This evening I went to a fashion show--the real kind. It was in a modern art museum, peopled with twelve-mile-tall girls (one of whom was either pretending to be Asian or a giant), women in garments entirely constructed of violet feathers, and men who obviously have miniscule dogs in Dior sweatervests which they carry around in Louis Vuitton murses. It was just like I always thought a real fashion show would be, in that they played absurdly epic techno with little bleepy robot noises thrown in every now and then for good measure, and also in that you had to have an invitation on artfully crinkled paper of an irridescent taupe color. Although to be honest I don't think the invite counted for too much since Emily was the only one of us who had one and we still managed to get 4 seats. The gowns alternated between light pinks and blues, white, and intense-banana-yellow, and they were all generously rhinestoned. Not necessarily anything I would wear, no matter how fancy the occasion, but it was still really impressive to see them strutting down the runway on the skinniest women I have ever seen in my life.
All this balanced out the fact that I had probably the worst headache I have ever had today--I thought my sinuses might explode, but luckily they didn't. Would've been fairly embarrassing in front of all those fashion people.
Started Grammar and Paris Multiculturelle today. Grammar was the same as always, and Paris Multiculturelle was passable. It's really my only choice, so I'll end up keeping it no matter what, probably. Unfortunately we're supposed to find and read a book for the class by Thursday, but when I asked for it at Gilbert Joseph, the big bookstore around here, the salespeople laughed and asked "Are you in the class too?" Apparently they only had two copies to begin with, and some of our classmates managed to snag them basically minutes before we got there. Which is cool, because I obviously have time to go on an epic Parisian book-hunt.
After a minor catastrophe (which seemed like a major catastrophe when it happened), I'm now not taking American Modernism at l'Institut du Monde Anglophone. I found out late last night that the professor is sick and won't be able to teach for awhile--apparently not something anyone found it necessary to inform the students of--so I had to switch courses.
Also, I forgot to mention my other marvelous French milestone! Okay, so we have cards called NaviGo's which allow us to use the metro, RER and buses in Paris and Ile de France. Every time you go through the turn styles or get on the bus we (that is, the green American students) have to rummage around to dig them out of our bags, pockets or wherever else they've been stuffed. However, all the Parisians do this cool thing where they simply swipe their handbag (or murse) over the little scanner and somehow, probably because they're French, it works. I remember trying to do this in my first days in Paris and, because I am not French, I ended up with bruised hips from running into the still-locked bar. BUT! Last Thursday night as we were sortir-ing for Hannah's birthday and Maggie's last night in Paris, I gave it another try. And, hallelujah, IT ACTUALLY WORKED. It is beside the point that on the return trip it totally failed and I got nicely re-bruised. For one metro ride at least, I was a Parisian in my heart, because of my crafty bag-swiping abilities.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Deuxieme semestre is looming, but at least I have ice cream.
Yesterday was a historic day in that I actually cooked something. I also touched raw chicken in the process, which is a milestone of a completely different, much nastier nature. Nevertheless I marinated chicken, cooked it, and managed to make nimchows, with the help of many vegetable-chopping, garlic-mincing, broccoli-sauteing, noodle-making elves. They turned out really well despite the fact that the sauce was totally different--the asian guy at the market refused to sell me the real spicy chilis, because I am obviously too white to know what to do with them. And actually I can't really argue with his reasoning--I probably would've found some way to injure myself and/or others with their powers of spicy. Either way, nimchows were had along with delicious broccoli and curry noodles (courtesy of the cooking abilities of Hannah and Kristin). Then there were brownies and Atonement, along with some French twists, some declarations of love, and other entertaining activities.
The second semester starts this week, and I have to admit I'm way more disturbed than I should be by the fact that, uh, there is no break between the finals we JUST took and the new classes. My brain cannot handle the immediate transition, and even though my finals were really not bad at all I feel like I need another vacation. Not because I'm desperately in need of one, but because I need to be able to mentally seperate one semester from the next. Oh, France, why must you wreak havoc with my nicely-conditioned American mind?
On Friday we had some kind of little excursion in Paris where we followed Laurent, our tour guide, around and listened to him talk about the super old and cool covered passageways that date back to who knows when. I guess *I* would know when if I had been listening, but Laurent's habit of standing in front of shop windows full of gorgeous vintage dresses (which obviously cost more than my life) while he was talking didn't really allow me to focus. At all. But if anyone wants to buy me an eight hundred euro backless pink dress I can totally hook you up with the address where one might find such a ravishing garment. You know, in case you were wondering. The good news is that we also got a free lunch out of the excursion, and that afterwards we headed to Galleries Lafayette to try on some of the most ridiculous hats ever created, not to mention to let some saleswoman stick a hairclip (which like many other things mentioned in this post, cost more than my life) in my hair--"just to see," because apparently she mistook me for someone who has that kind of money to throw away on feathery, bejewelled headware.
So, despite my mental unpreparedness, the second semester will be starting tomorrow (well, technically Tuesday because yet again I don't have Monday classes (evil genius, I know)). Wish me luck, and also wish me some more will power because I definitely found taro ice cream in the chinese grocery store and I don't doubt my capacity to eat all of it in a very short amount of time.
The second semester starts this week, and I have to admit I'm way more disturbed than I should be by the fact that, uh, there is no break between the finals we JUST took and the new classes. My brain cannot handle the immediate transition, and even though my finals were really not bad at all I feel like I need another vacation. Not because I'm desperately in need of one, but because I need to be able to mentally seperate one semester from the next. Oh, France, why must you wreak havoc with my nicely-conditioned American mind?
On Friday we had some kind of little excursion in Paris where we followed Laurent, our tour guide, around and listened to him talk about the super old and cool covered passageways that date back to who knows when. I guess *I* would know when if I had been listening, but Laurent's habit of standing in front of shop windows full of gorgeous vintage dresses (which obviously cost more than my life) while he was talking didn't really allow me to focus. At all. But if anyone wants to buy me an eight hundred euro backless pink dress I can totally hook you up with the address where one might find such a ravishing garment. You know, in case you were wondering. The good news is that we also got a free lunch out of the excursion, and that afterwards we headed to Galleries Lafayette to try on some of the most ridiculous hats ever created, not to mention to let some saleswoman stick a hairclip (which like many other things mentioned in this post, cost more than my life) in my hair--"just to see," because apparently she mistook me for someone who has that kind of money to throw away on feathery, bejewelled headware.
So, despite my mental unpreparedness, the second semester will be starting tomorrow (well, technically Tuesday because yet again I don't have Monday classes (evil genius, I know)). Wish me luck, and also wish me some more will power because I definitely found taro ice cream in the chinese grocery store and I don't doubt my capacity to eat all of it in a very short amount of time.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
WHAT TIME IS IT?
BARACK O'CLOCK!
And that's really all I have to say about that. It's astounding and sad that, up until this point, I have never been able to be proud to be an American because of something that's happened in my lifetime. But now I guess we can start making up for lost time. Because as Hilary says, this country's got a fever, and the only cure is BARACK OBAMA.
And more cowbell, because who doesn't love more cowbell?
Anyway, I cut off all my hair again, only this time it's shorter and French-er. Pictures to come, when I figure out how to put them on this blog. The hair-cutting-lady is amazing; she basically comes at you in a flurry of snippy scissors, pinning and unpinning and repinning different parts of your hair. It's kind of intimidating, but she clearly knows what she's doing. When I told her that I wanted my hair short, she said "Oh no, not too short. That wouldn't be pretty on you." Possibly harsh, but absolutely true. That's the thing (well, one of the things) I love about France--no one, no matter what they're trying to sell you, will ever let you go away looking ugly. If you're in a store trying something on and you ask the sales person their opinion, they will give it to you. Even if that opinion is "Oh no, that doesn't go at all, don't buy it!" (which I have actually witnessed before). The priority is clearly to keep everyone looking their best (presumably so nobody has to suffer looking at ugly people on a daily basis) even if that means not making a profit on them. And I have to say, considering the number of above-averagely attractive people around here, it's working.
Anyway, today we had some weird little fete with French students from this engineering school in Paris. It was mostly guys with a few girls thrown in there, but as Madame Stevens said (like eight times) that is NOT the reason we were meeting them. Obviously. But it was nice if a little awkward, and I made a really short and hilarious Moroccan friend whose name I definitely cannot pronounce. But I don't feel bad, because when I said my name his first try was "Fanny?" and then after the second, slower repetition, "Mary?" I'm just going to start telling people my name is Marie-Antoinette and save myself the headache. We played a weird question-answering game where our team (me, Kristin, Moroccan boy, cinema-liking-boy, and other-boy) definitely did not win because we were too busy trying to figure out what Moroccan boy's favorite movie was--it turned out to be Shawshank Redemption, but since the French title has absolutely nothing to do with the American one it took us a long time to realize what he meant.
My theatre exam today was ridiculously easy in a write-about-whatever-you-want-while-the-prof-goes-outside-to-smoke kind of way. The phonetics exam on Tuesday wasn't bad either, aside from the part where I had to learn the phonetic alphabet all at once because I obviously did not do it earlier in the semester. And the literature eam was alright; not necessarily any better or worse than I thought it would be, but annoying nonetheless. Tomorrow is grammar which I should probably be studying for, but alas I am reveling in my new hair and purple (fake)leather jacket. Yeah I know, but it's the sales and I can't help it. Don't worry though, I have a new money-saving plan. Unfortunately it involves sacrificing the thing I felt was most easily left off in my regular expenses--food! Just kidding. But not really. I clearly need a purple leather jacket more than I need to buy lunch, especially when I can steal yogurt from home and eat that. We'll see how that goes.
In other news, Hannah and I are signed up for a creative writing workshop at Shakespeare & Co. because we are obviously literary smarty-pantses. Or because we're too nerdy to stay away. Or both, whatever. But it doesn't start until March, so we've got awhile to go (read as: we've got awhile to prepare something we actually want people who are (possibly) serious about writing to read and not think we're morons).
In other other news which is in fact not so new or different, it's almost nine o'clock and I have not yet eaten dinner. Damnit, France, if only you got hungry on a normal schedule.
And that's really all I have to say about that. It's astounding and sad that, up until this point, I have never been able to be proud to be an American because of something that's happened in my lifetime. But now I guess we can start making up for lost time. Because as Hilary says, this country's got a fever, and the only cure is BARACK OBAMA.
And more cowbell, because who doesn't love more cowbell?
Anyway, I cut off all my hair again, only this time it's shorter and French-er. Pictures to come, when I figure out how to put them on this blog. The hair-cutting-lady is amazing; she basically comes at you in a flurry of snippy scissors, pinning and unpinning and repinning different parts of your hair. It's kind of intimidating, but she clearly knows what she's doing. When I told her that I wanted my hair short, she said "Oh no, not too short. That wouldn't be pretty on you." Possibly harsh, but absolutely true. That's the thing (well, one of the things) I love about France--no one, no matter what they're trying to sell you, will ever let you go away looking ugly. If you're in a store trying something on and you ask the sales person their opinion, they will give it to you. Even if that opinion is "Oh no, that doesn't go at all, don't buy it!" (which I have actually witnessed before). The priority is clearly to keep everyone looking their best (presumably so nobody has to suffer looking at ugly people on a daily basis) even if that means not making a profit on them. And I have to say, considering the number of above-averagely attractive people around here, it's working.
Anyway, today we had some weird little fete with French students from this engineering school in Paris. It was mostly guys with a few girls thrown in there, but as Madame Stevens said (like eight times) that is NOT the reason we were meeting them. Obviously. But it was nice if a little awkward, and I made a really short and hilarious Moroccan friend whose name I definitely cannot pronounce. But I don't feel bad, because when I said my name his first try was "Fanny?" and then after the second, slower repetition, "Mary?" I'm just going to start telling people my name is Marie-Antoinette and save myself the headache. We played a weird question-answering game where our team (me, Kristin, Moroccan boy, cinema-liking-boy, and other-boy) definitely did not win because we were too busy trying to figure out what Moroccan boy's favorite movie was--it turned out to be Shawshank Redemption, but since the French title has absolutely nothing to do with the American one it took us a long time to realize what he meant.
My theatre exam today was ridiculously easy in a write-about-whatever-you-want-while-the-prof-goes-outside-to-smoke kind of way. The phonetics exam on Tuesday wasn't bad either, aside from the part where I had to learn the phonetic alphabet all at once because I obviously did not do it earlier in the semester. And the literature eam was alright; not necessarily any better or worse than I thought it would be, but annoying nonetheless. Tomorrow is grammar which I should probably be studying for, but alas I am reveling in my new hair and purple (fake)leather jacket. Yeah I know, but it's the sales and I can't help it. Don't worry though, I have a new money-saving plan. Unfortunately it involves sacrificing the thing I felt was most easily left off in my regular expenses--food! Just kidding. But not really. I clearly need a purple leather jacket more than I need to buy lunch, especially when I can steal yogurt from home and eat that. We'll see how that goes.
In other news, Hannah and I are signed up for a creative writing workshop at Shakespeare & Co. because we are obviously literary smarty-pantses. Or because we're too nerdy to stay away. Or both, whatever. But it doesn't start until March, so we've got awhile to go (read as: we've got awhile to prepare something we actually want people who are (possibly) serious about writing to read and not think we're morons).
In other other news which is in fact not so new or different, it's almost nine o'clock and I have not yet eaten dinner. Damnit, France, if only you got hungry on a normal schedule.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Keep in mind that I am not exaggerating at all...
So just now I was sitting in the kitchen with Valerie and Edouard drinking this weird tissan that apparently makes you lose weight (because, you know, that's what we do), and I looked at Edouard and said "You know The Lion King?" He said "Yes..." and in .02 seconds we had both burst out with the whole crazy swahili Circle-of-Life-NAAA SIVENYA BABAGIIIISIMOMO!thing. Because evidently some things are transatlantic, translinguistic, and transcultural. And it turns out that The Lion King is one of them.
It's not universal though, because Valerie only decided that we had managed to surpass the level of stupid at which she had previously assessed us. Whatever, I love The Lion King.
It's not universal though, because Valerie only decided that we had managed to surpass the level of stupid at which she had previously assessed us. Whatever, I love The Lion King.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
J'attends toujours pour la neige!
Tonight for theatre I saw Minetti, the third-worst play I have ever seen. The first- and second- worst being L'Echange and Fin du partie, both of which I also saw for theatre. Let us connect les dots, shall we?
I thought a theatre class would be great, no matter how grueling the 3-hour lectures, because hello--FREE theatre tickets! The course catalogue failed to mention that every single play, excluding Le Mariage du Figaro (which was excellent) would be AWFUL. To be fair, Tartuffe was a wonderful play which was sadly murdered by horrible art direction (and regular direction, too), and then there was La Cirque invisible which was geared toward kids. How the professor didn't know this I'm not really sure, but I won't take points away for that. But the last three plays have been out-and-out terrible, not because they aren't intelligent pieces of literature, but because they aren't anything that normal people in France WANT to go see, let alone foreign students who are A) FOREIGN and have a hard time with language as it is, and B) STUDENTS and not "theatre people" who are going to appreciate some old guy blathering about Lear for hours and being as un-entertaining as possible, or some obnoxious shrieky woman fainting about like an idiot.
Really, what I'm most disappointed in is the fact that I waited all night to see a cool fake snow special effect that the prof promised us would happen, only to have it NOT HAPPEN. Because apparently in France changing the ending of the play completely is okay. This would be a lot like doing Romeo and Juliet but leaving out the part where, uh, THEY BOTH DIE AND IT SUCKS.
Okay, I'm over it now.
In other news, we are officially going to Florence for February break! We got our (36 euro) Ryanair tickets today and booked a hostel for the night we have to spend in Pisa once we get in. I'm voting to stay in a convent in Florence, mainly because I know I could find endless pleasure in skipping through the halls singing "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" at the top of my shrill, atonal voice. Not that I would do that or anything. Actually, I totally would do that--I'm free to embarrass myself in European countries where I do not reside, and that means Italy!
This past weekend was spent writing my dissertation for literature, watching Down With Love, and making a million cheese sandwiches (and my own warped version of the mango-brie panini). Next weekend will be spent studying for finals, replacing Down With Love with The Duchess and/or Blazing Saddles, and hopefully eating a little less cheese. I'm not sure I can handle that again. I also think I mgiht get my hair trimmed again because it insists on growing like a beast and Valerie decided "la coiffure" would be my Christmas present.
Also, today I discovered the joy that is Bananagrams. And let me tell you, it is the nerdiest and most satisfying game I have ever played. So basically ou get little tiles like in scrabble, except they come from a banana-shaped bag, and you make your own little crossword puzzle and whoever finishes all the letters first wins. Well, with a few banana terms and other rules thrown in. We played it at Reid Hall and then at Linnaea's appartment (where we had a little pumpkin-pie eating, cookie making, going away party for Linnaea because she's leaving on Friday).
I really have nothing else interesting to say except that Valerie keeps buying chocolate because, even though she is on a diet, I think she wants to fatten me up for some mysterious reason which may or may not involve roasting and eating me. That's okay, at least I'll have nice hair before she does.
I thought a theatre class would be great, no matter how grueling the 3-hour lectures, because hello--FREE theatre tickets! The course catalogue failed to mention that every single play, excluding Le Mariage du Figaro (which was excellent) would be AWFUL. To be fair, Tartuffe was a wonderful play which was sadly murdered by horrible art direction (and regular direction, too), and then there was La Cirque invisible which was geared toward kids. How the professor didn't know this I'm not really sure, but I won't take points away for that. But the last three plays have been out-and-out terrible, not because they aren't intelligent pieces of literature, but because they aren't anything that normal people in France WANT to go see, let alone foreign students who are A) FOREIGN and have a hard time with language as it is, and B) STUDENTS and not "theatre people" who are going to appreciate some old guy blathering about Lear for hours and being as un-entertaining as possible, or some obnoxious shrieky woman fainting about like an idiot.
Really, what I'm most disappointed in is the fact that I waited all night to see a cool fake snow special effect that the prof promised us would happen, only to have it NOT HAPPEN. Because apparently in France changing the ending of the play completely is okay. This would be a lot like doing Romeo and Juliet but leaving out the part where, uh, THEY BOTH DIE AND IT SUCKS.
Okay, I'm over it now.
In other news, we are officially going to Florence for February break! We got our (36 euro) Ryanair tickets today and booked a hostel for the night we have to spend in Pisa once we get in. I'm voting to stay in a convent in Florence, mainly because I know I could find endless pleasure in skipping through the halls singing "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" at the top of my shrill, atonal voice. Not that I would do that or anything. Actually, I totally would do that--I'm free to embarrass myself in European countries where I do not reside, and that means Italy!
This past weekend was spent writing my dissertation for literature, watching Down With Love, and making a million cheese sandwiches (and my own warped version of the mango-brie panini). Next weekend will be spent studying for finals, replacing Down With Love with The Duchess and/or Blazing Saddles, and hopefully eating a little less cheese. I'm not sure I can handle that again. I also think I mgiht get my hair trimmed again because it insists on growing like a beast and Valerie decided "la coiffure" would be my Christmas present.
Also, today I discovered the joy that is Bananagrams. And let me tell you, it is the nerdiest and most satisfying game I have ever played. So basically ou get little tiles like in scrabble, except they come from a banana-shaped bag, and you make your own little crossword puzzle and whoever finishes all the letters first wins. Well, with a few banana terms and other rules thrown in. We played it at Reid Hall and then at Linnaea's appartment (where we had a little pumpkin-pie eating, cookie making, going away party for Linnaea because she's leaving on Friday).
I really have nothing else interesting to say except that Valerie keeps buying chocolate because, even though she is on a diet, I think she wants to fatten me up for some mysterious reason which may or may not involve roasting and eating me. That's okay, at least I'll have nice hair before she does.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Uh
PS now there is apparently no hot water in my building? Which is really chouette considering I didn't shower this morning on account of not wanting my head to become one gigantic BLOCK OF ICE when I went outside. And now I can't, unless I want my whole BODY to become one gigantic block of ice. Thanks France, I love being dirty and cold at the SAME time.
FOU FOU FOU!
Today was the first day of the biannual sales which, because of French law (that's right--laws! for shopping!) happen every year in January and June. All the stores (and I mean all of them) have huge markdowns and basically everyone in the country (and probably twice as many foreigners) goes on a shopping spree. In a lot of cases the markdowns don't help because the stuff is so expensive in the first place, but it's the thought that counts, right?
So after theatre, Ellen, Leah, Linnaea and I hustled over to rue de Rennes. The first thing we saw were huge signs saying "FOU FOU FOU!" (fou = crazy). And let me tell you, that is exactly what it was. Hoards of people, pretty much all of them with an H&M bag or five, pushing and shoving and only vaguely mumbling a "pardon" once in awhile, if someone happened to fall underfoot. We only managed to cover H&M and Zara, but I got two dresses and a sweater for less than 40 euro. Which is pretty insane, for France at least. Sadly, the colorful pompom flats at Zara were not on sale, otherwise I would have some.
But my experiences with les soldes have yet to finish! We're going again on Friday, so there's more to come on the shopping madness front.
On a sidenote, it is fait-ing SUPER froid here. Yesterday, and a little less so today, it was positively painful to have exposed extremities for any amount of time. I'm pretty surprised that I still have ears. But tomorrow is another day, and I wouldn't put it past the Paris cold to freeze them off in due time. We shall see.
So after theatre, Ellen, Leah, Linnaea and I hustled over to rue de Rennes. The first thing we saw were huge signs saying "FOU FOU FOU!" (fou = crazy). And let me tell you, that is exactly what it was. Hoards of people, pretty much all of them with an H&M bag or five, pushing and shoving and only vaguely mumbling a "pardon" once in awhile, if someone happened to fall underfoot. We only managed to cover H&M and Zara, but I got two dresses and a sweater for less than 40 euro. Which is pretty insane, for France at least. Sadly, the colorful pompom flats at Zara were not on sale, otherwise I would have some.
But my experiences with les soldes have yet to finish! We're going again on Friday, so there's more to come on the shopping madness front.
On a sidenote, it is fait-ing SUPER froid here. Yesterday, and a little less so today, it was positively painful to have exposed extremities for any amount of time. I'm pretty surprised that I still have ears. But tomorrow is another day, and I wouldn't put it past the Paris cold to freeze them off in due time. We shall see.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
I love Paris in the rain, I love Paris in the rain, I love Paris in the rain
Not really.
After nearly a month of blog-less-ness I'm back. I'm also back to inventing words, in case that wasn't evident. I had a fabulous two weeks of freezing New England snowstorms, Christmas cookies, and general insanity which I enjoyed very much. I got an amazing pink camera so I can take BILLIONS of horrible pictures of France. I know you're all really excited about it. Had some good parties, saw some great movies, had some fantastically hilarious discussions and lots of really amazing food.
And now I'm back to Paris where it's fait-ing super froid. It's not colder than it was at home, but somehow it still seems absurdly freezing. I got back yesterday, slept at the hotel with my mom for a few hours, then went to dinner on rue Mouf. Then I slept until almost 2 today (by accident) and unpacked. Valerie is horrified that I've already managed to mess up my nice clean room with all my crap. Clearly she just underestimates my messing-up capabilities.
I decided that I have to stop eating so much unhealthy food, and then I promptly ate a bowl of chocolate cereal for breakfast. Or lunch, I guess. There's also saucisson and fig-nut-raisin cheese in my kitchen, so we'll see how that goes. Ha.
Tomorrow we have a (totally pointless) meeting at Reid Hall, then I'm going to exchange the boots Valerie gave me for Christmas for something that doesn't make me look like a magical pirate elf. They're beautiful, but they look silly on me. Then maybe I'll start studying for finals and preparing myself to start classes with (gasp!) REAL French people! Or maybe I'll just wander around and take pictures of everything ever. Bahaha!
After nearly a month of blog-less-ness I'm back. I'm also back to inventing words, in case that wasn't evident. I had a fabulous two weeks of freezing New England snowstorms, Christmas cookies, and general insanity which I enjoyed very much. I got an amazing pink camera so I can take BILLIONS of horrible pictures of France. I know you're all really excited about it. Had some good parties, saw some great movies, had some fantastically hilarious discussions and lots of really amazing food.
And now I'm back to Paris where it's fait-ing super froid. It's not colder than it was at home, but somehow it still seems absurdly freezing. I got back yesterday, slept at the hotel with my mom for a few hours, then went to dinner on rue Mouf. Then I slept until almost 2 today (by accident) and unpacked. Valerie is horrified that I've already managed to mess up my nice clean room with all my crap. Clearly she just underestimates my messing-up capabilities.
I decided that I have to stop eating so much unhealthy food, and then I promptly ate a bowl of chocolate cereal for breakfast. Or lunch, I guess. There's also saucisson and fig-nut-raisin cheese in my kitchen, so we'll see how that goes. Ha.
Tomorrow we have a (totally pointless) meeting at Reid Hall, then I'm going to exchange the boots Valerie gave me for Christmas for something that doesn't make me look like a magical pirate elf. They're beautiful, but they look silly on me. Then maybe I'll start studying for finals and preparing myself to start classes with (gasp!) REAL French people! Or maybe I'll just wander around and take pictures of everything ever. Bahaha!
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