I'll just start by saying that three hours is WAY TOO FREAKING LONG FOR A CLASS. I know my classes at Skidmore were 3 hours long (and 3 times a week), but those were workshops. Thus, they were interesting. I do not want to discuss the conventions of theatre for three hours, especially when those conventions consist of "YOU SIT IN CHAIR," "YOU WATCH PLAY," "ACTORS ARE IN THE PLAY," "THERE IS A CURTAIN" etc. etc. Je veux mourrir.

Anyways.

Yesterday was my first day of classes, and it went as follows:

Litterature Francaise - unremarkable. The professor is apparently insane because she made us write a few paragraphs on a Saint Exupery quote on the first day, when she must know very well that we are A) idiots and B) not prepared to write paragraphs without a dictionary. Nutjob. But other than that she seemed nice, and we're starting with Baudelaire which should be fun. Especially since Valerie bought me the book (Le Spleen de Paris) as a present.

Also, the prof handed out these little info sheets (name, address, have you ever been to Paris before, etc.) and since I couldn't read it she made me just tell her the answers so she could write them down. The only problem being that the next few questions were "Name some great French literary works" which wasn't hard, and "And the century in which they were written" which was way harder than it should have been. Also, it wasn't fair because then the rest of the class just copied what I said (I know this because they told me, not because I am jumping to conclusions).

Grammaire - is going to be my favorite class, despite my hatred for and suckage at said subject. The woman is hilarious and really friendly, and she'll go on tangents whenever she gets the chance to explain the correct pronunciation or etymology of, or "the Parisian way to do" something.

Phonetique - is ridiculous. Right now we're learning the international phonetic alphabet (with all its incomprehensible symbols). While I can see where that is useful, I still can't really be interested in it. However, the prof is completely crazy--we played a game that involved yelling everyone's name and waving our arms as if we were throwing things into the trashcan in order to demonstrate how the emphasis is always on the last syllable of a name in French. Yes.

Paris Theatre - better get more interesting. The prof seems nice (she also seems to be younger than me, but I'm hoping that's just an illusion). The short version of what I think of this class is that I'm not switching out because I want to go to the Comedie Francaise for free. And that's all I need to say.

This morning I went to the library to see if they had Le Spleen de Paris so I wouldn't have to buy it, but after pretending like I knew what the librarian was saying for like 10 minutes I eventually realized that it was checked out and I would have to wait until Oct. 16th, which is our last class dedicated to the book. Boo. But then, since the library is on rue Mouffetard, I went and bought a petit baguette and a pain au chocolat (for 1.35...AHAHA I love my life). Then I came home and made myself a sandwich with said baguette and some boursin cheese and saucisson. And then I ate the pain au chocolat because I LOVE FOOD.

And, since Emma pointed out that this blog is 1/3 food related, I'm just going to go ahead and up that shit to 2/3 BECAUSE I CAN. And because I want to talk about the only negative thing about French food--the part where the roof of my mouth just behind my front teeth wants to die every time I eat a baguette sandwich...which is like every other day. Damnit. I hope it will toughen up and act like a man soon, because I don't think even a bleeding mouth will keep me from eating the aforementioned baguettes. They are too delicious. Also, I desperately want to go to Angelina's for chocolat africainne and a mont blanc, because I had some only-mildly-delicious chocolat chaud yesterday when I went to lunch with some kids, and it made me crave the melted-block-of-pure-chocolate that is Angelina's chocolat chaud. Plus, I can always go for a ball of chantilly whipped cream the size of my head. Actually, I think I can eat it only once every 5 years or something, but whatevs. On another food related note, I desperately want to try a cuisse (even though I don't know what cuisse means) of the rottisserie chickens on rue Mouffetard. They look so delicious and full of tasty drippings. Which sounds so incredibly nasty, but isn't, I swear.

Lastly, where can I get a pumpkin in France? Because I am hell-bent on buying one and making a jack-o-lantern for Valerie. Even though she won't know what it is. And even though she will probably think I have created an altar to satan and placed it upon her windowsill. I DON'T CARE. Maybe I'll get a beret for it and she'll like it better. And carve a curly moustache on it. Bahaha.