Birthday & Thoughts on Ecriture (ironically typed)

(our road trip map, see Compiègne up top and Reims to the right? and Paris of course, that was our triangle of travel)


(view from someplace we stopped along the way to change drivers)


(cathedrale de Braine)


(hôtel de ville city hall of Compiègne, Joan of Arc came here to rally troops)

Lundi 5/4/10 (transferred from my normal paper journal)
I just went on a beautiful road trip yesterday. I had an amazing birthday in general. The notes on the other page are our directions outa Paris, written haphazardly in a librairie (book store) at Charles De Gaul (the airport where we rented a car from), so we'd only have to buy one map - a bigger one with less banlieu (suburban) details. The flower on the next page was in my hair all day through Compiègne, Reims, and Champagne country, and the song of the trip fits perfectly with it. The radio station we could get the best was like straight up club music all day, which was kinda funny considering we were driving through rainy countryside and medieval towns, but it made it like a party everywhere we went haha. Anywho, somebody decided to put that 60s song with the line "if you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair" to club music! It was the most ridiculous song, with the crazy deep bassline behind such a chill set of lyrics. We thought it was hilarious so it became the trip song. The trip was frickin beautiful though, we got to see a bunch of towns Joan of Arc saw on her travels, and the cathedral in Reims where the kings were always crowned, and then drove up into this field and had sandwiches on a hill of grapevines and saw the sunset over an unbelievable view! My camera died halfway so I'll have to snag some pics from Martha n Alex.

(view from the hill where we had our sandwiches)
I wish I could write about everything! Gah, there's just never enough time and I have so much shit I wanna record, well here's somethin I've been thinkin about


Thoughts on Ecriture
I bought this pen (a sweet fountain pen) not long ago, mostly because you can erase it (German technology I in fact make sparse use of), but I've since fallen in love. I feel like I'll hang on to this pen cuz it's so cool, and you can refill the ink, and it'll have some longevity in my life unlike most small quotidien (daily or common) items. The angle of the tip gives it some personality and for the first time I feel right writing in cursive - a long lost art thanks to computers, poor elementary education, and character-less, mass-produced pens.
Laura and I somehow got into discussing Parisian revolutionary history the other day and when she opened her notebook to validate her claim of Louis-Philippe's maintenance of the pre-1830 monarchical methods. I noticed her handwriting had changed like mine into cursive at the point of purchasing a fountain pen. Cursive can be frickin beautiful.
Just one more thing to love about europe. In the states it's almost impossible to find these pens, whereas here they're everywhere you'd find pens - monoprix, librairies, and there's a whole frickin floor devoted to pens in Gilbert Joseph on St. Michel! In the states we have no erasable pen worth mentioning and we've lost the feel for cursive. No one can even read it anymore. Thanks to computers no one can read most handwriting anymore and it's truly a shame. So much personality and life can go into the written word. It was central to academic/intellectual life in a way we can't understand post-computer-ubiquity.

Reading literature lately has been fulfilling my spiritual lackings a great deal. My good friend Vicky Hugs has a lovely section of Notre Dame de Paris about the transition into life with a printing press. He's a genius of course and had a perspective I'd never really considered before. Architecture was the greatest means of mass communication and self-expression pre-printing-press. P. 161 "chaque face, chaque pierre du vénérable monument est une page non seulement de l'histoire du pays, mais encore de l'histoire de la science et de l'art." (each face, each stone of the venerable monument is a page not only of the history of our country, but also of the history of science and art.)

(Inside Notre Dame de Paris)
Of course he emphasizes his subject and the medieval time period he so Romantically respects. It's cool to look at the building like that though, of course there's loads more explanations, but I won't bore you. You should just go read it again, unabridged, in french...

ok one more cool quote - parisian houses like water. P. 166 "Les maisons se pressent, s'accumulent et haussent leur niveau dans le bassin comme l'eau dans un reservoir. Elles commencent à devinir profondes, elles mettent étages sur étages... les maisons enfin sautent par-dessus le Mur de Philippe-Auguste, et s'éparpillent joyeusement dans la plaine sans ordre et tout de travers, comme des échappées." (The houses press against one another, accumulate and raise their level in the basin like water in a reservoir. They start to become deep, the put floor upon floor... the houses finally jump over the wall of Philippe-Auguste (built in the 11oos), and scatter themselves joyously in the plain without order and by all means, like freedmen.)


(cathedrale de reims)

sick in Tuileries/Parc Montsouris

7/4/10 (transferred from paper)
I'm sitting in the Jardin des Tuileries right now on a bench on a lovely day - a little grey but nice and warm and there's a cute little black bird taking a bath in a puddle behind me and loads of tourists walking to and fro. I'm a little dizzy still form the sickness, but I spent the whole damn day and night in bed yesterday and I'd rather chill somewhere different today.
I spent a little while trying to find a park with internet and most the way from 93 St. Michel (where our IPP classes are) to Place des Vosges (where I know they have internet) I decided I'd rather find a park I'd be comfortable in. I'm sick, and I wanna lay in the grass in the sun and be happy. However, Paris sucks sometimes and has rules up the ass unnecessarily and you can never sit on the fuckin pelouse (grass). I came to a big central park thinking maybe I could find a corner, but I'm tired of walking and a bench will just have to do.

It's definitely cool to say I'm in the Jardin des Tuileries. I can see the Louvre off to the left, Place de la Concorde to the right, and the Musée d'Orsay across the river. i can think about the Palais de Tuileries which once stood here-ish and how it was torn down in the 1848? revolution. I can even think of the millions who've walked here - royals, revolutionaries, celebrities, common parisians, and tourists. I can think of the many lives and stories associated with this place. But I'm sick and all I keep thinking about is how it wouldn't be a big deal to wake the pelouse. (the signs saying the grass is forbidden say "pelouse en repos" or "the grass is resting")
I could go back to good old Montsouris where they have both internet and spots to lay on the grass. Not yet though, I've not patience for the metro and no conscience to walk it.
What the hell gives them the idea this is a park? It's like 80% gravel and there's someone trying to sell you something every 10 ft. I guess it's a jardin, not a parc, but still...
Ough, some jackass just hit me with his sac en plastique while he walked by. Why

Later
He came back as I was writing that last sentence and sat down right behind me, so I promptly packed my shit and left. Guys fuckin suck here. What would give you the idea that it's ok to do that? To treat a woman like a piece of shit and then you expect her to fawn on you or something? That's clearly why he came back, knowing he'd snagged my attention, surely the only thing I could possibly be thinking is how to jump is bones and he made it so convenient for me to talk to him! Fuck you jackass!
I don't trust anyone here. After I left the Tuileries I took the RER B down to Montsouris and now I've found a nice spot on a hill where I can sit in the grass. I can get internet if I want, and there's honestly a lovelier arrangement and collection of trees and flowers here. I think I'm under an oak tree and little ones are springing up at its roots. Down the hill is an arrangement of impatiens(?) and a cherry tree in full blossom. Over to my right is a lovely patch of daffodils, although most the blossoms are gone. It's gettin on that time of spring already... For as quick as it does grow, it decays away so soon, before the summer sunshine has reached its golden noon, before the summer sunshine has reached its golden noon.

Anywho, so I layed on this hill and read a little more Hemingway before I started writing and I stopped because some guy who'd been chillin down the hill from me got up and walked entirely too close to my head.
What kind of world is this where you're never safe and where people aren't even people anymore. they're ok being creepy transitory assholes. Maybe it's just my experience as a woman. It's a different world I experience. It seems worse here than in the states, but even in Chicago the hollering started young. Yeah it's worse here, even just from the fact that I can't understand them fully a lot of the time. The overly pushy jackass creeper will always be a part of my Parisian experience. Maybe it's part of the reason I couldn't say I would move back here for good like Jordan so badly wants to.
I have the odd-enough preference to want to actually be slightly respected on a daily basis.
Maybe I just feel more strongly about it because my gender class has me thinking about my subjugated position here. Maybe it's just because I'm against the idea of getting involved with anyone right now and I see through the stupid game of even the well-intentioned frenchman.

Later
I read a little more, but I know I won't live a moment exactly like this again so I wanna record it. To my left on the hill are a couple of couples lying together. Behind them the B train keeps going by with its bells and grating metallic brakes. Down the hill from me a little is a backpacker laying on his backpack, a guy behind a pine tree I can't really see, and a raven picking through the grass for seeds. To the right of them by the bed of flowers is a cute little group of 2 women and 2 girls. One girl has a green bandana and she keeps running up and down the hill and all around, making exclamations of joy and discovery and playing generally the way I wish I still did. So cute. Lastly there's a group of students further over to the right chillin on the hill with their cigs and their air of cool amusement. The tree I'm under has a good start on growing its leaves, and they make stars in the sky. Other people pass on the sidewalks, but they don't really matter so much. It looks like it's gonna rain, so I might head back.

Blogging again!

Hey everyone,
So I know it's been a long time since I've written anything, and most of you have probably stopped reading, but it's nearing the end, so I figured I might as well give some sort of sense of my time here. I definitely gave myself a big task with the whole "assignment" thing trying to fit with school, but once I'm done in a couple weeks maybe I'll put some of those up. For now I'm going to put up some tidbits from my journal, and they might be out of order or out of context, but they'll definitely give you a sense of what I've been up to. Things in parentheses are extra explanations for you.

6/5/10
I fuckin love my life here. Today is amazing. I got up a little late, but I made it to class just on time. I had to take the 21 bus up to Auguste Blanqui and then walk to stupid St. Jacques cuz they've closed Glacière (my closest metro stop) pour travaux till August! It's not so bad though, the 21 goes straight to the classes on St. Michel by Luxembourg, so that's still rather convenient. Anywho... We had Romantisme at the museum of Maison de Balzac over by Passy on the 6.

The beginning parts were dec, here's paintings of people he knew and the desk he wrote on, etc. but the last room on the top floor was fuckin amazing! They had the original printing blocks of the illustrations from his books. The detail and personality in each one was awesome, but they're only a few inches square each. They had every character I think, and we could find Colonel Chabert (which we read in lit). I took pictures of as many amazing ones as I could before the class moved on and I didn't wanna miss what he said. The bottom room was sweet too: all caricatures from journaux, mostly critiquing "constitutional" king Louis-Philippe as a pear, haha.


Then I went with Antonia and Amira a bit of the way outa there, took the RER A for the first time (where we saw a guy halfway through eating a whole pie!) to Châtelet. The Monop' (small version of a common supermarket) in the level that connects all the RER trains has the best fuckin juice. Me and Alex discovered it the day we went for a picnic in Bois de Vincennes. So I got the juice and a wrap for lunch and got to trying to find my way outa the station (no easy task). Châtelet's a fuckin bitch to navigate, but there's surprises around every corner! I went up and down some stairs, down a few tunnels and heard violins, and decided to follow the sound.
I've seen them before, but it was nice to take some time to stop and listen to this big sting group that playis in the tunnels. They're amazing! They played Bach first (I only caught the tail end) and then went into Pachabel's Canon! Ooh! Brought chills! I have some change and went up the stairs outa the crowd. i was about to leave when the higher line of the violin 1 snagged something in my heart and I had to turn back. I had fuckin tears in my eyes for the whole end of the song. Fuckin beautiful! And with each note echoing off the metro walls it can't get any better.

I even found my way out rather swiftly after that (down a tunnel curving left, down some stairs, sharp right and up an escalator, right again, through the doors, left, and up the stairs to Rue de Rivoli). Now I'm in the park around the tour St. Jacques on a bench in the sun with beautiful flowers on the trees in front of me, birds chirping in the tree above me, and these 2 little kids playing and running back and forth along the gravel path. So cute!


Aight, I'm gonna go find some flats to dress up my outfit for the ballet at Opera Garnier tonight! and then I'm off to class to discuss some Flaubert. Tootles!

Amsterdamn!

Bruxelles, Belgium - we passed through


A sweet building on a canal, just a typical image of Amsterdam


This was amazing to find - a whole bunch of swans coating this canal

I know I know it's been forever and a half since I've written, but I'm here now and I'll try and fill you in on some recent stuff I've been up to.
About a month ago me and my friend Neta took a little trip to the Netherlands. I was getting annoyed of Paris, and she was down for an adventure, so we made random plans to head outa town for the weekend, and in a few hours by train we were in Amsterdam. We went from France, through Belgium, and into Holland in the same time it takes to get from Champaign-Urbana to Chicago! Gotta love Europe.
Once we made it known to the world through Facebook that we were going to Amsterdam that weekend, it became evident that we'd chosen a perfect weekend. Loads of friends were going the same time, and we had an awesome crew to chill with. My friend Adam from U of I in the same program in Paris was planning on going, and had contacted about 6 other US friends also studying in Europe (in various places) to meet there. One friend turned out to be a girl named Beata who I actually went to middle school with and is studying in Barcelona this semester! I haven't hung out with her in forever, but we randomly ended up in the same hostel in Amsterdam hehe. It was a blast!
Neta's from Israel, and grew up half there and half in the States on the East coast. One of her friends from Israel, Jonathan, grew up in Amsterdam, and happened to be back in town that weekend as well, so we even had a local with awesome English to show us around aside from the US group of tourists. I stayed in the hostel the first 2 nights, but the 3rd night after the other Americans left I stayed at Jonathan's with Neta for free!
We went to a variety of museums, though they unfortunately charge for students in Amsterdam, be warned! I guess Lisbon, Madrid, and Paris just love their students more hehe. The Rijksmuseum was my favorite, it had a bunch of awesome classic artists - rembrandt, vermeer, etc. They didn't let me take pictures there :( but take my advice and definitely go if you have a chance. We didn't go to the Van Gogh museum because I heard it wasn't that worth it - expensive, and not that much cool stuff since most of his things have been sold off elsewhere. I guess I still wish I'd been anyway, but it's expensive to travel and it's probably best that I saved the money considering there's plenty of Van Gogh in the Musee D'Orsay.
The Anne Frank house was really moving. I've read the book, I've seen the movie, I've heard a lot about the holocaust, but it hits you a whole different way being there. Especially going with Neta it felt really important. She's doing an internship at the Holocaust memorial in Paris this semester, and she's met many people in Israel who survived it, so it's very real to her. It had a pretty hopeful end to the museum though, we can only hope the world will learn.
Ok, I guess I'll give a run down of some impressions of Amsterdam. The architecture is beautiful, but the city is confusing in terms of place names and concentric rings of canals. Bad signage, but not bad once you figure it out a bit. Best part: the people were soooo nice! Most everyone spoke English, which is kind of sad I guess and feels disrespectful that so many people come and can't speak Dutch, but it doesn't seem to bother them. I never thought of Parisians as assholes till I compared them to the Dutch. They're happy to speak English with you, happy to hear where you're from, happy to share their city with you, it was amazing. Me and Neta had a great time. We came to a couple of conclusions - that Amsterdam is a magical and sparkly city (especially at night with the reflections off the canals), and that we're citizens of the world now. hehe, I think I get that feeling from traveling in general, but it felt so welcome there. The other Americans we were with were sharing stories of their various study abroad places - spanish, english, french, dutch. There were kids in the hostel from all sorts of places - turkey, somalia, argentina, japan. It's an amazing world, and it's cool to meet the people who travel it :)
The last night we went to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D and Imax in the suburbs with Jonathan and a few of his friends. Me and another American girl took the train to meet up with Neta and the guys, and it was interesting to see just how big the city really is. We'd only stayed in the center so far all weekend and used the trams to get everywhere, but the metro goes a lot further, and the architecture gets a lot more modern and big. I guess the edges of all european cities are mostly really similar to the states.
We took a train back to Paris early Monday morning and got in with just enough time for me to run home, grab my books, and get to class by noon hehe. I love it when my travel plans work out :)


Capioera in Leidseplein in Amsterdam

Paris je t'aime

I felt like putting a weird structure to this post, lemme know if it’s too confusing. Everything got retitled post-writing basically, so it’s not entirely themed towards the titles, but it marches I hope.

Introduction -
Je ne t’aime toujours:
I was getting a little tired of Paris this weekend for a bunch of reasons. I love my friends here, but I was really missing my Urbana homies, and it can get frustrating sometimes when I can’t fully express myself with so many of the people I talk to. There’s a barrier there, though it is getting better, I can have intense conversations even if it’s not everything I want to say. French guys are annoying, way to pushy and persistent. I was also starting to feel the school stress for the first time, and now it’s all French, so the ideas of my readings may be great but they’re hard to access. Plus it was really cold this weekend, just when I was starting to think we were on an upswing of temperature. Granted it’s no Chicago hehe, but it was freezing all weekend, and your chill space is greatly reduced when it’s that cold.
However, the last 2 or 3 days have completely rekindled my love for Paris.

Monday –
After class I went to chill with my friend Jordan, and we looked at his gorgeous pictures and drawings of Paris. He’s got a love for the city more than any other American I’ve met here and is sure to live out his life here, which is awesome. So now I’m inspired to get out and draw some more again. Every frickin building is beautiful! But even the less traditional views are gorgeous if seen from the right light. The southern suburban view from his window looks over smokestacks and cheap highrises, but pictures of it at sunrise are unbelievable. The buildings reflect the sky’s colors back and forth, the smoke echoes the color in a different shade, and you can’t imagine it’s the same place.

Experimental dinner:
We went down and made dinner in the basement kitchen of their dorm, and made an odd concoction of pear, potato, meatball, pesto, egg, cinnamon, Tabasco, thyme, vinegar, olive oil, milk, and couscous with garlic and nuts. It sounds weird, but it was actually Really good! There were a bunch of other kids cooking and we all ended up sitting around this big table talking. They were first making fun of local neighborhood characters, but it turned to political systems and comparisons between socialism and communism, etc. It’s hard to participate sometimes, but it was cool. Their dorm socializes a lot more than mine, no computers at the dinner table, no countries keeping to themselves, it’s hard to crack the shell at my dorm. I think the fact that it’s coed, unlike mine, helps for some reason. French guys can be annoying at bars, but in their home environment they can be pretty cool ☺ I guess it’s like that in any country, hehe.
Then to conclude the day I went home after dinner and did some awesome readings on French feminism. This class gets me all fired up, I frickin love it!

Tuesday:
Thai:
After my Romantisme class I wandered a bit with my friend Alex. We went over by the Bastille and walked down any awesome street we could find. We found this sweet narrow street that was just so classic old Paris, but there was a restaurant Thailandaise on it! I worked at a Thai restaurant in Urbana for like 9 months, so I’ve been dying for some real thai food, in the way that some of my American comrades miss mac and cheese or peanut butter. We split an expensive but oh so delicious plate of pad thai, and had jasmine tea, and at the end of it I even got to say kapunkah (thank you)! Fantastic!

Revolution:
We saw the Opera de la Bastille and the canal that goes underground there, wandered around the square looking for the lines on the ground that mark the old Bastille building (destroyed by the 1789 revolution, as you know I hope), and talked with some money-raisers about cancer. I’ve seen the Place de la Bastille before, but I’ve never appreciated the monument in the center before. It’s a green pillar with a gold angel (mercury) on top, and there’s all these names carved in the sides. It memorializes those killed in the 1830 revolution. In the states we talk about the 1789 revolution a lot, and how it went into the terror and all and then led to Napoleon, but you rarely learn about all of the following revolutions. The 1800s are spewing with popular revolt, and I frickin love it!
3 of my 5 classes are talking about the 1800s right now, and reading literature specific to the sentiments of each period. The 1830 revolution has so much more meaning after reading the poetry of say Barbier, with a symbolic lion fighting so hard, but waking up to find he’s been muzzled. The glorious July revolutionaries are symbolized as a lion because of the astrological symbol. The Parisian people fought for a republic, and they destroyed the empire to get it, but what did they end up with? A constitutional monarchy under Louis-Philippe. Cheap compromise, waking up muzzled. So they revolted again! Hello 1848!
I wish the States had had more upheaval in it’s past. People are too content with the system. The popular view from my US generation seems to be: the government sucks, but there’s nothing we can do about it, once the last ignorant generation dies it’ll be better right? Personally, that shit kills me, and I have to get up and do something. Getting people fired up is hard though, and even when you do it seems like no one listens. The government doesn’t listen to the people, and the people don’t think they’ll be heard, but they have to make themselves heard! The French really do expect a revolution around the next corner, and a government should fear its people (in the words of V for Vendetta). The French go on strike and protest all the time, and it can be annoying when you’re trying to catch a flight, but it’s great at the same time.

More Wandering and Chicken fried rice:
Anywho, so we wandered west a little into the Marais, and found a couple of awesomely old medieval buildings that looked all tudor (a rare find indeed). Across from the Lycée de Charlemagne (in the former monastery buildings attached to St. Paul), there were some kids playing basketball in a court with a sweet wall. It looked like the side of a castle. Walked up, turned out it was! I love this city! We stumbled upon the last standing wall (huge) of the fortress of Philippe-Auguste, which he built to protect the city when he went off to fight in the crusades in the 12th century. Awesome! Then we found a new thrift store (the marais is full of friperies), and proceeded to dig through a 1euro scarf box for an hour or so. Then I came home, made some awesomely successful chicken fried rice with Sam and Nina, and did some homework. It was a good day.

Wednesday :
Chopin:
genre class, lunch, nap, errands, and picked up my Amsterdam train tickets at Gare du Nord, then went to a Chopin concert at the Cité de la Musique. Chopin is frickin amazing! It was his birthday last week I think, so they’ve been having a lot of stuff recently in Paris to celebrate, including a series of concerts. My Romantisme class has a lot of field trips to museums and stuff, but this one was different, and really sweet. It was only about an hour and a half, but the pianist was amazing! He was so into it, you could see the expression on his face change with the emotions brought out by the music. I could see his hands reflected in the open part of the piano, and you could just tell he had the whole crowd in his hands. He played Nocturne in C-sharp Minor, which I knew, and I just about died. In between at a few points everyone applauded, but at the end it was an explosion of cheers and calls of “encore!” This old lady next to me surprised me with her fiery calls. We’d had such a nice chat at the beginning about how we’d both played piano when we were young and missed it. She played violin too, and she spoke german, French, and English, though I insisted she speak French with me. She was so calm and refined at first, but when it came to shouting “encore!” she was a whole different person hehe. He came back for an encore.

Thursday (today) –
Foiled by the masses:
I was trying to meet my Romantisme class at 11 for a trip to the Musée Carnavalet (Parisian history, in the Marais), but there was a protest going on at my metro stop and I couldn’t get in. I was all excited when I first walked up, protests make me happy, but it turned out it was against abortion. I’m no fan of abortion or anything, but I’m definitely pro-choice. People are going to find a way, they have for hundreds of years, you might as well make it legal so girls aren’t dying in gutters.
I then became annoyed that I couldn’t get in to my metro stop, and consequently got to the museum late. I was trying to text Antonia to find out where they were in the museum, and wandered for a while looking for them, but she didn’t get back to me till I was leaving, since I thought class would be over. Apparently the teacher knew about the protest though so he said it was cool. I’m definitely going back to Carnavalet though, it was awesome, I love Parisian history, it’s right here!

Wandering and Hugo:
I had some time till my next class so I wandered and found the hotel I stayed at with my dad when I first came to paris in 8th grade. That was satisfying, because I feel like I’ve finally centered the Paris I saw then with the Paris I know now. Then I went in to check out St. Pauls, and then went to meet my friend Jordan for coffee by the Catho.
We had a presentation on Victor Hugo today, he talked about a section of Les Mis, this girl Ashley talked about his biography, and I talked about his poem “demain, dès l’aube,” which is frickin beautiful! I think our presentation went swimmingly, then we watched some of a video of the play we’re reading – Hugo’s Ruy Blas. It was hilariously over the top dramatic. Reading it its got weight, but the acting was just funny. I love Hugo, I’d marry him if he was alive, more attractive, and a little less misogynistic. I guess I wish I could marry his writing really. But that’s the beauty of reading isn’t it.

Thoughts on Catholicism:
On my way home I was talking with my friend Martha and missed my stop, so I took another route, and walked through Parc Montsouris to get home. There’s a church I’ve been meaning to check out over to the west a bit, so I went and saw that too. It’s kinda buried between the courtyards of other highrises, but I got in and found the adorable local chapelle de Sainte Jeanne d’Arc. It was deathly still and empty, but the stained glass was epic. I’ve gotta go back with my camera. It’s interesting thinking about France’s history with Catholicism. In a country steeped in “laïcité” (secularism), it’s frowned upon to represent your religion on the streets, and yet the country has such a base in it, churches everywhere, etc. I guess this church is newer so it hasn’t had the same drama, but St. Pauls had signs everywhere talking about how they got raped by the revolution.

Oh my god I heard the saddest story the other day. Apparently the courtyard in the middle of the complex of buildings that make up L’Institut Catholique (La catho, where I take 3 of my classes) was the site of some really heavy history. So in the period of the 1789 revolution, Catholicism was seen as an oppressive force in society equal to monarchy and aristocracy. King and queen, loads of nobles lost their heads, thank you guillotine. Not only that though. Specifically where I walk most every day, they rounded up a whole bunch of priests and nuns from local churches, and held them in the courtyard. They ended up executing about half of them, about 200 as far as I can tell. A nun told Alex, who told me, and her imitation of “cette endroit est très lourd” even gave me chills.
I like revolution plenty, but I like peace more, though there’s a lot at stake either way.

Conclusion -
Anywho, I just made some pasta to go with my daily baguette and bread, and I’m gonna go to Foyer Massena to either jam, write a paper, or watch a movie. Hasn’t been decided yet. Wish me luck in Amsterdam tomorrow! A bientôt!

Some rough times in paris

Life happens anywhere you go, and a few weeks ago it seemed like everything happened in a row.
I had a weird weekend with some drama among my friends here, then I was chilling with my friend Sam at a cafe down the block (L'Ariel), just having a beer and relaxing outside, when some bullshit went down. A guy came up seeing her pack on the table and asked for a cigarette. She said no, and he saw my phone sitting on the table, snatched it and ran. I shouted "Fuck You" and booked it after him. I don't even know what I was thinking or what I would have done if I'd caught him, but it was just instinct to chase him. I was right on his heels for like 3 blocks, and I don't know how I kept running so long, but he turned a corner and disappeared! I checked in every store on the block, but he must have gone into an apartment or something.
I went back to the cafe, found Sam (who had packed up all of our stuff), and we went in to ask the cafe workers what we should do. Paris really got me mad here, because they completely didn't care. As Sam was packing up our stuff, no one came out to see if we were ok, or see what had happened, even though he'd knocked over a beer and there was clearly a distressing situation of some sort. We asked if we should call the police and they just said "they're not gonna come." They then proceeded to lecture us about leaving things out in the open. It was on the table for like 3 minutes, since I'd just answered a call from someone, and Parisians put their phones on cafe tables all the time! They told us to go to Place d'Italie, to the neighborhood police station and report it. The whole walk there me and Sam were venting about how messed up it was, and pointing out people at cafes with their phones on the table. We wandered around the Place and learned about 4 words for police station, since people never understood the last one we'd learned and insisted another word was more "courant." Finally we got to the police station, waited in line, and filled out some paperwork that we learned was really more for the sake of the neighborhood than my specific phone. They're pretty much never gonna find it, but at least now they know there was one more robbery in the 13th arrondissement. Poop. Well it happens I guess, Yoko apparently has lost 8 phones in the last 2 years, Laura got her phone stolen out of her bag, Portia got her phone stolen out of her pocket. At least I got to yell at the guy, and give him a bit of a fright hehe.
I've now put a ban on the Ariel, since they were so mean about it, we'll see if they can win back my business by sheer convenience. Fortunately my friend Antonia had an extra phone from when she switched phone service, so I didn't have to pay extra to get a new one. It's working fine now, and I've gotten most my contacts back. I did go about a week without a phone though, which was really crappy.

My legs were absolutely sore for a few days after chasing him, since I haven't been dancing or anything in a while. Worse though was that my foot hurt, I was really worried I'd broken it or something because it just got worse over the next few days. I started orientation for my school program the next day, and we did a lot of walking around Paris, Versailles, the Louvre, etc. most the weekend, and I was unfortunately limping for a lot of it. It's feeling better now though, I think it just needed rest.

Then that Saturday I was hanging out with some of the new kids who came to start my program, just chilling on some wine in their dorm, and it was rather late when I decided to go back to my dorm. Little did I know that my family had been trying to get a hold of me all day, but couldn't because my phone was gone, and I was hanging out with kids who also didn't have phones yet since they'd just arrived. So I came home and found Laura and Yoko, who told me to call my mom immediately. They'd gotten a scary message from my mom, so they got a hold of me old-fashioned-style and showed up at the dorm.
I got my computer and got on skype and everything, and found out my grandpa died. I'm glad I've got some good friends here at the dorm because it was kinda hard, but I was mostly worried about my family at home. It's hard to be separated from people at a time like that. My brother in Nicaragua, my cousin in Argentina, and me were three lone wolves who couldn't come back for the funeral. Over the next few days we talked with each other a bunch, and with random members of the family through skype and facebook. Technology truly is amazing. My dad skyped me in to the wake even, and I got to say hi to a bunch of aunts, uncles, cousins, and even my grandma. I wish I could have really been there with everyone, but I'm glad I could be there in spirit, and digitally.
That next week I started classes, and I think the day after the wake I was walking around Paris doing my thing and I got a crêpe. I thought of a story my grandpa had told me about the french. I'm not sure when or where but I get the feeling that it was sometime during the war. He came across some french guys making pancakes, but the minute the dough would start to rise in that wonderful way it does, they'd Slap it back down with the spatula. It would get those bubbles and rise a little more, and Slap they'd flatten it again! I saw the guy making this crepe on the Rue de Rivoli, and I had to laugh. My grandpa was right, that is Not how you make a pancake.
I've been thinking about my grandpa a lot, and I can't wait for my cousin Matt's wedding in fall, when all the cousins will be back in town and we'll be able to reminisce with everyone together. We've all got a lot of great memories with my grandpa. Dancing with maracas for a sick son, playing dress-up with a persistent granddaughter, or just fishing on Powers Lake, he'll always be with us.