i felt like saying. then you are no good at your job mister. tres rude. but the wine was tasty. so we win. count it. 1 for team dana and hayley. 0 for evil sommelier.

la culture.

today was a day of cultural exploration.

i had french class in the am. duh. then i had a break from 12 to 1:30, until amelia finished class and we could grab lunch before our field trip. duh i spent it in starbucks. this time ordering in french. and asking the barista how to say "that's all." c'est bon. cafe de la semaine in hand, i sat and did the crossword and looked up directions. success.

the history of france through architecture meets every tuesday for the usual 1 h 20 m block, and then on wednesdays for a double period outside the classroom. last week was notre dame. this week was musee carnavalet, in the marais. amelia and i decided to grab lunch in the marais this time, then just wander until 3:45 when the class begins.

amelia had heard of this falafel places in the marais, from a boy in ROME, while visiting a friend last weekend. i mean it is internationally known, so we google'd. it quickly became evident this was lenny kravitz's fave spot. i mean if its good enough for lenny. so tuesday in class we decided to give it a try.

UM. if you are visiting me, which some of you are. we are going. L'As du Fallafel. YUM. lenny's pic is on the outside, you can order in the window or sit inside, it is supah fast. and SO tasty. we got the vegeterian special. DUH, what they are known for. so good. mmmm.

http://travel.nytimes.com/2006/12/31/travel/31bite.html

read about it. come visit me. i'll go with you.

after we finished we wandered, headed over to BHV. yes you are remembering correctly. yes i have been here. this is where i bought my beloved portfolios. as i mentioned this is a one-stop-shop, and amelia needed to copy her bathroom key per her landlords request. 5 mins and 3.50 euros later we had two bathroom keys and we were off. next stop. numerous shoe stores. so many. the marais was a breath of fresh air. stores i could afford. tres exciting. the glam of paris fashion quickly wears off and zara and h & m quickly become old news, so these cheaper boutiques were much needed. we window shopped, browsing briefly en route to the musee. we real shopped in a boulangerie, where i practiced my french. pointing at some shortbread looking cookie and saying quest-ce que c'est? shortbread et chocolat. sounds good. took one of those, amelia snagged a pain au choclat. cue le balance that i asked carmen for. heheh.

then the musee happened, lovely former private residence, now museum of history of paris. once again my prof proved to be a plethora of historical and architectural knowledge. wowza. notes were taken, knowledge was gained.

back to shoe stores. we stopped in two. amelia purchased tres chic ballet flats, and some cute lace-up jazz-esque flats. i purchased some lace-up jazz-esque flats.... i guess flats are all dancing themed these days. over all success, 15 euro purchase and some french style points.

tomorrow's plans inlcude french class, musee d'orsay, and le BHV round trois. tomorrow evening dana, marlyse, and i have reservations at willi's wine bar. a wine bar near the louvre. ryan seacrest was spotted there. if its good enough for ryan... jk. only works with lenny. i couldn't care less about ryan's taste in wine bars. oye.

overall cultural success. another day. another ounce of french culture absorbed. i'm on my wayyy.

today is special.

today gets a post all its own. here goes:

the day started with the need to purchase a navigo pass pour le mois. i get to the metro stop, per usual, and find the navigo reload station. first three tries i am denied. i cannot tell you why, because the error message was in french, but i was SO denied that i could not even push buttons. just denied.

fourth try is the charm. woo. so i place my navigo on the reload pad. scan through options. purchase a pass for the month for zones 1 and 2. 60.40 euros later (sorry m and d) i am mobile.

time to enter metro. cue awkward american carrying portfolio round deux. today is drawing class. my one day a week where i sit for 3 hours and draw. channel my inner artist. whatever.

now that i own a portfolio, i carry my art in it. duh. so i am swiping my newly charged navigo pass, and i cannot figure out how to get through the turnstile. oye. i did this once before, with TWO of these. i am confused, and needless to say, people around me can tell. an awkward 1.2 mins later i am through, and so is the portfolio. as i smooth my jacket down, re-adjust my bag, and gather my pride, i walk to the train. whatever. its not like its a secret i am not from here.

so i travel to school, one transfer and several metro stops later i get off. TG when you exit it is regular doors. go up the escalator. daylight. as i do my usual routine, i cannot make my portfolio less awkward. in case you are wondering the thing is huge, something like 53 cm by 47 cm. like big. i made those numbers up, but its large and in charge. and no handle. just a large, over-sized folder-esque thing under my arm.

as i do the usual, stop in franprix i get my ONE DEAL IN PARIS. my 150 cL of water for .21 euros. i am not sure how this happened, or why it is so cheap. but i don't ask questions. every day, monday through thursday, i just buy one. and walk to class.

i am going to fast forward now, because the next 1.5 hours are spent in french 125 A. and no one needs to hear about that. slash meh. i am not discussing it. haha.

DRAWING CLASS. so dana is running late, which i gather from bbms i have received during french class. hannah and i walk to class, making a quick stop in a boulangerie where i get un sandwich avec jambon et salade, sans fromage. word. yes i have expanded upon the original sandwich.

get to class. attempt to prepare myself mentally for the nude model but as i make my way up the steps to the studio. THERE HE IS. naked. just walking, hanging around (haven't decided if the pun is intended yet....) like whoa. frantically bbm dad, dana, everyone. like NAKED. so naked.

i am usually SO mature, i swear. but this is weird. luckily the first pose his back is to us. like TG she eased us in. this twenty-something dancer only speaks french, so the teacher converses with him. 45 minutes later. break time. break is over. he gets back into same position, 15 more minutes. TG i survived.

did i mention drawing is double block. oye. 3 total hours. so one hour down. next pose. 30 minutes. full frontal. just standing. chillin'. gah. needless to say, my second piece was lacking some major organs. like kill me. whatever.

next pose. 30 minutes. sitting in chair. sprawled out. full frontal. once again. missing some key organs. once again. kill me. like i tried.

next pose a series of several short poses, some i cannot even describe. remember. he is a dancer. GAH.

i survived, barely. post studio time i sprinted to starbucks to get a coffee and regain my composure. ran back to get to history of france through architecture. obviously spilled coffee on my sweater. THEY FILL THE CUPS SO HIGH because people in france believe solely in black coffee. once again, i am not from here. its no secret. give me room for my demi-creme. gah.

once that class was over i successfully made it home, stopped at monoprix fro some necessities. gym'd and made dinner.

the real winning moment of the day was my french conversation i had with carmen, my house mom.

me: ou est-ce que vous achetez un "scale"?

carmen: ah, un balance. i have, you can borrow. you can say: ou pouvez-vous acheter un balance?

mind you, carmen doesn't think she speaks english well. bahhh. okay carmen.

then we discussed why i needed the scale, she asked if i was trying to lose weight, i explained i was trying not to gain weight. cue daily baguettes, croissants, and pain au chocolat. oye.

she laughed, taught me how to say that in french, which i won't even try to type here now.

REGARDLESS. i spoke french, and was understood. yayaya. go me.

next step: l'accent.