so i'm behind. obvi.

so basically. i am so behind on blogging. i know. l'oops.

i also decided that to make myself feel less bad about catching up. i will choose not to focus on chronological order.

for anyone who cares. posts including my parents came first. they came the week after abby. followed by a week of jared. followed by a week on my own. and now we are here. HI.

one. the reason i am most likely choosing to blog now, is because i have a paper due. joy.

lets start with the parental units coming to paris. they arrived on wednesday morning, i went to class all day, boo, and met them for dinner. my mom, along with every tourist in paris, had her rick steves guidebook under arm. as well as 25 walks in paris. interesting point. she had recently purchased an new uber chic (czech out the multilingualism) bag. it was cross body. and teeny. ie did not hold ANY books. ie we left them numerous places. but got them all back.

while the p-unit was stationed in paris i stayed with them. duh. and we took two day trips. and i attended almost all my classes. woo. i know. so impressive.

day trip numero uno was to reims. champagne. YUM. we went on a tour of a little champagne cellar and of course tried some of their champagne. then of course my mom bought something for EVERYONE and their mom. duh. memories. we walked around the small town, guided of course, by rick steves. ate lunch, explored the ville. and trained it back to paris that night.

the next day we woke up at the CRACK of dawn. kind of. to catch our 8:01 train to bruges? brugges? whatever. the place where colin farrell did that movie "in _________". we walked all around. rick steves informed us they were famous for chocolate. then told us which ones were the best chocolate makers. i would like to know how i get that job upon graduation. "go to this city, and test all the chocolate shops, then tell us which are the top 5". we went to a microbrewery. we saw the windmills. the trip was a success.

side note: reims is in france, while brug(g)es is in belgium. i have traveled on the train between european countries several times and never needed my passport, always had it. they never check. if its within the EU i guess its lax. however. as i stated before (scroll up) i was staying avec mes parents. and i had left my passport at my house. wah. letmetellyou. where we decided to stay, and where i live. SO FAR AWAY. so night after we get back from reims i sprint home. legit. attempt to catch rer. too slow. sprint back to regular metro. meet parents like 1 hour and 45 mins later with passport. ooph.

i just keep thinking, why did i bother, they wont check. we get to belgium. passport never checked. spend whole day there. come back. halfway through train home our tickets are checked. no problemo. hold. "i need to see hayley sharfin's passport". both my parents had theirs with them in the room, it was not issue for them to bring theirs. i had to run back to get mine. MINE WAS THE ONLY ONE CHECKED. can you imagine. my name was on all the tickets cause i bought them. so they needed to see... only mine? once again i don't ask questions anymore. but like. TG i went and got it. for real.

my mom had clearly done research for her trip to paris. even though my parents had been to paris numerous times, there were always things to explore and see. and duh. rick steves was ready and willing to point them out. one was rue cler. a small street near my school that APPARENTLY is the epitome of paris (quote rick steves). who knew. and this cafe, cafe du marche, is the epicenter of rue cler. who knew. definitely not me amelia and hannah. who eat there... 3 times a week. interesting. so we went there, and my parents experienced a "true parisian street".

in addition, my mom had found a restaurant called le hide. we kept pronouncing it le heed. turns out its le hide. interesting. haha. we made a reservation at this small teeny restaurant, and here my parents met dana. please note my parents liked the place so much we went back their last night. and pretty much every email/phone call from my mom proceeded to conclude with: you and jared should go there.

regardless. it was super good. and a super good deal. and the staff was very nice. so yes. i recommend it to anyone. and yes. you need reservations.

the night we went with dana, dana and my dad ordered identically. the waitress informed us she was studying abroad in canada. in ottawa. for those you that don't know. my dad works in ottawa. cue my mom. listing of tons of things this french girl should do in ottawa. one. her first language is french. so she is probably catching half of this. two. she has no pen and paper. but its the thought that counts. she then informed us she didn't like cold. i then was confused as to why she chose ottawa. interesting.

regardless. dinner is going well. everyone is getting along. wine is good. food is good. company is good. we're chillin'. conversing with table next to us. chillin'. something smells like burn. i sniffle. comment. sniffle. that's so strange. it really smells like burn. i do a quick look around. the couple behind us has left. and one of them has effortlessly tossed their napkin on the table. onto the tea-light candle. it is now burning. AH.

i get up. i smother it. ish. it is mostly just blackened and smoking. AH. my dad jumps up to tell the man behind the bar. and french comes out.

like what. YOU ORDERED IN ENGLISH. your first language is english. in times of emergency you are to use your first language. but he does it. the bartender responds "oh, i understand" and that is that. a few minutes later, he clears the charred napkin. no rush. its all good. people, this is france. we are chill here. near fires are just that. near. no need to react.

in.ter.est.ing.

reunited and it feels so good.

first of all. abby visited my home in paris before she visited my home in lexington. just wanted to put that out there.

so if you don't know, it is extremely rare that a homestay lets you have guests over, and if they do, you're lucky. because my homestay is very laid back... no meals prepared, i basically rent a room from carmen, i assumed it would be okay.

i asked weeks in advance. tuesday before i left i bought carmen macaroons from laduree just to show my appreciation for her agreeing to let abby stay. and on saturday evening we arrived to my lovely home. carmen greeted us, met abby, and everything went supah well.

as we prepared to go out for the night, i took my comforter off the bed and used it as a mattress for myself on the floor, putting my pillow on top with a fitted sheet as a cover. it wasn't the ritz, but it worked. i gave abby my other blanket to use on the regular bed and the additional pillow. and we headed out.

we were meeting dana's friend from GW (nicole) and nicole's friend for dinner. and later michal would join us to go out. we were a little crew.

we found a bistro near school, convenient for everyone to see the eiffel tower at night. we met nicole at the metro stop, walked to the tower, took pics, and found the dinner spot.

nicole's friend was no where to be found. 30 mins later dana gets a call. she is on some street we have never heard of. standing between the tower and the river. we direct her. 20 minutes and michal shows up. still no sign of jess. interesting. FINALLY jess gets there. we are paying the bill. we have finished our wine. and she is panting. l'oops.

we talk for a bit before heading out. we discuss our trip to london, when we stayed at michal's. i mention how NO ONE told us about the different plugs. we laugh. jess looks worried.

"no one told me about the plugs... I AM GOING TO LONDON TOMORROW." wow. talk about bad luck. we pause. and burst into laughter. whatyagonnado.

we head to the metro. as we are walking the eiffel tower begins to sparkle. abby and nicole gasp. jess sighs "that is the fourth time i have seen that tonight" jess has been using a quarter of a map, and guessing where the streets go to navigate her way around. the tower sparkles once on the hour, i believe.

we hop on the metro and figure we will bring our friends to cafe oz, its safe and an easy crowd pleaser. while waiting in line we meet some british folk who we agree to help get in. i go with jess to get her a crepe so she has something in her stomach. and eventually we get in.

the british boys separate. one is fluent in french and studying at the sorbonne, the others are visiting. one will NOT leave abbs alone. like take a hint bro. he keeps calling her julie. we are not sure how that happened. he pays her admission. buys her drinks. like. cool it bucko.

we buy drinks, dance on tables, sing loudly, buy drinks. the usual.

as i go to buy me jess and abbs another round of drinks the bouncer pushes through the crowd. all of a sudden we cannot breathe. we are hacking and coughing. no words are exchanged but people are following him out. we do the same.

we get outside. its hectic. and french. i have no idea whats going on. all i can think is this is how people died in rhode island. we are getting pushed, and attempting to clear the doorway but nicole gets shoved. she hits the girl in front of her. FML.

the girl turns around. shouts, and shoves nicole hard and on PURPOSE. nicole loses it and shoves her back, screaming that she didn't push her. cue fight #1. first in shock, then reality kicks in. we pull nicole away and push her to the side, where we find a quieter place to stand. the british sorbonne boy joins us. he explains there was a gas leak. COOL.

michal lights a ciggy. thanks michal. gas leak. you light a cigarette. good thinking.

we stand around. unsure of what to do next. abby looks up, "aren't those the girls from before?" OY. yes they are. and they are coming our way. bleh.

they start running their trashy mouths in french. "we dont speak french" nicole states. "GOOD. we speak english..." oh great. yaddda yadda. trash trash. yadda. BAM.

fists are in the air. WTF. ughh. get nicole OUT OF HERE. we great a wall and push nicole towards the street we are just going to catch the bus home. abby's flat falls off as we walk. she backtracks to grab it. FIGHT NUMBER TWO.

all of a sudden abby cannot stand up. a feisty little trashy french girl has grabbed her hair and is pulling. um NO. i grab abby's hair too (not the best move, l'oops) and shout "THAT'S HERS" (not the best fighting words). i am grabbing abby's hair back, trying to push the girl away. jess see's what is happening and begins kicking the girl. GO AWAY. finally a man separates us all and we sprint to the bus.

once on board we are loud americans. l'oops. we recall the night. cannot believe what just happened. and head home. i am bbm'ing and whatsapp'ing up a storm. nothing is coherent. i am starting convos and not finishing them. i call my mom. i tell her everything. it is just too ridic. finally we get home.

we enter the house. we get quiet. we proceed upstairs. there. on my floor. carmen has made up a real bed. with a real mattress.

what more could i ask for?

amsterdam.

one, this is becoming a trend. but i am SO sorry. to my loyal following of .5.

two. AMSTERDAM.

so years ago, on march 17th. i departed from my lovely maison around 6:45 am to head to gare du nord and hope a THALYS train to amsterdam to meet abby. yayayayaya.

i got up, did not sleep a bit, headed to gare du nord. got there over an hour early. over zealous? chilled. on a bench. in the cold open air train station. waiting.

tick tick tick tick tick. the old school departure board. tick tick tick. changing every few minutes. i repeat. over an hour.

tick tick tick tick. FINALLY. my train. i head to the gate and board the train, and so the usual shenanigans begin. cue couple not speaking english. awkard look at tickets, look at seat, look at tickets, look at other seat. i know the maneuver. puh-lease. let me guess. you two THINK you booked your tickets side by side. you are seats 35 and 36, but it turns out 36 and 37 are adjacent. i am seat 37. interesting predicament. two can play this game muchacho. i read my book. reading. reading. CAVE. i can't. i feel too bad. i get up. gesture to my seat.... he speaks!

"ah, thank you so much".... come again? you speak english. and you wouldn't ask me. as i sat. reading my english book. oy. so i move. settle in my new seat. and pass out.

tap tap. mumbles in french, gestures to seat. no. no one is sitting there buddy. ALL YOU. i go back to sleep. tap tap. conductor needs my ticket. go back to sleep. an hour or so later i wake up. it is now a reasonable hour in europe and i have some emails and bbms awaiting. i begin to respond. i feel eyes on me. i turn. the business man who had asked me for my seat has his eyes GLUED on my bberry. glued.

i look up. smile. i know. so NOT french. whatever.

he is still looking. not blinking. finally. he speaks. "your hands so strong" he types harshly on a fake blackberry in the air. i laugh. unsure of how to respond. and continue. l'oops.

as the train nears amsterdam i get an email. from abby. her blackberry doesn't work. she has found a computer in baggage claim. will i be getting off at the airport or in central station.

i have no idea. announcements are in dutch, french, and english. the english is in an accent i can't quite grasp. and i know the final stop is central station but have no idea what the airport is called. FML.

we email back and forth. i try to get some information. not sure where to start. finally we figure out i can get off in the airport. i do. emails continue.

what gate are you. where will you be coming from. she cannot leave the computer to ask because she will lose contact with me. she can not walk out of baggage claim to check because there will be no other computer. predicament. i scramble to figure out where she is. finally we conclude she will exit via arrival gate 3. we decide to meet there.

final email: under no circumstances can you leave arrival gate 3 until you find me.

like duh abbs. i wait. i linger. i wait. every time the sliding doors open i perk up. nope. not abbs. FINALLY. she exits through the doors and we reunite love actually style.

we head to the center of town. find our hotel. drop bags off and embark on the beginning of what turns out to be the most junk food i have ever consumed in two days. no complaints. we walk the whole city without knowing it. up and down, weaving in and out of canals. we try french fries, waffles, anything they're selling.

over the weekend we see anne frank's house, museums, heineken factory, i am amsterdam. we see and walk it all. as we head to the train station on the last day i am run over by a bicycle. the woman assures me it was my fault. i am in complete shock, unable to speak aside from incessant apologies. abby is stunned. we catch an afternoon train back to paris. and the real fun begins...

spring time in paris.

so it is beginning to get warmer. and sunnier. and yay.

so this week marks my halfway point. gasp. i know.

for all you thinking what i am thinking... i know. i didn't think i'd make it either.

i know that this half will FLY by comparatively. AH.

on thursday i meet abby in amsterdam. saturday she comes back to paris with me. tuesday she leaves. wah.

wednesday the p-unit arrives. i stay with them a leur hotel for the week, they leave wednesday. wah.

cue saturday. i meet jared at CDG for o'sharfin eurotrip 2011. prague-vienna-paris. YAYAYAY.

sigh, he leaves on sunday. and then. it is april 11th. APRIL 11th. its already spring. i have already enrolled in courses for SENIOR YEAR. ely has already turned 21. SO MANY THINGS HAVE HAPPENED BY APRIL 11th.

with all that ahead. lets focus on the immediate past, shall we?

friday was a lazy day. and by lazy day i mean great. i did all the stuff i needed to do. read. did laundry. made study guide. watched a movie. yay.

saturday was slightly more interesting. the plan was to go to les puces with amelia and hannah. i text amelia when i get up to verify times and locations etc. change of plans. we are gonna meet at breakfast in america. YAYAYAY. the famous american diner in paris. i meet amelia at st. paul, the stop in le marais. we head over to the line. yes the line. that has formed down the block for this poppin spot. hannah calls. she is line. where are we.

we are in line.

hmmm. then it occurs to us there are two locations. l'oops. we ask for status on her line, it sounds shorter. we jump back on the metro. meet arielle at the stop. transfer. arrive at the OTHER breakfast in america. and by the time we arrive we are the next party. talkaboutconvenient.

NOT TO MENTION. this breakfast in america is located all of 20 feet away from the hotel i will be staying in with jared. yay.

we sit, the menu is everything we have hoped for and more. american diner food. egg whites. bottomless coffee. an obama milkshake (vanillla ice cream, peanut butter, chocolate sauce). sam adams is an option for beer. a signed friends poster adorns the wall. sigh.

we stuff ourselves, duh. and head to les puces, the flea market.

the flea market is the LAST STOP on the four. it is on the city periphery for sure. we arrive. it does not feel like paris. we walk. it is overwhelming. mike meets us. we wander. in and out of booths. antiques, beads, random clothes. wander wander. its misting but whatever. wander wander.

after some time we hop the metro back. i take a quick nap. and at 7:00 head over to meet dana and her parents for dinner near school.

dinner is amaze. so tasty. so cute. dana's parents are tres nice. its so nice to be around family.

after dinner i hop the bus. run run run. get ready. meet felicity and alex at the opera stop. we are heading to footsie, a stock exchange bar. amelia and hannah had mentioned they were going so why not mix crowds. we arrive. every 240 seconds the prices of drinks change based on demand. the music is good, loud, not a lot of dancing but the place is fun. amelia and hannah arrive. mike and sam arrive. rachel and a friend from home. we are a group. we stay for a bit, we sneakily aquire a table by surrounding and moving in. duh. what are groups good for. in a bit we head out and hop the metro yet again.

we head to the marais, felicity knows a bar there. we go in. i stay for a few, then find out amelia and mike have found a falafel place closing that GAVE them falafel balls. amelia agrees to help me look. mike joins.

everyone stays, the three of us head out. we stumble upon a hotdog place. order hotdogs, drinks, frites. my hotdog comes with onion strings and mayo-ketchup on it. gross. and obviously. i eat the fries. and the hotdog, leave bun onion mayo-ketchup. we make friends with the guy working there. he tells us he is a rapper. we ask him to rap. he does.

if you are thinking we have been here forever. we have. amelia and i cannot finish our fries. i get them to go. he lets us know he is performing tomorrow. we should come. kk. amelia takes the paper.

we head back.

people are ready to go. they love us. we brought fries.

we locate the nuit bus. obviously.

mike and amelia are on the same one.

me and hannah are on the same one.

parfait.

alex and fel hop the metro home and successfully make their transfer before it closes. clutch.

and there it is. one more night in paris. one of my sixty-something left. AH.

catacombs. i see dead people. then also cafe charlot.

thursday. catacomb day. woo.

thank you wikipedia:

The Catacombs of Paris or Catacombes de Paris are a famous underground ossuary in Paris, France. Located south of the former city gate, the "Barrière d'Enfer", at today's Place Denfert-Rochereau), the ossuary holds the remains of about 6 million people^[1] and fills a renovated section of caverns and tunnels that are the remains of Paris' stone mines. Opened in the late 18th century, the underground cemetery became a tourist attraction on a small scale from the early 19th century, and has been open to the public on a regular basis from 1867.

we arrive at the catacombs, no line. we head downstairs. long long spiral staircase. dark. keep walking. walk through all these tunnels every corner i keep stopping. slash baby-stepping. slash being terrified. so amelia agrees to lead the way. i have NO idea what to expect. i assume dead bodies will just be there. around the corner.

we walk. and walk. and walk. it slopes down. we go deeper and deeper underground. the ceilings get so low. and after what feels like ages. we are there. the entrance to the bones. we walk in. and at first i am in shock. so many bodies. they are all completely taken apart. walls have been created using large bones as bricks. with skulls dispersed throughout creating patterns and crosses. behind these walls of bones other bones are literally thrown. just piled up.

the catacombs were made a result of a common problem. there used to be a tendency to build cemeteries on hills. which lead to health issues with run-off and what not. cemeteries were dug up, and all the bodies were transported to the catacombs. the process was extremely long, and many body parts were lost. not that you'd be able to tell since all the bodies have been taken apart bone by bone.

the piles of bones go on forever. winding paths lead to sign after sign of different cemeteries. we take photos. touch the bones. water drips from the ceiling creating an eerie environment and fuzzy bones in some places.

we eventually exit through an endless and steep winding spiral staircase. we find ourselves in the 14th. we walk for a bit. and hop on a metro. head first to the first arrondissement then split to go home.

i shower (dead people), nap, and eventually get up to meet sophie greg fel and ben for dinner at cafe charlot in the fourth.

sophie greg felicity and i meet at the metro, ben has arrived at cafe charlot early (well, rather, he has arrived on time and we are late) and gotten a great round booth table. we arrive by 8:30, happy our ends at 9:00. parfait.

this place is know for its burgers. we order drinks. we order food. we enjoy the atmosphere. schmooze. the cafe is tres francais in decor. we then also notice it bares striking resemblance to the cafes of soho. haha.

we ultimately had burgers in soho. no big deal. we all split. ben is heading to barca in the am. i am l'tired. greg sophie and fel head to the social club for a DJ performance. concert? show? whatever a verb a DJ is associated with.

les halles. etc.

every wednesday for my glorious history of france through architecture class we field trip it up. occasionally we have a DOUBLE in class period. in which i die. 3 hrs of lectures on slides. monotone. dark. dead.

this wednesday je suis alle aux halles. is that right? if jared read my blog. he'd prob correct me. rude. like i KNOW you are basically fluent you butt, i'm trying. (not bitter over corrections sent over family email chain. not at all.) les halles is the historical market place of paris. like back in the day... all the food came in to les halles, and all the distributors bought it wholesale in les halles and then sold it to the people of paris from their stores/bodegas/carts/whatever.

interesting tid bit. it is pronounced LAY ALLS. not laysalls. like most words starting in vowels. just a tid bit. in this CASE. the s from the les does not carry over. yes i learned that in architecture class. yes the class is full of random tid bits. yes. its hard.

anyway. per usual. amelia and i meet by school then head over to the field trip destination to find lunch then meet at the destination. we wander around. find a cafe with seating in the sun. my salad comes with some home fries atop it. as well as a protein i cannot pronounce in french and have refused to look up. i am pretty sure i don't want to know what it is. i ate it. my new philosophy is if they eat i am fine. french people live for so long.

side note (promise its related): on saturday night i stayed in bed taking a personal day. catching up with bensinger. watching movies. reading. snoozing. personal day. at night dana decided it was probably healthy for me to remove the wooden panels from my windows. let light in. and get outside for dinner and fresh air. we headed over to indiana cafe, on circle over from our lovely pereire. i wanted a burger. they had them. so parfait. i order my burger. she asks how i want it done. i say medium well because i am in france. and raw is the norm. it comes. ALIVE. the burger was breathing. it was seared on the outside. the disguise of being cooked. but alive on the inside. note my new mentality above. if they do it i can. so i ate it. that was saturday. its friday. i'm alive. but you should probably all pray for me anyway. thanks in advance.

back to les halles. after lunch we head over to the church of st eustache to learn about architecture and history. duh. the class. duh.

we arrive. wanklyn. our professor. says he saw me and amelia. shouted to us. and we didnt answer. 2 hours ago. awk. we were getting lunch. more awk. we were mo def talking about him. his class is so hard WAH.

well you win some you lose some. after the church we head over to the fountain of the innocents. yes the innocents. like the cemetery of the innocents. have some culture people. as we are chilling. discussing how the fountain has been greatly modified. how one of the sides was carved by a different sculptor. how there used to be basically no water that came from it. yadda yadda. it becomes quite evident we are in the equivalent of what some may say the "paris hood". wanklyn alludes to a time when he was harassed while lecturing here and was forced to leave. he told us if this happens again our grades will reflect what we did to protect him. hi. yeah. i'll take that f. when in danger. run.

while sitting there the catacombs comes up. i say i wanna go. amelia said she tried to go, 2.5 hour wait. i say we should go tomorrow.

count it. plans made. tomorrow is catacomb day.

whoa. désolé.

so i'm sorry, i am so delayed. oopsies.

letmecatchyouup. so.

last weekend jess alyssa and flagg visited from prague. yaya. friday i was super tour guide. saturday not so much. and i apologize. but in the past. SEE YOU IN AMSTERDAM.

friday night, after our crazy amount of walking, sightseeing, and eating. duh. we hit up cafe oz. double duh. we made it a large affair. dana and i. greg sophie fel. jess, alyssa flagg. started at sophies, moved to cafe oz. somehow i ended up talking on a banana phone on the metro. and came home with some souvenir shot glasses. sorry cafe oz. the night was fun. dana and i have mastered the night bus home from cafe oz. all in all a solid night.

on our way out i happened to see my TA, ines. chillin. turns out she is a cool 21 year old girl TA, and she likes cafe oz too. not a huge deal, because i only see ines thursdays, so i didnt sweat it. walk into my oral exam on monday morning. madame thaib. ines. cool. hey. it happens.

oral exam over. architecture exam returned. eeps. and the week is cruising RIGHT ALONG.

tuesday night is mardi gras. yayaya.

greg and sophie find a bar in the republique area that is having a "new orleans style" mardi gras fête. (shout out to the internship.) we start at sophie's once again. the website informs us its free entry with costume. sophie and fel get ish done, buying feathers, masks, and colorful shoes. we get ready at sophies, head out around nine. and arrive at favela chic.

we get in free, duh, with our amazingggg costumes. dance. get drinks. dance. socialize. meet men from boston. and london. duh. dance dance. socialize. sophie and greg leave. fel and i hang outside. go back in. dance. HUNGRY.

favela chic is a bar slash restaurant slash whoknowswhat. we head over to "kitchen area" and ask for food. kitchen is closed. interesting.

this is quite the predicament.

felicity speaks french well, i am praying she can finagle this. no. no food. we keep asking. keep looking. finally she takes pity on us. hands us a plate of... bread balls. and white sauce. interesting.

we sit. they are cheesy bread balls. size of a swedish meatball. and the sauce is. i have no idea. in some crazy and glorious moment of clarity i take a lactaid pill. don't ask. but TG.

we're sitting. schmoozing with guys around us. fel asks for a bite of their chocolate cake. i am confused as to where my mask has gone. and still confused by the cheese bread ball things.

then the waiter comes. finally. no. wait. he is not offering us food. he is charging us. 23 euros. 23 euros for our plate of swedish-meatball-cheese-bread-balls. NO. LIKE no.

fel explains the woman gave them to us. he explains she didn't. we tell him to go ask. he goes to ask. we leave.

like judge me fine. but she GAVE THEM TO US OUT OF PITY PEOPLE. she was not like. here take these he will charge you in five. or here this will be 23 euros. or fine what would you like. she HANDED US PLATE OF MYSTERIOUS BREAD BALLS. and that was that. like sorry i'm not sorry. lost in translation?

by some great miracle, it is early enough to take the metro home. and the metro stop is on the 3. i separate from fel and alex (her roomie), take the metro home. turn on love actually. go to sleep. SO GOOD.

then wednesday class happened. up at nine. home at six. surprisingly successful.

yayay MARDI GRAS.