something is always happening

Last time I left you I was at the beach.

Yeah, that beach. 

I think I remember telling you that I was headed to the Beaux-Arts Museum. It looked slightly complicated to get there, but it couldn't hurt to wander. It was only 10:20, and I had over an hour before I could officially check into my hotel. I started to walk along the Promenade de Anglais in the direction of the museum. The sun was bright, and I was hot due to my excessive clothing. I couldn't wait to change my clothes. I passed a museum, and decided to keep walking. I then saw a sign for the Beaux-Arts Museum, and followed it up a small path. I instantly knew that I was lost. I kept walking ahead hoping that I would see a sign. After a block I turned left and ended up in this small, shadowy street that was filled with restaurants and small shops. I ducked into a boulangerie to get a baguette. It was 85 cents and kinda small according to Parisian standards, but I munched on it as I walked anyway. I found another sign, and picked up the trail. The signs here are even worse than Paris. I finally got to one post that had two Beaux-Art Museum signs pointing in different directions. One was a sign for pedestrians that led straight up a steep hill.

I walked up the hill and sat on a bench at the top of the staircase mostly because I was tired, but also to finish my baguette. I saw a sign nearby that said Beaux-Arts, and I figured that I was there. I polished off my lunch and headed into the courtyard. I was confused because there were three men in suits standing in front of the door, and there was no obvious signs that would lead me to believe that it was the entrance. There was a small garden outside so I walked through it before retourning to the doorway that was now empty. I went inside and was informed that the museum was free. The museum is small, but had some great works including 15th century religious pieces (my favorites) and some Asian prints. There was also a drawing by Victor Hugo and a Rodin sculpture of Victor Hugo's head.

I've noticed that Nice has a lot of the same streets at Paris. There's a Victor Hugo Street, one for Henri IV, and a few others that I see in Paris all the time. Strange. Well, anyway, back to the museum. There was also a large collection of Lengrad's. I had never seen the artist's work before, but now I'm a big fan. So varied. So interesting. The museum as a whole was sparse, but it's also free for all so you can't complain. It's set in a crumbling mansion with peeling paint and squeaking floors. Not even the new coat of paint in the Asian section of the museum was well done. I still found it oddly charming and sweet.

A Lengrad in the Beaux-Arts Museum

After the museum I came back to my hotel. The room is so cute! It feels almost as big as the room in Lausanne, and there's only one of me. I indulged in some guilt free French cartoons and checking Facebook before getting dressed and hitting the road. I decided to go to the Musée d'Art Moderne et d'Art Contemporaire. The directions were easy, and it was only a 20 minute walk away. I changed into a dress and threw a sweater into my bag. I saw a few hairs growing on my legs due to the fact that I shaved them over 12 hours previously, and decided to shave them off. Bad idea. I cut myself amost immediately, and had blood on my leg for the rest of the day.

I left the hotel and started walking. There's a cute park with a fountain across from my hotel, and there's an old Catholic church across from the park. I walked through my neighborhood, and kept going straight. I was surprised to pass a Picard during my journey! Oh Picard. While walking I got stuck behind these two men, and decided to go around them. There were also two other men who passed the first two men while I was passing them. I knew I was in trouble when they pulled over next to a closed shop. One of them whispered how exquiste and sexy I am. I'm still grossed out. I hate being harrassed when I'm just trying to go see some art.

The park near my hotel

The church across from the park

I kept walking, and almost missed my turn due to it's lack of street sign. European streets never have signs. I walked passed a church, crossed the road, and wound up in a large art center where the modern art museum was located. The entrance to the museum was free, and I went right in. The exhibit on the first floor was truly disturbing. It was all pictures of naked women which inclued a table full of framed pornographic pictures. One of the works was a mannequin wearing a black dress with a bag over its head. I thought I heard a noise coming from the mannequin and freaked out. What a scary artist.

I'm not the world's biggest contemporary art fan because some of it is just too weird for my liking. The museum actually had a really good collection of super modern art and other more tame pieces. There was even an Andy Warhol (not that I love him, but the piece was pretty good). There was everything from a dress made of blue waterbottles to several smushed cars. Many pieces contained mannequins or collages. I liked the museum way more than I thought I would. I also appreciated that it was practically empty so I had the place to myself to stare at the works as long as I wanted.

That's an excellent question

The Warhol

The plastic bottle dress

Scary

The fourth floor was a terrasse area that included a small garden patch. Most amazing views of Nice imaginable. You can see for miles. It might have been the best part of the museum. After the terrasse I went to see a small exhibition in a side room for a five minutes. It was miniature daily life scenes inside oil drums.

The view from the museum

I left the museum and wandered around into the old town for a bit. I saw the Course Saleye Flower Market and almost got run over by the tram. I found a small gift store with some cute souvenirs, but decided to wait until tomorrow to buy anything. By this time it was getting cold so I started to head back to my hotel. On the way I stopped by a used bookstore to look around. I found some postcards that I wanted, and then left. She only charged me one euro for four postcards! Great deal.

I got back to my room and messed around for a bit before starting to write my music final paper. I could barely keep my eyes open. I was struggling to write anything when I started receiving emails from my mom. I told her to get on skype, and I got a call from her a few minutes later. We chatted for a bit about Nice and her job, and by that time it was almost seven. I had seen a burger stand near my hotel and decided to go there for dinner. I ordered the XL burger with a side of fries. I waited at the stand for my food to be cooked, and then came back to my room. For 6,50 I got a burger bigger than my head and a huge side of fries. I was surprised that I ate it all! That was my first burger since Switzerland, and I must say that it was delicious. I ate my dinner in bed while watching Friends with French subtitles. It only took me moving to a different continent for me to watch the show.

After dinner I struggled through writing one page of my histories synecdoche paper. I wrote a page, and then started googling my plans for tomorrow. I'm going to the Matisse Museum and the Chagall Museum. It should be a busy day. After that I began googling things to do in Monaco. I'm going to take a day trip there on Sunday just so that I can say that I've been.

I'm so sleepy I feel like I'm going to fall asleep at any moment. I'm going to try to at least address my postcards and then go to bed. I have to be rested for my fun tomorrow.

Because I'm Happy

I'm writing this post from the beach in Nice. Life is good. 

So when I last talked to you I was on the train here. After talking to you I turned to sleep. Trains are not meant for sleeping. I couldn't get comfortable in the seat and kept walking up. I managed to continue this semi-sleeping until about 6:45 this morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, and I was wide awake. I spent the rest of the train ride to Nice looking out the window and trying to get comfortable. The woman in front of me had reclined her seat all the way back so that I literally had zero leg room. Between my lack of space and the jostling train, I was slightly less than a happy camper. After awhile I munched on the brown sugar pop tarts that mom flew with to Europe for me. They were delicious. 

The first sights of Nice were really bad. We first went through the industrial area on the edge of town. I was praying that I wouldn't be dropped off there. It was no good. Thankfully the train kept rolling past Nice St. Augustine station and ended in Nice Ville. I got myself off the train and out the front door. Now only to find my hotel. I figured that I'd turn right and see what happened to me. The streets of Nice are not as baggage friendly as those in Paris (I never thought that I'd type that sentence), and I was having serious trouble. I figured that I was going the wrong direction so I turned back. I saw the street that I was supposed to turn on immediately once I got back to the train station. The directions were a little off (I think that I was supposed to use some kind of underground passageway), but I found my way to the hotel's street. I could swear that I saw the sign for my hotel, but when I got to 11 bis I didn't see the sign anywhere. I stood, puzzled, on the street for a minute until I saw the sign again. 

The next challenge was getting into the building. I pressed a button that looked like it would call someone, and then I heard the door click open. The woman at the front desk speaks English and was very friendly. She gave me a map of Nice and a towel so I could sit at the beach. My hotel should be ready by noon. I booked it for the beach as soon as I could. I'm currently sitting on the pebble beach watching children swim in the sunshine. It's such a beautiful day. I love holiday. 

I think that I'm going to try to find the Beaux-Arts Museum before going back to my hotel. Maybe I can find a boulangerie along the way. Talk to you soon. I have sunbathing to do. 

Oh Wouldn't it Be Nice

I'm on my way to Nice!! Please forgive the title. I'm never above a good pun. 

Last night I couldn't sleep. I'm going to attribute it to my new habit of sleeping with the kitchen light on, but it was probably because I couldn't stop dreaming of French pop songs and the superlative. I first woke up at 6:30 am, and decided that was unacceptable. I stuck it out until 7:22 when I decided to get up. I'm still wifiless so I did my morning routine in silence. Today's power outfit for midterms included my cute brown boots, my heart socks that mommy sent me, fishnets, my black and white skirt, my tight fitting black sweater, and my new white scarf. Oh course I couldn't forget the red lipstick. I left the house a few minutes early in order to get in some quality time with the wifi at the Accent center. 

I got to school and quickly checked my email and Facebook messages. I responded to my mom's email and fielded a few Facebook messages from friends. I had to make it quick because my midterm was supposed to start in four minutes. I rant to the bathroom, and when I came out I started to head into Marianne for class….along with other students from another class. My professor was sitting right there so we asked her what the problem was. She talked to one of the office managers, Julian, and he told us to go to Joan of Arc. The second we started to walk in students from another class went in too! We all sat outside and watched our professor tear pages off of our midterm. It was past 8:30 when she told us to go into Joan of Arc. We hadn't seen any other students leave the room, but when we entered it was empty. Magic. 

We settled into the midterm and got rolling. Dictation. Semi fine. Was there a qui or was I mistaken? Oral questions. Fine. It all went downhill from there. I had no idea how to do the passé composé of mettre! What was I to do?! What was the correct answer in the next section. Does he never do the shopping or does he no longer do it?! Then came the 30 point section of horror. We had to write 15 sentences about housework using passé composé. I forgot what the word "nettoyer" means, and it was one of the required words. My chances of doing well were quickly slipping through my fingers. I finished the midterm, including six points of extra credit, with about fifteen minutes to spare. I had seen Irene drop off her exam and go outside. I was still drawing dark black boxes over my mistakes. Next I saw Raven go up. Our professor read her 30 point section, gave her some corrections, and sent her back to her seat. I saw Anna go up and do the same. I followed Anna. I was given some corrections, not as many as I thought, and sent back to my seat. I was finished within a minute. I gave my professor my test and settled back into my seat to read the Poe that I had put in my purse. The Ourang-Outang commits the murder. 

After the time was up for the exam we had a "five" minute break. Five minutes always turns into ten minutes so I took my time outside reading on the couch. I was sitting on the sofa for a minute before some girls sat on the back of the sofa. One of the girls, Eunice, is from my French class. She was telling her friends that she had gotten a very angry call from her mother. It turns out that Eunice has charged $4,000 to her mother's credit card--including a $1,000 coat. There was also an expensive sweater involved. $4,000?!!!! That's enough to almost pay for a quarter of school, and she has blown through it in less than four months. The worst part is that you know she'll never pay a penny of that money. 

We went back inside after "five" minutes to find our professor had left the room as always. We always take forever on break and then, and when we finally decide to go back she has disappeared!! We watched Entre le Mur for about ten minutes before the class was over. My professor hadn't out homework before the movie started. She had taken the time to write a long paragraph to me about the subject of one of the homework exercises. I think she likes me. 

I left Accent, and went to Monoprix to pick of some razors before my trip. I found men's razors for about two euros and decided on those. I found the women's section next, but the razors were more expensive. My legs won't know if the razor is pink or not, but my wallet will always remember how much they cost. At least they were less than $4,000. I went home to do some tasks before my midterm at one. I made the bed, washed the dishes, packed and repacked my suitcase, and some other things to get ready for my holiday. I ate a white sauce and spinach lasagna, and still had 45 minutes to spare before my doom. I went downstairs to use the internet before coming back upstairs to get ready. For some reason I started singing "Les Nouveaux Partisans" in my head as I left the room. 

I got to school and something made me check the mail. I finally got my postcard from Alice!!! Just the thing to cheer me up before my midterm. I nearly cried when I saw the picture of a Californian beach. I'll be back soon, my love. I put the postcard in my purse and went inside. The other students were playing music and studying before the test. I'm still a firm believer that learning five seconds before the exam is passed out really doesn't do anything. The other students' talking was starting to freak me out so I chose to dig the gum wrappers out of my purse and tune them out. Mindy came and the exam begun. It was extra credit (or whatever the word "bonus" means) if we could identify the artist or title of a song. She played the first song, tous les garçons et les filles" by Françoise Hardy, and the race was on. She played the whole song, and that was really all the time we got to write our answers. I learned to write quicker and come back to things when I had time. All but one of the songs was a song that she had played in class. I'm pretty sure that the song I couldn't recognize was Johnny Hallyday. I know his annoying style from anywhere. Next up was the essay portion. We were given 39 minutes to write an essay about Panne d'essence and how the song confirms and rebuts Briggs' argument about yé-yé reinforcing gender stereotypes. I left with about 3 minutes to spare. 

Freedom!! Now it was just the waiting game. I got my laptop and headphones and went downstairs to the rec room. I surfed the internet for a bit until I decided that it was snack time. I had a piece of bread, cake, and potato chips to finish off so I had them as my snack. I went back downstairs to continue wasting time. Mom called me on Skype at a little after four, and we talked for about an hour. She's going to send me a package of Thanksgiving foods so that I can celebrate with her. I'm looking forward to some American mashed potatoes and gravy. Oooo and stuffing! I watched some more tv after mom and I finished talking. At 6:45 I went downstairs for my final preparations. I took a shower, did some last minute things around the apartment, ate another lasagna, and then took out the trash. I didn't know what time it was, but I had a feeling like I was going to be early for my train. 

I walked to Gare d'Austerlitz because I figured that the streets of Paris would be more baggage friendly than the métro. People cart bags around on the street all the time, and I really didn't get any weird looks. There were a lot of people out so I didn't' feel worried even though it was pitch black outside. I was almost to the gare when I saw a group of men and knew that I'd have trouble. One guy split off from his friends and leaned against the bridge. As I walked past he said something about mademoiselle. I kept walking. I was pretty sure that they yelled obscenities after me. I would have made a clean escape if the wheels of my bag didn't get getting stuck in the cobbled stoned street. I resorted to picking up both my bags and carrying them across the street. 

I got to the gare and didn't have any trouble finding the long distance trains. My train was on the board, but there was no track number yet considering that it was only a few minutes past eight and my train didn't leave until 9:23. I pulled out Poe and started reading. Before 8:45 hit there was a track number posted for my train and I got on the move. There was a booth set up before you could get on the train so that your ticket could be scanned. I'm in car 28, seat 27. I'm writing this from there now. I realize that I have a lot of French to learn. People asked me questions, and all I could do was tell them that I don't speak French. Uggh daily life is such a struggle when you're practically illiterate. The kid next to me is grumbling over his English homework. I corrected one of his sentences before I started writing to you; "he is hitchhiking". It's only 10, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I'll see you in a few hours. This train doesn't arrive in Nice until 8:45am. 

Que sera sera

Today is the second day of being wifiless. There might be a casualty if this issue isn't resolved soon. 

I woke up today and said a prayer that the wifi would be working. No such luck. I knew that I had no other option but to go to the Accent center and do my homework there. I then had another thought. I don't need wifi to do my French studying, all I needed was the menu for the test. I knew that I could find some free wifi on the 7th floor so I went upstairs with my laptop. I found an unlocked user with just enough signal to get my emails to load. I must have looked like a crazy person sitting on the floor trying to steal internet. My professor had sent the menu last night at six. I'm glad that I didn't see it yesterday. I was too overwhelmed. 

I tried to google translate the menu, but the wifi wasn't strong enough for the translation. I settled on trying to comprehend it myself. I went back downstairs and started working. Studying for French is becoming easier and easier. There are always a few things I stumble over, but I always do well in the end. I worked on French for an hour before taking a break. I knew that I needed a break from studying when I started getting things wrong that I'm sure that I knew before; "sera" is only spelled with one "r", and "fera" is the same. 

My histories midterm wasn't until 3:30 today, and I had a lot of wifi-free time to kill. I wasn't going to do my hair or makeup today considering that I only had to be out of the house for an hour and a half. With all of the time to kill I decided that I'd do my makeup and straighten my hair. I even experimented with my new dry shampoo and washed some clothes. I got back to studying for French, and then moved on to the dreaded pop. I'm so sick of that class there aren't even words to express it anymore. I went over my notes, but it was frustrating me to see all of the tiny details that I keep missing and forgetting. I kept having to take breaks to calm my nerves. It didn't help much. 

I fought my way through pop, and finished at about one. I was still madly on the hunt for wifi. First I tried Francisco's room to see if I could steal from them. They gave me their password, but I guess their signal is too far from my room. I was becoming more and more desperate like a woman in the desert. I finally got the idea to go down to the lobby. There has to be wifi there! There was. I looked like a crazy person in my pjs hunched over my computer checking Facebook. The French residents of the building kept saying bonjour to me as they passed by. I didn't care. I needed the sweet sensation of internet access.

I sent an email to my mom to alert her of the situation before coming back upstairs. Last night I had read some of my Poe book because I had nothing else to do with my non-wifi life. It turns out that there are two murder mysteries in the book that are set in Paris! I started reading one today as I waited for an appropriate time for lunch (I can't eat too early or else I will be hungry during my midterm) and then to go to class. I hate having late classes because it's the waiting game. Just waiting for something to happen. While I was waiting and reading I got the idea to start packing. I crammed everything I could into my small suitcase, including textbooks, and then double checked my small flower print bag. I always feel like I'm missing something when I travel. I have to double check that I've put my tickets and hotel confirmations in my bag as well as my money and money pouch; I already know they're in there, but I just have to look again. 

By this time it was lunch time. I heated up my last meal Picard: fish with some kind of cream sauce, rice, and vegetable mix. It was cold in the center, but I ate it anyway. Why does Picard always think that fish dishes must have lemon? I didn't taste the lemon in this one until the very end, but it was surprisingly strong. Oh Picard….After lunch I still had a few minutes to spare before I had to get dressed. I had remembered Nico saying something about a rec room with an oven on the first floor. I thought he meant the first European floor, and spent some of my time downstairs pulling on doors. I finally figured that I'd go to the first floor and see if there was a rec room. There is one, and it has wifi!! I took my computer downstairs and indulged in some internet. Can you feel the desperation? 

I finally had to come back upstairs to get dressed, but not after I loaded a page to read before my midterm. I always wear sexy outfits/things I feel good in and red lipstick on midterms and finals days as an extra boost of confidence. Today I choice my black sweater dress (even though it makes me look like the bag lady), a black cropped sweater (it didn't really go with the outfit, but it's always cold in Chanel), shimmery sparkle tights, and my brown boots. I wore the long socks with hearts on them as an extra special touch. I put on my red lipstick, and put my customary rosary on for good luck. I sat around waiting for it to be time to leave. 

When I got to Accent I noticed that my entire class was outside. I didn't think anything of it, and went inside to read the Poe that I had stashed in my purse. I should always remember to have a book in my purse. I read for a few minutes, and then went upstairs to Chanel with Raven. We got inside the building, and saw people sitting on the stairs. We looked up and saw the outside door that leads to the classrooms closed. We sat down on the steps and chatted until we saw Christina smoking outside. She came inside the building followed by the rest of our class. We told her that the door was closed. She put her back down near me and went to check the door. It was locked. She then went to Accent to get Coraline to open the door. They climbed the stairs, and were followed by all of us. 

The midterm started five minutes late. We got our blue books, and were told to skip one line while we were writing; the lines were tiny, and my handwriting barely fit. From the very beginning I was writing at the speed of light. Christina had put a post it note on the clock to tell us when half the time was up. She pulled it off the clock just as I was finishing my first essay. I began on my second essay, and quickly realized that I was out of space. I finished the blue book and went to ask Christina if she had another book. She didn't, and instead grabbed Sierra's notebook off the floor and told me to take what I needed. After the theft I went back to writing like the wind. I hadn't even gotten to my section on hospitals when I saw five minutes left. I raced through my section on green space, and was at the very end of the paragraph when Christina called time. I had no conclusion paragraph!! I wrote two summary sentences and turned it in before she could literally rip the book out of my hands. Que sera sera…..

I went to Monoprix to get three frozen meals to keep me fed today and tomorrow. I saw Lucinda while I was there and we chatted on the way home. I left her in front of the boulangerie on the corner, and I headed to Franrprix for potato chips for my journey. Two bags of chips and 1,24 euro later, and I was on my way home. I still needed to finish a bit of French studying, but I had over five hours before I had to be in bed. I studied for French, and then packed up my blanket, a pillow, my laptop, and headphones and went to the rec room. I was alone for no time at all before someone came in. She was then followed by Nico and her roommate Alexandra. I listened to the music for pop, and but didn't really get anything out of it. I spent most of my time downstairs chatting with Jimmy on Facebook and reading scary articles on Cracked. 

While I was downstairs I got an email from my French professor. Our conversation goes as follows: 

Bonsoir Michaela,

Vous n'avez pas de question sur la préparation de l'examen ?

C'est que peut-être je deviens une professeure parfaite  ?

Ce n'est pourtant pas possible....

Bon courage avec les révisions et à demain !

Bonsoir Professeure,

I don't have any questions this time! I think I'm fairly prepared. Please make the test extra easy just for me :) 

You are already the perfect professor. 

Merci beaucoup! 

à demain!

Vous êtes trop gentille !

Mes tests sont déjà trop faciles pour vous...

A demain matin,

PS : je ne suis pas sûre que le professeur parfait vous montrerait 

des publicité sur la sexualité ou des photos de chanteur des années

70 qui montrent leur derrière !!!

Ce sont plutôt les étudiants californiens qui sont extra extra ouverts

d'esprit !

Yep, my French professor was teasing me. 

I came upstairs at 8pm to eat dinner and take a shower. I got sidetracked from my shower with figuring out if I should keep the "s" in the imperative form of "apprendre" or if it's dropped. You keep the "s" in -ir and -re endings, but drop it in -er endings. Good to know. 

I took my shower, and realized that I forgot to buy razors. Zut. After my shower I heated up the salmon and spinach lasagna that I bought at Monoprix. It wasn't as delicious today. I ate some caramels to make up for it. I'm almost out of the caramel filled caramels, and I don't know what I'm going to do. Life is looking rough. 

I'm so sleepy. I'm going to write the French dictation one more time, and then go find some internet to upload this post. I just have to keep thinking about the light at the end of the tunnel: I will be in the sunshine in Nice soon enough. I can't wait to see the ocean…and get some internet.  

For Milo: Who Knows Everything

This day has been horrible, and I don't even want to talk about it. I would rather just skip the memory of today entirely. 

I woke up at 7:30 on the nose and got myself up and going. I didn't sleep well at all last night, and I knew that I had a long day ahead of me. I had a feeling like it was going to be a bad one. After doing my makeup and getting dressed I made myself a whole peanut butter and honey sandwich and responded to my Facebook messages. I managed to get honey and peanut butter all over my keyboard. I finished my coffee and left the house one minute late. A very bad sign indeed. 

The sky was very gray today, and I shivered on my walk to school. I got to class and we started a few minutes late. They have begun to do construction right outside of our classroom, and today the workmen were right outside the window. I could see the top of one's head as I entered the room. My professor began to speak, and within moments a loud buzzer sound started outside. She couldn't even shout lout enough to drown out the noise. She left the room immediately, and returned with news. We were moving classrooms from Chanel to Marianne inside of Accent. We packed up and left. 

I sat next to Raven in the second row inside of the dark and cramped classroom. Behind me were my favorite students--Talia, Hanna, and Anna. This morning I had to hear about how Talia was fighting with her ex-boyfriend all night about some nonsense while I was trying to read The Phantom Tollbooth. Now during class they were constantly having conversations and making comments about what was happening in class. I suddenly got very distracted and my head hurt. I was having trouble doing anything, and I really needed to focus today. We have our midterm on Thursday, and today was supposed to be a review. I couldn't hear my professor's soft voice their cheating in the row behind me during the practice dictation. Mon style préfèrer de musique? Je ne said pas. Our professor than went on a ramble about this musician from the sixties who appeared in a concert add without pants. Dear lord. 

Next up was our break. I sat at the table in Accent and was trying to read the Phantom Tollbooth. The group of devils decided to stand behind me and chat. I think they're really trying to torment me. I finally went back inside the classroom because I couldn't take it anymore. My professor decided that we should learn the vocab for chores today, and I couldn't hear myself think over their comments. If I heard Talia exclaim how scared she was for her midterm that she hadn't studied for one more time I would have turned around and strangled her. I did manage to squeak out my sentence about "je fais solvent le lit". I had some odd satisfaction when Talia struggled to make her sentence. Should have been paying attention. 

French concluded with our professor handing out a worksheet and letting us out a few minutes late. I went back upstairs to Chanel for my histories class, and noticed that the workmen were gone. I sat in my usual seat and started reading my book. I wasn't sure what we were going to do today in class considering that our midterm is tomorrow and it's all essay questions. We ended up talking about Les Invalides and discussing Napoleon III and Haussmann. The conversation really added some good stuff to my essay about urban builders. I was really grateful for the lecture; you know how insecure I've been feeling about that essay. It was too bad that Eli and the blonde girl sat near me and decided to chat. Why do kids think that it's okay to talk during class? You shouldn't be in class if you want to talk instead of learn. 

After class I went straight home. The dew was so heavy that it felt like rain. Once home I immediately grabbed myself some cookies to keep my rumbling stomach at bay, and then wrote my first essay. This time my essay was almost three minutes over time. I don't know how that essay bloomed to that long, but I'm going to chalk it up to being tired and distracted. I also wasn't writing as quickly as normal. I heated up my spinach and white sauce lasagna from monoprix and turned my attention to doing my French homework. I did the worksheet that was passed out in class today with no problem. Next up was the tout ensembles for all of the chapters on the midterm as assigned on the syllabus. The first one went fine. The second and third ones were really a struggled for me. My headache had come back and it was cold in my room. No good at all. 

With just about an hour before my pop class, I did my second histories essay. The midterms weeks schedule is different than our normal routine, so my pop class met tonight from 4:30 to 6. I wrote the second essay, and this one was two minutes over time! I added a lot of new information to the essay, but with two essays that are over time I'm going to really have to hurry tomorrow. It's off to the races for me the second the questions are passed out…and maybe a minute before. 

I got dressed and listened to some Wavves king of the beach before heading to class. It was brutal cold walking to class, and the sky was getting darker every minute. I got to Accent to see a yellow slip in my mail section. My package from my mom came! She told me that she had sent me a white infinity scarf, the pens and highlighters I had requested, dry shampoo, ear plugs to quell the noise of the construction and annoying neighbors, thermal tights, and socks. I opened the box to find a card with a bejeweled owl on it. Everyone is shocked that I get so many packages, and Molly and I talked about my box before Mindy came in to tell us that our class was in a different room. 

We went upstairs and the review started. I'm going to skip all the details and just give you a summary. I nearly started crying in class because I'm so overwhelmed. She expects no more than one blue book page per song! There are eight songs, and she has to play us a clip of each song and tell us a bit of the lyrics, AND we also have an essay to write all in 90 minutes. She said that we can pull in relevant information from lecture for the songs, but I don't think that I can write a whole page in no time flat! She said that she's definitely going to include some songs that we haven't heard. We did a practice song at the end of lecture. It was François Hardy, whom we've studied before, but it had strange instrumentation in it and a weird rhythm. For a control freak like me, this midterm is going to kill me. Remember when I said that I should direct my anger towards Mindy and that it's a really immature stance when I'm the real source of my problems? Is it immature if I take that back? I've had a change of heart. I hate her and her stupid class. I feel like she's all a lie. She acts like everything will be really easy, but in actuality it's way harder than she makes it out to be. She's also not an easy grader. Death. 

I walked home with my package and tried not to cry. It was completely dark, and I was freezing. I knew that I just needed some popcorn and nutella and I would be all better. I came home to find out that my internet isn't working. It's now 9:49, and I made this discovery at 6:15pm. I know that I've been stealing internet since I got here, but I only do it because I have no other options. I can only still from one source, and that source isn't working. This was the last thing that needed to happen to me today. I tried not to fall to pieces while I unpacked my box, ate some nutella, and got my French book out. 

I made popcorn so that I could munch on my dinner while reviewing the last few bits of French that I didn't get to this afternoon. After studying I kept trying the internet with no success. I took my shower hoping that it would improve my mood. Instead, my last razor broke. I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to paint my nails instead of studying. I painted my nails in silence and then finished my last few pages of The Phantom Tollbooth while they completely dried. I just finished the book, and I miss it already. 

Last up for me was doing short fill in the blank questions to study for pop. I just copied down the genre questions from one of the lectures and then filled them in for each genre. Now I'm writing my sorrows to you. Tomorrow will be better. 

FYI: I still don't have wifi. I'm currently posting this from the lobby of my building. Desperate times….

but i miss you most of all my darling/when autumn leaves start to fall

Today has been a good day. Those are weird words to be spoken during midterm season.

I got up this morning, made my peanut butter and honey, and got back into bed to check my messages. Next up was studying for French. It only took me 58 minutes despite the extra studying for the ecology and household vocab. I can actually remember waht l'évier is, and know that it's j'éteins. I've run out of ways to torture myself for my pop class so I settled with playing all of the songs and then doing oral descriptions of them after I wrote down their information (artist, title, date). Despite being a very foggy morning, the sun of shining bright and I felt great as I made myself another cup of coffee. I took a break after an hour to listen to some Petula Clark for my pop final project. I really liked her version of Autum Leaves (les feuilles mortes).

Two vanilla cookies and I was back to work. I finished studying all of the songs, took a break to straighten my hair, and then reviewed the sheet about genre. By this time it was a few minutes past noon. When I was talking to my mother a few days ago I mentioned that I hadn't had a baguette in awhile, and she seemed shocked. I decided that it was a beauitful day and that I needed to go out and get a baguette. I got myself dressed and opened the door to see Coraline standing there with two men behind her. They were coming to check the phone. I asked if she had a key, and then wished them bonne journée. I went and got my bread at the good place on the corner, and then walked around the block to give the workmen some time. I munched on my bread on the way home. It wasn't a fantastic baguette, but I've missed the feeling of a cut mouth post-baguette.

I ate most of the remaining baguette in bed while looking up flights to Spain. I want to go to Spain after the semester ends because I have a few days between when the program ends and when I leave to California. I want to do to Seville to see the Alhambra, but the Prado is in Madrid. Is it a crime to plan an entire vacation around going to an art museum?

With my head still thinking of my vacation, I got went back to studying. All I had left were my two essays for histories. I wrote my essay on religion, but this time my 45 minute timer went off. It threw me off my groove and my final sentences turned out pretty bad. After the essay my hand was sad. I got back in bed and watched some Judge Judy. It was past two by then, and I was one 45 minute essay away from finishing and going on an adventure. I convinced myself to get up and write my essay. With 22 minutes left to go, I heard more stomping upstairs. The person who lives upstairs is constantly walking around like the army and slams things constantly. I had had enough.

I went upstairs to find out what was going on. I went to the last room that I thought was over mine and rang the bell. There was no answer so I rang again. Still nothing. I was confused and desperate so I rang their nextdoor neighbor. Who would answer the door but crazy Kelly. I had messaged her the other night asking what was going on upstairs because it was really loud. She said that she was in slippers and that it must not be her. IT'S TOTALLY HER!!!! I know she won't change because she's convinced it's not her. Oh dear.

I went back downstairs and continued my essay. Everything went fine…then I looked at the time. Six minutes to spare!!! That is unacceptable. Maybe I'm just getting more efficient, and I know there's not that much material to make it any longer without making it repetitive. I guess it'll just have to do. I got back in bed for one episode of the all holy Judge Judy and then planned my outting. I've been wanting to go to the sculpture en plein air for awhile but I just haven't made it yet. The directions were even easier than yesterday. The same thing except a right turn. Now that I've starting going to the 5th I realize that we took the long way on Nuit Blanche. Can I retroactively shame myself?

With slight hestitaion, I got myself up and dressed. The sun was starting to go down even though it was only four. The sky was perfectly blue and the day was covered in the perfect sunset haze. As I got to the quai a man said something to me that included "mademoiselle". Good thing mademoiselle doesn't speak French, but she's very offended. Mademoiselle is for five year olds. I'm a grownup even without makeup on! I kept walking and turned right onto the quai.

The garden is a series of grassy patches and flowers with sculptures hidden in them and others along the quai as well as several niches to sit along the Seine. It must have been the magical afternoon because I found everything extra charming. The Seine splashed along the banks perfectly, the grass was extra green, the flowers daintly adorable, and the sculptures intriguing. The artists were born in every country imaginable from Chili to Germany, but I think they all worked/died in Paris. One sculpture in particular had its own miniature garden around it with two fountains. I loved the garden. It was oddly peaceful even with people roaming around everywhere. I always say that I'll revisit a spot again, but I know that I'm always looking for new things.

A sculpture

A flower in the garden with the Seine and a sculpture in the background

One of the sculptures

A flower from the garden

The sculpture with its own garden

Across the Seine from the garden

One of the sculptures on the quai

I kept walking along the Seine to the end of the sculpture garden. It was such a nice afternoon that I kept walking. I walked far enough to be near the bridge that's behind Notre Dame. The cathedral was bathed in perfect sunlight and was almost as beautiful as it is at night. I stopped to look at the houses across the Seine that were glowing in orange light in front of the blue sky. It was the first time that I gasped and thought how beautiful Paris is. I was a little sad in those moments because I wont' be here forever to see the beautiful view. I guess it wouldn't be beautiful if it happened all the time.

Across the Seine from the garden

Notre Dame

I walked home a little sad. On my way into the building Francisco from my pop class was also approaching the door. The other night he and some friends were making some noise, and I went over to tell him to close the door. Today he apologized profusely and asked how long he had been bothering me. I told him that it was no big deal and that he shouldn't worry about it. He told me that sometimes the door comes open even after they've closed it, and since their room doesn't face the doorway, he has no idea. I made a comment that it was fine because it wasn't the middle of the night. He said yeah, not like those girls who scream at two and three o'clock in the morning. He said that the last time really bothered him, and that he hoped that there was a man with him so that he could say something. I told him that he could yell at girls, and he told me no he couldn't. He said that he was so mad that he was going to hit someone. Woah. That's mad.

After my little elevator chat with Francisco, I put on some Judge Judy and made myself some ramen. When I got home I had emailed mom about my conversation with Francisco to prove that I'm not insane. She started emailing me back while I was eating my ramen. I messaged her and said that I was free to skype. We spent the next hour talking and laughing.

After skyping I got up to take my shower. I got out, wrote my diary entry for the sculpture garden, and then got up to get my book. I then got an email from EAP. I was thinking that it was some recruitement email until I read it. My pass time is today! I scrambled to find out what time my pass time was, and immediately emailed mom saying that it was an emergency. I then looked over the classes I wanted again, and found out that one of them was a mistaken and isn't offered this quarter. I then had to scramble to find another class to fill the spot. Mom finally emailed me back and demanded that I get on Skype. I explaied the situation to her, and the went on my merry way.

I read a chapter of The Phantom Tollbooth about the Land of Ignorance, and now I'm waiting for my pass time. Good thing it's 15 minutes before bedtime….It's going to be a long day tomorrow so I need to sleep tight tonight.

89 daumesnil

Today was a rough one.

I woke up to my alarm this morning and couldn't bear to get out of bed. I rolled over, grabbed my laptop from the table, and turned it on. I was blinded by the light; literally I put my hand up in front of the screen like it would help. I looked over at the clock in the corner of my laptop and realized that it said 7am. What?! I totally forgot that it was daylight savings time yesterday. I turned off my computer, reset my alarm, and rolled over. After I few minutes I knew that I wasn't going to fall asleep. I got up to get my laptop and stayed in bed until 8. I made myself my half a peanut butter and honey sandwich and got to studying.

For some reason I just couldn't focus. My head hurt and I was twitching all over the place. My mind wandered just enough for me to realize that I hadn't been studying some of the material for French. I had totally forgotten to review the vocab for house objects and the verbs for environmental conservation. I frantically searched through my door for them until I finally found them. By this time my whole routine was upset. I throbbing and cloudy head really didn't help me review the material.

I struggled through French, put an item on my to-do list that stated that I should review the vocab again later, and then gathered my laundry. As you've probably figured out, I haven't done laundry since I've been here. If something is dirty I just handwash it. Well my lack of underwear finally got to me, and with holiday right around the corner, I figured I should get it done. I got all of my clothes together praying that it would all fit in the washing machine and turned my attention to finding some euros. I didn't realize that I had given most of my coins to Leila yesterday, and today all I had left was two one euro pieces and two two euro pieces. It's 3 euros to wash, and one to dry. I was sunk.

I took my clothes downstairs, somehow read the signs well enough to get my clothes washing, and went upstairs. I set my timer for 38 minutes and started to study for pop. Today I had decided to look up all of the genres on wikipedia so I could get a clearer picture of their historical background and instrumentation. I also looked up all of the songs online to see if they had a wikipedia page. Some of them didn't so I just looked up their lyrics. My head was hurting pretty badly by then so I made myself another half of a peanut butter and honey. My headache instantly went away.

38 minutes came and went and I went downstairs to put my clothes in the dryer. I set the dryer to its delicate cycle so my cute lace undies wouldn't die in the cycle, and came back upstairs. This time I set my timer for 50 minutes and got back to studying. I heard my alarm go off and went downstairs armed with my clothes basket. I started to pull my clothes out of the dryer when I realized that they were all wet. I was going to just run upstairs and get another euro when I realized that all I had was a two euro piece, and it is only one euro to dry. I was forced to take my wet clothes upstairs. I didn't know what else to do so I went about hanging up all of my clothing around the apartment. There's a rule in the building that says that we can't hung our clothes out the window. I though that was strange, but now that I realize delicate cycle means "doesn't dry your clothes" in French I'm rethinking my previous assumption.

I finished studying for pop and then wrote one of my histories essays. I finished with 51 seconds (really 40 seconds because I give myself an extra 10 seconds headstart) to spare, and then took my lunch break. I heated up one of my meals from Monoprix. It was a salmon and spinach lasagna. Sounds weird, but was actually really delicious. What is with France and its love affair with spinach and salmon (which I keep wanting to write "saumon")?? I watched an episode of Judge Judy even after I had finished eating. I just couldn't care today.

It was already past 2:15. My next goal was to write short summaries of the three articles that the pop essay will potentially be based on. I wrote the summaries and then analyzed my notes on the readings. I'm freaked out that I'm still getting new information out of them. By now I should have sucked them dry.

That took way longer than I thought, and it was almost four by the time I finished. I still had an essay for histories to write, but I needed my daily break. I was going to just stay home, but I figured that I needed to get out and have a more positive activity for today. I choice to finally go to Jardin des Plantes. I thought that I had been to it before, but I figured out when we walked passed it on Nuit Blanche that I hadn't (fyi nuit blanche is loosely translated to "sleepless night"….of the sexy variety….what is with the French and sex?!). I wrote down the instructions then figured out that I had written down the driving instructions. I wrote them down again, and set on my way. I thought the instructions were weird because they told me to head towards Boulevard Diderot. I know that I take exit Diderot when I get off the one, but I have never seen the street sign.

I was only wearing a long sleeved shirt after my adventures of being too hot in a coat recently. The second I got outside I figured out tha it was colder than the 64 degrees the internet told me it was. I walked to where I thought Diderot was, and it wasn't there. I went in the other direction, and it wasn't there either. I was still near home so I went back. I realized as I was entering the building that I had put "89 Daumesnil" into google instead of 39. I rewrote the instructions and left again. Life has been so rough today. I turned left on Ledru-Rollin like I was supposed to, and started walking towards the Seine. On my way I passed a Halloween shop! They don't celebrate Halloween in France so I was really surprised to see it.

I got to Pont d'Austerlitz and saw a metal bridge over the Seine, and then I saw a metro go across it. A metro goes above ground and over the Seine! I have to find this metro! I kept walking to a roundabout. My directions said take the first exit, so I turned left. I found myself walking along the quai in front of Gare d'Austerlitz in a direction that I knew was definitely not towards the jardin. When I had turned left I saw a garden in front of me that I could have sworn said Italie. I walked back to the garden, and figured out that it was the Natural History Museum. I didn't want that, so I kept walking. I got to the corner and saw a sign for a street that I didn't want to be on. I went back, and saw a food court inside of the garden that said "jardin des plantes" on the side. Bingo.

There were tons of people streaming in and out of the garden. I hooked a right to avoid the crowd. The setup of the garden was really weird. There were areas of trees and bushes that were gated and locked. Then there was a big pathway lined with trees. I walked on the side near one of the locked gardens to avoid the crowd. I passed the zoo inside of the garden and kept walking. I saw a small area with patches of cultivated flowers. I walked around taking pictures until I saw a huge greenhouse in the back. It was some kind of exhibition about hybrids, but I didn't go in. I then went right and some a beautiful patch of flowers, an old house in which an exhibition was being held, and some giant sculptures. To the left were several paths that went straight up into a wooded area. I went up the path and found out what was at the top. The top was covered in concentric circles of trimmed bushes with a look out at the top. I didn't climb to the top.

A bear attacking a human being

The cultivated garden

Stone sculptures

A wooden teepee in a field of flowers

The very top of the hill darkened by the setting sun

I passed another history museum, and then turned to leave. The main pathway was on my left, and I knew that it was the way out. I should have started there in the first place. There was a thick strip of grass and flowers with sculptures running down the center, and there were two smaller lines of grass and flowers on either side. I stopped to take five million pictures of flowers and the sculptures before heading home. The sun was setting and I still had an essay to write.

A sculpture at the entrance to the garden. It's made of crates

A series of four sculptures in the center of the garden. A unicorn, a walfrus, a deer, and a bear. 

Flowers

A sculpture in the center of the garden. It looks like a hose

Quai d'Austerlitz

I came home to find out that it was only a few minutes after six. I must have only been at the garden for 40 minutes or so. I ate some cheetos and nutella before writing my final essay. Once again I had 2 minutes and 51 seconds to spare, and I had written more than I did yesterday. I like that essay the best, but it seems to be trouble. Next up was reading a chapter of The Phantom Tollbooth and a shower. My stomach was growling for some reason, so I heated up another of my Monoprix meals. This one was fish in a creamy sauce with basmati rice and vegetable pieces. Okay, but not fantastic.

I'm so exhausted. Can it be holiday already?

the audio of a porno

So….studying.

I woke up at 8 this morning to the sound of my alarm. I barely groaned when I had to get up in the darkness to turn on the light. First thing this morning I found out that I had to upload the new version of flash. I was having problems completing the application because it said Safari was still running. I quit Safari and downloaded the application. I can't live without my sweet youtube! This put me way behind my morning routine so I rushed to make my peanut butter and honey sandwich and coffee before starting to study.

The same routine. Study for French then start on pop. You remember the freakout session from yesterday's post right? I've figured out the only way to semi-silence my test anxiety is to do practice quizzes. I decided to put links to all of the pop videos into a document in a random order. I copied and pasted the link onto a tab and turned the screen away so I wouldn't see what was loading. When the video started to play I did exactly what I'll have to do on the midterm: genre, decade, and explaination of why this song falls into that genre (plus some extra craziness for my own needs such as naming the artist, song title, and exact date of publication). I actually kinda enjoyed doing it. Each song was a surprise, and I'd try to guess which song would come up next.

I still forgot to write that Chopin's étude for piano was played as the tune for lemon incest, but overall I did fine. I was able to write a paragraph for each song and only slighly struggled occassionally while justifying my choice of genre. Today's favorite songs included: Indochine's l'aventurier, Brel's ne me quitte pas, Brassens' chanson for l'avergnat, and Edith Piaf's non, je ne regrette rien.

I wrote my first histories essay as a break from studying for music. I was like two minutes off of 45 minutes. Not too shabby. I then did some more pop songs, and had my lunch break. I choice a Picard meal that consisted of a very thin piece of salmon in a creamy citrus sauce with what I think was basil and spinach mashed potatoes. It kinda looked like baby food, and was kinda runny when the cream sauce got into it, but was actually pretty good. The potatoes were kinda sweet, but overall this was the best Picard meal out of the bunch. It was only a little after one so I took the leisure time to watch an extra episode of Judge Judy.

I finished studying for pop at about 2, and it was time to go to Carnavalet. I have to write a paper for my histories class over holiday about an object from Carnavalet. I got myself dressed, grabbed my shopping bag so I could pick up more meals, and went out the door. As I was walking I kept seeing new shops that I've never seen before because they're never open when I'm in town. Oh Saturdays, you're a bastion of open shops and way too many pedestrians. I got to the museum and pushed my way past the garden, which looked beautiful next to the gray sky, and went straight into the museum. I was a woman on a mission. I should have stopped to smell the roses.

I knew that I wanted to write my paper about the finger from the Vendome statue that was destroyed during the Revolution. Writing about the Revolution would give me tons of material to work with, and writing a 4-6 page paper would be a breeze. I rushed straight to the Revolutionary section without batting an eye…to find out that it was closed. What was I supposed to do?! I started frantically looking around the museum for something to write about. I went to the room that concerned Napoleon to look for inspiration. I saw the crib for Napoleon's child. Ehhh interesting but not fantastic. There was a picture of Haussmann. I thought that would do, but something in me said to keep looking. Some kind of sword like object from Garnier the builder of the Opera. Nah. I kept walking until I found more revolutionary items.

I saw some more things that could be it, but nothing really struck me. I figured that I'd just write about Haussmann, and went to find the sortie. I got lost in the museum, it really is a conplicated place and none of the signs make sense (how can it be the sens de viste and the sortie?!), and then I saw it. There, wedged into a corner near a doorway, was a picture of a woman with a red floppy hat. It was the image of the Republique! She even had a rooster on her arm, and was leaning on a fasces. How could it be any more perfect! Scooooore. I finally found my way to the sortie when I stopped because I saw something on the way that I had never seen before. There was an exhibition of beautiful black and white photographs of Paris. They were so beautiful. It was so weird to see such beautiful pictures of places that I've been a million times. It was like dreaming of Paris from the US all over again…expect I was dreaming of Paris in Paris.

La Republique

I left the museum and headed to Monoprix. On my way there I stopped to take a photograph of a three piece string group playing under an arch. I really liked walking on this new side of the street across from Place des Vosges. The area is covered in art galleries with really cool modern art. I could never go in them, but it was nice to look. I also stopped to take a picture of some art in the window of an art gallery. One piece was entitled "Russian Love".

The street musicians

Russian Love

Smirnoff bottles turned into art

I walked through the Bastille looking at new shops that never seem to be open when I walk past. I finally fought my way through the crowd to Monoprix. I saw a clothing display in the window that advertised their new clothing collection. One mannequin was wearing a sweater that said "Chic" in white block letters on a black sweater. I had to have it. It was perfect.

I hate going out on Saturdays. Monoprix was insane. I got four frozen meals (moussaka, a spinach and salmon lassgna, the same lassgna from last week, and one that's fish with basmati rice) and went to stand in line. I was in the line that priviledged pregnant women and people in wheelchairs. I saw a line that I had never seen open before. It had a sign on it that said something about caisse livrason so I knew I shouldn't stand in it. I waited for forever while the annoying girls behind me went to get a bottle of water off the shelf to start drinking it, chewed gum in my ears, and were generally annoying. Before I could pay my 7,94 I looked over at the line that I didn't get in. There were two men bagging the groceries of a woman. This is Europe. There's no such thing as bag boys! They were picking up crates from the stack that are always in the corner of the store and putting her groceries in them. I've never seen that before! You can get your groceries delivered!

I paid for my groceries and decided to go upstairs to look for the sweater. I saw it hanging there and started to think about how many weeks I'd have to save up to get it for myself. I thought it would be 40 bucks max. 119,99 euros. Yep. For a sweater from a grocery store. Au revoir, mon amour. Tu es très belle, mais trop chèr.

I went home. I walked through the courtyard and to the ATM. I got 250 euros out for my trip and came home. I check my online account to see how much money I have left in my savings. I'm down to my last $500. Yikes. I also took the time to write out the directions to my hotel in Rome; I had only written down the directions for the last hotel that got cancelled. I also found out that my hotel in Venice is 193 euros for my three nights! That is wayyyyy over budget!! I can't cancel it. Lame.

While I was thinking about it, I put my credit cards, cash, train tickets, and reservations in my bag to prepare for my trip. I also messaged Leila if she still wanted my Swiss francs. She's going to Geneva, and I told her that I'd trade her my francs for euros. She said that she wanted them and invited me to come over. She asked me if I had been okay this past week because I seemed mad about something. Have I been mad? I know that I think Leila is less cool after last week's episode (ohmygoodness that seems like it happened five weeks ago), but I don't remember being mad. Ugh whatever. We chatted for a bit, and she tried to guilt trip me into seeing Gone Girl with her. I was almost down to go, but I'm basically out of money this week and I have to pay for laundry tomorrow. I was totally almost convinced until she told me that the movie shows Ben Affleck's penis and is about something scary. Not. Happening.

I came back upstairs and finished my last essay for histories. I wrote it in 37 minutes. Is it weird that I'm kinda worried that I wrote it so quickly? I should review the information again. Maybe I'm just becoming more practiced at writing my essay.

By this time it was 7, and I was skyping mom at 8. I wasn't hungry, but I ate some soft center caramels anyway. Then I finished off the potato chips that Lauren sent me. I was a little sad to see them go. I was still hungry so I heated up my moussaka. I was surprised that it didn't have mashed potatos on it like it's supposed to, all it had was melted cheese on top. All it had was melted cheese. I'm insane. It did have big pieces of eggplant and a hint of meat. Not fantastic, but I ate it anyway.

I watched some Judge Judy while I waited for 8 to roll around. I then chatted with mom for 1 hour and 14 minutes. We had a lot to talk about. When I answered her call we both laughed because we were both snuggled up in bed while we talked to each other. It's like I'm there with her.

Uggh. It's time for bed already. Goodnight.

chopin étude for the piano

Today was a study day, but I did manage to put the crazies aside for a small outing.

I woke up before my alarm today. I thought it was the middle of the night because it was pitch black outside. I thought it was weird that I'd be so wide awake in the middle of the night, so I looked at my phone. It was 7:45. I rolled over, and managed to look at my phone at exactly 8am. I managed to get up to get my laptop. It was going to be an even longer day of studying if I didn't get myself moving. I checked facebook, as I do every morning, to seven messages and several notices. By the time I responded to all of my messages it was 8:19. I got up, made my coffee, made half a peanut butter and honey sandwich (which had so much honey that I thought pooh bear would think it was a little excessive), and got to work.

First order of the day was to study for French. I can't believe that my French class has gone from a source of extreme concern and worry to being fairly unconcerning (it would be a stretch to say worry free, but it hasn't made my cry in awhile). I studied for French for an hour, and then turned my attention to studying for pop. My pop class is really concerning me. There's so much uncertainty about what's going to happen that it's freaking me out. How can I be sure that a song is rock versus pop, and what decade it's from, if I've never heard it before! How can I tell if something is protest music if I can't understand the lyrics?! Can you feel the anxiety? I can.

Mindy suggested that we make lists of the characteristics of each genre. I went through and divded the songs by genre, figured out the name/artist/date for all of the songs, wrote down the major qualities of each genre, and wrote out all of my notes for each song. A rough estimate puts this activity at about four hours, but it could be more. I started to get worried that I'd forget a song's information (even though I don't have to know the name, artist, or specific date for each song), so I wrote out all of them twice. Somehow after all of this studying I was even more freaked out than when I began. There's so much to know, and so many small details. Can I hear if that's a guitar?!

As a break from studying for pop, I choice to do a test run of question two for my histories midterm. I set my timer for 45 minutes (the allotted time for each essay), and started to write. My ideas were flowing out perfectly well. I knew all of the information, but didn't use small bits of it because I knew that I'd be pushing the time limits. After writing out my second section, I looked at the clock. I only had 14 minutes left and I still had to write my third section and a conclusion paragraph! I changed the clock from a timer to a stopwatch and started to write again. I felt rushed so I left out most of my third section (all of the good details that turn my essay from "okay she was paying attention" to "holy cow") and rushed a final paragraph. I looked at the clock and it said 13 minutes and a few seconds. Phew. Now I know that have to write like the wind on the midterm.

After I studied for pop some more, I took a break for lunch. I was feeling kinda hungry so I heated up one of my Picard meals. The picture on the package looked like some type of crusted fish (I think it said halibut) with a side of rice with mixed vegetables. That was not it at all. The fish was sitting under a thick layer of redish sauce that tasted like a mouth full of lemons and something else that I can't explain, but wasn't very pleasant. I stuffed it down and watched my Judge Judy. I've heard that some of you are sick of me writing about my new love affair with Judge Judy. You will never understand.

I went back to work and struggled to finish my last bit of studying for pop. My head suddenly hurt and I was too stuffed. I kept fidgeting every other second. I finally figured out that "Je t'aime, moi non plus" is considered solidly pop (and has electronic sounds and a keyboard along with a guitar and strings) and was written in 1969. You're welcome. After the last bit of studying I collapsed in bed. It was already past three and I had done nothing memorable with my day. I knew that I needed to get a move on.

I had added Sainte-Chapelle to my list of things to do after I heard about it in my histories class. I googled it and found out that it was near Notre Dame. I checked the weather, made sure that it wouldn't rain while I was out, and dragged myself out of the house. I was delighted to find out that the route would take me right along where I was to get to Shakespeare and Company last weekend. I could finally take the pictures that I had promised you.

The sky looked gray, but I was bundled up. The directions said that a normal person walking at normal speed would only take 33 minutes to get to Sainte-Chapelle. I'm not a normal person who walks at a normal speed, and I kept stopping to take pictures. At one point a man peered ove the top of a door right at me and I thought that he would come outside. I'm not sure if he was looking at me, but he creeped me out enough that I quickened my pace and kept looking behind me. I took pictures of La Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, and the cool statue in front of it. The next part of the route took me along the Seine. It was so beautiful with the orange tree leaves against the brown buildings and the gray sky. The Seine itself, of course, looked like dirty dish water and death.

l'arsenal

near the front door of l'arsenal

The statue in front of l'arsenal

Paris

I kept walking and walking and couldn't seem to reach the quai that I was looking for. The problem with the old part of town is that half of the areas don't have street signs. I finally figured that I'd turn down a quai and then find my way from there. It just so happens that I turned down the right quai and saw a sign pointing to Sainte-Chapelle. On my way I passed an adorable community of flower markets. You know I would live and die for flowers, and it took everything I had not to stop and gaze at all of the pretty colors.

The flower market

I got to the buiding that had a sign saying "Sainte-Chapelle" pointing right towards it. There was a small entrance with a sign that said something about a Saint Louis exhibition. I walked down the street a bit, and the next building said something about palais or justice or something that did not say chapelle. I figured that the small door was the right one. I looked in my purse to see that, en fait, I had my student card. Thank Dieu! I went inside and got my free ticket. The exhibition was dedicated to all things religious monarchy and was set in what looked like an emptied out church. There were beautiful seaside paintings of places I'm assuming that Louis went. There were statues from churches, stained glass, illuminated manuscripts, paintings, even a shirt that Louis had worn. I loved seeing the decree for Quinze Vingts the best because I live near the hospital. It was great seeing so much amazing religious art in the space of a gothic cathedral.

A golden church in the exhibition

The only problem was that this was not the Sainte-Chapell that I saw on the wikipedia page. Where was all of the blue and gold?! I went outside and walked around the building in an attempt to find the real entrance to the church. I couldn't find it so I gave up and started back home. On my way I passed a news team doing a story in front of the bridge near Sainte-Chapelle (or wherever I was). Possibly, somewhere, I'm on French tv. The second I got to the other side of the street, I started to feel drops. Oh no. This was happening. I was far from home and it was about to pour on me. The worst part was that it was pretty hot, and slightly uncomfortable to be wearing a wool coat. I put up on hood anyway and scurried home. It didn't pour, but it was enough to leave my jacket speckled.

I came home and got distracted on facebook and eating nutella instead of writing my second histories essay. It was already six o'clock, and I had to get started before the nighttime sleepies set in. I logged off, but not before getting a depressing message from Quentin. He's broke so he can't eat at school for two weeks, his girlfriend is going to break up with him, he's going to have to leave school if he doesn't find a job, he hasn't seen his sister in four months because his dad is mad at him. Holy cow. Then he told me that the friends he was supposed to see tonight cancelled on him. Mon pauvre.

I left facebook and started to write my second essay for histories. I was writing along fine, but the time was always in the back of my mind. I finished up my last thoughts, without leaving out the part about Henri IV's hospitals, and looked at the clock. Three minutes to spare. That's practically a lifetime! By this time it was after seven. I felt somehow guilty for finishing my work so early AND having also gone out for two hours. Does anyone else think that's nuts? Someone tell me to chill out and then quiz me on the elements of new wave (synthesizers, drum machines, keyboards, digital sampling, 1980s, punk and pop influence).

I got in bed for some more of you know who before taking my shower. I think I'm going to read my book for a bit before going to bed.