Michelle In Paris

No Turning Back

2009-07-12T00:05:00.004+02:00

Almost a year ago, I boarded a plane for China. 7 months ago, on December 12th, I returned home to NJ, only to leave again less than 3 weeks after my arrival.

It is now 12:07 am on July 12th. In 10 hours, I will be on a place bounds towards home and my year-abroad will be over.

I never thought my year-abroad would have been as amazing as it has been. I have lived a truly wonderful year, and I am happy I was able to share it with you. Thank you for encouraging my stories and leaving comments that sometimes made me laugh so hard, I would cry. This blog (and my China one) will stay on-line, but will no longer be updated. Who knows where the next adventure will take me - but all I know is that this ride is just getting started.

A Metaphor, in the shape of a Melon

2009-07-10T14:16:00.000+02:00

In 50 years I will remember my host family. I am sure of that. I'm not sure if I'll remember that Madame only wears blue mascara or that Priscilla isn't allowed to go out on Friday nights...but I am confident to say that I will always remember that they eat fruit with a knife and fork.

When people ask me what I got out of this semester I say that I can now peal a pear with a fork and knife. It's a life-skill, you know, though I feel like if I do that at home, my parents would take the pear away from me. Heck, even if it did that at a dinner party, people would stare. And then probably take the pear away from me.

With 2 days left, I look back at my time here and try to figure out what I've accomplished. Paris 7 was on strike; Madame said my French is better, but hey...it was never THAT BAD; I now have an obession with fur vests. It's not as clear this semester all that I have accomplished, unlike last semester.

The only "new skill" I picked up is eating fruit with a fork and knife.

I'll take it.

Last night I had a little good-bye dinner at the apartment. Just me, Monsieur and Madame 'cause Priscilla is in London, the sons had a dinner party and Lara had wedding preparations. It was going fine until Madame put a melon down in front of me.

At home, I'd just pick it up. Here...not so much. And because the conversation was focusing on "their friends, the Rothschilds", I figured I shouldn't dribble melon juice on my dress. So while I pathetically stabbed at the melon, Monsieur and Madame were cutting their with ease and elegance. Madame got up to get the next course, and in a moment of benevolence, Monsieur took the melon and cut it for me.

"I know you can do this yourself...but it'll be easier if I just do it for you"
"...thanks..."
"No, really, you've come a long way, think of what would've happened if we gave you a melon on the first night"

And it's true.

I have come a long way.

Not now Chief, I'm in the fuckin' zone

2009-07-07T20:37:00.005+02:00

When people ask me if I'm ready to go home, the answer is YES (in all caps), then me saying "AMERICA, FUCK YEAHHH!" (also in caps), then followed by a fist pump (I am from NJ after all).

And it's true. I am ready to go home, I do love America, and I love NJ more and more by the day.

Will I be sad to leave Paris? DUH. But it's time.

Some things I am looking forward to seeing (in order the pictures loaded):
My caahhhh!

RILLLEEEEYYYY!!! (...maybe, just maybe, Heather et al too...)
My parents/home/taxidermy monkey

...a few things on the list...

LESS THAN A WEEK!

ps - 10 points to whomever can tell me where the blog post title comes from....

Be a Good American!

2009-07-04T20:15:00.001+02:00

So this morning I picked up Caralie from the airport, bright and early.

Caralie got to experience the joy of a metro strike (TRIPLED!! the time it took to get home), had her first bites of Japanese food, did a 3 hour walk and went to dinner with all of my friends this evening (she came in from Boston at 7 am, btw)...none of those things, however, is as exciting as something else she got to do:

SHE WITNESSED ME DOING A GOOD DEED.

I know, shocking.

When we got on the monorail at CDG, there was an American lady on it with us, who started to ask a whole bunch of questions: Where are you going, what side of the bank are you on, etc etc. I finally got annoyed and was just like, I live here.

Her eyes lit up.

Oh shit.

Basically, the problem was that she had her friend's eurail pass, but was going on to Krakow in 3 hours (and couldn't get into Paris) and was unable to pass it along. So she asked me to go to their hotel and drop it off.

I was a nice person (and because it's the 4th of July); I decided to help out another American.

The kicker however was her repeating:
"Just be a good American, ok?" "Just bring it to the hotel" "I'm trusting you" "Just be a good American."

Yo, lady, I get it. If you don't trust me, don't give me the damn pass!!!

I smiled politely and offered her my cell number, as a peace of mind and told her I would glady HAUL MY ASS ACROSS TOWN and drop off the pass.

Which I did, after dropping Caralie off at the apartment.

So, dear readers, I have done my one good deed for the year. That's it. Next time I see all of you I am going to be mean, 'cause this one good thing will cancel out every other bad thing I might do.

HA. GOOD KARMA FOR MICHIIIEEEE!!!!!!!!

In other news, I have spent three 4th of July's in France. Aka, over 10% of my lifetime's 4th of July's.

In other, other news, 8 days!!

Moommmyyyy, Do you Looooove meeeee??

2009-06-27T12:35:00.003+02:00

I enjoy placing the blame on other people.

Michelle!
What?
Did you eat just the caramel out of the ice cream???
NOOO. Dad did it!!!

Michelle!
Yeaaaa?
Did you eat the rest of the portugese pastries?
Nope, definitely Mom.

Of course, I like placing the blame on people even when it doesn't involve food, too.

Which I why today I am blaming 3 different parties: Eva Levy, my carte bleue and my parents. In that order.

Eva, who has the best taste of anyone I know (even if it is a bit questionable at times), really likes (liked?) the designer Erotokritos. Several years ago, she came bearing a skirt from that line for me, as a gift. I liked the skirt but didn't think anything of it.

Here is where the problem lies:
Wednesday started the first day of sales, here in Paris. Sales are a BIG THING. It is the only time (well, twice during the year) that stores are allowed to unload stuff at near-loss prices. This obviously is my favorite time of the year.

Prior to the sales starting, I could count the amount of material things I purchased on 2 hands:
2 Petit Bateau Shirts
A pair of Espadrilles
Louis Vuitton Bag
Dior wallet (passport wallet)
Leather wallet (everyday)
A pair of gladiator sandals
H&M skirt

(and I also purchased a pair of jeans and a winter coat in Cologne).

THAT'S IT!

So when the sales started on Wednesday, I just thought I'd go to look.

FAIL.

I was at Galleries Lafayette, just to see what was going on. And I happened to past the Erotokritos line. And I tried on a dress. And fell in love.

Amusingly enough, I hate shopping. Mainly because I am a) really self-conscious about how I look (in general) and b) everything I like normally costs 800 euros.

So, when I tried on this dress, the starts aligned and I LOVED IT (and looked good in it too, obvi). I decided right there to purchase it. For those who know me, I don't shell out big money on anything. (Minus foie gras.) Now, the dress was way over 300 euros full price. Thanks to the sales, I bought it for around 150.

It's just been a slippery slope from there...I spent the last 2 hours at Le Bon Marche, looking at more Erotokristos dresses. Luckily, I held out and decided not to purchase another dress (not today, anyway), but came out of there with a brand new pair of Joe's Jeans for 40 euro! They'd be that much 2nd hand at home! Lots of exclamation points!

Part I: I blame Eva for introducing me to Erotokritos.

Part II: I blame my debit card for letting me make these purchases. Prior to the debit card, I just carried around cash. And because I don't carry around a ton of cash, I never made big purchases.

Part III: I blame my parents for not footing my shopping habit.

Part IV: Shameless plug: Go to Disco Noir , Eva's handbag line.

Part V: 13 more days!

Stuffed Animals!

2009-06-21T17:29:00.003+02:00

The list of things I love is not too extensive, and can be broken into 3 categories: food, animals, and people. Yes, that's in the right order.

The animal category has 2 sub-sections: alive and dead.

My confession? I love taxidermy.

It goes beyond that though: I really, really love taxidermy.

Tell your friends, if anyone has extra taxidermy they no longer want, I'll be more than happy to take my truck and pick it up. Priorities go to people who no longer want their full size animals. It's an obsession, and an expensive one at that.

This love of mine can be directly traced to my mother. For someone reason, the lady who really dislikes the outdoors has a soft-spot for taxidermied animals.

Our collection started at St. Ouen, the main flea market in Paris. I think I was around 15 at the time and my mother made me bargain (in French!) for the animal who is now known as "Richard".

Sadly, I don't have any pictures of Richard on my computer, but for those of you who have not had the pleasure of using our downstairs bathroom, Richard is the (taxidermy) monkey who holds the toilet paper. He is small (no larger than 2 feet tall), and is just at the right height to make men feel self-conscious. Please, where else would you put a taxidermy monkey?

Later, Carlos (the deer) joined Richard, as well as the fake cat (not taxidermy, but more than plush). Our cleaning ladies love us.

Every weekend, I go to the St. Ouen flea market. I look for vintage handbags, fur vests and taxidermy. I succeed weekly in finding all of these things, but only seem to come home with handbags. Fitting a full cougar in my luggage and not declaring it is just asking for trouble, I know.

But today, today was going to be different. After my weekly call to my parents (the "Hey, Mom, Guess where I am?!" phone-call), I found the perfect taxidermy turtle: the size of a small puppy, with the most beautiful glass eyes. He was going to be a gift to my mother, but I'd re-claim him for my first appartment. Sadly, Mr. Turtle was not held together too well...while my love for taxidermy still stays strong, my love of formadehylde has started to waver...

ICK.

"Remplir"

2009-06-19T20:58:00.002+02:00

Today I used the word "remplir" in a sentence. I've never used this word before in my life, but while I was talking to the ladies in the Communication Department, it just came out of my mouth. It was the right word, not like I used "bitchass" for "network", but at the end of the conversation I was just like, "Hmm...maybe I'm getting it."

One of the Communication ladies wears this amazing perfume; I just want to stand next to her and breathe deeply. Good thing I'm not that awkward (yet).

The salad bar at work is awesome (grounds to move, H).

Other than that, excitement comes in the form of sushi dinners (thanks again, Ann!!) and finding Madame locked outside of the house. I guess it's a trait in that family; the amount of times I've let someone in because they forgot their keys is insane. Take the following conversation that happened about 2 months ago:

(11 pm, weekday)
*I'm sitting at my desk and hear the interphone ring and try to ignore it, as I thought other people were home. After 5 minutes of constant ringing, I decide I should pick it up*
Me: Allo?
Monsieur: 5 minutes, Michelle? Vraiment?
Me: Uhhh...*buzzes him in*

Monsieur: (in English) Can I borrow your keys?
Me: Uhhh...
Monsieur: (still in English) you see, I am very forgetful sometimes. Just like my wife.
Me: 'k.
Monsieur: (even more English) I'll be back soon!

(12.45 am)
Monsieur: Merciii! *gives me my keys*
Me: Uhhh....

There are times when you just don't ask questions. This was one of those times. And yes, sometimes Monsieur just likes to break out the English. It's indiscriminatory, but when he's on a roll, good luck stopping him.

(...3 weeks and counting...)

And You Never Once Repeated an Outfit...Or Gave Me a Detention

2009-06-15T22:51:00.002+02:00

When I started blogging this year I did it for one main reason: to keep in touch with everyone who I thought might be interested in my goings-on. It was also a hell of a lot easier to update a blog bi-weekly than to write a whole bunch of emails.

With that in mind, I sent out my first link to my Beijing Blog to a variety of people: friends, family, people-who-might-as-well-be-family, and even a few teachers from the Millburn district who I have kept in touch with over the years.

While I will still be blogging up to my departure (less than a month and counting!), I will be down one reader in a matter of days. And I can't let this reader slip away un-thanked...

So this entry is dedicated to Dr. Schaeffler, my 7th grade French teacher, whose advice and (at times, daily) banter got me through 2 continents, a language plateau, sticky situations at the homestay, and (most importantly) is the reason why I continue to study French.

Gold Star for Dr. Schaeffler!

Just Look for the one with the Peach Drapes

2009-06-14T12:34:00.010+02:00

Being that none of you really know where I live in Paris, this is the street:

(I have black'd out all the important bits...aka, the actual number of the house...and my e-mail/skype address..)

It is the equivalent of Park Avenue, in New York City. I could’ve done a lot worse, I know.

Take 1:

Last weekend when Amberle was here, we played a game called “Chase Obama”. It was frustrating, if not fun, because I had to go to the bathroom for an hour of that game. Public toilets in Paris are a no go, trust me on that. So, during this game, we chased President Obama’s motorcade across Paris…as in, hanging out at the Hotel Crillon for an hour to see if we could get a view of him (which we didn’t). Eventually, I gave up and my need to get back to the apartment was great, so Amberle and I headed back home. As we headed back home, we saw a whole bunch of blocked off streets – one of which being the street on where I live.

Right here, at the intersection, was a whole bunch of people. We knew Obama was close because there was a huge American flag. And a whole bunch of people were saying “Obama”. I might have my moments, but I can put 2 and 2 together.

So I gave Amberle my keys so I can use the facilites above and she can stalk him out on the street. Eventually, I manage to get back down to the street, where we wait an additional 15 minutes in this spot.

All of a sudden we hear the roar of the crowd and a motorcade advances, then stops. Then, like lightening, we hear the swoosh of cars going 80 miles an hour in the opposite direction. As in, exactly where our back were turned. We were actually staring at the decoy cars – not the actual Presidential motorcade. FML.

But anyway, this was big ‘cause it meant that we were, as I liked to say, in shooting distance of Obama (joke! Joke! Joke!), but also, because I live on a really well-traffic’d street. At midnight it wasn’t a big deal, but it’s kinda like closing down Millburn Avenue in the middle of the day – not impossible to circumambulate but it’s a pain in the ass.

Take 2:

Friday morning I put on high heels to go to work, something that I never, ever do. I left the apartment a bit later than normal, in order to pick up my debit card at the bank, which opens at 9. (Yes, dear reader, I have my own French bank account – an experience I will detail in a future post.) I leave the apartment and realize that my street, which ALWAYS has cars on it during rush hour, is mysteriously quiet. I cross the street, to get on the side with the bank, and all of a sudden, I hear someone screaming at me in French, “Get Back!” This someone happened to be a military man with a gun the size of 10 baguettes strapped across his chest. OK, I can listen to directions.

All of a sudden a whole bunch of policemen surround me.

“What are you doing here?”

“How did you get on this street?”

I managed to stammer out “I live here” and then promptly get REALLY nervous because I don’t actually have proper residency cards and have no proof that I actually live where I do, minus my set of keys.

They nod, and I go to the bank (without asking why my street was cordoned off). I get my debit card (woo-hoooo!) and head back to the apartment to change my shoes. (I promptly realized that high heels were just not going to fly, being that I had to walk to the bus stop at the end of the street, instead of the one that’s right next to the bank.) All the while, I’m thinking that maybe Obama is still in Paris and maybe he is just purposely trying to ruin my everyday life. (Yes, the world DOES revolve around me.)

So I head back to my building…to be stopped again by the police officer telling me that I can’t get into my building…Great. This is when I started to whine: “Mais, J’haaaabiiittteeee iciiiiiiiiii.”

If there is one way to accentuate my American accent, it is to whine, as I found out. Note to self: stop whining.

However, I did manage to find out that there is a film being shot on this street for the next week.

Cool.

Moral of the story: Filling out housing questionaries really, really specifically is a good idea.

Best Card Ever

2009-06-09T23:58:00.004+02:00

...excuse me while I grab some more Kleenex...

Number Game

2009-06-09T00:02:00.002+02:00

7.5 hours 'til I wake up for work

1 month, 3 days 'til I'm back in America

5 months since I was on American soil (minus those 3 days)

15 hours since I said bye to Amberle

4 days since I saw Madame

15 hours since I saw Monsieur

9 days since I saw Lara

7 days since I saw Priscilla

72 hours since I saw Obama ("saw" is used loosely, btw, more like "sped past me")

21 years on Earth.

(Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee)

Just a Wall...

2009-06-02T21:48:00.004+02:00

Just moved. And even though I will see the homestay fam every now and then...I am officially "on my own". (Or as on my own as I can be...I closed the door that leads into the apt, and Madame re-opened it and handed me 2 rolls of TP, reminding me that I didn't have any in my new bathroom). My new digs are directly connected to the apt...but only they can get in to my room...I can't get into the apt.

It's weird and sad and I will miss them more than I ever thought I would. And it hasn't even been 5 minutes yet...

:(

I got confused between Nottingham and Knotting Hill. Is that bad?

2009-05-31T15:38:00.005+02:00

This is where I was on Wednesday.

Note: Actually, I was there, on Wednesday morning and then at night. But if you look to the left of the picture, you'll get a clue to where I was.

Give up? Loser. The answer: London!

Why London, you might ask? Well, the reason is simple:

EEEEMMMMIIILLLLYYYYYYYY!!!!!

That's right, I got to see a Emily last week! YAYAYAYAY! (For those whose memories don't go that far back, Emily and I were in Beijing together.)

The first thing we did was go to Harrod's. That's right, we have our priorities straight. Aren't the puppies so cute?!

We also went to Buckingham Palace.

Trafalgar Square.

Big Ben

Westminster Abbey.

But mainly, the object of the trip was to eat. Let's be real, it's us you are talking about...so we had Wagamama for lunch, ice cream as a mid-day snack, and then sushi (from a conveyor-belt place, of course!) for dinner.

And the winning picture of the day...

Us with our ridiculously expensive, but delicious ice creams at Harrod's ice cream bar. Aren't we so good-looking?!?!

(Actually, there is a story behind that: Both Emily and I don't take the most amazing of pictures...so we give the camera to the ice cream bar guy and he takes the photo and kinda goes "wow". And I'm already like, oh shit, I probably have 10 chins and Emily's eyes are probably closed, too. So when we saw the photo we were happily surprised. I mean, if we weren't sitting infront of him, he'd probably think we were attractive! :)

You Guys...I Think She Licked My Eyeball...

2009-05-29T19:05:00.004+02:00

That is Twiggy

Once again, there is a long post in the works, but I'm too lazy to do a real update right now. Therefore, I will give you a picture taken today of me and Twiggy, the directrice of SB's dog. She is a 3.5 month, slightly neurotic Jack Russel terrier. She also peed on the floor in the computer room, and tried to lick me from head to toe. It was love at first sight, obviously.

(Don't worry, Riley, you are still my favorite dog ever though. (Sorry Lucy...))

Nom Nom Nom

2009-05-24T13:26:00.004+02:00

So the joke that I say when I'm taking photographs (that really isn't a joke...) is that in 10 years when I look back at my photo's I'll remember what I ate, but not who I was with...

Minus the mussel photo, the rest have been taken at the "final" meals I've been having over the past week. Because literally everyone is leaving (minus Willie), we've been doing LOTS of meals together. Awww. The first photos are from Cafe du Marche, the second group from Berganmot (?).

Mussels! This was an amazing lunch (with Sharon, Leo and Trevor) where we had 2 huge bowls of mussels, fries and a beer for 12 euros! We might not have made it into class after that....

Molten Chocolate cake, that I split with Nick.
I think this was Hannah's truffle pasta.
Janet's roast chicken
Brian's Duck Confit
Kendall's steak
Trevor's artichoke app. He was actually posing to be in the photo...and Sarah was like, "Don't be dumb, Michelle won't take pictures of you, only your food."
My duck magret. Amazing.
My Shrimp app.

Basically, I'm always really satisfied with my food from Cafe du Marche (mine from that night wasn't pictured - steak tartare - but it's an amazing CHEAP! cafe, around the corner from me). The second place was nice as well, and had a higher quality of food (and price). I do however really need to watch what I'm eating again...because I've been going whole hog for the last couple of days...and I WILL come back 50 lbs heavier if I don't watch it...

The Younger Sister I Never Wanted...

2009-05-22T18:54:00.002+02:00

There are times when everyone goes out to do other cool things and leaves me and Priscilla by ourselves for dinner.

Normally, this is on a school night, and there's no real issue. We finish dinner, put away the stuff, then go into our respective corners of the house. Amusingly, this means that Priscilla watches 4 hours of television TV/goes on Facebook instead of doing her homework. I am doing the same thing, except that because I am the older, more mature "sibling", I sometimes leave for a couple of hours to "prendre une verre" with my friends.

A couple of months ago, the following conversation occurred on a Wednesday night:

Priscilla: What are you doing tonight?
Me: I'm going out. Why?
Priscilla: Uh...well...I'm gonna go out for a couple of hours too.
Me: (gives her a look) Do your parents know?
Priscilla: Ehh...Have I told you that you are my favorite person who has ever stayed with us?
Me: OK! Have a good time! Don't get killed! Byeee!!!

Well, the last part didn't exactly go like that, but I told her I was leaving and that she should make the right life choice.

I came back later that night around 1 am and saw that her bedroom door was closed, and I assumed she made it in safely.

The following day, I was talking to Priscilla (we were walking behind Madame and Monsieur, en route to the car) and I asked, "How was last night?"

Madame, with ears of a bat and the intuition of a mother who has had 5 children goes, "What did I hear? What did you do last night Priscilla? I thought you were doing your homework?"

Priscilla looks at me with deer in the headlight eyes, so I pause, then respond:

"Well, when I left last night, she was watching Gossip Girls in English, without the subtitles, and I know how hard that is for her."

And Madame goes, "Well, I wish you were doing your homework Priscilla, but at least you were being semi-productive and trying to improve your English."

If I was not Priscilla's favorite foreign student before that moment, trust me, I am now.

Anyway, where I'm going with this is that 10 minutes ago, Priscilla goes, "What are you doing tonight?"

Friday nights for Priscilla are "supposed" to be work nights, and then she is allowed to go out on Saturday nights (until 2 am! What the hell! I NEVER stayed out that late when I was in high school, and even now I'm normally in by 2! And I'm almost 21!).

My response: "Well...I came in really late last night, so probably something low-key, or I'll just stay-in..."

Her answer: "You know I think of you as a sister right...?"

Me: "I should've had you write my French essays for me this past week, in exchange for all I do for you...."

...I think when I leave the apt, she will be the person I miss the most...!!!

Things I've Learned (Part Deux)

2009-05-18T21:42:00.002+02:00

...another list with things I've learned since the first posting of "Things I've Learned"...

1. You don't always have to read the assigned reading.
2. Don't watch your host mother cook - because when you see that THERE IS CREME FRAICHE IN EVERY SINGLE THING WE EAT.
3. The best days are days you can eat outside
4. Streaming shows on the internet are the best time killer.
5. Don't admit to your hosts that you have literally slept the whole day away.
6. Don't admit that you are only able to recognize where you live by the key pad outside the front door. And then, don't admit that you walked past where you live 3 times because they updated the key pad and you didn't know any other landmarks...
7. When the illegal immigrant at the sandwich shop corrects your French, smile and accept the correction. Remember that you speak English better than he ever will.
8. The same goes with being corrected by an 8 year old.
9. 10 euro steak tartare does not equal food poisoning. It equals DELICIOUSNESS
10. Blog posts are the best form of procrastination.

Summer Plans

2009-05-17T17:03:00.002+02:00

As many of you have noticed, I have stated several times that I will be staying in Paris until mid-July. It's not because I am trying to leave American permanently (if anything, this year has made me realize how much I love the USA), but because I have found an internship here for 6 weeks. (When I say "I found" I really mean, "Thank you Mike & Heather".)

I will be working full time from June 1 to July 11, then coming home July 13. If you are in the area, please let me know! I already know I have 2 visitor for sure, plus Caty (...you better be coming Rooommmmiiieeee) so at least I'll be occupied during the weekends.

Where does this leave me with Sweet Briar? Well, tomorrow starts Finals Week (damn, that went quickly!) and then I'll be done with everything on Wednesday. A week from then, the 27th, I will be in London for the day seeing Emily (from Beijing) and then I'll be a working girl for the rest of the summer (insert joke here).

Don't worry, the blog WILL continue (though I won't be blogging on work) until the end of my time here so there is an additional 6 weeks for entertainment for all!

...and now I should probably study...

Umm...coupez mes chevaux? oops..mes cheveux?

2009-05-13T21:35:00.004+02:00

I know, it's hard to be as attractive as me. (Prior to haircut)
Yep, still really, really attractive! (After haircut)

If you get a Skype account, you too can see all my attractive facial expressions!

So 2 weeks ago I decided to get my haircut. And when I say "I", I mean my mother suggested it, my friends suggested it...and then I stopped brushing my hair 'cause I didn't have enough patience to get out all of the knots. And it was 2 days after that, that I decided I REALLY needed to get a haircut.

Back story:

My hair has almost always been at the length that it is right now (after cut). But while I was in China, I let it get long and it looked REALLY REALLY good. Mainly because there's almost no humidity there so I was tricked into believing that I can have long hair. LIES. I came home in December, got my hair cut right before I left in January - but didn't cut it short, I kept it long-ish. WELL - France isn't the same as Beijing and my hair started to get crazy long (and puffy)! But, I actually got some compliments on it too, which is why I kept letting it get longer and longer. (Heather's comment at the time (March): it looks luxurious!)

But the days went by and it started to triangle out...and my roots started showing. I'll admit it, I've been dying my hair since 8th grade. And then once I decided to stay here in Paris until mid-July, I knew I couldn't wait that long for a touch-up. So my decision was easy:

Me: EVAAA!!! I need a place to cut my hair.
Eva: Ok.
Me: Where do I gooooooooooooo?
(10 minutes later)
Eva: Thierry Lothmann. Use Mendi.
Me: Well that was easy...

2 days later:
(on the phone, at the Sweet Briar Office)
*Bring Bring*
Lady: Allo?
Me: Umm...est-ce que je peux faire une rendez-vous pour une coupe et les meches?
Lady: Oui.
Me: OK. Le nom c'est Jay. G-A-Y.
Lady:...Ok....
(give details, hang up)
Sarah: You never learned the alphabet, did you?
Me: Ummm maybe? Once?
Sarah: Do you realize you spelled your name "G-A-Y"?
Me: Fuck my life.

(The letters "g" and "j" are switched in French, Sarah assured me it's a common mistake. As did Jenny, who on the first day of SB spelled her name: Genny Kanj...)

2 days after that:
Went to the salon, got my hair did, and am actually pretty pleased with it! My hair was getting too long (Mother commented: It was starting to look a bit like Alice in Wonderland), so I'm glad I did it now instead of waiting for July, back at home.

YAAAAAAAAY for using French in real life! YAAAAAAAAAAY!

How was YOUR weekend?!?!

2009-05-11T21:18:00.003+02:00

So when I was invited to the "country house", I really didn't know what to expect, except that Madame promised me that there would be animals there. I mean, give me animals and I will travel.

We set out on a Thursday night, 5 of us (Monsieur, Madame, Priscilla, Camille - Lara's best friend - and me) in the back of the car. Lara and Grandma were going to join us later that evening at the house.

En route, Madame turns around with a wicked grin and says: "Oh, I forgot to tell you Michelle, the drive takes 6 hours."

Priscilla then chimes in, "Well, we are at the Bois du Boulogne...you can just jump out now and make some money on the side." (The bois is where all the hookers hang out.)

If there was any re-affirmation that I was placed in the right homestay, this would be further proof.

But I digress.

2.5 hours later...we pulled up here:

I kid you not. This is the "country house".

Even more proof I was put in the right family. I love me some taxidermy!

Does your country house have a name? Oh wait, you don't have a chateau as a 2nd property!

So actually, the point of the trip was to go to the church where Lara is getting married in the summer. Camille and Olivier (another one of Lara's friends who will be playing the organ at the wedding) were there as well, in order to do a dry run through.

Church!

Priscilla (front) and Camille start singing!

Me and Manon

We took the care-taker's daughter to the Church, too. (All chateau's need year-round, live-in help, as I was told.) It became evident to all that she was going to glue herself on to me (why are kids like cats?! Cats ALWAYS attach themselves to me because they know I am NOT a cat person. Kids apparently are the same deal too...) and I played baby-sitter for a very, very long 3 hours.

Once back at the ranch, we had engaged in other fun activities such as:

Cluedo!

(That's "Clue" in French. DUHHH) I did better in Cluedo than in Trival Pursuit, in which I was dead-weight.

And then we got to do the one thing I set out to do:
Ride horses!!!!

Hey Eros. Sorry you were such a spaz-face.

So Lara and I decided to ride, which would have been good, minus that the horses hadn't been ridden in months, Lara hadn't ridden in 10 years, and I was wearing a hunt cap. ("Wait...this isn't a real helmet?! - Lara)

After it became clear that Eros was not having this "Michelle gets on and rides game", I decided to ride Jason, instead:

Ignore the crappy leg, forward position.

Why yes, we DO ride in front of the chateau, thanks for asking. Don't YOU?! It was nice to finally get back on a horse, even if it was for a short time. (I also rode Eros in the end, because I couldn't let him get away with being a jerk. Good thing I had my hunt cap to protect me...)

We also took a long walk in nature, ate leg of baby deer, and celebrated Grandma's 80th birthday. I have great video of that, but it's not going up here...

A succesful week-end was had by all...

And then we loaded up the car (complete with Cookie), Monsieur put Madame's hat on his head, and we drove off back to Paris.

Yet the question remains...What did YOU do this weekend?!?!

LOOK! LOOK!

2009-05-10T21:37:00.002+02:00

So I will admit it, I'm a pretty blase person. Except when I'm not. So this morning, I was en route to one of my favorite places in Paris (St. Ouen flea market) with Sharon when the following conversation took place:

Sharon (randomly, to some English guy): Excuse me, do you know you look a lot like Jim Broadbent.
Random Guy: Uhmm.
Sharon: Wait, ARE you Jim Broadbent?!?!
Random Guy: Uhh....(1/2 nods and gives Sharon a "Please go away look")
Sharon: COOL! HIIIIIIIIIIIII! I'm Sharon.
Me: (head in hands) I can't take you anywhere....and who the hell is this guy?
Sharon: He was in Bridget Jones's Diary and Moulin Rouge AND he's Professor Slughorn in the new Harry Potter.
Me: OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!

On further research, he is also an Oscar winner. I was so excited for one of my first celebrity spotting in ages ('cause Anne Hathaway doesn't count when it's just around town).

5 hours later:

Lara and I were en route to the bus, when we walk in the path of some people getting filmed on Velibs (the free public bikes in Paris). I decided to do a double glance to see who exactly where on the bikes when...

Me: OH MY GOD!! IT'S DITA VON TEESE
Lara: Qui!?! (Who?)
Me: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG.
Lara: Ummm....
Me: I need to call Sarah. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

I know that now all of you are going to Google Dita von Teese. But I was sooo excited esp. 'cause I wanted to see her at Crazy Horse but the tickets were too expensive. But I was totally like, bugging out 'cause I saw 2 celebrities in 1 day. AHHH!!

(Real update tomorrow, I promise.)

RIP "fIphone" 2008-2009

2009-05-07T18:57:00.000+02:00

Today marks the 6th month anniversary of my iPhone, belovedly called, "fiphone" (pronounced, fie (rhymes with pie) phone).

He had a good life; he traveled from China to America, and had many voyages throughout Europe as well. He even got to work in Morocco, too. He withstood multiple injuries: falling out of my purse, falling downstairs, being accidentally stepped on. He was a super-trooper.

His favorite things were being confused with the "real" iPhones and his pink carrying case (which sadly broke 3 weeks ago). He also liked it when I wiped him down with sanitizer.

He was to be passed on to Priscilla at the end of my stay here, but that was not to be.

Today, at about 1.20 pm Paris time, I sat down on my fIphone, and the screen cracked. (Before you start the fat jokes...it was at a weird angle AND I've lost 5 pounds while being here, thank's very much!!)

Luckily, to my foresight that the fIphone might crap out, I brought mr. Motorola (my first phone in China, pictured to the left in the photo) along for the ride as well. He is willing to accept the call of duty in a new country, and has already been employed several times in the last hour.

Good-bye, Mr. fIphone, I will miss you.

Morocco, Part I

2009-05-04T15:35:00.003+02:00

Too lazy to write a new entry...sorry...but here are some photos! You can make your own captions if you want and leave them in the comment section...more in detail entry to come...

What I do every Wednesday night

2009-04-29T21:21:00.004+02:00

I promise that I will do my Morocco update soon...but until then I will leave you with (another) video. It's a really short clip of what I do in my phonetics lab every Wednesday night, and the reason why I am so self-conscious speaking French...thanks Denise...

ps - yes, I got my haircut...more on that later

Cooking with Monsieur & Michelle!

2009-04-24T13:10:00.003+02:00

So I am back from Morocco, but legit dying with some type of cold/allergy/whatever...and don't feel like doing a real post about Morocco. Therefore, I am leaving you with a video of Monsieur and me "Cooking", aka, Madame (and Lara and Priscilla - everyone who can cook) left us to go to the country house for 2 weeks, leaving him and me to fend for ourselves...

"At least her passport was full"

2009-04-14T15:03:00.006+02:00

Romanian Flag!

So the Night before I left to go to Romania, I had dinner with Ann, Alain and Eva. During dinner, Ann turns to me and asks:

A: Michelle, what possessed you to want to go to Romania?
Me: ...'cause it's cheap...
A: Have you ever thought there might be a reason for it being so cheap?!?

Well, the moral of the story is, yes it's cheap in Romania and I never have to go back...ever, ever again.

The blog title is what I told Joe I wanted as my epitaph, if I died during the trip. (Joe stated that there was a 50/50 chance of one of us dying during the trip...I told him that it sure as hell wasn't going to be me, but just to be sure, I wanted my epitaph to be good...)

Joe and I started in Bucharest (sad, depressing) and went to Braslov (not as sad and depressing) to see Dracula's castle...and that was it. For real. We ate tons of Italian food (I don't know, all the restaurants were Italian/Romanian?!?) and managed to navigate the language barriers.Fake Hollywood-esque signHey! I'm standing in front of Dracula's castle! There is nothing else to do in this city!

From Brasov, we went to Rasnov (see a pattern with the names here?), where we hiked up to that fortress pictured above.The view from the top of the fortress

So it was a fine trip, nice to get out of the city for a couple of days, and nice to be in a REALLY REALLY cheap area. We leave for Morocco on Thursday....

Where In the World?!?

2009-04-09T16:16:00.002+02:00

So my spring break starts now. Or, to be more specific, started at 3 pm today, after my last class. What am I doing this spring break? Traveling!

Instead of coming home (my break is a lengthy 2 weeks long), I've decided to go to Romania and Morocco. Why? Cheap! And there are beaches! Interestingly enough, I'm not quite sure if I like the beach, but we shall see...

I will be Romania Saturday through Tuesday with Joe, then going to Morocco the following Thursday (a week from today) and will be there until Thursday the 23rd, with Joe, Sarah, and some other kids from Sweet Briar.

Therefore, there will be minimal posting for a while...sorry...but the photos will be good (hopefully!) upon my return.

Also, for those who don't know, I will be staying in Paris this summer, through mid-July. I got an internship here, and will continue to live in Paris, so if any of you are in the area, tell me! I love visitors!

Au revior, until my return...

Why French?

2009-04-06T15:06:00.002+02:00

before this entry, I want to clarify the Safari problem: It is best to view the blog in Mozilla, there's some issue with Safari and not seeing more than the first post...

So when people ask me why I study French, I normally give them the simplest answer possible (even if it’s not 100% accurate): I like the food. Sure, it’s true (and it’s also the same response I give for why I study Chinese, too), but there’s a lot more than that.

For as long as I remember, my house would become very busy for several weeks every summer when Ann and her family would come to visit. Ann, her husband, and 2 daughters would come and I’d ALWAYS hear French. No clue what they were saying, but I knew I wanted to learn. The language barrier was never an issue but I would hear them speaking French amoungst themselves and I WANTED TO LEARN DAMNIT.

So in 6^th grade, when we had the option to choose our language (French or Spanish), I naturally chose French, with the end goal of being able to speak with Ann et al.

The process to learning French has not been easy. I actually think I had a harder time picking up the basics for French than I did for Chinese. I have learned French through sheer determination and immersion. 6^th grade came and went, and I did very well, without actually learning anything. In fact, I even thought you were to “irrigate verbs” not “conjugate” them. I don’t know where I got this idea from, but trust me, I remember when my mother called me out on that and I thought she was DEAD WRONG.

The whole “doing-well-in-French-thing” ended on the first day of Seventh Grade. Dr. Schaeffler promptly told us that we were all too old to be learning French and our accents would never be any good. She then promptly ripped up Ali Lane’s homework, when she caught Ali doing it in the middle of class.

7^th grade was a turning point, and it is because of Dr. Schaeffler that I wanted to not only learn French, but learn it well. She took us back to the basics and built us up from there. Could I speak to Ann et al the summer after 7^th grade? No, but I was on my way to that goal.

From them on, my French teachers ranged from amazing to really fucking awful.

10^th grade was another turning point in my French education: I came face-to-face with Mr. Rizzuti. Mr. Rizzuti is to my actual French skills as Dr. Schaeffler is to my desire to learn French. I left his class crying on multiple occasions, but I learned. It is because of these 2 teachers that I decided to spend a summer abroad in France.

My first time abroad in France improved my French the most. I lived with a family, took cooking classes, and came back with a solid grip on French. So solid, in fact, that I was one of the best students in my French class junior year (that wasn’t saying a lot though, ‘cause the best kids were already in AP French Language…). Senior year in High School brought about classes in both AP French Language and Literature, in order to catch up with my peers. And then, I realized I could start to talk with Ann et al.

College French classes have been good as well. A great professor (I’ve taken 3 of his classes) has helped me enjoy the language (although he hasn’t really added anything to my French skills, but that’s not his job at this point) and I was already in the 300’s (highest level at MHC) by first semester sophomore year.

I came to France this semester after not speaking French since April. It’s important to me to continue what I’ve learned. My French is pretty good (minus my accent, Dr. Schaeffler was right about that) and I can hold my own at dinners or parties or just talking with Ann’s daughter Eva (though admittedly, I normally just talk to her in English…). But the moral of the story is, I set out with the goal of being able to speak with Ann, Claire, Eva (and Alain now, too!) and it has been accomplished.

Retrospective

2009-04-02T15:09:00.004+02:00

When I identify to people that I spent last semester abroad as well, the inevitable comes up:

Do you wish you stayed in China?

The answer in a nutshell: yes.

There isn’t a day that goes bye that I don’t miss China. The people, the food, the classes, the cheap DVDs. The ability to knock someone’s socks off when I bust out my Chinese…really, I miss it so.

But the answer is more complicated than that: had I stayed in China it most certainly would’ve been different. And not necessarily for the better either: my closest friend on the program, Emily, wouldn’t have been there, my classes would’ve been totally different (and I would still have had to have class with a kid I really REALLY disliked) and I would’ve been in a homestay, which might have sent me over the deep edge.

But I miss the daily servings of DanDan mien, ice cream and Tsingdao. The pouty-face that Zhong Laoshi would make when we were being annoying, the jokes John Cho would make in class, walking down to Emily’s room and persuading her that, infact, it’s a good idea to travel ½ hour across town for dinner, even though we have a test the next morning.

Do I regret coming to France? Not really.

I get to travel in Europe, eat amazing food, meet more cool people whom I would’ve never met had I stayed in Beijing. I get to live in one of the chic-est arrondisments in Paris, learn how to properly peel my fruit and how to properly entertain men at a luncheon, when being the only female at the table (tip: be witty).

I learned that I like “developing nations” more than the first world. I learned that, at the end of the day, no matter where I am in the world, I still love NJ more than I love that place. (True. I love New Jersey. As I travel to all of these cool places, NJ is still my #1 love…sorry Mom….).

It was exactly a year ago that I decided to spend my year 1/2 in France 1/2 in China. Things have changed since then...but I still love me some foie gras...

Coming Soon to a Sweet Briar Quarterly Near You...

2009-03-29T22:16:00.003+02:00

We were sent an email asking to write (in English) for SB's Quarterly, so I volunteered to spit something out. Let me know what you think, my parents gave me 2 totally different answers, one which was positive (thanks Mom!) and one which was less than positive (bu hao, BaBa).

There is little as nerve-wracking as studying abroad, other than studying abroad and living with a host family. The questions are endless: what will they be like? Can they cook well? Are there any pets? And, in my case, will their trunk of their car be big enough to fit all of my suitcases when they pick me up on the first day?

Lady luck (actually, Mme Parnet) was on my side and I got placed within the perfect family for me. That isn’t to say that everything has been easy; the first day was beyond nerve-wracking. After quickly meeting my host at the assigned meeting point, I was whisked away to my new home-away-from-home, smack in the middle of Paris. I met almost the entire family that first weekend, even though I primarily live with the parents and the youngest daughter (the other 4 children are grown up/in graduate school). The beginning was rough – I had to determine what my role within the family was and how I would fit in. Additionally, learning new customs (I’m not too good at peeling pears with my knife) and new vocabulary (it’s a good thing I had the foresight to Google translate what “couilles” meant, instead of asking at the dinner table) took its toll on me, and dinner time conversations were always a bit strained. There were times when all I wanted to do was to fade into the woodwork, as well as times when I thought I was the woodwork. Living with a host family meant that I was sometimes privy to too much information.

Yet 4 weeks and 5 days later (but hey, who’s counting?), I realized that I had been matched perfectly to my host-family. Their senses of humor are compatible with mine (such as when Madame fed me rabbit, when the beloved family pet is a rabbit named Cookie), they are attentive but not overbearing, and they care about me and my well-being. From history lessons during dinner (don’t ask for a resume of 19^th century

France

and expect to be finished in a half-hour) to watching the youngest daughter’s chorale concerts, I have been fully included in my “maison d’acceuil”.

There is nothing as nerve-wracking as living with a foreign family, while studying abroad. There is also nothing as valuable as living with a foreign family, while studying abroad. My memories won’t soon be forgotten: Madame turning out exquisite meals from the kitchen smaller than my room at the apartment, Monsieur trying to cram as much French history in me as possible, Priscilla asking me what my feelings are about “Gossip Girls” and being happy when I said that I not only liked it, but that I would tell her parents that she needed to watch it weekly to improve her English, too. I have been given the opportunity of a lifetime, thanks to Sweet Briar’s Junior Year in France home stay placement program.

This is Cookie. S/he has not been eaten yet. Keyword: Yet.

Anyway, I decided this would not be the appropriate place to express how agitated I am when they feed me dinner at 10 pm, or how I am sometimes there for their blockbuster fights. But in this case, the positives way outweigh the negatives, and I am so totally luck to be placed where I was.

Things I've Learned (Part I)

2009-03-26T17:44:00.002+01:00

So I'm a bit over the half-way mark for this semester (though might stay here longer, more info on that in posts to come) and I wanted to share the following things I've learned while here:

1. Don't buy pastries at 5 pm. They are stale. Don't expect to get your money back, either.
2. No such thing as too much foie gras.
3. There is, however, such a thing as too much chocolate mousse.
4. When you have 5 months to try all of the food in Paris, pace yourself. It's endurance, not speed.
5. Squattie toilets exist in France.
6. Don't try to be French, you'll never blend in. Just try to be a little less American.
7. Everyone eats fruit with a fork and a knife. Learn accordingly.
8. Be nice to your host family and they will treat you VERY well.
9. Be especially nice to the host family's children. They CAN (and will) make or break your stay.
10. Wear shoes at all times in the house. Naked feet are not acceptable.
11. Be adventurous!
12. Don't be so adventurous that you get propositioned at every street corner.
13. Take being propositioned in stride. It's a compliment! Really!
14. You don't have to be nice to everyone on your program. But word gets around quickly when you're not.
15. Relax.
16. Just 'cause the majority of French girls wears Spandex, doesn't mean you have to, too.
17. Travel as much as possible. You'll never get to do this again!

Ca va, Michelle? T'es pas malade?

2009-03-23T18:40:00.008+01:00

So Sweet Briar took us to Provence for the weekend - Arles and Avignon - as the weekend trip they schedule us for. It was amazing, minus the 6.45 meeting time at the train station, which made me wake up at 5.

Our 1st stop was at an open air market in Arles, which amusingly, I'd been to before with my first homestay family, the summer before 11th grade. There were lots of sausages!
And bunnies, which I don't think we supposed to be pets...
After lunch, we saw where Van Gough chilled out, after he cut off his ear.
And visited the Pont du Gard, an aquaduct.
Joe and I, a self portrait.
We took that after he used me as a wind-shield.

We stayed at a Monestary overnight, that's the view of it from the hill which overlooks it.This was our dinner the first night. The presentation wasn't too good. But it tasted OK.

My carton of rose, which the directrice of SB won't let me live down. She was surprised that a) I wasn't hungover the next day and b) I lived to tell the tale. (Isn't the packaging pretty?!)

The 2nd day, we went to an old chateau, where I had also gone with my homestay family. Hannah and I role play. She took it seriously. I thought it was a hoot.

But not as funny as this picture!

On the train ride home we played "Lou Garou". No clue if the spelling is right, but it means werewolf in French. It's like the game Mafia for those who know it...

It was a successful weekend!

Random Pic of the Day

2009-03-19T18:22:00.000+01:00

Sometimes, you just gotta play with hand puppets.

Caty Would NEVER Do This To Me...

2009-03-15T23:06:00.002+01:00

Even though she has been referenced multiple times on this blog (and the PEK one), Caty was my roommate sophomore year at MHC and will always be the golden standard for roommate-ness.

The story starts here:

Yesterday, after finally leaving the apartment (didn't shower after all of that...showered at the hotel...) I hang out with my dad and come back to the apartment around 11 pm. The party was already hoppin'. For real. Probably like 100 people in the apartment...I walk in, Madame motions me over and asks me to join the party for a bit. OK, cool. I go to my room to change (need a dress and high heels to fit in...). I walk to my room...and I notice my door is open. OK, weird. I was SURE I closed my door. I flip on the lights and see there is a pram in my room.

OK...someone parked their baby carriage in my room...kinda weird...I'll move it out to the hallway when...

OH MY GOD THERE'S A BABY IN THE CARRIAGE! OH MY GOD, IT'S SCREAMING!

I get outta my room REALLY quickly...and find Madame...

"Madame...est-ce qu'il y a une raison pour laquelle j'ai une bebe dans ma chambre?"
"QUOI?!?!?!"

We go to my room...where she confirms there is in fact a screaming baby in my room...cool.

At first I thought it might have been her little joke (see the post on kids for more details...) and then realized that some person messed up the room and put the kid in mine...and not Priscilla's...

Welcome to my life. Can't make this stuff up.

CATY I MISS YOU HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY BEST ROOMIE EVERRRRRRRRRRRRR. xxoo, roomie m

I Miss My Bathroom/Get Me to the Church on Time

2009-03-14T09:08:00.002+01:00

So right now, I am sitting in my room, listening to World War 3 erupt outside my door. Why? The line for the bathroom.

Today is Lara's wedding (Lara's the oldest daughter). It's not her big wedding, but the civil part (I think...I still don't get all of these terms...) and that means the whole family is here. I don't think I've ever gone into the details, but there are 5 kids in the family, ranging from ages 30 (the oldest son) to 15 (Priscilla). I'm 99% sure that the 4 youngest kids (plus Lara's fiance) are all trying to use the bathroom at the same time. And if they are not in the bathroom, they are in the toilet.

Which leave me, sitting here, typing this blog entry, and hoping they leave for wherever the hell they are going so I can shower in peace!

But, back to the task at hand: I've known about Lara's wedding basically from the second I stepped foot in the door on Day 1. I knew it was in August, I knew it was at the country house, ,I knew the issues with finding the proper caterers...I DID NOT KNOW that the first part of the wedding was this weekend. In fact, I thought it was last weekend (when I was away) and it was the engagement party.

Oops, not true.

So when I came back here on Tuesday, I saw that Lara and her finace were still here, the tables were still set in the foyer, and thought ok, the engagement part is THIS weekend. Shoulda learned my verb tenses better, no biggie.

Well, come Wednesday, Lara invites me to the party Saturday night (tonight) which I am like, OK, cool, that's really nice of you, I'll be there. (It's a the house...it woulda been HELLA awk had I not been invited and had to go through the front door when everyone else is in the foyer...) She then proceeds to tell me that Saturday day is "family time" and I was like, that's totally cool, my father is here in Paris this weekend, no big. At the same time, I'm kinda thinking to myself, jeeze, this is one long engagement party...but hey, I'm in France, shouldn't judge.

Wednesday night Lara invites me to eat with her friends (good time, minus starting the dinner party at 10 pm...) and then I start to hear about going to Mass on Saturday. Okk...I guess people spend their engagement party day with their family, going to mass, then throwing a huge party at night. At the end of the night, Lara says that if I want to, I can go to the Mass on Saturday as well. I thank her polietly, but explain that my Dad is in Paris, and I should really spend the day with him.

Cool.

So, all of this comes to a head Thursday, when I was eating dinner with Priscilla (sometimes everyone else does stuff for dinner, leaving Priscilla and I to dine alone) and she says something about how happy Lara is getting married this weekend. UM WHAT?!? Yea, Lara's engagement party isn't this week...IT'S THE FIRST PART OF HER MARRIAGE! (There's the civil part and the religious part of each French marrige.) And after she's married, her fiance is going back to the UAE (where they lived - he's a French guy working there) and Lara will stay in France until her "other wedding" in August. Or, I mean, I think that's what Priscilla said...but her mouth was full and I started having a panic attack over what to get for them for their wedding gift.

Anyho, that's what's going on in my life...sorry Dad for making you wait so long this AM...

What do you MEAN, Guernica isn't here?!

2009-03-10T20:21:00.005+01:00

The theme of this blog post is ham. Above, ham with asparagus egg and ham!

More ham!

Even more ham! With hoof at the tops!
Me being cultured at the Prado Museum.
We went to the zoo!And I climbed on statues!

Sarah and I eat paella.
food porn. obvi.

Anyway, the title of the blog comes from going to the Prado Museum, where we were sure that's where Guerica would be. We were wrong. However, I got to see the Garden of Earthly Delights, which I did a presentation on in AP Art History in 11th grade, and we went to the zoo. (Do you sense a pattern in my vacations? Michelle goes to foreign country. Michelle eats country's food. Michelle see's countries animals. Michelle leaves.)

I'm Bored You Guys....

2009-03-03T13:26:00.003+01:00

So a very commonly heard thing after classes here at Sweet Briar is: "You guys...I'm booooored...what do you want to do this afternoon?"

The answer: The Louvre.

We all get free entry cards to the Louvre, so one afternoon we decided to accompany Leo there, so he could pick his up.

XoXo, Copenhagen

2009-03-02T17:37:00.007+01:00

We went to the zoo...
I rode the fake elephant and got stares from the locals...
...and posed like an Okapi
while Amberle bonded with the penguins,
Later, I tried on hats.
And tried not to get arrested for walking on Denmark's largest fountain, just for the sake of art.
I got to see the Little Mermaid too!

We went to the Ice BarI practiced being Nanuk of the North.
And Amberle practiced her fish face.

I confused being spastic, with being funky
And then we had to eat. And eat we did...
and made pancakes for breakfast
had some dim sum
standard Sunday activities
Pad Thai always hits the spot...

I enjoyed Copenhagen, seeing Amberle (and watching hours and hours of Gossip Girl....), and just being in a place that's not Paris!

Don't Leave Me Alone Here!

2009-02-25T20:56:00.004+01:00

So last night, I came back to an empty apartment. (I'm home for a day and a half in between Brussels and Copenhagen, mainly to do laundry. I'm cool like that.) The apartment wasn't empty because people weren't home yet - it was empty because...dundundunnnnn...everyone is skiing in the Alps.

So I unlocked the door, flipped on the lights and jumped 10 feet in the air. (I'm REALLY jumpy, for those who don't know.) No, there weren't dead bodies or any other chilling things in the foyer...but there was COOKIE.

Cookie is Priscilla's bunny. I knew s/he exists, but have never just been like "Hey, Priscilla, can I cuddle with the rabbit?" mainly 'cause that's socially awkward and Priscilla already thinks I am a weird American (long story involving cheese and me making animals noises. Caty would've appreciated it...).

So Cookie is chilling out in her/his cage, I filled up the water bottle 'cause there was almost none left...go to my room, check email, blahblahblah...and then I get hungry.

Damn.

I knew Madame had left me food in the fridge, so I head on over to the kitchen, where I am greeted with a note along the lines of "burger in the freezer. that's on top of the fridge. sorry i'm not here. bye." Cool. There were also carrottes rapee (aka, raped carrots! grated carrots...in english) cause she knows I like them...blah blah blah.

And then the problem starts.
The following phone call:
Me: MOM! How do I turn on the stove?
Mom: Um what? I'm in the car. Just turn it on.
Me: OMGOMGOMG Madame never showed me how to turn it on! And it's gas/match type deal. OMGOMGMG
Mom: Oh God, I'll give you the 10 euros to eat out, don't blow the place up.
Me: ...there's an electric coil...how does that work?
Mom: Turn it on and DON'T TOUCH THE COIL.
Me: Ok, cool, I'll call you if something bad happens.

10 minutes later
Me: MOOOOOOOOOMMM the water isn't boiling, can you wire 10 euros in to my account?
(pause)
Me: Oh wait, I think I see bubbles...sorry...call you later.
Mom: Cool.

Oh stove, you give me food and grief.

(disclosure: I can cook. Pretty well in fact - just no one ever gets to see the product of spending 2 weeks in the South of France learning how to cook at Insitut Paul Bocuse - because I am very lazy. )

So, moral of the story, I had some pasta and a "burger" that isn't really a burger. Thought I had a touch of salmonella in the middle of the night 'cause my tummy hurt and I thought I didn't cook the burger through enough, but all's good on my end.

And, even better, the eldest daughter flew in today from the UAE (where she's living with her future-husband - a French guy), so even though I decided to eat out this evening - duck confit to DIE for - I'm no longer alone in the house. YAYAYAY!

Off tomorrow bright and early to see Amberleeeee in Copenhagen. See you soon pengyou!!!

We can have 3 lunches, right?!

2009-02-24T20:37:00.004+01:00

So I just came back home from seeing Ali in Brussels! I miss you already! Photo re-cap of the last couple of days:

We decided to go to Antwerp for the day.

Ali's great-great-grandsomething, chilling out in a square in Antwerp.

I introduced Ali to the joys of foie gras.

We saw the Mannekin Pis.
Ali with her fries.
Me with my fries!
Funny story: we went to Chez Leon to get mussels. As we walked in, I said to Ali "I wonder if I like mussels..."
My mussels.
Guess I do! yumyumyum

More Random Dinnertime Ramblings...

2009-02-20T10:11:00.000+01:00

This is a test of “How Well Do You Know Michelle?”

Question: Does Michelle want kids?

Yes

Well, what do you think?

If you said no, you are correct.

I will never say never (and in all honesty, I probably will have kids), but I am not drawn to kids. Not my thing, the sticky fingers and diseases and fights and attention. Sure, I’d like to dress them up in cute clothing and teach them how to speak Swahili and write Chinese calligraphy with their toes – but honestly, kids are not my thing and are not in my current life plan.

So, to cut to the chase:

Last night at dinner, it was just Madame and I (everyone else – aka Monsieur and Priscilla - was out eating with co-workers/friends). I mean, I was cool with this – I’m a fan of Madame (aka, her cooking). I didn’t think I was about to get a 2 hour history lesson nor did I think we would awkwardly sit in silence.

So while talking - I don’t even know how this came up - but she asked, “Do you want kids?”

I swear to god, I thought I was going to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver (which, I’m 99% sure I’d administer improperly – but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?!). She was floored when I said no.

The next question (logically) was: Do you want to get married.

Answer: YES.

If there is anything that I am sure of in my future, it is that I want to get married.

Madame didn’t know what to think; this is a lady who has 5 kids, got married young (relatively young), and has spent her whole life running a household.

I was quite the oddity.

“Really? Are you SURE? How original! You know, they are much better when they are your own. They joy they bring! My, you really are quite original! I’m sure in 10 years I’ll get a letter from you saying how happy you are with your children…”

(Right now, my mother is sitting at the computer, enthused that someone else is trying to convince me that kids are good and cute and are worth having.)

I guess the moral of this post is to show a) what I talked about during dinner last night (actually, this is was one a wide variety of subjects - but unfortunately I can't post the funnier bits...) b) that I have the vocab to have such a conversation and c) I am feeling like a bad blogger and wanted to post.

I am leaving in a couple of hours - after helping Priscilla with her English homework, which I'm sure will be an exercise in patience for both of us - to visit Ali in Brussels. YAYAYAYAYAY! So excited! I'm off this upcoming week for my February break, so I'll be in Brussels until Tuesday, return to Paris Tuesday, stay here Wednesday, then off to Copenhagen to see Amberle on Thursday through Sunday. YAYAYAYAYAY! So excited times 2!

The Post You've Been Waiting for...

2009-02-19T16:42:00.000+01:00

I apologize in advance for the kinda crappy pictures - I'm trying to use my ISO feature so the flash doesn't white-out the pics, blah blah blah...whatever, Enjoy!

The Salmon tartare I had for lunch today. Mediocre, but I haven't puked so it's a success.

I swear to god, the grass is ALWAYS greener on the other side. Lo mien and wonton soup from the asian restaurant/french bakery around the corner from school. (I don't get the combo either...)Sarah's risotto with prosciutto that she had for lunch today.
This is an example of french cafeteria food - braised pork shanks with couscous. America, take note!
Chocolate cake at the Sweet Briar "Welcome to France" dinner. Crappy.
Chicken from the same dinner. Was cold and the rice was soggy. Ick.
The only decent part of the aforementioned dinner - quiche with leeks.
The first of many, many sandwiches that I eat/have been eating in France - a sandwich rosette aka, sausage sandwich. HOLLERRR!!! (I'm sure my arteries aren't thanking me...but my soul is :)

Dinner Time Conversation

2009-02-16T22:46:00.001+01:00

Tonight, Madame started off the conversation telling Monsieur (yes - I call them Madame and Monsieur...) that I'm pissed about the strike (obvi). So he asks if I want him to give me a history lesson.

(all in French, obvi)

Me: (hesitantly) yes....
Monsieur: OK, what time period.
Me: 19th century.
Monsieur: OK, what subsection.
Me: All of it.
Monsieur: All of the 19th century during dinner? Ok...

2 hours later:
Madame: Guillaume! Stop! Michelle, you can tell him that you are bored and want to do other stuff.

2.5 hours later:
Monsieur: I think I'm on the 20th century.
Me: You are! OK, let's stop! The End. BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Monsieur: ...but there's more...
Me: Good Nightttt! (runs out of the kitchen)

This conversation was punctuated by them teaching me how to peel a pear w/ a knife (did you know that touching the knife with your finger whilst peeling is considered declasse?). Call me an ignant Amuuricaan...I never peel my pears...

Well, it's Def Different than China!

2009-02-14T15:47:00.000+01:00

So in stark contrast to the prison which was my room in Beijing, my room here in Paris is quite lovely! It's about the size of a MHC room, for those who want a comparison, but instead of a closet, there are 2 armories...and a fireplace. Once again, I know I live a hard life.

This is my bed. There are birds on the bedspread, which doesn't really go with the pink Paul Frank pillowcase I brought from home. Whatever. The birds also match the drapes on the windows. (The room used to be the youngest son's room.)

My desk , chair, etc. To the left you can see the mantle, and under that is the fireplace. I don't think it's functional - and I'm not going to try it out! - and I have a bar blocking it anyway, so I can hang my coats and stuff. (Remember, no closet.)
The view from the left of my door. (There's a bathroom on the right side of the hallway, and 3 bedrooms on the left side.)View from in front of my room - leads to the front hallway/foyer/everything else in the house.

What's nice in my room - and I don't know if it's intentional or not - is that there are photos of horses and of asian people. (That last bit came out wrong, I know.) They knew beforehand that I'm a rider and that I speak Chinese (...or I did...) so it's nice that there are those photos in my room.

The walls here are padded too...or I mean, I think they are...there's give in them...or maybe I'm just going crazy...hmmm....

My Toes Hurt...

2009-02-12T17:28:00.000+01:00

So as per the sub-header of the blog, I really like foie gras.

I Really, Really like foie gras.

As those who have eaten with me know, I am a big believer in foie gras and don't really care about the way it is produced, simply that I can eat it and enjoy it.

And last week, after I had foie gras 2xs in 1 day (shut up! it's better than smoking!) as well as having it 3 times earlier that week, Sarah proclaimed that I was going to get gout.

She's probably right too, which is the kicker.

And then yesterday, my limbs started to hurt. It's the power of suggestion...but no matter...

So I present you with my new "after-school" snack:

pate de campagne!

I joke, it's not really my new after school snack, it's mainly a "I was bored inbetween phonetics lab and history class" type thing. Which in retrospect, is worse...

WTF, Mates?

2009-02-10T18:32:00.000+01:00

So I walk into Chinese today...and see only 3 other students faces staring back at me.

Cool.

In walks the Professor, who tells us - before she even takes off her coat - she is on strike and will not teach us today, but merely facilitate conversation.

Thanks for deciding to strike a month into the term, Professor!

Actually, it wasn't 1/2 bad, all things considered...but the moral of the story is, we are on strike until next Tuesday, and at that time there will be a "re-evaluation" of what LCAO will do. (LCAO is the college w/in Paris 7 that I am enrolled in.)

Bu hao y'all, bu hao...

Apologies, and more

2009-02-09T18:10:00.000+01:00

In the last week or so I've been getting e-mails about my updating, or more specifically, lack thereof.

My bad.

As I stated in the last post, my internet in the apartment is rather shitty. I can get good signal in the living room (which is like sitting in a museum and where I'm still not 100% sure if I can hang out in...) and in the bathroom (why yes, I multi-task, thanks for asking). The internet in my room? Not so much.

But I've been here for a month now, so I guess it's good to recap what's been going on with me:

Paris 7 is still on strike, so I have dropped my history classes at Paris 7 for ones at Sweet Briar. Which is kinda nice, cause it's def easier and less work than at Paris 7. What remains are my Chinese courses, which are killers, but will let me continue learning Chinese.

The first day of Chinese class was kinda rough:

Professor: Vous, la fille en noir, la question 1, SVP.
Me: UGHHHHHHH

Moral of the story: always identify that you are a foreign student and that you didn't show up to the first class.

Perf.

Otherwise, the Sweet Briar classes are good and I think I'll learn alot there.

And even though I only have Chinese at Paris 7, I still get to use my fancy-schmancy student ID card/debit card.

The Homestay front is going well, too.

I mean, there are times when I want to blend in the w/ the wallpaper, but the family is good and they treat me well. And Madame can COOK. I mean, really, really well. It's still a bit awkward at times (like right now, I have a ton of laundry to do but don't want to start it right now 'cause I don't know if she's OK with me using the laundry machine w/o asking...) but they tell good stories.

So, dear reader, I promise I will try to update more often, and with more pictures and videos...I guess I'll just have to start to use the bathroom more often.

:)

Ugh

2009-02-06T17:44:00.000+01:00

I promise, I am still alive. However, the internet sucks here. Sigh. Will try to do a longer, more photo/video intensive post soon.

And Then My Umbrella Flipped Inside Out

2009-02-02T18:01:00.000+01:00

So 2 Friday's ago, Sweet Briar took us to Versailles, about a 1/2 hour outside of Paris.

It sucked.

No fault of Sweet Briar or the Palace itself, but the weather sucked. Example 1:

It was sometime after this picture was taken that my umbrella flipped inside out. Bummer.

The photos I got inside were mediocre and we couldn't really snap photos in the garden (it was still pouring out) but for the 2 non-rain filled minutes going from the Palace to lunch, Sarah managed to snap this photo of me, making it look like I actually had fun and making my legs look really long. Score!In all honesty, it was very interesting there, and the Art History teacher at SB gave us a really good tour (in French, bien sur!) but I think I will have to come back on a day with better weather, to best appreciate the palace.

En Route to Sacre Coeur

2009-01-27T13:08:00.001+01:00

Wait...I speak French?

2009-01-25T21:57:00.000+01:00

So, opposed to Beijing, everyone here speaks English. Including my homestay hosts (parents?) I have no clue what to call them. Anyway:

My French is mainly practiced around the dinner table. Which is both good and bad. Good, because that's the one part of the day where it is required for me to think quick on my feet. Bad, because it makes me think quickly on my feet.

Tonight, during dinner, there was talk about family relations (Madame's niece is here for 10 days?). I think, and I mean I think, that Monsieur and Madame are 4th cousins or something. I mean, my French is pretty good, but I'm really hoping I missed something in the convo whilst trying to avoid the pellets that were in the pheasant.

(Madame's brother killed a whole bunch of them 2 weekends ago? That was a fun conversation...me getting all confused about pheasants in Paris and thinking they were pigeons. Right.)

But whilst sitting around the dinner table, I realized how much I understand, but how much more I want to be able to respond. Dinner table conversation is very much dependent on quick wit. And while I can understand the conversation in real-time French (that is to say, I don't need to translate their French into English), my first responses are always in English. And by the time I can answer in French, I am already 30 seconds late.

Bummer.

Anyway, it will only get better (it better only get better) and at least I haven't done anything really socially unacceptable. Yet.

Bu Fucking Hao.

2009-01-21T15:34:00.000+01:00

Bonjour à tous

La grève vient d'être votée à Paris VII mais pas par tous les professeurs. Vous devez aller à votre premier cours cette semaine et le professeur vous indiquera s'il fait grève ou non. Je vous demande de tous venir me voir avant lundi (je viens à Versailles également vendredi) et de choisir au moins un troisième cours SBC par mesure de précaution . Si la grève se prolonge nous ne voulons pas que vous restiez "en vacances"... Pour remplacer les cours de sociologie de Paris VII il y a les cours de l'Institut catholique dans lesquels vous pouvez vous inscrire également.
J'espère que vous ne serez pas trop découragé par cette annonce au début du semestre, et vous assure que nous ferons tout notre possible pour remplacer les cours ou vous orienter vers ceux déjà en place à SBC.

Bonne journée

This greeted me in my inbox today. And because I know that with the exception of like 5 people who read this thing (that I know of) none of you can read French fluently. So, to translate: Paris 7 (my university) is on strike.

Assholes. How self-centered of them!

Yet because not all professors are required to strike, I went to class today in the hopes that mine would not be canceled. The Class? Medieval History (Why not? I mean...I just need the credits...)

Enter, Stage Left:
Michelle, in a room with 4 other very angry looking French kids. All sitting in silence.

After 40 minutes:
Everyone looks around, gets up and leaves. Great.

Bienvenue en France!

As we were leaving, I spoke to another student who said this had never happened to him (a teacher not sending an email, or even sending someone else in his place to announce he wasn't planning on teaching...).

It's like, really now France? Can you not get your act together?!

So, I went back to the SB main office, to speak to the lady who does our schedules, and she said I shouldn't worry about the Chinese class, and that SB is trying to put together another history class for kids in Paris 7 affected by the strike. It'll be on 19th century French history, which in retrospect, will be a bit more useful...

I Enjoy Embarassing my Friends in Nice Restaurants

2009-01-19T18:20:00.000+01:00

So on Saturday, Sweet Briar took us out to dinner at Restaurant Vagenende. It was truly mediocre - there was a quiche, then chicken, the chocolate cake at the end. The pics will go up in another food related post...but it wasn't really worth it.

Video is attached...

Mid-Day Snack

2009-01-18T16:38:00.000+01:00

I'll justify the foie gras by saying that I walk alot...
...and everyday is a good day for foie gras...
yum

Eww, Michelle, You Eat Those Things?

2009-01-17T12:52:00.001+01:00

I found shrimp chips at Monoprix! HOLLERRR!!!

So I've been here a week now and things seem to be going well, minus the whole everyone speaks English part.

Classes start this week, so tomorrow I'm going with some other people to do a test run of where classrooms are, etc. It's like being in middle school all over again.

So far I am signed up for 2 history classes and 2 Sweet Briar classes (a writing workshop - glorified grammar class - and a phonetics class - requirement for French majors at MHC). I am also tentatively signed up for a Chinese class, dependent on how my meeting will go on the 26th with some guy in the Chinese department.

Basically, deciding to do Chinese here went something like this (this was all in French, obvi):

Person who helps us with classes: Are you sure you want to take this class?
Me: Yes
Person who helps us with classes: Are you sure you want to take this class?
Me: Yes
Person who helps us with classes: Are you really really really sure you want to take this class?
Me: What do you know, that I don't?

Basically, Chinese classes here are run basically as translations...from Chinese into French. And everyone in the class is Asian and they all want to become translators.

Good thing it takes more than that to scare me off...

En tant qu'Americanne...

2009-01-15T19:45:00.000+01:00

I think I stand out as much as a sore thumb. Apparently, I don't. (It's probably thanks to the banging black/white jacket that I have.)

Basically, every day I have at least 2 people come up to me and ask for directions. The second I open my mouth and say that I don't know (in French of course!) they said, Oh Sorry (in English, of course!).

No surprise.

It's very weird getting used to the differences between Paris and Beijing. When I came back from Beijing, I pretty much got straight back into the swing of things in NJ. The hardest thing was not honking my horn, and waiting for people to exit the store/subway in NYC before I would enter.

In Paris, I have to get used to the same thing (waiting for people to leave the metro before I get into the car, etc) as well as realize that being an American isn't as desirable as it is being one in Beijing. In Beijing, I could use my broken Chinese 'til the cows come home and they shopkeeper would smile and appreciate it.

In France, I use my (slightly better at this point) French and everyone switches into English. Hell, even my homestay "sister" speaks to me in English (though that is for another reason entirely).

It's simply interesting to see the difference between Paris and Beijing. And, at the end of the day, realize that there is no place like NJ...

Ni Hao, Zhongguo!

2009-01-13T21:38:00.000+01:00

Home, Sweet Home.

...wait a second...

The Photo Uploader isn't working...sorry...

2009-01-12T20:26:00.001+01:00

So as I was looking at the blog, I realized that the more recent photo of me in front of the Eiffel Tower looked familiar, as in, it's 5 minutes away from the apartment. Today I stopped and looked at it.

So I don’t know if we knew this mother, but this flame is directly above where Princess Diana died.

We had our first day of orientation today, it was kinda boring and overwhelming cause they just throw so much information at us and what sticks, sticks. But I’ve been meeting people and wandering around and just trying to get my surroundings.

Beijing, this is not.

Amusingly, if not surprisingly, I am having a much harder time adjusting to life here than I had in the first couple days in Beijing, Maybe it’s cause I knew the routine better over there and really expected the worse, but there are some Beijing mannerisms that I can’t shake. Like what? Oh, I don’t see the need to wait until everyone empties out of the subway car so I can use it, waiting in line is for wimps…just the Chinese mentality of entitlement.

Yesterday, Sarah and I were walking on Avenue George V, when we saw some barricades. I looked at the building it was surrounding and to my surprise, saw the lovely red symbol I have grown to love. I didn’t have to look at the sign to the side to realize where I was…for those who haven’t figure it out, it was the Chinese embassy! I’m kinda surprised as to why there is so much barricading around it, but whatever. Not totally surprising.

This post would be better if there were photos...sigh...

Bonjour!

2009-01-11T17:23:00.000+01:00

Why Hello, there. Where are you reading this from, dear reader? Well, if you ask, I am writing this from inside my room in the palace, aka where I am staying.

Yes.

Well, no. It's not really a palace, but this probably is the same size room as what I would get at MHC, and this apartment is HUGE!

I am in the 7th arrondisement (it's classy) and am walkable to almost every major Parisian landmark you might have heard of.
What about the Eiffel Tower, you might ask? Oh that thing? Yea, 5 minutes around the corner.

It's gonna be tough, let me tell you. Good thing I did Beijing --> Paris, and not the other way around.

The family seems nice, I just don't know how to integrate with them, besides at meals. It's a very "closed door" society...so we'll see how that works out, but they seem nice and try to engage me at dinner. (You try engaging me at 9.30 PM the first night and see how that works out for you...I'm not nasty...but I started off in Chinese. Oh jeeze.)

Otherwise, all is well here so far and will post more tomorrow!

My Bags Are Packed, I'm Ready To Go...

2009-01-09T03:13:00.001+01:00

...kinda?

I was going to take photos of the packing process and then realized that would be totally overwhelming.

So, trust me when I say that packing is not an enjoyable process and I have almost an entire suitcase dedicated to shoes. But, both suitcases are loaded up in the car, and we will be ready to roll out tomorrow morning at a bright an early 7.30 AM in order to make it to Washington-Dulles by 1 pm. (Sweet Briar flies out everyone out of Dulles 'cause SB is based in VA. I'm not too pleased.)

Anyway, this post isn't so much a post about me bitching to leave, but looking fondly back at the really ridiculously short 3.5 weeks I spent at home in between Beijing and Paris.

Basically, if I was not eating, sleeping, shopping or seeing people I doing this:

(That's Kate, Heather's pony)

Or watching this:(Heather and Riley in "Battle of the Wills: Quiche.")

I'm sad to go, but excited to start on a new adventure.

...and when I say excited, add in nervous/apprehensive too...
Let's not lie, Paris will be a totally different ballgame than Beijing.

I don't know what the internet situation will be at my homestay, but I should have internet at the SB Paris Headquaters come Monday.

A Brief Photo History, Starring the Eiffel Tower

2009-01-05T04:12:00.000+01:00

Me, Aged 3, First Trip to Paris

Me, Aged 16, 5th (?) Trip to Paris

Returning on Friday to the city that told me it was OK to eat foie gras everyday(...oh wait, no, that was Lyon...), in order to further my gastronomical education. Oops, I mean, further my academic eduction...